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inthenightmods) wrote in
logsinthenight2019-09-01 05:18 pm
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Entry tags:
- !intro log,
- allie pressman (brooke),
- aziraphale (xy),
- bruce wayne (marzi),
- crowley (mj),
- davina claire (trix),
- daylight vis lornlit (melly),
- elena gilbert (amy),
- eliot waugh (pytho),
- gareth visser (tona),
- jason grace (erica),
- jim hopper (priestly),
- jo harvelle (dee),
- jon snow (rachel),
- kol mikaelson (jade),
- m.k. (shira),
- mary (danielle),
- matt murdock (kitty),
- misty day (raven),
- nancy wheeler (chrissy),
- noriaki kakyoin (laura),
- quentin coldwater (ireth),
- remington swann (danielle),
- riku (dubsey),
- scarlett harker (brooke),
- steve harrington (zelly)
INTRO LOG: SEPTEMBER

INTRO LOG: SEPTEMBER
COME INTO MY HEAD
characters: everyone.
location: the harbor, as well as the rest of town.
date/time: september 1-3.
content: beacon's newest batch of residents arrives on the ferry. everyone gets a special gift, courtesy of the lighthouse keeper.
warnings: n/a.
welcome to beacon.
It's dim, and the room won't stop swaying, gently rocking you back and forth. A loud sound startles you fully awake, a deep, moaning call: a foghorn. As your eyes adjust, you note faint red light streaking through the room from a tiny, round window.
You've found yourself in a private room, lying on a bed. The last things you remember are the events that led up to your death. Beside you is a folded tablet and a lantern that glows steadily with a healthy flame.
You're on a ship. And that ship is docking.
Making your way to the deck, and eventually the pier, you find only moonlight to greet you, and a dark forest beyond. There are other people here, each with their own unique lantern, and many of them look just as lost as you are. On the ferry you've just disembarked from, the speaker system begins to play a song.
In the distance, across the waters of the lake, you can see the tall silhouette of a lighthouse, its red light slowly turning.•••
Unlike the past two months, there's not a whole lot happening down at the dock today. It's quiet, disconcertingly so, after the foghorn blows once and then twice to signal the ferry's arrival. Winters is dead, and as such there's no one around to dole out the "need to know" info for the new arrivals.
Luckily, the tablet and the town do have some resources available for playing catch up! The Keeper's recent network post is available for everyone to read, and newcomers can always check out the weekly bulletins and the records in town hall. Everyone's also welcome to get in touch with the NPCs through their inboxes, too.
But, oh! In the ferry's cargo hold is a rather large crate addressed to the Postmaster General, and inside? A bunch of ocarinas! The Postmaster General, set up at their little stall, will be passing out ocarinas (free of charge!) to everyone that happens by. Anyone who doesn't come by the stall will receive one in their mailbox.
Shortly after the ferry arrives, a new message from the Lighthouse Keeper appears on the network:
Did everyone get their ocarinas? If you didn't, check your mailbox at the post office. There's plenty to go around. The extras will be in the general store.
You can use these to communicate with the forest spirits. Their language is based on musical notes, so you have to play little songs for them. Here's a couple of basic translations that should help you guys out:
The rest of the message contains playing instructions and example audio files for the following messages:
- A friendly greeting!
- An assurance that equates to "I come in peace".
- A short melody that translates roughly to polite terms like please, thank you, and you're welcome.
- A shrill note that asks for help.
Characters can use the ocarinas to communicate these phrases to the forest spirits (and are welcome to try learning or communicating other phrases), but keep in mind that there's not much plot info to be learned from the forest spirits, at least not for right now. These ocarinas won't exactly help you translate anything the forest spirits might say back, after all.
The Lighthouse Keeper won't be responding to that network post, but she can be contacted through her inbox!
ooc.
