worldsmeme | West World - Test Drive Meme #1

West World - Test Drive Meme #1

★ Test Drive Meme #1 ★

Reserves are OPEN, and Apps open on February 18th!
Game opens March 1st!

Your body is gently rocked awake. No, not to the dulcet tones of an Aerosmith ballad, but the rumble of wheels, the creak of wood, the thunder of dozens of horses beating the ground with their hooves. Perhaps you're asleep in the saddle, perhaps awkwardly jammed between strangers in the back of a canvas covered wagon. It's a peaceful prairie afternoon, the sun is shining and the birds are singing, a herd of bison are baying down by the river, but this is the wild frontier, and the tranquility won't last forever.

But first, there's you. What do you remember? Perhaps it's a fabricated history on the East Coast: a huge family of which you are the youngest; a toppled business empire; a brush with the law. Whatever it is, it's why you've hit the trail, a past that you can't return to, your hopes staked on a future in the town of Horseshoe.

Perhaps. Or perhaps those hazy memories are quickly slipping away. Perhaps you know exactly who you are, and you have no idea - none at all - how you got here in the first place. One second you were fighting a space battle in a galaxy far, far away, and now you're eating dust, blinded by the hot summer sun, your ass being beaten sore by the road beneath your feet.

The question is: now you're here, what will you do? The road is hard ahead, but it's dangerous to go it alone.

★ It's Only Horse Play

The thing about horses - and mules, for that matter - is that they're not cars. They have minds of their own, and you can't fix them by swearing at them until they start, although I guess you could try. They have limited energy, so they might stop dead in the middle of the road, holding up traffic. They might throw a shoe--no, it's nothing like changing a tire. Irritated by flies or the whip, or surprised by a snake in the road, they might bolt at random. If the worst should happen, that wicked cool stallion you're riding might just have his eyes on a mare in harness. Be careful he doesn't break his leg trying to climb over the wagon's shaft.

All in all, four feet and a mean set of teeth make for a fun ride. These horses, too, have come an awful long way, and they're getting as miserable, tired and grouchy as their owners. Harnesses are one size doesn't fit all, wagons are heavily loaded, and the horses are bruised and sore, their legs and feet aching from the slog, their necks arched painfully forward to take the strain. To spare your horse, its good to get out of the saddle now and again, but on the trail, that's not always possible. Don't be surprised if, hitching up, a horse resists the harness--and be careful! Remember, that animal is your lifeline. Without it, you and all your worldly goods are stranded out here.

★ Old Man River

A river crossing. Awesome. You remember this part in Oregon Trail, right? All you have to do is cross the river. But it's not that simple. One wagon might cross easily, but another, more heavily laden, might sink too deep a few feet in. A weaker, more exhausted horse may struggle, or lose its footing in the swell of the current, or worse, one of the wagon's wheels may break halfway across. A horse might even panic, as the water wraps around his feet, jump sidewards and take the wagon with it.

Perhaps you make it, but if not you're going to need help. Brute strength or supernatural powers might come in handy helping you to wrestle across the haphazard ford. Maybe that help is friendly, and maybe it comes with a price.

Rivers are dangerous. One missed step, one misjudgement, and it's the end of the road. Whatever you do, be careful. Make a plan. But whether you like it or not, you have to cross. The road to Horseshoe is on the other side, and you're so close now you can taste it.

★ It Was A Dark And Stormy Night

It was a dark and stormy night, and the travellers had pulled their wagons into a circle. Firelight glowed from the campfires that struggled despite the makeshift windbreaks, damp wood keeping their glow muted. You're close, one more day's drive away from the town, the scout says. One last night of misery. One night in gloomy, damp wagons, wearing wet clothes. One more night of dried meat scraps and corn meal. If you've remembered who you are already then it's all okay for you, but for some of the group this is it, the end of their long road, their turmoil; their hopes and dreams on the line. There's an air of celebration despite the weather.

If someone still has some bourbon to hand, then now is the night to pass it around. Stories will be told, songs will be sung. The constant sound of a fiddle or a banjo cuts through the night, keeping all but the heaviest sleepers awake. Tired horses doze standing up around the edge of the circle, one hind foot cocked as though to catch them if they fall. Now is your last chance to really get to know your fellow man, in the cameraderie of the trail, before the town swallows you up. Tell your stories, struggle with reality, teach someone the words to Yellow Submarine. Sleep when you're dead.

★ Wildcard

You're on the trail, so why not let your mind wander where it pleases as well? Perhaps your character is riding out to scout the trail ahead. Maybe they're law enforcement or ex-army? Maybe the wheel comes off your wagon, or your horse drops dead and you have to beg for a stranger's help. Maybe you're Superman, and you want to frighten the natives by flying off ahead, or you're a faith healer, who can revive a broken down horse with a touch. Start a gunfight, or go shooting rabbits, or soothe a stranger's teething infant with an alien lullaby. It's your adventure, so make it up as you go along.

