TEST DRIVE MEME, MARCH 2019

[officialnotice]

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

(SLICE OF LIFE)

A HOPPING GOOD TIME

Easter may not be for another month, but this year the festivities kicked off early (possibly due to the unseasonably warm weather? temperatures have reached highs that could almost be mistaken for summer, especially by veteran residents). Yards are decorated with inflatable bunnies and chicks, and you'll find your eyeballs assaulted by pastels virtually everywhere you go.

(Linda's house boasts the most elaborate and yet perfectly tasteful of decorations. No one dares declare otherwise.)

Mid-April culminates in an Egg Hunt (for the kids!) that doubles as all-purpose revelry: a townwide gathering on the lush green expanse of the Play Field. Easter ham is provided in quantity; with sides to be provided by, well, you!

(Does "sides" mean alcohol? Probably. Does it mean "anything that isn't ham?" Hopefully!)

Wayward Pines’ moderate handful of children scatter about in the meantime, their attention span significantly shorter than an all-day event; by the time they've wandered off, most if not all of the brightly colored plastic eggs have been plucked from the field and loaded up into baskets, where their plunderers will later find little Crackerjack-style toys. Though... that doesn't seem to be the end of the eggs after all; the observant may note a few still winking from behind a tree or under the bleachers. More interestingly, they may further note these seem to be more the Fabergé variety, at least in size and ostentation.

Go on, investigate! It'll be fun! At least, for a certain type of person who enjoys a certain type of prize. The contents look like they might be from the estate sale of an elderly eccentric: old jewelry, an ornate spoon, etc (....wait, was that a pair of dentures? huh). Occasionally, a slightly less innocuous prize can be discovered - is that hand-sewn doll with real human hair a child’s toy, or something subtly occultic?

Oh well. Given the monsters outside the fence and the hallucinogenic mushrooms in town, that's probably not the weirdest thing you'll see this week.

option two

(HORROR)

LET'S SEE WHAT'S IN SPORE

The stowaway came through the fence unnoticed, clinging imperceptibly to the the clothes and shoes of an unsuspecting team of homecoming expeditioneers - at least, that’s what Ortech’s mycologists will conclude in their thorough investigation in the weeks to come. Here and now, there’s a new, colorful addition to the flora of the town. Seemingly overnight, clusters of mushrooms (vivid blue and shaped a little bit like brains) are sprouting in dark, wet places throughout the woods. They’re quite pretty and also large, reaching roughly a foot in height.

Perhaps you’re curious about this new addition and reached out to touch one by choice. Perhaps you’ve stumbled upon it entirely by accident. Perhaps you have no idea they’re even present until it’s too late.

The mushrooms release spores into the air, almost cloyingly sweet in scent, though it doesn’t seem like anything is wrong right away. No itchiness, no watering eyes, no trouble breathing. Colors may seem a little brighter, but that’s about it.

In roughly thirty minutes, that all changes.

For anywhere between an hour and a day, characters experience many or all of a host of symptoms including nausea, loss of appetite, dry mouth, uncoordinated movements, and intensified sensory experiences. But oh, that's not all. It can also come with visual disturbances (maybe even hallucinations), disordered thinking, paranoia, mild or dramatic mood changes, mixed senses ("seeing" sounds, "hearing" colors), detachment from reality, outright panic, and changes in the perception of time itself.

Don’t worry: It doesn’t seem to be fatal. Here's hoping you have someplace quiet and comfy to ride out the trip, because it’s probably gonna be a bad one.

option three

(ACTION-ADVENTURE)

A SAMPLE EXPEDITION

The crisp morning air finds you lingering at the base of a watchtower just inside the northwestern fence. You’ve signed up for an expedition - maybe your first, or maybe you’ve lost count - and here’s hoping you’re a morning person, because you’ve been told to rendezvous at this patch of fence at no later than 8 AM.

Your teammate in this expedition has yet to arrive. Maybe they’re a friend - someone you know from home, or a friend you’ve made here in Wayward Pines - and the two of you signed up together. Maybe you’re paired up with a stranger, another solo adventurer looking to make tracks outside of the safe zone without waiting for a solo expedition to show up on the roster. Maybe you’re a designated expedition chaperone, assigned to guide someone who doesn’t have clearance of their own. Maybe you don’t have clearance, and your teammate is the chaperone assigned to guide you. Either way, they have five more minutes before they’re late, so they should be showing up pretty soon!

