[ open ] Welcome to Chile, Cadets.

[supportadmin]

Characters: ALL.
Location: Valparaíso Shatterdome, Chile.
Date/Time: February 15th-28th.
Summary: The first shipment of recruits into the new Jaeger Academy program arrive. Some are staggered throughout the month, but they all have the same basic greeting. Here you are, there's where you sleep, here's what you wear, get going.
Additional Notes: See here for additional information. For information on the current weather, check out this link.

The Shatterdome didn't look futuristic, swatches of metal and concrete transforming a portion of the harbor into five enormous bays. Nevermind that only two were currently in use. The stark greys stand out against the colorful face of the city, a hulking monolith that's been carved into the face of the city that had once upon a century been termed the Jewel of the Pacific.

Note: Players are welcome to start their own interactions outside of the three main prompted scenarios. Go wild!

Comments

ARRIVAL | OUTSIDE THE SHATTERDOME

[supportadmin]

A man somewhere in his thirties stands with a clipboard by the gates the bus dropped the recruits by, dressed in the PPDC uniform spotted throughout the Shatterdome. He adjusts his glasses, fighting to keep a more sunny disposition on the serious, neutral side of thins as he calls out to each person standing around with their suitcases, packs, or simply the clothes on their backs.

"Cadet, report! Name and age?" He keeps his questions simple, looking for names on his list before dismissing each cadet and indicating for them to wait off to the left of the entrance.

"You have approximately one hour before we take you useless lot of nobodies by your barracks and show you how not to die around the Shatterdome! Stay close, and don't get curious! Curious cadets are dead cadets."

He smiles at the end, and it's almost friendly. Meet Lt. Diego Contreras. He'll be with you for a while.

[spareheir]

Kou gives his name and age, then stands around with the others to wait. Well...they're off the bus at least. That particular misery is over. It's time to begin the intense training, then. In an hour, anyway. Until then, they'll just have to stand around and wait it seems like. Maybe it's alright to make conversation?

He turns to the cadet next to him and decides to give it a shot. "It's nice here, isn't it? It was winter at home."

[inferiorcomplexes]

"It's not a very good Shatterdome if you expect us to die in it on the first day," Franziska says, a bit too loud to be a whisper. It may sound haughty, and that's because she is. She's also a bit nervous. She did not come here in the middle of nowhere, betrayed by her genetic predisposition to sweat from every pore on her body, to die on her first day.

[boomerangarrow]

She takes off her sunglasses before answering. "Kate Bishop. Twenty." If he keeps his questions simple and straight forward, Kate will do just the same with him. But she can't help rolling her eyes at his threat. She didn't have any desire to get thrown out this early in the program.

[inurhead]

"Hell of a greeting." Remarks a man who isn't a cadet at all, from a few feet away under a nice, shady tree. He remembers the routine, but it's not intimidating now. Besides, the cadets all seem to be checked in now. He's not interrupting anything important.

[reengineered]

Lucy arrives, looking wary at first, but determined once the group starts stirring, once names start being called. She has nothing in her possession besides the clothes on her back, no photos, nothing important. Just herself. Well, and a small notepad, a pencil, and a strong sense of doubt. She's here, isn't she? She made it. So now all she has to do is work her ass off.

When she's called, she hands over a slip of paper with her name and age clearly printed, then raises a hand to sign both to the man. It's unusual, yes, but hopefully it's acceptable. She doesn't expect the place to conform to her lack of speaking, and she knew full well it would be a challenge if she got in, but now's the moment. Now's when she has to start proving that she has what it takes.

Her relief is visible on her face when she's granted the free hour. Now to resist the temptation to explore...

BARRACKS | TURNING OVER PERSONAL ITEMS

[supportadmin]

When a second PPDC soldier appears, she's more serious, taking in the group of cadets with a glance. She doesn't seem impressed. "Attention! Cadets, fall in line! Double file, quick now, did your mother raise you lazy?" She stood at point, calling out further encouragement as needed.

"Most of you won't know how to march yet, so don't try. I'm Captain Zhang, and this is Lieutenant Contreras. You will refer to us with ma'am and sir. We're here to keep you in line and alive, so when we say jump? You jump. No asking how high."

She takes them inside not long after, Lt. Contreras bringing up the rear. It wasn't far to the barracks, where Contreras steps forward and calls out which names are assigned to which series of bunks.

