test drive meme

[supportadmin]

Test Drive Meme The Pan Pacific Defense Corps was usually offered any of a variety of local buildings to set up their testing centers. For reasons of access and availability, most testing clinics were set up in central areas for any given community. Those of the PPDC staff on hand vary in their personal intensity. Some of the men and women wearing Strike Group insignia seemed overly serious, to the point of frowning with intensity at some of the youngest checking in for this testing round. Those from the K-Science division are tight with nervous energy as they direct prospective cadets through various activities. Everything was meant to measure potential, looking for that spark that meant they had somebody who was Drift Compatible. The majority of people were turned away after the first series of seemingly random tests, officials looking in eyes, placing odd looking contraptions over heads, asking for people to play a series of short games, one even in a virtual reality set-up.
	( SCENARIO ONE ) If you are still here now, you've made it past the first cut. You'll be sat down in a room with the rest who have made it this far, then systematically led into smaller interview rooms as pairs. If you came with a partner, they're your first interview candidate. If you came on your own, all your interviews are random assignment. All who have been asked to stay are required to sit through and conduct a series of short peer to peer interviews. The questions are straightforward. What is your least favorite color? Which tool in a standard toolbox is most useful to you? What time of day do you accomplish the most? Do you have children? What do you believe the Drift is like? Peer to peer interviews last for half an hour to an hour, and each person is asked to participate in at least three peer-to-peer interviews. There is no punishment for going off script. There is a one-way mirror looking into each interview area, and one door leading into the room with a small panel of glass located on the door. There is a clock on the wall in each room. The time they report is odd, when examined. These are not digital clocks, but timers, counting up time since the last Kaiju attack.
	( SCENARIO TWO ) Congratulations! You have been judged Drift Compatible, and sent home to pack after giving a definite yes to the Pan Pacific Defense Corps. The next thing you face down is the flight into Santiago, Chile, and the subsequent drive in to Valparaíso's Shatterdome. You and the rest of the crowd of soon to be PPDC Ranger Cadets have been gathered together to wait for the old bus scheduled to take you to the Shatterdome. While waiting in the open air, those from any Northern Hemisphere countries may find the summer weather strange. Today's high is going to be in the upper 80's, and there's not a cloud to be seen that's not clinging to the distant mountains. Welcome to Chile. When the bus arrives, it's another hour ride out toward the coastline to get to the Shatterdome. Even better? The bus Air Conditioner is broken. Safe travels, Cadets!
Please set up your own scenarios as you like. The above two scenarios are suggestions. Anything goes!

→ Directory ←

Comments

James Wei (no not that Wei) | OC | Medical

[wrongwei]

III.

James flipped through the next patient's papers on the clipboard, skimming the details of the nurse's notes as he tried to swallow down the nervous butterflies in his stomach. Clinic visits were old hand by now, but being part of the PPDC was still new and he was always vaguely worried that the next visit would be something he'd never seen before and then what would he do? It wouldn't do to show his new employers that he couldn't live up to his resume. The best thing he could do was to learn about his new patients and put all his skills to use in their favor.

With a quick glance down at himself and a smoothing of his tie and labcoat, he put a hand on the doorknob, took a deep calming breath, and pushed his way in. Immediately he flashed a polite smile he hoped was comforting and not awkward at the person waiting inside.

"Hello. I hope I didn't keep you waiting long. I'm Dr. Wei, what brings you in today?"



IV?!


It was a quiet morning, one of the rare ones. There were no Kaiju actively roaming, and most of the cadets hadn't arrived yet. The hangar crew were mostly buzzing about doing maintenance and repairs, and the few pilots on base were scattered here and there, either eating or resting or in the Kwoon Combat Room. It was the perfect time for James to poke around and explore, familiarize himself with the layout of the base and the academy before things got busy again. After all, at any moment the alarms could ring and everyone would immediately move to their stations.

But for now? It was (relatively) quiet, and it gave James a chance to wander about with his mug of fresh coffee in one hand and his labcoat draped over his other arm. Take in the sights as it were.

> If he's maybe a little absent-minded while walking, well something had caught his eye and it wasn't you until it was too late. "AHHHH!—oh damn it, I'm so sorry, here let me check you—"

> What's a medical doctor doing in this room anyways?

Herc Hansen | Pacific Rim

[oldmanstriker]

There's a man slumped in one of the mess hall chairs, one foot up on the seat next to him, and a jacket spread across his lap.

He's tossing a ball up into the air, catching it, not even glancing at it. He seems to be paying the act as little attention as possible. Of course, anyone who's not been under a rock for the past five years will notice the man as one Hercules Hansen, pilot of the Australian Jaeger Lucky Seven.

And he seems lost in thought, tossing the ball, his gaze fixed on the table in front of him.

Simon Gryber | Gurren Lagann | Scenarion 1

[gyroscopic]

((He's an ex-ranger, public background is here))

"Ah, this really brings me back." Not that his entry into the academy, the Alaskan branch, had exactly gone like this. There wasn't any pretense of finding someone for him to drift with, Kamina had made that decision long before they even arrived. But he'd been younger then, like a lot of the faces here. Nervous and wondering if it was possible, why anyone might believe he could possibly pilot.

It was hard to believe how it'd all turned out.

Simon slumps easily into the folding chair, smiling at the person across from him. This wasn't like the past. Kamina wasn't here, so Simon would just have to be completely confident in his place. "I guess we should start with names, eh? I'm Simon. How's it going?"

Shindou Takuto | Inazuma Eleven GO!

[presto_turn]

[Scenario 1]

By the time he settles down in the interview room, Shindou looks like all the tension inside of him has been taken hold of from both ends and stretched tight. He presses his back board-straight into his chair, keeps his lips set tersely together, and doesn't permit himself to frown. It's the not knowing that's getting to him. Every new test feels as arbitrary as the last, and he can't even tell what it means that he's apparently "passed" so far, let alone what he's supposed to be showing them now.

The list of interview questions, clasped between both hands on a clipboard, isn't helping. He wrinkles his nose at them in confusion and displeasure before looking up towards his first partner. That stern expression softens just a little, apologetic, as he does so. He shouldn't take his nerves out on anyone else going through this. They're all here for the same thing.

"Is it alright if I ask first?" That must be a rhetorical question, because he only flicks his eyes back downwards and reads, "What's your least favorite color?"

[Scenario 2]

He is outright melting in the seat of this bus.

Not that it's so much worse than Tokyo in the summer. But their transport is practically an oven without air-conditioning, and the energy's already been sapped from him by the ages-long flight from Japan. He ought to be trying to get to know the other recruits seated around him, at least learning their names. They're going to be working together and relying on one another, after all. Still, with sweat matting his hair to his neck and eyes sore and heavy, he's weary enough from just dealing with himself.

Oh, and for a bonus, the big water bottle he'd filled up before they left has gone dry now. He squeezes it in one hand, crumpling the logo from his last school's football club. His other reaches up to wipe his brow, and he visibly stifles a sigh.

Then finally bothers to glance over to his side.

"I'm sorry. I haven't even said hello yet." If he forces himself to pay attention to everyone else, maybe this will go faster. "The trip's been a long one for me."