Your destination can be any number of things depending on the make-up of your expedition duo. Two combatants might be fetching a rumored supply cache, or maybe they’re routing and destroying the home nest of a small band of abbies that have wandered a little too close to Wayward Pines for Ortech’s comfort. A team with a scientist may be on an expedition to catalogue or discover the local flora and fauna - or a more generalized academic might be in search of a private library documented to exist nearby. A techie or mechanic may be responsible for repairing and fetching a valuable vehicle (for example, a helicopter), or maybe they’re assigned to repair functionality to a nearby radio tower. Basically: Go ahead and wing it. Make shit up. The apocalypse is your oyster and we’d rather you go nuts with the details than worry about not getting things precisely right.

For the sake of this Test Drive, your expedition route can be whatever you’d like it to be, but this example route will be the same regardless of destination.

Your destination is about five miles from the safe zone within the fence. You depart through a well-concealed and well-guarded gate in the northwestern fence, where the map you’ve been given tells you to curve to the right up a path that leads to the top of the northern cliffs. From here, all of Wayward Pines is visible below you - but you definitely can’t afford to linger long if you plan to make it back by nightfall. The path back down is steeper, with a scattering of loose rocks that make footing tricky.

From there, you head due north through a river valley. Your map strongly suggests you detour through the trees, indicating aberration activity along the clearer riverbanks, but the forest is dense and will absolutely slow you down. The choice is yours either way.

Your destination is just past the end of the valley, but nothing in life is simple, and the river seems to be damming up behind a fresh new rockslide that blocks the mouth of the valley and your destination along with it. This is the final obstacle to clear before your destination - but you’re likely behind schedule, and it’s time to decide if you dare stay the night out here in the wild or try to hoof it back to the fence in the fading light.

(If you’re in the mood for some combat, you’re welcome to toss in an aberration attack if they choose to trek along the riverbanks... Or at the rockslide, a terribly convenient place for an unexpectedly well-designed ambush.)

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! The network has text, audio, and video functionality via the smartphones provided to each character when they arrive.

MOD NOTES

Welcome to our pre-opening 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.

Comments

Ikrie - Horizon Zero Dawn - OTA

[snow_ghost]

2. Let's See What's In Spore

[It was the color of these new mushrooms that really drew Ikrie to them.

Blues - bright blues, in particular - have a spiritual significance to her people. It's the color of the sky, the color of the blue light that inhabits machines that inhabit her world, the color of bluegleam and even the ice of the glaciers she was raised on take on a light blue color.

Not that Ikrie remembers all of that, of course. But the sight of the blue mushrooms must have rung some kind of bell, because she found her eyes drawn to them the first time she saw them.

She was just stepping closer to take a closer look, in fact, when the mushroom's released a cloud of spores without warning - causing the young, hooded woman to cough and sputter as she stumbles back a few feet.]

Ack - shit! Right in my mouth, ew.

[Oh, is this your yard these mushrooms were growing in?

Well, don't mind her. Ikrie is just gonna hack up a lung and spit right into your bushes, as she tries to get the taste of unborn fungi out of her mouth.]


3. Sample Expedition

[Ikrie taps her foot impatiently as she waits by the fence for her expedition partner - her impatience only magnified by the fact that she's been here since 6:45.

The dangers beyond the fence don't scare her. In fact, she's eager to see them, now that she's finally been approved to leave (honestly, she tried to leave before that, but she was convinced by some guards to go through the proper channels first).

Wayward Pines.... The people here, Ortech, they act like this place makes some kind of sense. A calm, quiet town in a world that has lost itself to a plague of madness. A gem of peace and safety in a world full of danger.

But that doesn't make any sense at all to Ikrie. A world that wants to kill you feels like it should be the natural, default state of things. Surviving should be a challenge. Keeping each other alive would be one thing, that much she could get, but... there are people in town who never leave. Who don't ever hunt for their own food, they just eat what's provided to them.

It's bizarre. The people here are like ghosts, haunting some half-remembered past that Ikrie never really knew.