"All personal items will be stowed until completion of the program. Items related to personal hygiene may be retained, and all barrettes and hair ties matching the color of your hair. You may keep a photograph, up to five. Report to Lt. Contreras for tagging and numbering. Dismissed."

After turning in their personal belongings, cadets will be allowed to sort themselves out, selecting their bunks in their respective rooms.

Re: BARRACKS | TURNING OVER PERSONAL ITEMS

[protagerrant]

By a near margin, Yuri manages to resist rolling his eyes. Ah, the dulcet tones of authority. He hadn't it missed it much at all, and even six months in Alaska hadn't made him used to it. It wasn't even the content he minded--just something about the pitch, like those whistles only dogs could hear, drove him nuts. And if he so much as raised on eyebrow out of line for the next three months, they could throw him out on his ear. Fantastic.

At least prior barracks experience meant he knew exactly which bunk he wanted. He headed straight for one of the bottom bunks nearest to the door, dropping the bag of hair ties he'd salvaged from his personal belongings onto the mattress and then settling down on it himself, watching the other cadets file in with open curiosity and a short nod of greeting.

[secondtry]

There hadn't been much for Mike to turn over. His toiletries, yeah, they stayed, but his hair was short enough that he didn't have any thing special for it, and he didn't even have any photos to sit around. All he'd exchanged, in the end, had been his clothes (which, if his prior experience held true, would be loose when these three months ended).

Now, left to choose his bunk, he'd chosen one at the bottom and was putting his clothing away in the preferred military manner. In some ways, he already missed Vegas. In others, this was just business as usual.

Re: BARRACKS | TURNING OVER PERSONAL ITEMS

[heliokleptic]

Luke carries the telltale look of someone whose never really been given such direct and clear orders, and is terrified of somehow getting them wrong. All wide green eyes, his stand to attention more stiff than starched. For once he's grateful to be on the shorter side, hoping perhaps he can go as long as possible without being called out for clearly having no idea what he was doing here. And luckily, at least so far, it works. Captain Zhang moves on and he briefs a sigh of relief before beginning to unload his personal items a little sadly.

He didn't have much. He was mostly going to miss his phone. He fires off a quick text to his mother to let her know he wouldn't have a phone for the next three months but promises to call when he gets a chance. That by itself was rare for him, but he'd been worried about her ever since their father died, and he'd been trying to do better about leaving her with no idea what he was up to or when he'd be safely home.

Good son duties accomplished, he stows his phone and other personals in a bag with his name on it, and goes to find a bunk that looks like it hasn't been claimed yet. Ideally something in a corner, where at least there was slightly less chance someone who hates him would end up sleeping within feet of him.

((Optional read on luke's public background))

Under 18 Barracks

[inferiorcomplexes]

She tosses her bag up the top bunk. There's nothing fragile or particularly important in there anyway. She climbs up the ladder slowly, relishing her last day in properly pressed clothing. Sweat drenched as they may be, they're hers.

She sits on the edge of the bunk, swinging her boot-clad feet by the ledge. (Let's take a moment of our time to pity the fool who may or may not be on the bottom bunk.)

She will watch everyone who enters the barracks from this spot. Maybe she'll call them out using a nickname based on their most prominent feature.

18+

[karearea]

After a text to her mum to say she's down to landline calls only and please could you print some photos of the whanau and snail mail them, Ngaio unpacks her hygiene things and hands over her suitcase, carry on bag, and the floppy hat she'd been carrying and fanning herself with. She's pouting furiously as she claims a bed and starts packing her Academy issue gear away, but despite the frown, her packing is neat and military, thanks to her time in Air Cadets.

Still, she waits until their senior officers are out of the room before she whines, "This is balls! My photos are on my phone - they let us keep our crap at Woodbourne."

[counterattacked]

Turning over personal effects

Eren doesn't expect to take very long with this part of processing. He's got little to sort out of his belongings, little to turn over in the first place. But there is the old fashioned key hung on the cord around his neck. And he pauses despite himself after pulling it over and off his head. Takes a moment to study it, as if committing the dings and scratches in the surface to memory, mouth drawn into a tight and tense line.

