test drive meme

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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!

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[sparklyrichbastard]

Tamaki takes the clipboard, but doesn't even glance at it. "What's your favorite snack?"

[secondtry]

Not on the sheet, no, but still easy to answer. Mike shrugged before answering, "Tacos. Real ones. But not the ones with chapulines." He shook his head, nose wrinkled. "I'll stick with beef or chicken, thanks."

As he spoke, he practically stretched out in the chair, pulling up one leg to prop the ankle on his opposite knee, fingers lacing over his stomach. The picture of casual.

[sparklyrichbastard]

Tamaki could not help but think how comfortable this commoner looked. Should he, perhaps, be sitting the same way? But no; they were being evaluated, after all, and he would hate to think that some poor, lovely lady might be on the other side of that one-way mirror, gasping in disillusionment after seeing him take on such a posture. He remained just the way he was.

"I tried chapulines shortly after I arrived here. They have the most interesting texture!"

[secondtry]

"I just happen to prefer my land-food with four or fewer legs," Mike smirked in answer. "Of course, I can't even start to predict what they put into the mystery meat that goes out with rations, but some things, it's better not to know."

Mike tossed him a wink.

[doubleshot]

She listened, leaning forward as he kept speaking. She wanted to say it was all normal, the not knowing, being a little frightened by the idea, that the satisfaction is there too. She wondered how much point there was in saying so now, so early in the process. Between now and any end goal, so much could happen... but the technology kept progressing.

Drift Simulators were coming closer to the real thing without crossing the final boundaries between minds. If he did make it to the Academy, then survived the first cut, he'd be participating in the closest thing to a Drift. Even then, it was still worlds different.

"It's a little of both. When people talk about knowing someone, trusting them entirely, you never know exactly how deep that goes. The Drift makes it impossible to hide." Andy left a wealth of things unsaid, leaving it to Mike to ask, or to let it sit without further explanation. It'd been difficult for anyone to capture exactly what Drifting was like in any of the countless interviews Rangers had been asked to over the years.

She straightened where she sat, hands resting on her armrests. "Science fiction's been predicting the technology leaps we might make for decades. What was it, cyberspace as invented in Neuromancer, before anything like it was on the market? Sounds like Star Trek was decades ahead of its time too." Two examples out of dozens. If she'd been a bigger study in modern literature, she might have ad more examples on hand. It wasn't her field of interest.

"I can set your mind to ease on the schizophrenia concern at the least. There's no real breakdown of emotions or perception. The danger in chasing the R.A.B.I.T. has to do with latching on to a memory, not getting lost in delusion. What you feel, and what you share, doesn't take away your sense of self."

[europeanunion]

Leila's just managed to open the topmost book on her pile, shaking her head upon realizing that she's picked up the incorrect one, when the voice surprises her. At first, she had thought it might have been the library assistant again, calling her attention and clicking his tongue at the organized mess that she's created. It isn't exactly a violation in any way but the way she's reprimanded sure feels like it (and this is despite the fact that she returns everything back in the correct shelves).

Still, the name is incorrect though; last time she remembered, her name isn't Armin or is close to Armin in any way.

When it wasn't the library assistant, Leila releases an inward sigh she didn't think she was holding then offers him a smile. She's seen him a few times in the library, near the end of the day when she's returning several books she's borrowed for classes and usually with another student. Most likely Armin, the person he's looking for.

"It's fine. It happens to every one of us." She looks down on the table again, past the open book and everything beneath it. More books, papers, a notepad ... "Were you planning on using this desk?"

[karearea]

"Finally!"

This, from the girl who's been fanning herself with a floppy hat. Ngaio bounded up from the suitcase she was sitting on (exposing a New Zealand flag patch sewn on by the handle) and started arranging her things: Suitcase upright, carry-on duffle hauled onto her shoulder.

"I can't wait to get there, eh," she told the man, fanning herself once more. She'd come from weather about seven degrees (Celsius) cooler than this. "I mean, I've been real excited about it since I got in, but now that I'm almost there I just want to have a sleep once we're all sorted."

She laughed at herself good-naturedly but also, honestly, a little embarrassed.

[secondtry]

Glancing over, Mike gave her a smile and a nod. "I'm wondering just what kind of quarters we'll end up in," he said, an amused smile on his face. "I mean, no matter what it is, I've probably slept on worse, but I'd mostly just like to have somewhere besides my bag for all my clothes."

And it was a bag that was old Army surplus, probably from back near Korea if not older - one with a single strap that he heaved up over his shoulder just before the bus slowed to a stop for the crowd of new cadets.

"And y'know, I should probably stop being surprised that I'm meeting people from everywhere."

