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.

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[Excuse me? She was reading that. She gives him a look that says: "rude," then shrugs a little and points at the book.]

What's that for? There's no farms and things here. Not a horse in sight.

It's a bright, clear day, and Steve has to shield his eyes with a hand to look up at the roof. Not that it isn't unmistakably Sam — Steve had come here to pick him up, but now with only the sky as his backdrop the thoughts of leaning on the harried nursing staff for a room number becomes moot. After a second or two he drops his hand as his eyes adjust to the sun's glare off the building.

"Gonna need your wings for that," he calls up to him. He's not worried, not really — there's too much of that surveying lean in his posture over the edge, acutely familiar to Steve. Sam's well aware of his own mortality and has never been afraid to make a point of it. But he won't have much to go on right now either. Steve's jumped from plenty of heights without a parachute himself, and Sam — Sam's always had more of the same stuff in him than he's ever been willing to cop to. So if he's only trying to remember, it doesn't hurt to mention that the parachute exists.

Does it matter?

[He narrows his eyes, slowly cracking the book back open. Truth be told, the question is plaguing him just as much--this odd fascination with horses is inexplicable, and it bothers him that things are inexplicable. Actually, everything this past week has been bothering him, but this is small enough to focus on without losing his mind.]

Before you answer, I'll just tell you: no, it doesn't matter.

[Her brow furrows. That's such a stupid question.]

Yes, actually. It doesn't. Everything matters. What people do is significant. If you're doing something for no reason, maybe you're crazy.

[Ah. Tact.]

[Izumi vaguely recognizes the guy on the other side of the door—and boy, is he a sorry sight. Just looking at Johnny makes him feel colder, and he has to suppress a shiver in spite of the coat he's wearing. The wind whipping about outside and stealing warmth from the hallway doesn't help.

This poor guy.]

I think I do. [Heck, Johnny can take them all. This is too sad. Izumi takes a step back, in part to turn around and in another part to allow Johnny some room.] Do you want to come in while I grab them? It might take a while—I have to remember where I saw them last.

[Please don't die on his doorstep.]

I'm not saying I'm doing it for no reason; I'm saying that it ain't necessary for you to know the reason.

[The squinting turns into a full-out glare. Tact? What's that?]

I just like horses, alright? Near as I can tell, there's not a police academy in town, so I'm curious as to why you're interrogating me on a fucking book. If that's the logic we're going by, I mean.

Because I want to know why you're reading it.

[That's it. That's the whole reason. She rests her chin on her hand and looks at him thoughtfully.]

Why are you so upset about it?

Yeah--um. Thanks. I don't wanna put you into any trouble, but really--it's fuckin' cold.

[Johnny wheels inside once given some room to move, gently pushing the door closed behind him. Inside, it's even more apparent that he's freezing as he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket to cough into, watching Izumi with an oddly cautious eye.]

D'you know how long the snow's supposed to last?

[He hates small talk, but this at least is relevant and has a purpose.]

I only just figured out how the fireplace works, but...yeah. No matches. Hope it warms up soon, because Jesus, it's awful out there.

I ain't upset. I'm just annoyed that someone thinks it's fun to nose into my business for no reason--which, sure, you gave me a reason, technically, but it was a shitty reason, and therefore not a reason at all.

[He waves at the waitress for another coffee.]

I told you. I like horses.

"Yeah, I heard them. Everyone else was going on like nothing was happening." So far, she's the first person he's come across that actually admits to hearing them, too.

He gestures toward the top of the tree, and then toward the wall. "Let me know if you see anything." If she can't get high enough to get a look, he's going to head toward the fence to see what it's doing there. Keeping something out, or in? And is the fence the reason he's starting to feel like shit, or is there something else out here causing that effect? Who knows. That's what he's here to figure out.

[He frowns as he actually takes the time to think about her question. He doesn't know her, so why is it any of his concern whether or not she's stuck here? If he walked away, would he be okay with that?

No. As hard as he tries, he can't make himself turn around and leave her. The sentiment seems at odds with some of the other more violent images swirling around in the mire of his brain. He doesn't know his name, but he knows for a fact that he can't just leave her to the mercy of doctors. Who knows what they're doing to her, here.

He snorts.] I don't know. Do you want to get out of here, or not?

Edited (i can words) 2017-03-23 01:22 (UTC)

[Regardless of the look Johnny casts his way, Izumi meets his eyes for all of a split second before heading down the hall. He gestures to the nearest room where the wall opens without stopping, mirth in his voice.]

I'm not sure when the snow's going to stop, but you can wait over here. The living room's the warmest place in the house. Just thinking about outside makes me feel cold!

[Unlike his neighbor, Izumi's power is still functioning, and he knows how to work the heater. But he doesn't stop to bask in the sweet warmth just yet. His own destination is the closet farther down the hall, where he digs through boxes of supplies to find the matches, shouting the while to be heard.]

You said you have a fireplace, but what about your heater?

[ Kate has plenty of visitors stroll into the shop and throw a pick-up line or two in her direction. Tossing some Hall & Oates lyrics at her is probably a first. As soon as he says it, she's rolling her eyes, scoffing despite the amusement expressed in a subtle grin. Too cheesy.

Badly pretending that he didn't just try that on her, she glances back down at her arrangement of records, flipping through them. ]

And it might be hard to handle. [ Yeah, well, she can throw lyrics right back at him! ]

He can see the logic in that plan, even if he doesn't like it. It would be better if he had his wings, Sam thinks to himself. Though he'd need to be above the treeline, of course; it would still make this search a lot easier.