It's the most cursed kind of life she can imagine for herself - and she's ready to get out of this place, and see what the rest of the world is like. Which is why she's pacing so much - and why she so visibly perks up when she hears someone approaching.]

Well it's about time. I was about to head out there on my own.

[Despite that, the smile she gives her new companion is an earnest one. She pulls the bow from its place on her back and gives them a nod.]

You all ready, then?

speaking of blue

[takenalive]

[A large but relatively dainty alien appears around the side of the house. He's all metallic blue with some tan mixed in, and regards the coughing human with some consternation.

After a moment he approaches carrying a bucket of water hooked over his tail near the blade, and stretches the end of that tail forwards, plunking the bucket down between them. He 'sounds' resigned more than anything, he's folded his slender arms.]

<Humans breathe and eat with your mouths, don't you. Here. I assume this helps.>

[euphemism]

Walking with an easy lope, Greyjay approaches Ikrie and looks her over. Looking rather like their namesake, Greyjay cocks their head to one side and after a moment, they seem satisfied and nods in agreement. "Yeah, yeah, I’m good to go."

They've got a simple rucksack with a few simple supplies and are dressed for hiking – lightweight clothing that looks as if it can hold up to a good deal of wear and tear, proper boots, and a bandana around their neck. "How long you planning to be out for? 'Cause, I dunno if I want to, ah, move out into the woods? Not yet, anyway. City rat when I can, you know? Not that this is much of a proper city, shite."

let's see what's in spore

[ouzel]

[ Ikrie is in someone's yard and that someone opens the window right above the lilac bushes that Ikrie is hawking up into.

He's within reach, maybe a foot or two away from her, and has an eyebrow cocked in her direction. ]

Long night?

[ Then he notices the mushrooms growing in the yard and frowns at them. Where the hell did those come from? ]

...huh.

Alloran-Semitur-Corrass | Animorphs | OTA

[takenalive]

[Alloran is a large, fine-boned centaurlike alien with no mouth, four eyes, and a long bladed tail. He's metallic blue with some tan markings and doesn't yet remember enough about his life or his training to recall his xenophobia or entirely suppress his inborn Andalite optimism.]

All Grace And Power

[Andalites do not habitually lay flat on an elevated surface, so easing off of the hastily rigged platform set up to fit him was difficult, but he's upright now and a little uneasy at the closeness of the walls. And at floors which are too slick for hooves to move easily across. Not to mention the sense that as bewildering and frustrating as this is it's wonderful to be here because something isn't here with him.

But the main thing right now is that his tailblade is safety-bound in so much foam and tape it seems twice its usual size. He's standing in a lobby with his tail curved around so the encumbrance is right in front of him, trying to pry off the tape and visibly disgusted. The sticky side of that tape feels deeply unpleasant on his fingers.

Pause to look at him and he'll notice you with a stalk-mounted eye and have a comment.]

<If you have enough time to stare you have enough time to help me with this. I see no one bound you up.>

I've Never Been Overconfident In My Life (iirc)

[The Andalite is waiting for whoever's assigned to go out on this expedition with him. He has the sense that if he was younger he would rear up, balance on his hind legs and a length of tail in a show of impatience and vigor. He's not old enough to start going dull in the hoof but he's not young, either, so instead he paws at the grass with a forehoof. If you're paying enough attention you can see that a few blades stick to the underside and are drawn out of sight.

He's not great with machines and he's not a scientist but he can watch surroundings, move quickly, has that bladed-bullwhip tail, and has the ability to morph into those few creatures he knows he's acquired already, and whatever new things he could acquire now. The Andalite is positive of success.]

<You and me, eh? Are you ready to get out there?>

grace & power

[paintjobs]

[ Knock Out's actual body is elsewhere — he hasn't woken with the rest of the arrivals here, and his body wouldn't fit inside anyway. It's parked neatly at some curb, nevermind about that. What does wander through the interior of the hospital, though, is a semi-solid human hologram. He's dressed it to look like the aliens around here (except, you know, better, there's no way he's copying any of those scrubs or hospital gowns), with the addition of wide, dark sunglasses that he saw on someone. He won't stoop to changing his eyes to look more human, so the sunglasses are a compromise.

