West World - Test Drive Meme #1

[worldtech]

★ 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! ★

Comments

Sam Winchester | Supernatural

[guzzles]

1. Rise and Shine

[ If Sam had one thing going for him, it was that he was used to waking up in strange places, different decades, even different centuries. His immediate instinct was to get a good feeling for his new surroundings, such as they were. You can imagine how thrilled he was to be surrounded by the smell of horses and leather, wobbling uncertainly to his feet and climbing over the sleeping strangers in the wagon around him.

All was going well. Just fine, in fact, until something went wrong with the horses pulling the wagon. It lurched to one side, just as he was ducking down to climb out the back of the canvas wagon, and next thing Sam knew he was sprawled on the trail in front of the approaching wagon train, his knee buried in something warm and wet and his hands bruised from the impact.

Classy, Sam. Right into the horse shit.

Unfortunately, the next wagon didn't exactly stop, and Sam had seconds to roll out of the way, hooves flashing at his temple, his life flashing in front of his eyes. Somewhere out there, something - probably an angel, knowing his luck - was having a nice long chuckle at his bad luck.

And then something wet licked his ear, his nose, his face, and Sam shoved his hands up, surprised to find them buried in long, familiar, mottled blue fur. ]

Riot? What are you doing here, boy?

[ Help a guy up? ]


2. Horse Play

[ Horses were all well and good from a distance. Close up, on the other hand, they were something of a mystery, an object of contention. Sam had looked at the guy in period dress like he was crazy when he'd told him that his horse needed to be watered, but the stranger had thrust the reins into his hand and wandered off, shaking his head at him, and Sam had been left trying to work out what to do next.

The wagon train was moving on - as fast as a wagon train could ever move - and Sam stood with the reins in one hand, staring at the horse - which stared right back at him - gesturing toward the water, which the horse was not drinking. Finally, it flicked its ears at him and lowered its head to the surface of the water, snorted at it, and then went right back to pretending it didn't exist.

Riot, as though to attempt to prove that the water was just fine, was chest deep in it, drinking his fill. He looked up at Sam as he bickered with the horse. ]

Oh, come on. Is it because I thought you were a boy horse? I'm still sorry about that, really I am. But who knows how far it is until we reach water. It's like gas, you've got to fill up when you've got the chance.


3. Old Man River

[ When the wheel came off the wagon right in the middle of the river, it was all hands on deck. Sure, the water wasn't very deep, but the horses started to panic as soon as they realized that they were stuck, stranded in the middle of the current.

Sam handed the reins of his horse to a child standing next to one of the wagons waiting on the bank, then, grimacing as water filled his boots, he strode out into the river. The wet boots were going to suck later, but if anyone could help get the wagon moving on to the next bank, it was probably him. There was already someone else lifting the corner, and Sam smiled softly as he stepped up beside them. ]

Hey. Need a hand?


4. It was a dark and stormy night

[ Sam wasn't thrilled that they'd almost made it to town. He remembered what that meant: straw beds, streets full of horse crap, and booze that made drinking paint stripper look like fun. But the trail wasn't much better. Sam was still wet from wading into the river, which made him unwelcome in the wagon he'd crawled out of. His ass was sore from sitting in the saddle: who rode horses for fun? And he was sitting as close to the fire as he could get just to dry off.

Riot sat beside him, contently eating the odd scrap of salted meat that Sam passed from his nearly uneatable bacon roll. Fortunately there was coffee as well, brewing in a big pot over the fire, and Sam had inherited the use of the ladle, so he could fill tin cups and hand them to strangers tempted in by the smell.

He blinked upward as a shadow moved over him, and offered a cup automatically. ]

Coffee?


Wildcard

Or something else!

4.

[superposition]

You really need to ask?

[The man who accepts the coffee is clean-shaven and well-dressed, though it might seem a little odd that every piece of his suit is green, even the long overcoat. Not green are the stylish top hat and pince-nez glasses (that he doesn't actually need). But even he hasn't escaped the wear and tear of the trail.

It may be worth noting that he is still fully immersed in his fabricated backstory. But coffee, that transcends time and space. He drinks a good third of it in one go.]