The last thing he has left of home, (of him,) and not entirely in a good way. The door that it opens had no doubt been destroyed with the rest of Oakland. Along with whatever had even been kept down there. It doesn't matter, does it? But he's held onto it all this time anyway.

He exhales sharply through his nose, as if to vent his frustration, or his irritation, or his anxiety, then wraps the cord around the key and hands it over with the rest of his things. He doesn't need it anymore.

Under 18 Barracks

They'd mostly made their way on their own for the past seven years. For a long time, Eren had been too angry and too proud to accept much in the way of charity or government aid, but the cooler heads of his companions had prevailed long enough to keep their heads down and to keep them warm and fed until they were old enough to earn their own keep. So in some ways, it's good to know they won't have to think about where their next meal is coming from here. And that they're going to earn every one in the defense of humanity.

So the sparseness of the accommodations is a small price to pay. (He'd sleep on the floor of the damn hangar if it meant getting a shot at being a Ranger.) After setting his bag down on the floor, he drops down against the bottom to try it out— and he does it with enough of his usual measure of reckless energy to rattle the frame. It shakes audibly, but holds fast. For now, this is home. They made it.

[boomerangarrow]

For being such a rich kid, Kate didn't bring much from home with her. She'd rather not have the reminder that her father disapproved of what she was doing. The less she brought from home the better. The only thing Kate even deemed worth keeping were her purple tinted aviator sunglasses, a compound bow and her phone. She sends a mass text to her friends informing them that she'll be busy for three months before placing it away. The sunglasses she'll give up easily, but she stares at the bow for a long while before placing them with her glasses. Three months without her bow. She can deal with that, she's still got all of her other training to fall back on. But there's nothing quite like a bow and arrow for comfort.

She shakes it off and takes a look at the bunk beds. She'll throw her bag on one of the top bunks to claim it for herself. It's not like anything fragile was left in it.

[prioritized]

Turning over personal items:

While she didn't put up an argument about keeping her scarf, it did take some time and a stern look from one of the higher ups for Mikasa to finally place the tattered thing in her box. Carefully folded and placed on top of the sparse few belongings she already packed away. She'd never considered herself the kind of person to get sentimental over items, but the scarf had been with her since before the first Kaiju attack, from a happier time.

She catches herself staring in the nearly empty box forlornly, and suddenly she seems to pull herself out of a memory and quickly places the lid on top. There's no use getting sentimental over a scarf.

Under 18 Barracks

The accommodations aren't much different, even a step up from the various refugee centers she'd stayed in with Eren and Armin. Even though the bunks were packed in the room like sardines, they looked sturdy and clean, and that's good enough for her.

Being at the top of the alphabet, she'd managed to get released to choose a bunk before the room got too packed and so she picked a bunk in an empty part of the room, swiftly claiming a top bunk where she could sit and watch for her friends. It's inevitable that they wouldn't be able to stick as closely together as they had for the last several years, but that doesn't mean she wouldn't try. Unlike some of the other recruits, her interests lie a little more selfishly than just the benefit of mankind.

[chosethewar]

Aside from a few family snapshots he kept in his wallet, Tom hadn't had much of anything worthy of turning over. He had a spare change of clothing that he traded for a cadet uniform, some toiletries and handed over his cell phone without even a fuss. Tom wasn't sure if they wanted their personal items because it helped to strip them of their civilian mentality or to make sure no one was surreptitiously spying on them but he didn't care either way.

He was anxious to get started and thus surrendered his personal affects with a tight lipped smile before heading down the hall towards the barracks set aside for the adult cadets.

Tom scanned the room for an open bunk and once he spied one nearest the door, he wandered over to it. The lack of even the most basic of personal belongings meant that it was easy to stow his kit away and once he'd done so, he settled onto the bunk to watch the other cadets stroll in. The quiet young man was studying each and every one of them, visibly accessing them for habits, quirks and other miscellaneous data. After all, these were the competition, correct? Who knew how many of them would make it through the Academy. Best to learn what he could about them now before people drifted into like-minded peer groups and loose alliances.

FREEDOM? | OPEN TO ALL THE SHATTERDOME

[supportadmin]

All the Cadets are run through a basic tour of the Shatterdome, stressing on points such as never walking inside the freight lanes on pain of injury up to and including death. They're shown to the Mess Hall, the Kwoon Fighting Rooms, the Classrooms, the outdoor training areas, the LOCCENT, and, of course, the Jaeger Bays. It's not comprehensive, but it takes them to the Shatterdome Exchange and lets each cadet be familiarized with the place they can come on base to buy both necessities and luxuries, if they have the chance.