The Andalite sticks out immediately, and after briefly consulting his mental database of lifeforms he's encountered (strangely full of holes at the moment, how odd), Knock Out decides this must be a new one, and makes a beeline for the four-legged something or other. The voice in his mind's ear is odd, but not so different from internal comms. It gives him barely a pause. ]

I would lend a hand, but ...

[ But this hologram, as solid and convincing as it may look, has some pretty low dexterity. But Knock Out doesn't need all his memories intact to remember it's a bad idea to hand out your secrets as easy as that. He needs an excuse. ]

—I'm contagious. [ He mimes a cough. This is how humans do it, right? ] Deathly contagious. You wouldn't want to catch this ... this fuel pump rust, it's nothing but bad news.

arthur morgan / red dead redemption 2

[buckskin]

let's get hopping

[ Perhaps the analogy is a bit too on the nose for, you know, a dang cowboy, but Arthur had felt too much like a newborn foal since waking up in that hospital — all shaky and unsure and like one misstep might send him tumbling head-over-heels. Metaphorically tumbling, that is, because in place of wobbly baby legs he's got a brain swimming with memories that don't quite add up. He has a house that's always been his house, neighbors who've always been his neighbors, and an unrelenting feeling that he ought to be out there, in the open, living off the land. The feeling that this civilized life isn't really his.

But, wobbly unrelenting feelings aside, there's one thing he knows without a trace of doubt: everything going on here, with the rabbits and the soft colors and the plastic eggs, is irrefutable nonsense.

No amount of drinks or ham or potato salad or flawless deviled eggs can change that. He knows, because he's tried. A lot. In fact, many drinks and many hams later he still thinks this is awful and he should go home.

But... he hasn't yet. Why, you ask? Well, because someone (that's you) has, for whatever reason, enlisted his help in the Infamous Egg Hunt. Arthur was rather inclined to say no but, as he is wont to do, he relented with minimal pestering and is now prodding along the grass hunting for splashes of color nestled among tree roots and clumps of daffodils. ]

Look, [ he says, a bit grumpily after having an egg snatched up from right under his nose by a more astute egg hunter, ] I ain't saying folks shouldn't have fun but don't you think this all seems a bit... foolish?

[ He gestures widely at foolish, indicating absolutely everything in his general vicinity because, again, the giant rabbits are pretty dumb. (But for the record he'd find it to be precisely 5% less foolish if the egg snatcher hadn't struck just moments before.) ]

a sample expedition

[ Volunteering to head outside the town seems to satisfy that pervasive sense that Arthur ought to be out there under the open sky, sleeping beneath the stars. At least for now. As he waits for his partner he finds himself wishing they could set up camp out there. Maybe do some hunting. It's an idiot notion and he knows it but it does sound nice all the same.

He's rather caught up in these flights of fancy as he gives his rifle one last inspection. So caught up that he's not so concerned when his companion shows up a bit late, though he remarks on it all the same. ]

Well! I was beginning to think you weren't planning on showing, friend.

[ He stands, slings the rifle over his shoulder. ]

If I'm honest I think this is a fool's errand and we must be the two biggest fools in town for volunteering but who am I to say? [ They're after that mythical supply cache. You know the one, up there in sample paragraph three. Arthur nods towards the great scary wild wilderness beyond. ] Shall we?

sample expedition

[snow_ghost]

[Approaching Arthur is a young woman wearing a hooded garment made of fur and leather that has been dyed blue. She's got a bow on her back and a spear in her hand, and she grins nearly ear to ear as she approaches.]

Nah, I wouldn't miss this. Any excuse to get out of this place.

[She's very much of the same mind as him. This town isn't wear she belongs - much like Arthur, Ikrie finds herself drawn to the lands beyond these walls.

It's hard to explain. The way the people live here, it's... stagnant. Wrong, in a way that she has trouble articulating. And at the very core of her being, she feels the dangerous wilds outside the town's border are calling to her. Places like that, where the world actually challenges you, that's where she's meant to be.

That's part of why she doesn't wait for Arthur to lead the way. As soon as he's up, and his rifle is on his back, she's already making her way toward the gate and up the winding path beyond it. ]

You been out beyond the fence before?

