Welcome to Gaia! ::

Well, Horace thought, apparently he was getting lucky again. Although in this case, 'lucky' was subjective. There were two different types of lucky in this scenario. One was Horace getting some sleep while on duty, his body too weary to stay awake. He made a good show of alertness elsewhere, but the fact of the matter was that he hadn't had a good night's sleep in a while. And he probably wouldn't. Peyton had suggested sleeping aids, but... Horace shook his head. The other type of lucky was now. It was a beeping alarm, a new person, a host of things to occupy himself with. Lucky was getting to find a pod and tell someone all about the thing that would live in their head.

The alarm was annoying, but luckily Horace didn't mind the rest.

He jogged leisurely towards the pod in question. It was far, far from the monitoring room - mostly likely someone newer than the older pods near the front. Horace was glad he never worked on dumping day; all that wasted potential was depressing on several different levels: the waste, the death, the sinking suspicion that surely one of those people could have been better.. Turning down the correct row, he tugged down his shirt. He remembered the clipboard this time, too. Fresh from some lessons with a very, very patient Moon in the infirmary (these were brief, basic things - Horace was not very good at first aid, he was more liable to puncture an artery while treating a scraped knee than actually bandage it), Horace was ready to try his knowledge out on a person fresh from a pod. Taking their vitals for their own good... or something.

"Hello - anyone alive?" The clipboard was tucked under his arm, and he peered in at sleeping faces as he went.

Horace walked calmly down the aisle. He'd run for the last one and ended up so flustered he hadn't mentioned anything important at all! "Ahah, there you are. Don't try to move too much, zombie boy." Horace held his hands out a little bit, just in case this one took a nosedive. One of the benefits of a hunter's increased strength meant he wouldn't be likely to drop someone collapsing into his arms. That sounded vaguely romantic, but it looked like no one was collapsing any time soon. Alas. Just because he'd given up on certain aspects connected to romance didn't mean Horace no longer appreciated cliched romance; he still did, albeit in smaller doses.

He looked over at the open pod, eyes squinting. "Okay, Mi-kuh? Misha? How's it pronounced? Welcome to Deus. How're you feeling?" He moved the clipboard out from under his arm and made a note on it.

Horace's face fell for a second. "About that human thing.... uh, not quite. But!" He decided the whole not human thing could come later. "You probably spoke to some guy in a white coat about joining up. Don't worry if you don't remember - it'd come back to you. Don't move."

He brought up a tiny flashlight and flicked it on into Micah's eyes, checking for dilation.

"No s**t. Where'd you think I'd shine it - your d**k? Minor health check up; making sure you're in working order." And, instead of apologizing, Horace just smiled angelically, because that was the kind of mood he was in this week.

He looked over Micah thoughtfully for a moment. "As for here, you probably signed up, and that means you get to fight monsters, things that go bump in the night, sometimes zombies. You get a weapon, too. Pulse check." Horace leaned in towards Micah, fingers outstretched to the other man's neck.

There was a moment where Horace considered pushing it. Because he could and because that growl made him want to. Alas, he could not do that to a new hunter whose head was likely already spinning. So he just muttered out a "Hmph, stingy," instead. His fingers were cold, but he dutifully counted Micah's pulse while looking at his watch... that was what he was supposed to do, right? Despite his requests, the moon had only verbally explained things. Horace could barely remember a thing she'd said. In the end, he wrote down a random number that looked right.

"Weapon? Whatever kind picks you. That's the next step - you wander down into a cave, pick one, it talks to you, and come back up one of us. Then you'll head to your room and get your coat and stuff." Horace scribbled down some notes on a pamphlet before handing it to Micah. "You feel good enough to walk?"

"There would be very little point in ******** around with you, Micah. Er, at least not now. C'mon." Horace began walking, assuming that Micah was following. After a moment, he craned his head around. "Basically, everyone's weapon kinda lives inside your head - it's weird, but you'll get used to it. That's the place up there." He pointed, then bent to scribble something on his clipboard. The entrance to the cove loomed up in front of them, startlingly organic looking in the sterilized environment of the pods.

"Anyway, you go down a ton of stairs. Then you come back up, and take a right. You'll be able to find your room after. Here-" he held out a piece of paper with his name, twitter handle, and phone number. "-you can come find me if you need anything."