(p.s. if your character absolutely must fly off ahead to get the lay of the land, they won't be able to find the town. That would spoil the fun of getting there, wouldn't it?)

★ Mods notes: A quick reminder that characters can have either no memory loss, OR a partial memory loss which allows them to recollect their past at a player's chosen speed. Characters are also allowed to have NPC family members (who may or may not be on the wagon train with them), for instance an NPC wife or kids who might give them a hard time about not remembering who they are. NPC family members are not mandatory, we just thought they were a fun thing that you could play with if you wanted! We also accept OCs and game-based OCs,as well as canon characters! If you have any questions about gameplay, please check out the FAQ! ★

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Ummm, his horse is the biggest puppy and he'll treat it as so. The horse is still disgruntled, but not enough to knock off his stupid top hat. There's that.]

You know I do. [He peeked around the horse's head, arm still slung around its neck. He doesn't expect this to be nice, but he still has that stupidly optimistic grin of his.] Commend them on how brave they are? Share the cargo? Do all the work for them?

[Well this horse is (temprorarily) Ned's, so stop spoiling it. Ned's more likely to knock his hat off at this rate.

He chuckles again, straightening up from leaning against the horse and motioning for Jacob to stop hugging it and come over here.]

Come on, get her back on the trail and I'll tell you all about it. [Do him favors, obviously.] You'll like it, I swear—I even gave it a title.

[He gestures with both hands, like he's indicating a theatre advertisement in big, shiny letters.] The Amazing Jacob Frye! [And pinched between his thumb and forefingers, a subtitle:] Hitchhiker. Loiterer. Public enemy number... two, maybe three?

[But come on, come sit in his wagon with him.]

Number two Maybe three? [Jacob tried to sound more offended than he was. He really did. But the grin on his face is wide as can be now, hearing The Amazing Jacob Frye. He is amazing, thank you very much.] I'll have to change that! Only I can be number one.

[Ned's flattery is enough to get him serious, though. He steps back from the horse, making a show of waving his hand before delving into his coat pockets. The horse was too tired for this.] Now, what was on my wagon, you ask? Well, I'll tell you! I'd say this old girl deserves a nice, juicy... [apple. They could be eating that, on this maddeningly hot trail, but it's going straight to the suddenly eager horse. Sorry Ned.] That should get her going again.

[Pat, pat. Meet him on the wagon, scrub, he's smugly sauntering his way over to climb on first.]

You do that, Frye. [He didn't ask anything about Jacob's wagon. He didn't ask a thing. At least he has a smirk to spare for Jacob's carrying on about being a menace, before he follows after him to climb up onto the wagon.

Or. To look at it. He's tiny, he needs a lot of room and absolutely no commentary from public enemy two-or-three while he hauls himself up onto the wagon. Christ above.]

[Jacob might pause and just watch him for a few seconds, but he doesn't say anything at all. He will, however, lean over and grab his arm to help haul him up. Brawn over brain can be useful, sometimes.]

Seems quite the effort for someone like you to be putting in. Miss the Rooks already? [It's teasing, but also implying Ned is important. Give and take. Also take these reigns, Ned, he's a horrible driver.] I know I do.

[Ned makes a noise of protest the moment Jacob grabs his arm, a displeased grunt that could very well be intended to mean "I don't need a big chunk of all muscle and no brain yanking me around," but could also just be embarrassment. Christ.

But alright, he's in the wagon and taking the reins. The horse is fed, so now they'll be able to lumber along at a cruising speed of barely a couple miles per hour. Because it's miles now, welcome to America, Jacob Frye.]

Do I miss having your boys and girls around to deal with the horses for me? You could say that. Personally, I'm more concerned about what's going to happen to my business while I'm away.

[Away, he says, like this is an unexpected vacation and not very bizarre.] I've got a real nice office, you know. Shame to let it go to the dogs.

[Ned... They're in a strange American city with no recollection of how they got there. Ned.

Ned was supposed to get how weird that is, because Jacob doesn't either. Then again, it wouldn't be the first time he's been knocked unconscious and woken up somewhere. This is fine.] You're too respectable for your boys to let it. Besides, I would have thought you miss the train more. [He tilts his hat forward and kicks his feet up, since apparently he thinks his work is done here.]

Heard they got one here, though. A train. Why don't you take me around your great country in it, Wynert?

[Listen. Listen, yes, this is very weird, but he's a businessman and he has a business to go home too after this very weird thing. Thanks for the compliment, though - he is sooo respectable, that's true. Look at his suit.

He hums, shrugging like he wasn't going to say anything about missing that very fine train, but holy shit he misses that very fine train.]

There's a good chance their train isn't as nice as yours. [It's so nice. And wait—] How much time do you think we have to spare for tours and souvenirs?

[Double wait—] I know I've mentioned New York— Frye, do you know where New York is?