Breakdown | Transformers Prime | OTA

[totalhammertime]

[option 1]

[A dark blue armoured truck looms ominously on a curb while the merriment of some Earth holiday goes around it. It's been decorated with some Easter stickers and someone had the nerve to throw some curly confetti all over his hood. Frankly, Breakdown couldn't have looked more out of place, but he simply can't move without squishing anyone.

He doesn't want to take part in whatever's going on, but he can't seem to avoid it either.]

This bites.

[The armoured truck mutters to itself as another excited pack of humans swerves around it.]

[paintjobs]

[ There's a cherry red Aston Martin parked elsewhere, parked somewhere safer, whose engine runs with a low and vaguely threatening purr whenever someone looks like they may get curiously close. It's working out pretty well so far. But in light of how crowded these streets are, and how penned in he'd feel if he left this alleyway — he's sent out a red-suited, sunglasses-wearing holoform, indistinguishable from the humans around it except for the way it's sometimes ... not quite solid, if anyone brushes it unexpectedly. And of course the fact that it's dressed so well, what a sharp looking fellow that is making his way through the crowds.

His extended visual sensors don't pick up the armored truck until he's nearly bumped into it, but then his own surprise registers all the way through and onto the holoform's face once he has. He's not sure where he is or why, but oh, he knows that truck. ]

Break— [ He slides in closer, a scowl behind his wide sunglasses, brushing confetti off of the tall hood. ] Do you know how you look right now? Those stickers aren't going to come up easily.

[ Also hello, glad to see you, where the hell are they, but all that takes backseat to the real issue at hand. ]

Gansey | The Raven Cycle | OTA

[affection_for_research]

Option 1

Gansey had the odd feeling that he should be searching for something. He wasn't sure what that item might be, but he couldn't resist the impulse to start looking around the field for the Easter eggs that had been ignored or forgotten. Occasionally he found a few of the plastic Easter eggs and gave them to one of the kids that wandered by. He didn't really think of his need to find something more until he saw something glittering beneath the bleachers. Opening the brightly colored egg, he tipped a tiny crown made of twigs onto his palm. "What a strange creation."

Option 4

[Gansey dislikes the idea of communicating through video, but that discomfort doesn't show in his polite smile and his polished demeanor. He seems at ease and he chose to send out the message at an hour that shouldn't be offensive to most of the town.]

Has anyone seen a bright orange 1973 Camaro? I remember owning one, but I seem to have misplaced it.

Option 4

[keepthehurt]

What's a Camaro?

[ someone! is here! and ready to help! if only he had a fucking clue what you're talking about right now gansey. also there's something very... odd about this boy's video. a flatness and emptiness to his background that just doesn't seem natural.]

simon snow | carry on | ota

[aurulentus]

a hopping good time

[ as much as waking up alone in a hospital with hazy memories of grit and blood smears and the choke of smoke can be distressing, simon snow is not the type to sit down with his shock and wallow. or otherwise think about it at all. which means he absolutely shows up for the egg hunt, sporting an appropriately bright yellow hoodie and a will the size of one of those blow-up bunnies to ignore anyone that would like to remind him he's over the age of like, twelve. he promises he won't snipe any small child's bounty.

the fabergé eggs require a little more finesse than just sifting your hands through a tall patch of grass, and he won't hesitate to ask for help once someone passes by him and his next target, the glittery form sitting pretty up between some tree branches. ]

Hey, would you mind giving me a boost? [ he jabs his thumb in the direction of the egg, helpfully. ] We can split whatever's inside. Y'know, if it's splittable.

[ you may be wondering why the boy with the pair of red, leathery wings requires a boost, but is it really polite to ask? ]

on the network

( un: snow )

01. [ attached is a photo of a vintage grapefruit spoon complete with intricate rose designs. ] ... what kind of posh crap is this??
02. anyone know what to do with a sword when you're not using it?
03. tell me your favorite comfort food

a hopping good time

[hello_goodbye]

[ klaus can't remember the last time he's been to any sort of easter celebration, particularly one so theoretically quaint, and to be entirely honest he'd already slid a full bottle of alcohol in the deep pockets of his coat before he even notices the theme for the day.

he's skirting the edges of the festivities now with his booty to avoid linda's judging, eagle eyes and observing the whole thing with the sort of distant bemusement only someone taking shots of vodka straight from the bottle at 10 am can, and it takes him a moment to realize that simon is speaking to him.

at which point he stares vaguely at simon's wings for all of about three seconds, tilts his head to see if anyone else in the vicinity has reacted at all to simon's request, shrugs and sways closer to peer up into the branches as well. ]

What sorts of things do they usually stuff inside these little suckers then?

