RP Aspiring Candidates Found

Jamie might have tried to continue the conversation she was in, but she was distracted by the arrival of a young man in an outfit that left... quite a lot to the imagination. She had always wondered why that phrase usually went the other way. Maybe people just didn't have very good imaginations? Jamie had a great imagination. As it were. Also this was definitely not the time for that sort of thing, and fortunately she wasn't obligated to comment because someone else answered his question first, and also the other doors opened and revealed the people who were probably in charge of this, as much as anyone could be in charge of anything around here.

Isaac Cotta. Mr. Security Guy, given the armor and the weapons. Interesting contrast between him and the guy in just the apron, enough to make Jamie kind of curious about what he was like out of the armor, which led to the question of whether he was one of those guys who was pretty much always in armor, which led to the questions of: did he sleep in it? and how did he take a shower? and what happened if he was eating soup and spilled some of it inside the chest piece, did he have secondary armor to wear while it was being cleaned, and how did you get soup out of armor, actually?

This was, perhaps, too many questions.

Next speaker: Hope Phillips, Secretary of Secretaries. Jamie did not discount the power of a secretary. There were probably reasons that a lot of governments used that as a title for important positions, and it often had something to do with the idea that the person who held the papers held the power. History could be made but it could also be written, and those accounts didn't always have to match up. Apparently Jamie was going to be talking to her, along with another young man (not the naked one) and the mechanical maker. That was an interesting group. She took a moment to look at the other young man, mostly because he was one of the few people here who wasn't acting extremely weird, which quite possibly meant that he definitely was, but the question was how? Jamie debated going over to him and just asking how are you weird?? but that was probably not polite. Maybe Hope would ask him in the interview.

And lastly, Cody Redd, Dr. Whys Guy, apparent vendor of scientific puns. Jamie contemplated his shirt for a while, wondering mostly why chemistry? There was the whole periodic table, which was the reference - she should probably get over the habit of explaining the joke, even if she was explaining it to herself in her head - but also, why not physics? Why not focus less on recurrence of the elements and more on oscillation? Or did he have a similar one that he wore in April announcing the arrival of F=kx? Or something about a pendulum, except she wasn't quite sure how to work that one into a pun except maybe something to do with Poe, and-

Isaac asked if they had any questions. Oh boy, did she ever.

Most of them she probably shouldn't ask. Probably best not to answer, then, or at least not directly.

There was the one, though:

"Does the foundation guarantee and stand responsible for my safety, sanity and autonomy for the duration of this interview?"

Given what Jamie knew about the Foundation, it was entirely possible something like that could happen after she signed on, but at least for the time being, she didn't want a whole hey, you're the one who came inside, that means I get to do what I like situation going on. Better to get that stated up front and verbally acknowledged. That way, if anything happened like taking away her free will or trapping her in a magic circle for seven thousand years... well, at least her relatives would have recourse to come visit retribution on the ACF.

They'd probably be thrilled.
 

"No, no. I am indeed not from the United States. I was born in Hokaido, in Japan, spent a great deal of my life there." Goro smiled at Jamie, offering a friendly demeanor in front of the merciless barrage of questions that were certainly forming within her mind. It was easier to have these types focus when they calmed down and let the anxiety and doubts plaguing their minds to settle, showing that they had all the time and all your interest often made them feel safe, like they could actually speak their mind rather than keep it under curtains. Managing that always fell onto the other party, and as seasones as he had been with the many different types of people, it didn't mean it was any easier.

He would at least try, however. It never hurt to be civil and polite.

Not that he had any time for further chatting, as soon as a fellow countryman of his announced hus extremely polite presence, and the almost late entree eased his way into the conversation by realizing he was not truly late, three more figures entered the small gathering area. Not applicants, however, one could tell by the attire of Mr. Cotta alone, but their actual interviewers.

The soldier stood in attention, almost like his captain had just come through the barracks to divulge new orders.

