Another meeting, one of the few things to not have changed along with the world. this time it had been a usual meeting, detailing shift rotations, the maintenance of the international force, and what reports they had gotten in over the radio detailing the situation of the various other fronts. It had been long, somewhat boring, and now it was time to get to the actual work.

Roche exited the meeting room, tugging at his jacket as he moved into the streets of Calais. So much different, yet there was still that sameness that had been present when he last visited the city, before the invasion, before the world was cast to the brink of darkness. So much missing from the skyline, including the Cathedral of Notre Dame, which had been demolished when it was realized that these things were coming from religious buildings, as if it's destruction would prevent whatever had happened. Still, it seemed to have worked in that regard, though if there'd been anyone around to attend mass was not his place to say. He himself had abandoned the faith, preferring to place his trust in the ingenuity and resources of humanity to weather this night. God had abandoned them, so they only had each other to draw on. the people went about their business, and it was only the overbearing presence of swords and bows that would hint you as to the war raging across the globe.

It was the dying of the lights that changed things, and when they did not come back it sent the passerbyers and himself into a frenzy of motion, people moving to get to secure locations while he headed for the armory to get his gear and then link up with his squad. The Beats were coming then, time for another fight. He quickly made his way to his locker, changing the leather jacket for the official white that got a slightly disapproving look from him before it put it on. Oh, the symbolism was all well and fine, but it was a pain in the ass to keep the dang thing clean. Which was why he much preferred his old uniform, it hid the stains better.

Properly dressed, he grabbed his weapons. A combat knife first, well taken care of for when you had no other choice, then a hand-and-a-half sword, for the various methods of fighting, for the power of a two handed chop, but could be used with a single hand as well. Well taken care of, and sharp as nails at that. Then the med kit, and the other things he needed, and he was good to go. After making sure he had everything, he headed out to the marshaling ground, to meet up with his squad and get ready to fight some hell beasts.