bumfuckidaho | TEST DRIVE MEME, APRIL 2017.

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TEST DRIVE MEME, APRIL 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
PTA BAKE SALE

It's that time of year again. The time when everyone digs into their wallet, ignores their diet, and spends a little time supporting the local school bake fair. You know, for the good of the children. And it doesn't hurt that Linda's Blondie recipe is honestly to die for. The school PTA has pulled out all the stops this year in the hopes of encouraging a good community turn out, posters advertising the sale plastering every street corner and stuffed into every mailbox for a solid week leading up to the event, and today is finally the day.

There's at least two dozen different tables set up with all manner of delectable treats, even one or two offering vegan alternatives for those inclined, not to mention a few others catering to some of the townspeople's more... unique palates.

Maybe you've got your own table set up with your wares, or maybe you were simply lured to the park today by the appetizing scents wafting through the air. Either way it seems like the whole town has come out to show their support today and why wouldn't they? Children are our future, aren't they? Or maybe it's just Linda's Blondie recipe.

Yeah, that's probably it.

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 currently has two basic functions. The first is audio-only and can be accessed from the telephones in each character's home. If an audio-based medium doesn't suit your needs (or aesthetics), be sure to take advantage of the Wayward Pines Message Board from your brand new laptop for the chance to communicate with your fellow townspeople in a text-based format instead!

( a few notes )

Welcome to our third test drive here in The Pines! Just one important thing to note:

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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[Clary's arm returns to her side.]

Scott then.

[She's trying not to smile to widely. With a small wave she turns away, pausing to thank him again for the lemon square which she begins to nibble at as she moves along, glancing at the different tables.

Clary would classify this as a good day.]

She's upset. Understandably so. Curtis felt the same when he went through the song and dance of trying to walk out of here. There's only so many times you can wind up back in town before you eventually abandon the pursuit. At least for the time being. He needs to explore other means of escape. He's never been one to just give up. Just switch gears. Find a new plan.

"I think everyone wants to leave." He tries to keep his voice low. Calm. No need for both of them to get upset. "I'm not sure people belong here either." He holds up his hand. "Do you know how you got here?"

I'll see soon enough. Now, this old man will stop taking up your time so you can get back to whatever it is you kids do.

Okay. Later.

:)

[This was really not his thing. But between his memories coming back and just how ridiculously adamant whoever advertised this thing was, Kyle decided why not? You wanna know what a place is like, you go where the people are, and it definitely seemed like they'd be here. Besides, he sure wasn't going to say no to some delicious baked goods, either.

His eyes catch sight of something weird as he's passing by the tables (is... that even human food?), causing him to maybe not be watching where he's going at the moment. He's definitely distracted enough to bump into something in like, two seconds. Maybe this table, maybe Kal, who knows.

Either way, whatever he bumps into, his response is almost immediate:]

Whoa, sorry about that. I was paying attention. Really.

[Did he ruin anything? He sure hopes he didn't, that would be kind of awkward. He came to observe, not make a spectacle of himself.]

[ And, once the man laughs, Jefferson realizes that he definitely missed a reference of some kind. But he doesn't seem to feel chagrined over it or anything, just blinks, then ducks his head a little and has a soft chuckle at his own expense. ] Ah. I admittedly don't know the first thing about... bikes.

[ Glancing up again, he offers Poe a smile. ] I'm Jefferson. I... [ Am half-mad and don't fully know where I came from and used to work as a hatter and a thief and a soulless PR person until I became a mental patient? ] Own a tea shop on Main Street. [ Yeah, that's a better introduction. ]

[ If Cassian knew there was someone around who could read his thoughts (unbidden or not) he'd be a lot more careful with them, considering he's running a small table for the Tea Shop at this bake sale. (Why? Pietro. That's why. Also it's a good chance to get a look at people he wouldn't otherwise interact with.) As it is, his thoughts have a tendency to double back on themselves, one set of thoughts going quiet as another presents itself. There's definitely a thread that is full of mundane information: assessing threat levels seems to be automatic, along with names, memories (some make more sense than others), order requests, change, etcetera.

Then there's the other. Still assessing threat levels, looking for concealed weapons, looking for familiar faces, considering how absolutely pissed off he'll be if someone uses this as a cover to poison them all.

Someone has a history of compartmentalizing.

Either way, when Kylo approaches the table, Cassian gives a nod. ]

I have coffee.

[ Tall, dark and brooding looks like he might need some. ]

OPTION THREE

It wasn't until he'd wandered over to a table filled with cupcakes that Finn realized he was ravenous. His stomach gurgled and rumbled as he eyed the treats laid out before him, licking his lips and staring with a longing that could be compared to seeking water in the middle of a desert! Close. He's seeking food in the middle of desserts!

