( 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

[paragon]

[ Great, of all the things to remember. Could be worse, though; for Steve, it's worse, though at least arguably so: he remembers Bucky not remembering him, until he did. Or, Steve thinks he did, his memory gets a little fuzzy there and he's not sure it has anything to do with whatever the hell is going on here so much as what'd been, at the time, a swollen eye and the threat of unconsciousness.

Doesn't matter that it's worse, though. All it means at the moment is that he knows enough to feel relief at Bucky's words, even if he's having trouble remembering just how deep that feeling ought to go. He huffs out a laugh in return — after the furrow in his brow relaxes from the surprise of nearly colliding with him — and it comes easily, more or less, the shut up in his expression the only thing really muting it. ]

You're one to talk, pal.

[ He may fill out his hospital gown more, but it's not by a whole lot, and at least he doesn't have a robot arm coming out of one of the sleeves like the cover of some sort of pulp magazine. Neither of them are making fashion statements here. ]

[zymasoldat]

[ Face-to-face with Steve, Bucky feels himself relax a little. This situation may be troubling, and he's not content to wait around the hospital any longer than he has to, but at least he's more at ease in the company of his friend. Bucky lifts his brow, then looks down at himself.

All right, Steve. Touche. He snorts out a short laugh. ]

Yeah, but I don't have to look at myself. Still gotta see you, though.

[ Which is unfortunate, big guy in a little gown. Bucky glances over his shoulder, then nods his head in the direction he starts moving in, figuring walking and talking beats standing around the corridor, where they might get shooed away or ushered back to their rooms. At least if they look like they have a destination, people might be more inclined to leave them alone. ]

Looks like a lot've people have been in accidents lately.

[ At least, judging by the snippets of overheard conversations, the way some of the other patients look, like they're as dazed and foggy as Bucky is. It doesn't sit right with him, so as far as he figures: the sooner they get out, the better. ]

[paragon]

Yeah. That's what they told me.

[ Steve sets his hands on his hips as he walks, looking around them and unconsciously ridiculous for it as his expression turns pensive — that heroic jaw of freedom over a hospital gown. If Bucky remembers him at all, he remembers this.

Steve glances briefly toward the floor before looking sideways at Bucky, and there's something a little more contained in it from that angle. Or maybe it's just that it's Bucky next to him. He'd come out into the hallway to find something, and he'd found Bucky. He doesn't remember much, but he knows that means something to him. There's another memory, of a plane and going to find Bucky then, too. He wonders how much of his life he's spent trying to reach this man, if these are the things that have managed to stick.

Well. He's here now. And what they've been told leaves a lot to be desired; he doesn't like it either. Which is why he stops, planting his bare feet to the linoleum underneath. ]

We ought to find whoever's in charge here. Get some answers.

[zymasoldat]

[ Oh yeah, that look. He doesn't remember any specific moment of having seen it before, and yet its familiarity is like an itch in his mind. There's an impulse, unconscious and automatic, to write these incomplete almost-memories down, see if getting it all out on a few pages will jog anything, but this isn't the time and place for starting a diary.

It's easy, at least, to fall in line at his friend's side and follow his lead. Like second nature. And when Steve stops in his tracks, Bucky follows suit, though he can't help but frown. ]

Like an administrator? I'd rather find my pants and get out of here. [ He looks at Steve. ] Not that I don't want answers, but we oughta get our heads on straight, first.

[ But maybe he's being unreasonable. He can't figure out why the setting's starting to make him antsy. ]

[paragon]

[ Steve's mouth pulls a little tight at that, though it's not accusatory. At least not in Bucky's direction. ]

That might take a while. [ He pushes a breath through his nose. ]

The longer we wait, the harder it's gonna be to get anything out of these people. [ He gestures around them, to the staff running ragged in and out of the rooms and other doors, in circles around the nurses station. ] They weren't prepared for this. And they want us to go to the sheriff, which means they don't have an answer ready for us here. So we might actually get an honest one from someone.

[ He says 'we' because he doesn't feel capable of not assuming Bucky in his plans, but— ]

You don't have to come with me.

[zymasoldat]

[ Bucky casts another look around them, at the bustling, harried staff. Steve's right: they weren't prepared for this. Which means he's also right that it's probably easier to get the truth now, rather than later, when they've all had time to get a single story straight. Though he'd rather get away from this place, he's not about to go without Steve. And if Steve wants answers... ]

I'm staying with you. [ There's not even a moment where he hesitates. Bucky claps Steve on the shoulder, a teasing smirk on his face, before he starts to move ahead in search of a supply closet or something. ] But we are getting pants.