( 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

[bulletfool]

[ If nothing else, Izumi's got eyes and ears sharp enough to notice the shift and that particular wording, respectively. The change in the man's face fuels his personable response. ]

I did, and there really wasn't anything. The next time I have the money, I'm definitely buying a coat first! Did you get yours in town?

[ouzel]

That's surprising, [ Cassian says, but he gives a glance to the room around them. ] Maybe you haven't been here for long.

[ Did he get his in town? Cassian shrugs, then shakes his head. ]

I don't know. I haven't seen anyone else with one like it.

[bulletfool]

It'd be nice if I could find something as warm as that. You're probably right, though—I don't think I've lived here very long.

[ And because it's nagging him, he turns his attention back to the original topic at hand. So far in their little exchange, there's been an awful lot of presumptions. ]

You said that you don't know where you got your coat . . . Was it a gift?

[ouzel]

I don't think so. [ He doesn't imagine he's been on the receiving end of a lot of gifts, considering...what?

He's not sure. But the idea of gifts, of someone just giving him something for the sake of giving it? Makes his shoulders itch.

Instead of explaining that Cassian just raises his eyebrows and tilts his head. ]

You don't think you've lived here very long?

[bulletfool]

[ Well, isn't that curious. And it seems that the man is aware of the oddity in their brief conversation, which focuses their conversation considerably and lowers Izumi's volume to an acceptable indoor voice. No point in loudly advertising that he was probably hit in the head. ]

It's hard to say . . . I was in an accident, so my memories are kind of fuzzy. Do you know anything about it?

[ouzel]

I know a lot of people were in the hospital. I know a lot of people went to the Sheriff's office, presumably because we were all in accidents. But I also know there are weird signs in the windows, and everyone's on edge like they're being watched.

[ So. Your turn, Izumi. ]

[bulletfool]

Almost feels creepy, doesn't it?

[ He smiles—it's a casual expression, neither sardonic nor mirthful. ]

That's mostly what I know, too. Do you think we'll really remember everything soon? After all, stuff like this is complicated.

[ouzel]

"Almost".

[ Can you hear the air quotes, because Cassian isn't going to do the gesture. ]

Brain trauma is complicated, that's for certain. [ Are they suffering from brain trauma? Cassian finds the whole thing incredibly suspect. ]

[bulletfool]

[ The air quotes are so palpable that Izumi swears that he felt a chill just now. ]

I wonder if that's all it is.

[ A flippant comment that borders on dangerous territory for a public conversation. Izumi pulls back with a chuckle. ]

Sorry, that's getting off-topic. Like I was saying, your coat looks super warm! I'll have to look around for others like it. Thank you for speaking with me.