(may intro) WELCOME TO WAYWARD PINES!

[officialnotice]

INTRODUCTION LOG

MAY 1ST - 3RD

AFTER THE ACCIDENT

There was an accident. The details are hazy and obscure, but it's still the first thing you remember. Maybe a car wreck — metal and broken glass everywhere, and the sirens and the screaming. Maybe your bike hit a rock and you careened uncontrollably off a mountain path. Maybe something less mundane, even impossible seems to have happened to you. You can't quite make out the details, not who was at fault or why. Try as you might, the chaos is all you can truly remember.

It's also the last thing you remember from before waking up.

When you open your eyes, the accident is gone, replaced with white sterility. Perhaps somewhat alarming at first, until you blink at your surroundings and realize that you're in a hospital bed. You try to move but are sluggish, covered in a scattering of minor injuries you only vaguely remember receiving, not to mention the possibility of the partially healed remnants of other, seemingly older wounds.

It's a shame you won't be able to tell the difference between the two. Your memories are an indiscernible fog where they're not absent altogether, only a few standing out in your mind with any kind of certainty.

If the room happens to be empty when you wake, it's not for long. Nurses bustle in, taking your vitals and asking your name and anything else you might remember. Don't worry, they tell you. You'll make a full recovery here. Much of what you say (especially anything unusual, anything about monsters or magic or outlandish technology) will earn placating speculation of head trauma from the accident. You'll be told to stay put, not to push yourself, and to wait for the doctor to clear you before you leave.

Then you'll be left alone. Or maybe you'll find yourself visited by loved ones: family, or friends. You've lived here much or all of your life, so of course you have those things. Of course they already remember you being here, and may remember visiting you in the hospital while you were still unconscious.

Either way, the hospital's population is quadruple the usual, and you get the impression the nurses are working themselves ragged just running damage control. You might hear talk around the hospital of other small population spikes over the past few days, though many patients appeared to be well enough to be released the same day, and the same might be said of you. Or at least the staff doesn't seem to be too concerned. You can even leave your room without much fuss, any doctor or nurse that might try to intercept you getting called away almost immediately to deal with something even more pressing.

Of course, it's not so unusual to settle in until you're discharged, either. You may choose to wait for loved ones to come pick you up, even speak to your fellow patients, whether roommates or others wandering the halls. The more enterprising and suspicious might even consider it an opportunity to poke around for a few basic answers.

MAY 1ST - 4TH

GETTING USED TO HOME AGAIN

However you get there, outside the birds sing a joyful song, and though the air is just a bit crisp, the sky's as sunny as you've ever seen it. It's bright enough to make you squint for a moment before you feast your eyes on the quaint little mountain town of Wayward Pines, though that might just be some sort of side effect from your accident. Trees line the street at regular intervals, carefully manicured and slightly waterlogged from the recent flood. Cars cruise by at a safe and respectable speed. Fellow pedestrians spare you glances, some wary, others concerned or just friendly. It probably depends on how clothed you were when you left the hospital.

This isn't even the picturesque city center, though a colorful nearby sign reads "Main Street" with an arrow pointing due south, followed in smaller font by a list of businesses you don't recognize (could be a good direction to head in, though — maybe it'll jog your memory), and one that you might: Wayward Pines Sheriff's Department. You've likely caught wind by now that any clothing or other items you had on you at the time of your accident are being held by the Sheriff until you're well enough to claim them. Not to mention the keys to your home, kept locked and safe at the station for you. That should probably be your next stop, though if anything's missing in what they hand over you'd be the last to know.

It's time to get home, to recover from your ordeal and try to sort through your memories. Do you remember this house, the pictures of family on the walls and how to navigate to the bathroom in the middle of the night? Maybe it's easier with loved ones living with you, helping you get settled, or maybe you're on your own. Either way, over the next few days it's a good idea to try to remember your routines, to get out and finally visit Main Street if you haven't already. Maybe you even remembered that you work in one of the more familiar sounding shops, or elsewhere in town. Makes sense they'd give you some time off to recover and get reacclimated to your life here, but eventually you should probably get back to work. You haven't seen your co-workers in a few days, and besides, you have to be able to put bread on the table.

Or at the very least some of the delicious treats at the school bake sale you're seeing flyers for all over town!

MAY 5TH

ANNUAL BAKE SALE, PRESENTED BY THE PTA!

It's that time of year again. The time when everyone digs into their wallet, ignores their diet, and spends a little time supporting the local school bake fair. You know, for the good of the children. Or, in this particular case, the hospital. There's no denying the hospital has had a hard time of it lately, between the steady influx of accident victims at the start of each month and the recent outbreak scare, and the Wayward Pines Academy PTA has come up with the perfect solution to show their support to the hard working hospital staff by vowing to donate half of the proceeds for the sale today. Maybe the hospital can see about finally getting the staff breakroom a decent coffee machine!

And it doesn't hurt that Linda's Blondie recipe is honestly to die for. The PTA has pulled out all the stops this year in the hopes of encouraging a good community turn out, posters advertising the sale plastering every street corner and flyers stuffed into every mailbox for a solid week leading up to the event, and today is finally the day.

There's at least two dozen different tables set up with all manner of delectable treats, even one or two offering vegan alternatives for those inclined. Not to mention a few others catering to some of the townspeople's more... unique palates.

Maybe you've got your own table set up with your wares, or were simply lured to the park today by the appetizing scents wafting through the air. Either way it seems like the whole town has come out to show their support today, and why wouldn't they? Children are our future, after all. Or maybe it's just Linda's Blondie recipe.

Yeah, that's probably it.

MOD NOTES

Welcome to our fourth mingle log for newbies and oldbies alike!

This log is meant to cover characters' first five days in Wayward Pines. Characters for this round will appear staggered in the hospital between the 1st and the 3rd, and a CR building event will occur on the 5th, after everyone has had a suitable amount of time to get settled in town. For the most part, only the five memories detailed in your character's application are remembered throughout the duration of this log, although their false Wayward Pines memories may also begin to surface (in those who've opted to utilize this mechanic) as the week wears on. These memories, as noted in the FAQ, feel very real and are accompanied by as much emotion or sentiment as a real memory would be.

PLEASE INCLUDE IN SUBJECT LINE: Character Name, date, location, and Open or Closed, to help keep things organized and make your character easy to find.

If you have any questions regarding this intro log, feel free to ask them on the FAQ or the relevant plurk.

Comments

Cassian Andor | all dates | Go Ask Alice, Crossbones Gym & PTA Bakesale | Open

[ouzel]

1. May 1st-4th

[ Go Ask Alice is situated on Main Street and is one of the few shops that doesn't have the town's ubiquitous sign in the window - though it appears, every Monday morning, and every Monday morning Cassian takes it down when he arrives to work.

He shows up horrifically early, but that is mostly habit relating to employees of the gym who want coffee at slightly less horrifically early hours (but only slightly). If he doesn't hang out there at Crossbones for a while, then it's back to Alice, where there's always fifty billion things to do before opening the shop.

So come in. Have tea, hipster soda, or hot chocolate (it'll be year round before the week is out if Cassian has to argue with Jefferson every afternoon and bribe half the school to come by and try it in that timeframe), or eat something!

Or do that and bother Cassian. Two great tastes that taste great together! Besides if you're newly released from the hospital, you can ask about the Fugue Special.

The night of the 4th finds the shop closed but the lights on in the back of house, Cassian baking in full swing preparation for the PTA Bake Sale. While the front door is well-locked, the back is open to let out some of the heat from running the ovens for hours upon hours. ]

May 5th

[ There's a table for the tea shop here, with tea (of course) and several varieties of cupcakes, but what's possibly more interesting is the fact that more than a couple of other tables that are also sporting baked goods that Cassian made. In said tea shop. Granted, he at least has access to enough recipes that there's a pretty decent variety between what everyone's offering - some folks got mostly cookies, another requested cake, and honestly? Linda's blondis might be TheBomb.com but Cassian sleeps like shit and takes a lot of pride in making food for other people.

