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.
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bumfuckidaho2019-03-21 09:59 pm
TEST DRIVE MEME
simon snow | carry on | ota
on the network
( un: snow )
a hopping good time
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. ]
sorry for the delay!!
Dunno really. [ he blinks, considering. his experience with eggs hunts is minimal, and they've never been the type to flaunt anything fancier than plastic and a piece of chocolate inside, maybe a coin or two if you were lucky. these eggs are more like bejeweled treasure chests, so his mind is racing with larger possibilities. ]
But that's probably the point, right? Not knowing. At least until you get your hands on it.
[ he's going to knit his hands into a makeshift step and bend a little so klaus can get a good foothold. ] Come on, then.
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I hope it's an end to this unending torment. [ he says brightly, before clapping his hands together and using Simon's proffered foothold to sort of bounce himself up high enough to wrap his arms around a large branch.
despite his visible inebriation it takes him very little effort or time to pull himself fully into the bows of the tree and toss the egg back down to simon. and then apparently decides to just stay up there. for some reason. ]
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he catches the egg with ease and then holds it up to his ear, giving it a (kind of) gentle shake and listening to the rattle inside. he glances back up at klaus, gathers he doesn't have any intention of getting back down immediately, and sets to work on popping open the gaudy thing in his hands. it seems to have a couple clips to keep it together. ]
I kind of don't think that's what unending means. [ he says with a frown, not that he's claiming any sort of expertise in the field. ] What's so tormenting about Easter anyway?
[ ... besides the elusive mysteries of eggs. simon's just gonna assume that's what he's talking about here. ]
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[ apparently having already grown bored of the tree, klaus drops straight down without warning and lands in a crouch in front of simon. he makes a wide sweep with one hand to snatch up the vodka bottle and uses the other one to push himself back up on his feet, makes a cheering gesture with it in simon's direction and drains the last of the bottle in one long pull. ]
No, no, I'm not talking about Easter here. I mean suburbia, obviously. Or life in general, pick your favorite if you like, I'm not picky.
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You're welcome?
on the upside, klaus has managed not to break both of his ankles, and simon celebrates with a curious, slightly incredulous smile when klaus toasts at him.
as for suburbia and life in general... hmm. this whole easter thing was his convenient excuse not to worry about any of it, but there is a certain unrest that doesn't stop buzzing under his skin no matter how long he tries to ignore it. painted eggs and tiny feathery chicks can only go so far. ]
It's all kind of boring, yeah? Like, way too normal. [ after waking up from a mysterious accident i can't remember his brain supplies, but there's something else to it, too, something brushing up against the underside of that thought. ]
on the network: 02
you mean it doesnt just disappear when youre done with it?
sorry for the wait!!
not that i can tell.
[ he definitely just tried... letting it go and watching it drop onto the ground. ]
is there like a special gesture? or a magic word?
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maybe try my friends are my power?
[ it's worked for him before, anyway. ]
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is that a thing??
i thought you were going to say hocus pocus or alakazam or whatever
[ admittedly, my friends are my power is kind of sweet. ]
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[ which definitely helps your case on legitimacy, simon. ]
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why not??
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who said anything about a journal???
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that kind of came out of nowhere, didn't it?
what journal?
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i love this so much
someone wrote about you?
re-coded is wild
iT IS
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OH RIGHT that egg one
[ 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.
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[ says he, knowing full well that there are better ways for him to persuade baz to do things. wink wonk. anyway, if it is edible, he can probably spare a crumb. if baz asks nicely.
whatever they're about to find, simon has already wrangled baz into becoming a very handsome stepladder and accepts the boost before anyone can change their mind, planting a hand briefly on baz's shoulder as he steadies himself. ] Don't drop me. [ this before he presses off and manages a little leap, grabbing hold of one of the larger branches and hauling himself up with a triumphant grunt. in a moment, he's sat himself down, feet dangling, posh pastel egg in his lap. he peers down at baz thoughtfully, judging the distance. ]
Do you want up here? [ he's smiling as he leans to one side, stretching out a hand in the hope that baz can reach it. ] I get the feeling you've probably never climbed a tree in your life.