Hey there, wonderful players, and welcome to In the Night! For this intro log, you are officially without a chaperone. Rastus is back at the bonfire, Will is characteristically elusive, and Robin is, well, you know where she's at. It's up to the veteran residents to fill in the new folks.
We're also happy to introduce the YARD SARD... The Postmaster General will be appearing in any intro logs where a player formerly in the game has ordered something through Rastus but is no longer around to claim it! These items will still come in, but since they have no owner, they'll be available for other characters to claim. It's usually a first come, first serve situation, though the Postmaster General may turn folks away for any number of weird reasons. (OOCly, it's us attempting to spread the wealth among the playerbase.)

DELIVERIES
The following packages can be found in the cargo hold:
- The monthly store restock
- Two silver prosthetic pieces (they aren't a perfect fit, but they work well enough) for Polnareff
- A few bottles of holy water, a pouch of powdered silver, and a magic wand (the wand doesn't have the permanence spell Elden was looking for, unfortunately; instead, it will temporarily change the color of its target to either pink or blue!) for Elden
- Webfluid components (about a three month's supply) for Peter
- A spice rack for Davina, and one for Ignis as well, plus a little geology kit with both of their names scribbled on the package and crossed out various times. Looks like these orders got a little mixed up! Everything each of them requested (plus a little extra) can be found among these packages, but they'll have to sort out what goes where
- 2 cartons of cigarettes, a flintlock pistol, and 100 rounds of ammo for it (though none for the shotgun, hm!) for Rosinante
- A small assortment of dreamcatchers, all with a lot of feathers for Xayah
- A flash drive (on which is a very simple app for Morse code translation! this can be passed around or uploaded to the network for many users to download) for Matt
- A bounce house (small and with quite a few holes that need patching, but it'll get the job done; it's deflated, but it does have a built-in fan!) for Lunafreya
If you submitted an item request last month and we've missed it here, let us know!

YARD SARD
The Postmaster General is here! They've set up a little stall on the dock, and have a couple of items for... sard?
A carton of cigarettes42 boxes of .45 bulletsA sewing kit
If you would like to purchase an item from the Postmaster General, you can haggle with them below!
QUICKNAV | |||
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steve harrington | stranger things | absolutely ota
[ Steve Harrington feels like he'd been mowed over by a couple of linebackers coming straight for him without a second's thought to prepare. That's the very first conscious thought that floats about somewhere in his brain. His everything aches, and when he shifts in his position, still half-asleep, he can hear an unfamiliar sound ... like a ... like a, what? A foghorn?
Is that seriously a -
Mm. Yeah, no.
He practically jolts himself awake, sitting up so suddenly that he's immediately hit with a wave of good ol' fashioned spinning, stomach-churning, muscle-aching, cold-sweating nausea. One of his eyes still feels puffy and sore when he attempts to clutch at his temple and pretty much misses, and the other one ... well, its fine, sure, but the state of his face is kind of the last thing on his mind. If he doesn't get some fresh air, and stat, he just might throw up.
Steve scrambles to get out of bed, arms flailing to find a handle, a pole, something for him to hold onto while he pushes himself out the door and out of the claustrophobic space. Flashes of himself behind the wheel, cars screaming in protest as he drives the Todfather straight for Billy ... from his peripheral vision, he can see Robin in the passenger seat ... Nancy's up ahead ... oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit.
He really is gonna throw up. ]
Out of the way, out of the way!
[ He doesn't really care who he's yelling to, only that he's yelling and it feels like the only thing he's got control of because his insides sure aren't listening. And when he blunders up the steps to get to the top, the cool air around him feels like a balm and it's the perfect culmination required for a young man to purge himself of - well, everything else he hadn't already thrown up in the bathroom stall of a theatre some hours ago.
Whatever, right? What dignity does he have left anyway when he's leaning over the side of the ship, blood still on the collar of his Scoops Ahoy uniform, looking horrible and feeling ten times that?
He groans. ]
Ugh. Does anyone have a ... Kleenex or something?