Mm. Thank you, friend. [Sigh.] Almost there. ... Hard to believe, isn't it? Just think, less than a day and we'll be back to sleeping under proper roofs again. I won't miss waking up in an inch of water every few days, that's for damned sure.

[guzzles]

[ There's plenty where that came from. Maybe it's just a sign of how much the pioneers love their coffee, or maybe it's just that with light at the end of the tunnel it's less necessary to scrimp on the grounds, but the coffee actually isn't that bad, or anywhere near as watered down as it had been even a few days before. Sam can appreciate it, anyway, but then he'd grown up getting his coffee out of a motel vending machine; any kind of coffee flavored water was better than that.

He looked the guy over, then moved a little to one side to make room, disturbing Riot, who was trying hard to ignore the laughing and dancing so he could get some sleep. There were blankets rolled up on the ground beside the fire, which made it a little more comfortable to sit down there than in the dirt, and the stranger looked like he was taking care not to get his suit scuffed. It was a nice suit, even for the over the top color. Way nicer than anything Sam had ever owned, anyway.

He chose to keep his feelings about hay mattresses and horsehair pillows to himself. ]

Yeah. I've honestly never been so wet in my life. I think it's gone down to the bone.

I'm not going to miss the saddle sores much, either. You?

[superposition]

[Well gee, that looks like an invitation to have a seat. He obliges.]

Oh, don't get me started. There's no end to the little indignities one could moan about, if he'd a mind to. [Genially, he offers his right hand, albeit without removing his glove.] Folks call me Professor Q. Yourself?

[guzzles]

[ He's in the middle of pouring more coffee for himself with the ladle, as Qubit settles down beside him. It's more to keep himself busy, he probably shouldn't be drinking it, not if he expects to get any sleep tonight. Hell, he's practically vibrating in his own skull as it is. ]

Sam.

[ Setting the ladle back in the pot, he takes the hand instead, and gives it a firm shake. ]

Professor? What do you teach?

[superposition]

Well, now, a little of everything, I suppose. [He shrugs.] My specialty is in physics, but I doubt the children are going to understand too much of that. Honestly, I'll be happy if anyone's taught them to read.

[Yup, someone decided to make this guy a rural schoolmaster. Be very afraid.]

[guzzles]

[ The world is not ready.

Sam couldn't help but chuckle at that, ducking his chin toward his chest as he reached out to pick up the tin cup again. He wrapped his hands round it to warm them. ]

Well, I guess almost anything would be an improvement on actual illiteracy, right? It's a hell of a thing coming out here to teach though, right?

[ Sam bit his lip, and thought about that for a moment, then raised an eyebrow over at him. ]

--I mean, unless you're the adventurous type?

[superposition]

[A sly smile.] You could say that. [I mean, it's... not the primary reason he's out there. But it's not technically false.]

Anyway, children are our future, as the saying goes. Somebody's got to civilize the lawless frontier. [Takes a drink of coffee.]

Enough about me, though. What brings you out to Horseshoe, Sam?

[guzzles]

I uh...

[ Oh yeah. Proving he's the most literate, and capable of talking in complete sentences. What brings him out here? "Angels" probably isn't the right answer, no matter how convinced he is of the fact that it is the right answer. ]

Oh, you know. Any excuse to get away from family.

[ He hadn't even thought of what he'd do once he got to town. If all the people on this wagon train had a trade, it wasn't good cover not to have anything he could lean back on. ]

I guess I'm just hoping to make it a little less lawless.

[ Unless it's haunted, in which case he might have to make a sudden career change. ]

[superposition]

[The Professor raises an eyebrow at that first bit. Sure, he gets the sentiment, but he wouldn't consider that a reason to move across the country... Then again, he doesn't know Sam's family, soooo ultimately no judgment.]

Ah. You're looking to work with the sheriff? Assuming there is one, that is.

2

[amos_moses]

He's right, you know. You might not be thirsty now, but you should probably have a drink.

[Amos ambled up beside them, speaking in his snappy New Orleans accent. His own horse, a leggy sorrel mare, followed him with her reins looped over her neck. Amos, being able to talk to animals telepathically, had convinced her he was a good herd-mate to have, and she wasn't very keen on running away. She waded out into the river, with a look askance at the dog, and began to paw, splashing water everywhere in great gouts and wetting her chest and belly.]

