Welcome to Gaia! ::

Arriving early had several advantages: it made one look dutiful; it presented him with full tables of food that diluted his statistical chances of ingesting, through mistake or coercion, an Edith Special; it prevented having to scuttle in under a sudden ocean of eyes; and it allowed him to quietly drop a folder off on Edith's table with a look that silently begged her: please let this be enough.

And in it: a second draft of his previous ideas, brought further in line with what she thought was feasible and fell under the division's role, and a concise, bulleted checklist for new wake-ups, presented both as a clipboard-ready run-down and in a pamphlet-form digest that, a footnote acknowledged, was Camille Ryland's contribution. A brief aside about clearing a space for possible small-group orientations, with a suggested semi-script, semi-outline revisiting the basics touched on in the other materials and expanded into a tidy prospective itinerary: fifteen minutes for a run-down on shield basics from a Life or Moon hunter; fifteen minutes for an overview on most common and most recent battlefield threats from a Sun hunter; a couple of other notes. The result was far from impersonal and traumatic: it packed into roughly an hour everything he'd been desperate to convey from the beginning, and then left a half hour at the end for updates on recent Island goings-on and what he had marked Q+A despite his instinctive hatred for the term.

Everything stressed, carefully, that this was safety education. Suspect passages were carefully phrased, meticulously kneaded into a shape more in keeping with Moon's defensive niche. Suggested segments of the orientations that were relevant to Moon division (shields, teamwork, a highlight of the physical layout of the Island marking safe areas and those requiring rebuilding) were given special attention.

A note at the close suggested that if anything looked promising he would be glad to scrounge up divisional prospects for the presentations, hunters of both substance and willingness (he'd had names, originally, now excised due to an excess of caution), and that, further, if she had suggestions for likely candidates he'd be glad to hear them.

Dakota sat down, but didn't look quite as peachy. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to be here but as it was mandatory....

Zascha had made his way over to the table of food right out the gate. Though some of it looked...questionable. He wasn't too sure if he wanted a stomach ache or not even if he was kind of hungry. This meeting was cutting in on some very valuable snacking time.

Very valuable.

Not like he had much to say currently. He was still kind of getting his bearings. Perhaps he should start focusing more. Well, this would give him the opportunity to see how it was done at least.

Dylon had several ideas of what he wanted to pursue as a Moon Hunters. However....

He lovingly ate a handful of Edith's strange sweets that seemed to be siracha filled olives dipped in chocolate and covered in cornflakes. He'd assumed they were chocolate almonds until the first bite. Not to seem rude, he kept chewing. Then the spice hit. His chewing stopped, his face reddened. He swallowed it painfully and took a seat.

He nursed a tummy ache as he rested his head against the make-shift table. Maybe he'd speak up a little bit later when he didn't feel like his stomach was about to explode.

After so many meetings, so many encounters of the moon kind, you just sort of got used to and accepted the fact that part of your role was to eat whatever the hell it was that Edith put in front of you. She never made you eat anything, but the pressure was there. Plus it was a twisted show of solidarity. He'd suffer with everyone else.

Which is just how Marcus ended up with a small handful of Edith's creations. The trick was to pretend to chew or chew as few times as needed before swallowing. Keep it far from your tongue as possible. And water. God bless water.

If anything it was a few less olives for everyone else.

After his quick culinary dive into what was just 'moon division', Marcus pulled out two folders one very clearly labeled 'Project Aquarium'.

"First off, I'd like to personally apologize for wasted resources used for the aquarium project-experiment. Whatever blast to out the normal windows, also took them out." He flipped open the file before handing it off to Edith. It listed the options they had, as well as their cost and now- estimated 'life expectancy'. "Depending, we might be able to get the same material they use in spacecraft, or portals installed in place of the windows. I'm waiting to hear back from a life tech on the possibilities of both those. Because of that I don't have any clear projections of cost or time, so for now, I'd like the project to be put on hold rather than scrapped until we have the data to make a decision on where to go."

The second file handed off.
"The moon van is currently as you know in full operations; nothing has changed and if anything all it needs is just the regular checks and tanks filled. I have it currently stationed outside of Guadalajara, Mexico. It does beg the notion that it might be useful for us to invest in an purpose vehicle for off road missions or remote locations. However that would be a more general moon division vehicle, rather than the van's purpose which is primarily for training and urban locations." He paused.
"The ice cream with week is durian with cilantro. Next week it's curry with wine sauce."

The legacy of Julie would live on.

Dakota sigheeeeeeeeeeeeed long time at Edith's watching you motions. He supposed he better just get it over with.

"Last meeting, you gave me resources to start training search and rescue teams." Dakota got up, two separate folders in his hands. "I've successfully trained four different sets of teams as well as over ten hunters from other divisions." he dropped one folder on her table with the hunters. "Marcus has been trained as well. We've got a fair amount of hunters for search and rescue team as well as some more trained on moon basics."

Then he fidgetted with the second laying it down.

"This is my request to transfer to the mist division...." He said MUCH quieter.

Dylon's head turned slightly from it's resting place to offer Abbi as charming a smile as he could must. It was shaky at best. "Heeeeey pretty lady~....urp..." He sunk further down again.

After some time, there was a wave of reprieve from stomach pains. He chose to take advantage of this by finally getting himself composed enough to offer his two cents.

"I noticed.. ugh... the trainee pool is in.. less than ideal conditions." Swimming was his passion, and his preferred body training of choice. "Swimming is an ideal way of working out every muscle in the body.. I'd like permission to take on a restoration of... urp... the pool for trainees..."

Goddamn those funky olives. God damn them to Hell.