bumfuckidaho | test drive meme, june 2017

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test drive meme, june 2017

TEST DRIVE MEME

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.)

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
FOURTH OF JULY

If there's one thing to be said for Wayward Pines it's the town's resilience and staunch refusal to give up on the image of a picturesque little town, and July 4th this year has the community putting it's best foot forward in this regard with its annual 4th of July picnic and fireworks spectacular.

To hear anyone (Linda) familiar with the town talk (complain), this year is a much more sedate affair than any of the years prior, but in a lot of ways today is a very good opportunity for people to reconnect with their neighbors; chat quietly at a table, share a recipe, play some catch, or argue with Jerry over the proper way too cook a burger. Jerry never listens, of course, but thankfully the whole event is a pot luck so there are plenty of other, far more edible options for those with a more... discerning palate.

The day passes pleasantly, and the night? The night brings the fireworks. A beautiful cascade of bright colors and lights in the sky. Sparklers are handed out like party favors while everyone is strongly encouraged to play safe by a long-suffering and weary looking sheriff. After all, the town has had quite enough excitement by this point, don't you think?

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 fifth 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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"You'd get along with them when it comes to technology." Hopefully not about the other things but Alec would probably find that out soon... "Sometimes the old tech is better."

"Wayward Pines." He probably could be more specific but 'away' had been the main draw without details really settling in once they decided that they wanted to find somewhere quiet to live. "An accident?" It was the usual reason for the memory loss. Sometimes Alec wondered why he bothered to ask, but maybe someone would actually remember what had happened to them. "My husband and I moved here few months ago. I run the record store. Which you should be safe in if you can deal with a few later era turntables."

I have my doubts. [ his being hunched over and breathing like he's just run a marathon isn't helping his argument of i'm fine, so he's going to have to forgive her if she's not buying it. ]

[ it takes her some time to get down there, because offroading and heels don't exactly go hand in hand. ] It's never too late. [ and at this rate she might be joining herself. the doctor had told her to take it easy over the next couple of weeks, but being busy is what she does... though this is certainly tipping the scales. ]

[ she reaches him just as he turns, gaping in disbelief for a moment before she's got to laugh despite being winded. of all the people to run into. ] Chasing you, apparently. Are you alright? I heard a... scream... [ but as she combed her eyes over him she realized that, exhaustion aside, he was fine. ] I take it that's why you're out here?

iii. fourth of july

[ Okay, so he's spent the entire time since waking up in this town telling everybody his name is something that it's apparently not, and he wants to feel worse about that except he isn't actually completely sure what his name actually is if it isn't Jack, so there's nothing else to do but just go with it? He guesses?

But he's not Jack. That much he's pretty sure about. ]

Hey, uh, babe. I'm Jack. The... one and only.

[ And oh god he's so embarrassed for himself but he doesn't know how to stop this. He doesn't know what else to do. He's so alone in this place and not even his half-eaten corndog is helping. ]

What a night for shooting a whole bunch of explosives into the sky, huh? Heh heh. Nothing weird about any of this.

iv. jack here; the real one 📣

Sup kiddos, sssoooo heeeyyy, shot in the dark but—what's a devastatingly handsome guy gotta do to get, y'know, out of the creepy small-town hellscape here? Like. I can't be the one hearing that, right? The... howling? Noises? I-I mean, no big deal, I guess, but the last guy I tried asking just gave me this look like I had three heads and I think he might have peed a little.

Uh, semi-related: say I need a gun. For. Y'know. Gun reasons. Thanks in advance, ask for Jack. A-buh-bye.

Yeah, but you might not want to come out here if you’ve got a weak stomach. [ it’s not an award winning deterrent, but she’s hoping it keeps a few people from butting in on her investigation. but while there isn’t anything worth losing your lunch over there are some very clear signs of a struggle. ]

[ when scott arrives on the scene jan’s buzzing over a couple of footprints, doing her best not to disturb them and, instead, see if she can’t commit the strange patterns to memory. she’s not sure how much help, if any, that’ll be, since the victim seems to have vanished into thin air. ]

I guess nothing phases you, huh? [ returning to normal size jan perches herself on a fallen log, swinging her legs with a smile thrown in scott’s direction. ] Looks like we just missed whatever was out here.

☂ welcome to wayward pines

[ An accident, they said. Ethan wakes up with a laundry list of exotic injuries and aches: bruises everywhere, cuts and scrapes, chest painted over with burns, left pinky gone. They'd pulled glass out of his arms and knees; he'd overheard them saying so. And yet the worst thing of all is the way his head throbs, like it's the freshest pain of all, as he slowly hauls himself up and out of bed, detaching himself from IV lines and machinery as if in a fugue—only to be caught before he reaches the door, scolded, and put back to bed.