[ and more importantly, are they easily pawnable. ]

on the network: 02

[keepthehurt]

( un: Guest#235421 )

you mean it doesnt just disappear when youre done with it?

OH RIGHT that egg one

[atramentum]

Famous last words, Snow.

[ faux-sneers baz, who does not believe for a second that if what is inside is edible, Simon won't fight him for every last crumb. with his fists. or sword, if necessary. that'd be the equivalent of walking away from so, so many sandwiches! ... okay no it's fine. meanwhile, he's already got his wand out when he catches himself and glances over before pocketing it again. honestly, he's going to have to get a holster built into his jacket or something.

so! even though he could just entallen or enflyen simon up there, or something, instead he sighs theatrically and hunkers down, lacing his fingers together into a step about halfway up the trunk. ]

Well? Up you get.

Archer of Shinjuku | Fate/Grand Order | OTA

[professorfreischutz]

[ True Name: {James Moriarty} ]

a hopping good time.

Archer really wasn't one to take candy from babies. No matter his own ill repute or dastardly ways, that just was not his thing. However, when the children wander off and he could still see numerous little hidden prizes scattered about town, who was he to resist the leftover adventure?

There were so many other things to do in town, but most of the officials at Ortech had taken the day off so worming his way into their good graces with his genius intellect was out of the question. His personality left something to be desired when he hoped to ingratiate himself rather than assert his superiority; that was unfortunately not the play here. He didn't have the resources.

So. Taking the day. A quiet little venture, one that would give him better insight into the town's nooks and crannies? How could he resist?

Except for the fact that someone had beaten him to one of the eggs, one he'd noticed earlier in the day and only just doubled back to see if it was still there. He cleared his throat, shifting his balance to walk on more with the aid of the cane that he certainly didn't actually need, and called, "Why, hello! What is that you have there? An egg?!"

Oh weird, he is super British.

a sample expedition.

Despite a lack of Master or other plentiful form of mana to help himself grow stronger, Archer wasn't going to sit around and go to waste. Along with trying to become prominent within Ortech, he had other avenues to explore on top of that. Expeditions would give him better insight into the state of the world and hopefully provide clues as to what could be done going forward. It helped that this current manifestation allowed him to handle plenty of combat scenarios on his own, but if it were true that abilities tended to fade the further away one got... well, that was where he would need backup.

Despite being an Archer, it wasn't like he was personally known in life for being any type of marksman. Without the special edge of his unique summoning, a bodyguard would absolutely be necessary.

Regardless, he found himself waiting at the destination point with not only his cane, but his super-excessively armed multipurpose... coffin? It was certainly a sight to behold, and hopefully the contact he had been assigned would use it as a means to track him down and soon. He wasn't in a mood to be incredibly patient.

a sample expedition

[hello_goodbye]

Klaus wouldn't precisely consider himself bodyguard material if asked, and to be honest he can't quite remember why he'd thought signing up for this detail was a good idea in the first place, let alone why anyone in charge would actually agree with him. Sure, he knew enough self-defense and battle tactics to survive both his childhood and early adult life (and it was a toss up most days which of the two was more fraught) but trusting him to keep someone else safe as well?

It's far too much responsibility, in his opinion.

On the other hand, if he ditches now, there's a decent chance whoever he's been sent along to help will have to go it alone, and the possibility of seeing a new ghost around town and knowing it was his fault is enough to keep him moving forward to the prescribed meeting place, even as he pulls out his flask and takes a long pull.

There's still a good twenty feet between him and Archer, but it's more than enough for his eyes to confirm for him that he is indeed looking at some sort of funky coffin by the man. He stops fully in his tracks, uttering a loud, vehement, "Nope, no. I don't think so." and spinning on his heel sharply, skirt and coat flaring out behind him in a wide arc.