They had all been selected, thankfully, yet not necessarily for their preferred position. Mr. Cotta, Mr. Redd and Ms. Phillips made it abundantly clear they were to be given average personnel rights, be it equipment or a roof, but the interviews were the true test to see where any of them fit. Goro's heart skipped a beat or two. There were few things that truly got to him, nerves for an interview weren't one of them, but the concept of not getting a position out in the field? Being confined to a laboratory setting running experiments within the same walls day after day? The monotony of a sheltered routine terrified him.

Grounding the pilot, sometimes it could be a fate worse than death, especially when the answers he craved were not within the tip of a needle, but the depths of the world.

Mr. Cotta was the one who would be conducting his interview, and the pairing with Cammie certainly put his mind at ease, he knew he wouldn't be the only one with lots of questions, and there would probably be some answers he didn't even believe he could have wanted that Jamie would seek out regardless. For now, he decided to swallow his uneasiness, and just accompany the flow until second orders.
 
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The conversation had concluded - one might say unnaturally, with dear Pepper moving on to meet another newcomer's question, but what here ever was natural? No, one had to embrace the unexpected and thrive in the chaos. Speaking of -

The three who were to be seeing them stepped inside, and Hope's attention fell imminently and utterly on them. An armed man in front, completely encased in paneled armor in a way that seemed as uncomfortable as it was bland. A woman, simply styled, but with a suit that shouted louder than her quiet features would suggest. And another man, unkempt, dark circles under his eyes, dressed by far the worst out of anyone else in the room, outfit a mix of stains and frays. If she could smile, she would have.

"Hello -- hello -- hello, " she said, stepping forward and stooping her head in a greeting. She did not ask a question - she did not have any. Instead, she merely presented the wonton mug out to the tired-looking man like a block of gift gold for a king. "This suits you more -- than it does most. A tragedy."

And then, without explanation or context more, she folded all six hands, moving to stand demurely beside Hope in quiet anticipation.
 
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The entrance of the management team immediately drew Pepper’s attention from the young man without clothing. She looked them over in order of entrance. First, Agent Cotta, who she faintly recognized from her various deliveries, the same with Secretary Phillips– and then he walked in, and her breath caught in her chest for just a minute. She knew he was going to be here. She knew she was most likely being interviewed by him. But any time she saw Cody, she had the same reaction. Like violins were swelling to a crescendo in her chest, which was too tight for their music.

She closed her eyes for a moment, hoping no one would notice as she counted to three and took a breath. She focused her gaze anywhere else– the floor, everyone’s shoes, the backs of people’s heads– as she stepped forward a bit toward Cody. Dr. Redd, at least for this interview. She needed to show a degree of professionalism unless he told her otherwise.

She looked over the others and paused internally as she looked over at the guy who lacked clothes once more. Everyone else, aside from the redhead, had introduced themselves. Cammie was a girl’s name, which meant she was likely Cammie. That meant he must be Sig. No wonder they were going by the dorms first.

Unfortunately, her thoughts got in the way of her spatial awareness as she walked, and she tuned back in two steps away from walking right into Cody.

She slammed on the brakes and almost tipped forward into him as she blushed and looked up at him. “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry, Dr. Redd. I got lost in thought there.”

She stepped back away from him a pace or two and looked down, slightly embarrassed by her lack of awareness. It wasn’t the first time she had spaced out while walking in front of him, lost in thought as she normally became. Pepper often got stuck in her head, especially when trying to piece things together. He had been there the day that Kallie had asked her to solve a particular containment problem. He already knew this was common thinking behavior for her.

Still, she had done it in front of Secretary Phillips and Agent Cotta too. And that was by far more embarrassing as a preinterview behavior.
 


The Foundation was bottled chaos; Sig would have been dense to expect otherwise after being taken in by the organization himself. He had estimated himself readied for whatever weird and strange happenings he might stumble into during his service to his benefactors. Supernatural beings like werewolves had no place being flabbergasted by oddities.



Sig felt justified in the moment’s pause he took, however, in trying to figure out what exactly that was.



