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

Rustle, rustle. Not finding anything interesting, he fumbles around in there then trots back out, giving Randel a vaguely dissatisfied mew. Nothing in there of interest though he is curious where Randel found a pack to begin with. A mystery to solve at a later date he supposes.

The kitten leans up to bite down on the opening of the pack, dragging down to simulate the movement of closing it. He's done. Thank you.

Message received, he closes the pack back up and makes sure that everything's stuffed back in before putting it over his shoulder again. Then he starts looking around, sighing a little to himself.

There's a little thinking before he turns back to Sissel.

"Apparently, I work at an animal shelter. Do you need a home, kitten?"

His ears perk up at the word 'home'. Home. That sounds good and familiar. As confusing as everything is now, he can't help but want to follow this man purely on the offer alone.

He swishes his long tail that's crooked at the middle and lets out a heartfelt meow. He even moves to stand from where he's seated and takes a few steps forward in indication that he'll follow.

Yes please

...well, he'd been heading back to his house as opposed to the animal shelter. But while he'd offered the animal shelter, he didn't quite feel right bringing this cat there. Maybe that was what was missing from his house; for some reason, he felt like he needed a cat there, felt like he didn't sleep without something soft and purring near his face. Yes, okay, he'd bring the cat home. Maybe bring him by the shelter if he had any trouble but-

"Follow me."

He'll be slow, just to make sure the kitten can keep up. He's got much longer legs, after all.

Sissel seemed to understand him though he also seemed to have his own personality as he quite daintily set the pace with an easy trot. Which considering his status as a kitten, was probably rather slow for Randel's long legs.

He looked around curiously as he trotted alongside, taking in the sights despite not really needing to physically turn the cat body to see. It just felt right to perform these actions.

All cats have their own personality, or so Randel would say. And he watches the kitten, as well as watches out for the kitten while they make their way to the residential area.

"I don't have any much food there yet," he admits as he starts leading the way towards his house in particular, "but I can get you some water. And I'll head out a little later to grab dinner for us both, all right?"

Sissel meows his understanding and even rubs up against Randel's ankle as they walk. He's the affectionate sort, he discovers. He does try not to trip Randel up though and will continue to trot alongside him for the rest of the journey. It's strange how nothing looks familiar at all but he's just a kitten after all.

The meows and the rubbing both earn a smile and soon enough, he's reaching out to open the front door to his house; it's honestly the first time he's really felt normal doing it. Maybe this is his cat and he didn't even realize it? Or maybe he's just had cats around; it would make sense with his supposed job.

"Make yourself at home," he says as soon as the door is closed behind them. He'll take off his coat for the moment, anyway, and head for the kitchen. The kitten could probably do with some water at the very least.

Ooh. A house. It feels... foreign but warm and welcoming too. Like something he's yearned for once before. Sissel's going to wander around on his own once they're inside, slinking under the living room table before hopping up onto the table to peer at the TV.

His gold eyes peer at it and the obvious button curiously. He doesn't remember much but he remembers batting at things that seem like they'll move. Suddenly, in Randel's eyes, the kitten slumps over as his ghost hops over to the core of the TV.

Randel is getting a bowl full of water and thus, he doesn't notice for the moment. Instead, he's searching for a good spot to put it down in. THEN he's looking for Sissel and he opens his mouth to call the cat over when he sees that Sissel has slumped over. He assumes that the kitten is asleep, having decided that this was a safe indoor spot where he could sleep, and closes his mouth again. He'll take the opportunity to go out and get some food for the kitten. It shouldn't take long.

Sissel can still see from where his spirit is possessing the TV. He waits until Randel had gone before he tried his hand at physically manipulating the TV. It was easy enough to turn it on though the noise startled him. He leapt back into his own body and peered at it with curious gold eyes.

Moving pictures...?

The TV distracts him for a good long while, then he's moving his body around the rest of the house. The fridge looks daunting but it requires just a bit too much strength to open. The cabinets don't have the same problem though. By the time Randel gets home, he'll find the kitchen cabinet doors in varying states of being open. Maybe a broken glass and a TV that's inexplicably on, as well as a kitten sitting by his bowl of water and peering at him with wide eyes.

Randel will come into the house very very worried because he has no mental context for 'television', but the memory will kick in once he actually comes in. He walks over slowly, turning it off quietly since he doesn't quite believe he's alone in the house yet, before making his way to the kitchen and-

When he sees the shattered glass, he starts looking for Sissel in earnest, glad to find him beside the water basin. Then he's peering around the kitchen to make sure he doesn't see any blood around. That's not enough, though, and he'll use a gloved hand to sweep the glass together before removing it to reach for Sissel's paw.

Theoretically, the cat is probably going to attempt to maim him for touching paws, but he doesn't want to chance getting any glass from the gloves to the paw. He'll deal with any wounds the kitten gives him for daring to check his paws for glass shards.

"It's all right, I just want to make sure you didn't hurt yourself. Just one little look and I'll put out dinner for you."

The cabinet doors aren't worth worrying about. At least not yet.

Sissel just swishes his tail patiently as Randel inspects him. He's not injured at all and doesn't seem bothered by the small whirlwind of chaos around him. He meows and playfully bats at Randel's hand once the inspection is over, no claws in sight.

He turns towards the TV, seemingly disappointed that the entertaining moving pictures have been switched off. With another mew, he pads quietly towards it and plops his ass down in front of it.

Randel is pleasantly surprised by the lack of claws and he'll play with Sissel a little after the inspection, as much because it's fun as because he doesn't want Sissel to have bad memories of the whole thing. Then he gives him a little headscritch and goes to clean up the mess and close all the cabinet.

"Someone's going to have to get a few toys, I see," he says with a grin and his eyes go to the box of groceries he'd bought. The cardboard box would probably serve as a good toy for the time being, once he was done putting things away.

That gets done, the box is put near Sissel as an offering, and then some of the catfood is spooned out into a tiny bowl as an offering.

He's a civilized cat! He obligingly plays though he's not the energetic sort of cat, seemingly more chill and at ease for a kitten. Though he does roll over at one point to bare his tummy with no threat of scratching either.

He lazes around on his side when Randel goes off to do his thing, only perking up when presented with the box and food. He's not hungry but he obligingly eats anyway because that's a cat thing to do, right?

Bellies that are offered will get scratched, especially when it's clear that there's no repercussions. When Sissel seems to be done with the little bit of food, he packs up the rest for the 'fridge before heading to the living room to sit on the couch and, all right, turn on the television. Then he's patting his lap in invitation. Care to sit and get pet while they watch television?

Ooh. This seems like the perfect way to spend the day. Sissel hops up onto Randel's lap and curls up there with a quiet but content purr. His eyes are wide and open as they watch the TV though. Moving screens are quite fascinating really and his tail flicks in response.

And that's nice. Honestly, it's a pretty content afternoon for him as well and it settles him out more than any of the pleasant suburbia ever could.

He's not so much watching as decompressing and letting his muscles relax.

Sissel's full attention is on the TV though he does notice when Randel relaxes. Turning his head to regard the tall human, he draws his eyes away from the moving pictures. And with a wiggle of his butt and a dance of his front paws, he leaps up and scrambles onto Randel's shoulder to settle against him and the back of the couch.

Higher vantage point and better view of the TV. All pluses to him.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

(april intro) WELCOME TO WAYWARD PINES!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject