JUNE 1ST - 3RD | AFTER THE ACCIDENT |
There was an accident. The details are hazy and obscure, but it's still the first thing you remember. Maybe a car wreck — metal and broken glass everywhere, and the sirens and the
screaming. Maybe your bike hit a rock and you careened uncontrollably off a mountain path. Maybe something less mundane, even impossible seems to have happened to you. You can't quite make out the details, not who was at fault or why. Try as you might, the chaos is all you can truly remember.
It's also the
last thing you remember from before waking up.
When you open your eyes, the accident is gone, replaced with white sterility. Perhaps somewhat alarming at first, until you blink at your surroundings and realize that you're in a hospital bed. You try to move but are sluggish, covered in a scattering of minor injuries you only vaguely remember receiving, not to mention the possibility of the partially healed remnants of other, seemingly older wounds.
It's a shame you won't be able to tell the difference between the two. Your memories are an indiscernible fog where they're not absent altogether, only a few standing out in your mind with any kind of certainty.
If the room happens to be empty when you wake, it's not for long. Nurses bustle in, taking your vitals and asking your name and anything else you might remember. Don't worry, 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.
Then you'll be left alone. Or maybe you'll find yourself visited by loved ones: family, or friends. You've lived here much or all of your life, so of course you have those things. Of course they already remember you being here, and may remember visiting you in the hospital while you were still unconscious.
Either way, the hospital's population is quadruple the usual, and you get the impression the nurses are working themselves ragged just running damage control. You might hear talk around the hospital of other small population spikes over the past few days, though many patients appeared to be well enough to be released the same day, and the same might be said of you. Or at least the staff doesn't seem to be too concerned. You can even leave your room without much fuss, any doctor or nurse that might try to intercept you getting called away almost immediately to deal with something even more pressing.
Of course, it's not so unusual to settle in until you're discharged, either. You may choose to wait for loved ones to come pick you up, even speak to your fellow patients, whether roommates or others wandering the halls. The more enterprising and suspicious might even consider it an opportunity to poke around for a few basic answers.
JUNE 1ST - 4TH | GETTING USED TO HOME AGAIN |
However you get there, outside the birds sing a joyful song, and though the air is just a bit crisp, the sky's as sunny as you've ever seen it. It's bright enough to make you squint for a moment before you feast your eyes on the quaint little mountain town of Wayward Pines, though that might just be some sort of side effect from your accident. Trees line the street at regular intervals, carefully manicured and slightly waterlogged from the recent flood. Cars cruise by at a safe and respectable speed. Fellow pedestrians spare you glances, some wary, others concerned or just friendly. It probably depends on how clothed you were when you left the hospital.
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 (could be a good direction to head in, though — maybe it'll jog your memory), and one that you might: Wayward Pines Sheriff's Department. You've likely caught wind by now that any clothing or other items you had on you at the time of your accident are being held by the Sheriff until you're well enough to claim them. Not to mention the keys to your home, kept locked and safe at the station for you. That should probably be your next stop, though if anything's missing in what they hand over you'd be the last to know.
It's time to get home, to recover from your ordeal and try to sort through your memories. Do you remember this house, the pictures of family on the walls and how to navigate to the bathroom in the middle of the night? Maybe it's easier with loved ones living with you, helping you get settled, or maybe you're on your own. Either way, over the next few days it's a good idea to try to remember your routines, to get out and finally visit Main Street if you haven't already. Maybe you even remembered that you work in one of the more familiar sounding shops, or elsewhere in town. Makes sense they'd give you some time off to recover and get reacclimated to your life here, but eventually you should probably get back to work. You haven't seen your co-workers in a few days, and besides, you have to be able to put bread on the table.
JUNE 5TH | GLUG GLUG'S GRAND OPENING! |
Town hall is listening, and town hall has heard you loud and clear (their surveillance equipment is of the highest quality, after all). While there appears to have been some... clerical issues and red tape concerning the highest voted name, when the fifth rolls around the newly completed and lovingly anointed
Glug Glug's opens its doors to the public for the official grand opening!
