bumfuckidaho | TEST DRIVE MEME, FEBRUARY 2017.

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TEST DRIVE MEME, FEBRUARY 2017.

TEST DRIVE MEME

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 – the nursing staff greets you with a cheerful smile.

Welcome to Wayward Pines, they tell you. You'll make a full recovery here.

option one WELCOME TO WAYWARD PINES

The hospital staff had seemed very friendly, but ultimately unhelpful when it came to answering your questions, insisting you shouldn't worry about such things, and that it was smarter to just rest until you'd fully recovered.

That was some time ago. You've since managed to leave the hospital – either via escape, or simply by waiting patiently and filling out paperwork until they finally agreed to release you. Now you've found yourself in the small but hearty town of Wayward Pines, Idaho. It's a charming little place, and the people there are all friendly enough, more than willing to greet you on the street, or give you directions if you need them.

Unless you're asking for directions out of town, of course.

Some will simply smile and give you a hearty pat on the shoulder and ask why you'd ever want to do a thing like that? Others will get quiet for a moment, and direct you to the nearest sign posted near the doorway of every building.

Don't bother taking the road, either. Whether you walk or get your hands on a vehicle, you won't get anywhere. The road simply takes you away from town for a short while before looping around and bringing you right back in.

There's no use questioning things, and it seems pretty useless to try to leave. So really, why not stay a while? Everyone's convinced that you'll find something to love in Wayward Pines.

(For the purposes of this test drive, you're welcome to handwave the existence of basically any local business or activity.)

option two INTO THE WOODS

You've just heard a scream from the woods.

I mean, it could've been an animal. There's bound to be some kind of wildlife amongst the trees, right? But then again, it did sound awfully... human.

Though all of the locals nearby conceal a flinch at the sound, they'll assure you it's nothing, if you ask them. Why, you're probably just hearing things! (But with an anxious undertone of stop asking questions.) If you're curious, though, and brave enough to go see, they won't make any move to stop you from going into the wooded area surrounding the town.

The trees are tall, and their branches are thick enough to block out a significant amount of sunlight from breaking through the canopy, leaving the forest floor a little dimmer and cooler than the streets of town.

Whatever the source of the scream was, you won't be able to find it out here. An experienced hunter might notice some signs of a struggle, and a few faint boot prints, but they don't really seem to lead anywhere in particular.

What you will find, if you walk far enough, is a fence. A big one - at least 30 feet tall, made of metal and concrete. It goes on quite a ways in either direction as well; follow the wall far enough, and you'll see that it connects with the steep, sheer cliffs that surround the rest of Wayward Pines, effectively boxing the town in.

In actuality, you'll probably feel it before you see it. A full 500 yards from the wall, when it's hardly a shadowy smudge through the trees, you start to feel a little bit tired, a little bit weak. Trouble is, the closer you get, the weaker you feel - like the wall itself is sapping the strength out of you, and the closer you get, the worse it feels. Any powers you may have had grow weaker in kind as you make your way to the fence, but even ordinary humans will find their strength sapping away. By the time you're close enough to read the signs and to feel the crackle of electricity radiating from the thick wires criss-crossing the wall's metal surface, you're too weak to stand.

Do you crawl closer still and risk electrocution, or do you crawl away and assess the situation once you're far enough from the fence to be able to stand?

option three IT'S A COUPLE OF FLAKES

There's nothing particularly insidious about the inch of snow that settles over the town one night while everyone sleeps. Kids run outside to have snowball fights and make snow angels, neighbors wave across to you as they shovel their driveway, the local coffee shop runs a 2 for 1 deal on hot cocoa. Snow crunches under your feet at your walk down the street and the cold bite in the air is revitalizing.

The next morning, there's a few more inches of snow. And then a few more the day after that. By the end of the week the snow is a good three feet deep and the entire experience has lost its novelty. Wayward Pines only has a single street plow to its name, and even when the streets are clear, surprise patches of black ice make travel downright dangerous if you aren't prepared. No special sale on hot cocoa can possibly be worth trudging through knee high snow drifts (even your most consciences neighbors can't keep up on the shoveling anymore).

And the power starts to fail in some of the houses. Sure, the repairman promises to stop by as soon as he can, but you're hardly to first person to call him today and he won't be able to pencil you in until tomorrow at the earliest, and what are you going to do about the cold until then? Maybe your neighbor's heat is still on, or maybe that trek to the coffee shop is looking more appealing by the second.