[secondtry]

"But what about the hearing other people thing? From what I figured, that's about the point of the Drift. Hearing thoughts faster than you can say anything." But if it was just the hearing, it did help, in an odd way. It settled that deep fear that he'd lose himself in somebody else.

Mike couldn't help leaning forward while he spoke, listening, looking for an answer, and even if it wasn't the exact right time, maybe it was at lest a chance to ask someone who could point him to someone he could ask when it was the right time.

[karearea]

The bus doors opened. Nodding in agreement, Ngaio wheeled her suitcase along to what probably should have been a queue but was definitely more of a clump. She rolled her eyes, amused, and leaned on her suitcase for what might be a bit of a wait.

"I reckon it's cool," she replied. Sure, she'd grown up with tourists every summer, but she much preferred meeting people from elsewhere on equally unfamiliar ground. "It's like NCO courses, but like, international."

She didn't get her hand up in time to cover a yawn. "Sorry, bro - I couldn't sleep on the plane."

[secondtry]

"Hey, if yawning at somebody is the worst thing that's happened to you today, you're doing pretty great as far as I can tell." Extending his hand, he introduced, "Name's Mike. How about you?"

He used his other hand to hide his own yawn - damn things were contagious. Always had been, always would be, as far as he could tell. It was some kind of universal constant: yawns were contagious, even between species.

Re: [Luke fon Fabre | Tales of the Abyss|

[protagerrant]

[And that was time up. Yuri pushed himself up to stand, a tension he didn't realize he was carrying already dropping from his shoulders. He grabbed his interview clipboard and glancing at it briefly, double checking for any fill-in-the-blanks he may have missed. ]

Hey, look at that. We even managed to get to one of the questions. [He raised an eyebrow imperiously, tone mocking sternness as he looked back at Luke.] We'll make a pilot out of you yet, son.

[And then he turned with a brief, backwards wave] If your family's money doesn't get you there first.

Re: Andrea Martin | OC | Ranger for Hydra Corinthian

[protagerrant]

"Yuri," he said, taking her hand for a firm, brief shake. It was probably obvious to Andy that Yuri recognized her right off. His posture straightened up from his casually indifferent sprawl, and he observed her with interest and some small measure of wariness. What were the chances of him being paired with one of the pilots who saved Telluride?

Higher than you think, He told himself. There weren't that many active jaegers and anyway, an attack survivor joining the the PPDC was an old story. This wasn't some weird, backhanded psychological test. Probably.

He relaxed, dropping into his seat and resuming his easy posture, ankle resting on his thigh.

"I didn't know they made pilots do this kind of thing. Unless you volunteered."

[perfectionisms]

"That's disgusting." It's an all-encompassing statement of Franziska's opinion on her interview partner, from the cop out answer, to the very stench of his presence. In her mind, his name is already Sloppy McSlob.

PCR thermal cycler? She's not familiar with that device. She's not familiar with most tools in general. Does that even fit in a toolbox? She glances towards the direction of what seems to distract him, trying to look for a way out of that question. There's a glass there. She knows from being on the opposite side before, observing her brother work.

She's stalled long enough. "A screwdriver." And she asks the next question immediately to avoid having her choice questioned. "What time of day do you accomplish the most?" If he does accomplish anything at all.

*shakes head at*

[perfectionisms]

Does it, now? [ She raises a perfectly-shaped eyebrow at the girl, because clearly she has no taste. And, come to think of it, the clash suits her just fine. But not orange. Definitely not orange. ]

Now, what is your least favorite color?

[perfectionisms]

At first she smiles at his answer. Finally someone (with good breeding and taste, she might add) agrees with her. And then she frowns. He just copied her answer. That is unacceptable.

"Is that your final answer?"

[overeducated]

Not safe, he says, but if he doesn't watch where he walks, the abrupt appearance of two boney legs sticking way too out into the aisle may just trip him up.

The owner of the knobby knees didn't mean to be malicious -- he'd just swung around too quick, the boy grabbing his attention as sure as a laser pointer might a cat's.

"A little bit? In the same way a chef is a little bit a cook?"

... That, though. That was definitely on the deadpan side of cheeky.

scenario one.

[overeducated]

"Do we have to skip to that one? What about getting to know each other first? Come on, more like... something like... ah! Do you have any pets?" Now wait a minute, that hadn't been on the list.

-- As if he'd care - the attentive, expectant look shot toward the other certainly didn't seem to.

Before his response, however, his eyes trained first and foremost to the clock on the wall, the rest of the room dismissed in much the same casualness as she had dismissed it; likewise, he took his seat with the briefest (read: one owlish blink and a nod back) acknowledgement, remaining thereafter - well, until the question - completely distracted from his interview partner. At least talking seemed to rein his focus in a bit.

