( 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

[paragon]

Steve's huff is— amused and complicated and crystallizes slightly in the air in front of his mouth. "Not a cop," he confirms, taking her hand. His grip is solid and warm, in spite of the fact that he's not wearing gloves or, as of a minute ago, a jacket with pockets. "Just a concerned citizen. Steve."

Her name seems familiar to him. Kenzi. It makes him think of Bucky for some reason he can't quite place, but he's learned to turn these things over and let them coalesce in the back of his mind — he'd never get anything else done otherwise.

"You're gonna have to give 'em a name at the station." He lets her hand go and nods in the right direction. He's teasing her, a little, but not insincere. "If it's Kenzi there too, then at least you'll have your own stuff."

[onteamdyson]

Concerned citizen, right, that's just code for troublemaker. Kenzi likes this guy already! With his gentlemanly demeanor and massive, warm hands. Her fingers are like icicles compared to him, but her end of the handshake is firm and her smile brightens a little.

"That's some good advice from a concerned citizen. Shouldn't the concern be a little more, I don't know, urgent? Manic? Widespread to the point of panic considering amnesia seems to be common here?" And that's only from what she's gathered at the hospital. The plot thickens.

"Everyone just seems to be a little too chill here. It's... kinda freaking me out." The way most other citizens don't seemed to be concerned at all. The way they smile and it's hollow and weird and everyone is just way the fuck too happy? Also the signs. She thought it was a joke at first, maybe some bored teens, but even the teens are lacking a particular attitude and sass.

[paragon]

"That's smart. Come on." He lets go of her hand, still holding onto his through all of that. The extrication is maybe a little more awkward than he'd like, but he covers for it by also stepping off the curb to cross the street in the direction of the station. The two movements aren't unrelated — if her fingers were that cold, her toes must be in danger of frostbite. "If you came from the hospital you went too far."

He leads her down Main Street; there are more people around, but it means a greater chance their conversation won't actually be overheard. He keeps his head down, but that's mostly because he's momentarily preoccupied with his thoughts about what she'd just told him. "There are more people at the hospital," he says, not really a question, just understanding. He lifts his head on a sigh, though it's more in the movement of his chest than sound. "This isn't the first time it's happened." He glances at her. "But neither of us are panicking, so you tell me. That's not the same as calm."

The truth is that it rankles a bit, though he knows she didn't mean it as an accusation, and it's not her fault he's frustrated that a month has gone by without much to show for it. He knows he's not doing enough, that it's a choice he made, and he's not sure how much longer he can keep that up for the sake of staying under the radar.

[onteamdyson]

Damn right it's smart. She's super smart! Probably. She's not sure. She has a hunch, though, because smart people tend to be super unhappy, judgmental, and paranoid compared to stupid people who are typically content because they don't realize anything is wrong.

Kenzi follows behind stiffly, definitely feeling the cold in her toes but trying to ignore it. Movement will help. Seems like Steve is pretty smart, too. He's certainly aware of more shit than the smiling, nervous people milling about that aren't willing to level with her. He also seems frustrated, which is understandable. Kenzi's frustrated with herself for not being able to remember, for still feeling out of it and not able to process this information fast enough to come up with a plan.

"Panic's not gonna solve anything." That makes sense. "So either not enough people know, which... would mean everyone here is an idiot, or they know, but they're just..." Just what, exactly? In denial? Accepting it? Not saying anything because there's nothing they can do about it? That's where she's stuck.

"Is someone doing this on purpose?" Some kind of weird science fiasco? A research and development team gone wrong? Or maybe there really was an accident. Maybe the accident is going to keep happening, over and over, until they get it right. Whoever they are-- Kenzi lifts a hand to her head as they walk, the thudding in her temples getting worse the more she tries to puzzle this shit out.

[paragon]

"I don't know," he answers her truthfully. "Either way, they don't want us talkin' about it, and I got a problem with that. I know I'm not the only one, but—" Well, he's not a man who cuts himself off in mid-sentence often, but anything he could summon himself to say after that would only sound like an excuse to his own ears, so he's not about to try selling it to Kenzi. He glances at her at her movement, then towards the storefronts to his left, pausing in front of one after a few more steps before turning to face her.

"If you wanna get inside where it's warmer I can grab your stuff from the station, meet you back here." He indicates the door with a tilt of his chin, but his expression doesn't seem to hold any expectation either way. Just giving her an opportunity not to freeze out here, and there's a chance she was knocked on the head at some point, considering the variety of injuries the last batch of people came out with. He'd had plenty of questions at the station himself, and he won't tell her she can't ask them, but she doesn't seem too keen on the police anyway.