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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[ a: network ]

[ He hasn't had very much luck with the network. And not just because the whole telephone thing is new and strange to him, no, it hadn't taken him that long to pick up on. The trouble is that it doesn't work for him. One has to have a voice for a phone to work. He even tried pressing buttons for a while, as he'd gathered that pressing buttons makes a loud, annoying tone in the other end — but that didn't work either. The Witness has always sucked noises out of the area around him, and this phone is no exception.

This wouldn't really be a problem, he'd usually be happy to ignore something so useless to him. But today is special. Today he has a feud that needs settling.

So instead he's on the hunt. He's taken to the streets, and this orange-eyed intensely staring man with the scarf pulled up to his nose will approach anyone who makes eye contact for a second — or even anyone who won't, for that matter. Anyone who attempts to ignore him will get fingers snapping in their face for attention — not that that it makes any sound, but the action is clear enough. He wants something. From you, specifically. Care to humor a stranger? ]

[ b: the fence ]

[ Now here's something interesting. It's not pleasant, but it's interesting. He's never felt something drain energy from him so thoroughly like this.

The wise thing to do would probably be to back away as soon as he'd realized what the cause of his weakness is. But the fact is, the Witness doesn't often get to experience new things. So instead he heads toward it. He heads toward it even when he begins to feel weak, even when he wants to fall to his knees and just stay there. Even when it forces him to a standstill, he still doesn't back away. No, he prefers to stand as still as he's able to, gathering will and reserves, and finally lurch one more step forward.

It's slow going. He's gone from a slow but steady walk, to a lurch forward every few seconds, to one every five minutes or so. But he's still standing, and for some god forsaken reason, he's still inching forward. He could probably use company. Or at least someone to make a case against this unfortunate impulse of his. ]

[ c: the snow ]

[ He's been walking out in the snow for long enough at this point that some kindly soul in a coffee shop ran outside and pressed one of their buy-one-get-one hot cocoas into his hands. At first he'd been deeply irritated, sure that this was some kind of cruel joke. And, honestly, he's still deeply irritated and sure it was some kind of a cruel joke. But he'd also quickly learned that the warm cup is pretty pleasant to hang onto.

So now he's turned into a lone figure walking through the snow, clutching a completely untouched cup of hot cocoa. He's as silent as a reflection while he's at it, with not even his footsteps crunching snow underfoot, no matter how deep the snow or how crunchy the ice happens to be underfoot. ]

[Well, this is interesting. Usually Mal is the one walking up to random strangers on the street and curiously harassing them. Hello, friend. She gives Scarfs McSilent a quizzical look.]

Hallo. Get your fingers out of my face, please, if you want to keep them. How may I be of service?

[ He does get his fingers out of her face, but only because he'd only needed them there for attention. Now having that, he immediately digs his hand into a pocket and returns with a notepad and holds it out for her to read. There's already a message scrawled on it, in decidedly beautiful, looping handwriting: ]

I need your help. Where is the nearest phone?

[Oh. Well, all right then. She perks up a little.]

Is that all? I think there's one at the diner. Who're you calling?

[Indulge her nosiness. This is the toll.]

[ He takes back the pad to write, and has it out almost in an instant: ]

Maureen.

[ He writes it extra hard, with narrowed eyes, then underlines it a few times viciously for good measure. He and Maureen are probably not on very good terms. That done he wheels to head for the diner, clearly expecting to be followed. ]

[Ah, they're going this way now. She follows after, leaning over his shoulder to see if he's writing anything else as they walk.]

What's Maureen done to you? [She's . . . pretty gleeful about this.]

[ That potent glare lands on his new company for a moment, but it isn't meant for her. This is all for Maureen, baby. He's scrawling harshly in a moment more (don't worry, his writing is still beautiful, even in rage). ]

Plenty. She masquerades under a cheerful veneer but don't let it fool you, I'm sure she's the worst one I've met here so far.

[ And he may be quick with a pen, but not that quick. By the time he finishes it's time to shove into the diner itself, and apparently that's all the storytime she gets. He hesitates just inside, not sure where to look to find a phone. ]

[This is so juicy, holy shit. She lucked into some weird gossip.]

