[OOM] Eiattu - Palace Roof

[fighting_mad]

Plourr likes this small section of the palace roof. It's quiet, for one thing, and it's flat which means that walking on it isn't too dangerous, but most importantly, she's never seen another soul up here. Solitude's getting hard to come by.

She slips off her shoes and makes her way past the glass of one of the Grand Hall's skylights, bare feet contrasting sharply with the formality of her clothes. She sets the shoes down and sits at the edge of the roof, letting her feet swing out into space. The courtyard is far, far below, but Plourr is a pilot; heights have never bothered her. She watches the capital city spread out before her. Her city. It's looking better; after nearly a month of work, it's becoming difficult to see signs of the fighting that had taken place. Most buildings have been rebuilt, the streets cleaned up, debris removed.

Still, Eiattu is not entirely healed. Plourr knows that.

She sits quietly, leaning back on her hands, and watches the sun set over the city and the jungle beyond.

Comments

[fighting_mad]

She shrugs. "I've had worse than a splinter." And she has the scars to prove it.

[eiattu_pride]

"Right."

Pulls it out, then lightly presses his thumb over where it was.

[fighting_mad]

Despite the bravado, she hisses. Plourr is a terrible patient.

[eiattu_pride]

He smiles a bit.

"I'd kiss it better, but - not, I think, when it's on your foot."

[fighting_mad]

Cue skeptical look.



Followed by laughter. "I appreciate the thought, Rial," she says, still laughing.

[eiattu_pride]

"My pleasure."

Stands carefully.

"Can you make it, or shall I scoop you off your feet and carry you into the waiting arms of your bed?"

[fighting_mad]

She snorts. "I hate you." She takes hold of the railing and hauls herself to her feet in one quick move, picking up her shoes again and brushing past him down the last few steps. "And no, I don't need to be swept off my feet." She walks carefully, trying to keep the formerly-splintered (stupid) part of her foot off the dusty ground.

[eiattu_pride]

"Mmm."

Waits until they're on level ground, before moving next to her again. KNows better then to just pick her up, because that's asking for a concussion.

"You sure? We could tell anyone who asked that it was a terrible accident from the light glaring off my moustache."

[fighting_mad]

She shoves open the door at the bottom of the stairs and passes through into the palace corridor-- and she just looks at him (and that stupid mustache) a moment before she says, "A terrible mustache-related accident." Beat. "What's sad is that that might almost be believable." The corners of her lips twitch, but she ignores the offer, choosing to just walk a little awkwardly on one side of her foot. There are a lot of things that Plourr has never been good at, and one of them is accepting help.

[eiattu_pride]

He mock-pouts, and what's more, is remarkably good at it.

"But princess," and he's catching up to her in two long strides and then scooping her off her feet, "you don't like the facial hair?"

[fighting_mad]

Surprised like hell, she flails a second as she's lifted up. This? This is a new sensation. A, Plourr is not a small woman, and B, no one has ever dared to even try before.

And so comes the outraged yell. "Rial!"

[eiattu_pride]

Well, Rial is a fairly large man. It evens out.

He smirks.

"Yes, princess?"

[fighting_mad]

"No. No, I don't like the facial hair." She scowls at him-- but she doesn't struggle.

[eiattu_pride]

Hmmph.

"Well, then. Perhaps it will find a way to a new home. Perhaps not."

Starts off in the direction of the living quarters.

[fighting_mad]

"I'll bet that thing could fight off anything you tried to throw at it." Like scissors. Or a razor.

There is a well-dressed man approaching, coming the opposite way down the corridor; a palace secretary, from the look of him. His eyebrows shoot up and he openly gapes.

Plourr facepalms and glares at the young dandy through her fingers.

[eiattu_pride]

Rial gives him a calm, self-assured smile.

"Good evening."

[fighting_mad]

Where is her blaster when she kriffing well needs it?!

The secretary bows a startled greeting, and then they're past him.

"I am going," Plourr says conversationally, "to kill you."

[eiattu_pride]

"Oh, but I should hope not."

Looking wounded. And then they're at her doors.

Along with several guards.

[fighting_mad]

Who look askance, and then might be hiding snickers.



Plourr is going to kill all of them.

"Are you wounded, Princess?" asks one of them.

"No," she says through gritted teeth. "Put me down, Rial."

[eiattu_pride]

He does so, carefully.

"Just a small accident. Will I see you tomorrow, Princess?"

[fighting_mad]

She's glad to have her feet on the ground again. "Yes, that audience with--" And she fails on remembering the name again. "Someone." She also just assumes that Rial will be there; he's her most trusted advisor, after all.

"And," she says after a half-second's hesitation, looking up at him, "we have a wedding ceremony to plan." She is acutely aware of their audience; might as well let the news get out (oh, and it will).

[eiattu_pride]

He can't exactly stop the grin from spreading across his face.

"Of course, princess. Sweet dreams."

[fighting_mad]

"Good night, my count." One of the two guards hits the door panel; Plourr nods her thanks and slips into her chambers. The door hisses closed behind her.

[eiattu_pride]

And Rial wanders away, goofy smile on his face, almost smacking into a guard.

Life is good.