I was born an original sinner...
{{OOC: This should happen during the day, but... I'll most likely be asleep then.}}
Most Riftcomers don't arrive with luggage, but then, most Riftcomers didn't happen to be leaving home -- not home, he'd correct himself, a ship he happened to travel on for a spell -- when they stumbled through. So when Shepherd Book walks through the Rift, he's pulling a neat bundle of boxes behind him.
He doesn't see at first, squinting in the flood of sunlight pouring through the open hatch, so when he takes a few steps out and lets his eyes adjust, the realization hits him hard.
This isn't anywhere on Haven he recognizes. This is a park. Grant Park, to be specific, though the name wouldn't mean anything to him. He turns to look for Serenity, and maybe have a word with the Captain about odd places to drop him off, but where there should've been a Firefly-class ship, there's just a hole in the world, shrinking as he looks, a purple and blue kaleidoscope that winks into nothingness a moment later.
Book's seen a lot in his day, but there are still things that can surprise him. Holes in space are most definitely one of those. His hand almost goes for a weapon he no longer wears, old habits kicking in, but he reminds himself that he's a man of God now. There's no need for violence -- he left that behind when he joined the abbey, and again when he left Serenity.
He'll just stay calm and get the lay of the land. This might not be Haven, but it's obviously an occupied world, and all he has to do is get to the docks and book passage on a ship that'll take him where he needs to go. He firmly ignores the small voice warning him that the 'verse isn't playing by rules he knows anymore, and that this place might not even have spacedocks. There's no point in borrowing trouble.
So there's a rather grandfatherly (if confused-looking) man in Grant Park, dressed like a minister of some sort, rolling his worldly possessions along behind him and muttering to himself in a bastard mix of English and Chinese.
There's also a distinct rustling in the bushes that seems to pace him, though he's pretending not to be aware of it just yet. It could just be a squirrel or something. Could be something else.
Most Riftcomers don't arrive with luggage, but then, most Riftcomers didn't happen to be leaving home -- not home, he'd correct himself, a ship he happened to travel on for a spell -- when they stumbled through. So when Shepherd Book walks through the Rift, he's pulling a neat bundle of boxes behind him.
He doesn't see at first, squinting in the flood of sunlight pouring through the open hatch, so when he takes a few steps out and lets his eyes adjust, the realization hits him hard.
This isn't anywhere on Haven he recognizes. This is a park. Grant Park, to be specific, though the name wouldn't mean anything to him. He turns to look for Serenity, and maybe have a word with the Captain about odd places to drop him off, but where there should've been a Firefly-class ship, there's just a hole in the world, shrinking as he looks, a purple and blue kaleidoscope that winks into nothingness a moment later.
Book's seen a lot in his day, but there are still things that can surprise him. Holes in space are most definitely one of those. His hand almost goes for a weapon he no longer wears, old habits kicking in, but he reminds himself that he's a man of God now. There's no need for violence -- he left that behind when he joined the abbey, and again when he left Serenity.
He'll just stay calm and get the lay of the land. This might not be Haven, but it's obviously an occupied world, and all he has to do is get to the docks and book passage on a ship that'll take him where he needs to go. He firmly ignores the small voice warning him that the 'verse isn't playing by rules he knows anymore, and that this place might not even have spacedocks. There's no point in borrowing trouble.
So there's a rather grandfatherly (if confused-looking) man in Grant Park, dressed like a minister of some sort, rolling his worldly possessions along behind him and muttering to himself in a bastard mix of English and Chinese.
There's also a distinct rustling in the bushes that seems to pace him, though he's pretending not to be aware of it just yet. It could just be a squirrel or something. Could be something else.