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
peter nureyev ( "pierce steel" ) » 6/1-6/5 » housing/main street/bar » ota
no subject
[ She's not sure exactly what she's doing, to be honest. Some vague plan of keeping some vague eye on the hospital administrator who's on her lunch break and apparently spending it shopping. It feels like she's following some instinct that's just beyond her grasp, like it's something she should know how to do but she can't quite remember.
But honestly this is getting her nowhere, fast, and in the moment her attention is diverted by the newcomer the administrator has left the shop anyway.
What the hell.
She smiles, and shrugs the coat onto her five-foot-nine frame, half-listening as she buttons it.
Or tries to. It's just a bit too tight across the chest, the button straining as she wiggles around in it, trying to see if it will sit better if she shrugs--nope.
Rachel smiles up at him, raising her hand, one finger drifting back and forth at chest height. ]
Before I slouch: how's your husband's rack? If it's anything like mine you might want to go up a size.
no subject
[ details details details, juno is somewhat slight, so it works sort of? the lay of the fabric is nice, the shoulders too, and he looks at her thoughtfully. he gestures to a mirror not far from the both of them. ]
What do you think of the color? [ it's taupe and the cut is rather flattering. ]
no subject
[ She turns and looks at her reflection in a nearby mirror, mouth pressing into a thoughtful, thinner line for a moment. ]
A detective, huh? I'm jealous. I wanted to be one, when I was a kid.
[ And she'd acted on it. Hadn't she? She meant to.
She shakes off the memory, squaring her shoulders, reaching up to undo that one straining button. ]
As coats for detectives go, I don't think you can go wrong with this one. It's a classic style and the color lends itself well to creeping around, you know?
no subject
[ peter's finger moves thoughtfully to her reflection a moment, nodding in agreement to her words rather firmly. it looks rather dashing on her as well, he has to admit, a smile playing over his lips as he watches her square her shoulders a bit. it suits her as well.
he feels like there's something missing with this entire ensemble really as he moves towards a nearby hat rack, he gives it a bit of a casual spin. he chuckles: ]
It's an utterly fascinating profession, you know, being a detective. [ he turns to look at her over his shoulder. ] What stopped you from taking it up, Miss...?
no subject
[ Her brow creases slightly at his question. She glances up at his reflection in the mirror, her eyes tracking him as he moves to the rack of hats. ]
I... became a newspaper reporter instead.
Sort of the same thing. I guess.
[ Isn't it? Not here, not when she covers bake sales and the fire department rescuing kittens from trees. But it could be more. Should be more.
Shouldn't it? ]
Conway. Rachel. And you are?
no subject
[ peter plucks a hat from the rack, holding it aloft with careful fingers as he does so and bringing it back over to where rachel stands, but simply holding it for now. a newspaper reporter. useful for certain, so peter tucks that bit of information away quickly, something to perhaps bring home. ]
Steel. Pierce Steel. I'm a librarian.
[ he sets the hat very gently atop her head and grinning. ]
And it is an absolute pleasure to meet you, Miss Conway. Might I add that you should wear hats more often?
no subject
[ And doesn't she know it. Ew.
She glances up at his reflection again. A librarian. Those are always useful. Her smile grows as he places the hat on her head. ]
I'll take it under advisement. It's a pleasure to meet you, too, Mr. Steel. I confess I haven't been to the library as much as I ought to have been, lately. I would've come sooner had I known the librarian was so charming.
no subject
he angles the hat just so, a very traditional brim for a very traditional coat and he smiles a little bit. ]
Flattery will get you everywhere, [ he says with a cocked brow into the reflection and a bit of a wink. ] If you're ever looking for something to help you with a story, ten times out of ten I can help you find it.
[ he knows he can say that with the oddest mote of confidence in him. he can. he could tell the moment he walked into the damn place and it was downright unsettling. ]
no subject
She also likes confidence, when people can deliver on it. And she has a strong suspicion he can. ]
You'll have to be the first person I call when there's something brewing, then. A story, or an adventure to go with it.
no subject
Do you find stories like that often around here? Seems too quiet a place for that. Though sometimes quiet in and of itself can be a bit of a story too.
b.