A Sample Expedition

[callidus]

Five was perfectly capable of going it alone, hell he preferred the very idea of it, but there had been no solo expeditions available and apparently it seemed as though he was to wait before going out alone until one came up. It was okay though because there was a man without a partner! Perfect for Five's current situation. Just what he wanted.

Despite his... reservations about going on this expedition with someone else, Five shows up at the spot where the older- no other man is waiting. 'Older' is still up for debate. Anyway, Five wandered up to the waiting gentleman, hands shoved into the pickets of his shorts. Still dressed in his school uniform from home, he looked more like he was ready for a field trip than a potentially dangerous expedition out beyond the fence.

But looks could be deceiving. If it came down to it, he could protect himself (and his partner as well) against whatever was out there. He was sure of it. He had a whole host of skills that made that possible. Skills that he was more than confident in.

Stopping next to the other man, Five looked up at him and then over at the coffin, raising both of his eyebrows. "Nice coffin."

( a hopping good time )

[enflame]

A more observant or intuitive person might find the mundanity and cheeriness of the whole Easter spectacle to be disconcerting -- maybe not by itself, but within the context of this sudden awakening and bewilderment. It wouldn't be totally accurate to say Emil is accepting of this sudden strangeness; because something about it is strange, he just doesn't have enough mental faculties yet to put his finger on what exactly it is that's bothering him so much.

The idea is that maybe if he wanders around long enough, something more will come to him. The opposite is true: the more he aimlessly goes about, the more things don't settle well. The presence of children out and playing feels a little calming -- they seem to be going about, having a normal holiday. Things can't be as strange as his mind is telling him it is.

It's obvious this game of egg finding is for children, but a shiny specimen catches Emil's eye. He might have a short stature, but the Fabergé egg he plucks out of the rotten hallow of an old telephone pole is a bit too high for most children. It's an admirable egg, and the thought crosses his mind to maybe keep it. Finders keepers, and all.

Emil is startled, however, to hear someone has observed his sudden finding. Something about it makes him feel a bit embarrassed -- he's obviously too old to be egg hunting, and this voice belonging to someone older might use this excuse to look down upon his own youth.

"Uhm, this?" The urge to stuff the egg back into the hole is rising steadily. "Yes? Not a real one."

Good going, smart stuff.

peter parker | marvel → 616

[webshoots]

i → a sample expedition

[ peter's late.

if you know peter, this isn't unusual: he has every intention of arriving on time but inevitably, he ends up distracted or otherwise waylaid, and suddenly that extra ten minutes he gives himself because he knows he'll probably be late if he doesn't turns into another ten minutes he has to make up.

this time, peter had been distracted by the mushrooms (so conveniently mentioned in that other prompt), and after deciding he'll come back to investigating whatever they are — because they definitely hadn't been a feature of maureen's lawn the last time he'd been past (that dubious honour went to the impressive collection of gnomes the mushrooms have sprouted up between) — he glances at his watch, and—

08:07AM it says, and there's a groan that turns into a soft mumble of half an inaudible word.

(time to pick up the pace, parker.)

as he rounds the corner to approach the fence, he can see only one person in the (not-really-too-far-away) distance that he assumes is his partner for the expedition; he quickens his pace again a little bit more, and when he approaches, there's a flash of apologeticness punctuated by an inhalation of breath. he holds a hand up in a vague gesture that loosely resembles surrender, and: ] —I'm so sorry I'm late.

ii → network

If anyone's lost their impressively foldable Bungy Pump Walkathon stick, you'll be pleased to know it's in good hands.

iii → wildcard

( ooc: want to do An Other Thing? hmu! i'm easy but if you're not sure, just send me a pm here or pp at ruffians. )

ii.

[00nothing]

A what now?

i.

[snow_ghost]

[The woman waiting for him by the fence doesn't seem all that impressed with his apology. Fortunately, Ikrie doesn't particularly think its her job to scold him, either.]

...it's fine. You're here now.

[She looks him over while he's standing there panting, trying to sort out if she's going to have to babysit him for twelve hours, or if he'll actually be useful out beyond the fence.]