Once uniforms have been issued, the cadets are given the rest of the day to themselves, informed they'll be expected back in the barracks by dinner call, and in uniform by the next morning. It's their first chance to look around and interact with the rest of the Shatterdome that's willing to deal with them, and an open call to the last free, clear time they'll have off schedule for a while.

Welcome to the Jaeger Academy. Remember, Heroes aren't born, Cadets.

They're made.

Wanna meet a rockstar? Yeah ya do.

[inurhead]

There's a cheerful sort of chaos going around the Shatterdome today, even if the new recruits are pissing themselves. There's nothing new about that. Yancy watches it all from a distance. He's not supposed to interact with the kids until they're released, glassy eyed and at a loss, probably convinced they've made a huge mistake. The first day feels like that. Hell, the first month feels like that.

But there's no rule against hanging out in the courtyard under a shady tree in plain sight. Might be reassuring for them to remember that others have made it through, right? Besides, it's a great vantage point to watch what's going on.

Re: FREEDOM? | OPEN TO ALL THE SHATTERDOME

[heliokleptic]

Freedom, Luke wasn't sure if he was relieved or not. The officers barking orders had successfully convinced him he might die at any moment around here if he stuck his nose even one millimeter out of line, or at least sent home, and now he felt hard pressed to find the courage to look around when he could definitely sit in the barracks and safely fidget for the rest of the day.

But in the end curiosity and anxiety get the better of him, and plenty of others were wandering around so it couldn't actually be that big of a deal. He would just stay away from anything that looked important.

Throughout the day he can be seen wandering the base, skirting the buildings with a wide, nervous berth, but looking around with undeniable curiosity, maybe even a bit of excitement. He already wished his phone hadn't been taken away. Here he was, walking around the newest shaterdome, and he couldn't text anyone about it.

Jaeger Bay

[doubleshot]

Andrea stood in her formal uniform, speaking with several of Hydra Corinthian's mechanics while going over the details of her last check-up. The twitches that had registered earlier in the week had calmed down, but it still worried Andrea. While no mechanic on her own, she could understand most of the jargon her mechanics used, enough to get the gist of what they'd checked over, what systems had been run through, fluid levels, heat levels, monitoring of radiation shielding effectiveness, and more on the unending list of maintenance.

Letting them head off for dinner, she took several steps back from Hydra Corinthian's foot. Not that it helped. At her sheer size, there wasn't any possible way to take in all of her from this kind of ground perspective. Andrea's head craned back, looking up at the sheer mass of her Jaeger.

"Sorry to leave you standing, girl." Jacqueline had expressed much the same on their last phone-call. It was going to be a long year until they were back in piloting condition. Little to do but endure it all.

Re: FREEDOM? | OPEN TO ALL THE SHATTERDOME

[protagerrant]

While everyone else milled around base, getting the lay of the land, Yuri had one specific mission. As soon as the cadets had been cut lose, he'd headed back to the barracks to change into PT clothes, then made for his best guess as to wear they'd be holding the PT sessions. Unsurprisingly, it wasn't hard to find; the base's design wasn't dissimilar to Alaska.

A lot of his fellow cadets would probably think he was nuts for voluntarily going for a run--they'd be forced into doing it plenty, in the days to come--but a nice, relaxing run, probably the last he'd get without instructors hollering and blowing whistles at him, sounded like just the thing to him, especially after being cooped up so long on the plane and in the bus. Should he be getting social with his fellow cadets instead? Probably, but they'd all get a lot closer than anybody wanted in the next few months, living and training together. Might as well shoot for peace and quiet while he could get it.

He did, however, make for an odd sight moving through base, or later, as the lone figure stretching at the start line of the track, or even later, trudging back to the barracks covered in sweat.

Mess Hall | you know you want to chat over dinner come on guys

[counterattacked]

At the end of their first day, the cadets are treated to their first of many mess hall meals. And even if the fare itself probably isn't anything special, the atmosphere, at least, seems to be promising. A tense sort of energy in the air that comes with being at the start of something huge and new. It's a good chance to sit back and take in everything that's happened. And everything that's going to come.