He'd only just gotten his clothes back, still waiting on the memories, but maybe there was a chance he had some money on him! A few bucks? Any spare change floating around in the pockets of his jacket?

Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Just a few metal bolts and a pinch of... sand? That's not going to go very far at a bake sale.

The next person that stops by the table looks friendly enough. Finn taps them lightly on the arm with the back of his hand, smiling and trying not to look too desperate. "Hey. Hi there. Is there any chance you could get me one of those? See, there was this accident and I just got out of the hospital and I can't remember the last time I ate." Or... anything else, for that matter. Besides his name! First name. And snow covering the ground in a forest? And... a girl.

OPTION FOUR - Network

UN: Finn2187

I'm looking for a ride out of town. I need a driver. If someone could give me a lift, that would be great. The sooner the better. Serious offers only, please.

[Who else could that be. WHO ELSE COULD THAT BE. ]

Get me a vehicle and you've got a driver.

[Get you a vehicle?! GET YOU A VEH-- that's half of Finn's current dilemma! But for some reason, he thinks he can swing it. It's doable.]

Yeah? I can do that.

[He has no idea HOW but he's sure he'll figure it out.]

Do you have a preference?

[Was that weird? It sounded weird in his head after he typed it but he sent it too fast and now it seems weird.]

Edited 2017-04-18 05:42 (UTC)

"Nice bike," comes a response (not from the crow, thankfully, but from a man who just exited one of the houses on the block.) Cassian gestures with his chin at it, and at Poe. "Don't they make you wear helmets for that sort of thing?"

The WASP (not the literal bloodsucker but a woman on the PTA so unpleasant Cassian thought she may as well have been) gives Finn a once-over and scoffs; fortunately for Finn, Cassian would honestly pay someone to get her away from his table so congratulations, kid. Cassian is in your debt.

So. He gestures at Finn until he's behind the table, and then he makes Finn sit. Hands him a cupcake. "Here. There's coffee, too." Or tea. Cassian just ignores it, is all.

So you're local.

[ Poe knows he's not. He's not even sure he's from this world. He has memories of stars, of whole planets spread out below his wings. His mother's hands guiding him as he handles the flight stick for the first time, shooting over jungles at cruising speed.

He's going to make himself homesick again. Keep the smile going instead, keep the tone light. ] You have coffee? I want to see how it holds up to what I'm familiar with.

[ His fingers flick toward a holster he isn't wearing as he turns, but he's getting used to that impulse enough by now to turn it into another motion, to dust an imaginary bit of dirt off his pant leg.

Poe looks at the bike, then back at Cassian. ] Probably. I didn't look to see if I had one.

[ A grin. ] Whoops.

His focus on the townspeople evaporates. He knows that voice. He knows that face.

They do need to go, they need to go now, but first -- first, Poe is going to run the distance between them and envelope Finn in a hug, laughing as he does.

"Buddy, we gotta stop meeting like this."

If it's got an engine, I can drive it.

Does the name Poe Dameron ring any bells for you?

[ He kicks down the side stand on the motorcycle before dismounting, ignoring the sense of oddity that comes with having to keep the bike upright. It seems to him like it should just happen, that it's something these kinds of vehicles do on their own.]

Yeah? Where you from, then?

[ He drags a hand through his hair, though weather it straightens his curls of tousles them further is impossible to say.]

[ He didn't ruin anything. Kal had been enjoying a piece of pie, but he'd managed to manuever the plate out of range from his face as he'd dipped forward from the 'impact'. Or his manufactured response to the impact, anyway. As he looks down, he can't help but blink as he looks at the kid. The... familiar kid?

Where is he familiar from? God, it's going to bother him if he doesn't remember this. There's something, a picture in his mind. The color green... which he knows is not a good thing, but there's nothing bad associated with this particular green, with this particular kid. Wanting to know more, or perhaps just to give himself more time to figure it out, he leans over and gives the younger man a comforting smile. ]

I'm sure you were. Just not to me. You all right?

[ Cassian catches it, though, and it tells him two things: one, he'll probably end up with some bullshit memory about knowing this guy from group therapy or when all the vets in town go drinking or something, and two? He's probably new.

New people don't get their weapons for a month. (Cassian's holster is hidden beneath his jacket.) ]

I'd say be careful but you're presumably an adult. Also you're here, so. [ A shrug. ]

Presumably. [ He notes the holster, jacket or none. It's both unnerving and reassuring, to know he can spot a hidden weapon on someone at this distance.

He rolls the bike closer to the curb, glancing down at the tire tracks he left streaked over the asphalt. Hopefully that won't get him in trouble with the powers that be (or maybe, hopefully, it will). ] What's that mean, 'also I'm here'?

You were in an accident, weren't you? [ Don't talk about before, but does it count when before was just days ago? Probably. Probably Cassian is asking for trouble and he should probably stop there, but nothing ventured nothing gained, right?

