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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Option Three

Ash knows three things for certain by the time he arrives at the bake sale; he's not going to question the general peacefulness that surrounds him, there's no way in hell he's going near the damn woods, and he's hungrier than he can ever remember being in his entire life.

Why he doesn't want to go anywhere near the woods he can't precisely recall, but something about trees tend to turn his stomach these days. The doctors back at the hospital wouldn't tell him anything about how or why he ended up there, but his missing right hand offered a few clues. The scars on his face and the slight limp he possesses offer further ideas.

If he had to guess, it was probably a logging accident. The only other thing he can vaguely remember is holding a chainsaw.

But never mind the past. The present stands before him, dolled up with big dollops of icing.

He strolls up to the nearest table, sly as you please, and drops a couple of wadded-up bills onto the table. "Gimmie a couple of snickerdoodles and the biggest brownie you got."

Edited 2017-04-23 12:04 (UTC)

It is an enchanting idea. I like music because I think it's like magic.

What sort of voice do you have? Or if you know your octave rang. I can suggest some songs that you might know the words too and I can build the music around your voice.

Huhn. That's pretty cool. We should definitely make time to listen to some music then.

Er, please.

Sure thing. I work at the record store besides occasionally playing at parties.

Oh! I can come by there, sure. I am pretty much the town maintenance man.

Or everything to the fence. [ dutch responds promptly, grimly. she's been imprisoned before, held captive, but she isn't really used to having her movements restricted like this. she remembers travelling through space, having her own ship, hunting down people. there was freedom in that, even if she was running from something. ]

One pointed toward the fence.

Hexed?

[ the word might have just slipped out, but even exhausted as she's feeling right now, the strangeness of it doesn't escape dutch. or maybe it isn't strange, maybe it's perfectly normal, but — it feels strange, and her instinctive reaction is to frown, to figuratively poke at that strangeness until it starts making sense.

she forces herself a little more upright, lips pressing together. ] Risk of death, that one?

I'll look forward to seeing you.

If Ren thinks the minds of children are a cluster of rapid fire and impossible trains of thought, then this man is a greater challenge still. He could probe further, try to push through all the organized chaos, but that Ren knows will tip him off. No matter, really. For all that, he's gotten what he wants and his insight has found this man's intentions innocent. It's not very reassuring, however, not with the way his attention is focusing that goodness on him.

Ren's lips press together and he puts his hands in his pockets, one absently taking hold of his gifted sweet. His eyes flick towards the man and he stares as he talks of children. Not quite the favored subject for him, though Ren isn't sure why.

"I was an only child," he answers, "The dodging comes from fencing, not toddlers."

And though there are clear memories of the forms and motions of the art, Ren still feels like there's been more to it than that. He hears the hum in his ears of a weapon he cannot picture. Much like many other things, Ren finds it frustrating.

[The shock of information, while brief, is startling and Ren nearly smiles in his excitement to know that it's real. That he isn't alone. He doesn't know the man pictured, but he knows of that make of craft, sees it being flown through the reaches of space. The confirmation leaves Ren hungry for more and yet sated all the same. Should he try again? Or err on the side of caution, the way the man's mind seemed to notice his presence.

Ren shakes his head slightly, remembering to stay engaged in the conversation, though somehow he feels as if he could project his very words into this man's mind. Of course, that would be much the same as announcing his ability out loud.]

No, I just don't usually like crowds.

[An honest truth, the noise of them is always overbearing, no matter how he tries to shut them out. It only ever quiets when he pushes further into one, as if sinking into the layers of another shields him from the rest. Now that Cassian (as Ren has learned from seeing his thoughts) is free from his probing, Ren feels the brunt of the populace's cacophony once again.]

You don't seem to either.

Seven guesses later.

sry you come across as super old i guess

Anything would seem old to a child.

i'm not a little kid

Are you sure?

YEAH I KNOW MY OWN AGE

[Being here is already a chore without having to try and avoid his mother as she makes her way through the crowds, yet Ren is attempting all the same. The fact that he's tall and wearing all black probably doesn't help matters, but he can't fix the first and the second is simply more him than any color would be. He's managed to dodge her gaze for the past twenty minutes, but Ren knows that instinct of hers will kick in and she'll zero in like a targeting system.

He really should just leave, but he's been trying to find others, like Cassian, who might know something beyond this small town. Ren can't be alone in this suspicion he's from more than just Idaho. Anyone else would tell him that talking to his mother would be the right path, but Ren has a rocky history with his parents. Between their jobs, they always seemed too busy for him and it really soured things for Ren growing up.

Hence avoiding her and having to deal with the emotions that come along with it.

Sadly (for Ren), he can only dodge for so long and he spots her gaze travel across the crowds to meet his. Kriff. He tries to turn around, but that won't help, there's no way she won't recognize him from the back just as easily. She is his mother, after all.]

Kaulder Smith.

[She smiles, writing the name and then pocketing her small book. Elena then holds out her hand to him.] Elena Michaels. It's nice to meet you.

[He had some interesting views and Elena knows that it'll make a good addition to her piece.]

Thank you for the statement. You can look forward to seeing it tomorrow in the paper.

Edited 2017-04-23 14:14 (UTC)

Elena shook her head. "I'm a reporter. I do what I need to in order to get the story." She was teasing though there was some truth to what she was saying. Elena knew that she could be difficult.

"And I'll be looking forward to those pancakes. For now I should get back and get this story written." She flashed him a smile while pushing herself up from the table. "It was nice running into you Kal."

You're acting like one.

[ The between a resort and a prison gets a laugh from her, if just a quiet little huff. She hasn't been around long enough to be used to it, exactly, but the constant exposure makes it just everyday enough to be darkly funny. ]

Tracks, huh? Good to know. The screaming happens from time to time, but as far as I know nobody ever turns up hurt or dead. Or missing, for that matter. I'm just about ready to assume it's kids dicking around.

[ But not ready enough to stop checking, apparently. ]

That shit with the fence is a 24-hour thing, though. Whatever they're trying to spook us away from with those signs, they're serious about it.

Perhaps a supervisor on your good work. That's reasonable, and I accept the terms of your work. Would you like a written contract or would just a hand-shake do, Mr. Maximoff?

From my experience, this job will take more than a few minutes.

It's an app for gay guys to find any number of naughty rendezvous.

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