Oh, sure. Why not. Pierce... right?
no subject
oh that's. strange. converging ideas of "i have never met this man in my life" and "i have definitely seen him more than once a week here." the memory is an imprint in concrete while everything else is like sand pulled by the tide. he tightens his fingers around the coat and gives a quick nod. shake it off, nureyev. pierce smiles and it's sweet as he removes the coat from the hanger. ]
That's right. [ a name, he has a name-- ] Mr. Fletcher, was it? I'm... you know, lately my mind has turned into a sieve. I can't stand it. [ he sets the hanger back on the rack temporarily and holds the coat out. hop in, roman. ]
no subject
[ He shifts, turns backward to slip his arms into the sleeves. Watching Pierce the whole time is interesting because there's something going on there, so quick and subtle that he can't place it aside from knowing he saw something, and he wonders at it. ]
It's practically an epidemic right now. You probably remember my name better than I do, actually.
[ After a moment of thought, he slouches his shoulders and turns around to face the other man. Ta-daa? ]
no subject
[ it's strange, how the name trips off his tongue, how the memory feels clearer than polished glass. nureyev takes his time briefly smoothing the fabric down, making sure the shoulders sit just right before he watches him turn to face him, shoulders aptly slumped. peter murmurs, mostly to himself, something like Of the two of you, you still have the better posture, even when you're trying. ]
Tell me, have you considered P.I. chic before?
no subject
Compliments will get you everywhere, Pierce.
[ At the murmured comment, he furrows his brows, then tries even more to slouch. Like this???? ]
Not especially. Am I actually pulling this off?
no subject
[ peter takes his time, fingers sweeping down to adjust wrist cuffs, to check the lay of the collar a bit. he uses the time to process, even if it's just a moment, maybe some minutes of looking at and checking the seams, if they pull or keep, though he'll talk even as he continues to tug and fuss a little bit with lithe fingers. ]
You could scowl a bit more. Constantly. Just... lots of scowling really helps put the look together... but I think that may be a challenge for you.
no subject
[ He looks apologetic? But even that is curled with a small smile because he's kind of given up moping and scowling at this point. Although something nags at him, says he knows what that would look like anyway. He moves under Pierce's hands to give him better access where he needs it and tries to transform his face to something more befitting of a too-old-for-this investigator. It's... mildly successful!
Doesn't last long, though. ]
Well, maybe it would make for a fun photoshoot or costume party.
no subject
Mmm... so I see. I suggest you put that frown away then, it won't serve you very well. I've seldom seen a smiling detective, but perhaps you can be the first.
[ he rests his hand lightly on his hip now. ]
We're months away from Halloween, but it doesn't hurt to start planning for it now, does it?
no subject
[ He gives a look as if to express how well he knows that's unrealistic. It's more meant to be a joke but perhaps hits too close to the reality of it. He rolls his shoulders, keeping to the poor posture in case Pierce has more he wants to look at on him. ]
Or maybe one that is the bad guy. Not a bad idea, though. It'll take some stress off getting everything in order then.
no subject
[ he reaches and gives roman's shoulder's a squeeze. the gesture is something peter's fingers seem to do on their own, too familiar for him not to do. he smiles, fondly, and it doesn't feel like a ruse or a game or a false... false anything. this persona, somehow, feels old, like softened up velvet. ]
Ease up, or you'll stick that way, then what'll you do when you're doomed to a life of terrible posture? Hobbling around like a little old man.
no subject
Well, I'm already one of those things. Guess I'll put off the other for a while longer.
no subject
I suppose you are, but you'd never know it with a face like that.
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5th
a glance at his face won't help much in trying to figure out what the kid is thinking, a certain natural effortlessness to his poker face right now, but the body language is easy enough to read.]
If you don't bite then how do you eat?
[tobias has a lot of opinions on teeth, really, one of which being that they're absolutely barbaric. so the fact that peter is flashing his around so freely doesn't exactly manage to reassure him any. so many animal species out there considered revealing teeth to be a sign of aggression and from what little pieces of memory he's managed to reach out and grab with desperate, clawing talons, sometimes the same applied to humans as well.]
5th
He wheels himself over, absently wondering how much this guy has been drinking for him to think that Johnny looks bad. He looks fine. Obviously. Definitely not positively exhausted, or permanently sad, or any other number of things. None of that. Obviously.]
I don't think I've seen you around before.
[Probably...? His memory is hazier with every day that passes, but it's better to confirm than to wonder, even if he hasn't met this striking presence, which is seeming likelier by the second.]