[youlostme]

Naturally, he doesn't look where he walks. He's too focused on what he's planning to be doing in a minute: fixing the air conditioning and making everyone on the bus feel better on their trip to the Shatterdome. So he doesn't see what's ahead of him in the next second.

"Oof!" And he staggers and clutches frantically at the seat ahead of him.

Blinking, Shirou straightens up, still clutching the edge of the seat, to stare at the man addressing him. "Yeah, but that means I could probably make it a little bit better. What's the problem with that?"

[overeducated]

"-- Oh, whoops, sorry! Are you alright? You look alright. Good, good. The problem..."

Despite the apology, the Doctor's slow on removing his legs from the aisle, lower body twisting rather than him looking away for even a second. A chef made a fantastic cook, so if it was anything like he'd just said, this boy would definitely potentially be able to fix it, and thus, finally,

"... The only problem's that fixing it would require a pit-stop, and then we'll be late. But I'd say we have the time, so - actually - the other problem is --" It wasn't actually a problem, "- mind if I watch?"

[youlostme]

Of course, the boy in question looks a bit young to actually be a trained mechanic, despite his confidence. Or a trained anything, really: he can't be more than seventeen or so. But his eyes are bright and earnest.

"I could have a look at it while the bus is running," he begins, "and only stop us when I'm really ready to--" And he cuts off, belatedly registering that final question. "Watch? It's pretty tedious. I wouldn't want you to get bored or anything like that."

[overeducated]

Age is naught but a number - possibly not even a well-remembered number, at that - and it was thoughts such as those that had a thirty-something year old's eyes lighting up as if the boy were offering him the chance to study a kaiju up close and personal with no strings attached.

"How can you have a look at it while it's running? Are there panels on the insides of buses? Will you really be able to tell if it just needs more fluid or if there's something actually broken off? Oh, that is spectacular. You lead the way, I'll follow."

... And, supposedly, don't worry a tick about him being bored, as the possibility, even considering the other's assertions, doesn't even seem to register with him.

[youlostme]

Heedless of whether the bus driver would even allow him to proceed, Shirou starts for the front of the vehicle again. "It's not as if the entire air conditioning system is in the engine compartment, you know? Of course, some of it is and I guess we'd have to stop to look at that." I guess, he says in mildly rueful tones, as if apologetic over the fact that he can't climb around on the hood of the bus fixing things in mid-drive. "But I can see whether it's clogged, or the fan's not working, or the refrigerant isn't reaching this part of the system."

He makes a bit of a face. "If that doesn't work, we'd have to stop, I guess. Sorry."

chelsea | akame ga kill!

[cosmetician]

( scenario i.)

The chairs are strictly utilitarian things, all hard edges and unyielding lines that offer support but not an ounce of comfort. Yet Chelsea lounges in hers as though it came with plush cushions and a flexible spine, seemingly at ease with herself and her surroundings. A lollipop is in her mouth; she toys with it idly as she scans the questions.

"—Which tool in a standard toolbox is most useful to you?" A pause, then a lazy grin spreads across her face. "Oh, this sounds like a much better question to start with. Like, what does someone's favorite color have to do with anything?"

Her focus shifts to the person sitting across from her. A cocked eyebrow, the slightest dip of her head forward. Something that might be a challenge glitters in those bright red eyes as she waits, expectant, for an answer.

"Well?"

( scenario ii.)

Despite the heat, one of the cadets is working away at a lollipop with obvious relish as she gazes out the window. There's an easy smile on her face, no obvious tension to be found in the lines of her body, yet the look in her eyes is grim as well as faraway. It's not the gaze of someone wrapped up in idle, pleasant thoughts.....Ah, but maybe that's just a trick of the light. Because in the next moment, she's turning easily to offer another lollipop (this one still wrapped) to the nearest person with a grin too lazy and too mischievous to be appropriate in the slightest. As if this was a carefree school trip to somewhere fun, somewhere safe.

"Hey, you want one? It's a long trip."

There's only coy amusement to be found in her gaze, now.

[ooc: also available for bracket tagging!]

[heliokleptic]

Luke wasn't sure he was prepared for Andrea Martin to remind him more of a teacher than anything else. But he wasn't going to argue, gripping the edge of his chair with what is left of his idle nervousness.

The question, when it comes, seems harmless enough but as soon as Luke goes to think of an an answer, he deflates visibly. Mostly because of what came to him immediately. "Can I say never...?" It wouldn't be fair to say he looks miserable, just defeated. The face of someone who knows his limitations and accepts them as just an ordinary part of his day.

But he doesn't leave it there. Reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck, not quite looking at Andrea and not quite looking at the glass. "But... Sorry, that sounds lame. That's kind of why I'm here. To figure out how to feel like I've done my best."