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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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The laughter is infectious; because as serious as the situation is, and despite the fact that Finn only just had his memory jogged properly, he was not expecting that hug. Maybe he should have. (Should he have?) But he knows Poe, and for now, that's all that matters.

He laughs as he returns the embrace, "What can I say? You're a trouble magnet."

[ ...okay, dude, the day has already been a fantastical cavalcade of horsehocky, all right? Waking up to literally destroying everything, feeling like an asshole because fucking hell, it's a hospital. What if he hadn't tried to look out the window?! And then the sheriff's station... man. MAN. There was absolutely nothing quite like the heart-pounding terror of firing that off in a crowded room full of people. He'd just been lucky he'd only taken out a window and a pay phone because holy goddamn hell, if it'd been a person? Seriously. Seriously, what the fuck. He'd figured the visor might let him see normally, you know. With colors other than red? But no, apparently it was just more-better-blowing shit up, he'd been appalled. So when the absolute stranger who, for some reason, immediately goes right up his back anyway asks him about it like he actually meant to do any of that, his posture, expression, and a glare straight through those glasses (though thankfully not actually through the glasses) makes it clear that he is 150% welcome to blow it directly out his ass, okay? Directly. ]

What's it to you, Wolfman?

[ Could he have explained any of the things above? Sure. Could he have shown some of the terror and remorse and shock and even fear he has about himself, about what he is? Absolutely. Is he going to?

Have you met Scott?

Note that the last is an answer to the second to last.]

[ He's just gonna... watch her walk away, not in a creepy way or anything (no head tilting, thank you very much!) but you know. Happy. That went well, after all. ]

Taking the brownie as the lady offers it to him, Ren nods at her, and then once more shifts his gaze towards the man. He had walked by said pies earlier in his initial scope of the place. More expensive, and given that he has no apparent source of income beyond the original amount of money he had, Ren thinks it better to be frugal. Better to spend it on something sustainable instead of dessert.

He can't (won't) rely on the generosity of others to keep himself fed. Even if using people is tempting, he doesn't like the obligation of gratitude to keep up appearances. So Ren simply nods, as if annotating the information for later. He stuffs the wrapped brownie in the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt, and neatly steps out of the way as a small child comes barreling down the line of tables.

"I'll keep that in mind, thanks."

Option 1: Welcome to Wayward Pines

The idea of a hospital wasn't novel, but it also didn't feel right. The fact that he woke up in one with kindly looking nurses informing him of the bad fall that left him concussed and why was he always climbing around in the trees to begin with? His questions were met with warm smiles, pats on the hand and annoying lights checking his pupillary reflexes. The doctor was just as kind, which grated on his nerves and drove him out of the hospital window by the second morning.

Something wasn't right. There was something wrong in his head. That had been days ago, but neither the fog nor the ringing in his ears had abated. It annoyed him, and it seemed when he was annoyed, he became destructive. Trophies from apparent events he couldn't recall the details off with the first to go, heads of the figures snapped off then the torsos. Strange stupid trucks with remote controls were driven into the mud, into fences, off of ledges specially to break them.

None of these items felt like his, and he could tell deep down that he knew what belonged to him. This was some prank. Someone was playing a joke, and he wasn't laughing in the least.

Sitting on the side-walk edge, remote control in hand, his latest 'monster truck' was spinning around the middle of the road. He moved it out of the way as drivers passed a few times, and then he purposefully rammed it under the wheels. Okay, that made him smile as a loud crunching sound ended its pathetic little electronic life. That left him picking at the controller, seeking away to take it apart.

Option 2: Into the Woods

Peter liked trees, liked to climb them. He felt more at home in the woods than he did in the cookie-cutter house that he was forced to spend his evenings in. Often times, he was sneaking out of the house to go to the forest, though for some reason, he had never bothered to travel that deep into its confines. He found the best trees near the periphery and climbed it, lounging in the branches, picking spring blossoms and tugging off the petals one by one.

Today, he was feeling particularly adventurous and risky. A scream was more thrilling than frightening, and as a 'curious teenager', he moved deeper into the woods in order to find the source. An animal? Maybe but doubtful. That sounded like a person, and maybe, just maybe they had fallen badly and he could see bone exposed from a broken limb or some blood. That would be worth the entire venture!

Instead, he was slowly at the massive fence that seemed to stand in his way as he peeked around the trees. Hopping down from the trunk he had been standing on, he approached cautiously but with full intention of getting closer. The hairs on the back of his neck rose. He felt heavy of limb and his ears began to ring again as he forced one foot in front of the other.

How far could he push himself? Very was the answer. He was a master of his own domain, and even when he was forced to his knees, crawling like a pathetic babe, he still snarled and forced himself forward... reaching, ever reaching to say he touched the fence...

Option 4: Network

Bonfire tonight. In the woods. Bring sticks appropriate for boyish antics. No parents allowed.

I sure do! because I'm not about to settle for these brands. They never taste as good.

[In the midst of all the noise, there's a familiar thread of thought Ren picks up on as he makes his way through the tables. He follows it as if a hound on a scent, unsubtle until he stands before a man at one of the tables, labeled for its sale of tea. Ren looks him over, then, as if realizing the stare he must be leveling him, switches to his wares. The suggestion brings his eyes up once more.

A twitch appears on his lips, the beginning of a smile. How he must look that his suggestion is a stronger alternative to his primary product. Ren huffs, amused.]

Do I look that bad?

