Julian lets out a shaky breath, this is not helping--not in the least--he needs to get his emotions under control. He thinks he can be pardoned the reaction, though, considering the situation.

He runs his fingers through his hair, tugging lightly, and lets his back thump against the turbolift wall, taking a few minutes before responding to just breathe, compartmentalize his anger and his grief, lock it away in a corner of his mind. When he responds, it's prefaced by a breathy laugh.

"So you got a transformation you didn't ask for, and it's causing you an identity crisis. You think I don't know what that's like?" He'd had an extended one for over half his damn life.