[OOM] Eiattu - Royal Palace

[fighting_mad]

Dinner over with, the sky outside dark and filled with stars, Plourr is sprawled across the sofa, her feet in Rial's lap. "I don't know how the idiot ever thought it was a good idea."

She shakes her head, but here's a rare thing, amid all this misery and restlessness and rampant boredom and discomfort and fucking helpless waiting: there's a thoroughly obnoxious grin threatening.

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[eiattu_pride]

Upon their return an hour later, they find (knew ahead of time) that the room set aside is small, quiet, and relatively cozy, medical instruments and implements tucked away discretely. Rial crouches down near the door, rummaging through a small bag at his feet, talking quietly.

"Anyhow, I brought sabacc cards, if we wanted to play, since I think we've got some time yet, or we could walk a bit more, uh, it's really your choice."

[fighting_mad]

It's been an hour. An hour for the immediate explosion of sharp panic to settle into -- well, dull panic, roiling just under the surface, and sulky denial. An hour for the pain and discomfort to increase, too, for her back to start to ache and for increasingly creative combinations of obscenities.

"Sabacc's fine," Plourr says sullenly, a little out of breath, settling back in on the bed with her back against the wall. She props her feet up (shoes long gone) on a couple of pillows.

[eiattu_pride]

Rial grabs the bag, forgoing the search through it (it's possible that it also contains several other things including reports that he has yet to finish, a holorecorder, a datapad with the screen currently showing oh baby oh baby - Your First Pregnancy and What You Should Expect) to dump it on the bed and plop down next to Plourr.

"Are we playing for credits? Because I would feel bad taking money from a pregnant woman."

[fighting_mad]

'Bitch,' says Plourr's face expressively, 'please.'

"You? Beat me? Don't make me l--" Her face twists and her breath catches and sticks in her throat, and she tenses and mutters something choked and foul in Rodian.

[eiattu_pride]

"Don't hold your breath," he says softly, reaching out to take her hand. "Deep breathing, remember. And I totally would beat you. Always do."

[fighting_mad]

Plourr shoots him a look through her hair, but starts breathing again, concentrates on drawing air into and out of her lungs and not on how much this kriffing hurts (she's holding his hand, tight) --

and she relaxes against his side. "Fuck," she mutters through a dry mouth, against his shoulder, and then she says, "You have the worst sabacc face I've ever seen in my life."

[eiattu_pride]

Rial holds her, tightly, drawing her against him. "At least it's prettier then yours." The smile, soft, slightly worried, doesn't quite match the words.

[fighting_mad]

"Bite me." She rakes her fingers through her hair, drawing it out of her face for the umpteenth time tonight. "Quit stalling and deal, Pernon."

[eiattu_pride]

Rial does indeed quit stalling and deals, doing his best to put on a good sabacc face.

...it slips a moment later when he looks at his cards and winces, biting his lip.

[fighting_mad]

Plourr says, "You sure you don't want to bet?"

[eiattu_pride]

"I could beat you easily," he says, but without much conviction. "For all you know, I'm lulling you into a false sense of security."

[fighting_mad]

She shakes her head, holding her cards at an angle so that he can't look over her shoulder and see her hand, and says, "No betting, I'm not folding--" A pause. "Do you have a shifter?"

[eiattu_pride]

"...Whoops," says Rial, and attempts to look innocent.

[fighting_mad]

"Dumbass. You're dead anyway." She lays down her cards on his thigh. "Idiot's Array. Read it and weep."

[eiattu_pride]

"You don't even want to know what I have," Rial moans, eying his cards with loathing. "Why's it always me?"

[fighting_mad]

"Because you didn't grow up in cantinas playing sabacc," she says matter-of-factly, plucking his cards out of his hand and picking up the deck. She mixes both of their hands in, then starts shuffling the deck, riffling through the cards with a precision born of long practice. Her hands move constantly, restlessly.

[eiattu_pride]

"That's true. Hey, maybe we could supplement the royal treasury by sending you to Coruscant to gamble." He stares off into hyperspace, grinning. "Plourr Ilo, Empress and girl card-sharp."

[fighting_mad]

"Woman," she corrects, with an arch look. "Woman card-sharp--" Her voice rises unnaturally at the end, and the deck of cards makes ominous crinkling noises as her white-knuckled fist closes around it.

[eiattu_pride]

There's the by now almost instinctive motion of his hand coming to rest over her own, squeezing lightly. "Woman, of course. You can make loads of credits and then we'll run away somewhere for the rest of our lives, how does that sound?"

[fighting_mad]

"Peachy," she says through gritted teeth.

[eiattu_pride]

"We can buy an expensive ship and leave Eiattu to your thak, okay?" His other hand is on her shoulder, rubbing lightly in circles.

[fighting_mad]

"Kriff," she says, after a moment. "Let's do it now. Right now." It's a joke, for the most part, though there's honest sentiment to be found, too -- Plourr doesn't retreat often, but she would love to turn tail and outrun this right about now.

[eiattu_pride]

"Sorry, I have to wash my hair."

:D?

[fighting_mad]

She smacks his chest, and not gently, either.

[eiattu_pride]

"Ow," he says, looking woeful. "That hurt."