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Briefing 1: April 24, 2016
Jul. 8th, 2009 06:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pyrephoxFor two weeks, the ANIMa structure has been shut down, by Suze's orders, giving everyone a bit of a break...whether they want one or not. It's about seven PM on the thirteenth day of forced hiatus when the stadium's PA system crackles to fitful life. "...pilots. Attention, ANIMa pilots and trained anchors. Report to mission room at twenty hundred hours. Eat first." With that final, terse admonition, the PA goes dead.
The 'mission room' used to be the home-teams' coach strategy room. The whiteboard still stands, but the former wallpapering of news clippings and motivational pictures has been replaced with ANIMa schematics and attempts at 'mapping' the dream world. As a result, the walls look like a combination of battle prep and Dalist nightmare.
The room smells like mildew and the long-ago echoes of sweat: two scents that it's damn near impossible to get out of the stadium as a whole, particularly after the flooding that followed the alien invasion. The chairs have been set up in conscious imitation of a schoolroom, with Suze's computer desk up front, to the side of the whiteboard, and scrounged lab tables in rows from there. The tables seat two: it's never been a formal rule that each table is for a pilot and their anchor, but things have often broken down along those lines. No assigned seats, and the room is outfitted for about 24 people...more pilots and anchors than the group has ever had, but Suze tends to get snarky if someone suggests taking out the extra desks and putting in comfortable seats or couches.
Suze is sitting on her desk, as she usually is. As she never is except at briefings, the woman is wearing a business suit and tie. The tie is already half undone, and once the pilots are in and settled, she immediately begins tugging and playing with the stained silk as she talks.
"I'm sure that the rest of you are getting tired of sitting around," she starts, hopping off of the desk and smiling a brittle smile, "so I'm pleased to announce that the upgrades to the ANIMa apparatus have been completed. I think I've got the glitch with imaging fixed; we shouldn't have to worry about subjects," all too often, it's 'subjects' rather than 'pilots', "experiencing the overlap between physical and imaged input, now. Also, I have great hopes that further experiments will allow the opening of the higher circuits of ANIMa creation. Currently, we operate at a BSC level; I'd like to see subjects shooting for NSC before we undertake any major counteroffensives." She doesn't bother to translate the terms; she rarely does.
"At any rate, the Paramatman Interface Upgrade is functional...said that already, didn't I? Yes, right." She shakes her head, as if to clear it, and swipes a hand across her eyes. A quick breath and a popped pill later, and Suze perks back up. "All that's left is to do a field test, be sure that there aren't any new kinks that slipped in with the improvements, and we can resume our schedule of missions. Chloe, you and Jake..." a slight pause at her brother's name, a hint of a frown on those narrow features, "I think you'll do for this. It's somewhat simple, but very necessary. It'll give you good experience to build on."
Suze crosses to the whiteboard, and begins to write as she talks: the handwriting is neat, precise, and overlarge, the handwriting of someone who had to teach younger children how to write before her own style was quite created. "Our mission will have three objectives. First, we'll test the A-Echoes by having you manifest at least a three-part ANIMa, preferably with both offensive and environmental components. Second, your objective will be to do a brief circuit around the imaged equivalent of the base. Unfortunately, we've given the enemy a window in which to reassert its presence within our safe areas, so we need visual confirmation of the extents of the breach." The idea that there might not be a breach is apparently not worth considering. "Third, and final, I want you to attempt immersion in the imaged sea. We have to ensure that the programming of the ANIMa remains 'waterproof', and I'd like you to take readings as you do so."
She puts the marker down, the mission objectives neatly numbered on the board, then turns to face the pilots, her attention resting primarily on Chloe and Jake. "Any questions? If not, then report immediately to the ANIMa chamber."
