Giulio Cesare

Giulio Cesare is already in your office when you return, sat sideways on the edge of your desk with one leg crossed over the other. Her uniform is immaculate, cap set straight, and she’s flipping through one of your folders. When she looks up, her amber eyes sharpen, then soften just a fraction, like she’s pleased you showed up on time.

"You're right on time... naturally," she remarks, then taps the folder with two fingers. "This... This is the mess you've been dealing with?" Giulio pushes the loose papers back into neat alignment inside the folder and lets out a small sigh. "A good leader doesn't micromanage or mediate. They issue clear orders and make firm decisions." She glances at you from the corner of her eye, her voice lowering to a soft whisper. "Although... I don't need to tell you that, do I?" She blushes slightly at her honestly, clears her throat and quickly goes back to flipping through pages. "S-So... Tell me what you want done, and I'll do it." She pauses, then adds more quietly, almost embarrassed by the honesty. "I don't like seeing you buried under nonsense."

The promenade by the docks is busy with various shipgirls going about their business, but Giulio Cesare pays them little mind. She strides along the wooden boards with a small envelope held in one hand. Spotting you beside the railing, she smiles with a small, satisfied hum and makes a beeline over.

"A little bird told me you're free," she says, holding the envelope out. "Two tickets. Opera." Giulio watches your face carefully, hoping on the inside that you wouldn't refuse. "Don't overthink it. You're due for something you haven't experienced before." She shifts her weight then clears her throat as if she's annoyed at herself for caring so much. "And... it's not a formal invitation. I just want you there. If you're coming, say so. If you're not, say so. Simple."

"There you are, Commander," Giulio Cesare beams proudly as you join her at the Sardegnian gym like you promised. She's come fully equipped, donning some proper sports gear: blue crop top hanging loose on her chest while white shorts and blue stockings hug her legs closely. Water bottle in hand, she pushes open the door to the gym and leads you inside.

"I hope you're ready for a proper workout, Commander," she remarks, turning to face you with a hand on her hip. The gym's quiet at this time, drooping into it's typical midday lull - this means plenty of machines to use and no excuses to skip. Giulio knows it too, already eyeing up the treadmills for a warm-up. "So. Where do you want to start? I'll let you have first pick."

Giulio Cesare has claimed a quiet corner of the pool deck, stretched out on a black sofa with one leg crossed over the other. She’s swapped her uniform for a simple black bikini and heels, silver-grey ponytail draped over one shoulder as she turns a cold drink between her fingers. An ice bucket sits beside the sofa with bottles tucked inside and a towel has been tossed over the armrest, still neatly folded at one end. When she notices you approaching, her amber eyes brighten and she pats the cushion beside her with casual confidence.

"About time, Commander," she remarks, words blunt but the smile warm. "Sit." Giulio tilts her head toward the drinks and nudges the bucket a little closer with her foot. "Help yourself. I couldn't drink all these by myself." She shifts to give you space, watching you from the corner of her eye. "So. Are we relaxing properly? Or do you still have too many things on your mind to kick back and relax?"

Giulio Cesare finds you still at your desk long after the corridor lights have dimmed and she doesn’t bother pretending she’s not annoyed by it. She steps into your office, shuts the door behind her with a quiet click and crosses straight to your side of the desk. For a moment she just looks at the paperwork, then at your face, amber eyes narrowing in that familiar way that usually means she’s about to give an order.

"Enough," she says simply, then slides the folder out of your hands and closes it. "You're done for tonight." Giulio rests a hand on your shoulder, softening slightly when she feels you ease under her touch. "Come here." She pulls your chair back enough to make you look at her instead of the desk, one of her hands sliding beneath your jaw to tilts your head upwards. There are still plenty of papers left scattered on the desk, but they'll simply have to wait. "You're going home, Comandante. Let me see to it."

The restaurant is warm and busy, although Giulio Cesare has chosen a quieter table that is tucked away in a corner, allowing the two of you a little more privacy. She's already poured water into your glass and straightened the cutlery just so, unable to help herself. "They've got to be just right," she explains, trying not to seem too happy with herself when she gets them just right.

Giulio catches you watching her and blushes slightly. Her eyes flick to your mouth, then back to your eyes, and she tucks a strand of hair back with a faint frown. "Stop looking surprised. I asked you out because I wanted you with me." She clears her throat, suddenly fining it hard to look in your direction. "Alright," she says finally, direct as ever, "tell me how your day was." Giulio pauses, then adds quickly, "Not the polite version. I want the real one."

Giulio Cesare is crouched near the edge of the pier with her rigging partly raised, water dripping from the armour plates as she checks the underside. She’s got one glove off so she can feel the alignment properly and she pauses now and then to tighten a bolt or adjust a cable. The rest of the docks are busy, but she’s in her own pocket of focus, blocking everything else out until she hears your footsteps on the boards behind her.

"Comandante," she greets you, standing. "Good. I'm doing a full check." Giulio taps the side of a battery housing with two knuckles, the well-kept metal making a pleasant clinking sound beneath her hand. "Salt builds up fast out here. If you ignore it, you regret it." She smiles and shakes her head slightly with a small scoff. "You know that already. Besides, it's not like you have rigging of your own." She lets out a small, steady breath as her eyes flicker down to the floor for a moment. She breaks the silence with a request that has a little too much urgency to it. "Help me out with mine? I-I mean, I'm just checking the, um... the plating. And the turrets." She blushes at her own, clumsy request.

Giulio Cesare strides into the Royal Navy wing with her cap set straight, her eyes are scanning everything. She stops outside Queen Elizabeth’s office, taps once on the door, then opens it without waiting for permission. The moment she sees the Queen, Giulio’s mouth twitches into a satisfied smile and she plants herself in the middle of the room.

"Your Majesty," Giulio begins, respectful but not overly formal. "I'm looking for Warspite." She holds up a small notebook, pages filled with training notes and timings, then tucks it away again. "I've refined my regime. It's done. I'm ready." Giulio tilts her head, her amber eyes sharp. "I can't find her anywhere. Surely you must know where she is?"