You're ready now though, right? Do you have a weapon?

emil västerström | stand still stay silent

[enflame]

( The concept of Easter isn't something futuristic, apocalyptic Sweden has kept up with. Listen -- maybe they pick a few days to try and scrounge up the money to get a nice ham or something, but the religious and Westernized cultural views of this holiday have been lost with time. Kind of too busy working on surviving and zapping trolls.

This is a roundabout way of saying Emil's befuddled by Easter, and not because it's happening out of season for some reason. After waking up from the hospital, collecting his things in a daze, everything seems to be befuddling. There are various hints this isn't his clan. There's an accent to his speech that isn't present with the hospital staff. There's no surety that where he is is home -- if it was, wouldn't he remember it as such? Wouldn't he have an idea of where he lived, went to school, hung out?

Instead, it's nothing but absence. The few memories he does have give him very little clues about where home might be. )

A HOPPING GOOD TIME;

( His confusion is his to own, however, because the world is still spinning. It's evident in how he's going down the street, minding his own business, when suddenly the sleeve of his jacket is grabbed by a young boy. After a short explanation, Emil's been tasked with trying to grab a Fabergé that's been placed ridiculously high for a game primarily played by children. It's perched in a real bird's nest, glittering so it can easily be seen.

Well. He has nothing else to do. It's relieving to find out he can climb the tree, with a bit of huffing and puffing, but it's a somewhat quick trip to get to the lower branch where the egg is hiding.

One wrong move, however, and everything happens in a flash. There's a yelp from below, hurried footsteps and Emil's staring dazed at the sky. Falling out of a tree seems par for the course today, somehow. The wind is taken out of him, so getting up...isn't really on the agenda right now. )

LET'S SEE WHAT'S IN SPORE;

( Of course Emil noticed those Fabergé eggs sitting around. Outside of his failed tree-climbing incident, there are a few hidden eggs he's noticed here and there. Most of them he's taken no time to pick up or attempt to collect.

This egg, however, is very different. Not even necessarily egg shaped, even. While some mushrooms are sitting in clusters, Emil's introduction is this lone fungi, youthful and not yet sprouting friends. He could recognize a normal mushroom if he saw it, but this species is certainly enticing.

After plucking it, the reality is discovered -- it's some sort of ground fruit? He doesn't dare eat it, but it certainly does smell good. Emil isn't so out of touch that he'd eat it...immediately.

When he woke up, one of the few things Emil remembered was a large firebird: the heat of it, the size, the smell of how it singed the air itself, it seemed like. It's such a fantastical memory, it's certainly just a very vivid dream. After a half hour of walking, though, a cold sweat sets in -- and then it heats up expectantly. He can't see it, and he knows he'd have to see it, but it's somewhere. That bird is near, he can feel it all over his body. It's going to come after him, and soon.

He breaks out into a run, only stopped once he slams into another person, breathing heavy and obviously panicked. )

Can you feel it? ( He grabs you, whether by the shoulders or your clothes. ) We have to get out! It's coming!

-- -- -- -- --

ON THE NETWORK;

( Smartphones? Another thing long forgotten where Emil comes from. Maybe you can find one and sell it as an antique, but the form and function of this device is completely lost on him.

He's asked someone to show him the basic function of it. Some of it sounds pretty neat, but otherwise he's a little unimpressed. After the network is shown to him, the idea of using it is...maybe something to master? In the meantime, he's truly a fish out of water with it. )

What

( Yeah, that's all he sent out. )

a hopping good time!

[aurulentus]

[ simon's had some luck with the hunt. one of the shinier eggs is tucked under his arm and he's holding a tiny kaleidoscope on a chain up to his eye when he catches the repeated pattern of a guy falling out of a tree. which, in a spinning collection of reflections, could be mistaken for a guy falling up into a tree, but that seems less likely.

when that becomes apparent, simon, ever the compassionate protagonist, races over to emil, letting his loot fall in favor of kneeling down and checking to see if emil's been knocked straight out. he's awake, thankfully, but the shocked and still thing isn't totally reassuring. ]

Are you alright? [ he asks, putting a hand on emil's shoulder. any kind of response he'll take as a good sign. ] That looked like it fucking hurt.