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academyooc2014-01-20 08:39 pm
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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. |
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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.
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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! |
Kou Ichijo | Persona 4 et al
Kou's a bit nervous, honestly. He was sent here to succeed, not to flunk out on a technicality. The questions aren't what he expected. Few of them are relevant at all. It's more like a personality test than a knowledge test, isn't it? That's great, but which personality are they looking for here? Is there a wrong answer? Is it just to determine compatibility?
Maybe that's it. He taps the cards together, forgetting that he's grasping them too tightly for that. A thin line of blood blooms on the inside of his index finger. A paper cut. He stares at it for a moment, watching the red spread over his pale skin. Well, he'll just have to be himself. You can't get through everything on tradition. He clears his throat, and shoots an easy smile at his interview partner. "I've never built anything in my life," he admits. "Maybe the measuring tape. Nothing works if it doesn't fit, right?"
2.
Travel is a familiar concept for Kou, but this is a diffeent style than he's used to. He'd occasionally reflected before on what sort of difference it made to forgo first class, walking past long lines of other passengers at aeroports. He'd always found the scene distasteful, and secretly had hoped to try general boarding out at some point to see what it was like.
This is a little more than he'd bargained for. The bus is crowded and stuffy, the roads are rough. He's jet lagged and nauseous, craning his neck toward the nearest window to try and catch a glimpse of he unfamiliar country whizzing by, as though it might help. It's a tossup, between the exhaust fumes and the burning feeling of the overheated floor beneath them. He wipes some sweat from his brow and glances around. Is this normal? It can't be, right? Everyone else looks miserable, too.
He pulls some gum from a pocket -he'd brought it for the flight, and he's glad for it now- and offers a piece to the nearest person he can catch the eye of. "Fresh out of the rose and lemon ice, but here's some ginger."
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It's obvious that Leila's thinking through the questions too hard, lips pursed and forehead creased, that she nearly all but ignore her partner. Her father has never been home for too long to teach her whatever art he knows in construction or building; her grandfather, on the other hand, prefers to buy pieces rather than make them. And the Royal Navy certainly did not include "items in a standard toolbox" as part of her studies during her brief time with them.
She pauses, giving the question some more thought, before she looks up at him from the sheet of paper. "Then I'll go with the hammer. It seems that you can do various kinds of repair as long as you have a hammer and a handful of nails."
Sound logic ... or at least, she thinks it is. Leila smiles slightly before she glances back down at the list of questions. She's usually not one to say anything (most especially during evaluations like this) but — "Not at all of them makes sense, do they? The questions, I mean."
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"Maybe it isn't the answers that they're looking for. They might want to see how we approach the situations?"
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And some of the questions are simply ... She once more looks up at her partner expectantly. "All right. Do you have children then?"
She skips number 3 for now, if only because the fourth one would definitely (or at least, she believes it would) show how one approaches the question or situation. After all it can't just be a yes or no answer, can it?
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"Just a baby sister."
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"I'm not sure if that counts as children." The question does sound amusing now, especially when it came from her and directed at him. "By age, perhaps."
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She imagines it's a different experience, having young children at home than having none. Lots of running and yelling, full of endless games and high energy. She imagines it to be exhausting but she thinks the house wouldn't have felt so imposing if she had company other than her grandfather.
"How old is she?"
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There's a hint of pride on Kou's face when he talks about his sister, though there's also a slight twitch just at the corner of his lips that hints at unspoken reservation as well. The smile reaches his eyes, though, and he casts a dreamy look off to the side. "Her name is Sachiko. She's really cute."
It's probably time to get back on track, though, so he straightens up in his seat a bit -though his posture is still relaxed and his expression still polite and friendly- and moves on. "What time of the day do you accomplish most tasks?"
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It takes her several minutes to come up with an answer to the next inquiry. It isn't because the question is overly complication; it's not. It's simply asking for the time of the day after all. But given her usual timetable at home (and her innate ability to think through things too hard), she has various tasks depending on the time of the day and the weight of one task isn't often the same as another. She'll go with the safest answer however.
"Late at night. It's much easier for me to concentrate when everyone's already asleep."