I'll tell you where it is if you tell me what she did.

[eyezooms]

[ though not normally one to ignore someone in obvious need, nina had unfortunately been a little too distracted to notice the man's initial attempts for her attention. crouching on the ground, she had been quietly mesmerized by the slowly gathering pile of snowflakes pooling in the palm of her hands, both of which she holds out no more than a few inches from her face.

it's the snapping that finally garners her attention. she jerks slightly in her spot, hands falling down and behind her almost guiltily, as if caught doing something she shouldn't have been doing. ]

—Hello.

[ to her credit, she remembers her manners quite easily. ]

Can I help you?

[ there's something almost... professional about the way she speaks and carries herself, despite her very obvious youth. ]

Edited 2017-02-21 15:24 (UTC)

[ Good, he has her attention. Immediately he takes a step back, impatience written all over his stance and irritation already in his furrowed brow. And just in case the intent isn't clear, he crooks a beckoning finger after him: a universal c'mere. ]

[ Adra's not a physically robust man on his best days. He'd heard the scream and dashed towards it, ever intent on helping, but he'd only found himself face-to-face with this fence--and with a terrible, growing feeling of enervation. The impulse to keep going wars with the impulse to collapse, but the former logic wins out--he can't solve any mysteries if he's unconscious (or worse). Besides which, he feels more than exhausted; he feels his magic weakening, waning. That alone is enough to drive him back.

As he's forcing himself back, he comes across someone else doing the opposite. He can't know if this was the source of the scream, but this person looks like he needs help, anyway. ]

Hey. Quit that.

[ Nailed it. ]

[ He doesn't even notice he has company at first, which is unusual. It must be the distraction of all this exertion. His eyes snap over to Adra and for a moment he just stares, scowling. Who the heck is this guy, to just show up and start giving orders? With steady eye contact he very purposefully takes a firm (but slightly wavering) step forward. ]

[ Adra looks unimpressed. ]

Do you make a habit of acting against your own best interest, or is today a special day?

[ That's not a yes or no question, and writing seems like a little too much to bother with at just the moment. The easiest answer he can think of to convey his general feelings on the situation is the one he makes: a shooing motion done with a hand that drops again almost immediately after. To prove that he's perfectly fine going on alone he takes another step forward.

Two steps in such a short time proves to be a little much, though, and that's when he finally goes down on one knee with a shudder.

...Maybe this is a bad idea. ]

[ Adra rolls his eyes. ]

Are you done?

[ Yeah, okay, he thinks he is done. For now. He gives it a few seconds, takes a deep breath, and hauls himself back up to his feet. It's with a small step backwards, which is the easiest step he's taken in, what, half an hour? His scowl only looks more irritated, though. This stupid fence.

He drops a hand into his pocket, fishes up a small notepad and pen, and scrawls a quick note. He holds it out to be read without actually glancing over at Adra, and in beautiful, looping handwriting: ] Do you know what's over there?

[ A mute, huh. Can't talk, or won't talk? He guesses the former; writing is too much extra effort otherwise. He leans on his staff like it's a walking cane, shrugging. ]

Certain death, near as I can tell. Whatever's behind it obviously wants us to stay away.

[ Come on, that's a shitty answer. His brows furrow as he stares toward it. He'd like to start forward again... but, honestly, he's only just arrived here. Maybe when he's bored of whatever else is around here he'll be back to pick at this mystery.

His shoulders rise and then fall in a completely silent sigh, and he finally turns around completely to begin a trudge away from the fence, back the way he'd come. Even his footsteps in the snow are silent as they go. ]

[Conveniently, the most melts more rapidly around her than a typical person, which means she can march through without much of a concern or care. Shyvana may look slightly out of place, what with the not-entirely-human appearance and all, but undoubtedly this stranger may not end up caring.

The stranger, who looks frail, quiet, and introspective, is alone. Shyvana supposes it might be best to interact a bit, albeit she is aware that her social graces are not her best features.

So, taking in a breath, she marches forward before pointing a claw out.]

You there! You look miserable.

[Nailed it.]

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