Sam knows people well enough to see the hesitation, though he's not sure if it's because Randel doesn't want to elaborate, or because he doesn't remember enough to be able to do so. If they weren't on a mad dash through the woods to find the source of the screams they'd heard, he might prod a bit more. Helping combat vets is what he does, and he makes a mental note to maybe talk to Randel once they're out of the woods, since the guy has obviously seen his fair share of shit, if those scars are anything to go by.

"Fair enough. Just don't go doing anything unnecessarily stupid and heroic." Wow, does that sound familiar.

[Rohan being Rohan, he does not come to the door wearing the most amicable of expressions. It's late and it's cold and people knocking on his door aren't really welcome most of the time, but especially not right now. But he opens the door regardless, if only to get rid of this problem quickly, however, something Johnny says quickly changes his mind.]

Wait, did you say "Joestar?"

[He heard the rest, he promises. This is just the only part he cares about at the moment.]

The only way Al Green is jumping out of me is if you get him drunk on karaoke night. And even then, I can't make any promises about the sound quality.

[So maybe he used to sing in the church choir, but that was only out of obligation to his dad, and it was a long time ago.

Sam is old enough to remember vinyl and 8-tracks, but he mostly grew up with cassettes and CDs. Girl, how old are you?] Kinda hard to stick with vinyl when you're in the middle of the desert, and all you got is what you can carry on your back. An iPod is an airman's best friend, when it comes to music.

The voice from below snaps him out of his thoughts as several puzzle pieces seem to fit together all at once. He knows that voice, and he knows that face. Steve - Captain America - The Avengers. They're friends and teammates. Steve even busted him out of superhero jail. He remembers, now... some of it, anyways. It's still kind of fragmented and fuzzy.

"Think I might've left them on the Raft," he shouts back, surprised at the words even as they come out of his mouth. The Raft. His wings. He hadn't been sure before. He thought he might have been crazy for thinking he could fly, vivid memories of it or not.

"I don't do heroic," and yeah, Sam can probably hear the self-hatred in that answer even while he's pre-occupied; Randel's not particularly subtle in that respect and the fact that he's got some serious 'battle fatigue' probably won't stay hidden long. But-

"I'll try my best on 'unnecessarily stupid', though."

A sigh, because he's not seeing or hearing anything useful but his instincts are still telling him something is wrong. More wrong than the rest of this place.

"Why'd you pick this way?"

"That's what it takes, sometimes," Sam agrees. As a councilor in a VA hospital and a vet himself, he would know. You can't help people with their shit unless you have most of your shit together, yourself.

He stops when he hears Sam stumble, and starts moving again, once he's sure the other can keep going.

"It's hard to tell. The trees are dense enough that we could have passed them up, but I haven't heard anything since we started in. Have you?"

"You're gonna jump in front of danger," he quips, still easily keeping pace with Randel. "What's that, if it isn't heroic?" And, okay, here we go, session on the run.

Sam isn't spotting anything useful here, either; but he is definitely starting to feel something, like his muscles are straining way too soon.

"It seemed as good as any other way, man, I don't know. You agreed."

"Guilt," is what he says back, and if he was a harsher sort of person, it might even sound like he's shutting down the conversation. As it is, he just sounds matter-of-fact. He breathes out a sigh as his hand drops from his hip.

"And I thought maybe you heard something, saw something. I'm getting nothing."

But he shifts his shoulder, rolling it in the joint, absent, like he's not even quite aware he's doing it.

Why?

[And what she really means is: what do you like about them? But at least she does clarify a little, this time. She's interested in his perspective, even if she's shit at expressing it.]

The only horse I ever met was a real bastard. [Her brow furrows. The memory is--weird.] At least I'm pretty sure he was.

Oh, excellent. Someone with sense.

"Right." Aloy gives a nod and clambers up expertly through the tree. Unfortunately, the higher branches are not as strong as she'd like them to be, and she's forced to come down again, dropping to the earth. She shakes her head. "I can't get high enough to see much of anything," she reports. "It won't hold my weight. If there's a bigger tree around here, then maybe."

Maybe. She hasn't seen one.

[Johnny navigates after him carefully, eyes scanning every inch of the hallway for possible...well, for possible what, he's not sure. He hates intruding like this--it feels socially wrong, even when he's been invited in, and just plain uncomfortable even when the more general anxiety has ebbed. He has no reason not to trust his neighbor, and that only frustrates him more.

He wheels himself into the living room, allowing himself a moment to relax in the warmth, having barely registered how cold he really was until he understood how warm he was supposed to be. Thank God and Jesus and the Holy Ghost for thermostats, he thinks, only somewhat understanding what a thermostat is.]

Damn thing's been broken all week. Guess this is what happens when you put too much faith in electricity, huh? Fireplaces are warmer, anyways--I've got a shit-ton of firewood out back, but no matches, which is still stupid.

[Johnny's already primed and ready to deal with this guy's shitty attitude--judging solely off of Rohan's sour expression--but he's unprepared for the question he's asked. Vacantly, he wonders if this weirdo knows his dad, which would explain knowing the Joestar name but not Johnny himself. It seems plausible enough.]

Yeah. Johnny, like I said. Have I met you before, or somethin'?

[His hands twist uncomfortably in his lap as he narrows his eyes up at Rohan.]

Listen, all I need are some matches, okay?

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