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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"Don't go blaming driving instructors, now. I crashed an aircraft. Friend of mine crashed at the same time. Two different accidents. I wouldn't mind getting my hands on those details we don't have."
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"Doesn't preclude the instructors. I mean, from what I remember, mine must have been terrible." In a past life, one now largely beyond Dirk's recall, his driving would've been classifiable as more than simply reckless. An accident, judging by what he remembers of the accident itself, would have been fairly inevitable. What he can't remember is why he'd have been driving that way in the first place.
Maybe it matters, maybe it doesn't. Either way, he's sort of enjoying the feeling that he's being let in on something, like Aranea considers him worth confiding in, even though they've just met. "Either way, very curious. Probably. D'you know, it's actually quite hard to tell without a frame of reference. For all I know, this sort of thing happens all the time everywhere, and I'm only feeling right now that it doesn't."
no subject
"There's a lot that happens all the time around here that doesn't happen too much anywhere else. Small town quirks, I guess. Do you dance?"
Aranea does not dance, generally speaking, but it's as good an excuse as she can come up with to try and get him closer to the noise of the band. Curiosity should be rewarded, after all.
no subject
Either way, the feelings, hunches, intuitions, whatever one wishes to call them, aren't helping him at the moment. He's sort of floundering without them -- caught between terrified at the prospect and oddly gratified that anyone's asking, though why that should be he's not entirely certain. Drink tips his hand in favour of boldness.
"I can certainly try, I suppose. The worst I could hurt is my dignity, and I get the feeling I'm not particularly attached to it in the first place." He adjusts his jacket slightly in illustration. Case in point. Not that it isn't a great jacket -- it is, and he loves it, but that's just further proof, surely.
no subject
The slap on the back she gives him is probably a little too matey for someone she's known for all of three minutes, but based on the violent hue of his drink she's prepared to assume he won't mind. Over on the dancefloor the band is just as loud as she'd hoped. What she hadn't counted on is just how much her current plan to commit a felony interferes with her ability to dance in a way that looks anything like she actually wants to be dancing. Of course, it could always work in her favor. What could be less suspicious than a white person dancing awkwardly in a small town?
no subject
This doesn't, however, mean he's any good at this. Awkward, it seems, will be the mode du jour.
"I'm beginning to think I didn't do this very often," he shouts over the band as best he can. It's a true statement, and yet he's quite clearly enjoying himself thoroughly, given the wide smile he's aiming in Aranea's direction.
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"You make up for it with enthusiasm." The fact that she's not actually trying to drag him with the comment is a surprise even to herself. More importantly, the verve he's putting into the dancing is something she can just about spin into a sign that he's persistent. Resilient, even. Or maybe she just doesn't want to feel like a huge asshole.
"So what do you remember?"
no subject
"I find enthusiasm makes up for quite a lot of things. I think. Maybe that's something I remember?" He pauses around a particularly enthusiastic bit of music, which drowns out both the thought of speech and any attempt to execute it.
"Words, too. 'Everything is connected'. No idea what that means, beyond that it's obviously true. I remember... a horse? Puffles the horse. Very distinct impression that there's an excellent story there only I can't rightly recall how it goes." He works an apologetic shrug into his... dancing, and shakes his head.
"Not much else, I'm afraid. All a bit muddled."