Welcome to Gaia! ::

The redhead stared blankly at Justin a moment before whipping her head to the side and gesturing toward a swarthy looking Life Hunter that was distinctly out of shape and unhappy to be there. They exchange a few brief words before she nods at him and then shoos him back off the stage.

"You can be a GM if you reach level three and master a job skill." She says it likes she's repeating something that only vaguely makes sense. "There's honey packets in the mess hall, just wait 'til dinner. You want anything fancier you'll have to make it worth my while, I'm not a ********' charity. Anybody else? Okay, moving on."

The slide changes to another map, this one with a great more utility, showing the camp, various observation outposts in the forest, and patrol zones. There's also a dashed red section: FEAR begins.

"This area's been getting popular, the larger it gets the more people are either drawn to it or..." her mouth twists, "...they've heard things and are out for a thrill. Maybe they're even investigating the ********' phenomena." A roll of the eyes. "The Breach gives out low level FEAR that intensifies the further you go in. For a regular a** human that means palpitations, cold sweats, all sorts of spooky vitals that some sorts like. Hallucinations are pretty common, and people who leave get to tell all their little facebook followers all about it the experience. part of our job is making sure they actually leave. Too much FEAR can kill a human easy as anything, prolonged exposure can do it too. If you haven't had a lot of interactions with civilians as a Reaper yet, this'll be a good opportunity."

The slide changes, two arrows on a tree, one in glowing blue, the other in orange. "These are all over this forest, regular humans can't see them. blue arrows will lead you back to camp. Orange arrows go to the Cabin and I'll get to that in a bit. If a civ sees those arrows, get their information. See if maybe they've seen other things most folks can't. You might get some stubborn or nosy sorts, do your best to get them out quick without being harmed. if anyone's seriously injured, FEAR sick, or they find out something they need to forget, bring them back here. Any questions?"

The petite Death felt America somehow changed, but it was hard to tell the reasons. May it be she's talking about a serious thing, may it be other reasons. Anyway, once the redhead talked, Shu brought herself back from pondering own matter. What they were asked to do looked simple, compared to what they had in external missions.

While she tried her best to follow and listed out important points in the mind, she was interrupted by someone loud. The blonde hunter looked vaguely familiar, dated back to the Potato - the Sahara mission that she got burned and how she met Edgar. "Errr - Job skill?" Shu wasn't sure what he meant, it took a bit to reply him. "...You mean specialization, right? I'm still thinking about it, you can apply for it when you're a full hun - I mean reaper."

Shu paused, "I'm currently at intermediate level and have no idea what I want to do yet. Though I kinda enjoy the task as a translator." The petite Death added and asked him the same question back. "How about you?" She made sure her voice won't distribe America's briefing session.

Rodney had been okay, the house seemed too large and too quiet, but was as calm and beautiful as always. He had more time to work in his studio, able to see snow falling out the window onto the island, and welcome Lawrence warmly when they were both home.

He didn't have a ring, but he had gotten a tattoo, a simple decorative band.

Christmas was one of his favorite seasons. Now that the New Year ended, he'd volunteered for what sounded like a quiet mission. In spite of being there so long, he was still a trainee, with little battle experience and no promotions in sight. Still, he was hopeful there would be something he could learn.

He stood quietly near Lawrence, sketchbook open as he made some notes from the presentation. Helping steer people clear of danger in the meantime sounded alright with him.

"Is there anything?" He asked softly, "in the woods?" Apart from the Breach itself.

Malkam was begrudging. Camp sounded stupid. He had never been to a not stupid camp. The only good thing about camp was getting together with girls, and everyone on this stupid island was gay.

Lawrence was there (the worst) with his exes (the super worst) and new...soon-to-be-cheated-on whatever (the absolute worst).

The only thing that was okay was that Mik was there, and...

Was their instructor actually a cute girl? One who wasn't a guy, or a million years old? He rubbed his eyes and looked around, making sure he wasn't seeing things.

I don't like her! Jorm piped up huffily.

What? What's not to like? She's a cute girl, who's not creepy! Maybe the only one in a million miles.

Jorm made an upset girl noise that Malkam was afraid to interpret.

What? he asked again, but didn't get an answer.

Lawrence was still cold but with Rodney nearby the temptation was too much, even while the other man took notes in his sketchbook the shorter man insinuated himself alongside him, trying to leech some warmth from him.

It was only when Harrison caught his eye he looked scandalised.

"Shorts? Really?" he asked.

"Yes," he answered more quickly than he intended. One of Lexington's feet tapped restlessly against the ground, dislodging flecks of pine cone and needles. "And it's not like I had time to go stock up on cartons. Everywhere else in ze world has no problem getting cartons. Why should zis place be any different…" His sharp gaze reached for Zeke repeatedly, waiting for that offer. Waiting for something - even an insult. Probably an insult at this rate.

Lex waited not a moment longer when Zeke finally offered the cigarette. He snatched the half-finished cigarette and pressed it to lips, taking a deep drag. Nicotine tasted terribly necessary about now. "You'd sink zey would consider nicotine patches or somesing. Even hospitals haf' zat kind of courtesy." And Lex wasn't planning on returning the newly-poached cigarette, either - not until he finished it. Perhaps he could make a few friends for the cigarette bumming trade to get through this apparent dry spell. Slowly he stretched his legs out when he could trust them not to twitch against the dearth of nicotine. If nothing else, the denial of further cigarettes proved that he needed to cut down.

He found no reason to pester Zeke further, however, as the individuals at the front finally rectified their tech problems. The statements issued spoke of knowledge he barely acquired, and the rest proved entirely new to him. Lex recognized some of the locations on mention, but knew nothing of their importance - from all he could gather, intersecting worlds meant more monsters. "So only hunters can see zose arrows?" He asked to his uninvited companion. "And why should we care about idiots getting in ze way? If zey choose to come in here, isn't it zeir own business? Or - let me guess - fighting is only half ze job. Ze ozzer half is protecting idiots from zemselfs, yes?" Lexington set his jaw. He seldom got on with most people, and now he was expected to shepherd them away from their own stupidity without so much as an explanation why.

"Can we at least cite government experiments? I hear zat's a popular excuse in America." He took another drag.

"Creatures aren't going to give a s**t." Lex shifted crosslegged and finished the cigarette woefully quickly. Reaching back, he stubbed the rest of it out on a nearby pine. "So I guess zat just leaves us and ze idiots." Of which he still counted himself.

"Sounds like ze answer is no." Lexington clicked his tongue. "I'm not feeling very social today." A distinct lack of normal nicotine intake left him high-strung with internal anxieties that he dared not express around the other hunter. Instead, he simply slouched forward with hands wrung atop his crossed legs and waited for the rest of the population here to ask the necessaries.

"So let me make sure I understand her properly. We're futzing around here because ze barrier between worlds is sinner or somesing, and we're pretending to be some part of ze enemy." If Zeke was going to stick around, then he could act as his Google Translate for all the nomenclature with which he was impressively unfamiliar.

Catching the name America, the redhead at the stage focused in on Zeke and the fresh face sitting near him. Eventually she asked, gesturing to the two, "Is this personal chatter or do you guys have some questions? Unlike a certain leader, I won't maim you for asking."