This happens twice during his stay, so by the time Ethan's ready to run for a third time they seem to fall toward a natural, mutual impasse: grudging but obedient, Ethan fills out a thin stack of forms as best he can around the giant blank spots in his memory, they give him his bloodied clothes, and he's directed into town without further resistance.

His address is filled in already when he signs out.

It feels wrong, everything does, really—but the neighbors all chalk it up to the accident, so he's not sure what else to do. Keep to himself, mostly. ]

☂ fourth of july

[ It's not all bad here. Ethan doesn't like crowds as a general rule, doesn't do well in them—he has a distinct recollection of feeling trapped and like time has stopped, not being able to breathe, certain he's going to die—but it's a clear and pleasant evening (Linda notwithstanding) and a decent chance to catch up besides.

But it's also like he's seeing things and people for the first time, like when you repeat a word enough times that it loses its meaning, becomes unrecognizable. Lately, whether he's shopping on the main drag or brooding over a beer at the corner bar, Ethan finds himself watching as people go about their business, studying his neighbors, and occasionally looking as though he'd really like to say something. He's always had the vague sense that people pity him; the most recent accident hadn't been his first, after all, family history lined with tragedy. Lonely amnesiac Ethan Mars, 38, divorced, one dead son (hence the divorce). But every time he's got half a mind to pack up and leave this town, something gives him pause. ]

I'm—sorry. What? I... wasn't listening.

[ He thinks he might've killed somebody. ]

That's— that's weirdly formal, she thinks. But she still takes the hand, and shakes it. "Jessica Jones. Are you, uh, from around here?"

The unspoken thing in that question is that she isn't.

[ Lady, he's not going to cry from your invasion of his personal space! Jefferson's far from that fragile. He's just a bit prickly. Jefferson looks down at that hand that's now on his arm. ]

Jefferson. [ A fancy name for a fancy man? Or is Jefferson a fancy name at all? Eh. He'll endure the touch. ]

But they can be beneficial, you have to admit. Certain labels.

[ Ana's one bright eye is sharp and thoughtful on Max, and she nods somewhat at her greeting. ]

Ana. [ There was a time she'd have offered more than just the one name; a title, an explanation. Now all she offers is her hand, for a handshake. ] I'm new, too — though it took some doing to realize that. Are your memories feeling foggy?

[Not now, obviously. Eventually! Eventually there will be crying and it's going to be hilarious.

For now, it's just mild disdain and pretenses and pushing buttons until something sticks. Jefferson is a fancy a name as any. It suits him. She approves. Since the touch is thus far endured, she'll just go and push the envelope a bit by giving his upper arm a squeeze. Hmmm. Not bad. Not great, but it'll do.]

Are you looking for a label that includes... benefits?

Come on, don't be a party pooper about it.

[ Though it's not like it's anything out of the ordinary. Even if Jessica Jones stands high on the pedestal of role model in Kate's life, the contrast of personality traits couldn't come with more of a clash. Kate likes the more "fun and games" approach of heroing, while Jess was ... well, Jess knew how to take care of business.

Still, that was all the more reason for Kate to stay true to her pestering nature as she waves the sparkler in front of the older woman, small flickers of light falling to the grass. ]

Think about this — you can just flick it at people who get on your nerves. [ Wait. ] Except me. I have gal pal immunity.

I. What. Sass? No, no, it was a genuine question honestly, I have reason to believe they're quite fond of them. Magic wands that it. And baboons.

I was only curious to see if there was a pattern of behavior.

[ Why does he feel like a piece of meat right now? It's not a good feeling! Jefferson lifts a brow, unsure of what to make of this. She's not being serious, of course.

Is she?

No. She isn't.

...or she is.

Whatever! He gives her a look of mock regret. ]

I'm afraid I'm off the market.

Edited 2017-06-20 01:57 (UTC)

[ Jessica looks at Kate, looks at the proffered sparkler, scowls, but takes it. While scowling. Look at this tough guy face over here. ]

Can I use it to burn somebody's dick off?

[ 💡 Jessica Jones tip #15: fireworks safety is very important. ]

What kind of shit are you into that you have reasons to believe that about baboons.

Nothing too fantastic, I assure you. New York is simply a very interesting place to visit.

ON3: welcome!

[ At first it feels familiar: the fluorescent lights, so bright she can see the inside of her eyelids, and their ever present droning hum, the continuous beep of a heartrate machine. she's done this before, many times, though right now her mind can't reach the specific memories...must be the anesthesia still wearing off. Then all at once it's very unfamiliar. As Angel opens her eyes and looks first at a ceiling she doesn't recognize, then turns her head to an entire room she's never seen before. That's strange, even though the specifics are blurry she knows that she always woke up in the same place.

