Javert has been walking ever since he learned his universe no longer exists. Slow, steady steps carry him around the city, past Notre Dame, past the Precinct. The careful, measured policeman's beat helps him to think.

His world was gone. He couldn't quite wrap his head around that. His entire world. France was gone. Well, he'd never truly liked France. He had served France, yes, a royalist to the core. France had been his territory, but he felt no particular affection for it. Paris was gone. Well, that was unfortunate. Paris had become his city, and he was a possessive man. But he was dead. He had already resigned himself to these losses.

Perhaps it all was a lie, then, and perhaps this was some twisted form of afterlife. Punishment, maybe, for never being a fully and truly devout man.

His feet came to rest at the Sensoriums. He looked inside, into the filthy streets of his Paris, a rat scuttling one way and some young gamin scuttling another. In this Paris lurked Patron-Minette, every dandy around the corner was Montparnesse. This Paris was home, full of danger and purpose.

He passed it by to stand outside the Sensoriums. Now was the time to decide; would he dwell on what had been, or would he accept his duties here?

He was almost open to speaking his mind; he would at least perhaps offer more conversation to passers-by than his usual stony silence.

The Chief's got the sensoriums up with a shooting range. It's not the one he's called up in the past, this is an outdoor range. There are several different target distances, including the long, long rifle lines for things with considerable scope to them, at the end of the range are some somewhat chewed out hills deep enough to catch most impacts. There's plenty of open space off to one side with some practice dummies for melee training, and plenty of open space in general. It's relatively sunny and the air is fresh, but the weather's an after thought. They needed a range. Chief called one up.

They all have a lot of work cut out for them.

The Chief is in full armor, doing a little quick rifle maintenance before anybody shows up. It's holographic, but it serves his purpose for now.

[OOC: This is a FULLY OPEN post. Subthread all you want. Tag each other, teach each other, ask questions, branch off. It's like a big social thread with guns!]

([Also OOC:] If you need to talk to the Chief, just warning you that I'm a bit swamped right now. I'll get back to you but it'll be a slow process. @_@)

The ship was a big place for the little gamin, and even after being here for quite some time, he still hadn’t seen all of it. He finally decided to take it in parts, on corridor one day, another the next, find all the holes, nooks and crannies and then make sure he kept them in his mind. It might not have been Paris, but for now, it was his home.

He walked along, his hat pulled tight around his ears, humming a made-up tune about eggs and women (of less than proper profession). Eventually he would memorize the entire ship’s floor plan, even if that day wasn’t going to be today.

Meet n' Greet, smell my feet, gimme something good to eat! Unfortunately, the newbie meet and greet takes place the same time the command staff is congregating, so they might be a little late to the party.

But the crew is there to welcome the newcomers and explain their situation. At the end of the milling and spilling about, the command staff is going to start a general meeting to apprise everyone of their situation and discuss their next course of action:

Getting off the damn ship.

Messages pushed out on the omnicom network had told everybody interested in Meluly's physics class to meet in the Sensoriums today. A little sign set up just inside the open door of one of the pods—leading to a featureless grassy field with a bright blue sky—indeed confirm that instruction.

But the very interesting thing is that Luly isn't here. Oh, the woman has the same black skin and her own array of different tattoo patterns... but she's obviously a different person. Mid-twenties, maybe—curvier than Luly is, less athletic. Her hair is in its natural grey-black, pulled back into a braid, and she's wearing a sedate outfit with a modest fuzzy grey sweater and green pleated skirt.

Behind her is what looks suspiciously like a full set of model rockets, set up and ready to launch.

"Hello, everyone!" she says, clapping her hands together, once it seems like all or most of the students are assembled.

In some ways fainting had been a blessing to Chaucer. Medically, it was nothing but a nightmare, but he hadn't had to deal with the doctors or healers, or whoever had patched him up in the end. Whoever it was had done a brilliant job; Geoff had been terrified that he'd lose his arm at the very least, probably die. Instead he'd woken up to a splint and some heavy sort of wrapping. He couldn't move his arm, but it wasn't missing. A few minutes of checking it over had passed before he'd even noticed the odd pulling in his side and noticed the bandages there.

The relative lack of pain was a marvel in itself.

He needed to find out who had helped him, thank them, eventually. When he got out of the medbay. For now he was propped up slightly in his bed, struggling with the stylus for his comm. Left-handed writing was ridiculously difficult, made even more awkward by the unfamiliarity of the surface, but it was something to do. A way to write Philippa, one he could transcribe into legibility later.

After being released from stasis, having the slime removed from their bodies and clothed in the creepy, pulsing leaf-suit that everyone wore, and being taken to the Weapons & Possessions lockers to collect their belongings, the new arrivals would find themselves standing in the Observation Deck. Round windows lined the fleshy walls, revealing the bright display of lights that was inter-dimensional travel. They would also discover that there were people--members of the command staff and crew that had woken earlier--waiting for them.

[ooc: Newbie Helpers List | Instructions: Post your character with one post establishing them as being podpopped. If you would like to play out them talking to the AI, please send an email to the mods making the request--we do this only by request. Then move onto the big Newbie Meeting. Once your character has gotten the rundown from the old crew, you may start posting entrance posts and freely tagging.]


||Pod Release Protocols Initating|| Stacy's familiar voice sounds out to all the podmates through the ship.

In the Pod Caverns, there are the sounds of: Pop. Pop pop pop. Poppuhpoppoppop. KASCHUNKhiiiiiiiissssss.

There is condensation and mist spraying out from cracks in the pods, as the people inside slide out onto the floors, covered in slime.

--

( There was nothing... )