#roleplay reply

Mr Lazaaaaaruuuuus~

You were not joking, I see. I am rather sore after that walk!

The door opened to reveal a well dressed male, candles littering any open ledges as well as a fire crackling in the background.

Admiral Mitchell. It had an odd ring to it, even just in his head. It was even stranger to hear anyone say it. Especially because he was still trying to accept that it was him they were speaking to or about. It was almost a relief when someone – though it was quite rare – screwed up and called him Captain, or started to before correcting themselves. He had been that for so long that it was hard to adjust to the change. Of all the things he had been called throughout his life, this was never on the list he had considered.

Strategic operations and planning weren’t necessarily new to him, but doing so from the ground or rather the flagship he was stationed on, when he wasn’t going to be part of those operations personally certainly was. As an Admiral, he was responsible for commanding large units; strike groups, task forces, and major shore installations. That was different and he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about any of it. He didn’t feel that he was necessarily bad at any of it, it just wasn’t what he was meant to do.

He wasn’t surprised that it was Cyclone who had been promoted to Ice’s position after the death of the former, though in his mind no one would ever live up to the legacy he had stepped into.

A small amount of respect had been earned on both sides and Pete had settled somewhat into his own new position with a lot less chaos than most people would have expected. He and Cyclone – Admiral Simpson - still didn’t really like each other, but they also didn’t dislike each other. It kind of just was what it was between them. The man was his superior officer and he would treat him as such.

Being summoned to said superior’s office did come as somewhat of a surprise, but not at the same time. It wasn’t like they never talked; it just wasn’t always an official summons such as this was. That indicated that it was either something quite important, something classified, or maybe both.

His steps were quick but dignified as his boots thumped across the floor toward Admiral Simpson’s office. The door was open and the Admiral wasn’t the only one inside, which made him arch an eyebrow, but again didn’t entirely surprise him. When he got close enough to see who the other person in the room was, he did feel a bit of that surprise.

He and Lieutenant Seresin had an interesting though not entirely long past. The ego on the younger man was a match to Pete’s own and that caused quite a few clashes between them. But, Seresin was good, so the ego wasn’t entirely unwarranted.

Postures weren’t officially crisp, though the unspoken respect and seriousness between them was still present, so Pete entered the office and greeted both with a crisp nod, his own posture still somewhat stiff since he didn’t know what this was about and part of him hated having no warning whatsoever. “Admiral Simpson, Lieutenant Seresin.” He didn’t salute, but his tone was formal. He knew Seresin had been scheduled leave, but it looked like that was just wishful thinking for the younger man at this point.

Admiral Simpson nodded in return, “Admiral Mitchell.” His own greeting wasn’t cold, but echoed Pete’s formality for a moment. “At ease.” He added, making Pete shift his position slightly though ‘ease’ wasn’t a word he would use for this situation, even without knowing just what it was.

Simpson looked between the two of them with a rather unreadable expression before he finally spoke. “We need you to fly a mission, Mitchell.” His gaze met Pete’s for a long moment before he added. “With Seresin here.”

Pete blinked in surprise at that. While Admirals could fly, it wasn’t something they usually did beyond some kind of display or something along those lines. He had pretty much given up combat mission flights. It was one of the things he already hated about his promotion. “Sir?”

The Admiral’s lips twitched slightly, as if he enjoyed surprising Pete. Which was probably the case. They weren’t exactly friends and their history was a bit rockier than either were going to speak of. “You heard me.” He nodded between Pete and Jake, the twitch fading as quickly as it had come. “There has been a…development and all hands are needed on deck.” He glanced between them again. “Or, in the air as it may be.”

“A development?” Pete bit his tongue on the demand to know why he didn’t already know about whatever this was, hating that he sounded like a confused booter. Especially in front of anyone else.

“Mmm. An…invasion of sorts.” The Admiral’s gaze landed on Pete once more and he seemed to be waiting for either another question or an echo of his statement. When none came, he continued. “Or, we’re pretty sure it could turn into that. Reaching out, making contact, has resulted in disaster to those ‘welcome wagons.’”

Pete frowned, his forehead creasing in frustration at the roundabout way the Admiral was talking and confusion. “No disrespect, sir. But what in the hell are you talking about?”

He was frustrated, angry that he didn’t already know. If he was going to be a part of any mission, flying, strategy, directing from a flight deck, he needed to be in the know. There was no reason, no matter how enjoyable his surprise might be to others, to beat around the bush or spring it on him in a meeting with someone else. Even if that someone else would be his partner on the mission that still hadn’t really been revealed in any understandable way.

The Admiral’s eyes narrowed and Pete wondered if it was in annoyance or because he wanted to say whatever he had to say in his own way, get to it in his own time. Neither boded well and Pete didn’t hesitate to hold his superior’s gaze.

“I’m speaking about an invasion, Mitchell.” The words were nearly snapped, the Admiral’s expression remaining completely serious. “From foreign air space.”

Pete frowned more at that. “Which foreign space?” He was getting tired of this taking so long. There was no reason not to just get to the point. “Sir.” He added as an afterthought only because it wasn’t just the two of them.

The Admiral stared at him for a long moment, that soul reaching gaze shifting to Jake for a moment before he continued. “Outer space, Mitchell. Seresin.”

“Outer –“ Pete blinked again, disbelief coursing through him at the audacity of the man to call them here for what had sounded like such a serious life or death mission only to toy with them in the end. It wasn’t professional, it wasn’t acceptable.

He took a deep breath and then smirked a little, though that anger at being made a fool was still present beneath. “You hear that, Seresin? Outer space. We’re fighting aliens.” He shook his head in disgust. “If this is a joke –“ He forced the next word out “- sir, it’s not a good one.”

"Uhhhh..... yeh, sure thing dood. You might have to talk to Charlie about it first! Or Abigail. I dunnoooo..."