JUNE 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.
JUNE 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.
JUNE 5TH | GLUG GLUG'S GRAND OPENING! |
Town hall is listening, and town hall has heard you loud and clear (their surveillance equipment is of the highest quality, after all). While there appears to have been some... clerical issues and red tape concerning the highest voted name, when the fifth rolls around the newly completed and lovingly anointed
Glug Glug's opens its doors to the public for the official grand opening!
For an old diner, this place has undergone an amazing transformation, with a ground, second, and basement floor all open to the public and offering a wide variety of entertainment options within:
The ground floor features a long bar along one wall where one can order coffee, tea, soda, hot chocolate, whatever your little caffeinated heart desires, as well as alcoholic drinks 10% or under — provided you can show some form of ID, of course. Linda, perched at the bar with a mimosa in hand, will tell anyone who listens that
she voted for Pubby McPubface, but honestly, who's listening to Linda, anyway? Pastries and small appetizers are also available at half price for the special event, and card and board games make inviting and colorful centerpieces on the tables scattered around the room (there are classics like Monopoly and the rousing game of Jenga in the corner, amongst less common fare you
may not have played before, like Cards Against Humanity and Settlers of Catan).
A lounge on the second floor overlooks the ground floor and features plush couches and chairs, ambient lighting and a pleasant, relaxing atmosphere to contrast with the low buzz of activity below. A small balcony out back provides a peaceful, quiet view of some of the very pines after which our town was named.
The basement is where anyone interested will find music, dance, billiards and booze. A small stage on one end features regular local live performances, with a vast stretch of the room devoted to a dance floor and just a few private booths set into the wall around the edges. The bar down here serves the harder stuff to those that can prove they're old enough to be handling it, and one corner of the room is devoted to a billiards table and two large pinball machines.
Technically the basement level is open to all ages, but getting down there requires showing your ID and getting your hand stamped, and anyone under 16 is
highly encouraged to be accompanied by an adult. And, of course, anyone caught sneaking drinks to minors will be summarily kicked out, as well as reported to Sheriff Griffith for a good talking to about, you know, civic duty and such. It's honestly not worth it, you
know how he goes on.
Today is supposed to be a party after all, let's not spoil it just yet.
MOD NOTES
Welcome to our fifth 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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pineslog2017-05-31 09:13 pm
INTRODUCTION LOG
henry cooldown ★ 1~5th ★ hospital → home → glug-glug's ★ OTA
It's not the memory of the chaos that startles him most, even if he does awake with a start. The sudden flash of white washing over him, penetrating his eyes until he can feel the rays scrape the back of his skull is what alarms him the most. He almost thinks he's lucid dreaming, but the shock feels too real. Immediately he realizes it's not a dream, he's in a hospital. The smell gave it away. How did he know that it was the smell that gave it away? Did he always lucid dream that often to know?
Despite the disarray inside his brain, he's rather calm. His chest heaves with labored breathing, but otherwise, he's compliant with whatever the nurses ask of him. When he asks a nurse what happened, she's about to open her mouth when suddenly she's called away. With a quick apology, she finishes up whatever she was doing and leaves the room.
He feels fine, so instead of waiting around for longer than he must, he gathers himself and looks for his clothes. No way he's walking out of here in just hospital gowns. With some misplaced urgency, he trudges over to the door and leans against the frame. It's so busy... nurses and doctors pacing across the floor, guiding patients new and old alike to where they need to be and he just wants his fucking clothes—
"Anyone have a decent pair of pants around here?" Said aloud to seemingly nobody and anybody that just happens to be passing by.
ＩＩ． ｓｕｎｓｈｉｎｅ ｓｌａｙｅｒ
Oh, flowers. Flowers? Did he plant those? No...right. That's right. It wasn't him.
"Oh, bloody— what's her name again? ...Yuki?"
He jiggles the keys he received from the sheriff into the keyhole, simultaneously hoping it's the right one and knowing it'll work. That was probably the source of unease, he assumes, knowing that there was someone here and who knows how long he must've been out?
Sure hopes he didn't worry her.
He keeps saying 'her' like he remembers her. The image is still fuzzy and the name is on the tip of his tongue, but he finally gives up on picking his brain and resolves to cross that bridge when he gets to it. If you're a neighbor, feel free to catch him muttering under his breath about the keys 'being difficult'.
