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
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I'm gonna hold you to that, just so you know. And... ditto. Seriously.
[Jeff is one of like, four people that can make her smile right now. Conveniently, Matt is another. She practically lights up when he makes his way over, looking him over because that is a very bright jacket. He rocks pastels with zero fear or irony, it's kind of impressive. So is that blue lipstick, but wow, looking at his lips is kind of weird? Don't make it weird.]
Hey! [She hugs him with one arm, careful not to spill her beer on him or anything. Apparently she's coming to terms with the fact that people will see them in public together and maybe he's not as embarrassing as her bullshit memories have led her to believe. Maybe. Possibly. She's willing to give him a chance, at least.] Jeff, this is Matt. Matt, Jeff. You're both tall, snarky, and occasionally emo, you guys should get along just fine.
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Before they can commence judging everyone else at the grand opening, a man approaches, his British...ness... immediately giving him away as the ex. Matt? Kenzi's Eliot, judging by the way she positively lights up at his arrival.
Still, Matt needs to pass his inspection... The lipstick? He approves. Dark, eye catching, speaks to a certain confidence, right? Certainly a lack of insecure posturing, since those sorts of men tend to shy away from all things that might be judged feminine. That earns Matt some points. The jacket, too. Not a color Jefferson would wear, but it works for him.
Hmmm...
Oh, who's he kidding? He was going to give Matt his seal of approval the moment Kenzi lit up. She hasn't smiled like that since Brock, and... really, she didn't even smile like that with her former fake husband. ]
Matt. [ Look, Jefferson will even smile and offer his hand! ] I've heard a lot about you.
[ A LOT. He tries not to say that in a way that hints that he's been privy to the details of their fake past sex life, but... he probably doesn't succeed. It's the kind of innuendo that has a life of its own!
But if he makes Kenzi happy, then his lack of... stamina.... is far from the worst thing in the world. ]
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As Jefferson inspects him, Matt inspects in return. This is Kenzi's friend. The other person she trusts. Is he worth trusting? Is he one of the special agents she knows? Does he have some kind of ulterior motive in play?
It's easy for Matt to get lost in his thoughts. It's only when he hears his name that he snaps out of it to stare at the offered hand. Right! Social norms. He takes Jefferson's hand and shakes it with a smile.] I could say the same about you.
[If Kenzi trusts him, so can he. For now. He looks... He looks as fashionable as he's been told, if nothing else. He can appreciate that!
He can also appreciate that everyone else has a drink and he doesn't. He's done weighing it out and quietly asks the bartender for a sprite and vodka. Nothing big! But hopefully enough that it'll be... Impressive? He's not sure.]
How do you two know each other, again?
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It's kind of nerve wracking, though. Having these two meet is kinda major. What if they don't like each other? What if Matt turns out to be dangerous-- not likely. But STILL! What if he's a threat to Jefferson? Also not likely. She can't get her head out of that dark place it's been in since her whole fake-world fell apart. She doesn't want to drag Matt down with her. Jeff and Eliot have each other to keep themselves aloft.... and day drinking. There's a lot of that.
Deep breaths, Kenzi. What's the worst that could happen?]
Hahaaa... It's not like I talk about you guys all the time or anything. [Just gonna take a DEEP drink from her beer and then awkwardly look at Jeff mid-sip.]
Um... through work? I'm like... his best customer at the tea shop. Not best as in drops mad stacks of cash, best as in the best person that goes there basically. Also we're ... roomies.
[The awkwardness vanishes from her face as she leans into Jefferson a little. Roomies doesn't quite cover it, but it's the easiest explanation.]
Also, Sprite and vodka? Interesting choice. [JUDGEMENTAL BEER SWIG. They have so much to teach him about drinking.]
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We... [ He nods at Kenzi. Yeah, she summed it up just fine. ] She's a regular. And I let her practice on my nails. At... our house... with my... [ Oops, he still has no idea how to define Eliot. ] Eliot.
[ 'My Eliot.' SMOOTH.
...ANYWAY. He nudges Kenzi with his elbow. ]
It's a fine choice. [ Be nice to your goth punk not-emo friend, Kenzi. ]
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Roommates? No kidding. [He sounds a little jealous, there. Not of either of them in particular, but of the situation.] I just got a kid. Would be nice to have a sensible house mate.
[Hey, good timing for his drink! Which he tries to take a long drink from, but it's been a while since he's drank anything, and he generally doesn't do anything as hard as vodka. Even if the taste's masked by the soda, the way it warms his gut isn't, and his head swims for just a second. It's nice.] You know, somehow I haven't been. Maybe because I've had a supplier. [He grins at Kenzi.] Now that I know you've got a lack of good customers, I'll have to make sure to stop by.
[He's already taking a liking to Jefferson. The fact that he stands up for him against Kenzi's teasing definitely helps.]
If you two live together... Do you have any dirt on her? I bet she snores.
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[All the drinking she's done so far helps her to be slightly oblivious to the jealousy in Matt's voice. Keeps things light and ...jovial.] I wouldn't say sensible.
[Neither her nor Jefferson are very sensible. Hell, not even Eliot is all that sensible. Together they maybe have some semblance of common sense? But even then it's dicey.
Kenzi returns the grin, appreciating the tact in not outright saying she's brought him a tea literally every time she's gone to visit him after work. Makes her look less invested.
But that grin turns to a GLARE when Matt asks Jefferson for dirt, quickly lashing out to smack Matt lightly on the arm.]
There is no dirt! I'm as clean as ... a whistle. If those things are clean. I know it's an expression but I'm really not clear on the details or accuracy of the comparison.
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As for DIRT. Jefferson laughs, ducking his head. ]
You are not clean. [ Just pointing that out to Kenzi. To Matt: ] She cries during movies about plucky children's hockey teams.
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Anything's better than a literal child. Matt takes a few more sips as Kenzi plays the denial game, a grin wide on his lips that explodes into stupid laughter when she swats his arm.] Hey! No hitting!
[And then Jefferson comes out with it. Oooh, this is juicy - Except, it just leaves Matt looking a little confused.] While I prefer the cartoon, you can't tell me you didn't feel things when you watched that movie.
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Yeah, see? Matt felt things. People feel things during that movie-- wait, what.]
You prefer the cartoon-- No one prefers the cartoon. The Ducks were actual ducks with weird, human-sized bodies!
[She's laughing, though. He's ridiculous. This situation is ridiculous. She's basically been crying for days and now she's here at a social event laughing with two people that shouldn't be allowed to gang up on her.]
Bad cartoon choices aside, do you approve, Jeff? Can we let him in our friendship bubble? Will you trust him with the secrets of the Ya-Ya sisterhood?