(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

[corby]

[ Rhiannon stops, eyes narrowing just a little in a curious squint directed at the woman who dared to, like. Tell her that she couldn't go inside? Whatever, there's no signs, and anyway this is like. Anti bird or something. Birds get into Wal-Mart all the time. Why is this different?

The raven turns towards Pepper in that weird, kind of waddling walk that they do, spreads her wings, and screams at Pepper in a way that's meant to convey 'Open the door so I can get a pack of cigarettes and I can be on my fucking way' but probably just comes across as a very large blackbird, well. Screaming.

Rhiannon closes her wings and waddles back around to the door, stands, and frowns at it. ]

[ceoinstilettos]

[ and she has clearly ruffled this bird’s feathers. haha. but it’s true! most places have rules barring animals from entering for a multitude of reasons… and the number only grows when there’s food involved. still, for some reason this grouchy little bird seems hell bent on going inside. ]

[ when rhiannon all but screeches at her she doesn’t even flinch. look, she’s been yelled at plenty of times, so it’s going to take a lot more than that to shake her. but in all seriousness, what could this bird possibly need from inside? ] … [ shaking her head she approaches the door, pushing it open. if she pretends like she didn’t see her enter, then oops. ] After you.

[corby]

[ WELL. Someone in this town has manners, thank fuckin' god, and the bird marches straight into the store like it belongs there, pausing in the doorway to look around.

Ah. There. She spots a counter that seems to have what she wants, and she talks off from standing, wings flapping, a couple feathers flying, the poor check out clerk screeching in terror as four pounds of feathers comes flying right at her face. The clerk ducks and Rhiannon doesn't manage to bank properly, instead flying right into the display case of cigarettes behind the counter, sending it crashing to the floor. Whoops? ]

[ceoinstilettos]

[ my goodness. pepper shakes her head as the bird saunters inside like it owns the place. she stifles a chuckle as she grabs a basket and turns down the nearest aisle to start shopping. she didn’t see anything. ]

[ but not even a moment later she hears the clerk screech, followed by a crash. well, who would have seen this coming! pepper pinches the bridge of her nose and blows out a sigh, because as much as she’d like to ignore the commotion coming from the front of the store she feels partially responsible. ]

[ returning to the checkout she peers over the counter and frowns, the bird having crash landed into the cigarette display. in a panic the clerk reaches for a broom. ] H- Hey now. [ using the basket to guard the bird from being struck she gives the poor girl a lopsided smile. ] It must have just snuck inside. [ nope. ] It’s scared. [ doubtful. ] Let me handle this. [ pepper, no, you’re not the bird whisperer. ]

[corby]

[ The bird is decidedly not scared, and is, in fact, actually really annoyed. She squawks at the clerk, which doesn't dissuade her from reaching for that broom any, but Rhiannon ignores them both in favor of hopping towards the mess that she... is totally not responsible for in any way shape or form.

The clerk freezes as Rhiannon starts sorting through the pile of cigarettes on the floor, and stares in shock as she grabs a pack of Camels in her beak. Rhiannon flaps back up to the counter, and sets the cigarettes down next to the register.

And then turns to Pepper. Well??? She'll pay you back. Probably. ]