Either way it's time to layer your clothes, watch your step, and hope that Spring to comes early. And try to ignore that kid double dog daring you to lick a flagpole, it just won't end well.

option four ON THE NETWORK

Though it's not as high-tech as you might be used to (or hell, maybe you're ren faire and it's centuries beyond anything you've seen), but Wayward Pines does in fact have a network to accommodate its citizens.

Go ahead, post a network post! Just note that the network, at current, is audio-only and can only be accessed from the telephones in each character's home.

( a few notes )

Welcome to our second test drive here in The Pines! Just one important thing to note this time:

Upon arrival in Wayward Pines, characters find themselves struggling to remember entirely who they were or where they came from. Memories return progressively over the next two weeks. You're welcome to play with this mechanic in any of these prompts, but it's definitely not mandatory! For more details on this temporary memory loss, see our FAQ.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Option Two

[Skye was always too curious for her own good, so despite the way the locals tried to brush off that terrifying scream, Skye ignored their warnings. None of this sat well with her, especially the lack of animals the further in she went. Like they had all run away from whatever might be out there. There’s a part of her that’s regretting this, especially since she has no weapon on her person to protect herself.

The fence is also something that makes her instincts scream at her that this was not good. At first when she starts to feel drowsy and woozy she thinks it’s because she’s been in here for hours and hasn’t had anything since lunch. Except that she’s feeling worse by the second and that could not be normal. Spotting the fence, Skye had to wonder if it was giving off something to make her feel this way. Knees buckling, Skye attempts to reach out and grab onto a nearby tree but her finger tips just brush the trunk of the tree before she’s suddenly on the ground.

This was not good. Honestly she's not sure if she's hallucinating or if she actually heard someone. Either way, she tries to talk as loudly as she can. Dread filling her when she realized she could actually be in danger and her having absolutely no chance of putting up a fight.]

Hello? Is someone there?

Option Three

[Snow has lost all its magic the older Skye has gotten, unless she has nowhere to be. Then it’s great. Not so great when your back and arms are aching the next after trying to help shovel only for it to pile up again. She had just finished talking a hot bath when she gets out of the bathroom and realizes the TV she had left on is no longer on and the light over the stove is out. Shit. She had heard of some of the other neighbors losing power and now it seemed it was her turn to have some fun.

Getting dressed and feeling tense all over again, Skye made her way out of the house. Nearly sliding down the stairs thanks to the stupid ice. Making her way down the street, there were a few close calls either by her sliding towards someone, or them sliding towards her. She just needed to get to Java Joe’s, then maybe her grumpiness would lessen. Unsurprisingly it was busy when she arrived, but when the warm hit her she didn’t give a shit if she had to stand.]

( i. Welcome to Wayward Pines )

[ They tell her there was an accident. That she isn't badly injured, that she managed to come out of it with only minor cuts and bruises, but she'd still have to stay in the hospital for a few days.

Recovery time, they call it.

Amy goes along with it for the few days, quietly observing and obediently listening to whatever the nurses and other staff tell her to do -- she's good at this, she feels like she's played this different Amy role before, but whenever she tries to recall the memory that the feeling is tied to, she hits a mental brick wall. And before too long, she's released, collected her things and free to explore the world.

As long as that world doesn't take her beyond the fence, she's been briefly warned.

Wayward Pines looks familiar in the way that most small towns do and while none of the names of the shops she passes register in her mind as ones she knows, there's an eerie feeling that makes her believe she does. The feeling makes her stop in front of a small bakery, staring blankly at the various pastries displayed in the window.

Until something clicks in her head, a sudden rush of anger surging through her as disconnected memories quickly flash through her mind, like a slideshow set to move in fast-forward. One sticks out in particular, though and she whispers softly. ]

That asshole.

[ To anyone that happens to walk by and hear her, she just seems very angry at baked goods. ]

( iv. On the Network )

[ Ring ring ring. Don't those rules say you have to pick it up when it does that? When you do, there's a soft, mildly amused voice on the other end. ]

There's a blizzard outside and you have no heat in your house. What do you do?

