pineslog | (may intro) WELCOME TO WAYWARD PINES!

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(may intro) WELCOME TO WAYWARD PINES!

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.

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Leia has been around droids her entire life, they were her friends when she was younger and attempting to avoid being a princess, and they grew more trusted and more important as she grew into an adult, and became involved with the rebellion. After so long with C3PO, Leia learned that each droid had it's own personality and each personality brought along with it it's own sounds and personality.

But now she was remembering the sound of the little droid, and it reminded her of where she wasn't, and who she wasn't with. However, that droid had a name, and he had an owner, and that was someone else who was important. "BB-8." The name was soft, but there was certainty to go along with the words.

"They'll get used to you." Her words echo Poe's, and she looks around the sale, and then down at the clipboard that she's holding as if she'd never seen the thing before despite having it all morning. There's a subtle flick of fingers towards Poe, a gesture she doesn't quite remember the meaning of other than that it's one she's made at him often.

General Organa. His heart lifts, for a just a moment, before the galaxy comes crashing down around him.

She shouldn't be here.

And he failed her. He failed her, he failed the Resistance. For all he knows the First Order strip mined his consciousness, took the names of their bases, their personnel. Maybe that's why he can't remember anything, maybe this whole place belongs to the First Order--

Except that doesn't make sense, because the First Order would have killed him and the General outright. He's not sure how he knows that, but he does. This kind of pageantry isn't their style. This is something else.

His first instinct--to do what BB-8 is doing and close the distance between them at top speed--dissipates, and he waits for a order to approach.

Leia watched Poe carefully, even though he seemed more than a little bit fuzzy on the edges around him because the two of them were not supposed to be here. It was as sharp of knowledge as Leia had ever known: the two of them (three of them) were not supposed to be here. It was as simple as that, and Leia only needed to look up at the open sky above them to know it.

She too has the idea that this might be a First Order trick, but she expects that Snoke would have had her killed before she could have gotten anywhere near Ben or anyone who might have been near Ben. There were times in her life where she doubted things, but this was not one of them. Whatever was happening here, it wasn't the First Order. So what concerned her more was who in the galaxy could have the ability to do this to them.

Subtly the General gestured towards the office that memory told her was her own, and yes, there was her name embossed on the door like it had been there for years. The writing wasn't familiar, but it was right somehow, and she could read it. Weren't you not supposed to be able to read in dreams? So this wasn't a dream. Still, while she leaned against her desk, pale as her suit jacket, the Princess caught the webbing of her thumb between her other index and forefingers, squeezing as tightly as she could.

It hurt. This was still real.

Poe follows her, suddenly back on that First Order ship, being led toward death. He shakes himself, trying to shed the feeling. This is his General.

He failed her.

But she's a guiding light. He knows that. It must be even more true here, when he has so little to go on, so much of it bad.

Poe closes the door gently behind him and BB-8, standing at attention, trying to gauge from her face whether or not she already knows what he's done. His fingers prickle with the memory of pain, neuroshock, the white haze of time stretching out into eternity while he lost himself to screaming and waited for it to stop. Stop, breathe, spit blood and scorn at the interrogator, have it start again, just fractionally worse.

Poe swallows once, twice, conquering the need to vomit into the bin next to the General's desk. (Not her desk, not her office, none of this right, all of it horrifyingly wrong.)

Edited 2017-05-07 18:49 (UTC)

There's something wrong with Poe. There's something wrong with Poe and it causes a sharpness within Leia's chest. Of course there's something wrong with Poe because there's something that's wrong with the entire situation, but this seems different. This seems worse. Leia Organa doesn't know how she knows, but she knows that she's known this man for most of his life, and she knows that she trusts him when the people that she trusts here she can count on the fingers of a single hand.

And she doesn't remember how, but she knows that she remembers seeing him in many ways, but she's never seen him like this. He looks practically green, and one doesn't need the force or any training to know that he looks like he's going to throw up. All one needs to remember is being the mother of a very stubborn boy who was always determined that he wasn't going to be sick.

Moving close to him, Leia leans in nearer, one hand on his arm in a gentle, supportive way. She's probably not touched him like this since he was young, but right now he feels young to her in the same way that this whole world does, and if he's going to be one of her touchstones, Leia needs to make sure that he's okay. "What is it?" It's her gentle voice, reserved for new people, hurting people, and those people who she cares about. "What's wrong?" And then the amendment because what wasn't wrong right now. "Other than the obvious."

