( february 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

Outside, the birds sing a joyful song, and though the air is awfully crisp to be wandering around in your hospital gown, the sky's as sunny as you've ever seen it. It's bright enough to make you squint for a moment before you feast your eyes on the quaint little town of Wayward Pines, though that might be in part because of the glare off the scattered patches of snow along the sides of the street.

Trees line the street at regular intervals, carefully manicured. 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 first newbie mingle log! We apologize for the minor 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

[greyaria]

In the absence of a better idea, yep!

[She's not getting far in too-large slipper socks, after all, and it feels wrong to be wandering around in just scrubs, in a way that's somehow more than the outfit feeling out of place outside a hospital.]

Seems like you need the trip a little more than I do.

[No one has ever fit in a hospital gown properly. No one.]

[flowerida]

[ Butch stops for a moment and peers down at his current getup before shrugging blithely. ]

I've had worse.

[ Another stop. ]

I think.

[ He waves it off and starts walking. The nearly subzero temperature doesn't seem to particularly bother him, either way. ]

So, what manner of accident did you have?

[greyaria]

I...really can't remember.

[She sounds dubious. Memory loss like this can occur without head trauma, but it's rare, far too rare to explain the amnesiac convention that seems to be happening in little Wayward Pines.

Unless, of course, they're being lied to...because certain drugs could do this, and they're not the friendly kind of drugs that kill bacteria or pain.]

There was a lot of screaming.

["She sounds haunted" is what should go here, but doesn't, because Emily seems to think a lot of screaming is perfectly normal, and is as chipper as you please about it.]

[flowerida]

Screaming, huh?

[ Butch stretches out his arms, twining his fingers together above his head, inhaling slowly as he does so. He squints against the glimpses of sunlight that slipped through between his knuckles, making a low noise of contemplation.

The sunlight is strange somehow. The sunlight, the air, something not quite right that he can't place his finger on. ]

I'm betting something involving a roller coaster ride, [ he says, dropping his arms down and starting on a triceps stretch. ] Always lots of screaming there!

[greyaria]

If I was on a roller coaster malfunctioning badly enough to cause this, I'd like a word with the maintenance crew!

[As if Emily wouldn't be the kind of Roller Coaster Tycoon player who builds a death-coaster that launches people into her competitors' parks to die.

She resumes her walk to the police station, assuming Butch will follow. Not her problem if he doesn't!]

[flowerida]

Maybe it's an intentional side-effect of the roller coaster. A ride so amazing we all had a moment of glorious transcendence and completely forgot ourselves.

[ Quack conspiracy theory: the roller coaster edition. ]

I mean, I've counted enough people to fill one ride. [ Butch pauses here, does a mental recount and then amends, ] A big ride.

[ When she starts walking, he follows easily enough. She's getting a travel companion at least some of the way! ]

You know, I could do with some food after all that hospital time. You wanna hit up a place? Assuming either of us remembers their banking details by then anyways...