A. Throw all of your belongings into the fireplace and set them ablaze.
B. Attempt to fix the heat yourself.
C. Become your neighbor's unwanted houseguest.
D. Ply yourself with wine until you no longer notice the cold.

[ Something about this sort of silly questioning feels natural to her. ]

» the woods.

[When you get down to it, Jesse never was good at doing what he was told. Of course, folks around here certainly won't say don't go out there or just forget you heard anything — Jesse doesn't think a single one of them would have the spine enough to say it directly — but they don't need to.]

[So, that's why he's out here in the woods. Mind you, he did make an effort to ignore the first scream as implicitly advised. Weirder shit's happened to him that hearing screams sure as hell isn't anything for him to get worked up about. It's not like he lacks all common sense and he can't figure out that some things are best left alone. But it happens again, and again, and again. Was he really supposed to leave things be?]

[He has no idea where he's headed. The screaming's stopped already, and with the way even the smallest of noise tends to carry through the woods, determining where it was even coming from beyond the vague direction of somewhere out there with the trees is an impossible task. But he walks. And he walks. And then he gets to feeling a little funny. He doesn't know what exactly it is, but he doesn't feel quite as full of energy as he did maybe fifteen minutes ago.]

[Before it gets too bad, he decides it's as good a time as any to stop for a cigarette break. While he's stopped, leaned up against a tree, he takes a moment to survey the woods. It's quiet out here. Quieter than it probably should be. The screaming right about now would be preferable to the deafening silence of the woods. Tossing his cigarette to the ground — because he apparently doesn't buy into the bear's propaganda any better than Wayward Pines' propaganda — he grinds it out with his boot, muttering,]

The hell am I doing out here?

» it's a couple of flakes.

[The snow isn't so bad, Jesse decides. It's a nice, refreshing change of pace. It's not like he can't survive some friendly conversation on his way for that hot cocoa, or even pelt some snowballs back at some kids (or some adults) who are certainly up to no good.]

[That's at the start of the week.]

[By the end of the week, Jesse is like most residents of the town: he's had enough. But having enough does not somehow magically grant him the power of electricity. Nor does it motivate the repairman to get his ass over any sooner. Jesse spends about twenty minutes trying to tolerate the lack of heat in his house, but that's about all he can take before he's outside.]

[He's not on his way to the coffee shop. No, he's trudging through the snow to head to the hardware store, and occasionally grumbling to himself about both the clear overcharging going on for sub-par service from the local repairman. He might admit later that he's being a little unfair, but while he's got snow steadily finding its way into his shoes as he wades through the un-plowed sidewalks, he can't exactly be bothered with being fair. Nothing feels fair right now anyway, so why should he be fair?]

[Skye had taken to reading a book, that's how bored she was, when the phone rang. Jolting out of her daze, she reached for the phone quickly.]

D sounds like the best idea.

You've got wine over there?

[What if she wants to become the unwanted house guest?]

Oh, something terribly heroic, I think.

[She seems to appear out of nowhere. In fact, she's just appeared from behind the tree, attracted by cigarette smoke as well as the fact that there's really no one else out here. That was certainly part of her reasoning.]

[She looks at him with bright eyes--sharp and curious. She's terribly pale, too. But that doesn't mean much.]

Share?

[There's a girl in the snow. Trudging in roughly the same direction Jesse is, albeit much, much more slowly. She's young, short, slim, walking with her head down, struggling through the snow; her glasses are fogged up between her breath and the freezing air, and she's shivering.]

[That's probably because the coat she's got on would only be good for weather about half as cold as this.]

[She doesn't seem to realize Jesse's there. (She does, though.) A girl shivering and trudging through the snow, seeming resigned to . . . this. Suffering. What will you do, Jesse Custer?]

[She followed him. Tulip always follows him. If she doesn't, he won't be, or have, any fucking fun. Not that this is particularly fun, but she could steer him right, or wrong, if she tries really hard.]

[Easiest to pretend this isn't terrifying, really.]

Sounds like you're bitchin', Jesse. Or am I hearing that wrong?

[Meanwhile Skye was on her way back from the coffee shop when she nearly spills her third cup of coffee all over herself and the poor guy walking in the opposite direction. She manages to catch her balance before she actually topples over from the stupid ice. The results thankfully ending in just a little bit of her coffee sloshing onto her hand.]

Shit. Sorry.

This ice is ridiculous.

D is also the correct answer.