❚❚❚❚❚ LAND, HO! ... ( pre-any TDM threads that might become game-canon )
[ Later, Steve will get a chance to catch his breath and gain his bearings - as well as one can in his case, anyway.
So, basically, not at all.
The song that plays over the speakers sounds frenzied; it's not bad, but it's unfamiliar and not especially comforting, and it's definitely no Wham! or Queen. In one hand he's got his lantern, and in the other, a tablet. The latter he's got no real idea how to use or what to do with it, and the former ... well, kind of freaks him out a little. But, yeah, sure, he follows the rest of the ship's passengers onto land and tries not to associate this place too closely with what little he'd seen of the Upside Down.
Because, man. This place reminds him way too much of the Upside Down and that's really not a good thing.
Swallowing the increasing unease settling in his chest, he'll say to the nearest person (you): ]
Uh - hey. Got any idea where we are?
[ Once on land, Steve can be found lingering around by the edge of the water, watching the dim, red glow of the lighthouse as it casts its colour over the dark water and the silhouette of trees, or something, beyond. He inspects his lantern, a simple looking thing with a dark metal frame and a glowing light trapped within, and then he'll inspect the sorry state of his shoes, because there's definitely barf on them and his socks have kind of pooled pathetically around his ankles. He thinks about how much he wants a shower, or maybe five, and he tugs at the collar of his uniform, wishing he had some other clothes. Totally the perfect time to have a chat, right? Right.
Eventually, he can be found by the Postmaster General's stall, holding up a small blue and white object that definitely means nothing to him.
Flatly, he'll say: ] I don't know what this is. [ But that obviously doesn't matter to anyone, and whatever, Steve's already been collecting super weird artifacts all night, so why not just add this one to the pile? ]
❚❚❚❚❚ WILD-CARD
[ ooc: if neither of these prompts calls to you, no problem! feel free to leave your own starter, or hit me up over plurk (
Ahoy Beacon
Allie's lantern knocks against the edge of the deck as she stumbles out of the way. Her face twisting with disgust and sympathy, though that's probably more for her own rebelling stomach. At the sound of him retching beside her, she forces herself to look away. A shaky hand coming up to cover her own mouth as if it will keep the last meal she ate from coming back up.
It's only when the sound stops that she forces herself to look back. The grimace still etched across her features as she tries to make him out under the glow of the moonlight and the light cast from her lantern. The bubble of laughter that spills past her lips is jarring to her own ears. Something close to surprise wiping away her disgust before it shifts closer to chagrin. ]
I - Sorry. Sorry, it's just. [ Clearing her throat to suppress the laughter that still wants to rise up. ] You're a seasick sailor. That's not exactly something you see every day.
[ The light not quite enough for her to make out blood on his collar and mess that's been made of his face. ]
no subject
[ Augh, goddamnit.
His voice is groggy from hurling his guts out over the side of the ship like a goddamned champ. He clears his throat, wiping his mouth, and steps back from the edge to give his ruined uniform a once-over. ]
Oh. No, this is - never mind. [ Yeah, okay, he can see the irony in this situation, but he shakes his head - slowly, to keep the residual nausea at bay - and picks at his collar uselessly. ] Not a sailor. It's a uniform.
no subject
Shit... Sorry - [ For the laughter. ] Are you -
[ She can't finish that sentence, however. 'Are you okay' was a dumb thing to say under their current circumstances. ]
Should you maybe - sit - or, something? [ Her instincts wanting to step closer and offer assistance but in light of recent events? The comparatively small cut on her head, the bullet holes in her Winter coat? Trust wouldn't come so easily for a while. ]
im so sorry about the delay! i'm back now!!!
He barely noticed the fact that he'd been wearing this uniform for the last million years, after all.
He nods his head a little shakily, and then slides down to sit where he is, leaning back against the ship's railing, and of course, his chosen spot for throwing up. He tilts his head back and closes his eyes.
