Welcome to Gaia! ::

Training exercises were possibly Julian’s favorite component to his job- especially now that they were few and far between. Growing up he had always been an imaginative boy, creating stories in his mind and fighting an unseen enemy. He felt more at home on the ocean anyway. Now came the boring portion to Afron’s Naval Company’s return home. No more battles, no more dreams of pirates and giddy tactical planning. Now it was back to work, business as usual. The shiphands were tired, the energy and excitement from the past week no longer flowing through the veins, and moral was low. Now to practice inventory, after action reports, sick call rosters and everything clerical involved in mission extraction.

Julian himself sat at his desk, candlelight bouncing off the cabin walls and mug of water, chin in hand as he haphazardly scrawled the final report to send off to shore. He was a good captain and an even better admiral. He was organized, headstrong and steady even in a moment of pure chaos but still he was childish at heart. Out of the five ships that left port on their exercise, he’d only had three final reports from them. Two of the other vessels were now effectively on his ‘s**t list’. He’d be sure to privately pulverize them for tardiness. Especially when his final report was to be handed in at noon.

“They’re nothing but children, sometimes,” Julian whined, hypocritically one might say, as he replaced the pen in it’s holder and scrubbed his fingers through his curls, tugging at his hair before giving Stafford, the albatross, a long and suffering look.

“Do you poop? If you do, please excrete on all of them…” He smiled scrubbing the scruff on his chin and rolled his eyes before pulling out more paper, “Oh yes… By the way, could you deliver my written tongue lashings to them if and when we find out they’ve neglected their deadlines? Uueehhhh….”

He paused going over the two reports he HAD received, “We’re missing Captain Janus’ and … Mathise.”

“You’d do no such thing to my firmly polished deck,” Absently spoken as he twisted his neck from side to side, feeling the tendons realign.

Julian drew a breath, quirking a brow at the winged stunted. A grin fell easily on his lips and he managed to roll his eyes, looking back to the paper, holding back a chuckle because speaking of his officers in such a manner was no way to get anything done or reign as a strong commander. Yet there was truth in what Stafford said and, as his prized and most trusted messenger, the albatross was able to get away with a lot more mirth and sass than any of the other stunteds nesting below deck. He took the feather stem of his pen- cut of it’s barbes and vane- and proded it at Stafford, trying his best to administer a warning face but once again cracking into a smile. He was tired, the entire field exercise was over and why not let loose but a tiny bit. Especially in the confines of his cabin. He cleared his throat and sat up proper- too proper. His back was painfully stiff, almost rearing back as he looked down his nose and wrote with a striaght arm- mocking of a courts marshall. He read aloud as he scrawled on the parchment.

”Captain Mathise,

Get your s**t in line and report back WITH Stafford- He will wait and return with your full account. Should you ask him to return later once you have written the report he has my full permission to claw one eye from the socket—“

He looked to Stafford with a very grave expression, “Don’t actually do such a thing. Marr the cheek if you must…”

He wrote a similar note to Janus on a separate piece of paper- tying them both tightly coiled with a bit of twine. He then wrote a J and M on the respective letters before sliding both tubes of paper over to the stunded, cheek resting on his palm.

“Reassignment rumors? Dear lords and ladies surely you’ve heard about it,” Julian scrunched his nose, “There’s squabbling above and squabbling below. It looks like they’ll be promoting a new fleet commander, Stafford. I’m climbing my fathers cloak.”

This wasn’t something he was against. Julian had been anticipating a promotion to Afron staff positions for a while now. The one problem would be he would no longer be forward on the vessels. Once the fleet landed back on Afron soil- that would surely be the last time he steps onto a ship that has intentions of completing a mission out at sea. He’d grown accustomed to months out at sea, most of his life had been stationed on a boat. The rocking was a familiar feeling, soothing, comforting and a constant. He gave Stafford a glance before standing from his chair. He could feel the ebb and flow of the waves beneath the ship, the structure moving under him, carrying him. Land was so static and boring.

“I am moving somewhere in staff but I don’t know where my skills would be best suited. Which shop. Surely not supply- thank heavens,” Julian was never made to be a logistics officer and his strengths in tactical movement and operations were well known to all colleagues and staff. His path was still ambiguous- nothing was keeping him from moving over to Security operations or personnel, “Where do you think I’m best suited?”

Julian's half smirk and recessed eyes, bruised from his need for sleep, slowly slackened as Stafford barbed at his future. This was hilarious of course. He held back a beaming grin to pose a stern affronted face, mouth moving to a small 'O' and a brow slowly arching in 'distaste'. The banter was really what he needed now, calmed the nerves and brushed the obligations to the back of his mind.

He began nodding and taking the insults, "Yeah, yes, of course. Trash especially when it's small, glows and abnormal, you cheeky s**t."

He laughed, shaking his head in shock at the bold words of the stunted, standing and stretching his spine, listening to Stafford continue on. The albatross stunted was a special one- effectively mixing insult with compliment and he had no idea why he kept the bird around. Aside from the happy feeling of companionship. He swooped over to his chamberpot as Stafford made for the window, jokingly threatening to slosh the contents onto the bird before he made it through the window.

"Don't you dare return without a token of apology, you rat!" He called after, smile audible on his voice. And the stunted was gone., "Cheeky b*****d."

Julian sighed, sitting back onto his cot with a sigh. Best be preparing for the dawn. He fetched his basin and cloth, rough hands scrapping over the light stubble on his chin. He was blessed to have light pigment and slow growing facial hair. Boyish, he's been called. He sighed in content because his ritual was that much shorter. Now to just wash with the cloth, the oil, dress in his uniform and check on his men. He eyed the light outside and furrowed his brow. Stafford has best return soon if he was to get his report out on time.