pineslog | ( march intro ) WELCOME TO THE PINES!

INTRODUCTION LOG

waking up

There was an accident. That's basically the only thing you know for certain. Maybe a car wreck - metal and broken glass everywhere, and the sirens and the screaming. Or maybe there was an explosion. Maybe your bike hit a rock and you careened uncontrollably off a mountain path. You can't can't quite make out the details, not who was at fault or why. Try as you might, the chaos is all you can remember.

It's also the last thing you remember from before you wake up here.

When you open your eyes, the accident is gone. Instead, you're in a hospital bed. You're sluggish, covered in a scattering of minor injuries you only vaguely remember getting, not to mention the vaguely-healed remnants of any wounds you might've had before.

It's a shame you won't be able to tell the difference between the two. Your memories are an indiscernible fog if not absent altogether, only a few standing out in your mind with any kind of certainty.

Whether or not the room's 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. Welcome to Wayward Pines, 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. The hospital's population is quadruple the usual, and you get the impression the nurses are working themselves ragged just running damage control. You can even leave your room without much fuss - whichever doctor or nurse intercepts you gets called away almost immediately to deal with something even more pressing.

Mingle, visit your fellow patients, even poke around for a few basic answers. Or maybe, maybe just stroll right on out the front door.

heading outside

One step outside and it's perfectly clear that your hospital gown simply isn't going to cut it for long. the sidewalks and buildings covered in snow and a crisp winter wind whipping at you through the thin cloth. It's like a scene out of a holiday greeting card or a snow globe, picturesque and nearly untouchable. And yet you're here. Touching it all. Dressed in nothing but a hospital gown. You should at least think about getting some mittens if you're going to keep, you know, touching it.

Trees line the street at regular intervals, carefully manicured and coated in a thin layer of pure white snow. Cars cruise by at a safe and respectable speed. Pedestrians spare you glances, some wary and some concerned.

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 and one that you might: Wayward Pines Police Department. Whether you asked for yourself or simply overheard, you've likely caught wind by now that all of your earthly possessions now lie with the Sheriff until you see fit to claim them.

Might as well head that way, right?

items reclaimed

So you've visited the Wayward Pines Police Department and reclaimed... well. Most of your stuff, anyway, though you can't quite remember what's missing. Best to put it out of mind, as you head down the steps toward the Main Street sidewalk. At the very least, pedestrians have stopped looking at you like you're sick or crazy. (Then again, depending on what you're wearing, maybe it's gotten worse.)

The sheriff also forked over what looks like the key to a house ("A cozy place to stay while you're here in town."), plus the address that it belongs to. You could check it out, see what kind of digs they're putting you up in.

Or you could stick around Main Street and sight-see a little. Also a perfectly viable option. Hell, maybe it'll jog your memory a little. A few of the shops do feel inexplicably familiar...

( ooc notes )

Welcome to the second newbie mingle log! We apologize for the delay.

This log is meant to cover characters' first day in Wayward Pines. For the most part, only the five memories detailed in your character's application are remembered throughout the duration of this log, although the first couple of false Wayward Pines memories might begin to surface (in those who've opted to utilize this mechanic) as the day 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.

Any questions about the log or its contents can be addressed to our FAQ or the intro log's designated Plurk.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ She exhales through her nose, more audible than usual, the kind of sound that could easily have bloomed into a laugh were she not pressing her lips together to keep from laughing. Leave It to Beaver sounds about right, though, somehow, for the vibe of this place. Or, at least, the vibe they want everyone to feel.

Her mirth fades and her eyes focus on the seam between the elevator doors. ]

I was at home... I think.

[ She shakes her head. ]

I don't remember what happened. How I got hurt or wound up here. I don't remember much of anything, really.

[ It's weird. But she doesn't want to say that out loud. ]

How did you recognize your brother, if you didn't even remember your name?

Maybe you ran into your knife.

[ Something he'd compelled Jenna to believe once. ]

That, I can't answer. All I knew was my brother's name was Stefan. A few other personal things that had no bearing on waking up here. [ Vampirism. He too finds the seam of the elevator doors. ] There's no real reason for what we do and don't remember. At least, that's how it looks.

Ran into my knife...

[ She says it distracted, with a trace of amusement. It almost seems as if it might shake something loose, the thought, the mental image. But she doesn't quite grasp it, the memories of writing about criminal cases slipping through her fingers as if they'd never been there.

