pineslog | (april intro) WELCOME TO WAYWARD PINES!

(april intro) WELCOME TO WAYWARD PINES!

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 looking a bit tired and worn at the edges, like a blurred photograph. They take your vitals and ask your name and anything else you might remember with an air of exhausted distraction about them, and maybe even eye your bed with a look of vacant yearning for a moment before managing to rouse themselves again. 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... though it might be awhile. 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.

There was an outbreak last week after all, some of the more chatty staff might be persuaded to share. Oh, nothing to worry about now, it's all been taken care of, but there's always so many details to take care of after a scare like that and, look, you should probably come straight back to the hospital if you start feeling sick, okay? Just in case. But honestly, you have nothing to worry about.

Mingle, visit your fellow patients, worry a bit anyway, 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. A crisp winter wind whips at you through the thin cloth and all around your is the slowly melting evidence of an earlier snow storm, clumps of dirty snow along the edges of buildings and sidewalks, sad misshapen snowmen sliding into slush across a few front lawns. You're probably standing in a small puddle right now, just by a simple law of averages. Geez that water's cold.

Trees line the street at regular intervals, carefully manicured and lightly dusted in 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, and asking the sheriff only gets you a harried look and a form to fill out if you have any concerns. 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."), and a general direction to start looking for the house that key belongs to, the sheriff pulled away to deal with some other pressing issue before he could give you more detailed instructions. You could check it out, see what kind of digs they're putting you up in. If you can even find it, that is.

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...

MOD NOTES

Welcome to the third newbie mingle log!

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.

PLEASE INCLUDE IN SUBJECT LINE: Character Name, location, and Open or Closed, to help keep things a bit more organized.

If you have any questions regarding this intro log, feel free to ask them on the FAQ or the relevant plurk.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ He is like her, then. She's actually a little disappointed by that, saddened that there seemed to be so many of them suffering from the same problem. But at the same time-- ]

I'm sorry to hear that, but I have to admit, I'm a little bit glad it's not just me.

[ And she feels awful for that admission, with as honest as it truly was. She's completely alone in this place, but at least she has this much to connect her to others here. It's better than nothing, right? ]

I woke up at the hospital a little while ago and they said I'd had an accident, but I can't remember much about it, or this place.

[ Another one! There's a part of him starting to worry that someone (he, his guilt insists) may have been responsible for some sort of multi-vehicle pile up, but there's another part, a larger and more logical part, that's starting to wonder why so many people all seem to have had an accident and now all of them can't remember things. There's something here... but it's not coming through, much to his frustration. ]

Yeah. I... I was told the same.

Are you all right otherwise?

[ It does seem strange that there would be so many of them. If it was a large-scale accident, then of course a number of them would have ended up in the hospital, but for all of them to have memory problems? That seems a bit fishy, but for the life of her she can't even begin to contemplate the possibilities. ]

I've got a headache and some bruises, but nothing too serious. What about you? [She pauses for a moment, then adds with a soft smile] My name's Marie, by the way.

Randel.

[ He very carefully offers his hand to her for a shake or maybe just a hand squeeze. This is all very odd, after all. And it doesn't look like she has anyone she knows around either. If that's the case, well... he might have to look out for her. Something about all this, especially those sighs, strikes him as very strange. Not at all 'home-like'. For some reason, he's not worried about what might happen to him but he's suddenly, painfully worried about what might happen to her. ]

And I'm fine.

[ He's got bandages under those clothes in a few spots and he'd woken up rather disturbingly one night from nightmares he couldn't remember to find a blood stain in the form of a hand on his pillow, clearly transferred from his cheek. 'Stress bleeding' he'd been told, though who knows what that is, really.

But he's fine. ]

Thank you for asking.

It's a pleasure to meet you, Randel.

[ And it really is. He has a kindness about him, the feeling of being gentle as a matter of course rather than precaution. Marie sets her hand in his without hesitation, his hand so much larger than her own small one, but she doesn't feel at all threatened or intimidated by his size. Even the scars she can see don't bother her. ]

Would you mind some company?

[ She's not quite ready to feel alone again, and if he's just walking around trying to jog his memory, perhaps they could do that together. Maybe they could even help each other. ]

[ The shake is a soft squeeze, careful, and a light shake and there's a moment where he almost wants to just hold her hand, connect and hold onto something that doesn't make him feel vaguely ominous. Even through the gloves (and he needs the gloves, he has a feeling no one would shake his hands without them) it's just... nice. But he lets go. Mostly because something inside of himself tells him he doesn't deserve that. ]

No. Company would be nice.

[ He has a lovely handshake, not forceful like some, but almost akin to simply holding her hand. It felt... like something she'd been longing for. It's a strange sensation, but he's not the only one who wants to hold on a little longer, to connect. And it doesn't escape her notice that's wearing gloves like she is, but with the chill in the air, she has to assume it's simple for practicality. ]

Good, I'm so glad to hear it. You were going this way?

[ She points in the direction he'd seemed to be headed, then in a move that almost surprises herself, she moves to his side and slips her arm through his. It's really more wrapping her arm around his, her hand holding onto him like he was escorting her. For a moment, she worries about the proximity, but they're both well-covered and there's little chance of his touching her skin. It should be alright, so long as he doesn't mind her being so close. ]

[ His uniform pretty much covers him from boots up to his neck, which is a couple of feet up from the top of her head; as safety goes, they're pretty well set. He blinks a little at her arm in his before settling into the idea with a soft smile and letting her do what she wants. He was heading that way and he can continue that way just fine. ]

This place seems...

