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
no subject
Sorry, do I... know you?
[You're a pretty lady. I mean, obviously, I gotta know you.]
no subject
I didn't think it was possible for your head to get any clearer.
[Alright maybe she's still very bitter. He hurt her though. She's had a hard time trusting people and he had stupidly convinced her that he was trustworthy. Then she catches him with some girl from school. He seemed okay. Minus the whole lack of a memory, which is why her guard is all the way back up. When he asks if he knows her, Skye puts a hand up to silence him.]
If you're looking for someone to jog your memory, you should find someone else.
no subject
Wha... [He rubs the wrist to his sad mutilated hand and looks around at all the weirdly pleasant people passing by, some offering concerned glances as they go. He feels totally uncool, a weird half-gnarled lump hobbling around the road. Stick around too much longer and they'll all call for a zombie alert and blow the town up.] I don't think I have anyone else.
Nothing makes sense.
no subject
God dammit.]
What's the last thing you remember?
no subject
Weird, he feels kind of guilty. Maybe for not having a good answer.]
... Waking up? Eating bad jello?
no subject
[Like how he got this fucked up. She doesn't point out his lack of two fingers because she is sure he figured that out by now.]
no subject
They said it was probably an animal attack. In the forest.
I guess I was... camping. Or something.
no subject
[She would've heard about that. The whole town would have, which is why she doesn't sound like she believes that.]
Maybe you should sit down.
[As much as she fought herself to just leave him there, she can't. Especially when he looks as terrible as he does. Which is why she hesitantly moves closer to him in case he needs help sitting down.
no subject
Animal attack. He'd think it was insane, but he's got scratches on his neck and near his stomach that required some pretty nice stitches. He slowly lowers himself onto the bench, his legs wavering and threatening to tip him over. When he nearly does he puts his pathetically lacking hand on her arm.]
Sorry -- uh.
Do you... actually have a name, or is this a 'stranger danger' thing?
[He smiles thinly. Wince-smiling, really.]
Because you seem like you know me enough to not like me.
no subject
Despite the fact that she always felt the need to feel negative feelings towards Mike, she does smile a little at his question.]
Skye.
[She could've easily said something mean but she kept it to herself.]
Not that it'll make a difference if you can't remember your own name, you wouldn't remember mine.
[Once she's actually sitting, she takes about half a step back. Just to put some distance between them again.]
no subject
[He seems to recover a little, settling where he sits. Sure makes a difference to get off his feet, that's for damn sure. Now he's thinking maybe he was an half-baked egghead for even leaving the hospital to begin with. He looks down at the hospital clothing he's still decked out in and sighs.]
Look, I'm gonna be honest, I'm kinda freaking out.
It's not normal for someone to forget a face as nice as mine, right? [He chuckles nervously, more joking around so that he doesn't just totally panic about this entire day.] I'm in over my handsome head here. Like... I -- I'm supposed to look in mirrors and recognize myself. That's a thing people are supposed to do.
no subject
This is so not how she imagined this day going.]
You're not the first person to wake up with memory loss around here, for what that's worth.
[There are things she remembers and there's memories that she isn't sure what to make of.]
no subject
I've learned. What the hell's up with all the people getting admitted to hospitals here...?
Sounds like they need more Safety PSAs in this town.
[#understatement of the year]
no subject
[It was an honest answer and it was clear she was frustrated by not knowing. With a sigh Skye moved to take a seat on the bench, although she kept some distance between them. Leaning her arms onto her knees, Skye looked over to him.]
Do you need help getting home?
no subject
[He's kind of a meathead, and he can't remember being a swarmy ass, really, but he's got a feeling he must've done something that made him unpleasant company. That, or he's just got a face that screams 'Fuckboy'. He settles an arm across his ribs; they ache a little, but he's feeling less like he's gonna puke or fall over, now that he's sitting.]
I don't know what I did to piss you off, but if you don't want to stick around, it's all good. Really. I can figure out directions to... wherever I live.
no subject
Feelings are complicated.]
It's complicated and I don't think you'd appreciate the retelling right now. I'd feel better knowing you at least got home okay.
[She knew people wouldn't fault her for just leaving him, and part of her brain was telling her that he'd talk some chick into helping him home. Yet here she was, feeling guilty at the mere idea of just leaving him.]
no subject
He smiles sheepishly.]
... I don't know if I can get up now that I'm sitting down.
[Like, his legs feel like they're not actually gonna move him.
Ahahaha, fucksticks.]
no subject
[Just because she was being nice didn't mean she couldn't be a little bit of a know it all at the same time]
Remember how you thought you were ready to be out of the hospital?
[Still, she stands back up. Why did she even sit down? Moving over to him, Skye held her hands out to him silently.]
no subject
[He grins up, though, reaching tentatively until his hand was in hers.
Well, as long as she's not pissed off.]
Promise you won't drop me on my ass for fun?
no subject
As fun as that would be, I'm not that cruel.
[Skye looked around realizing something. Where the hell did he live? She swears she's been to his place before and yet...]
Um. Which way is your house?