Slate wiped clean - OTA
Sunlight filters through the blinds, bathing the room in a warm yellow glow. Julio stretches, wincing at the crack and click of his spine as he rolls his shoulders, scratching lazily at his bare stomach. He had the weirdest dreams last night, couldn't quite remember them now though but he's pretty sure the beers followed by shots at the poker game last night where the reason why he woke up in the med bay and had been forced to stumble his way to his room at about 4am. Julio showers, hands scrubbing over his face as he tries to wash away the remenants of sleep and the hangover which is lurking in the back of his mind, threatening to kick in, if he doesn't go in search of coffee and breakfast soon.
He dresses quickly, sliding on designer jeans, a long sleeved shirt to stave off the cold and Timberland boots; there's no uniform expected of the MRE team here, only when they head out on missions, though suitable/appropriate attire is always required. Shame, there are some women around camp whom Julio would love to see in a skimpy skirt that barely covers their pert behinds.
Stepping out into the fresh air of the day, Julio taps out a cigarette and lights it, exhaling a steady stream of smoke into the air as he wanders across camp towards the mess hall. Scrolling through his Blackberry Julio makes a note that he needs to call his father and have a catch up on the business front, make sure everything is alright and update him on the latest agreements that have been made with the military over the provision of alternative weapons. Today, he reckons, is going to be a good day.
He dresses quickly, sliding on designer jeans, a long sleeved shirt to stave off the cold and Timberland boots; there's no uniform expected of the MRE team here, only when they head out on missions, though suitable/appropriate attire is always required. Shame, there are some women around camp whom Julio would love to see in a skimpy skirt that barely covers their pert behinds.
Stepping out into the fresh air of the day, Julio taps out a cigarette and lights it, exhaling a steady stream of smoke into the air as he wanders across camp towards the mess hall. Scrolling through his Blackberry Julio makes a note that he needs to call his father and have a catch up on the business front, make sure everything is alright and update him on the latest agreements that have been made with the military over the provision of alternative weapons. Today, he reckons, is going to be a good day.