He heard the smartly dressed young woman reply to his immediate question upon entering, of course. He could hear everything; beating hearts, approaching footfalls, the soft and strangely reversed chink of the glass shards behind him slowly repairing themselves. Sig was relieved to know he hadn’t overslept, but six arms seemed to overwrite any expression of his gratitude he might have offered.



And then they arrived.



Agent Cotta was impressively stoic, molded to his role down to his very scent and a pillar of structure and organization in juxtaposition to the researchers. Perhaps it had been a consideration, a small slice of the Foundation pie put on display for its clean and defined layers.



“Researcher” was likely an incorrect label for the woman in the violet suit. A third class within the system, no doubt of the same ilk as the woman who had facilitated Sig’s retrieval. There was a power that hung from her shoulders like a mantle she had carefully chosen, comfortable and intangible to most but for the moment she wanted them to notice.



”She didn’t give us her name.” Sig noted under his breath as his eyes flicked to his designated interviewer.



Dr. Redd, whether moniker or a serendipitous surname, was certainly not impressive in the manner of the security officer or the lady boss, but he was definitively all researcher, and likely as highly informed as either of the others. For a brief moment Sig had caught his gaze before the group was addressed, and in that moment he felt himself being disassembled in the way that only keen intelligence seemed want to do. There was a hint of disappointment, though Sig wasn’t sure which of them it might have belonged to.



Another young woman seemed to spring at the opportunity to ask a question; the query incredibly grounded though she appeared as though she were ready for vacation rather than employment. It was moot point for Sig, though. He had already signed away those sorts of assurances. Something more interesting drew his attention away from whatever reply might have been given.



Someone’s heart had started pounding, fluttering from the moment the Foundation staff had entered. One might have counted that to nerves, tension held while waiting for that exact event and the dreaded interview to begin. Sig might have written it off as just that, if not for the scent. The owner of the heartbeat stepped forward, hastily and distractedly toward Dr. Redd until near collision. Sig inhaled deeply, and let the breath free as a sharp sigh. The primly dressed young woman must be Pepper, and the person Dr. Redd would be interviewing Sig alongside.



”This should be fun.” He wasn’t sure if proximal embarrassment could trigger another change, but he might actually have preferred it if his suspicions were correct.
 
The number of arms- and thus people- was increasing. This vexed Cammie.

She quickly consoled herself by reminding her they were separating for interviews and therefore she would be around less people. She took a deep breath, stood and approached her interview, extending a hand. "Dr. Krinkle, its...very nice to meet you."

Yes. Formality helped. Cammie could be polite. Even if Cotta intimidated her greatly. He was obviously dressed as a security agent for the Foundation, and that put her on edge. The last thing she needed was to be around people looking for threats or lies. The other man- Redd- would have been a more siutable choice. She wasn't a fighter, but at least she had a chance at decking him if it came to it.

It won't come to a fight, Cameron.

Her interview partner- the severe Japanese man- did little to ease her anxiety either. He looked far to military for comfort. Cammie might have preferred the doll. Or the tacky blonde. But no, like everything she had been told about the Foundation, nothing was going as planned. Or in any way that would be beneficial to her.

Cammie took a deep breath before she would start to shrink.

This was going to go great.
 
As Matsumoto stood there shocked by the imperial uniform the interviewers for the ACF came to greet us and introduce themselves. For whatever reason he was wearing his grandfathers old uniform. A symbol of the old order that led to the deaths of millions. He wondered if the Americans would see that or just the uniform? Matsumoto felt that he already knew the answer and that the interview was about to start meant for now he wouldn't get the chance to ask why he dared to wear it.

He moved away towards the room pointed out by the woman conducting his interview. He heard the question regarding the sanity of the people the foundation interviewed today. He had his own questions as well about the use of the word anomalies. That information sheet sent out the other day was a clear joke bizarrely implying the foundation had found gods and contained them. Also, the nature of their experiments if they could not explain them or their subjects. Science was Matsumoto's god and he would see everything understood.

