JULIAN BRUMBLES let out a slow, controlled exhale, his black rimmed spectacles sliding down his nose.  His anxiety grew steadily as he immediately corrected this with a well practiced hand and then glanced out the window.  The white, blank view that enveloped their transport reminded him of his own life: a blank canvas upon which he would soon paint the details of his career.  He had finally been assigned to a base, to serve under a squadron leader, and to complete real missions.  He knew that this was well worth the wait, albeit he sorely wished that he hadn't been left behind for a full year as his talented peers moved on to tackle bigger and better facets of military life.  The young man, perhaps younger than he looked, would soon learn which brushes would be his to handle.

	Adjusting his bowler hat, Julian eased into his seat and turned his gaze away from the bleak landscape, to the interior of the dropship.  His seating position left him alone, window-side, so he really couldn't see anyone else, save for their heads poking out the top of their seat's head rest.  Given his exquisite attire, he had felt out of place when they had all entered and it made him nervous--he generally wasn't treated well when dressed down in casual.  Still, perhaps this time it would be different.  He was going to have to get to know a new bunch of comrades, friends even... and he was eager, if not adamant, to not be such a coward who kept to himself.  His black coal eyes narrowed out of focus, anger slightly rising up in his heart.  [color=39b54a]'If I want to become a confident person--a strong person, then I must... I must study the habits of people like that...'[/color] Julian mused, feeling a little better from his self-encouragement.

	His thoughts were interrupted as the pilot spoke and the dropship changed momentum.  Blinking and huffing, Julian shuffled over to the empty seat next to him, letting him see down the walkway.  He adjusted his glasses again, taking in every detail of the man's instructions and advice.  Considering their destination, perhaps it was no surprise that their squadron leader might turn out to be weird--scary even.  In his own humble opinion, Julian felt that all leaders were frightening;  they had to be, or they wouldn't get any real results for their superiors.  He wondered if he would lead a squadron of his own someday, like his sister...

	The image of her face flashed in his mind's eye, her knowing grin teasing him as she swung on a hammock and munched on a green apple.

	Julian grunted quietly, casting the irritation from his mind.  He loved his sister, and he knew the feeling was mutual, but her blazing success and natural talent made him rather envious.  One day, he hoped to match her skill and give her a serious run for her money.  

	Adjusting his fine suit and tie, Julian was about to pull out his pocket diary that his uncle had given him a couple years, when a bit of turbulence rumbled the dropship's occupants and startled the young man.  Everything suddenly went blurry, ripping a gasp from him as he felt for his glasses, his hands confirming that they have indeed vacated his freckled face.  Alarm quickened his heart rate as he panicked and searched the seats around him, still finding nothing.  Dread raked down his spine as he realized they had likely fallen into the walkway, where someone might step on them.  It wouldn't be the first time.

	[color=39b54a]"Uh, s-someone help me, please,"[/color] Julian pleaded out loud, as he got on his knees and felt around, gradually crawling into the walkway. [color=39b54a]"My glasses, they--I can't f-find them!"[/color]