[He asks, maintaining a polite facade while he tries to probe further into his mind. Sometimes it's subtle, sometimes not. Ren hopes for the former, he's intrigued by some of the images that the man is projecting with his thoughts. If he can just get him to focus on them, he'll get a clearer picture -- all Ren wants is to confirm that their origins are not here on this world that cannot even land its people on another planet. He knows he can't be the only one.]

Very warm.

i'm all ears!

[ in an instant is right! ] Fresh… [ so it could belong to the ‘ thing ‘ that screamed. ] Or it. [ she frowns, because there’s a dozen different scenarios playing through her head and none of them are good. ] Good. I mean, yeah, that sounds good. [ she sweeps her eyes over the immediate area, but doesn’t catch anything ( beyond the blood ) that’s out of the ordinary. ] They can’t be far either.

sticks for boyish antics? what're we going to do: hit each other with em?

would you be PAYING this driver?

[ He asks, as if he knows how to drive. ]

oooooh!! 31

No.

THIRTY-THREE

ON THE NETWORK - TEXT

SN - Wolfish_Glee

Okay. So on a scale of 1 - 10. Rate the following bands and tell me your favorite song. If you haven't heard of these bands please go to the music store and educate yourself because I feel bad for you.
Nirvana
Ace of Base
Spin Doctors
Bon Jovi
Journey
Tears for Fears
Wham!

P.S. I'm a mechanic and while this is what I spent my down time doing. Hit me up if your car starts making weird ass noises.

Edited 2017-04-18 14:45 (UTC)

Option 1: Welcome to Wayward Pines

Heart attack. Sudden collapse, they said and the bruising definitely indicated a fierce bout of CPR. Why did three spots feel particularly tender then? Those were questions that floated through his mind as he exchanged pleasantries with the nurses, offering no fuss as his blood pressure was taken, and he was certain to flirt enough to send the eldest ones blushing from the room. They answered none of his questions otherwise, except for one that would relate to his release date, what was on the menu, and what the weather was going to be tomorrow.

When it was clear, his other pressing questions wouldn't be answered, he filed them away. Upon his release, he returned home to a quaint little two-storey house with a rich burgundy paint job where white was the accents. A nice picket fence, neat and well kept gardens, and a small foo-foo dog (bichon frise, thank you very much) named Zola.

He checked the mail box. He sat on the porch watching the coming and goings of the populous ("Good day to you, Principal!", "Lovely weather, Mr. Principal!", "Your gardens are looking tip-top shape, sir!"). There were others beyond the pleasantries, people who seemed to know more than they let on, who had questions without answers. He had nothing but the inkling that there was a matter at hand which required his attention... like a splinter in his flesh he needed to pick at in order to remove.

However, he didn't answer. He observed. He returned to the routine that was expected of him so that he could continue dig for answers subtly. A morning jog with Zola bounding along at his heels. Reading the morning paper with nothing new or interesting. Returning to work as principal of the school and greeting his students each morning ("Tuck in those shirt tails, Mr. Taylor." and "Do you have a problem, Mr. Smith? No, do you want one? Off to class now.").

Alexander took a walk around the school grounds, waving to his fellow staff and recording all the strange blandness of this place. Children were the most honest, but even some of them were shy with answers to some of his more prying questions. Every day, the unsettled feeling grew and he wanted to find answers but each step around the grounds was the same routine.

Option 3: PTA Bake sale

As principal of the school and a supreme organizer of events, he was there as the first one in the morning setting up the tables, organizing where each of the baked goods would go (No, the lovely pies go on that table over there). He kept some of the parents on task until the bake sale kicked off with a flurry of the quaint little town coming to support the event.

And he was there, chatting, ribbing, and encouraging the sales. Where one individual was being too cheap, he encouraged further sales. ("Think of the children whose parents took the time and effort to make such splendid goods! It's our job to compliment and support, which includes purchases!") It was all going so well with the young ones rubbing about with icing smeared on their faces, so hopped up on sugar that he was glad it was a Friday and no school the next day.

The sales were going well with the combined efforts of teachers, parents and children sticking their greedy little fingers into goods while their parents sighed and brought out more coin. He smiled warmly, bent to a knee to speak to the little ones, asking of their days, asking when it would be their turn to try out school and to tell him a joke or show him a trick. Children, after all, were the future and his view was that their skills were best started young. How else would one mold the future to one's liking?

And near the end, he stood with the head of the PTA and addressed the crowd. "I want to thank everyone who came out to support the bake sale this year. It was such a success and we owe it all to your fine people. With these funds, we will be able to make needed upgrades to our extracurricular program!" All smiles, more hand shaking and casual comments.

"Oh, there appears to be one more set of cupcakes left. Who wants to take them home?"

Option 4: Network

I require a handyman or handywoman to assist me in some basic repairs to my shed. It appears a family of raccoons took a brief stay, and they've rather made a mess of the wood.

Edited 2017-04-18 15:00 (UTC)

That's one possibility. All the children know you deserve quite the thrashing. I was more thinking marshmallows, but suit yourself.

[He was not thinking roasting food over the fire unless it was to fling it still burning at another boy.]

I think you're wrong. I have a space in the garage for it and a few oil stains on the concrete. I can't remember any other car I would have owned but that one.

nobody wants to thrash me! i'm too lovable

I do, but I know you'll like it so I've held off so far.

i bet i could get you to stop holding off

i mean, if i REALLY wanted to

[ After all, Chase knows he's got a talent for annoying people. ]

Edited 2017-04-18 15:02 (UTC)

There's a reason we're friends, and it isn't your startlingly handsome smile and mischievous glint in your eye.

Are girls not invited?

If you insist, but no crying if the games get too rough.

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