Those that seemed like they would join him were the blond lady who asked the question Jamie and the Ranni cosplayer Eloise.
 
Hope smiled at Jamie, who asked the only – and most reasonable – question out of everyone here. They’d quickly glanced over the three management personnel, and while she couldn’t read their expression clearly, she knew some deliberation had been done about Cody especially. He was the least professional out of the three of them, and the wordplay of his shirt was exactly the kind of thing Hope would expect to draw a fey’s attention. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Matsumoto move in the direction she’d indicated for her office. That quickly drew her attention. Hope turned her head with a flourish of her hand to draw his attention.

“Matsumoto – or Mr. Takei, we’ll need to discuss your preference – please wait for everyone to be ready. For your own safety, you’ll be following me.” She turned her head back toward Jamie, still smiling. The look hadn’t wavered as she turned away.

She held up her hand, to reveal a slash across her index finger. It stung, sure, but the hands were some of the most obvious and accessible parts of her body. Unlike her mentor, who preferred his teeth, Hope had more… delicate methods. Slightly more tricky methods. There was value in making a show of it, after all, especially as Matsumodo didn’t seem to be taking this situation seriously. She held her hand so both he and Jamie – and everyone else, but they were the most important – could see the ruby drop of blood running down to her palm.

“As for the question: As the Foundation representative for the span of your interview, I give my word that your safety, autonomy, and sanity will be upheld for the duration of the interview, within the span and scope of my power; and should harm come to your body, mind, or spirit, I shall observe all protocols for compensation and recovery defined by the Foundation employee and management handbooks.”

When she finished, the blood started to smoke, curling upward in a red stream that dissipated into the air and left nothing behind, not even the cut itself. With her announcement done, she tuned back to her last applicant –

“Thank you, Eloise.”

Cody took the mug and looked down at it. It was a good distraction from the almost-naked Sig, at least. His fingers traced the rivulets her long fingers had left behind, and he smiled faintly at the Hocus Pocus, I Need To Focus inscription. Probably came from one of Hope’s people, then. They’d already discussed that Eloise technically wouldn’t be anyone’s person; she’d most likely be working with Guy downstairs until she’d gotten familiar with her role, but she was going with Hope for the first part of her interview for Mr. Takei’s sake more than anything.

He let her join her group, and turned just in time to see Pepper almost stumble into him. He hadn’t even noticed her coming – but Isaac had, and he’d stepped forward to put an arm between them. Cody’s smile became less faint and more real. It went to show how seriously Isaac took his security position when even harmless accidents didn’t go overlooked.

“Careful there, Seven-Eight-Two-Three,” Cotta chided, “everyone needs to keep their chin up from here. Secretary Phillips is right. You will all need to observe safety protocols from here out, the first of which is to be aware of your surroundings. Distraction can be more dangerous than anything else in our laboratory environment, especially here at L-Forty-Nine.”

“Alright, ease off, Isaac.” Cody put his hand on his co-manager’s shoulder, and Isaac backed away a few steps to turn back toward his own candidates. “Pepper, he’s right, but don’t sweat it. And, Sig, if you’re going to make comments on management, wait until we’re not standing right here. Secretary Phillips is right to be careful with her name. It’s under contract right now.”

He looked back up at the young werewolf – well, ‘young’ might be a matter of perspective, given it was ACF-406 who’d called him a ‘pup’. Castor was benevolent, but, well… he was also old as civilization. It didn’t exactly encourage trust in his perspective, especially given he was 25 himself.

And he was staring, and not researcher-staring. He switched his brain to researcher brain, and focused on the anatomy. He’d save the details for their physical – which he’d be leading – but initial skim determined that the subject was healthy, in good if not peak physical condition. Ignoring the apron, he seemed to be well cared for; the lack of weathering probably meant he’d been sheltered, for a werewolf. Or his regeneration factor was better than the elements. A more intensive set of tests would determine the answer, and given his previous location hadn’t sent over results, Cody was probably going to be the first one to do any scans.

