The Pacific Rim Meme

[moisturizememe]

We always thought alien life would come from the stars. But it came from deep beneath the sea, a portal between dimensions in the Pacific Ocean. Something out there had discovered us. The first Kaiju made landfall in San Francisco. The second attack hit Manilla. Then the third one hit Cabo. Then we learned this was not going to stop. In order to fight monsters, we created monsters of our own. We needed a new weapon. The Jaeger Program was born. Two pilots, our minds, our memories, we were connected. Man and machine became one.

In the near future, giant monsters identified as "Kaiju" have begun attacking Earth's coastal cities, resulting in a war that takes millions of lives and quickly consumes humanity's resources. To combat the monsters, a special type of weapon is designed: massive robots, known as Jaegers. The Jaegers are controlled simultaneously by two pilots who are bound together in a process called Drifting, creating a neural link between their minds. The link lets them share the mental strain which would otherwise overwhelm a single pilot. The Jaegers are the last, best hope for humanity's survival.

Instructions:
1. Choose a role (or multiple roles!) and post with your character/fandom.
2. Others will post to you with a scenario.
3. All Jaeger names must made up of two words that have little to do with each other. This is mandatory.
4. Go big or go extinct. Or just have fun, that works too.


Roles:

1. Jaeger Pilot: The rock stars of the kaiju wars. You and your partner may be siblings, spouses, parent and child, or just two people who have the trust and compatability necessary for a successful Drift. Get out there and kick some ass.

2. Engineer: The war against the kaiju isn't just fought by the pilots. You're one of the countless support staff that design, repair, and enhance the Jaegers for maximum kaiju-smashing potential.

3. Scientist: Biologist, physicist, kaiju groupie. You study these horrific monsters so you can figure out how to destroy them...or you just really have a thing for alien anatomy.

4. Mission Control: Off the front lines but not out of the battle. You're watching the monitors, dealing out the orders, and generally making sure your Jaeger pilots don't do anything more stupid than normal.

5. Civilian: A black market dealer in kaiju organs, a reporter trying to get a (literally) big scoop, or just some poor schmuck trying not to get stepped on. You're one of the folks that the Jaegers are fighting for.

6. Other: Go wild.

Scenarios:

1. Preparations: Dealing with kaiju is a process, not a moment. Pilots need to physically and mentally hone their strength, engineers need to perfect the Jaeger weaponry and armor, scientists need to run their experiments, and black market dealers need to make their money.

2. First Neural Handshake: It's time to Drift with your partner. You'll experience each others' most painful secrets, joyous memories, and the time you got drunk and made out with the captain of the football team. Hang on, it'll be a bumpy ride.

3. Downtime: Chill out, have a beer, pretend the world isn't ending. You can explore the thriving towns that have grown up amongst the kaiju remains or just stay in the Shatterdome doing combat practice. However you relax, you've earned it.

4. Kaiju Detected: Battle stations, folks. Get to your cockpit, your command post, or your underground bunker. The monsters are coming, and they ain't gonna stop until someone does something about them.

5. Combat Mode: It's go time! You're in the heat of things, punching these otherworldly abominations in the face with your awesome. Remember to call your attacks; it makes them more powerful if you shout their names first.

5. Aftermath: Job well done, folks. Sit back, enjoy the celebrations, put another tick mark on your kill count...and if necessary, mourn the dead.

6. Other: Go further wild.


Shamelessly stolen from over here on memezilla.

Comments

[fiercestwarrior]

Rather than sit back down on his bed, Sif took a seat next to the beer bottle on his desk, back to glaring at him now that he appeared to be returning to more familiar douchebag territory.

"I'm not? Really? What would I do if you weren't around to tell me these things."

She ran a hand through her hair again. It really was too long for a ranger, a major inconvenience when it had to be stuffed into her helmet and yet she'd never gotten around to cutting it.

[conceivedeceit]

Personal space: invaded, and not on his terms! Loki shot Sif the ghost of a baleful look and said, "Carry on like a dunderhead, I presume."

His insult, like his look, carried little bite. He was thinking of what she'd said earlier. I mean what I say. There's nothing repulsive about the thought of kissing you.

"You ought to prove it, you know," he said absently, though his tone grew more focused as he continued. "That you truly do mean what you say."

She wouldn't be able to. He looked forward to the embarrassment she might exhibit upon the exposure of her lie with a twisted sort of vindictiveness -- that if he could not be willingly desired by one infatuated with his deceased brother, then he would instead find delight in being right.

(Pitiful.)

[fiercestwarrior]

Had she known that she was invading his personal space she would not have been so quick to take that seat. Sif was not actually in the habit of being disrespectful to people even if her harsh personality could most likely come off as rude sometimes.

"If you don't know that about me after all these years I don't think I can prove it to you."

Loki was rather stubborn when it came to his view of things after all. It was difficult to change his mind about something once he had decided how it was, especially when it came to how people viewed him. He always seemed rather eager to believe the worst about people in that department.

[conceivedeceit]

There it was, or what Loki twisted into becoming that which he sought. She wouldn't rise up to his challenge. He was right.

It was an ugly sort of satisfaction that gripped his heart. He brought the rim of the glass to his lips and savored his hollow 'victory', if even he could call it that.

As if pricked by self-awareness, he lowered the glass without taking a drink from it. "Slithering out of a challenge?" he asked, purposefully trying to provoke her. "How unbecoming of the Lady Sif. Johnson's betrayal must have hit you harder than suspected."

[fiercestwarrior]

"I'm not slithering out of anything, I just don't understand what you're after."

Loki's quick mind could be difficult to follow when sober, so now Sif was finding that she had to scramble a little to keep up.

[conceivedeceit]

He lifted his chin proudly, defiantly-- and defensively. "You said there was nothing repulsive about kissing me. Prove it."

[fiercestwarrior]

"I very recently broke up with someone, I also just admitted to still being way more hung up on your dead brother than I should be, and you actually want me to kiss you? Is that what you're saying right now?"

She hopped down from his desk, and marched straight to his door because she had the sneaking suspicion that if she didn't, she might end up doing something really stupid.

Like kissing Loki because she was drunk and hurt and he wanted her to prove a point.

"I don't have to prove anything to you, Odinson."

And with that she opened the door and stepped through it, slamming it shut before making her unsteady way to her own room where she curled up on the cot she had until so recently been sharing with Haldorr.

Then, at last, she allowed herself to cry.

[conceivedeceit]

Loki faced her rebuke with stony silence and a rigid grip on his glass that belied the unaffected calm he portrayed. He said nothing -- did not even try to say anything as Sif rose and slammed the door behind her. He listened to the echo of her descent down those two shallow stairs, but her footsteps faded before she reached the intersection of the hallways.

His regret progressed gradually, in the slouch of his shoulders, the relaxation of his fingers around his drink, and the lowering of his chin, all pride and defiance evaporated. He closed his eyes, sucked in a long breath and released it with a sigh that admitted more than his words ever could.

Callous, rude, uncalled for. He was guilty. She would never wish to speak with him -- nay, even associate with him again, nevermind that they hadn't so much as an acquaintance outside of their official positions. The consequence was acutely undesirable still.

He did not feel like the grime off of Thor's shoes, but grime -- maybe he felt like grime, a bit. No doubt his reputation would sink further come tomorrow, too.

His insides churned with the thought -- the thought of Sif sharing this exchange, this mistake with his (their) fellow PPDC members. Sliding lower into his chair, he tipped it backwards, laid the back of his palm over his closed eyes and dreaded.