~Doctor Cassandra Bishop~ [i][u][b]This Morning[/b][/u][/i] Cassandra's eyes fluttered open to reveal the metallic roof of her small room. She yawned rather loudly, pushing herself up into a sitting position on her bed before stretching her arms. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she slid sideways so that her feet touched the cold metallic floor. Being the head doctor on the ship had its advantages. Primarily a room to her own, albeit small, but it was enough to make Cassandra feel at home. The walls were littered with various half ripped posters of the former occupant. She really had to decorate the place more in the future. Currently all she'd added was a potted plant, a canvas print and her cat's food and water bowls. Speaking of her cat, Ruby was currently toying with a small ball filled with catnip on Cassandra's desk. She grinned as she watched the small kitten for a while, before rising from her bed and stretching once again. She made her way to the bathroom where she had a quick shower before returning to her room and getting changed. She pulled her blinds open first, checking the weather to see what clothing would be appropriate. It was quite sunny today and so she opted for a mauve dress. Of course, her lab coat went on over said dress, but it wasn't thick enough to add any amount of substantial heat anyway. She made her way to the lab to no doubt see some young recruit who Faulkner had undoubtedly pushed too hard. [i][b][u]Present Time[/u][/b][/i] Cassandra toyed with the food on her plate as she half listened to Cyrus tell some tale of grandeur no doubt. To be honest her mind was elsewhere. She couldn't pinpoint what it was, but she just had a gut feeling that something was going to go wrong. But then again, she was a bit of a pessimist. Her head shot left like a bullet as the captain's presence was announced. She laid her fork down on her plate, brushed herself off and stood, saluting to the captain. She never really understood why they saluted Renault. Not to say she didn't respect him, it just seemed kind of ironic to do something as militaristic as saluting when you're doing it towards a pirate. Cassandra had always thought that it was Faulkner that had swayed Renault into doing it, but she had never really cared enough to ask either of the two. As it turns out, the crew of the Crimson Dusicyon were actually getting some sort of homebase. Cassandra only hoped it was somewhere sunny, where she could go on holiday for a while without being called back to the ship too quickly because Faulkner [i]'Just had to throw the boy off the ship for being too dumb'[/i]. She picked up her fork again, stabbing a small portion of the lobster that she had cut up before raising it to her mouth and eating it. Cyrus was right, it was delicious. She suspected that Cyrus was drunk from the way he mistook water for an alcohol, but it was often hard to tell with the man. "Could just be really non-alcoholic vodka" She grinned. "Besides, you're not one to talk about alcohol being mostly water, Cyrus!" She joked. [hr] ~General Richard Faulkner~ [i][u][b]This Morning[/b][/u][/i] The new recruits quarters were silent as the sun barely peeked its head out from over the horizon to begin the new day. A normal person would have slept for at least another 2 hours or so. But under Faulkner's regime you got up early and you went to bed early. Heavy boots thumped along the wooden floor and a trumpet sounded as Faulkner made his way up and down the quarters. The new recruits were startled to say the least. They had been warned about Faulkner but, they had never expected him to be wearing full military garb, with a revolver strapped to his thigh and a trumpet in one hand. "Rise and shine maggots, a day slept in is a day wasted and a day under my regime is never wasted!" He shouted, his voice booming and echoing within the room. The recruits stood, lined up in rows awaiting orders. Faulkner grinned, new recruits were always a delight to him. His walk was slow and decisive. He scanned each and every recruit, before selecting a rather scrawny, skinny looking fellow and marching straight over to him. Thus began the slew of insults and expectations that Faulkner spouted out every year. A few hours later and the deck of the Crimson Dusicyon was practically spotless and shining. The first job for every new batch of recruits was, of course, scrubbing the deck clean. Faulkner often said it built character, but it was more of a chance for him to insult them more. Surprisingly though, there was a big lack of any physical punishment being handed out. Faulkner seemed to be more than happy with his insults to ruin them with a punch. He grinned, holding his fist to his heart as he strode up and down the deck, admiring 'his' work. [i][b][u]Present Time[/u][/b][/i] Faulkner stared down at the mighty steak that lay in front of him. He always loved dinner. Say what you will about pirates, but they always got high quality food. Much better than the shit they gave you in the core, hard to tell if that was meat or something pulled out of an exhaust pipe. He grabbed his steak knife and cut into the steak, he was overjoyed to see it was exceptionally rare, to the point where some blood could still be seen within the meat. Some would have said Faulkner was a sick man, others a man of fine taste. He picked the piece of steak he had cut up with his fork and was about to bite down on the delectable slice he had cut when the familiar sound of the captain coming on board echoed throughout the hall. Faulkner quickly dropped his fork, standing to attention and saluting. He quickly sat down after the speech was given. A homebase for the crew? To Faulkner that could only mean one thing. A place to train recruits without the restrictions of the ship. He was practically day dreaming about the possibilities when the smell of his steak rose to his nose. He returned to it, feasting like a true gent.