[color=lightgoldenrodyellow][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/uzrZFLj.png[/img][/center] [right][hr][color=white][b][b]Specific Location | In Transit[/b][/b][/color] February 21st, 3061[hr][/right][/color] [indent][indent][indent]When one had resided in the height of luxury for most of their life, even years later, one would likely struggle to adapt to radical changes in both lifestyle and quarters. In the case of William Prescott, he had managed to adapt to a great many changes, however one such adjustment of which he failed to attune to was the lack of a large, Sereon-feather mattress beneath him, even if he did disagree with the poaching of the animal on his homeworld. Each sleep had left him relaxed and ready for the next day, and offered comforting relief from the duties of the day. Following his departure from Kallas, William had never quite slept the same - after the first year, he had only [i]just[/i] acquired the ability to sleep without tossing and turning, however he still questioned if that was due to the sleeping conditions or fear of waking up on his way back to the royal palace. He knew the ramifications of his departure; People were likely asking where the crown prince was. The fighting on Kallas was likely worse than it was before. Alas, William woke up from the - relatively speaking - uncomfortable bunk with a jolt. After a moment of sitting upright with his hand under his pillow, he relaxed, moving his hands to his lap and away from his sidearm. With a shake of the head, he moved to his feet and began his awakening duties; He washed, he dressed, and then ventured out from the bunks to occupy himself. For a moment, he contemplated trying to track down Andrea - he still owed so much to her. However, knowing she was likely busy, William settled on getting food. More accurately, he settled on getting [i]nutrition[/i]. He hoped that they could get some real food soon, and envisioned his breakfast with disgust as he made his way to the mess. Upon entering the mess hall, he spotted a fellow Exoframe pilot - Marlowe - consuming exactly what was envisioned by William. Bland, disgusting food cubes. Allowing the dispenser to provide him his 'meal', William plopped himself down on a table near his comrade's, and began the process of forcing the food cubes down his throat. He let out a little cough after a long sip of water, and shook his head at the remains of his meal. [color=lightgoldenrodyellow]"Breakfast, [i]your royal highness,[/i]"[/color] William mutters to himself sarcastically, before continuing. [/indent][/indent][/indent]