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pineslog2017-05-14 06:03 pm
officialnotice) wrote in pineslog2017-05-14 06:03 pm
( may event ) sudden recall
EVENT: SUDDEN RECALL
On the day of the fifteenth, as the sun finally begins to break through the clouds that have been hanging over the town for weeks, the incessant ringing of your house phone similarly pierces the stillness, and refuses to cease until you answer it. You're free to leave your house and simply ignore it, of course, but judging by the distant sounds of ringing coming from all of the other houses on your street as well, it's probably an important call. It would really be a shame if you missed it.
... or it could just be an update from the mayor on the town's current state of post-flood recovery. But maybe that is important to you. Civic pride is important, after all, you'd never catch Linda missing an address from the mayor. Even one as strange as this one.
The voice on the other line isn't as polished or eloquent as you'd expect from someone in such a high position of authority, sounding rather dazed and distracted instead, with meandering sentences, abrupt stops, and sudden topic shifts. The information's all there, certainly, if you can parse through the mess, but something about the delivery itself is troubling, something that lingers in the back of your mind like a shadow throughout the day.
Maybe it happens the moment you hang up the phone, or perhaps a few hours later as you're gossiping with a neighbor about whether or not the mayor has a drinking problem, but at some point during the day you're suddenly struck, sent nearly reeling by a vision, a... memory? The chill of metal against your bare back, a bustle of men and women around you, like a churning tide of movement. Their voices a steady drone of clipped conversation around you, but the words themselves are indecipherable. It doesn't seem to slot neatly into your misty memories of Wayward Pines, but then, it doesn't feel anything like that troubling other that's been steadily building and growing in your mind since that fateful day you woke up in the hospital not so long ago.
And yet it feels real all the same.
Over the next few days, it quickly becomes clear that you aren't the only one feeling... off. All over town the people of Wayward Pines are acting strange, distracted, wary. Even Linda fails to make any of her weirdly competitive passive aggressive comments when you see her at the bakery. So that's one good thing to come of all this, at least.MOD NOTES
This is a catch-all for any and all threads pertaining to the sudden recall event!
PLEASE INCLUDE IN YOUR TOP-LEVEL SUBJECT LINE: Character Name, date, location, and open or closed, to help keep things a bit more organized.
If you have any questions regarding this event, feel free to ask them here.
Logan | May 15th | Closed & Open
When the phone rings, he's yelling for everybody to get moving, because the carpool is going to leave without them, and they'll have to walk to school (no it's not and no they won't). Ignoring the phone seems like a good idea until he realizes that their phone isn't the only one ringing. There are so many of them all at once that, to his sensitive hearing, it's like some kind of bizarre echo. It's not so much that he cares about answering it, especially not to toe the line. It's more that, now, he's curious.
He's not really sure what to make of the message. "What the fuck," he mutters, just as he's reaching out to return the phone to its cradle. That's when it hits him, and the phone ends up clattering to the floor as he braces himself against the table.
"Fuck," he says again, this time more of a guttural, angry denial. His memories of life before this town have been slowly coming back to him, and there still seem to be some gaps. From what he does remember, though, he suspects that those might never go away. This newest bit of information--he's not quite sure about when it goes, where to slot it away among all of the other bullshit. It serves to dredge up other memories. Similar experiences, in clinical environments, surrounded by people in lab coats. Some of them aren't terrible. He recalls one instance where he was lying on a table, but it was of his own volition, and a beautiful red-haired woman stood over him. Jean.
The clearest in his head, though, is Alkali's lab. The tank. The huge fucking needles, and the adamantium. Whatever this new piece of the puzzle is, he doesn't think it's related. What the hell does it mean? What the fuck did they do to me, this time?
A growl starts to build deep in his throat as he picks up the fallen phone and presses it to his ear again; but of course, there's nothing to be heard, now. He sets it down on the cradle, the steady calm of his action almost belying the rage he can feel starting to build. It erupts suddenly, along with his claws. He stabs the phone violently, along with the table where it's sitting. The phone is stuck on his claws now, so he flings it against the wall, where it breaks apart into pieces.
And then, just like that, he retracts his claws and yells, "Hurry up, I'll be in the van!"
Open @ school
Logan is very clearly in a bad mood. He's late to his first class in the morning, which means no time to stop for coffee in the teacher's lounge, which means bourbon flavored bourbon instead of coffee flavored bourbon will be his drink of choice for much of the morning. He's stealthy about it at least. It's in a coffee mug. It's fine. Everything is fine.
His main problem is that he's not sure where to aim his anger, and that's not really a new problem; but it does certainly make him a pain for his students and colleagues to deal with today. The fact that some of them are probably also out of sorts for the same reason might lead to hostility or to a shared commiseration. I'm an experiment. You're an experiment. Usually he's not one to talk shit out without some coaxing, but he's going to be cool with it today probably. Fuck the rules. He's kind of been feeling that sentiment more and more as the days and weeks wear on, and he recovers more of himself.
During class time, his students will probably see him carving away at a block of wood while he's not helping them with their own projects. It looks like it might turn out to be an animal. Maybe. A cat? A dog? An alpaca? Who knows. His carving tools are his own claws, though, for the most part. He doesn't hide the fact that he's different; that he's a mutant. It's never been a problem, here. If it were, he would have raised hell about it already.
He spends his prep period in the teacher's lounge, chatting to friends and colleagues, maybe discussing the mayor's weird message from earlier in the day.
Open @ other
After school, he tosses the keys to his oldest daughter and decides to walk back home, hoping that it will clear his head somewhat. He stops for dinner somewhere, and also probably definitely hits up a bar. After the day he's had, he certainly wants to drown it in something.
Open @ wildcard
If you want to meet him somewhere else or have another idea, feel free to hit me with whatever!
school - teacher's lounge
"So, woof, that uh... Thing earlier? With the mayor? What a mess, huh?"
He's also not quiet, doesn't hide the curiosity in his voice or the raise in volume when he hits the subject. He doesn't mention the memories, not outright, but he does hint and nudge at the subject. He's mostly focused on the mayoral address itself.
"Talk about distracted - Like, could we ask for some professionalism, please?" Taako's eyes sweep the room to catch reactions as he idly stirs his coffee. It needs more sugar.
no subject
Her instinct, once she'd remembered those fragments of what had been done to her (to them all?), was to turn to the people she cared about most. Unfortunately, that was problematic for poor Rogue. The only person in town who knew about her past experiences was Damon, and she couldn't burden him with this, not when he had his own terrible memories to deal with (and when he wasn't really anything to her at all really). And Logan... She couldn't even tell if this was her Logan, if he was the one who had saved her life and who she'd waited for all those years.
It was that not knowing that got to her. After the weeks they'd spent living together, or her wondering and hoping, she just couldn't take it anymore. So she waited for him that night, sitting in the living room with a book she very clearly wasn't reading, waiting for when he would come home. There were things she needed to say, questions she needed to ask, even if she doubted that she would like any of the answers he might have to give her.