[Amos laughed and moved up beside Sam's buckskin.] So go on, have a drink, girl.

[Only then did he look at Sam.] Hi! Need a little help? I'm good with animals.

[guzzles]

[ Sam had to admit, he was damned impressed by the trick with the horse. Apparently he had the whole thing down pat, which was a lot more than Sam could stay. Honestly the most he'd learned how to do so far was stay in the saddle and hold on. Anything more than that would probably take time.

He smiled apologetically, and patted his own horse across her neck. She sniffed at the water again mistrustfully, and Sam shook his head. ]

You're welcome to give it a try. I mean...you look like you've got the horse whisperer thing working for you.

[ He wished he was that good with animals. Dogs were no problem, of course, but... Well, he was beginning to wonder. Animals always seemed to be more attracted to Dean as a rule. Although there was the occasional...freak. ]

[amos_moses]

Well. Sorta?

More like all-animal-whisperer.

[Amos patted the mare on the neck, and attempted to convey to her the waterless stretch they would be traversing. She gave him a skeptical look out of one eye, ears tilted slightly back, then lowered her head and took a sip. She raised her head and snorted, spraying Amos in the face. He flinched back, then laughed, wiping his face.]

She says she's not really thirsty an' she doesn't look like she's sweated much. So she'll probably be alright.

[Amos's mare waded back out of the water and shook all over mightily, bit jangling and saddle rattling and stirrups clapping. Amos got sprayed a second time and flung his hands in the air with a laugh.]

Well I guess now I'm watered too, huh?

[guzzles]

[ Well that was rude. Sam gave the mare an admonishing look, not that she particularly cared. This whole leading a horse to water thing was a pain in the ass. When a car needed a drink you just filled it, none of this asking it politely business. Although if petrol stations were watering holes, the Impala would never have made it anywhere near as far, considering her gas guzzling ways.

Sam didn't exactly miss out on the second spray. He raised his hand up in front of his face to keep it out of his eyes, but it wasn't much help. ]

Yeah. I'd been thinking about having a shower. Now I guess I don't have to bother.

[ He pushed his hand back through his hair, then pulled back on the reins, leading the mare back away from the water. It was a terrible joke. When it wasn't swelteringly hot, Sam was soaked to the bone instead, and the heat was always worse once rainwater had gotten in everywhere. Who'd get wet on purpose, seriously?

Still, he eyed Amos cautiously. ]

You really talked to her, didn't you? The horse?

[amos_moses]

[Amos wondered if the caution was going to end with burn the witch at the stake or lock up the crazy man. He'd seen it go both ways. He fell into step beside Sam anyway, his hands in his pockets and his horse following along behind him like a friendly dog, her head low and her ears relaxed. Amos smiled at Sam, easy and relaxed.]

Yeah. I talk to animals.

Where I'm from, sometimes people just have a little extra talent. That's mine.

[guzzles]

[ Sam was...well, he was the more flexible one of the brothers, when it came to people having special skills, on account of he'd picked up one or two of his own, years ago. Prophetic dreams, telekinesis--sure, they'd turned out to be powers given to him by a demon feeding him blood in his crib, but, you know. Details.

Even if they would be very burn the witch people themselves, under other circumstances, Sam had learned to find out more details before he switches to Kill It With Fire. He's still looking at this with a hunter's eyes, though. ]

Sure, I get it. They have a word for that, don't they? [ He pauses, thinking back on his research. ] Zoolinguism?

[ Which Sam just says like it's a normal part of everyday conversation for him. No "Oh that's so cool" reactions or anything. ]

[amos_moses]

[Amos laughs, startled by hearing the actual term. He's rarely among any setting so formal. He grins at Sam, all cheerful and impressed. A smart man, then. Maybe that stare was more acdemic interest than anything else? Hopefully.]

Yup, that's the technical term! Learned that way later, though. Funny how that goes, ain't it? You do something all your life an' then someone whips out this fancy word and you're just 'neat what's that mean' and they're like 'that's what you do.'

Lemme tell ya, I felt real dumb.

