the pines mods. (
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bumfuckidaho2017-02-16 04:11 am
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TEST DRIVE MEME, FEBRUARY 2017.

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.
Grace :: OUAT :: Option 1
[ooc: Feel free to run into her in the hospital or anywhere in town or in the forest. She is wondering around and looking lost.]
no subject
Sometimes, he wonder if he should perhaps go back to therapy. But what if that ends in him being locked up? So, for now, he passes his time in the tea shop, doing his best to focus on mundane little tasks.
He's in the middle of wiping down a table when some movement catches his eye, just outside the shop window. A white gown, a little girl, a face that...
Jefferson stares at her as she walks past, eyes wide as he can feel that familiar ache in his heart-- loss of somebody he can't remember, some daughter he's been told he never had.
Right. He doesn't have a daughter. He doesn't. That's not her; that's just a child who's alone and wandering and no, no he can't leave her to wander, whoever she is. He drops the dish cloth down on the table and quickly rushes out of the shop to call after her, ask her if she's all right and where her parents are and if she needs any help-- ]
Grace!
[ That's not what he meant to say-- it's as if it's automatic, like a reflex. But as soon as he says it, it all makes sense. That's her name. That's Grace. That's...
Oh god, how could he have forgotten her name until now? ]
no subject
Is that my name?
[She asks in a small voice, looking up at the familiar man as if he was her savior, her light... her father? She can't remember. Darkness presses against her thoughts as she tries and she can only find a void where her memories might have once been.
Her throat tightens and her heart aches. Grace doesn't understand the feeling; it's complicated. Tears dot the corner of her eyes as she stares at Jefferson, trying to remember his name, who he is. It feels as if it is more important to know his name than her own.
Before Grace is able to think she's running towards him, wrapping her arms around his waist while silent tears began to streak down her soft cheeks. She knows know his name but her heart knows him and she doesn't want to leave his side.]
Please don't go. [She begs softly, listening to the voice in her heart that remembers one thing: love.]
no subject
It doesn't make a whole lot of sense to him, but it feels as real as every other strange and contradictory thing he's remembered.
She doesn't know her name. (It's just like before.) Jefferson's trying to hold back the tears, though they prickle and sting a little in his eyes, but though every instinct tells him to go run away with his tail between his legs (coward that he is), he holds his ground and nods. ]
Yes. Grace. That's... [ He pauses to compose himself, to keep his voice from breaking. ] That's your name.
[ He looks at her like he's trying to will her to remember. (Please. Please remember me this time.) He tries to keep it together. But as soon as she's closing the distance between him-- always braver than he ever was-- and her arms pull him into a hug, Jefferson can't help the sob of relief or the tears that follow. It's like all the tension has left his body, and he sinks down to wrap his arms around her properly, his heart breaking once again at her plea.
He left her once before. Sent her to the neighbors and said he'd be back in time for tea. And then he never returned...
Jefferson presses a kiss to her forehead and shuts his eyes. ]
Never. I'll never leave you again, my Grace.
no subject
Grace buries her head against the comforting curve of his shoulder and neck. She doesn't remember him, not completely, she remembers a feeling. A feeling that belongs to him and no one else. It hurts but it's happy too. It's confusing, contradicting, but Grace knows, above all else, that she loves him.
The tears won't stop as he pulls back to lightly kiss her forehead. Her eyes are puffy, her nose and cheeks red as she tries to force her crying to end.]
I can't remember. [Her voice sounds small and choked.] I love you... but I can't remember it.
[Grace feels her heart breaking with her admission and she clings to him, praying that he won't leave her. Not again... again... he's left her before.]
Please don't be sad.
[She'll be a good girl so please don't leave.]
no subject
They lived in a cottage together, on the outskirts of a small village-- No. He lived in a mansion, alone, because he had no family. That can't be right, either. He knows Grace is his daughter, but he also knows there's a little girl named Paige, with a different mother and father. He would watch them...
But this is Grace. She's right here, and she's trying to be strong for him, when it should be the other way around. He's the father; he's supposed to be the strong one here. Jefferson smiles, bittersweet because he wants to feel nothing but joy, but the plea in her voice is like that of a child, once abandoned, who expects it to happen again. He reaches up to wipe at her tears with the sleeve of his shirt, taking a steadying breath to stop his own crying. ]
I'm not sad. I'm happy-- happier than I can ever remember. [ Jefferson touches her cheek, as if he can't believe she's actually, really here. His daughter, looking so much like him and her mother. He can scarcely remember her, isn't even sure what her name was, but he can see her in Grace all the same. ] It's cold out here. We'll go inside, and I'll make you some tea to warm up.
[ She may not remember him or their life together, but that's fine. He can scarcely remember it, himself, beyond this and that scattered memory. They can put the pieces back together with one another. ]
no subject
Her hand reaches for his, appearing small in his palm as he wipes away her tears. She sniffs once using the gesture to steel her emotions inside of her. When she feels ready she nods her head, wondering why it is that this feel so familiar.]
I would like that. [Tea. There is something familiar in the word and Grace gets the impression that something is missing though it doesn't feel important enough to mention.
Grace follows him inside but as he goes to make tea she'll continue to stick to him like a baby duckling. The feeling to stay close to him is all she can recognize and she doesn't want to lose it. Everything else felt so fuzzy and so unsure.]
no subject
For now, he flips the sign on the front door to Closed and goes about preparing some tea for her. That Grace chooses to stick close to him, even inside, isn't a problem in the least. He casts her little smiles as he gets everything together, tells her to pick out anything from the display case of baked goods-- scones, tarts, pastries-- and sets a table: cups and saucers, a pot of lightly spiced herbal tea, a bowl of sugar cubes, a plate with lemon slices, some jam, clotted cream, butter for just in case she wants pastries... Perhaps Jefferson's overdoing it, but he doesn't care.
He doesn't remember the details of their life in poverty, really, but he knows in his heart that this is the first time he's ever had an abundance to share with his daughter. He wants it to count. It has to, to even begin making up for his abandonment of her, the circumstances of which he can't even recall. Once it's all set up, the two of them seated together, Jefferson speaks up again, somewhat hesitant and uncertain. ]
Do you remember anything at all? [ Gently, he adds: ] Not about us, or me, but... Anything, no matter how small.
no subject
Thank you.
[Grace sets to work the moment that Jefferson starts giving her things to do. She sets the table as if she's done it a hundred times before. She pulls a few chairs up to the table and then pauses to look at the set up quizzically. She doesn't remember why but she's placed seats for her stuffed animals. After a few moments of staring she turns towards the pastries and grabs a small fruit tart from the case. Yes, they hadn't had much but Grace has never asked or wanted much. Those desires, while forgetting their source, continued to be a part of her.
With everything set she sits, tugging the blanket a little tighter around her shoulders. She doesn't reach for anything but waits for Jefferson.]
There was... [She pauses and winces before shaking her head.] I think I lived in the woods. [There are trees and... mushrooms? Grace isn't sure.]