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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He spins when he hears her voice, though his movements are graceful and balanced, and there's absolutely no danger of him falling at any point. That fear doesn't even enter his mind.

"Boring. I thought maybe... I don't know. It'd help me remember something."

His eyes narrow as he studies her face. She looks familiar, but he can't place her, and can't bring to mind a name to go with the face. "Do I know you?"

"That answers my next question. 'cause I'm pretty sure I know you." Her smile is a half-hook, a dimpled expression that can't help the irony it usually conveys. "This place seems to have a higher than average number of accidents and amnesiacs."

She offers one hand, the other braced on her hip. "Sharon. If I'm remembering correctly."

Edited 2017-03-30 05:55 (UTC)

She gives him a look. It's not exactly offended, but slightly affronted, perhaps, and she wrinkles her nose. She's faced more dangerous things than a wall, surely.

"It's my Focus," Aloy says. It's hard to know how to describe it; the only people she's really had to explain it to were inclined to see it as magical. "It... lets me see things that are hidden, among other things. I can see the electricity going through it, but I think I'll have to get closer for it to pick up anything more. If it can detect something like this." Which is entirely a possibility. "You can come with me if you want, but I don't see why we both need to risk it."

I'm not breaking anything.

[She pauses.]

Okay, maybe. Not exactly anyway. I'll find a loo-pool. [She hopes.]

That makes things more difficult. Well just tell him my name? It's Clary.

[For some reason she can't remember her last name.]

Let me know what he says?

"Huh," is all he offers at first, as her statements roll around in his head. He doesn't like this uncertainty. He doesn't like not knowing, when he's pretty sure he should know. Stuff like accidents and amnesiacs, he's dealt with before, in the Air Force and afterwards. But it's never applied to him before.

"I'm Sam. Nice to meet you... not for the first time, I think."

Chill the fuck out. What's your problem?

[Logan isn't one to pick up the phone much, and he's especially regretting it now.]

You are my problem — and everyone else making use of this infernal telephone tree. What could possibly be so important that anyone would need to inform every single living soul in town at the same time? And not only once, but three times in one day.

[ Welcome to vitally important petty grievances with Pietro. ]

He gestures; a half-assed measure of indifference, to be sure. It wasn't supposed to be offensive. He'd have made the exact same statement to another man, honestly.

"Focus or not, I can take it. If whatever's out there hits us with something, with electricity, or anything else, let it hit me." Electricity isn't pleasant, especially to him, with the metal running through his body. But he's survived worse.

I don't use the phone. [That's where the calls for fete come in, and he wants nothing to do with that bullshit.] Unluckily enough for me, I picked it up this time, and I get to hear your whiny ass.

Where the fuck is your neighborly spirit?

[He feels more comfortable in anger than in the strange unsettling familiarity that he knows this man, so he embraces it fully.]

You've gotta have some matches, asshole.

Nah, I'll--listen, I at least gotta leave you a few, right?

[Johnny shuffles some matches out of the box and into his hand, occasionally glancing up at the mess spilling into the hallway.]

You might hit some emergency like I did.

[Carefully, he holds out the loose matches to Izumi, looking serious as anything.]

I've never owned one, either. [A matching pause.] Probably.

[Oh, but he remembers riding one--being dragged in the dust by one, making a horse his. But considering the logical cause-and-effect of that reality gives him a headache, so he pushes it out of mind, returning to the book with a slight frown on his face. He hasn't owned a horse, but he also has.]

The second top cause of death is getting kicked by a horse, you know. Second to malaria.

[That sounds patently untrue, but he's convinced. For some reason.]

I would suggest staying away from horses unless you want a new top cause of death.

"I'm not in the habit of letting people get hurt on my behalf," Aloy says, in a low voice. She wishes she had her spear, or her bow, or something a little more substantial than the clothes on her back. "Maybe we can avoid either of us getting hurt. Lead the way."

She switches her Focus back on with a tap of her finger, and gives him a nod.

"Nothing."

He stops, trying to scan their surroundings, adrenaline starting to kick in. He's afraid, he realizes. Afraid because of the scream? No, it's not that broad. He's afraid because he's waiting for something. He's afraid because--

Because he's worried they're about to be shot. Which seems an odd concern, really. Would someone be screaming if they'd been shot? Maybe if they'd been shot somewhere nonvital. But Josh couldn't even--

Sam braces his hands on his knees, tie dangling, feeling like he might puke. There's blood in his memories, a face that he knows. "Oh God."

He closes his eyes and tries to find his way back from whatever it is he's seeing. It's real. It's as real as anything.

Deep breaths. Straightening up. He swallows tightly and wipes his face.

"Sorry. Thought I-- There was-- I remembered something." He licks his lips and sets the memory aside. He's always been good at that, at pushing things off, walling them away in a crisis to be dealt with later. Usually the crises don't involve actual blood. "D'you. D'you know anything about tracking? People? Is that a thing people in the military learn?"