[Jacob opened his mouth to answer confidently, but blanched at his second question. He didn't have time to look at world maps, he was an assassin! Punching things! Killing people! What's the point of knowing other places if you aren't murdering someone there?

Uh.] It's... up... north... ish. In the... new area. With... New... Hampshire. New. [He's so dumb... he's so dumb.]

[Okay... this might be fair, if Jacob weren't supposedly a Real Assassin, or whatever. Ned knows nothing about that, but he has enough ammo for judgment as someone who moved to London and now owns half of London's seedy underworld. So.

Pick up a damn map, Jacob. He only knows the New (English city) named states, doesn't he?]

Not bad. Next question: where do you think we are right now? I'll give you a hint—it's not New York.

[Okay, this will take some careful deliberation over the states he remembers. Give him a minute.

A minute. Careful deliberation.]

... New Hampshire.

[get the fuck out of this wagon

Or: hopefully the horse doesn't need Ned paying attention for the next thirty seconds while he turns away to laugh at Jacob's marvelous display of geographical knowledge. Oh... buddy...]

I'm gonna find you a map, Frye, and I'll let you figure it out on your own. Here. [Hold the reins, he is going to climb into the back of this wagon and look for a map RIGHT NOW.] Keep us out of any passing rivers.

[Jacob can't help but feel like he's missing something here. He blinks, but it's not enough for him not to laugh along with him. Ned is cute, even when he's making fun of him.]

Right, right, you do that. I'll put us in one. [He'll gladly take the reins, this horse is being nice to him.]

[Frye he swears to God if this wagon tips into a river you are pulling it out by yourself.

Anyway, there are Various Goods back here... not very impressive, but there has to be a map somewhere, considering what they're doing. Maybe someone should have gotten this out sooner, but at least he's thought to do it now—it'll be a few minutes before he comes back with a map to unfold and spread across his lap.

Jacob is still responsible for not driving them into rivers, but here, look at this map at the same time. Ned will point out locations with both hands while he speaks,] New York is over here, and we are somewhere in... this area. Stop me if I'm going too fast.

[Look at that space. America is huge.]

[Jacob, thankfully, has not put them in any rivers. He's actually doing quite well without any Blighters trying to run him off the road, only taking his eyes off it when Ned returns. With the map.

The map that was a lot bigger than he expected.] Wh-- What? You're going too fast. [He takes a hand off the reins-- a hand, don't worry-- and points back at New York.] That's tiny! And why is it there twice?

[Jacob Frye, master Assassin....... Ned gives him a Look, brushing his hand away to tap on both places it says "New York," because apparently Jacob can't read.]

New York City, Frye. How is this news?

[Do you listen when he speaks???]

Well, I'm sorry, but we don't have London City, London. That's stupid. [He's stupid.

He doesn't listen when he speaks, either.] Where are we, again?

Here— [He sort of- whaps the area with the back of his hand, giving Jacob an even more critical look because what the hell.]

What do you think "City of London" is supposed to be? Do you know anything about your own territory? [fucking give him the City of London if you don't want to take care of it, god.]

... No, because that's the City of London, England... Or the... the City of London, London, England.

Wait.

[This argument is not going in his favor.]

That's stupid.

[See? Ned folds the map back up and uses it to reach over and push Jacob's stupid hat down over his eyes. Give him the reins back.]

Point being, if we were in New York, you'd see more than half a dozen people every twenty miles.

[This might be an exaggeration of just how desolate the expansive west is, but god, it's the boonies regardless.]

[Jacob gasps as if he were mortified by Ned touching his hat, but he just retaliates by tipping Ned's off him and shoving the reins in his hands.]

Maybe I want to see half a dozen people if it means I'll escape you being rude.

[Ned tries to lean with his hat to keep it on, but it flops uselessly onto the seat beside him anyway. At least they're moving at approximately no speed at all, because if it fell out of the wagon he'd be obligated to stop and go get it.

He'll leave it on the seat for now, scoffing at Jacob and looking at the horse like driving this wagon is way more interesting.]

You can always jump off. What're the odds you'll find someone else who doesn't know where New York is, do you think?

Not everyone is a crime lord from New York City, New York. [Now he's just going to say it like that every time. Just to be annoying.] Surely there's someone just as lost as I am.

[He doesn't want to be with them, though. Ned doesn't have to say it'd be a diaster for him to know it. Instead he's just going to fold his hat into his coat and place Ned's on his head.]

How do I look?

Businessman. [Don't just announce that he's a crime lord!! Not that he doesn't make it fairly obvious on his own, but don't advertise it...

And put his hat down—] Like a million bucks. Give it back.

[He holds his hand out expectantly. Come on.]

I'll give it back for a million bucks, Mr. Businessman. [Sorry, Ned. He's leaning away with the hat held firmly on his head.]

Maybe if someone didn't tease me about your states...

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