ＩＩＩ． ｂｒｅａｋｉｎｇ ｌｏｏｓｅ
There's a system to this. You start light and easy, then get to the strong stuff should the fancy strike. If the first drink doesn't invite a more involved night, then he cuts himself off there and heads home but... well, this is the grand opening, and it's nice to see familiar (if a bit vague in their familiarity) faces.
First drink: A ginger ale with a little bite to it. Refreshing and won't have him feeling the warmth creep up on his ears. He doesn't involve himself too much in the fun, just watching the games unfold (he really enjoys the tension Jenga brings) and striking up conversations with neighbors.
Second drink: A trip downstairs and a glass of whiskey with his name on it, a game of pool sounds like a good idea. It doesn't matter who's at the table, if there's a vacancy, he'll chalk up a stick and invite himself into a game, or invite some into his currently empty one.
(If they say no, he backs off and watches. He has plenty of patience. Or he just shrugs and turns back to practice his shots- his hand-eye coordination still feels a bit rusty after that accident.)
breaking loose? or is it...
I'll see myself out][ By now he recognizes most people in town that he only found vaguely familiar before. His memory's settling, and this town isn't the only thing in it. There's more nagging at him and he's slow to let it in, using tonight as a distraction from all the various thoughts trying to force their way in at once.
Of course, drinking coffee and stimulating his mind is totally going to help that, right? Yeah, no. But he finds he prefers that over dreams or drunkenness right now and that's what matters. He catches sight of someone he recognizes as from his neighborhood area and makes his way over, following his line of sight while he makes himself comfortable nearby. ]
You call the next game?
applause
Sure. Fancy yourself any good?
[ Not that it matters to Henry any, but he likes to gauge an opponent's level even before the game begins. ]
couldn't help it, man
[ He grins as he comment, because it's partially true. He doesn't know, but he's pretty sure he knows. It's nerdery at its finest but overall it's math and skill and he knows he's got those. Not in question. Is he in shape, though? That's to be determined. ]
What about you?
B^)
I might be quite average. If anything, I'm the perfect baseline to compare your skills to.
[ He starts fishing out the stray balls from the pockets, letting them roll lazily across the felt. ]
no subject
[ He starts working around the opposite end of the table to retrieve the rest before he turns and grabs a cue for himself. He leans on it, watching the leftover movement before he looks back up to Henry. ]
You want break, or...? Hey look, I remember how to play. That's a good sign.
no subject
We're on a roll, aren't we? I've got the basics of the game down, now to get the muscle memory going—
[ Taking the plastic triangle, he settles it over the pile and shuffles them gently. The sound of hard resin clacking gently against each other is strangely comforting, in a nostalgic sort of way. Like watching a good movie and immersing one's self into a gritty noir scene. He slides the triangle off,
hanging it on a nearby hook. ]
I'll break.
[ And without really waiting for much of an answer, he sets the cue ball down on the green. Then with deliberate thoughtfulness, weaves the tip of the pool cue through his two fingers, resting them there comfortably. Then he slides the stick back and forth, rhythmically, with an uneven beat. It's a process, really. The chalky blue tip lines up neatly with the white ball, and with a sharp thrust of his arm, he sends the ball crashing into the others. The crash is dramatic, but despite all the flair, not a single ball goes into a socket. ]
no subject
[ His comment is meant to be humorous, entertained by the lack of any immediate impact into the game once the set is broken. He circles around the table for a moment while eyeing the potential shots for himself. ]
Are we calling? [ That seems like the thing to do. Maybe he doesn't remember as much as he should but he's good at pretending, anyway. ] Either way, stripe in the corner pocket.
[ He shifts, aligning himself and preparing for the shot. Left-handed, little awkward for where the table is placed but he deals. Bam! Going, going... and it bumps right off the edge of it, a near-miss. ]
no subject
Oof, looks like we're both terrible. Suppose you have a better excuse though, what with being a lefty.
[ The drink he brought along with him is finally given some attention as he takes a swig, looking for a solid color to sink. ]
no subject
What, you think lefty is a disadvantage?
Let's see if the second shot's any better.
no subject
[ Though he supposes one could say for a right-handed person trying to hit a ball that's way more suited for a lefty. He gets behind a shot that seems a little tricky: the ball needs to hit the wall at an angle to get into a corner pocket. ]
Corner pocket.
[ He shoots- and this time, he scores. It almost seems flawless, so much that even Henry draws back in mild surprise. ]
Well. How unexpected.
no subject
[ He reaches over to clap him on the back and moves to observe the new arrangement on the table. Pauses, inspects it, then looks back up. ]
Your move again, isn't it? See if you can't keep that up.
