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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"Because you don't cook." He's...fairly certain of that fact. Jyn Erso didn't have the most stable home life, after her mother's death, and she was too young to properly learn.

He stops himself from saying that she'd probably live off microwavable foods if left to her own devices. "And I do, so."

She would 100% live off microwaved food if she even believed this place had microwaves. She can make cereal, she could survive off cereal and raw fruit and veg. Well. Maybe not the veg.

Okay, probably not the veg.

"I can work an oven." She just chooses not to, that's it. This is a choice.

"That's not what I said?" Oh look, more people who want cupcakes, two teas, one coffee. They aren't complaining about beet root in their red velvet cake. Cassian gives them their food, takes their money, thanks them.

"I'm certain you could work an oven. More certain you could rig it to blow, if need be." A glance. "Need does not be, at the moment, for the record."

They don't know there is beet root in their cupcakes!!

"I wasn't going to blow up an oven for fun," she protests with a wrinkle of her nose. But she did immediately start thinking about it, so Cassian obviously nailed that right on the head. She is predictably in her impulsivity. It's oddly comforting that he knows her that well. They worked together though, before... Her head pounds just trying to think about it but all she can remember is a glistening green light and sand and ocean spray on her cheeks and the whiteness.

Which is surprisingly unhelpful.

"But you can invite me over for dinner if you're that concerned about my lack of cooking." She pops another dollop of frosting in her mouth.

And based on Jyn's reaction to that bit of information, they will never find out!

Cassian's eyebrows go up as if to say but you were thinking about it because he does know her. He knows her, and she can read him like a book, and it would be terrifying back home but they're here where it's comforting instead.

He'll worry about what it all means later (of course). For now he can relish the comfort. Somewhat.

"Alright then. Jyn Erso, I formally invite you to dinner. Tonight and any other; a standing invitation." He hopes she doesn't expect him to put it on embossed paper, or something.

What's this? Has Cassian pulled a smile from the perpetually surly expression of Jyn Erso? He certainly has. It's a small smile, disguised almost immediately by the bite of cupcake she finally takes, but it's definitely there.

She takes the time it takes to chew in order to coax it away. "I accept your formal invitation."

"Thanks." He doesn't exactly duck his head but it's a near thing; anyway, there's another small family to serve and Cassian goes back into pleasant mode, but he's still smiling and it's...less fake, somehow.

Not that strangers could tell, but. Jyn could.

She can tell, feeling a little warmer seeing more of his spy face melt away. (That's a weird phrase, spy face, she wonders idly where she got it from...) She prefers the real Cassian to any persona. Finally she sits down, tucking one leg underneath her, unconsciously settled in a way that would make bursting up from the chair easier, even as she basically inhales the remainder of the cupcake.

Her head hurts, like every time she follows a thread of a memory some where a drum sounds to slam gates closed before she can reach it.

"Does lo siento--" Oh god that accent is so bad that somewhere the Dos Equis man had a heart attack. "Does that mean I'm sorry?" She has assumed so based on tone and the context of their conversation but kriff if she knee what it actually meant. She knows she and Cassian aren't exactly from the same place considering his accent sounds like warm tea and hers is garbage.

Edited 2017-04-27 20:22 (UTC)

She's sitting, which means she's comfortable, which means she's a lot less likely to bolt at any second - barring extenuating circumstances, like things suddenly going to shit. Which means part of Cassian can relax, go back to watching her and the crowd interchangeably once the family moves on.

He doesn't cringe at her accent, but his eyes do crinkle in the corners. "It does." He gives a shrug. "And I am. I know it doesn't mean much, and later it might even mean less, but. I am sorry."

Anyway. "We can work on that...accent. The language. If you want."

Edited 2017-04-28 16:48 (UTC)

Her mouth slants into a frown because she wants to say he doesn't have anything to apologize for because some instinct has decided that is fact, but if he tries to argue she knows she won't be able to articulate why. She makes a mental note to fight about it later.

"Yeah, that'd be--" What? Nice, normal, totally something she is looking forward to? "Yeah." Once again, Jyn Erso has nailed it, proving time and time again that she totally knows how to accept kindness and good things with ease.

She frowns and he mentally braces for whatever her response will be...only for it not to come. He feels like it's there, on the horizon muddled by memory, and smiles just a little harder.

He's glad she's here. He feels guilty as hell, but he's glad too.

"Yeah," and it's teasing, a little, but he also moves to stand next to her and bumps her shoulder from where he stands. "It'll be good."

She makes a face at him like a snide cat, all scrunched up and annoyed and put upon. It is only 10% genuine disgruntlement, the remaining 90% is habit.

"I will punch you in the leg," she threatens half-heartedly. His leg happens to be near eye level and something about an injury, limping away. He could threaten her shoulder in the same way but he is a better man than she is so she doesn't suspect it is likely.

"I see how it is. I offer to teach you a language, you threaten me with violence." Yet he doesn't move any further from her, instead pressing his leg right up against her arm. "You'd threaten me for less, though."

He sounds fond. He should probably do something about that.

He isn't planning on it.

His tone does something warm to her, like butter on toast, but she shoves is down into a hole and covers it with cement and Giant's stadium like her feelings are Jimmy Hoffa's body -- none of those references being ones she would actually understand.

Instead she tilts her head a little into his side like a headbutt. "Well at least I know you know me."

She tilts her head into him and keeps it there, leaving Cassian wondering what to do with the hand closest to her. He's tempted to try running it through her hair, but it's a snarl in an elastic at the nape of her neck so that...probably wouldn't end well.

"Yeah," he says instead. What else can he say? "I'm glad you remember me. I'm sure you'll remember everything, eventually."

"That's what they tell me." But she is also glad she remembers Cassian -- she remembers family so it seemed only fair she would remember him too. The rest seem almost intangible, her mother long since dead and that memory stands out with terrifying clarity, of course she would remember her mother being murdered but forget any happy birthdays or holidays before then. Hell, she's forgotten her actual birthday and has no ID to speak of. She doesn't even know how old she is.

What an odd realization. She's already ripped off her hospital bracelet and burned it in a haze of crackling chemical smoke.

Regardless, her parents, Saw, Bodhi and Chirrut and Baze and Kay, they all seem less... real than Cassian. Maybe it just because he is here but there is still something stopping her from asking about their friends. She sits up straight again and scoops up her tea cup, focusing on the lukewarm tea instead of losing the warmth of Cassian and everything she doesn't know. Except: "How old am I?"

[ Continued here. ]

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