At least, it is where one Eren Jaeger is concerned. He spends most of his time bent over his tray and talking animatedly to a twiggy blond or a pretty girl, or both. Or neither, in the spaces between the comings and goings where he happens to end up alone for a while. Either way, there's an empty space at the table across from him. More than enough room for someone else to sit, if they wanted. No sense eating alone, right?

((A/N:Dinner party? If you're cool with threadcrashing by Armin and/or Mikasa (or drag in a guest of your own?) we can get us a group thread going for get-to-know-yous. Feel free to hit me with a note or a pm/pp if you want to sort out posting order or something, but I'm fine with playing fast and loose as we go. And of course, I'm down for nice easy one on one, too. Just hit me with a preference if you tag in.))

[secondtry]

It was damned good to be somewhere warmer than Alaska, even with the humidity. Vegas was nothing like this, all sand and flat and full of sequins and entertainment, but while he'd come to love it, this was what he was used to. This, even as sterile as the environment could seem, still felt like home.

He walked outside in what he felt would be his casuals from then on - coveralls to the waist, arms tied in lieu of a belt, one of the issued T-shirts on above that. It was great not to feel like he needed to put on a few more layers. Instead, he could sit down and stretch out in the sun, eyes closed, and smell the distant scent of trees alongside the salt of the ocean and the oil and ozone from the constant mechanical work inside the 'dome.

Yep, smelled just like home.

He smiled, fingers knitting behind his head. He knew he should probably mingle, actually talk to people, but for just a little while, what he wanted was to soak up some warmth.

moar rockstars

[gyroscopic]

((Simon is a ranger and former pilot of Helix Plunge. Public info here!))


Ahh... I'm actually kind of hot....

It had been a while since he was in uniform, and the truth was he had kind of missed it. At the very least, there was a familiarity and a reminder of the many struggles he'd endured keeping Kamina in uniform. So even if it was a little rigid for his preference, that was less the problem than the heat. He'd been in Australia once just long enough to tour the Shatterdome there, but that was the most he'd ever been in the southern hemisphere. Seventy degrees was too warm for a northerner like him on the best of days, but it wasn't even winter when it was supposed to be.

The result was Simon was really itching to dress down and go find some shade to lounge in until night fell, but he felt like his leash right now might be a little short. Even though no one had said as much (to my face), he felt like he'd let the PPDC down when he disappeared after Kamina's death. He was surprised he'd been accepted back readily, even allowed to retain his rank as ranger. He'd been prepared to start over from the ground up, but instead he'd gotten a spiel about being an inspiration and support to new cadets.

"So that means staying in line, Simon." He muttered wryly to himself. No obvious shucking his duties or wandering around out of uniform at least for the first month. He would even let the cadets call him 'sir', as strange as that always sounded.

Since he couldn't pass the time with a nap he might as well spend it putting names to faces. Simon looked around idly until someone caught his eye for whatever reason, then casually strolled up to them with a friendly smile. "Yo."

Jaeger Bay | another rock star arrives

[suicidemission]

[ Chuck’s standing at the foot of the fastest Jaeger in the world, Striker Eureka and god, what a fucking beauty. Striker’s the first (and only) Mark V with gorgeous, sleek lines - the fastest (and most expensive) mech to date.

Striker’s kind of the love of Chuck’s life.

Chuck's the youngest to ever enter the Academy, youngest to ever set foot in a Jaeger - sixteen, and he's piloting gigantic machines with his old man. He’s creating records just to to smash them up himself, and really? Chuck’s on top of the fucking world.

The Hansens arrived in Valparaíso and they immediately part ways, because – well, lets be honest, here. Outside the Drift, their relationship is nonexistent and Chuck doesn’t really have anything to say to his father in regards to anything other than their job.

Herc's off doing fuck knows what and Chuck's still in his drive suit, holding Max's leash while he inspects some microscopic scuff on Striker's foot. Do you approach? ]

[inurhead]

[Sure, Yancy approaches. It's only polite to introduce yourself to your co-workers. Chuck Hansen may be a scrawny teenager, but he's shaping up to be an active Ranger one day soon, and they could very well end up piloting alongside one another sometime in the future. Yancy whistles to call attention to himself, and to show some respect for a beautiful machine.]

You just get here?