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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[ Curtis will admit that even though the people surrounding him in the town were unfamiliar the feeling of being pressed in tight together isn't something he's against. It feels familiar. In a way. You can't move without hitting someone else. You're always about to bump into them. In danger of toppling over. But he can't quite put his finger on why. That's the most confusing part.

He looks down and then back up. She's a lot nicer than anyone he's met in the past. Well, before he came to this town. People in this town they're different. Different than what Curtis is used to. Which is people looking out for number one. Pushing each other. Fighting each other. They don't give back. They just take. Right? ]

I uh--I don't think I can actually remember the last time I had chocolate. [ He doesn't think it's from the amnesia though. He remembers living off blocks. Bars. Before that it's bloody and violent. He can't recall how anything tastes. ] Or anything not a protein block.

[ Still he doesn't like just taking. Curtis feels like he should work for it. Do something. Anything. He may be down an arm, but he knows he can still do things. He's still got the one good arm. He has strange blurred memories of men and women operating with one less limb. They always made it work. ]

I used to help people. [ He remembers a smudged and dirty face. Looking to him for guidance. He remembers a sea of dirty faces. Asking him. Curtis. Curtis. Curtis. What do we do? ] It's been a while though I think.

How do you figure?

[ Though in the past Curtis does have an inkling that money did tend to buy a lot more happiness. ]

You remember some things though. Not everything. And that's okay.

Yeah somehow I doubt the ones that're experiencing the lapses are the ones running around nailing the signs up. And to be honest you can't trust anyone until you give them a chance.

Besides talking about holes in our memory won't get us in trouble.

[ Unless they start using the meetings to come up with a break out attempt. ]

I know about those. I just don't believe you're not yanking my chain.

[ He has to be. He has to be messing with him. ]

Clary nodded her head with a warm smile. While she didn't always like showing off her art, she loved to draw and she was slowly becoming more proficient at it. She wasn't at the same level as her mother, she might never get that good but Clary loved it all the same.

She listened and nodded her head as Isabelle roughly explained her work. "I'm sure you'll remember or maybe someone will remind you. I've found that wandering around town has helped me remember." It's been slow going but each day Clary remembers a little bit more. Some of her memories don't make sense but she hopes that they'll eventually connect and make more sense in the future.

Clary pushed the door of the cafe and walked straight to the back to put down her things. There were a lot of cats gathered around them and it looked like the cafe area was empty for now. "Do you want anything to eat? We have salads and smoothies mostly." She pointed to a small menu on the wall. "The cats know not to go on the tables but the menu was selected so that if the cats ate food of the floor they'd be fine." So it was a limited menu.

It's a lost cause, Mrs. Solo. None of the other adults are as good as us.

Sort of. We moved around a lot, like nomads. [ Carl definitely remembers there's a "we" involved. He knows he was part of a group, but he can't remember their names or faces. ]

Like going between foster homes?

[ That'd be his own experience. ]

I've never had much luck giving people a chance.

There's a lot of jerks in the world.

Would you like to be friends?

just a feeling
a memory, i suppose
joy's what i would call what people here call money

Clarissa hesitates only a snap of a second as her thoughts rocket through every point from "Are you mad?" and finally flicking to a stop on "fuck it". How this frail-looking girl who'd been laid-up barely conscious until less than a minute ago intended to hustle her way through an increasingly agitated menagerie of patients and med staff didn't matter. Whatever Enis' plan was—however likely it was to actually get them out of here, it was still more of a plan than she had.

With blinding speed Clarissa withdraws the blade from around Enis' neck and lobs it in a directionless throw into the meddling crowd, some of which flinch out of the way of the spinning sharp. Not caring to see if or where or in whom in landed, she presses the flat of her hand to Enis' back and SHOVES her forward, before vaulting straight across the bed as directed. Her feet clear the covers as she propels herself to an unsteady stop at the foot of the window.

...It's locked, of course.

"Oh, fuckssake!" Clarissa growls, her hands scrabbling over the lock, around the pane... Yep, it's locked all right. Figures they wouldn't want any delirious or otherwise world-weary patients getting too adventurous. Through the glass, that drop looked like it would, logically, smash you up pretty good if you fell from it. Maybe not kill you, but...

It's not that high, really.

...You'd have to be crazy to attempt it, right? Not that it'll matter if this window keeps stuck. In a moment of frustration, Clarissa jams her fingers as deep beneath the ledge as possible, feet planted firmly against the floor and teeth grit so tight they might chip as she tries to pry the goddamn thing open. A loud metallic crack and the window slams upward into the top of the frame, the force splintering the glass into a web of cracks.

Huh. Must've been a pretty old lock. Clarissa snaps around to check where Enis is at. It's time to get the hell out of dodge, somehow. Two-storey drop be damned.

Clarissa falls in step, happy to invite herself along on Carl's nature walk. The rock gets rolled into view as Clarissa tosses-and-catches it one handedly.

"Eh. Normally it wouldn't. I don't go about meddling in anyone else's business, usually."

