(april intro) WELCOME TO WAYWARD 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 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.

Comments

[birdcostumes]

His eyes widen when he steps out of the store and spots one of the tallest dudes he's ever seen in his life. Or, at least, probably. Sam can't really be sure, since his memory is pretty spotty. This guy is bigger than Thor, anyway, and that's saying a lot.

There's also a lot to be said about the other guy's reaction, the way he jumps and looks apologetic about it; especially coupled with the old scar and the military dress. Sam can draw conclusions based on something he actually is sure about. Before joining up with the Avengers, Sam remembers counseling war veterans, and this guy reminds him of a lot of the people he'd met in that line of work.

His surprise quickly fades and is replaced by a friendly smile as he returns the wave. "Hey man. You look kind of lost." There's a lot of that going around today, he's found. "Need any help?"

[toten_sie]

He blinks at the question a little before ruffling his own hair and glancing around.

"I'm all right. Sorry to worry you. I'm just trying to remember something."

And nothing, so far, seemed to be coming through. Everything just looked strange, not even just unfamiliar but legitimately alien. When he thought of a storefront, it didn't look like these. Or when he imagined a man, he was dressed so much differently. Nothing looked right but they'd all been very clear that this was his home.

[birdcostumes]

"Nah, it's okay. I hear it's pretty common for people to not remember much, after an accident here." And that is a pretty loaded statement right there, considering what Sam's been told so far. It might even be pushing it, as far as 'what's allowed,' but this guy looks 100% lost and confused. His uniform is completely foreign and as out of place as Sam's own.

"Anything specific, you're trying to remember?"

[toten_sie]

That gets a faintly wry, crooked sort of smile in reply. Pretty common? Everyone he's talked to seems to have this story somewhere. And there sure are a lot of accidents. But mostly, he's tilting his head to point out-

"It's a little hard to know what you're trying to remember until you remember it." All the same, he understands the spirit of the question. "But no, nothing specific. Just... something. Nothing is ringing any bells."

And yet, he catches something else.

"You 'hear'?" As opposed to having experienced it. "Are you..." new here too "fresh out of the hospital too?"

[birdcostumes]

"Ain't that the truth," he replies with a snort. He's no stranger to amnesiacs, having dealt with them before on occasion in his previous line of work; and also, disconcertingly, he happens to be one at the moment. One of the few things he remembers for certain is a vague sense of his time as a councilor at a VA hospital, which introduced him to all sorts of people.

He's not very conspicuous about the fact that he glances around at the buildings nearest to them, where cameras might be hiding. But he does it anyways, and then replies, "I was in an accident, if that's what you mean." The gesture he makes with his eyebrows is even less conspicuous.

"Yeah. I had a pal from home meet me in the hospital. He told me a few things." And suddenly, Randel doesn't seem as confused as he did at first, if those hints he's dropping are what Sam is picking up. "I can fill you in, if you want," he adds, with a very obvious flick of his chin toward the residential district. There are rooms in Steve's house that supposedly don't have cameras in them. He'll gladly tell anybody and everybody about what is going on here, as far as he knows, if they'll follow along.

[toten_sie]

"That would be nice," he says, as if he's accepting an invitation for tea or a round of beers. Casual. Not at all like he's accepting a clandestine information drop. He's never been particularly good at anything terribly complex when it comes to anything secretive, but he can do something simple like this. He's had to maneuver around difficult situations before.

"Should I pick up some beer or something before I head over?"

And that is pure Pines-memory right there. Randel, for a multitude of reasons, does not drink except to stave off the occasional chill or as part of cough medicine. But the Randel who was on the basketball team, who knew Damon and was friends with Katherine and Pepper...

That one had the occasional beer.

He wonders why it feels so fake to say it, since those are supposed to be his memories.

[birdcostumes]

From what he's been told so far, Sam figures it won't hurt to pull in somebody who seems to be in the same boat as he's in, himself, and help him out. Besides. Bringing home another stray amnesiac for an impromptu picnic in the bedroom is hardly the weirdest thing to happen at Steve's house.

"Yeah, that'd be great. You eat yet? We can grab some sandwiches or something, while we're at it," he responds, glancing around at the businesses lining the street. There are several candidates, as far as smalltown mom-and-poppish kinds of places go.

There's a likely-looking deli across the street, and he inclines his head toward it. "I'm Sam, by the way."

[toten_sie]

"Randel," is the response, offered with a smile and a nod. Sam's a good name, even if it's not a familiar name. There's something about him that feels familiar, like he's falling into step beside

Beside another soldier.

"Sandwiches would be nice." He considers what he'd seen in his wallet when he'd woken up. Not much, not much at all. But it's hard to come to the idea of needing to pay for food in general. His brain keeps telling him 'rations will be distributed' but the rest of him knows that isn't true. "My treat."

Regardless. He'll be all right. And Sam was being kind.