Besides, he's a got a brother in the highschool and a roommate working the hospital. Everyone wins. Right? ]

closed to jyn

[ouzel]

[ continued from here ]

Still unsure of what to do with his arm, Cassian's hand ends up settling at the back of the chair Jyn is sitting in, fingers loosely curled around its topmost edge. She sits up straight and Cassian feels himself bracing, uncertain what she's going to say or do.

The question she asks has him blinking. "Twenty-one." He hasn't figured out how to reference the calendar, here, in terms of when her birthday would be.

[realists]

"Twenty one." She nods absently, sipping the rest of her tea. She'd been hoping knowing her age would help her feel settled and while it doesn't seem wrong, it doesn't... feel like anything. Which is all very frustrating. She huffs out an annoyed sigh, rubbing her forehead again and wincing again when she brushes across the abrasions at her hairline.

Instead of trying to verbalize her discomfort, she reaches to help herself to more tea because there is comfort in familiarity and tea is familiar. Milk is familiar. Should be blue, but still familiar.

"I can drink."

[ouzel]

Cassian frowns before giving into the impulse to take a better look at her wounds - the various cuts against her skin, closest to her hairline, and his fingers brush just ever so slightly as she leans back into her chair with the tea. How's her shoulder, he wonders, but there is no good way to ask without explaining.

Yes, there was an accident. Yes, I was there. No, we're not okay.

"You can." He sounds a bit amused. "I doubt your age would've stopped you."

[realists]

"Correct." Nor would the lack of funds stop her. The headaches are all that is stopping her right now, she has no desire to make them worse with a hangover. The first day she is headache free though... Jyn's getting drunk.

"Alright." She cracks her neck, winces, ignores it to sip her freshly made tea again. "Who am I supposed to know so I don't insult anyone for having forgotten them?"

May 5th

[postpartor]

[ Sharon has an undeniable sweet tooth. This, she has learned about herself in the past ten minutes, drawn by the temptation of advertising and the smell of delicious baked goods.

Her first pass through the park is to mark the lines of approach, the areas of highest human density, potential sniper positions, cover, best places to lose herself if needed.

She feels better having done it. Good enough to take her eyes off her surroundings and look at the table she's paused next to.

There are cupcakes. Cupcakes and coffee. This is officially her favorite spot. ]

Are those red velvet?

[ouzel]

[ Cassian is one of those highly paranoid people who noticed her making her way through the first time but there have been enough people to distract him from keeping track of every single new person in his periphery. Not that it would change the approachable smile on his face. ]

They are. [ He notices her gaze on the coffee as well. ] I'll take whatever change is in your pocket, or you can take the Fugue Special.

[ Go on, ask. ]

[postpartor]

[ some people don't complain about beet root in their sugar delivery systems

She looks from the coffee to him, preemptively smiling. ]

I'll bite. What's the Fugue Special.

[ouzel]

You take what you need and exchange it for a story. Doesn't have to be today. Just eventually.

[ Cassian smiles. There is nothing at all dangerous about this idea, right? Right. ]

may 4th

[corby]

[ He'll have company soon enough. Rhiannon's been flying around all night, but she'd left from the tea shop, so her clothes are still located in the back room. With the door open and the lights on, she doesn't have to go back to her place to change back, and she's curious to see who's hanging out after hours anyway. The raven struts into the back room, spots Cassian and flaps her wings in greeting as she walks past him towards the office area where she left her clothes. There's a few minutes of silence, and then the faint crunch of bones as Rhiannon shifts from raven to human, and she comes back out into the kitchen area, yanking her shirt down. ] What're you here so late for? Getting a head start on tomorrow?

[ouzel]

[ There's a distracted wave from Cassian when Rhi first arrives (he's mixing ingredients to change the color of his frosting and that takes a steady hand and a practiced eye), but he's more or less got it by the time she's changed and come back. ]

Well, tomorrow is the bake sale. [ With a tilt of his chin he points towards stacks of cupcakes sealed in huge bakery-size Tupperware containers. ] Those were the personal orders. I've got half the store's table done and then there's still tomorrow's restock since I won't be here, I'm going home after.

