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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[ Sam is utterly captivated.

He was going stir-crazy in his little house that he can't recall, its layout which is entirely unfamiliar. The clothes that look like they should belong to him feel like a stranger's when he puts them on. He can't shake the sense of wearing someone else's skin, which is part of what drove him outside.

Just in time to see those red lights start to dance.

It's her sudden motion that snaps him out of his own trance, though not so far that there isn't awe on his face. ]

That's... How did you do that?

[ They aren't supposed to see. That's what she's been told. Because it's too dangerous and the damage that could come from her curse could result in unspeakable consequences. And yet she always forgets, always has the instinct to let the magic slip out from her fingertips, to let it flow free as she's felt in her own dreams.

But this isn't a dream. It isn't allowed here. But she's been seen.

Immediately, her hand drops which in turns results in the disintegration of the red light, letting the balled up snow fall instantly back into the pile on the ground with a soft crumble. ] I didn't do anything. [ Her hands fall to her sides, fingers gripping the edges of her jacket as she looks away. ]

[ He falters at that. He was so sure--

But then he's met people who can change shape, who talk about the moon being a supercomputer and Holy Grail Wars and he's not sure what's real any more.

He steps a little closer, looking around now like he's not sure they aren't being watched. ]

Sorry, I didn't mean to... I wasn't trying to.... It's just, it was beautiful.

[ A hot lance of temper strikes him. He draws in a breath to condemn this place and how paranoid it's made him feel, but he lets it go with a long exhalation. It won't do him any good in this moment. It won't do her any good either. ]

Never mind. I must have imagined it. I've been imagining plenty of other things, lately.

[ He offers her a hand. ] Sam Seaborn. I'm told I'm a lawyer, which feels right, and that I do tax law, which feels boring, but there we are.

[ Beautiful. No one has ever used those words. Because it isn't supposed to be. After all, a witch is what they've called her and witches were only meant to burn, a curse living amongst ordinary men. Hearing such a contradictory word now, it makes her chest tighten now, like she isn't meant to believe such a lie. ]

The sun and the snow, it can play tricks on your eyes with the light. [ Probably not such a believable statement, not with the sort of red that had come from her hands, not with the way the snow had floated there for a long moment on its own.

But she knows better than to admit the truth.

He holds out his hand and she gazes at it for a long pause. She's been locked away for so long, she's almost forgotten what it is to meet strangers. Eventually she reaches out with a slow hand to shake it. ] Wanda. [ It's alright to say her name, isn't it? ] Do you always choose to do boring things, Mr. Lawyer?

Mr. Seaborn. [ It's a cheerful contradiction. ] But call me Sam. No, I'm pretty sure I would choose to work for the President if I had the opportunity, because that's what I remember doing, but I keep getting laughed at whenever I bring it up.

[ There's another flicker of temper at that, but he's still smiling. He is, after all, a lawyer. How good would he be if he couldn't stay cheerful through outrage? ] What about you? What do you do?

You have confidence in your government then. [ It's a bit of a disgusted thought for whatever reason. Her memory remains a distorted thing, but somehow she's well aware that her approval for this country isn't at its highest.

She tries to keep her tone neutral but a bit of her feelings still leak through her voice.

When he asks about her, she stills, fingers wrapping around her wrist with a deep breath. ] I look for lawyers to discuss politics. [ She tilts her head with a raised brow before shaking her head. ] I ... am a student.

Well... yes. [ He's oddly confused and, even more oddly, hurt by her tone, and he can't put his finger on why. It's ridiculous. He knows it is. Isn't it?

Except it's his administration, or not his, but the one he's a part of.

Unless the whole thing is a trick of the mind.

He shakes his head, shoving that aside. There's more that isn't right here. The way she moves, the way she seems to brace herself every time she makes a statement. He can't help it. There's an inkling of worry for her rooting itself in his mind.] Student of what? If... you don't mind my asking.

That is quite rare. I don't know many people that do. [ Though she doesn't know many people to begin with. Or rather, she doesn't remember so many. But she can recall dissatisfaction. She can recall riots, signs held high and angry voices shouting at men in uniforms. Somehow, she gets the sense that it all ties together.

Her continued pauses of silence come as a result of needing to think, to process the memories that aren't in any sorted order. In her mind are images of floating blocks, blocks that come together to collide to form peculiar jagged shapes. ]

Sculpture. I work with my hands. [ Because in her mind, she sees her fingers constantly in motion, swaying back and forth as if trying to shape something together. ]

Well, with a local government like this-- [ He raises his voice at that part, though only briefly. He's angry, not... entirely stupid. ] I can't imagine why.

[ Works with her hands. His thoughts skip to that red light, the way her fingers moved as it did, and his scalp prickles with something that he writes off as the weather.

Seeing things.

He looks at the spot where the snowball landed and steps close enough to her that he can whisper, can hide his face from anyone who might be inclined to spy. ]

Was it really a trick of the light? You don't have to say out loud, just... shrug, if it wasn't.

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