Besides Kay was always better at crunching the numbers, pointing out the degrees of danger in a given course. ]

It happens.

[ Cassian gives a little shrug. ] No small town is without it's dangers.

[ Poe has done plenty of classified work at this point. He's done a dozen one-man runs, scouting missions, search-and-retrieve expeditions. That doesn't mean, necessarily, that he's good at hiding his emotions. Not when he's not focused on the effort, anyway.

His gaze hardens, and his tongue gets ahead of him. Not the first time. Won't be the last. ] It wasn't an accident.

[ Then he clamps down hard on that. He may not remember who he did classified work for, but that doesn't mean he's going to go spilling more than he has to about... well, about anything.

Quick as the scowl came on, it's gone, replaced by bright eyes and his sideways smile. ] Does it count as an accident if it was half on purpose? Could've used a helmet, though, definitely need to look into that.

[He's not in the hospital at the time, but he does see those familiar crimson beams piercing through the building from the outside.

Except... he doesn't exactly know why they're familiar to him. Just that he knows he's seen them. Or more specifically, he knows the mutant who makes them. So James charms his way on up through the hospital staff, only to find that the destructo kid has left the building. So, he retraces Scott's steps to the sheriff's office, only to see the same fucking red beams; and holy Christ, he should probably get in there and tell him to knock it off.

Instead of preventing any kind of destruction, he meets the kid outside the police station. He knows him by the dorky red glasses, but yet again, he doesn't know why he recognizes him.]

You done blowing shit up, or what?

Option One: Welcome to Wayward Pines

[When it comes to being in the hospital, Castiel is the spirit of politeness and willingness to do what the staff asks of him. The few memories he have are ones he turns over in his mind repeatedly as if something new might be gleaned from them as he smiles at the nurses and lets the doctors finally pronounce him fit to leave. It's useless stuff on the whole: how the stars looked from the backseat of a loudly purring black car, the name 'Winchester', the word 'assbutt', a leather jacket hanging up, and someone dragging him along while shouting his name. It's all disjointed, not making any sense. His rescue from the car accident?]

[The nurses and doctors are kind in his opinion despite their inability to tell him much of anything. For some reason that doesn't bother Castiel in the least. He signs his name where they tell him, lets them look him over and advise him as they want to. When he's dressed, pronounced ready to go home, he steps outside of the hospital and studies the little card they gave him with directions to his home.]

[Strange, only 'Castiel' is written on the card, a smear where a last name would have been. The same happened in the hospital whenever he asked what his full name was. The reply had been garbled or the nurse didn't have it on that particular form. After awhile, he stopped asking. It didn't seem important.]

[He's standing before one of the Official Notice signs when he turns to whatever unfortunate happens to be walking by. At a glance, Castiel is nothing impressive... an accountant sort in an off the rack suit with a tan trenchcoat over it. Real confusion is on his face as he looks from the sign to them.] What does that mean? Is there somewhere else I should be going? Life before?

[With only his five memories, Castiel can't imagine yet wanting or needing to leave. He's more about trying to find his own house among all the others. The address card clutched in his hand is useless since he doesn't remember what the street names are.]

Option three: PTA Bakesale

[Castiel is pretty sure he offended the woman behind the stand when he had tried one of her peanut butter and jelly cookies. Without his memory, he had no idea why that particular thing had called to him. The taste had been overwhelming though. Angels (except for Gabriel) didn't eat or couldn't. They tasted things on the molecular level, and it was like being blasted with fifty levels of a single thing all at once. His hand pressed over his mouth, Castiel tries not to sick up the single bite he had taken. Gentle hands were on his shoulders, offering him water. Even it is a hit of its own that is unpleasant.]

[Apologies made with his best puppy eyes, he finally reassures her that he's not ill off her cooking. When the kind woman suggests maybe he had a peanut allergy he didn't remember, Cas is quick to take that out. He has no idea what an allergy feels like, but something tells him that isn't right. Eating and drinking doesn't appeal to him even if he likes the smell of things. Giving her what little money he had brought with him as a donation, he slips away to look over other stalls... to study the people around. All he wants is a familiar face or someone who recognizes him.]

[A flash comes from someone's camera and the black shadow of wings span out from Castiel's back in that instant, gone the next. Optical illusion, right? He doesn't notice it. Instead, he walks on to look over the next booth.]

Option four: on the network (un:castiel) (yeah, he's not that imaginative.)

I think I might be missing my car. I remember it, but it isn't in the garage. It's a black 1967 Impala. I think it has Kansas plates. I need to find it. Has anyone seen it?

Edited 2017-04-18 07:41 (UTC)

that's MY car, you asshole.

Edited 2017-04-18 07:58 (UTC)

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