Choose Your Own Adventure
Careful, you might bring out the brutally competitive nature in me.
[ Not that he thinks he is, but there is that bit of need to win. He hits the cue ball again, lining it up in seemingly easy fashion. One feint, two feint...crack!]
the best kind of adventure.
[ It doesn't phase him, anyway. He watches as the ball rockets into another one and rushes across the table, only to glance off the wall and lose its momentum and trajectory. It's close, though. ]
That's a shame. Saw what you were doing there.
[ He moves, studies the whole field himself. Takes position and he's going for the easy shot right now to test himself more than trying to play it up for the sake of the game. Just lines it up and goes for it. ]
no subject
[ He grins. So much for the confident words. He tries not to wince too obviously as the ball ricochets off the wall and gives him zero points. Shrugging, he takes a step back to watch. ]
So, what's your story? Or at least what you recall of it, anyway.
[ The easy shot garners an easy point, and Henry watches the cue ball line up a little awkwardly behind the eight ball. A high angle shot would suffice to try and separate them... ]
no subject
[ He pauses, frowning over the next shot. Waits a moment and then sighs. ]
There's way more than that but that's the most recent. Easiest to recall. You?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
ii.
(Surprisingly, it seemed to be in fairly good condition, like it wasn't in the accident with her at all. But then... how did the Sheriff get it? Ugh, her head hurt thinking about it.)
The bow stayed in her hand as Yukari got up from the couch, a memory she wanted to cling to, perhaps use to clear the fog in her head. A hand slid over her skirt to smooth out the pleats, and she shrugged her bow over her shoulder, letting the string cut across her chest. The door is opened with a slight breeze, and her expression knits in confusion. Something about this guy seemed familiar (in that he felt important, but the fog was still thick and the memory was too far away), but Yukari is content to let him futz with the keys for a few seconds more before:
"D'you need some help?"
no subject
"No, that's quite alright," he says, hands now down by his sides as he tries to figure out how to go about doing this. "I believe... hm, I hope this doesn't come off too alarming but, I believe I live here."
Then he eyes the flowers, he remembers a girl planting them. He gets the feeling that it's her, like he can remember just a figure but no distinct details.
no subject
Oh! Right! That was how she knew this guy. It all seemed to click into place in a second, and with a toss of her head, Yukari gave Henry a polite bow.
"Yeah you do, Mr. Cooldown," Yukari finally replied, grinning slightly. That's always struck her as... a very odd last name, but there's nothing she can do about it now. Later, maybe, she'll tease him about it. "Here, c'mon in, let me just clean up a bit."
Clean up, she says, like the entire house isn't already spotless. There's just a bag of new clothes on the sofa next to a small metal case, no big deal.
no subject
"Right- er," he starts, passing the threshold of the front entrance and looking around curiously. "Was it always this spotless in here? For some reason, I had a feeling I'd be stepping into a much more...lived-in home."
The metal case grabs his attention for sure, but he doesn't ask about it just yet.
no subject
But that's fine, she'll step back from the door for now, tapping her toe on the floor for a second. "I started heating up some water for tea. D'you want some?"
For now, small talk is the best talk. If just looking at him has woken up a memory or two, then... surely something else could shake out, right?
no subject
"I would, thanks."
Then like he'd suddenly made himself at home, he walks past her and heads towards the room that's his. It's automatic, and he realizes it halfway there, but he doesn't stop until he gets to the door.
"So, the flowers out there are yours, are they? I vaguely recall someone wanting to spruce the place up a bit."
no subject
It's a little frustrating, but she'll deal.
"Yeah, they are!" she finally called back, setting the box on the counter. Tea; she'll have to get more of it later. "I think they might be getting too much sun on that side, though."
no subject
"Funny how it works, memory," he says, coming back towards the kitchen while shaking his head. "To think I remembered the flowers before I even remembered our living situation!"
While Henry isn't a tea connoisseur, he can always appreciate good tastes. That being said, he currently has no idea what to expect.
no subject
"I didn't remember anything about here. I found my way to this place accidentally." She set Henry's tea down on the coffee table before taking her seat, waiting for her host to rejoin her. "I just got my stuff and they handed me a key to this place."
With that, she took a sip of her tea and ... wrinkled her nose. Yeah, she's going to need to pick up new stuff soon. This is far too caffeinated for her taste.