Friend of mine with telepathy said she did that too, so I shouldn't feel too stupid.

[guzzles]

[ Sam hadn't thought about it like that before. He'd had to tell people what they were a few times - and had a hard time convincing them, now and again - but it just hadn't occurred to him that it might be a surprise.

He tried to remember what it was like to finally hear the explanation of what he was. Or rather, what he had been. Not that it helped much. The context was different, here. ]

Sure, I hear you. Still, it must be pretty useful around here. All these animals. I wish I could talk to them. At least apologize for not being very good at it, you know?

[amos_moses]

Ah, most don't mind. At least those who've been around people. They don't expect to be understood real well.

[Which was sad in a way, but understandable too. Communication across species was hard for anyone.]

It's not as useful as you think, though. Talking doesn't always mean convincing.

[Amos had never been able to convince a predator he was not a potentially tasty snack. He could easily get a request across to an animal, and with much more clarity than most animal trainers, but animals had wills of their own and didn't always feel like doing what the puny human wanted.]

4

[runningapp]

[Willa hadn't been heading to the fire for the coffee, just the heat. But the coffee certainly made her move a little faster, although she was walking stiffly. It had been literal years since she'd been on a horse. Uncle Shad wasn't really the horse-n-buggy type.]

Oh my God, yes. [She took the tin cup from him and smelled it.] No cream, no sugar. No Starbucks. But caffeine. [She took a drink - well, more of a swig, really - and grimaced.] How did old-timey people drink this?

[guzzles]

[ Sam couldn't help but laugh at that, not just because the coffee truly wasn't that great, but also in utter relief that - for once - he didn't have to pretend to be an old-timey person himself. Starbucks--oh, how he missed Starbucks. ]

It uh...takes some getting used to, like red eye. But I'm pretty sure that you don't drink anything around here because it's nice. Have you tried the whisky?

[ He crinkled his nose. Even Dean had had a hard time drinking it, and his brother could handle even the worst kinds of tequila. ]

Which is to say maybe don't. If you want to live.

[runningapp]

Can't say I have. I don't... really drink.

[Sure, she'd worked at a bar, but never behind it. She'd had plenty of times when she could have, when Leo left her alone. But even then, all she'd been concerned with was the money.

The thought of Leo made her sad, and it showed for a moment. Leo, Walter, Izzy... But she pushed all of that aside.]

Did old-timey people do anything for fun?

[She really hadn't been pretending to be one of them, even though she knew she should be. She was still a little too rattled, having fallen asleep on the bus and woken up in a saddle.]

I'm Willa, by the way. [Not that he'd asked, but he was cute. For a geriatric gaje, anyway.]

{{ooc: gaje is an outsider. since she didn't say it outloud, I thought I'd let you know}}

[guzzles]

[ Sam laughed, though it was cautious. He'd been pretty sure for a second there that he might have upset her, but the sad expression on her face vanished just as quickly. He'd felt much the same way the last time he was here, and if she'd woken up like he had, then feeling a bit out of sorts was probably reasonable. Sam had had experience of this kind of crazyness in his life; he didn't really tend to wish it on anyone else.]

Sam. [ The briefest tilt of his head, as though to say 'how do you do', before he moved on with the reply to her question. ] Well let's see. Other than the drinking, there's the gambling, which tends to lead to shooting each other. The prostitutes, which tends to lead to shooting each other. And don't forget shooting each other, which again, tends to lead to more people shooting each other.

Actually come to think of it, I haven't seen a single person get shot since I woke up.

[ That had to be a small miracle, right? ]

[runningapp]

[She laughed.] Sounds like any day in Miami. Just less of this. [She gestured to the wagons and horses.] Although sometimes prostitutes just end with brawls instead of shooting.

So how d'you know about old-timey people? Like were you a Bonanza freak or some kinda history guy?

[guzzles]

Um. Heh. No, my brother's into this stuff way more than I am. I just had to deal with his bad taste in TV.

[ Well, when Dean was actually around to pick the channel. When he was left to his own devices, Sam was much more likely to have the TV off than on. ]

I've been here before, though. I mean--not here here, but thrown into the past for no reason whatsoever. Almost didn't make it back.