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
threev--i mean three.
The point is, no one cares if just occasionally (daily) he nips off with a bottle of something strong enough to guarantee he continues not to think too hard about any of this, ergo: he is, conveniently, in search of Margo, and arrives in time to watch this adorable (to...him) display of the lady in question, uh. Being herself.
He appears magically next to her (or he has miles of leg and thus only needs two steps) and offers his arm for linkage, bottle dangling precariously from his other hand.
"Now, now, Bambi." With approximately seven hundred times the melodrama it deserves. "Mustn't put too much Fear of the Destroyer into the locals. All things in moderation, as they say."
As they who are objectively wrong say, his expression suggests. Lolingly.
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"They also say we're living in sin." Her eyes roll so hard she might find a brain back there but alas. Margo is sure the home they selected for her is perfectly appropriate for a middle aged housewife with no self-worth or dignity, but the moment she found Eliot, Margo moved them in together and that was fucking that.
"Gimme that." She reaches for his bottle, but compared to his giant condor wingspan, she is a hummingbird.
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"Margo." Intent. Focused. He is about to ask a question that looks deep into her very soul, and none but the basest honesty will suffice for an answer. "Are you saying to me, right now, in this very significant shared moment of our strangely bucolic and yet somehow restful lives," pause, pause pause, build the tensiiiooooon and: "there is sinning going on I don't know about? In our picturesque little hovel, no less?"
In an aside of actual seriousness, Eliot can only be this uh, Eliot because Margo is here. Out of the gray fog that made up his mind when he first woke up, she was this one shining point of certainty, the paired star in the binary system that is the only place he really feels safe. Naturally he's going to express this by yelling about sin, like...what is the alternative? Talk about feelings? Hard pass, thank you ever so much.
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"No." Which is horrifying because they made their names at Brakebills on sin and wild Bacchanalian orgies that sometimes were actually orgies and, god, so much alcohol and now she's trapped in some alternate dimension where she's not even Queen so what is the point of giving up the indulgences of the real modern world.
"There is zero sin, Eliot, and it's driving me insane." With a sadly dramatic sigh, her head drops to rest against his shoulder, which she barely reaches even with her heels on. He is literally a foot taller than her. "How simple to you have to be to think that's we're shaking up?"
Well, Margo...
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....anyway. Eliot considers this conundrum, finally deigning to present the bottle to Margo like it's the Holy Grail, "Mmm. We are the two best dressed and well groomed people in town." A gentle sigh. "They probably think we deserve each other."
Yes Eliot, most of Wayward Pines probably thinks that, although not in the way you're saying it. "If I spot any fresh young things in need of sin, you'll be the very second to know."
Because Eliot himself will be the first, naturally. Probably. He might be feeling generous that day, who knows! He's also. Still not sure his dick works, but is understandably dying to find out. "Shall we find something to stir this in? Somewhere to sit and people watch?"
By that he means "judge."