[ He almost thinks to say nice, but it wouldn't be quite right. 'Peaceful' is wrong in the same way, just from the feeling in his gut. Eventually, he falls on the right word: ]

Quiet. More quiet than I feel used to.

[ Marie feels rather short next to Randel, despite the fact that she's of average height for a woman, but she imagines most people feel that way around him. And he's not overpowering with his height, not using it in the slightest to make his presence known. If anything, she almost gets the impression that he'd rather shrink down and be less noticeable.

Glancing around the street as they begin to walk, she ponders that notion. It was quiet compared to most towns, she was certain, vaguely recalling the feeling of walking through a city brimming with people, but at the same time it seems... Well, it honestly seems like more than she's had in a while. ]

Somewhere I didn't want to be...

It is rather quiet. I feel like I've been somewhere quieter though, for a long time.

[ Her hand tightens slightly around his arm as the realization surfaces that she'd been held somewhere against her will. For years, if her memory was accurate. She couldn't recall where, or why, or what she'd been through in that time, but suddenly the ability to see other people at all feels like a precious gift. ]

[ The change in her grip has him looking over at her, gauging, watching to make sure that she's all right, that nothing is seriously wrong. He lets her process whatever she's processing before very carefully leaning down a little to look at her eyes. Not directly, off to the side. He doesn't want to startle her, after all. ]

I don't remember anything about where I was. All I have are fragments. And feelings.

[ He keeps his voice low, trying to draw her out of whatever had just startled her. ]

[ It takes a moment for her to resurface from that feeling of anxious discomfort that came with the recollection. Wherever she'd been, she has the sense that it wasn't an overly pleasant experience, and that if given the choice, she should never go back there.

But why would she? Wayward Pines was home. Wasn't it?

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she looks up to meet Randel's gaze and offers him a reassuring smile and gentle pat on his arm. She's fine, as fine as she can be with present circumstances as they are. ]

It's the same for me, sugar. It's impressions more than anything, or things that I know about myself even if I don't remember all the details. Like how I know I used to be a teacher -- I just can't what I taught, or who, or where.

[ ...the things he knows about himself aren't nearly that pleasant. At least, most of them aren't. The vague recollection of his sister and the woman who hugged him are nice but the rest of it...

His eyes flicker to his belt where the steel lantern sits in it's seemingly familiar spot. He knows not to turn it on unless he wants to hurt people. The problem is, he can't imagine a time when he wants to hurt people. Or why anyone would make such a thing.

But he breathes out and gives her a faintly awkward nod. Yeah, it's like that for him too. ]

I think... I'm... I don't eat meat?

[ Marie remembers a few less than pleasant things about herself as well, things she isn't quite ready to share with anyone yet. Like the fact that she's a mutant and can kill someone with her skin. Or the fact that she doesn't seem to have a home to go back to, which doesn't make any sense given the key in her pocket that is supposedly to her own house. Maybe it's a broader sense of not having a home beyond this one? Whatever it is, thinking about it right now just makes her headache worse, so she doesn't. ]

You're a vegetarian? [ The request for confirmation is asked without disbelief or presumption. ] You must really love animals.

[ Of course there are vegetarians who choose the lifestyle per dietary restrictions, but he doesn't seem like the type for that. There's a good reason for his not eating meat, she's sure of it, but it doesn't seem like he remembers what it is. ]

[ He shrugs, though that feels right. He thinks about cats and dogs and that's about where his memories stop, but there's a positive feeling there. But that's not quite why he thinks he avoids it. ]

I think I do. But I just... I think it makes me sick.

[ Maybe he was allergic? But that didn't sound right... ]

Some people are like that. Meat doesn't sit well with them, or a hundred other reasons because our bodies are too complicated for our own good.

[ She's trying to reassure him and maybe even make a joke, but she's pretty sure she's doing a crap job of it. But she has to make an effort - it's what she does, she can feel that. Marie is a person who takes care of others, and this man certainly seems to need a little kindness right now. ]

[ ooc: sorry! notif got lost. ]

[ Randel looks down at himself for a moment, considering that. It doesn't seem quite right. Something... something says it's not that. No, it's- ]

Probably.

[ He'll just accept that for now, until he figures out something. Though he has a feeling he won't like the answer when he finds it. Most of his memories seem dark and unpleasant. He's a little quiet for a moment or so before he realizes that he's being rude and turns to look at her with a little smile. ]

It's a nice day, though. A good day to walk around.

[ooc: Sorry for the slow!]

It is. It's a very nice day for walking.

[ She has to smile at that, because it seems like it's been a long time since she's enjoyed a walk outside on a nice day. It's just a feeling, but it's a persistent one that she can't shake.

Walking by a few of the shopfronts, Marie stops in front of one that seems to be an old-fashioned soda shoppe. She looks at it for a moment before turning to tilt her head up at Randel. ]

Does any of this feel familiar to you?

[ He considers the shop beside her, clearly looking through the glass to see if there's a familiar face or something that rings a bell before he finally shakes his head. ]

Nothing. No one. I feel even more disconnected than usual.

[ Huh. Was there a usual? ]

[ Than usual? It must be a feeling he has, the way she has certain impressions and inclinations about things without understanding why. She has the impression right now that she's never stood on this street before today, but that makes about as much sense as anything else. ]

Well, I guess the thing to do is not worry too much about it, then. Cause nothing feels familiar to me either.

[ He almost says something back, that this really should worry them both that nothing's ringing a bell, but he presses his lips together and nods along with her. She's probably right. He's probably being paranoid. Or he was hit on the head better than he thought. He can't help that his back is itching between the shoulders, though. ]

And keep walking around. We'll find something, I'm sure.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

(april intro) WELCOME TO WAYWARD PINES!

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