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Gregorian has been a member of the Long Patrol for years and years, OOCly and ICly. This promotion should have happened a long time ago!
Jinora waits in the Meeting Room, leaned against one of the benches with her ears pinned back. She nervously adjusts the cuffs on her jacket and clears her throat, using the moment alone to allow her posture to relax. It doesn't do much for the stress, but it does feel nice to take a small moment to /not/ stand as if a stick is wedged firmly where it oughtn't be.
Greg is not entirely fond of this place. The only time he's ever been in it is when something's gone wrong and the only time he's ever summoned anywhere has been when he's in trouble. He can think of anything he's done, or at least nothing they should know about or recently, but summoned he has been. He pauses outside the door to get out an uncomfortably nose twitch before knocking.
At the knock, Jinora jolts back into her stiffened posture, clearing her throat again. "Entah!" She calls, chiding herself for allowing her voice to slip into something almost sing-song. You're a Major, Tottheim, act like it! "Good, thank ye fer comin'." The doe, as she has since her promotion, looks a little uncomfortable. "Since you've been re-instated, you've been pu' in my Patrol." The Major recaps, perhaps unnecessarily. "So there is a mattah which needs t'be discussed."
Greg enters as instructed and throws up a quick salute. It's a lot more formal than any other salute he's given over the last few years, he's actually trying again now he's not retired and properly snapping to attention "Yes Marm" he confirms, he is indeed in her patrol. He looks slightly puzzled at the next bit though "A mattah marm?" every doubt and problem he's ever thought of quickly runs through his head as he tries to decide what the exact issue is.
Jinora is not oblivious to the discomfort she's caused - she's been in that 'oh crap, what I do' position enough times to recognize the cold flop sweat of fear when she sees it. She softens her expression. "Don' worry, yer not in trouble." She assures him. "It's... No secret tha' I was not put in this position purely by choice or merit, and though I would rathah no' admit it: I need insight. Yer time in th'Patrol makes ye an invaluable membah, no' only as Mastah Smith, bu' as an advisor as well..." The hare straightens her jacket. "It's a... Rathah pervasive opinion among th'Patrol, no' just meself, tha' this is long overdue." The doe extends a paw, offering out a rolled piece of parchment. Orders. "I'll need ye t'visit Uniform when we're done 'ere, Sergeant. Welcome back t'active duty."
Greg relaxes slightly when she says he's not in trouble but there's always the possibility that's a trap when it comes to officers. He looks even more confused as she goes on. Him? Insight? Ok he's been around longer than half the existing patrol but he's never considered himself anything important. Even when it comes to being a smith, they tacked that master bit on at some point and he just went with it and assumed it just meant he'd been around the forge enough to qualify as furniture. It's with great surprise he takes the orders and it seems to take him several extra seconds for what's going on to really sink in "...Wot?" blink "Sergeant?" he looks confused or disbelieving. It's another few seconds before it sinks in enough for a grin to start to form though he doesn't let it break out completely until he's quickly opened the orders to skim over them "Actual propah sergeant?" a bigger grin.
"Aye, actual propah Sergeant." The Major chuckles. "Ye been 'ere a sight longah than I 'ave." To be fair, he's likely been in the Patrol longer than she's been alive. "If circumstances were different, it'd be you in m'position. As it were, I... Need th'help." She admits, though still with that pleased expression, before she salutes him. "I look forward t'workin' with ye."
Greg laughs, he actually looks really happy and practically does an excited dance like a little kid before snap and he's standing up, back straight, trying not to grin like a loon and mostly failing. He snaps a salute back "Wotevah yah need marm...Thank yah."
"Nah, Greg. Thank /yeh/." She relaxes her posture and starts for the door, a laugh still flitting over her muzzle. "Trus' me, once th'workload hits ye, ye'll be cursin' me in y'sleep, Sergeant." Jinora promises before slipping back into the hallway.
Greg just laughs "Just let me enjoy it for five minutes then yah can pile it all on. Get me in the right mood for yellin' at recruits" which he assumes he gets to do now. He was doing that already of course but they didn't really have to listen to him when he was retired, he just took advantage of the fact they didn't usually know that. He lets her go on ahead so he at least has a few seconds to do a stupid happy dance where no one can see him and then he leaves too, straight off to get a new uniform.
Lutea, Aden, Samara, Mary, Nautch, Jinora, Kympa, Isla, Rionach, and Jion
Avatar is a free base from Ace_Coyote on FA that I edited over
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