For an old diner, this place has undergone an amazing transformation, with a ground, second, and basement floor all open to the public and offering a wide variety of entertainment options within:
The ground floor features a long bar along one wall where one can order coffee, tea, soda, hot chocolate, whatever your little caffeinated heart desires, as well as alcoholic drinks 10% or under — provided you can show some form of ID, of course. Linda, perched at the bar with a mimosa in hand, will tell anyone who listens that
she voted for Pubby McPubface, but honestly, who's listening to Linda, anyway? Pastries and small appetizers are also available at half price for the special event, and card and board games make inviting and colorful centerpieces on the tables scattered around the room (there are classics like Monopoly and the rousing game of Jenga in the corner, amongst less common fare you
may not have played before, like Cards Against Humanity and Settlers of Catan).
A lounge on the second floor overlooks the ground floor and features plush couches and chairs, ambient lighting and a pleasant, relaxing atmosphere to contrast with the low buzz of activity below. A small balcony out back provides a peaceful, quiet view of some of the very pines after which our town was named.
The basement is where anyone interested will find music, dance, billiards and booze. A small stage on one end features regular local live performances, with a vast stretch of the room devoted to a dance floor and just a few private booths set into the wall around the edges. The bar down here serves the harder stuff to those that can prove they're old enough to be handling it, and one corner of the room is devoted to a billiards table and two large pinball machines.
Technically the basement level is open to all ages, but getting down there requires showing your ID and getting your hand stamped, and anyone under 16 is
highly encouraged to be accompanied by an adult. And, of course, anyone caught sneaking drinks to minors will be summarily kicked out, as well as reported to Sheriff Griffith for a good talking to about, you know, civic duty and such. It's honestly not worth it, you
know how he goes on.
Today is supposed to be a party after all, let's not spoil it just yet.
MOD NOTES
Welcome to our fifth mingle log for newbies and oldbies alike!
This log is meant to cover characters' first five days in Wayward Pines. Characters for this round will appear staggered in the hospital between the
1st and the
3rd, and a CR building event will occur on the
5th, after everyone has had a suitable amount of time to get settled in town. For the most part, only the five memories detailed in your character's application are remembered throughout the duration of this log, although their false Wayward Pines memories may also begin to surface (in those who've opted to utilize this mechanic) as the week 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,
date,
location, and
Open or
Closed, to help keep things organized and make your character easy to find.
If you have any questions regarding this intro log, feel free to ask them on the FAQ or the relevant plurk.
Blaine DeBeers | 1-5th | hospital, town, glug glug's | OTA
[When Blaine woke, there is an immediate sense of wrong. He doesn't know how he got to the hospital but it doesn't feel right to be here. Even when they tell him he was in an accident, something doesn't sit quite right. His mind feels muddled and he doesn't recognize any of these faces.
Come to think of it, he doesn't recognize much of anything. Blaine panics, hearing but not really listening to the doctors.
He waits until they are distracted by something else, grabs his clothes to dress and leave. His memories may be fuzzy, but he knows one thing for sure: he doesn't want to be here. Though while he is on his way out, he looks around to see who else is here. Blaine can't really place why, but he feels like the accident he was in involved a lot more people]
ii. getting used to home
[Blaine is still trying to sort through his fuzzy memories. He can feel some of them, but they aren't very clear yet. He's hoping that a walk around town will spark something. So far nothing is looking familiar.
Without really meaning to, Blaine makes his way to the police station. Maybe he knows someone there? It feels like that could be the case. At the very least, someone might have filed a missing person's report on him]
iii. glug glug's grand opening
[a bar sounds like a damn good idea about now. Blaine badly needs the drink, and should there be anyone who knows him, that's just an added bonus. He hits the bar first, but of course doesn't have any ID for the alcohol. Coffee will have to do. Not really what he wanted, but the caffeine kick is pretty nice.
Eventually Blaine makes his way to the lounge area. He meanders around like he's looking for something. Shouldn't there be a piano here? He may have to talk to management about that. And later he also wanders over to the basement entrance. The music is calling to him but again, no ID. So he hangs out hoping someone will just let him in]
1. after the accident
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Ah, no. I don't think I am. None of them have said anything-- [he nods to the doctors] -- and they would know if I worked here. I'm on my way out, too. Care for some company?
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Oh, good. ( there was relief in her voice. she certainly didn't care for the thought that she'd potentially been found. escaping this place seems to be difficult when one keeps getting turned around. ) I suppose that's true, yes. ( she gives pause but nods. ) Do you know the way out of here?