Conversationally: ]
Well, this sucks.
no worries! I hope Hamilton was awesome \o/
Given what she knows about being here? It's kind of hard not to wonder if that's what had actually happened. It's enough to see Allie lower her guard just a little, joining him a few feet away. Her back to the edge of the ferry, her knees tucked to her chest as she tries to ignore the faint, yet still present scent of vomit. ]
I'd say that's putting it mildly but - [ A quick glance in his direction. ] I think you're having a worse day than me.
[ And then he'd hear it; The laughter. The near-hysterical bubble of it that she tries to suppress because she knows, nothing about this is funny and yet she can't seem to keep it from spilling over. ]
Sorry - [ Her shoulders shaking. ] It's not funny. [ Another poorly contained trill of it. ] It's not.
[ But if she doesn't laugh she might cry and if she starts to cry? She's not sure she'll ever stop. ]
IT WAS!!! it was a dream come true! ty! cc:
All things considered, this is all pretty insane, and if he weren't nauseous and sore, he'd probably be laughing too.
No, wait.
The laughter - it reminds him a lot of Robin and the way she'd laughed too, the moment they both realized they really might die a hundred feet below a suburban mall, in a Russian underground base. Almost delirious, definitely scared.
He really thought that might be it. Guess the joke's on him now that he's here on a boat to who-knows-where.
He opens his eyes and shifts his gaze towards the other girl. His expression softens a little when he says: ]
Well, it's a little funny.
[ And then he gestures to his ridiculous uniform (vomit and blood and all), because you can't forget this ol' thing. ]
:D I saw it in Chicago and it was the b e s t! I would have killed to see it in NY!
It's not. [ Her denial only makes her laugh harder, Allie hunching over so that her long wavy hair creates a shield around her face. Like the fact that he can't see the tears of amusement in her eyes, will somehow make it better. ]
I'd say it could be worse... [ He could be stuck wearing those clothes for the rest of the afterlife? But as messed up as this whole situation is, she's still not convinced this is that. It's not that she imagined there'd be peace in death, a place where you could be united with loved ones. In truth she expected nothing and this is anything but that. ]
I'm sorry. [ Trying again as she straightens, wiping her fingers beneath her lashes to capture the salty tears that cling to them. ] I'm really not laughing at you, I swear I just -
[ Her laughter slowly fades away, her smile turning bittersweet and when she turns her head to look at him the strain in her features is hard to miss. ]
Have you ever just - feel like you've forgotten how to laugh? [ She knows it's a weird question but it doesn't stop her from pushing forward. ] You know like, ice-skating or... riding a bike? You don't do it for the longest time and you look at something and you're like... Can I?
the ny experience was the only way i wanted to do it hahaha but im so glad you saw it too!
He studies her then, because it's better than thinking about his nausea, eyes going towards her jacket and the perfectly torn holes that can't have been carved out by anything other than a gun. Okay, maybe after everything she'd gone through, too. ]
Hey, you do what you have to. [ His voice is softer when he shrugs a shoulder and makes an attempt to sit up, still feeling like his stomach might want a second go at trying to escape his body. Valiantly, he manages to keep it all in. ] Something tells me it's been a while since you've had a reason to laugh. This place kind of puts the icing on the cake, doesn't it?
Land, ho!
[Taking that blue-and-white object, she means. Rosalind glances over at him, her expression a little judgmental, but maybe it's always like that.]
Besides: what do you want it for if you don't know what it is?
[A beat, and she sniffs. That's definitely a judgmental look now, is that vomit on his shoes? Gross, dude.]
no subject
[ He also doesn't want this weird tablet thing, and really, he could do without carrying a lamp around with him too if they'd just give him a flashlight or ... you know, figure out how to turn the lights on in this place. ]
They kind of just passed one to me, said I could keep it.