Stranger still, she's completely alone. All other times as she roused from drug induced sleep she'd be welcomed by the sight of her dad, in the chair beside her bed, head propped up on his hand as he slept, pacing back and forth on the other side of the room with worried anticipation, always there to be the first to greet her and assure her it was all a success.

And things continue this way as she gets up, using the IV stand linking the bag of mysterious fluid to her arm to support her as she shuffles her way into the hall, into yet another completely unfamiliar place. There has to be someone around with answers, so she'll walk until she finds some form of life. ]

7HR33: fourth of July

[ That gunpowder could be used for something beautiful isn't something Angel could have ever imagined (though beauty is subjective, she's sure that knowing what she does remember about Pandora that there were plenty of people who considered the violence down there a work of art) though being up-close to the action, being outside at all, is still something she's adapting to. That these explosives aren't being used to blow some psychos brains out and instead entertain the people of the town with no casualties is just another drop in the bucket of things that are different here. Not that she's complaining.
Without being connected to an infinite wealth of information as she was back home, she has to rely on others for information, so she asks aloud for whoever is nearest to hear ]

I wonder who had the idea to use explosives in such an...untraditional way.

Edited 2017-06-20 04:05 (UTC)

( one )

[finn wakes up in the hospital, and that part feels right, but there is something about the atmosphere that feels off. unfamiliar. his back is sore, and that feels right too, but he has no idea where he is at all. there is an instinct to hide, so finn sneaks out in his hospital gown, and the back of it slides a little off his back as he escapes the hospital itself and hurries through the town, giving a glimpse of a long burn scar down his back. he wishes he could remember what it was from, but he's more concerned about finding actual pants.]

Hey, you! Where can I find some clothes?

( two )

[the scream sends a chill up his spine. any uncertainty about the town gets overrun by the need to help, and finn finds himself bursting into a run towards the sound. anyone he asks says it's best to ignore it, but he can't.]

[it doesn't stop him from running up to people almost out of breath, anyone he sees on the street.] Did you hear that? Please tell me you heard that, and don't tell me that's normal!

( three )

[there is so much food and finn doesn't know what to do with it. it has flavor and smells and his stomach rumbles because he takes too long shuffling between everything and trying to decide what he wants. he's not used to having options, so he'll gesture at people, with a sort of faux casualness because he doesn't want anyone to know he has no idea what most of it is.] You got a favorite?

[by the time the fireworks roll around, he's stuffed his face, but he's frowning. he feels like he's seen fireworks before, he knows he has here at the pines, but it makes him uncomfortable. like the fancy explosions are meant for a celebration of something more menacing and bloody. catch him sitting unhappy on a bench, fidgeting with his fighter pilot jacket while the fireworks keep going on over head and he studiously pretends they're not. someone hands him a sparkler, but he wrinkles his nose, and immediately passes it off to the next person he sees.] You can have it.

Elsa, with a star spangled handkerchief tied around her ponytail, had wanted to make a day of it. It has taken her some time to fully recover from recent events here but she does think a party ( a subdued party ) is just the thing.

That and she had asked Gladio to view the fireworks with her later. Very important things.

Cloud's joke merits at least a small laugh behind her popsicle. "Goodness, what a terrible spoon-eating creature."

Is that the name of a sex cult headquarters, or.

[ He hands it off to someone who doesn't want it, either. Someone who's been watching him instead of the fireworks, because the fireworks are too much like the lights above Takodana. Someone who's been watching him with warring feelings of delight and horror. He couldn't be happier that Finn is here; he couldn't possibly want Finn to be home more than he does.

Finn is here, though. Finn is here, Finn is awake, he's okay.

That's the thought that tips the scales: Finn is okay.

Poe shoves the sparkler into the hands of the nearest non-Finn entity and takes the two steps that bring him in hug range. Which he does. He hugs Finn fiercely, without stopping to think that maybe his friend doesn't, y'know, remember him. ]

What.

I thought it was a pretty simple yes or no question.

There's hardly anything simple about.
I'm sure I don't know what you.

Merlin's beard, New York is a city, what sort of person do you take me for?

[Hannah looks from the corndog to Tim and back again. Judgmentally.]

That was some fucking stunning wit right there, mister one and only. [It's like she can smell the embarrassment coming off of him.] Did you have to kill every other Jack to get the title or just knock them around until they forgot their own names?

A baboon fucker?

Using writing to talk to people makes it so difficult to get meaning across, damn.

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