pineslog | (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

Clary couldn't stop the smile that spread over her lips. "You do have legs." She had a feeling that he was talking about something more specific but she couldn't stop the light jabbing tease.

"I'm ready to head out when you are. I think I need to sleep."

Maybe she'll wake up and remember something more.

That gets a smile back, before he blinks and has to think about it for a moment. He smiles again once he gets the joke and makes a point of making that smile a little wider so she knows before he holds up a finger. One moment.

It takes a moment to find what he's looking for, and he's already folding up the cuffs for her as he walks back, but he returns with a pair of sweatpants and holds them out to her. He doesn't really recognize the style of the clothes, but they'd seemed soft and warm and she seemed to like both of those things.

At fist Clary was confused. Her joke hadn't been that great but it was nothing to leave over. When Randel returned with a pair of sweat pants she smiled.

"It's not that far." She didn't think. "But thanks."

She took the sweat pants, happy for an elastic waist band and quickly pulled it over her thin pale legs. She easily put it over top of her dress but still had to roll both the waist and the legs. She was short and she was very aware of that fact.

"Okay. That should work." At least for a short term solution.

Another nod. Then he's getting his boots on.

"I'm not sure anything in there will fit me. But it looked nice."

He takes the time to lace up his boots carefully; have to take care of things when you know how precious supplies in your size are. Then he's pulling on the coat again and opening the door to let her out.

"You can come here any time if you need to."

He doesn't see anyone here, and it doesn't seem like anyone's been here. Apparently, he's alone here.

Clary made her way back towards the front door, tucking a lose strand of bright red hair behind her ear. She slipped on her shoes, using the wall to keep her balanced and then turned towards Randel.

"Nothing fit's you?" Her eyebrows gathered quizzically. "I thought you lived here?" Though it made her increasingly curious about what she'd find at her house.

She couldn't shake the feeling that going home was somehow dangerous. With a shake of her head she tried to push the thoughts and feelings away, focusing on what she remembered. "I'll remember." She smiled before pushing open the door and holding it for Randel to stop through first. A knot begins to form beneath her breast bone but she ignores it and continues onward.

He looks over at her with a raised eyebrow. Honestly, it's weirder that things would fit him. But-

"I'm not sure. I didn't really look. I just found something for you." A pause before- "But I'm not exactly normal sized."

He's well aware of that. There's no animosity about it, and not even any awkwardness. It's his body, whatever it is. And it makes a sort of sense, considering he sold himself to be an experiment.

"I'll look more later."

And then he's following her out, locking up behind himself.

Clary easily accepted his statement as fact. She didn't know why, maybe because she was so short and when the two of them stood side by side it felt like they were the start to a really bad joke. A shrimp and a giant walked into a bar...

She pulled the long sleeves of his sweater over her hands and stepped down the front porch of his house. Her attempts at distracting herself from the tightening knot in her chest weren't working. Her mind kept drifting back to her home, there was a smell associated to it, the reason why she can't go home, but she can't figure out what it is.

Clary walked in silence for a few steps before looking back at Randel.

"Thanks." She knew she had thanked him for the clothes already. "For the company. All this..." She waved her hands. "It's kind of weird."

He looks down and over at her with a little smile and offers a companionable shrug.

"Everything's strange when you can't remember anything." His voice goes a little lower, just for her. "But this place feels... off."

"Mmm?" Clary looked at him curiously.

She wasn't sure what he meant. Yes, it was different but Clary assumed it was because she couldn't remember anything. Don't those with memory lose often feel displaced or lost or lonely? It certainly wasn't a pleasant feeling but maybe with time...

The tension in her chest twisted and she suddenly understood what he meant. Her eyes lowered as well as her voice. "yeah..."

She returned to silence, her house wasn't far. Maybe if she slept, she'll feel better when she woke up.

He reaches over and moves carefully to put his hand on her shoulder.

"A place is just as much the people as anything. And you seem kind."

She's not the only person he's talked to or the only one he's dealt with, but she's the one who reached out the most and it gives him hope, of a kind.

Clary turned to look up at him, trying her best to smile.

"Yeah." She knew that it was horribly childish but she wished her mother was here. Her mother always knew what to do. Being an adult, growing up... all of that stuff kind of sucked. She didn't want to face all this alone.

Clary knew she wasn't exactly alone but she felt lonely.

"I think I need a burger and sleep." She admitted with a rueful smile. "My place is right up here... I think." Clary pointed to a single bedroom place that was located in the middle of the street.

Some of his more relaxed and calming demeanor falls away as he starts clearly casing the house and the houses beside it, though there's not much to see, nothing outright sinister. He's scanning for threats, though, clearly unsatisfied with how little he can gather as he turns back to Clary. Some of it falls away again, but he's clearly worried for her.

"Sleep helps most things. And the morning sun helps most of all."

Clary waved away his worry but it was mostly to settle her own nerves. "I can see my front door. I can make it from here."

She flashed him a nervous smile before turning on her heels and running off towards her front door. Her fingers fumble with the keys before she slips it into the lock. There is a moment of hesitation before she turned the key, listening for the tumbler to unlock.

It's fine.

Whatever the feeling was about, it wasn't about this home... maybe where she lived before here. Where ever that was.

He waits until she's in the door and the door is closed, until he hears no banging or screams, until she's been in there long enough that he's not worried. Then, and only then, does he nod and start on his own way back to his strange and empty house.

(april intro) WELCOME TO WAYWARD PINES!

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