[ Wait. Are there supposed to be "correct" answers to these things? Oh well, her quiz, so she makes the rules. ]

I still have a few bottles I've yet to open, yes. [ Short, quiet chuckling. ] Are you a fellow wine enthusiast?

( ok, sure, he'll answer the phone. but not because those damn rules says he has to, but because, after two days trapped in the house with fuckin' jefferson, any company is better than his company. it really speaks to his self-control and benevolence that he hasn't killed jefferson yet.

so, it's a pleasant surprise though to hear the breathy, feminine voice on the other end. howard's body immediately changes — the tenseness in his shoulders flows away, his dark eyes brighten, and his mouth slides in to a grin. even through the speaker and telephone wires, the wink and smile is clear in his voice. the honeyed warmth of his tone could probably melt the growing snow and calm the howling winds outside.

well, hello there. ) Depends on the company.

Phew. Didn't think I'd pass this pop quiz.

[Skye smiled at her own lame joke of course.]

Uh, not really? But I mean, alcohol is alcohol. Feel like having an unwanted house guest?

[ Amy isn't sure why she left the warm comforts of her home (oh, that's right, there wasn't power at her house anymore, and despite calling the repairman enough times that he recognizes her voice, he's still yet to show up at her house.

Men. All of them completely useless. At least, that's Amy's conclusion. )

By this time in the storm, there's hardly much left that open, most of the shops she passes are completely dark inside, bearing a new sign in the window indicating they'll 'be back soon'. Of all the places in town, she assumes the hardware store is still left open. She has no intention of trying to fix the heat in her house, but Amy hopes that they would have something there she could use to produce some heat.

Firewood, some kind of gas powered heater (if she could manage to even get to a gas station.), she'd even go for huddling around a ton of candles at this point.

Unfortunately, her assumptions are incorrect. The hardware store is closed, which means that she's just trudged through the snow for nothing -- an annoying realization that makes her features harden until the crunching of snow under boots stops just short of where she's standing. ]

It's closed. [ She announces, casting the man next to her a side glance. ]

[ A man answers the phone.

Not just any man, however, but one Amy quickly dubs as 'Cool Guy' in her head. His voice is low and smooth, his words sound effortless (and yet, like they've also been pulled out of a repertoire of phrases titled 'successful ways to get a woman.'), and there's not so much the tone of a friendly smile in his words, as there is a friendly smile in them.

(Yes. There's a difference. And it's one she can hear. ) ]

I find that most unwanted houseguests aren't very good company.

Edited 2017-02-17 13:34 (UTC)

Personality quiz.

[ She corrects. At least there's something that she remembers, she'd written them for magazines once before -- apparently, it takes no real background in understanding what makes up a personality, but rather the skill to come up with 4 witty-yet-relatable options to an assortment of random questions. ]

It all gets you to the same place, some just faster than others. Well, you're no longer an unwanted houseguest if I saying yes.

Option One

[The only thing that Prokopenko knows for sure is that he should be dead. He's not exactly sure where that knowledge comes from. Maybe the reason is that he woke up in a hospital with just barely any recollection of who he is, no idea where he is or if he should be there at all. He's antsy, like something important isn't quite there. Maybe that's how he usually feels. He wanders aimlessly around town, feeling tempted to graffiti vulgarities on every one of those stupid signs he sees everywhere. It makes him angry -- again, he's not sure why, though. Maybe it's just becuase this is all so inconvenient and annoying.

He knows he wants a hit of something but this doesn't seem like the town that has anything even if he was going to go around asking.]

Fucking bullshit. [ The words are only sort of appropriately sulky for how he feels, crossing his arms as he drops down onto a bench outside of one of the restaurants. Maybe he should get some food since it's actually smelling good enough to make him well aware of the fact he's hungry. ]

Option Three

[ There's nothing more boring than the snow and the lack of drugs. He's being taunted by his desire for coke with some other white shit that is not what he wants to snort. He's bundled up, shivering and cursing the stupid weather. There's obviously not much to do out since he's not the only one meandering around the town looking cold as fuck. ]

Hey! Yo. Come over here.

[ He's completely going to try and get someone to lick a telephone pole for the shits and giggles of it. ]

Option Four

What the fuck is with this snow? Go lick a telephone pole.

