( march intro ) WELCOME TO THE PINES!

[officialnotice]

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.

Comments

[sirnyxalot]

[Nyx quirks a grin, his mind quickly recalling one of the few memories he has. This girl didn't look at all like Crowe, but Crowe had been a scrappy little thing when they met. All street wild and teeth. In comparison Lydia just looked lost.

He could sympathize.

Tugging the coat closed around her, Nyx clasps it one-handed. The chill was already sinking through his t-shirt, but he ignores it. He's doing a damn sight better than she is right now.]

Don't see anything here to be scared of. After all, if you're crazy then I can't be too far behind.

[He gestures with his sling, having come from the hospital himself. He frowns at her bare feet.]

Come on, let's get you out of the snow.

[banshe]

[ She tilts her head at his own crazy declaration before her eyes fall on the gestured sling. Another from the hospital. Except he had clothes and probably didn't run out of there like a mad person without any sense of self identity or shaky short term memory as she had. She really is the more suspicious one in this situation.

Lydia sighs, before the motion reminds her of how cold she really is. Even with the jacket, her feet remain bare on the frozen asphalt, legs still exposed to chilly air. She shivers within his coat, fingers grasping at her covered arms. ]

Yeah, that's — that's a plan. [ She doesn't even know where to go from here. Home? What's even home to her? ]

[sirnyxalot]

[He wants to just pick her up so she didn't have to touch the ground anymore, but even if he had use of both his arms he's certain that wouldn't be an appropriate action. His only real option, after a quick look around, is to guide her through the nearest door. A bell chimes merrily above them as the toasty air inside does its best to ward off winter.

The donut shop is quaint and familiar in a way that reminds him of home even without knowing what that is. He beelines for the nearest table and pulls out a chair so Lydia can sit down.

Nyx looks up for the owner.]

Excuse me? Can we get something warm to drink?

[banshe]

[ It's a strange scent, not because there's anything wrong with it but because it almost feels foreign. She gets a strong whiff of the fried donuts as soon as the door opens, Lydia suddenly remembering what food happens to smell like. The stale scent and aura of that hospital feels so embedded in her mind that for a while it felt like there'd been nothing else.

Quietly and slowly, Lydia sits in the seat he pulls out, sinking herself further in the jacket. The heat from the kitchen makes its way out here and she can already feel it over her skin.

Her sight falls on the mysterious man, staying at him in a long silence. ] Why are you helping me?

[sirnyxalot]

[Confused at the question, he twists to look back at her. It had never occurred to him to not help her.]

Because you're not alone. Because you need it.

[The shopkeeper bustles out with two mugs, setting them on the table. They're given an odd look but Nyx doesn't pay it much mind right now.]

I wouldn't have been able to just ignore you.