[corby]

[ She hums, walking up to him and promptly shoves a finger into the frosting to grab a taste of it, licking it off as she glances over to the containers. ] Why not just close the shop tomorrow? Will any of us be here? Little kids drop cookies and shit all the time, so I'm gonna be at the bake sale.

[ She says most of that around her finger, and moves to dive back in for more frosting when it's licked clean. ]

[ouzel]

[ No you feral corvid woman, Cassian will grab a small container of frosting just for you and your lack of food safety to eat with your fingers to your heart's content. Leave the rest of it be. Please.

Which means that he literally spins on his heel and dodges her diving for frosting with a snort. ]

...That's probably a good point. [ Might as well close. ] I'm going to take a few days off.

[ Because a 'day off' for Cassian usually involves being in the store for roughly an hour or so, just to deal with administrative duties that he doesn't expect Rhiannon to want to do or Jefferson to remember to do.

This time he plans on sleeping, first. If he can manage it. ]

May 4th with Crowe

[sirnyxalot]

[Nyx isn't sure yet whether to count the night as a win or just another notch to add to what the people in charge have to answer for. He's happy to see Crowe alive (not a cold corpse; a look of empty shock on a face that once held fire), of course he is, but he'd thought it was hard when Luna remembered almost nothing. Crowe was so much worse. Especially considering what she DID know.

There's a smell in the air and they're walking back through town. Nyx slows to a stop, holding up a hand for Crowe to wait, and looks around. A slow grin spreads across his face as he recognizes the source. It's a bit late for him to be working, but...]

You hungry?

o/

[allfornothing]

[ Crowe slows down when Nyx does, she's more or less tagging along with him as she tries to process... everything. It's at the same time harder and easier than before. Harder, because it is upsetting. Easier, because the fog around her mind doesn't seem quite as thick, now.

Her attention, though, is sharp enough that she pauses the moment he raises his hand, the gesture familiar enough to feel ingrained in the back of her eyelids. Then, the utterly mundane question, and she blinks at him. ]

Been a long day.

[ And more than that, and before that, it was three days or so on hospital fare.

Even with a direct question, it's difficult for her to confirm that, yes, she's pretty damn hungry. (Saying it never led to anything good for a very long time, after all.) But he can probably figure it out, right? ]

[sirnyxalot]

Come on. I want to introduce you to someone, then.

[Better to warn her now. He leads her back behind the face shops where they can see one door open, warmth and light spilling out into the alley. The smell is stronger now, most parts baked sugar with hints of fruit, and Nyx walks right up to the door to knock as he peeks in.]

Did you plan on sleeping at all tonight, Cass?

[ouzel]

[ There's an amused snort from inside the industrial kitchen the doorway opens up to, faint strains of music that went down in volume the moment Nyx knocked before the source of said snort appears, wiping his hands on a tea towel. There's flour on his forehead from where he wiped at it with the back of his hands and his expression is curious even as he glances over Crowe. ]

I have the day after tomorrow off. With luck, I'll sleep from exhaustion in the morning. [ Which is about how he gets his best and worst sleep, so...yay? Either way, Cassian shrugs. ] Bakesales are serious business. Hola, [ to Crowe, and he presents a hand for her to shake, now clean of various ingredients. ] I'm Cassian.

1

[sheriffing]

[ here's the thing about her argument over the hot chocolate: it's not entirely about Emma's love of hot chocolate. it's true that it's her favorite drink; she'll take it over coffee, tea, or anything else Jefferson's shop might sell, and it's been something of a constant in her mostly unstable life.

she's been drinking hot chocolate since she was a kid, through every foster home and every attempt at living out on her own. she remembers now, even if she didn't before. she knows it's something she has in common with her mom and her son, and even in all of that, it's not really about what he puts on his menu.

it's about the fact that Jefferson won't put it on there because she wants it. it's spite and stupidity and stubbornness on a level on which she refuses to be beaten.

so she's sure Cassian knows what she's going to ask for when she greets him, because it's the same request as always. the hot chocolate might not be year-round, but that doesn't mean Emma's going to stop asking for it. at least she greets him with a smile and slightly apologetic look that hints she might know exactly how ridiculous she's being about this.]