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signs are a good method out of the madness, though. ) I'll help you look, we can get out of here together. ( a nod. she motions for him to follow her down the hall, albeit going in a new direction since he'd just come from that way and not found the way out, and her the other way and not found the way out. logic says try the new path. )
So you're a patient, too, then?
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Regardless, he doesn't want to be here. So he chooses a path that looks right and moves like he knows where he's going. Looking lost would just make them stand out and possibly get roped back in for more tests]
Apparently. They told me I was in an accident, but my memories are really fuzzy. Other than that, I feel okay.
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striding along beside him as though they both have purpose makes them go a little less noticed by the staff. she turns her dark gaze toward him as he mentioned the same information they had told her. )
They told me the same thing, although when I asked what sort I was met with nothing, no response. I was told there was head trauma and that's why my head feels ... off. ( off felt like a good word to use. ) But like you, I feel quite well aside that. Perfectly well, really.
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He runs his fingers through his hair, like he's searching for bumps. He won't find any, of course]
It's really hard for me to take anything they say at face value. Neither of us look or feel hurt, so what kind of accident was it? [it's a more rhetorical question]
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not... entirely sure how i managed to do that. my bad.
no worries :)
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III
Vic-- [ No. What's his name again? His false name, from Storybrooke... ] Dr. Whale?
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Doctor. This is the second time someone thinks he's a doctor. Maybe he is. He did want to go to the morgue once he left the hospital...]
It's just Blaine. I think.
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His own confusion and uncertainty, it seems, is another frustratingly familiar feeling. But Jefferson manages to recover, plastering a fake smile on his face, even as the corners of his mouth want to turn downward. ]
Blaine. Sorry. I get... confused sometimes. [ It's an easy enough excuse to hide behind, since the Jefferson of Wayward Pines is, much like the Jefferson of Storybrooke, known for being a bit off. He lingers awkwardly for a beat, before adding: ] Care for a drink? [ Like Jefferson owes it to the man for interrupting him. ]
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Luckily, the stranger diverts his attention in the best way]
I would love a drink. What's good here?
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Nothing that I'm aware of. The tea certainly isn't worth the money. [ But he may be biased. That is, after all, the source of his pettiness. ] But they have beer, if that's what you like.
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I prefer wine, but beggars can't be choosers, I guess.
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[ Not that he's biased... Okay, he is biased, but he's not wrong, either. They've got more to offer than beer and weak drinks. ]
Sorry. [ He looks a little chagrined as he realizes: ] Here I am, offering you a drink, then telling you how bad they all are. [ A+ SOCIALIZING, JEFFERSON. ] So. Wine?
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I appreciate the honesty. Better to know ahead of time that what you're about to drink is shit. [he shrugs] Why not? Let's take a ride into the danger zone.
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iii. glug glug's grand opening
She has her backpack slung over her shoulder and a light smile on her lips. There is a cup of coffee in her hand in a to go cup but it looks like she'd kept getting stop and had drank most of it here.
She pauses when she sees Blaine, recognizing him from around but not much more than that. She steps up and looks between him and the bouncer.]
If you don't have ID they'll stamp your hand and let you in anyway. It just means you can't drink. [She would know since Clary is currently under 21 and enjoys dancing.]
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To her comment, his lip twisted up in amusement]
Well, that takes out half the fun, doesn't it?
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Half the fun is better than no fun at all. Which is what it looks like with you standing here.
[She waves a hand in the air as if it helps her point.]
That or you could ask the guy or you can run home and grab your ID.
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He would love to drink. He is especially interested in tasting the wine. But the more he thinks on it, the more he has to admit that any struggling memories wouldn't work their way back to full-form with alcohol.
That decided, he takes the stamp to the hand so he can go down]
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She has no ID and she flashes the man at the door the stamped part of her wrist before making him stamp Baline's hand too. If he really wants to drink he can probably rub it off with some spit... Clary doesn't know but it seems reasonable.]
Was that as painful as you thought it'd be?
[She asks as they reach the bottom of the steps. There is dancing and music, as well as the bar off to the side. It has a completely different feel compared to the area upstairs.]
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[it's tolerable as it is now. He can feel the beat enough to dance to it]
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What do you define as awful?
[As the music continues Clary shakes her hips and sways a bit, doing what most pass as 'dancing' nowadays. It's really all she knows how to do.]
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Boy bands.
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