"General," Poe says, and there's a plea in it, please don't ask, please don't make me say. Poe can hold up to a lot, but not to that voice. He can keep up appearances as long as he remembers there are cameras in place, even manage a smile. "I'd rather put it in a report."

Which says pretty clearly how much he doesn't want to talk about it. Like most of his pilots, he'd rather clean the urine filters of a deep space flight suit than write a report, and the General is bound to realize that. There's safety in a report, in this case. He can give himself distance, act like the whole thing happened to someone else.

But he can't get himself to completely refuse her, either. "You sent me on assignment. I don't remember what." Poe bites the corner of his lip, sinking his teeth lightly into a cut there, grounding himself. "I got caught."

Hopefully, probably, she can infer the rest.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," he says, very quietly. "I'm sorry." I tried, he almost adds, but it doesn't matter if he tried. He failed. That's the part that counts.

Edited 2017-05-08 22:02 (UTC)

Paperwork. No one liked to do paperwork. Leia herself hated paperwork but she would do the same sort of thing that Poe did with it. When she returned to the rebel base, she had put what had happened to Alderaan in a report because saying the words would be like it happened again and again with each sound she uttered. She couldn't have lived through that, not when she had barely lived through it once, so that was something that Leia understood entirely about what he meant.

But then he spoke, and Leia frowned, and the hand on his arm gripped it tighter. She couldn't remember the mission that she'd sent him on, not the specifics of it, not the reason but she'd sent him on so many that she wasn't surprised in the slightest that Poe was the person that she used. General Organa trusted Poe since she could remember, and despite what happened, she trusted him now.

Perhaps she trusted him even more, with that apology and the fact that he tried that he didn't try to qualify things with. Leia didn't need him to do that. "It's alright, Poe. I know that you did the best that you could do." She didn't sound disappointed, but she did sound concerned for him, because of his reaction. "Whatever happened, I highly doubt it's the reason that we're here now." And then she said with quiet certainty, the kind that only came when Leia allowed the Force within her to speak to her. "No Jedi or Sith or First Order could do this. This is different and whatever else, we need to deal with this first. That's where we need to stick our focus, Poe."

Poe was like Leia, she'd always thought, and that was what she was doing with this new knowledge; focusing on the way to get the hell out of here. "We've got to find a way home." Leia didn't know about the cameras, not yet, but in the heat of this moment, she wouldn't particularly care either.

His best wasn't good enough. He wants to remind her of that, but she doesn't give him the chance, and he can't help but think that's intentional. Because then she's moving on, giving him something to focus on. Doing exactly what he needs her to in order to pull himself together.

Poe straightens, gratitude for General Organa's existence making his heart ache with that painful sort of pride. "Yes ma'am. Bee?"

The droid knows his job. He chirrups, reporting the locations of the cameras in the room to the both of them. Poe's still not sure whether or not the people monitoring those cameras can understand the droid, but at least the General knows now that they're being watched. He raises an eyebrow. "Those signs in the windows aren't just for show."

"No, they don't seem to be, do they?" Leia makes a point of not looking at the cameras, just in case their captives can't understand the droid. If possibly, Leia wants them to think that she understands what he's saying as little as possible. It'd be easier for them to use the droid to pass messages that way in an emergency. And if Leia's life had taught her anything at all, it's that there would always be some sort of emergency, especially in places like this where some idiot tried to control everything.

They just needed to be ready.

For a moment, Leia just looks at the paperwork on her desk, touching the paper and marveling at it slightly. She can see what they assumed her writing to be on it, but they were wrong. Leia's writing would be sharp and spiky and quick. They underestimated her with their swirls and their feminine wraps on it. "I think that we need to start by focusing on just how far those signs go, don't you think?" And by far, Leia meant distance. This place wasn't really any larger than the largest of the rebel bases if her memories could be trusted (and who knew if they could be, really) so there needed to be some sort of way out.

"Where are you staying?" The memories had given her people she hadn't known until she'd seen them today, but trusting Poe and wanting him close by was something that was entirely her own: this town couldn't touch the damned thing. But she hoped that he was on the same street as she was, just in case. Less area to worry about, less pieces to put into motion when things went badly.

"6105, ma'am. It's me and a girl named Rey at the moment. She knows BB-8."

At the moment, because he can't imagine keeping a house that big to himself for long. He's already thinking about asking Alex if he wants to move in (his nephew, the one BB-8 says he doesn't have). Poe rubs his lower lip with the side of his thumb, thinking.

"I'm told there's a wall that cuts the valley off where the cliffs end. It has some kind of suppression field around it. I've been thinking about taking a look. Satisfy my curiosity."