[ Wow, okay, he can feel the way she's giving him a judgmental once-over, and he's not feeling it. Like, at all. He has to resist shuffling his feet, but instead he gives the handheld blue instrument another brief inspection.
If he'd paid a little more attention, he would have understood that it could play music or something like that, but. Steve's not exactly an Instructions kind of guy. ]
Do you know what it is?
no subject
[Obviously! Gosh.]
Blow in at the top. It's one of the most ancient musical instruments in existence, although, given it's a hollow lump of clay with some holes in it, is slightly less impressive.
Go on.
sORRY FOR THE DELAY i'm finally returned
Steve rolls the object over in his hand, like the musical instrument part is supposed to suddenly reveal itself to him.
He looks at her, accepts her explanation (despite the attitude, because wow lady, do you have an attitude!) and lifts it to his lips.
He blows into the hole at the top.
Lo and behold, like its some shock to the universe, it makes a sound. ]
IT'S ALL G
Now find the notes, A through G. Do you know anything about music?
no subject
[ Steve continues to stare at the ocarina, doubtful of its ability to recreate 'We Are the Champions' with quite the same power or flare.
There's a slight shrug. ]
Played around with the guitar a little a few summers ago — [ Which is obviously better than being in band, even if he's pretty sure knowing how to play the trumpet or whatever could help him in this situation. ] — but this isn't a guitar.
no subject
I died in 1910.
[So, she has no idea who those are. It's entirely possible they were popular in her day and she just doesn't know them, but given the way he's dressed, she'll hedge her bets. Anyway.]
If you know a guitar, you know how music works. Now: find the notes.
no subject
[ That would explain the costume-that-isn't-actually-a-costume, but other than that, it's a little difficult to wrap his head around the idea of time travel actually being real. You know, beyond Marty McFly using a Delorean to jump into the past. Or is it the future?
Anyway. ]
1910? That's crazy.
[ And way more important than finding dumb notes on a small piece of blue plastic. ]
no subject
[They might as well do this, although she won't forget to bully him into trying to play that instrument.]
Ahead of me, clearly. Judging by your clothes . . . hm. The latter half of the twentieth century?
land, ho; or, how hopper learned to love the sight of a hawkins jock
That's what Jim is, coming to with his eyes on the ceiling of a tiny boat cabin (it gives Jim chills, metallic sounds of the ship scratching at buried memories) - confused, lost, and no small amount of suspicious. It's too tactile to be a dream or a nightmare, and too strange to be reality. The cabin, the boat, the dock, that circling red light of the lighthouse, watching sentry like a demonic statue some distance away. All of it.
And this town? It's not from any sacred book Jim's ever heard of.
As he wanders the area around the dock, searching the faces of the other unlucky arrivals, Jim catches sight of a silhouette that seems more familiar than anything else he's seen tonight. His footsteps quicken as he approaches, hand on the shoulder of a sailor outfit-clad kid to forcefully turn him around.
Jim's brows furrow and he shakes his head, mouth twitching.
No. No, no. ]
Harrington.
[ A name Jim might know better from reading crime scene reports than formal introductions. He frowns, halfway shaking his head before he can stop himself, hand tightening on Harrington's shoulder in a way that betrays the ache in knowing that this kid is here because he's dead too.
His voice is soft when he continues: ] What're you doing here?
i'm finally back oh my god i'm so sorry for the delay
It's the Sheriff. (But Will's mom isn't here, so ...?) ]
Shit.
[ The word comes out of Steve's mouth on instinct, a heart-felt, uttered exhale. ]
Shit, shit, shit. [ He tries, then and there, not to have a complete meltdown at the idea that all of their friends have somehow wound up down here, lost and probably wandering around, waiting to bump into each other. He hates the idea of failing them.
He hates the idea that Dustin could be down here. ] Not you too. Wait, how did you get here? Did you guys not find your way back to the Russians?
[ Sorry, yeah, he's just going to counter Hop's question with his own. ]