Wildcard

[ Hit me with something different if you want. Will match styles/tenses. ]

[ It doesn't take long for Noah to become bored with flipping through television channels and skateboarding in front of his own house -- although, when it comes to the latter, it's not so much boredom that stops him, but the same strange unsettling feeling that had been creeping up more and more often. It makes something inside of him coil tightly, bringing on a wave of what he assumes is nausea.

Motion sickness, maybe? Nothing's been quite right since that Accident.

So, where does a 17-year-old go when he's bored? When there's literally only one main street in town (aptly named Main St, of course.) there's very few options, and he's probably on his second trip down it when he hears someone say something, although he doesn't catch what. Perhaps it's meant for someone else, but he's pretty sure he's the only person within hearing distance. ]

Huh? [ He looks around. Nope, he's definitely the only one standing here. ] Were you talking to me?

Option One

[ The first thing that Alfred had tried to do was leave. Of course, it had been an unsuccessful feat and he ended up back right around where he'd started. There is something about this town that makes him feel uneasy, unsettled. His mind feels as if it is filled with empty rooms that should be full of life or something. He's not sure what he is missing, only that many things are gone.

All that he remembers is that he had been in France with Aurora. She had been in a beautiful yellow dress. They were on a clandestine mission and she said his name like she meant something else.

Now that he's back where he started, he looks around. He's already cataloged everything about Main Street, every little detail. He hasn't met anyone but he's heard them, can recognize several distinct voices. Despite that, there is a feeling of being lost. He knows where supposedly, his house is but as he walks in that direction it doesn't give him the feeling or sense of going home. ]

Option Two

Alfred had followed the scream. He kept going even after the sound had died away, he noticed the way forest ground flora was disturbed. There was a fence, the electric buzz made his ears ring sending an uncomfortable sensation through him. He walked just a little further, catching sight of the sign. He felt tired but he stood there a little longer. It was a strange thing.

He doesn't stay too close, he noticed the way his body was feeling drained and his mind tiring quickly so he retreated back. It was a curious thing. It would be hard to find out more in a town like this where everyone was either in the same situation as he or were complicit in whatever this was.

There was a tree close enough that he sank down against it, wondering when his breathing had become labored. Everything about this wall made him feel on edge but the reasons were just out of his grasp, another thing that was unsettling.

Wildcard

[Hit me with your best shot.]

one 〉〉〉

[ Listen. Some people have regular priorities. They worry about shit like getting home to their families or finding a road out of this idyllic M. Night Shyamalan-esque horror town. At the very least, they spend the better part of their long hours in recovery wondering how exactly they got there.

Kavinsky wastes no time with such concerns. Something far more pressing occupies him: the acquisition of mild-altering substances.

Before he's even officially released from the hospital, Kavinsky leaves his bed behind and goes trawling the halls for everything a shitty teenage thief might find interesting. Scalpels get swiped and tucked dangerously into the waistband of his boxers. Mystery pills disappear into his mouth. He picks a half-empty energy drink off the counter of the nurse's station and slurps it while he goes in search of the real treasure, peeking from door to door. There's got to be some oxy around here somewhere. Or a nitrous tank, maybe? ]

two 〉〉〉

[ It sounds like there's some crazy shit going down in the woods. Sane people head in the opposite direction of hideous screaming, generally, which means Kavinsky's walking right towards it. He's not a brave kid, this one. Not stupid, either. He's merely apathetic. His state of well-being did not matter to him when he first woke up in this place and it doesn't matter to him now.

He enters the woods without hesitation or proper hiking equipment, idly wondering if he'll stumble upon a murder scene. That would be cool. A lot cooler than a regular old bear attack or something. He's pretty sure a murder's super likely, though, because most of the citizens here seem brain-damaged in one way or another. Then again, so is he, but at least he hasn't lost his sense of curiosity along with his memories.

Sadly, Kavinsky doesn't find a murder scene or even a disemboweled deer. He finds a big fucking wall. Sure is a lot of wall. For a short while, he walks along the perimeter, thinking he might eventually find a guard tower like the kind they have in prison. Instead, his limbs become wobbly and he starts getting that mooshy roofie feeling. It's not a pleasant sensation at the best of times, and especially not when it's freezing and he's stumbling around in the wilderness.