She sighs. ]

How lovely. I guess we can only hope more things come back with time.

[ Do they? She won't know for a while, but maybe he does. ]

Just a, pop culture reference.

[ Chicago was a famous musical, after all. But, seriously, you just hear the stories he has, Rachel. ]

If this month lines up with last, more things will. My brother and I regained the crux of our relationship about... two weeks into that month. [ But, even he half shrugs at that as the elevator doors finally open. He holds his arm over the opening, allowing her to step out first. ] After you. [ And as he steps out beside her, he shrugs off his leather coat. Being what he is, the cold barely affects him, but she's in a thin slip of a hospital gown. He holds it out for her. ] Come on, only until we get you your things. [ He's hoping her belongings include a big, heavy coat. ]

[ She turns, and he's holding out his coat, insisting she take it. Rachel draws in a breath, her lips ready to form around the usual polite words of protest... but it's cold. She reaches for it, shaking it open to shrug it on. ]

Thank you, Damon. I'm not really used to this kind of cold.

[ She stops short, her gaze drifting, but try as she might, she can't grasp at anything more than that fleeting thought. It's true, but she doesn't know why, doesn't remember being in Los Angeles, nearly never leaving California since she was born, not ever seeing this kind of winter.

She shakes her head. ]

I don't know why I said that.

So memories do start to come back. I guess I have something to look forward to. Unless they need to be prompted by recognizing someone you know, and then I may be screwed.

The cold doesn't bother me, anyway.

[ He did. He did just do that. Not that she'd recognize it. He will blame any and everything Disney or otherwise on his date nights with Elena Gilbert. How could he have possibly missed out on Frozen? Well, lucky for her, he'd finally seen it. ]

That happens here. I'd say you get used to it, but you -- learn to tolerate. Memories are tricky things in Wayward Pines.

[ He nods, walking with her toward the front sliding doors. ]

Someone, something.

[ Back home, she'd probably get it. Not a huge Disney fan but well aware enough of popular culture. Here, though, it's lost--even if her memories weren't tampered with there's a little too much going on to come up with that.

She's about to remark on memories being jogged when they step through the doors, out into the cold air. Granted, she's in a thin hospital gown with his borrowed coat over her top half, so a reaction isn't beyond the expected.

She isn't just hit by the cold, though; her intake of breath is so sudden and sharp, her body coming to a halt for a moment, it's clear this is more than wow it's cold, more the kind of being stunned when a person's never experienced something like this. ]

...Jesus.

It's not this cold all the time, right?

[ He already made his Frozen joke. He can't make it again, Rachel. ]

You wear layers. [ And because Damon is nothing if not a gentleman. And he lived through the 90's. ] I could warm up the car, come back for you.

[ It's a generous and gentlemanly offer, one she won't soon forget. And it's so, so tempting.

But though she pauses to give it serious thought, Rachel shakes her head, falling into step beside Damon. ]

Thank you. I appreciate the offer but I think the faster I get my clothes back the better I'll feel.

[ And maybe the closer she'll get to any kind of clue about this place. ]

[ He nods, keeping in pace with her until they get to the car where he quickly moves to the driver's side and unlocks it, all the locks lurching as well. If she were paying close enough attention, the speed in which he does this could be taken into question. But, it's cold, right?

When she's inside, he's already gotten the engine going. He waits for her to fasten her seat belt before they're off. ] Sheriff's station's not far. Nothing is in this town. [ Good thing she has no belongings to put into the trunk full of blood bags. (Well, they're in a case, but, still. Questions beget questions. ] I may have said that. There's a lot of repetition in this town. We locals make things crystal clear when we want to.

[ She manages not to scramble gracelessly into the car, but only just. Once inside there's a gratified little murmur and then she's settling in, rubbing her arms.

She glances up at Damon, half inquisitive. ]

Is that so? Sounds like I need to pay close attention, then, is what I'm hearing.

Yes and no. There's not much meaning to the local hubbub. [ Ish. Depends on the day.

Damon comes to a complete stop, using his blinker before turning right out of the hospital's parking lot. ]

See anyone else inside you know?

( march intro ) WELCOME TO THE PINES!

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so sorry for being so slow; i should be able to rp more regularly soon

equally slow, it was moving week for me!

my sympathies! i'm headed there myself at the end of the month. hope yours went/is going well.

went very well, thanks for asking