( 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

[comesfrompain]

[After trying, and failing, to find a phone, Rumlow doesn't even care when someone stops him in the hall. Enough of the staff have been doing so, but only for a few seconds. This woman's different though. She's in civvies and he wonders if that means she's not staff. She's got a few scars on her face, and he tries not to stare while figuring out what they might be from.

His brows furrow at her question, the first one he's been asked that seems actually helpful. He glances down the hall in the opposite direction, making sure none of the hospital staff were heading them off to chide Rumlow for being out of his room.]

A phone. You seen one around?

[Since his, along with all his clothes, is missing.]

[oncekind]

[She tries not to be self-conscious about her scars. She doesn't remember getting them just yet, which is strange. One would think she'd remember something this traumatic. The scars are smooth though, surgical even.]

There are no public phones. The nurse's office has one but I doubt they'll let you use it. Why do you need one?

[comesfrompain]

[So much for that venture, Rumlow thinks. There's gotta be one in town, at least. He just needs to find his clothes, which weren't in his room. Maybe they've got lockers then, or something where they keep patients' belongings. He wets his lips and looks the woman in the eyes.]

I need to call home.

[Not entirely the truth, but it ain't a lie either. Maybe SHIELD shipped him out here for a reason, but whatever it is, he doesn't remember at all. Just the vague notion that he'd been searching for something or someone and maybe that's something to do with it, but what he wants is confirmation. Without any of his comm equipment, a phone's the next best thing.]

[oncekind]

[She studies him for a moment then nods in understanding. It's not strange to want to call home.]

You'll want to go to the sheriff's office. He has all your belongings and the key to your home. You can try calling from there if you remember the number.

[Her expression indicates she knows exactly how strange this sounds.]

[comesfrompain]

[Why the Hell would the Sheriff have his belongings, Rumlow wonders. His gun, sure all right maybe. But his clothes? The part about the key almost gets missed in his confusion, but once he hears it his eyes narrow. A house?

Maybe a safe house, he considers.]

The Sheriff, hunh? They got all my stuff?

[He wants to clarify, so he doesn't walk out into the snow pretty much naked without a reason. He's not too keen on getting frostbite on his nuts.]

[oncekind]

Yes. They won't be able to tell you much more but you should find your clothes there.

[There's a look in her eyes that seems to indicate she finds this whole ordeal rather ridiculous herself.]

I can give you directions if you like.

[comesfrompain]

Right. [Rumlow definitely doesn't like the idea of some unknown group of law enforcement looking through his things -- much less having possession of them. He hopes they won't take anything, especially if it's in his wallet. He gives the woman a nod of gratitude.] Yeah, sure.

Not like I know much about this place.

[Even if there's a niggling feeling that he should.]

[oncekind]

None of us do. [it's a passing remark, a casual throwaway]

It's a bit of a trek. You might want to borrow the scrubs. [She'll then proceed to give him directions to the station. At least the lay of the land is easy to understand]

[comesfrompain]

[None of us. Well if that doesn't sound incredibly suspicious. Rumlow notes that with a heavy set of mental asterisks.]

Anywhere's a bit of a trek when there's snow and you got no pants, but thanks. I'll see if I can snag a pair.

[If there even are any just lying around. Rumlow guesses he'll have to try and search out a locker room instead. That's the only place he can think of, unless they've got onsite laundry.]

[oncekind]

[She doesn't really speak for everyone but she doubts there's someone out there who's been able to uncover a great secret within a month.]

The lockers are a good place to look. [she suggests, looking in the general direction of a hallway. She figures he's smart enough to look]

Let me know if there's anything else I can do. I know this isn't much. This town doesn't carry a lot of answers.

[comesfrompain]

Yeah, I'm starting to get that impression. Appreciate the offer. Guess I'll see you around, miss --

[Rumlow doesn't know her name and isn't sure if he ought to leave it off at that or ask, but he guesses the way he trails off is prompting enough. She's welcome to tell him if she wants, but he figures she won't be hard to miss. Real distinct looking woman, to be sure.

Helpful too. So maybe she'll be able to lend a hand later, once Rumlow's actually you know. Dressed.]

[oncekind]

Jiaying. [she says simply.]

Good luck.

[And she does sound like she means it]

[comesfrompain]

[Given the naming conventions of many East Asian languages, Rumlow has to wonder if that's her first or last name. Maybe it's her first. Figures he ought to offer the same, even if she hasn't asked.]

Brock, and thanks. Got a feeling I'm gonna need it in the coming days.

[Given the memory loss, relocation and the fact that he doesn't even have clothes yet sets the tone pretty well. Rumlow wonders if he's going to be facing an uphill struggle the rest of the way. Nothing he doesn't think he can't handle, but still.]

[oncekind]

[she nods.]

If you ever find a need, feel free to stop by my office. I counsel after school hours and it can be as casual as a chat to catch up.

[Never hurts to promote her business a bit more either]

[comesfrompain]

[A counselor, hunh? Rumlow doesn't plan on sticking around long enough for that. Nor would he probably use her services, what with having to keep secrets for SHIELD. He guesses it's nice to know. In case someone else is freaking out.]

Thanks. Good the kids have someone to talk to.

[Since he figures she's a school counselor, given the mention of the hours.]

[oncekind]

I try. But people have to come to me. [And that doesn't always happen.]

Anyway, don't let me keep you.

[comesfrompain]

[Rumlow nods again, looking her over once more to keep her in mind. Important, he figures, with as shady a memory as he has now. Even if he might not take her up on the offer, it's still good to start building up a mental list of the people he runs into. Maybe for a debriefing, maybe just for him. Either way.]

Yeah. Take care.

[He turns away, and decides to shift his search towards a set of scrubs to venture outside.]