He let up on his stare with a soft sigh, then gestured for his pair to follow him. “Come on, then. Since we’ll have to take a detour, we’ll head out first. Just Pepper and Sig.”

With the Pepper situation in Cody’s hands, Isaac turned to the remaining two candidates: Goro and Dr. Krinkle. He looked over at the mercenary soldier. His position at attention matched up with the description from Secretary Phillips’ research. He raised a hand with the order, “At ease, Goro. No matter what position you end up in, you should think of us more as a hardcore security agency, not an army. I’m your manager, not your superior officer.”

Then he saw Cammie move in the corner of his eye, and he was already turning toward her. While he might be suspicious of her motives, she was now his responsibility. That was why he relaxed his stance (though not his awareness) when he saw how tense she’d gotten, and took her hand firmly without imprisoning it in his glove.

“It’s a pleasure to bring you on, Dr. Krinkle. A PhD in genetic biochemistry is impressive. I apologize that I don’t know much on the topic, but maybe you could address it with Dr. Redd sometime. I think he’d appreciate it.”

The youth in his face would probably show as the hardness faded a little. He was the youngest of the three managers, after all. When they left he’d be back to business until they reached his office, but for now in the atrium, with its healing windows, they were safe enough. He never let his guard down, not really, but he could go ‘at ease’ himself if he was giving out that order. He didn’t quite smile, but he didn’t look nearly as severe, at least.
 
Oooh, busted. Jamie noted the sanction towards the guy who secretly had to have something wrong with him - she still wanted to know what it was - maybe it was that he was bad at following directions before they were given? Except no, that didn't make sense-

Anyway, it seemed like this was one of those no walking around unescorted sorts of buildings. That was unfortunate. It wasn't that Jamie really wanted to go poking around where she wasn't supposed to be, it was just that people tended to assume that she was going to do it, and then it would be all "Someone make sure Jamie doesn't wander off" when she hadn't even done anything or planned to do anything.

Well, maybe this guy - Matsumoto - could be the designated wander-offer and Jamie could escape it for a little while. Hope - or, 'Ms Phillips' if one wanted to be formal, which Jamie pretty much never did and often had to - moved her hand a little bit, attracting Jamie's attention back to her like a squirrel on the pathway.

The blood was.

Yep.

Sure was.

Jamie stared at it for a minute, caught between oh hey she knows what she's doing? - because she definitely knew what she was doing - and, of course bleh - because bleh. At least it went poof after the incantation. That was a neat little touch, and Jamie knew enough about bindings to figure that one would take. She gave a nod and a smile, with a quiet "I appreciate it."

Eloise had rejoined their little group after having divested herself of the errant mug. She'd given it to Dr. Redd, which seemed fair, given his shirt. Did he have a shirt with the same phrase as the mug? Did he have a mug with the same phrase as his shirt? If he did, did he ever wear-and-carry them together for coordination or did he specifically avoid doing that so as not to overdo the same joke? Did he have any where the shirt was half the joke and the other half was on the mug? Was Pepper blushing at him?

She was totally blushing at him. Ha! Cute. Jamie made a mental note to check in on that later, if she didn't get distracted and forget about it for six weeks, by which point they'd have been dating for five. That was the way it usually went, anyway. Maybe she should just focus on the job interview. The one they were having right now, actually.

"So where'd you learn the-?" Jamie raised a hand, miming Hope's own gesture, except without the blood because that was bleh. A+ for effectiveness, though. Or O-negative, or whatever. That didn't have the same ring to it. "Is that a standard here or only above certain levels or just in archives - or research?"

Except that maybe you'd want to know that sort of thing for security too, so maybe it was a by level thing anyway? She glanced briefly over at Security Isaac, who had almost seemed to have relaxed for half a second there, good for him. Was he more nervous than they were? The armor could hide a lot of things, right? "Also, does it matter what kind of soup or is it just a dry clean only situation all the time?"
 
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