For a moment Leia just looks up at the mention of Rey and there is a stricken expression on her face; she can't help it. She remembers the niece that the town says that she has, but there's also something else there, and she can't place her finger on what it is.

But she doesn't want to leave Poe out of the loop, and she doesn't think that it's any form of a coincidence that two of the people she felt like she had strong connections with were put together. Keeping her voice low, Leia just actually said it. "Rey is my niece according this place. But I don't think that the two of you are living together for no reason." This place had grouped them, just as it had left her with her memories of Han and Ben and she wondered if they too would find themselves victims of "accidents" where they didn't remember her.

That seemed to be the idea of a special sort of hell.

And yes, she caught the bit about exploring, but right now this piece of things seemed more important.

Niece. General Organa's niece. That's a dizzying thought. No less so than his own relations and the clear and comforting memories of them.

"I have a cousin, and a nephew." Poe pauses, briefly and deeply uncomfortable. "And an ex. I'm not living with any of them. No disrespect, General, but what would putting us together do?"

"I don't know. It could be a way to keep people from wanting to escape, or as a way of keeping people engaged with the town. Or a way to remind us to keep our noses clean. The Empire was very good at reminding you that caring about people can often be a disadvantage." Like of course when you happened to care about your planet or your friends or your family.

"But I think it's important for some reason, and if there's something that my life has shown to be true, it's that you should trust your gut." Especially when it's Force-sensitive, even if you don't know quite what that is right now.

"Yes ma'am." It consistently amazes him how grounding General Leia Organa is. The dozens of half-formed plans, frustrations, rebellions settle in his mind like silt churned up by a swimmer. Still there, but not clouding his thinking nearly so much.

Poe smiles like his next question is a joke, but it's anything but. "Any standing orders?"

"Same standing orders as always," Leia begins confidently, her eyes on him. She knows him, and she knows that rebellion is in his blood just as much as it is in hers. That's one of the reasons that she'd connected with him so strongly, and always has been since he had first joined the resistance.

"Don't do anything stupid and get yourself killed." Because doing something stupid and getting himself killed was always a possibility, because he was just so smart and dedicated and important. And he was especially important here.

"And keep in contact with me if you find out anything. We need to know what's going on as soon as possible and if there's people here who we can trust."

Poe's lips twitch. "I won't if you won't. General sir."

Still, he salutes. "I'll keep you posted."

Even if it's through BB-8. It probably will be through BB-8. It's safer that way.

Leia just smirked at him, the same smirk that she'd always had even as a younger woman. Something's never changed and that was one of them. "Now Poe," Leia began in a bland sort of tone. "When have you ever known me to break my standing order?"

Leia the answer is often that is often. But anyway. "You should come for dinner once a week. We'll make it standing date to discuss things. You can bring whoever you like, of course."

Leia supports Poe finding a partner of all sorts.

He blinks. Dinner once a week. It's not particularly unusual--he's eaten with the generals in the officer's mess. It's just the context, the part of him that believes with complete clarity in this place and the lives built to fit them. It clashes, dinner with the Leia Organa of Wayward Pines and dinner with the General.

The moment passes.

"There's a couple of people you should probably meet. ...That nephew, for one. He lives by himself. He's just a kid."

"I definitely should met him. Apparently I have a grandson here too. His name is Percy, but somehow I can't remember who his parent is." Maybe Ben? She didn't know; that part of her memory was quite fuzzy indeed. She expected it for a reason. "Anyone we know is from our universe certainly. I know Cassian Andor is here." Leia's voice dropped a bit, because that was puzzling.

"I didn't expect them to pull people from different times." It made her wonder if people were coming from a later time than her, and if she could somehow use that to her advantage to know that Snoke was coming, and to be better prepared to stop all of this.

"I don't remember his mother, either."

Poe's sister, if this place is to be believed, which he's thinking more and more that it isn't. Poe shifts when she mentions Cassian, that sense of home and family the man carries with him. "He's... I remember him being my cousin. Cass, I mean."

"Well, that's one good thing that they decided to put you together." Along with Rey, who she knew that she knew from home even though she didn't know her. Taking a deep breath she just nodded, and ended the nod with a smile.

"Apparently this me knows how to cook." The knowledge was surprising, but general organa could remember it entirely. "Han would laugh." Because he made fun of how sometimes when she was tired she couldn't even make her own tea.

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(may intro) WELCOME TO WAYWARD PINES!

4! May the fifth be with you?

may the fourth fifth with you??

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cw for torture

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