(OOC: If you do have OOC questions, please ask them here, or post an IC response if you'd like! Chloe and Jake, you're first up for mission, so please post the best times for you to attend the scene. I can do tomorrow (anytime), but after that, I won't be available until next Wednesday (anytime). Oh, and this marks the official start of the game. Feel free to start scenes! A scene can be backdated to the beginning of the hiatus period, April 11. If you need Suze, just give me a message, and I'll be happy to try and put her on.)
The 'mission room' used to be the home-teams' coach strategy room. The whiteboard still stands, but the former wallpapering of news clippings and motivational pictures has been replaced with ANIMa schematics and attempts at 'mapping' the dream world. As a result, the walls look like a combination of battle prep and Dalist nightmare.
The room smells like mildew and the long-ago echoes of sweat: two scents that it's damn near impossible to get out of the stadium as a whole, particularly after the flooding that followed the alien invasion. The chairs have been set up in conscious imitation of a schoolroom, with Suze's computer desk up front, to the side of the whiteboard, and scrounged lab tables in rows from there. The tables seat two: it's never been a formal rule that each table is for a pilot and their anchor, but things have often broken down along those lines. No assigned seats, and the room is outfitted for about 24 people...more pilots and anchors than the group has ever had, but Suze tends to get snarky if someone suggests taking out the extra desks and putting in comfortable seats or couches.
Suze is sitting on her desk, as she usually is. As she never is except at briefings, the woman is wearing a business suit and tie. The tie is already half undone, and once the pilots are in and settled, she immediately begins tugging and playing with the stained silk as she talks.
"I'm sure that the rest of you are getting tired of sitting around," she starts, hopping off of the desk and smiling a brittle smile, "so I'm pleased to announce that the upgrades to the ANIMa apparatus have been completed. I think I've got the glitch with imaging fixed; we shouldn't have to worry about subjects," all too often, it's 'subjects' rather than 'pilots', "experiencing the overlap between physical and imaged input, now. Also, I have great hopes that further experiments will allow the opening of the higher circuits of ANIMa creation. Currently, we operate at a BSC level; I'd like to see subjects shooting for NSC before we undertake any major counteroffensives." She doesn't bother to translate the terms; she rarely does.
"At any rate, the Paramatman Interface Upgrade is functional...said that already, didn't I? Yes, right." She shakes her head, as if to clear it, and swipes a hand across her eyes. A quick breath and a popped pill later, and Suze perks back up. "All that's left is to do a field test, be sure that there aren't any new kinks that slipped in with the improvements, and we can resume our schedule of missions. Chloe, you and Jake..." a slight pause at her brother's name, a hint of a frown on those narrow features, "I think you'll do for this. It's somewhat simple, but very necessary. It'll give you good experience to build on."
Suze crosses to the whiteboard, and begins to write as she talks: the handwriting is neat, precise, and overlarge, the handwriting of someone who had to teach younger children how to write before her own style was quite created. "Our mission will have three objectives. First, we'll test the A-Echoes by having you manifest at least a three-part ANIMa, preferably with both offensive and environmental components. Second, your objective will be to do a brief circuit around the imaged equivalent of the base. Unfortunately, we've given the enemy a window in which to reassert its presence within our safe areas, so we need visual confirmation of the extents of the breach." The idea that there might not be a breach is apparently not worth considering. "Third, and final, I want you to attempt immersion in the imaged sea. We have to ensure that the programming of the ANIMa remains 'waterproof', and I'd like you to take readings as you do so."
She puts the marker down, the mission objectives neatly numbered on the board, then turns to face the pilots, her attention resting primarily on Chloe and Jake. "Any questions? If not, then report immediately to the ANIMa chamber."
(OOC: If you do have OOC questions, please ask them here, or post an IC response if you'd like! Chloe and Jake, you're first up for mission, so please post the best times for you to attend the scene. I can do tomorrow (anytime), but after that, I won't be available until next Wednesday (anytime). Oh, and this marks the official start of the game. Feel free to start scenes! A scene can be backdated to the beginning of the hiatus period, April 11. If you need Suze, just give me a message, and I'll be happy to try and put her on.)