The Technician (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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worldsmeme2017-01-28 04:23 pm
worldtech) wrote in worldsmeme2017-01-28 04:23 pm
West World - Test Drive Meme #1
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! ★
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Amos readily shifted his grip to clasp her wrist to stabilize the grip and help her up, laughing a little at her words. "Sure do make the best stories, honey! But don't worry, I won't tell this one to anyone else. Wanna try it again?" He glanced at Joe, who stood contentedly and watched them with his head slightly turned, an ear tilted back to listen to them. Amos reached out to pat him on the shoulder, fondly. Some animals you could just become instant friends with.
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Following Amos' instructions from before, she managed to hop up onto Joe's back again. This time, she didn't slip over the other side, although she had to steady herself with her hands on the back of his head for a second, which she was sure Joe didn't like.
After all, she wouldn't especially like it if someone grabbed her head.
But she regained her balance quickly enough, looking down with a beaming smile. "Second time's the charm!" she chirped. Only too late did she remember that the saying was actually 'third time.' She was always mixing that one up.
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Amos laughed, "So it is! Good job! It'll get easier as your practise." He patted Joe's neck, pleased with his match of experienced horse and novice rider. Joe flicked his ears and snorted, sending Amos what amounted to everyone starts learning somewhere and Amos nodded. That was certainly true! "Joe here will take care you. He's a good boy, knows what he's about. This is not his first trail ride, he says."
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Because she knew nothing. Nothing at all.
It wasn't a position she was used to being in. Ariadne was a spy, after all. It was her job to know what was going on before anyone else.
Waking up here had been...unsettling.
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Amos eyed her for a long moment, measuring, his smile twisted wry. At last he admitted, "Yanno, I think so too. You wake up somewhere different, same as I did?"
It's a risky thing to ask, but he was fairly sure this gamble won't come back to bite him too hard. He looked up at her steadily.
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She nodded slightly. "I went to bed in my room in Valeria," she said quietly. "It was the middle of winter. The next thing I knew, there wasn't a snow bank in sight and I was surrounded by all these...strangers."
And the horses...
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Amos nodded along. "I was at a friend's house. An' this is definitely not the city I was in." Nor possibly even the time, because he was pretty sure this was somewhere frontier and he was from the twenty-first century. He left that out, though, and shook his head a little. "Bit confusin'."
More than a bit. But it was a relief, in a way, to know that he wasn't the only one.
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Her eyes searched Amos' face, her expression open and honest and clearly just the tiniest bit afraid.
"What happened to us?" she asked.