Morning, Cassian. Can I have a hot chocolate?

[ don't hate her, Cassian. you're her favorite.]

[ouzel]

[ Cassian occasionally steps back and considers his life right now, in Wayward Pines, and the myriad of ways that it is different from the life he led before - what with an apparent lack of galactic warfare and intelligence work and not having to kill people - and then he considers how some things are the same.

Jefferson and Emma's feud echoes in long-standing claims between rival powers that span entire solar systems. And here Cassian is, playing the middle somehow.

(How? Watch:)

Instead of answer Emma's question Cassian shakes his head and then...wanders away from the counter towards the espresso bar. ]

For all the times you've asked, we've never discussed the milk options.

[ As far as Cassian figures, if he just makes it and doesn't sell it then really...no, Jefferson will still be pissed and Cassian will have something to laugh about into his beer later. ]

[sheriffing]

The milk options of the hot chocolate your owner refuses to sell to me? He won't even throw me a packet of Swiss Miss.

[ not that she'd drink that crap, but her point stands. there's not a whole lot of room for variety in something that Jefferson won't put on the menu. and the fact that he doesn't want her to have it only makes her more determined to get it, in any reasonable way she can.

but, since he's asking: ]

I like it with whole milk.

[ because she's a physical education teacher who typically leads by example, so she'll work it off by the end of the day, anyway. she might as well indulge.]

Why, how do you take your hot chocolate?

[ whipped cream? cinnamon?]

[ouzel]

[ Not that Cassian would serve her that crap, either. Sugar, Corn Syrup, Modified Whey, Cocoa (processed with Alkali), Hydrogenated Coconut Oil, Nonfat Milk, Calcium Carbonate, less than 2% of: Salt, Dipotassium Phosphate, Mono- and Diglycerides, Carrageenan, Acesulfame, Potassium, Sucralose, Artificial Flavor. Carageenan is, as far as Cassian is aware, is some random bullshit filler that has no business in food. Not to mention the at least three sweeteners in it.

So at Swiss Miss Cassian's nose wrinkles a little. ]

I usually add things to it. Cinnamon, chili powder. [ A shrug, but he is getting out the whole milk and starts to steam it. ] It's good that way. Not for everyone, though.

May the 4th

[appetitive]

[Since arriving in Wayward Pines, Magnus has become particularly fond of Go Ask Alice. Not only does he love the tea, but the fact that the employees were waging a silent war against the official notices that covered the town endeared Magnus greatly. He was happy to spend his money anywhere that was willing to 'stick it to the man' as some might say.

Also, it smells heavenly every time he walks in the door. He doesn't know Cassian, really, but he's been into the shop often enough to know his name at least.] Cassian, is that spiced chai I smell brewing?

I lost this notif I am SO SORRY <3 plz forgive me

[ouzel]

It is in fact, good nose.

[ Cassian had been present for Magnus and Alec's conversation with Clary, and overheard...some of it. He wasn't actively trying to gather intel on them, it is just...the way he happens to be, he knows that now. For good reason, too.

So he's curious about Magnus. Plus, his husband runs a record store, that is pretty neat. ]

I have some that's already steeping if you want it?

no problem!

[appetitive]

If there's one thing I know, it's the heavenly scent of good tea.

[No harm, no foul. Magnus is aware that he isn't exactly the most inconspicuous person in town, so it's sort of a given that he gets noticed. At least having eyes on him is a devil he knows intimately.

Also yes his husband is 100% neat and needs friends. Just saying.]

I'd love a pot. And some conversation, if you're game. I know most people go into bars to chat with the staff, but drinking before ten o'clock is early even for me.

[ouzel]

Well, then. Clearly, you've come to the right place!

[ Cassian opens his hands - not quite wide, more like a mid-length shrug - but he does give Magnus a smile. ]

I'm always game to talk. [ Even more game to listen, but that's the spy talking. ] As long as you don't judge me for sticking to coffee.