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
Carl Grimes | The Walking Dead
Screeching, twisting metal. A scream. And then darkness.
That is all Carl remembered. He doesn't know why he's here, but he remembered some things. He remembers he had a rifle, ready to ambush someone in revenge for Glenn and Abraham. But it's not here in the hospital, so its clearly been confiscated. Either way, the hospital had been clearly been low on security, for he was able to sneak his way out of there after obtaining his clothes back. This whole town reminds Carl a little of Alexandria, but only because the cleanliness is comparable, although the grass hasn't grown like it had in Alexandria.
Compared to perhaps most newcomers, Carl is a little standoffish, lips pursed as he tries to understand just what the hell is going on. His one eye (the other covered in a bandage) narrows when pointed to the sign.
He needs to get out of here. He can't remember everything, but he distrust this place, and he needs to get out. But first, he's going to the house he's assigned in. Maybe find something useful. But there's a possibility that it's a trap as well. So he's stuck - until he sees someone close to him.
"Hey, do you know where this house is?" He shows the address of his new home, in a crumbled piece of paper. When in doubt, get a buddy.
option 2
He was right in not trusting this place. Carl heard the scream and when he asked the natives about it, they either pretend they didn't hear it, or they not-really-discreetly press him to forget about it. Frustrated already, he stalked off. He's not going out in the woods to leave this place without some supplies, however. He's went back to his home and grabbed everything he could carry - the knives (he couldn't get to any guns, which he preferred to have), the food, rope, anything that he might needed on the road ahead, stuffed in a small backpack that he bought on the cheap.
He entered the woods, and already he felt comforted by the familiarity. He may not remember everything, but he remembered this.
He heard a crack of a broken twig close by, and he flattened himself against the tree. Carl hold his breath, sheathing the knife hidden from the tail end of his shirt.
option 2
She'd been drawn here. Something about the height of the trees had felt so inviting. Walking bare foot, Clarissa can feel every brittle snap of twigs and brush of damp foliage against her soles and ankles, and it feels...totally alien. The Earthy smell of the woods floods her mind as it does her lungs and awakens synapses that are still sluggish with the clinging remnants of concussion. Her irritatingly unhelpful conclusion? Not a single thing about this is familiar.
A branch fractures underfoot and Clarissa feels something move too quickly and too coincidentally in her peripherals. Crouching slowly, she draws a rock from the tangle of weeds below, ignoring the skitter of sensory information as the tendons in her fingers flex around it. You don't need that.
Curling the stone behind her back, she takes a slow step in direction of the movement.
"It's rude to spy," she offers aloud to the woods at large. "Loitering... People might think you were up to something. Can I join?"
no subject
"I'm not loitering," he says bluntly. "I'm leaving."
no subject
"The woods? Or this town? Because if it's the latter, then...well, call it a stupid question and all. But I gotta ask: leaving to where?"
She casts an eye to the flash of blue glinting through the foliage, far above their heads, before her gaze rolls back to the leaving/loitering stranger.
"I sure as hell can't remember where I was from before winding-up here... This place gives me the heebie-jeebies, but I figure it'd be pretty fucking dense of me to up and leave not knowing what my destination's supposed to be. Do you know where you're headed to?"
no subject
He remembers going on the road for a long, long time, often times not knowing where his next shelter will be. This will be no different.
no subject
"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?"
no subject