( 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

[immoderation]

[ Stefan stares at it a moment before taking it. It had somehow never occurred to him to search the hospital for such an item. But it makes sense, doesn't it? An ideal solution for a Ripper. A Ripper like him. ]

Thanks. [ His eyes dart around and he spots the restroom in the corner of the lobby. ] I'll be right back. [ Nobody seems to be paying them any amount of attention but it's probably best if he doesn't tear into a blood bag while there's still the possibility that somebody could be watching. ]

[unforgivably]

I'll hold down the well-lit fort. [ and a smile as he eyes the stream of light keeping them from their ultimate goal. their clothes? my how the mighty have fallen. he looks back at him ] Let me know if you need help with that.

[immoderation]

[ The thing about control is... It's mindfulness. But how do you manage control when you've all but lost your mind? The blood in the bag was supposed to take away the craving that's been building in him these last few hours, not enhance it 10-fold. It's a long time before Stefan exists that bathroom again, water running to drown out the beating hearts of everybody else in the lobby, hands gripping the porcelain edges of the sink so tightly that it might crack. But eventually he manages to regain some semblance of his composure. Just in time, it seems, as a glance out the window makes it seem like they just might be able to finally leave. ] Sorry for making you wait. Uh, stomach issues. [ Said for the benefit of anyone who might be listening. He awkwardly smooths down the front of his gown. ] You ready to go, brother? [ That endearment rolls too easily off of his tongue. ]

[unforgivably]

Shy, shy bladder. [ What's IBS anyway. ] Always. After you. [ Because, self preservation, really. He falls back into a rhythm with Stefan he knows matches up. This is how things work. This is how things are. Wary, but ready to leave the hospital, he follows his brother out, the last remaining vestiges of the sun having hidden behind one of the buildings. ]

Recognize anything?

[immoderation]

[ Stefan's vision is quite acute but he squints into the distance as if willing something familiar to materialize there on the horizon. ]

Not a damn thing.

[unforgivably]

I don't like this. I haven't liked it all day, but I'm saying it. I don't like it.

[ He crosses his arms, peering right and left. ] It can't be that big of a town.

[immoderation]

No. [ It's said in agreement. ] It doesn't look like it would be. [ It looks very... old-timey, at a glance. ] At least between us we know our full names. If we really live here then maybe this Sheriff can help by telling us where we've actually been living. [ Otherwise, what -- they're supposed to sleep on the streets? Loiter in some dark, sunless alley all day? ]

[unforgivably]

After he explains why he did a disappearing act on everyone's things. Never not going to be wrong. [ He sighs as they start in a direction. ] I don't know if this helps, but I think I know the when - what year it is, or, years. We have nine to choose from.

[immoderation]

[ He glances over at Damon as they stroll, quite leisurely for all appearances, down the sidewalk together. ]

What year it is... [ He repeats, trailing off into contemplative silence as it occurs to him that he doesn't even know such a basic fact as that. ]

[unforgivably]

Somewhere in the 90's. Give or take an early 2000's nostalgia bomb. Not late 80's. And with anachronistic technology to boot. [ So. Hey, there's that. ] Not that I know how I know this. Oh, but a fun fact, for your hearing pleasure. I spent a few months in 1994. So, maybe this is just that. And now you're here. Which, is not ideal, but it's better than you not being here.

[immoderation]

[ Damon is babbling a bit and not entirely making sense (a few months in 1994???). Which probably should be annoying. But Stefan inexplicably feels a certain fondness for him in that moment. Like his memories might not all be there but this -- whatever it is, brotherly camaraderie, is just so natural that it doesn't really need an explanation. ]

We're just lucky that we remembered each other, I guess. [ There it finally is. The Sheriff's office. Right across the street from them. ]

Hey, do you think a police station counts as a dwelling? [ Cops sleep there right? Or is that just firemen? ]

[unforgivably]

I'm not following. [ Some cops take naps? ] You mean, do people live at the police station. [ Now who's the brother not making sense? ]

[immoderation]

Yes. [ He shoots him a quick, sideways glance. Trying to assess just how blunt he needs to be here. ] That's what I'm asking.

[unforgivably]

I don't know Stefan, maybe if they don't have lives or apartments of their own. What are you getting at?

[immoderation]

[ Stefan keeps his voice relatively low. ]

We have to be invited inside. Not everywhere. [ His nose wrinkles slightly. ] At least, I don't think. But places where people dwell, for sure.

[unforgivably]

We -- [ even lower. ] vampires. [ He exhales, snuffing out a breath. ] It seems I've reached the expanse of my memory. I don't - think the sheriff's station counts. Dwellings are owned, right? Sheriff stations are property of the area. Sometimes the state. I hate this picking and choosing of information I get to do.

[immoderation]

You're probably right. Still, I'm glad I brought it up if you didn't already know. Is there anything else you can think of that we should compare notes on?

[unforgivably]

Hm. Blood bags are best if I don't take from the source, but if we do, we compel them to forget. And, we need our rings [ he lifts his empty left hand up. ] to walk in sunlight. With god. [ That gesture follows, what, they're... in public. ] And that's about it. Other than a formal invitation, what else do you know?

[immoderation]

It's not a good idea for me to... take from the source. I'm... A Ripper. [ While the exact terminology will probably be lost on Damon, the word is quite an evocative one -- one he can probably extrapolate the meaning of well enough. ]

What do you mean, "compel"?

[unforgivably]

Not something that I remember, but it sounds bad, so sticking to blood bags for you. [ Good to ... know. ]

Look into a person's eyes, make them do something. Or believe it. But, it's about eye contact.

[immoderation]

[ The light changes and they're finally able to cross the street. (Jaywalking is a bottom-of-the-barrel offense but it's probably not the best idea to break the law in front of the Sheriff's station). ]

After you. [ He holds the door open for Damon then follows him inside. ]

[unforgivably]

[ Stepping inside, giving the sheriff station a look-around. ] Looks pretty nondescript.

[immoderation]

[ It also looks pretty non-occupied, which is strange. ] Hello? [ Stefan is sure to raise his voice loud enough to be heard. ] Can we get a little help, here?

[unforgivably]

[ at first, a nice receptionist, nondescript who points to the sign and cameras a few times, directs them to the sheriff who joins them. all smiles, idle but polite threats and a welcome, turned into two boxes of belongings. at the nearby bench (because what is vampire modesty), damon realizes -- ] My ring isn't in here.

[immoderation]

[ Stefan had nearly sighed with relief when he slid his on but at Damon's statement he glances up rather sharply. He won't insult his brother by suggesting he look again. ] Ask them to check in the back. Maybe they put it in somebody else's box by accident.

[ But no. The Sheriff spends more than a few minutes looking, or at least pretends to, but comes up empty-handed. He does have some keys for them though. A cozy place to stay while you're here in town. ]