When he can't hold himself upright anymore, he slurs out a curse and faceplants right into the dirt. ]

wildcard 〉〉〉

( Anything goes. Kavinsky is literal garbage and I'm sorry about that. )

[ Alfred had followed the scream and looked over the wall. He didn't stay close to it long, moving away and toward a tree to rest. However, he sees the teen stumbling around and falling on his face near to him. He sighs to himself. The sense he gets from the kid isn't a particular pleasant one but he can't just leave him on his own either. ]

Do you need some help? [ Alfred questions from his spot sitting against a tree. First things first are to check if he's conscious. He can tell from here that he is still breathing, hearing the slight puffs of breath and seeing the slight movements of his back with each intake and exhale. ]

into the woods;

【 The scream sends a chill down her spine.

two images flash before her eyes, a cold, dark world within a tree, a monster without a face and a name that remains on her tongue, that she wants to scream ( Barb, Barb ).

Nancy knows only that name and that maybe, somehow, Barb is in the woods and she could find her. She arranges her bag on her shoulder and walks in, pushing leaves and twigs out of the way and yelling out for a name she cannot associate with a face.

( this is how you might meet her, a skinny teenage girls, walking and yelling just tat one name ).

Or perhaps you meet her when she reaches the fence, cleaning dirt off her knees and her cheeks ( she has fallen a moment ago, weak, limbs heavy ).

she will fall, once more, when she reaches the signs and she'll frown at them and try to crawl a little closer, trying to throw her bag against the fence. 】

it's a couple of flakes;

【 she has given up on getting her heat back.

instead, Nancy is wrapped in a pale blue wool coat and a scarf, hair pulled behind her in a ponytail, cheeks rosy from the cold.

it doesn't bother her. she remembers something, she realizes, a distorted picture that reminds her why she's doing ok now. she had known a far more terrible cold.

( there it is now. a cold, dark world and she is hiding behind a tree from someone, from something - )

if you're around shoveling, she might try and be social and speak up from where she sits by her window - 】

No one but you is trying, anymore.

network;

【 when she picks up the phone, her voice is trembling.

she steels her nerves and clears her throat but comes out short and ends up with an unsure, 】

Hello?

【 And you might hear a mumbled 'this is bullshit' about 10 seconds late. 】

[ From her vantage point on a nearby bench, Amy had noticed the man trying to leave, watching him follow the one main road out of the town only to end up coming right back up it a few moments later and confusion briefly flashes across her face. The staff at the hospital had warned her about trying to leave, but she'd yet to actually try it herself. She was still acting as the silent observer, playing along with the role of 'obedient townsfolk' until she had figured out exactly what was going on.

Things just didn't feel right, things hadn't felt right since she'd woken up in the hospital a few days prior. Her memories felt... incomplete, like there were giant pieces missing from them and the more questions that she asked, the less answers she received. It frustrated her, made her blood start to boil. If she wanted answers she'd have to get them herself.

So, she gets up from her spot on the bench and follows after the man, eventually catching up until he's only a few steps behind him. ] Excuse me, [ Her voice is soft. Gentle, even. And the touch that lands on his shoulder is even softer. ] what was down that road?

Option 1: In town
Dom's sitting at a table by the window in Java Joe's, a hot Americano and a scone in front of her, watching the passersby outside. Looking for—something. Someone. The itch to ask questions, to study, to investigate—it never stops. It's annoying, but it's also comfortable. It's as if it's the thing she was always meant to do.

Maybe she was a journalist. Or a detective. Or just a nosy bitch all up in everyone's business all the time; anything's possible.

As people come into the shop or pass her table, she glances up at them, occasionally meeting their gaze just a little too directly—as if they're someone she knows. Which she doesn't. It's another thing she can't seem to stop doing.

Option 2: Into the woods

When she heard the scream, Dom's hand went instantly to the place where a gun shoulder holster would be—a reflex as smooth and unthinking as an eyeblink. She'd think about that more, but the urge to see if someone's in trouble is stronger.

Now here she is lying in the ground, barely able to lift her head. That's what you get for following some random-ass boot prints, she thinks. She scrabbles a little in the dirt, trying to scoot herself backward. Maybe if she goes back the way she came, she'll be okay.

