JULY 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 a quiet, pensive look and a gentle suggestion that you avoid trying to force any memories or hazy impressions, that everything will be explained in due time, after you've had the chance to sufficiently recover. 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. Of course you have those things. And of course they already remember you being here, remember visiting you in the hospital while you were still unconscious. You've lived here much or all of your life....
As far as you can tell, anyway.
Either way, the hospital's population is busier than you'd expect in a small town, 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.
JULY 1ST - 5TH | GETTING USED TO HOME AGAIN |
However you get there, outside the birds sing a joyful song, the sky is clear, and the warm sun on your skin is a pleasant contrast to the pervading chill of the hospital now at your back. 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.
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. Or maybe that has more to do with the fact that this once idyllic, peaceful community appears to have just suffered from some sort of full scale invasion.
Once carefully manicured trees lining the streets now each have their share of scorched or shattered limbs, even one or two instances of deep dragging claw marks in the bark, for the more keen eyed individuals. The streets are mostly empty, the few cars that cruise by at a safe and respectable speed looking like they've been used as a battering ram recently, or perhaps been on the receiving end of one. One building in the periphery appears to have
exploded even, if the crater of splintered wood and foundation is any indication. What exactly happened to this place while you were in the hospital, anyway?
This isn't even the once 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 help clear up some of those conflicting memories), 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 you'll have plenty of time to try and sort through your confusion and misgivings. Maybe your friends and family in the town are just as confused and unsure as you are, maybe their familiarity is jarring, but somehow still some sort of comfort when
so much still remains unfamiliar and strange to you. Or maybe they take you aside with a knowing look in their eyes and start to explain. The memories and the destruction and the confusion.
Either way, it might be a good idea to get out and finally visit Main Street (looking just as battered as the rest of the town) if you haven't already. Maybe you even remembered that you work in one of the more familiar sounding shops, or elsewhere in town. Whether you trust those memories or not at this point, it probably wouldn't hurt to get back to work some time soon. Your co-workers might have some explanations for you as well, after all, and you have to be able to put bread on the table
somehow.
If there's one thing to be said for Wayward Pines it's the town's resilience and staunch refusal to give up on the image of a picturesque little town, and July 4th this year has the community putting it's best foot forward in this regard with its annual 4th of July picnic and fireworks spectacular.
To hear anyone (Linda) familiar with the town talk (complain), this year is a much more sedate affair than any of the years prior, but in a lot of ways today is a very good opportunity for people to reconnect with their neighbors; chat quietly at a table, share a recipe, play some catch, or argue with Jerry over the proper way too cook a burger. Jerry never listens, of course, but thankfully the whole event is a pot luck so there are plenty of other, far more edible options for those with a more... discerning palate.
The day passes pleasantly, and the night? The night brings the fireworks. A beautiful cascade of bright colors and lights in the sky. Sparklers are handed out like party favors while everyone is strongly encouraged to play safe by a long-suffering and weary looking sheriff. After all, the town has had quite enough excitement by this point, don't you think?
MOD NOTES
Welcome to our sixth 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
4th, 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.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
officialnotice) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
pineslog2017-06-30 08:52 pm
INTRODUCTION LOG
no subject
Ignis Scientia is not and has never been her cousin. That much is clear, from the complete absence of those memories now if not from her genuine recollections. But she remembers the familiarity that came with both of them thinking so, something that carried over once they learned the truth. And then he was gone, and it had left a hole, but now - ]
How's he doing? Ignis.
[ She wait for a flash of ersatz recollection, the way she'd had with Noctis. Nothing happens. No little gift to help her bluff her way through what might seem like excessive concern. Damn it. ]
no subject
immediately, he feels defensive, and he's sure it's a leftover impulse from when ignis came home, scarred and changed and learning how to navigate the world without his sight. the questions were constant, and while some people turned to noctis with genuine concern for ignis's well-being, others didn't. some sought confirmation that no, he wasn't fine, that he was a lost cause, that noct was wasting his time. noctis knows without having to pause and think that he'd never given that to them.
but this is not that; the sudden scorch of anger that means to climb its way up his throat cools. the look on her face tells noct that she sincerely wants to know if ignis is okay. and yet it bothers him immensely that he doesn't know why.
he crosses his arms, a guarded gesture that probably isn't necessary but... here it is anyway. ]
He's good. [ his voice is surprisingly light, and clearly covering something less light. his gaze slips away to something behind her shoulder. ] Diligent as always.
[ he wavers for a moment, then: ] Why?
no subject
So the reaction Noctis gets is sudden, genuine and untroubled relief. She looks away for a moment, a smile breaking over her face before she looks back at him. Why isn't a question she wants to answer fully, not while she's operating under the assumption that like every other new arrival, Noctis is coddled in the safe comfort of false memories, but it's a start. ]
Haven't seen him around in a while. I was starting to miss the sass.
[ That's honest, at least. ]
no subject
he scoffs, though not unkindly. in fact, it's a very affectionate scoff, surfacing from the thin layer of tension that's settled over them. ]
He's got lots to go around. [ there may be a hint of incredulity in the words at just how much sass ignis is capable of dishing out, but in truth, noct is entirely used to it. and so is aranea, it seems, even if she's holding something else about this back. were they school friends? had she served when he had? trying to dredge up memories with purpose proves frustrating at best and hopeless at worst. ]
He's at Go Ask Alice if you need him. [ for sass or otherwise, he supposes. noct himself will be heading that way himself before long, a concept that feels blissfully familiar, normal. ]
no subject
Shit. She's getting soft. ]
Don't tell me he's actually taking some time off?
[ She's never been in Go Ask Alice herself, but she knows it by sight. It's always struck her as a pretty chill place. ]
no subject
he huffs a laugh this time and shakes his head. ]
It's Ignis. [ really, does he have to say more? he'd told noctis that taking time off while readjusting to life in general was the best course of action, but he'd turned around and headed back to work like he somehow missed the complete hypocrisy of the situation. of course, he hadn't missed it. he'd probably just made the executive decision to ignore it. ] He's probably over there baking right now.
[ which, despite noct's near ceaseless worrying about ignis's pushing himself so soon after the accident, is a lovely thought. ]