There was an accident. The details are hazy and obscure, but it's still the first thing you remember. Maybe a car wreck — metal and broken glass everywhere, and the sirens and the
screaming. Maybe your bike hit a rock and you careened uncontrollably off a mountain path. Maybe something less mundane, even impossible seems to have happened to you. You can't quite make out the details, not who was at fault or why. Try as you might, the chaos is all you can truly remember.
It's also the
last thing you remember from before waking up.
When you open your eyes, the accident is gone. Instead, you're in a hospital bed, and the nursing staff greet you with cheerful smiles.
Don't worry, they tell you. You'll make a full recovery here. Where is here? Why, home in Wayward Pines, of course!
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 | TRACK AND FIELD DAY |
With the current school semester coming to a close and summer vacation on the horizon, school administrators have elected to end the year on a high note with an invigorating Track and Field Day at the park, in order to better foster fitness and health in the children (outside of their government mandated physical education classes, anyway).
The event is, of course, open to the community at large, whether you have a current affiliation with the school or not. Because, well, everyone could stand to get up off their couches for an afternoon of running around in the sun. Or, in the case of residents with a particular sun allergy, under the shaded tarp canopies that dot the field here and there with healthy snacks, drinks, and some of the less expansive games available today (such as, oh, a nice sedate beanbag toss).
Wayward Pines thrives on the inclusion of all varieties of people, after all. Even those that aren't, strictly speaking, people at all.
All of the most recognizable games are available, of course: sack races, relay races, three-legged races, any sort of race you can think of, really; flag football and dodgeball with soft spongy balls to keep anyone from getting
too competitive (the school nurse is on hand just in case though); a massive tug-of-war rope that spans nearly the entire field; and water balloon and blanket tosses. If you're not too sure what the latter is you can ask Linda at the makeshift juice bar and she'll be all too glad to explain for you.
Actually, on second thought, don't ask Linda anything. Don't give her the satisfaction.
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), 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!
( a few notes )
Welcome to our fourth 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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bumfuckidaho2017-05-17 09:14 pm
TEST DRIVE MEME
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but, no. no use hanging around outside like a creep if you've been invited inside, and while gladio has a tendency to prefer salty over sweet, there's nothing wrong with the occasional indulgence, especially if it's accompanied by a pretty woman with eyes the color of a sky he might just remember.
( poetic, ain't it? ) ) No forgiveness needed, unless you've forgotten your name, too. ( a pause, and damn, he might just go for it. ) 'Cause I might just have to call you 'beautiful' 'til you remember. ( FOR FUCK'S SAKE. )
Mine's Gladio, by the way.
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her laugh is bright and astonished at that shameless flirtation and she covers her mouth. ]
It's nice to meet you, Gladio, [ she tells him when she drops her hand to push the door open to hear the jingle of a bell overhead. flirting is not natural to her but it seems that she has had some practice in her day. ]
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or, you know, if that's what they told you.
but, okay, look. flirting is something that has a tendency to come natural to him in any capacity — and even if he still doesn't remember much beyond some core things that came back to him a few days or so after his own accident, that sort of thing is kind of. ingrained into his being, and while he should probably feel just a little bit sheepish for it, it doesn't quite register.
she doesn't give him a name, and he doesn't even bat an eye when she pushes open the door in front of them, and he follows dutifully. ) You too, beautiful. ( oh. my. god. this is going to be an adventure, ain't it?
they gather inside, and he folds his arms over his chest, peering briefly ( and with moderate interest ) at the offerings in front of them. ) What's your poison? My treat.
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idly, she wonders how long she can keep this game going with him before she eventually has to give in and tell him her name. this is at least something she remembers! thank goodness. her flat shoes hardly make a sound on the tile, light on her feet and she spins around to face him.
holding a hand up in protest, elsa exclaims, turning red at the prospect, ] No, no, that isn't necessary! I'll give you my name instead. [ the jig is up so it seems. there's a least some money in her jacket pocket from a job that she apparently has. her hands are already going deep into the denim to get a few dollars. ]