[Option one]

[Kenzi hates hospitals. Like, hates them. You don't even understand. Waking up in a hospital bed with no idea what got her there is probably number three on her top ten list of worst fears, preceded only by waking up in a coffin or being forced to sit through an entire Carrie Underwood concert wearing pink cowboy boots and a denim skirt. What? It could happen! And that possibility, however slim, is downright horrifying.

Getting the frick away from that place had been priority number one, and she'd accomplished it fairly quickly. Now, instead of being in a scary hospital with zero idea how she got there, she was in some kind of charming, quaint, CREEPY town with zero idea how to get out. This is not the big city she's used to. Do people actually know each other here? Hi neighbour, can I borrow a cup of sugar? Gross.

The first two people she tried to interrogate were completely useless and sufficiently creepy. The sign they pointed her in the direction of was even creepier, so nothing's really sitting right with her at the moment.

She knows she should call someone, but ... can't quite remember who? Someone important. Whenever she tries to picture the face, all she can see is some fuzzy, fragmented image, kind of like those pixelated faces on COPS when they don't sign the consent form. Shit. Maybe the third time'll be the charm.

Kenzi stomps over to the nearest person and shouts,]

HEY! You, with the face! Any chance you know where the bus station is?!

[Option Two]

[Screams in horror movies are usually a clue that you should run the other way. Despite Kenzi's extensive horror movie knowledge, she makes the biggest mistake a young, super attractive, non-blonde heroine can make. She runs TOWARDS the scream! Idiot. Nice move, Kenzi. Way to let your stupid moral compass make the decisions before your self preservation kicks him. Wow.

She's mentally kicking herself as soon as she gets through the treeline, moving cautiously over twigs and rocks and all kinds of nature junk. No sign of a massacre.]

Hello? ... If this is some kind of hunting accident, Please do not shoot me. I'm not a deer!

[Deer don't talk. This isn't Disney. She holds her hands up defensively just in case, you never know what's hiding behind the trees.]

Also, if you're a bear or a wolf, do not even think about eating me! I'm way too cute to be a substantial meal!

[What? Doesn't hurt to believe in the possibility that wildlife understands human speech! Okay, she's panicking, shut up. This was a mistake, but she's gonna keep going for a while. Nothing better to do in town.

Oh, and... right, also someone might be hurt or dying. That's also a legit reason. Whatevs.]

Edited 2017-02-17 21:17 (UTC)

option two.

[ the scream sends a spike of fear through her. it's so loud. too loud. in fact, everything feels louder than it should, feel brighter, smells stronger. everything feels more and she doesn't know why. but that sound cuts through the trees and she whips her head towards the direction it came (or thinks it came).

there's a little voice that tells her to walk away, not to go, to avoid danger. it's a voice she once to trusted, at least she used to. however, a bigger voice tells her to go, to help, to find out what it was since the other people in the town aren't being helpful. someone could need help. someone could be hurt.

she cuts through the forest, getting deeper before she calls out--] Hello? Is anyone out there? Are you okay? [ she doesn't pay attention to where she's going and she scratches her arm, wincing and sucking in a sharp breath as she looks down at the blood on her arm.

normally? caroline's the sort to shy away from blood but for some reason, she feels drawn to looking at it. in fact, she feels her stomach twist, in hunger, not nausea. she licks her lips for a moment before she shakes her head, brow furrowed. and normally? she'd have focused on that feeling if it weren't for the fact that the gash on her arm slowly started to close, flesh and skin threading back together before her eyes. ]

What-- [ the vampire who forgot she's a vampire gasps out loud.]

option four.

[ caroline's in her home, settled because... she's always been here, right? it's been her home for a while now, right? and yet...]

Is there something going around? A flu maybe? I feel sort of... off. [ she murmurs.] Maybe it's a migraine. [ what with the light and sound sensitivity she's experiencing. except she can't seem to stop eating, as in all-you-can-eat-buffet appetite. and nothing helps.]

[What could possibly be unpleasant about Joseph Kavinsky? He's just a skinny little boy with a mouth full of dirt. He is still breathing, but he's also not moving much. Like a cat when someone's thrown a blanket over it. The fight is lost. He accepts his fate.

Who the fuck is talking to him? He'd thought he was alone.]

Nah, man.

[He doesn't lift his head to speak, so the sound's a bit muffled. His tone is cheerful, regardless of the circumstances.]

I just thought I'd have a nap, you know. Drown in some mud. Some people pay good money for this.

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