Lies, she's way too nosy for that.

"But like I said. I don't have a clue where I am or where I came in from. So I figure, hey, here's a plan: team up with someone who does know, right?"

Enis felt the rough push forward and set her plan into motion. Her feet stumbled as she worked to keep them positioned firmly beneath the weight of her torso. The nurses that she collided into where there to catch her. They all handled her with care, not knowing that she'd spoken to Clarissa or had decided to help the frantic girl.

She then slipped through the crowd of people. Using the commotion to slide up next to the window shortly after Clarissa did. It was locked, she'd thought of a way around that but was surprised to see the girl force open the window. She felt the whirl in her head again as calculations began to run in the back of her mind.

How many pounds of force did it require for her to do that?

It didn't seem that important give their current situation. They were now looking at Enis with the same confused and worried look that they had directed at Clarissa. There was no turning back now.

A drop from a second story window was about twenty feet up. Plus an extra foot for the foundation that rises above the ground. There weren't any trees in their way. If they allowed the force to crumble through them like a shock wave. They're feet would hint the ground first and they'd fall into the force, rolling as the force was then directed harmlessly through them. They'd be able to run about 15 seconds after hitting the ground. Enis had no idea how she knew this but she trusted it and without looking back she grabbed the girl and jumped through the window. Her voice was carried by the rushing wind, low and calm. "Inhale and relax." It was the only way for them not to get hurt and if Clarissa needed it Enis would guide her through the fall.

As the ground rose beneath them Enis's eyes flashed yellow and she fell perfectly, rolling back up to her feet. It looked like she'd done it before though she was pretty sure that she hadn't.

Not really, I remember being with a large group of people. We didn't stay in one place for very long. [ He thinks, anyway.

He's also neglecting the fact that the places they do land for a time are abandoned. In fact, everywhere they go towns and homes were abandoned. ]

Dominique DiPierro. But you can call me Dom. Most people do.

"Make it pecans and you've got yourself a deal," Dom replies, matching the conspiratorial tone. Then, she blinks, feeling as if she's startled herself. Is she flirting? Not Ana. Dom. Am I, Dom asks herself in a split second of social terror, flirting?

She legitimately has no idea, and tries to bury her awkwardness under a too-wide smile and a hand offered for a handshake. "I'm Dom, by the way."

Dom frowns. The answer to that question is ... tricky.

"Bits. Like, I had some kind of job that involved getting into people's business, like I was a cop or a reporter or something. I had a friend named Alexa. And I—"

A memory of gunfire, her ears ringing, glass breaking, blood and worse splattered across the wall of a restaurant—

She breathes in deeply, then out, slow. "I've seen some shit," she says finally.

Hey there.

[ She's got the smile on that she uses to put people at ease when she's interrogating them, the good-cop smile. It's always been pretty convincing, actually, which is one of the reasons why they keep sending her in to interrogate people. Friendly. Non-threatening. Got your best interests at heart. And this time, at least, she means it; she's not doing it to get something out of the poor schmuck. ]

Got this extra scone, you look hungry, so I figured it was logical to get you two together.

An informal agreement in a text format that neither assures you any guarantees. I could well be anyone on the other side of this phone playing a prank. Saturday would be acceptable. Do wear closed-toed shoes. We wouldn't want a health and safety concern.

There was a sense of rising danger, one that seemed to make clear that his intentions could very well land him dead. He knew the feel of magic, of course, though he couldn't identify the source. The danger might have actually been the most exciting part, the threat of personal injury or harm. Maybe he would straddle the line between life and death for awhile? While he didn't want to die, the venture of getting close to that point and skirting the inevitability changed so much of his pent up destructive tendencies. He could focus.

And that annoying yelling wasn't going to distract him. He crawled another calf-length forward, his fingers outstretched. He could feel the buzz of high-voltage electricity raising the hairs on his arms and sending his teeth chattering. It made his muscles jump and that was positively invigorating!

Odd how a tug on his clothing could be so annoying, and his temper snapped as he was torn away from being so close. He rolled aside away from the wall and came up in a crouch, which was difficult considering that the strength melting magic was still in effect around him. He snarled, his eyes flashing, and he threw a hand out as if to do magic of his own but stopped short.

"How dare you," he spat, his voice weakened from a sapped energy. "Who do you think you are to pull me away from something I want to do, old man?"

Carl scoffed. In reality, he doesn't know what he's doing either, only that if anyone has the skills to survive on his own, it'll be him. "Then go back and get some supplies, or you'll get nowhere fast."

Probably just got covered by pine needles. [ which is annoying because now neither of them have a clue as to where that scream came from or what happened. for a moment, dutch's annoyance is written all over her features, from the way her brows are drawn together to her lip pressed tight.

it tips into something sardonic and darkly amused a moment later. ] 'course I am.

[ Well, that's a thing. Is it the thing he was expecting it to be? Not at all. ]

I'm afraid that all we have is a bar.

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