No, not you. [His memories had mostly come back by now (or, at least, so he thought), so he felt like he could say that with confidence. There was nothing familiar about this person.] But I know someone with that name.

[Someone he actually kinda liked. It was an uncommon enough name that even without knowing how they were related, he was intrigued, so he didn't mind helping this guy out.]

I should have some. You can come inside, if you want.

That's true.

[It doesn't hurt to be cautious. Izumi accepts the matches without so much as a glance for the mess he's created. He's long moved on from that part of his life thirty seconds ago.]

You're all set, then? It's still nasty out, but I guess it'd be better to warm your place up as soon as you can.

[Skye's expression gave away that she had no idea what he was referring to before she even said anything.]

Section three operation?

[ He turns his arm to show the patch on one side: a jack-o-lantern with a pair of scissors underneath. ]

Section III of the Imperial Army, Pumpkin Scissors division. Our primary objective is war relief. Working to reverse the damage done to the people caused by the war...

[ A moment to consider that she'd have no idea what he's talking about- ]

Where I come from. The town was called Karusel. The people there had the same kind of look to them. The same fear.

option two

[The prospect of exploring the woods, day or night, does not especially seem like a good idea, but it's a little hard to ignore the scream that he'd just heard. Damon looks on anxiously, chewing on the edge of his thumb as he seriously considers his options, few as they are.

Eventually, he decides the inevitable, and turns to face you.]

We, ah. We should go check it out, right?

Whoever's out there... they're probably scared.

[He doesn't feel especially brave, but his empathy wins out. Quietly, he hopes the same of you, but feel free to stomp on those hopes.]

option three

[Damon can be found standing in the almost-but-not-quite paved street, some of the snow melted around his ankles. He's facing a large scape of freshly fallen snow, about three feet up. With his red eyes narrowed, he's rubbing his chin, as if in deep thought. Whatever he is considering, clearly it must be something immensely important.

Taking in a deep breath, he takes a few steps back, as if preparing himself.

Then he charges forward and leaps into the big fluffy pile of snow with a satisfying WHUMPF. Slowly, the snow around him melts, but he looks please, snorting behind a hand, as if trying to keep himself from laughing.

Scooting back out of the snow, Damon pauses, noticing you nearby, and immediately freezes.]

I, uh.

...I tripped.

[Convincing, isn't it.]

option four

[It's a long period of silence before an uncertain voice with an odd reverberation to his voice says with the confidence of a finch on the ground:]

Uhhh.

...Sorrywrongnumber!

[And immediately you get hung up on.

Amazing.]

[Dio's grip slowly begins to tighten on the handle of his door.]

Leave now while I still allow it.

"No. Not for the first time."

She's not sure how well they know each other. Not well enough for her to trust him on a personal level. But on a professional one, yes.

She holds on to his hand a little too long, a little too firm, studying his face a little too soberly. That's dangerous. She's showing too much, giving too much of her thinking away. And what makes her think that?

Sharon smiles again, the expression slow and natural, enough to make anyone wonder if she was being serious after all. She gives his hand a tiny squeeze before she lets go. Never hurts to make a man feel special.

"But nice to re-meet you, just the same."

[As much information as he's giving her here, Skye is still a bit lost. Still, she gets the gist of it.]

So you really have been through this before...

[She knows it's a risk to talk out in the open, but as long as they're careful enough.]

Did you guys make any progress?

[ The answer to that is difficult, mostly because it had been a complicated situation from the start, the kind of situation only a war like theirs could have produced. Had they made any progress? There's a part of him that wants to say no, but it's the cynical part. The part of him that he likes, the part that he wants to be, had seen that bar owner almost kill himself to apologize for his inaction, had seen the bravery of the barmaid in doing what she could to save the town from bombardment. Had seen the people put down their arms, the mayor give his life, and the people thank them for freeing them from their own fear. ]

I was shot and spent most of the time there delirious from fever. But I think we left it better than it was when we got there.

[ ...things he's not mentioning: that he's the one who took down the main source of fear that was affecting the town, a massive armored train that surrounded it much like the woods and the fence here. He's not mentioning it because he was not at all proud of it, whatever the results. ]

Edited 2017-04-04 15:02 (UTC)

( continued here )

[ There are few things quite so muddying or clarifying as Steve Rogers, so which category he'll end up falling into here is anyone's guess. Especially when there's the question of memories.

For his own part, it's both. There's no real confusion upon seeing her there in the middle of the road. His mind is blessedly free of two sets of conflicting memories, at least for now, so there's just their own short, uneven history up there to contend with.

On the other hand, he has no idea how much Sharon remembers. ]

I didn't know you liked the snow.

[ His voice carries easily over the drift covering the street, light enough to have muffled his own footfalls rather than announcing them with the crunch of snow taking the imprint of his weight. He doesn't think she'll appreciate being snuck up on just the same, though he can't say for certain. There are a great many things he still doesn't know about her. ]

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