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 | 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.
no subject
The memories clamoring against that constant feeling of wrongness only seemed to elevate the idea that not all was as it seemed. It was heightened by the notion that regardless of the people he thought he knew, he didn't actually know them. Neighbours were strangers regardless of their spotted pleasant conversation and lame jokes.
As he pulled away to take up his own investigations, his eyes flick to the approaching individual and, perhaps for the first time, there was actual recognition that seemed to line up where no other did. He had no memories of this guy, but there was something so moving in his gut about it that he actually found himself offering a grin in response. A man? A weapon? Both? Why did this suddenly feel very important?]
Oh well, you know me, always involved in something that takes me far and away. How have you been, pal?
no subject
So the corner of his mouth pulls up into a quick half-smile. There's nothing warm or particularly friendly about it, but he's not outwardly hostile, either. He's just... being an acquaintance. ]
The gym business takes you far and away? [ He asks it casually, as if he's actually interested in making small talk. Bucky shrugs a shoulder-- the human one-- and starts to slip more into his townie persona. None of that casual relaxation makes it to his eyes, though, which remain sharp and vigilant. ] I started a new job, so... Can't complain. You know how life is here.
no subject
He let none of that show even as he stepped further away from the crowd that was watching the fireworks. He had other places to be, hunches to explore and many conversations to process.
Of course, gym business made him raise an eyebrow before it came to him. Oh right, apparently he was a business owner? The sheriff had informed him, given him the keys and made chit-chat about some of the boys using the facility. Of course, he had been released not that long ago from the hospital and rooting around his house had been priority. So much surveillance after all.
Still, he knew how to hide his reactions and play it cool. Knew how to blend in and act like he was in the know.] Well, you know, equipment demos expos don't exactly make a pass to places like this. You have to go where the goods are. [He eyed the other man, reminded of the similarities in appearance with that airplane guy.] Oh yeah? Where are you working now?
no subject
And here I thought there were only so many types of punching bags you'd need. [ It's a wry remark, almost... a joke? Or, at least, an attempt at forcing himself to make one. He glances aside at Rumlow, watching his face as he answers: ] Weaver's. [ One of the bars in town-- possibly the only one worth going to, for some. ] You should stop by sometime.
[ It's said with the same neutrality as everything else. An invitation, but not a particularly sincere or enthusiastic one. Just playing the part he was given when he woke up in this town, using it to try to assess Rumlow's current state. ]
no subject
Please, there is more than punching bags in a gym and the more advanced the equipment, the better for the trainers and trainees. Always have to keep ahead of the curb, wouldn't you say? [It might be a joke, but he kept his more business attitude, also feeling out this man for answers as they verbally circled each other.]
Ah well, I'm getting a bit old for gold diggers and not much money to my name. I don't drink much and besides, it ain't no fun drinking alone. [It was a subtle invitation of his own, playing a card to see if the other man would offer some kind vulnerability or would take advantage of one in him. Drinking didn't feel like a good way to get to this guy though. Why was that?]