Specialty: Piloting || Dialogue: #1E79E6
Chris woke up to the sound of his alarm going off for the fourth time that morning. That meant it was the noon alarm, and he decided now was as good a time as any to actually get up. His stomach agreed with him, growling as he sat up in bed. "Yeah, yeah, food. Am I thinking eggs and bacon or a burger for breakfast...or is it lunch?" His stomach growled again, impatiently, "Alright, fine, I'll eat whatever I grab," he said standing. Chris moved his way over to the fridge, which had numerous bottles of different beers and ales, and wine? Oh right, for her...moving on. He then opened the pantry which held the instant meal packets, glossed through them and eventually selected the 'Standard Lunch - Chili and Cheese' packet, tossed it into the microwave and pulled out his lunch. He moved the warm meal over to the couch in the center of his apartment, sat down, and had to get back up again to retrieve the mail, whose reminder bell had just beeped. "Fridly-whacking mail bell, stopping my damn..." Chris began. He saw the official lettering on the expensive envelope amid his usual bills and spam mail. He knew who it was from, but he couldn't bring himself to open it. His stomach growled.
"After lunch, you expensive piece of paper you."
Chris turned on his television and channel surfed while eating, stopping at the soap opera channel for a moment. "Oh John, how could you do this to me?" the character on screen asked. "Oh John, why? WHY? What ever nefarious attempt have you made?" Chris mimicked, switching the channel again to sports. As he finished his meal, his mind wandered back to the letter on his desk. Well, table really, but it fit so nicely with his office chair -- the desk...table, the letter on the table.
Chris reluctantly stood up, cleaned his meal up, and walked over to the table/desk. He sorted through his mail as any sentient being with mail would, "Bill, bill, spam, I've won a vacation? Hey, this is actually from Bill, I should write him back, and you," he finished, lifting the letter he simultaneously dreaded and hoped for. "What do you have in store for me?"
He opened the letter, and read it slowly. "Y'know, you fridly-whacking mail bell, you, I didn't appreciate you interrupting my meal so coincidentally; and I still don't, so don't think you're in the clear yet. But, this is worth getting up for. Just this one, the others are crap, even the one from Bill," Chris ranted to himself as if talking to his mail bell.
"Are you talking to your mail?" a feminine voice asked, sleepily. Chris looked to his bed where the owner of the voice lay, "On the contrary, my mail was talking to me. And it says that I've got fancy new shit to fly, baby. Fancy new shit on the government's dollar."
Of course, it also meant that he would have to reunite with his old teammates. All five...wait, he's one, and there was...all seven of his former teammates. He could recite their names right now, he remembered it like it were yesterd- "Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Chris said, interrupting his thoughts. Although, it will be nice to see some familiar faces, he thought. The only question was what would they have him flying?