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.)
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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bumfuckidaho2017-04-17 06:22 am
TEST DRIVE MEME
Sharon Carter | MCU
[ It's not a hard sell, that she was in an accident. SHIELD Special Service, CIA - you sign up for death work, eventually death will come knocking.
It's the circumstances that she doesn't believe. It's the doctors, it's the town. It's why she didn't stay in spite of their reassurances and requests, and why she left as politely as she possibly could. She's in hostile territory, one way or another, and if they're going to pretend to be friendly, she's going to pretend to be friends.
She's made it about half-way to the sheriff's office on smiles and sheepish looks, and the lack of anything overtly wrong here is starting to get to her. ]
three;
[ Sharon has an undeniable sweet tooth. This, she has learned about herself in the past ten minutes, drawn by the temptation of advertising and the smell of delicious baked goods.
Her first pass through the park is to mark the lines of approach, the areas of highest human density, potential sniper positions, cover, best places to lose herself if needed.
She feels better having done it. Good enough to take her eyes off her surroundings long enough to buy herself a brownie. ]
III
That's a perimeter scan if he's ever seen one. It's subtle, of course, but if you know how the game works, it's easy to pick up. Rumlow keeps his eyes on the blonde (she seems familiar, somehow) as he weaves through the soccer moms. She's standing by one of the brownie dealers -- because really, they might as well be drugs -- and Rumlow sidles up, peering down at the neatly wrapped treats.]
Brownie, hunh? Figured you'd go for one of Linda's famous blondies to match the hair.
[It's not a good line, but Rumlow's not here to flirt. Just get an assessment, see if maybe that familiarity carries. If she knows him (and doesn't inexplicably hate him), then he might be able to get some more answers. With situtional awareness like she's got, he'd put money down that she's an agent in her own right.]
no subject
She does know him. She's extremely familiar with him, in fact. She knows his face, she knows his file, she just can't remember its contents.
Sharon smiles, slowly, but the expression is genuine. ] That was crap. Stating it for the record. Have we met?
no subject
[Rumlow offers a hand, figuring he might as well introduce himself. It's polite, even if she might already know his name. It'll at least earn him hers, so he can see if it clicks. There's already something there, besides the markers that seem to ID her as another agent, a familiarity that he really can't put his finger on. Like he knows something about her that she doesn't.]
Brock Rumlow, if that jogs any memories. I own the boxing gym up a ways. [There's a slight lift of his brows, the universal signal that they have to keep details on the down low -- a reminder that even if she's unaware of the monitoring, there's no way she hasn't noticed all the posters around town.] Feel bad I don't remember you better. Maybe you came by for a class?
no subject
Roll with it. Give a little, get more. Even if she wants to hang on to that sense of familiarity, that's all the more reason to be cautious right now. ] Sharon. Carter.
[ She quirks a tiny smile at him, raising her eyebrows in return. ] Maybe for a class. I know I like punching things, so that's probably it.
no subject
He shakes her hand and notes the grip. Likes punching things, hunh? That's evident. He flashes her a smile. Could be she has gone to his classes before, if that's the only place he actively recalls her. He can't press here, as much curiosity as he has to follow the thread of recognition.]
Yeah? Well, we got plenty of space for that, if you're ever in the mood to swing by.
[Get it? Swing? Punch? All right, he's terrible. They just come to him and he can't stop.]
no subject
[ It's both a joke and not. She raises her eyebrows, this time not in any significant way. ] And that was terrible too. Also stating for the record. You've lived here for a while?
no subject
Always. And about a year or so. Came here after separating from the military.
[Best to go with the cover story for now. It's not exactly difficult for Rumlow to lie, just rolls off his tongue without even the slightest hesitation. Part of him wonders if that's just because there's something in him convinced it's real.]
You?
no subject
It's bullshit, it's all bullshit, but it's dizzyingly real. ]
Um. Here since I was a kid, I guess. Sort of coming back slowly-- there was this accident, you probably heard.
no subject
Have enough of them and they seem purposeful. [Rumlow says, just under his breath.] But I'm sorry to hear that. You look like you're doin' all right though, all things considered.
[If she guesses it's a probe, she's right and it proves his point. Double win, the way Rumlow sees it. He just hopes it works.]
no subject
Yeah, yeah I guess I am. What's purposeful?
no subject
Rumlow gives her a lingering stare, as if assessing her. Then he shrugs, a show for the rest of their potential audience.]
Some things in life are just out of your control, it's all about how you deal with the aftermath.
[Vague enough, but hopefully enticing all the same.]
no subject
Yeah, something is off here. Big time. ] Whatever you say, Mister Mysterious.
3
It's a different blonde at a different that ends up getting her full attention. Natasha spots Sharon out of the corner of her eye and goes completely still for a moment, mouth pressing into a thin line. It's not that she doesn't like Sharon. It's just that she'd never wish anyone she knows from home the burden of waking up here with no idea what's going on.
But it's better to have allies in an unknown place, so Natasha forgoes Linda's blondies in favor of approaching Sharon at the table she's at, plunking down a couple of dollars and reaching for Mrs Nesmith's peanut butter bars. ] Fancy meeting you here.
no subject
Of all the bake sales in all the towns in all the world. [ She picks another brownie and a peanut butter bar of her own, thanking Mrs Nesmith for the plastic bag she offers to carry them in.
She'll wait until she's out of earshot of the woman and fairly sure no one is listening before she says,] You're gonna have to give me a refresher on your name. Not quite there yet.
no subject
Natasha Romanoff, [ Comes the answer, casual and simple. Natasha keeps pace with Sharon, an easy walk. ] It'll all come back in time, although how long it takes seems to vary between people.
no subject
Then again, her desire to be open with Natasha makes her hesitate, too. This could be part of it all, a conditioned or programmed response to a stranger.
Even if Fancy meeting you here would be an appallingly simple key phrase. ]
I kinda gathered that the memory thing went around. Like a psychic headcold. [ She also feels like mental programming and psychics are things she once had a less cavalier attitude toward. They were once not a fact of life; instead just a distant possibility. A risk factor. ] What's the longest it's taken that you know of?
no subject
[ She can't say, for sure, if Steve and Barnes are the same. So she won't. ] Considering, [ And she nods towards one of the signs posted nearby, raising an eyebrow towards Sharon. ] I haven't thought it prudent to try and get a consensus.
no subject
She does break off the small piece and raise it to her mouth, looking away as she does and letting the sample fall out of sight without it touching the inside of her mouth.
She may or may not silently apologize to any possibly poisoned birds as she does it.] Probably a good idea. They really like to keep things... relaxed, around here.