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"Do you? Mm, I like sleep too much to stay up like that. I try to split tasks between after school and early morning. Never during lunch."
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After the bus hits three potholes in a row, it becomes impossible to even pretend that he can read under these conditions. He finally sits back and scans the rows, sizing up his fellow cadets-- and immediately feels like an idiot.
"Ichijo?!"
How long has he been there? Damn it, Yaichirou should've greeted him sooner. This might not be as formal as their usual encounters but it was still rude to ignore him. He clears his throat and tries to gather his composure.
"I must admit, I didn't expect to see you here. It's been a while."
A little over a year, in fact. He isn't keeping up with the prominent families nearly as well as he should.
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"Hopefully you slept on the flight." He adds, with a yawn and stretch.
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"It was somewhat difficult considering the close quarters." Read: he got maybe fifteen minutes of sleep and woke up with pins and needles all over. Airline seating just isn't build with tall people in mind. "I hope that you fared better."
He's operating on autopilot while he searches for a polite way to ask the burning question: why isn't Kou back home, learning the family business? He's been out of touch, but if there had been an upheaval serious enough to make them question Kou as their heir, he definitely would have heard.
(this particular conversation is in Japanese btw to anyone seated nearby, belatedly)
He can see unasked questions in Yaichirou's expression. It's no small wonder. It probably seems a pretty ridiculous maneuver to the guy, checking out right in the middle of being groomed for family obligations to go play hero in another country. In Kou's opinion, it's a breath of fresh air. With the exception of the stuff choking him as it whistles in through the bus window, that is.
He smiles faintly, and rolls his eyes. Might as well acknowledge it, right? "I was too excited. When I passed the first level everyone was shocked. You can imagine they weren't too happy to let me go try my hand at this."
He laughs, cheerful and musical, not the polite chuckle or formal smile that Yaichirou is accustomed to seeing from him.
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"You mean to say that you're here against their will?"
It's unfathomable to him that Kou would not only disobey them but gleefully flaunt his disobedience. What about his obligations to the family? What about the Ichijo's business? The part of Yaichirou that was well-trained by years of formalities wrestled with the part of him that was floored by Kou's mind-blowing irresponsibility, but it didn't take long for the latter to win out. After all, it's obvious that the boy before him is not the sensible heir of the Ichijo family that he knew.
"Are you insane?"
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"Not against their will, no." Against their initial better judgement sure, but that's not the question at hand here. "It was decided that I should be allowed."
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That's enough to keep him from popping a vein, but it's not enough to satisfy him.
"And is that because they came around to your reasoning, or because you were going to run off regardless of their decision?"
His tone is more curiosity than accusation. It's appalling of course, but it's just horrible enough to be fascinating. Besides, who doesn't enjoy a good opportunity to feel superior?
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"There wasn't a discussion."
There never was. He could give his case to his parents in hopes they might fall on his side and try to influence things, but he didn't have sway over any of it personally. The same as with basketball, the answer had nearly been 'no.' But then they'd thought things over again and realized they could spare him. It wasn't a joy filled moment for him after all.
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He deserves that glare, probably. That's one thing he had always taken for granted. It was a cold day in hell when he disagreed with his parents, but they would at least hear him out and include him in discussions about his future. Sometimes he forgets that everyone wasn't that lucky. He almost regrets the accusation-- just not enough to apologize. He sits back and shifts his gaze to the passing scenery.
"Regardless, it's good to see a familiar face here. Why do you want to be a pilot, though? It's a fairly radical change of direction."
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Something hot and bitter bubbles up in his throat and Kou swallows it, forcing the ugly burning feeling to stew in his guts where it belongs. He glances away, wishing the bus would hit a big bump and throw them all to the floor so he could get out of answering.
It doesn't. What sounds like a change of topic to any casual observers who happen to speak fluent Japanese should be a razor edged explanation to Yaichirou's ears if he thinks it over. "Sachiko will be having a birthday, soon. I wonder what local toys I can find to send to her..."
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"I could help you you find something age appropriate if you like, " he offers, still staring out the window. "I've survived three baby brothers, so I may be of some use."
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And yeah, fine, he doesn't want to talk about it. Alright?