Plourr Estillo (
fighting_mad) wrote2006-07-11 08:27 pm
[OOM] Eiattu - Palace
Princess Isplourrdacartha Estillo is in a Mood.
She has been pressed into wearing a dress. This is bad enough in and of itself, but the green gown has a train that she keeps nearly tripping on, and also involved are: makeup, earrings, high-heeled shoes, and some sort of weird styling substance in her short hair. She looks beautiful; she feels a fool.
Train gathered up in one hand, she stalks through the palace, two members of her Guard following at a safe distance. She hardly notices the startled palace staff and assorted courtiers that she passes as she makes her way down several levels, toward the Great Hall. She was already annoyed enough to have to take time out of a very busy schedule for a formal supper with assorted nobles and high muckety-mucks, and this evening seems to be intent on raising her blood pressure by the second.
She veers from her path; throws open a set of old-fashioned wooden doors and steps out onto the small balcony, into the heavy Eiattu night air. She whirls back and barks, "Come out here and I'll vape you!" at her bodyguards.
She doesn't have a blaster--can't fit even a holdout anywhere under this kriffing clingy thing-- but they don't know that. The man and woman glance at each other, then hurriedly close the balcony doors to wait in the corridor inside.
Plourr leans on the railing, looking at the bright lights of Eiattu's bustling capital city through the low-hanging leaves of a courant tree, and she grits her teeth.
She has been pressed into wearing a dress. This is bad enough in and of itself, but the green gown has a train that she keeps nearly tripping on, and also involved are: makeup, earrings, high-heeled shoes, and some sort of weird styling substance in her short hair. She looks beautiful; she feels a fool.
Train gathered up in one hand, she stalks through the palace, two members of her Guard following at a safe distance. She hardly notices the startled palace staff and assorted courtiers that she passes as she makes her way down several levels, toward the Great Hall. She was already annoyed enough to have to take time out of a very busy schedule for a formal supper with assorted nobles and high muckety-mucks, and this evening seems to be intent on raising her blood pressure by the second.
She veers from her path; throws open a set of old-fashioned wooden doors and steps out onto the small balcony, into the heavy Eiattu night air. She whirls back and barks, "Come out here and I'll vape you!" at her bodyguards.
She doesn't have a blaster--can't fit even a holdout anywhere under this kriffing clingy thing-- but they don't know that. The man and woman glance at each other, then hurriedly close the balcony doors to wait in the corridor inside.
Plourr leans on the railing, looking at the bright lights of Eiattu's bustling capital city through the low-hanging leaves of a courant tree, and she grits her teeth.

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:D?
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Plourr folds her hands in her lap, resists the urge to run her hand through hair that still feels utterly foreign, and she does smile. If faintly.
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"Plourr?"
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Then smiles, hearty and almost fake, smiling and nodding under the congratulations.
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It is some hours later when the dinner breaks up. Plourr leaves, predictably, with Rial. She is a little tipsy; not incredibly so, but a little, which speaks to the amount that she had to drink. Her alcohol tolerance is legendary among even Rogue Squadron.
She is laughing, leaning on him as they walk down a deserted hallway. "I can't believe you actually painted your mustache."
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"I told you I might. And you'd been looking so down, lately, I thought it was the perfect time."
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Although there was probably also some down in there somewhere.
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"My apologies, Princess."
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He finds the knife and dangles it teasingly out of reach.
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She halts and crosses her arms over her chest. "If you think I'm jumping for it, you're sorely mistaken."
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He hands it over, still grinning.
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(It doesn't.)
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Rial watches her quietly for a moment, and then, "I need to talk to you."
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He sighs.
"I don't want to ruin your life. I'm in love with you, Plourr, and I'm not going to deny it, but you've got a long time still ahead of you. I just mean - look, go date other people. Stay out late. Have a contest to see who can do the most shots of Whyren's. I'm not going to become a husband to an unwilling wife."
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She can't deny she hasn't worried a little over that, mostly over the no sex, but--
"I don't want to hurt you, Rial."
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He's lying, but he makes himself smile.
"Have a life. It's a good thing, trust me."
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But at the same time, she can't live some cloistered, gray life; she just can't do it.
She nods once. She reaches up and touches his cheek in a gesture that is part thank you, part apology, and all much gentler than her usual manner. "You won't hear a word of anything," she says softly. "I promise."
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"Maybe I'd like to. You could regale me with some wild tales. Come home falling-down drunk."
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She doesn't correct him.
She shakes her head seriously, in response to the suggestion, then snorts. "I don't do falling-down drunk."
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Grins, but his eyes don't smile.
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She smiles quickly, with a brief flash of fierce joy that nobody has closed off the secret passages that she and her sisters used to run through, leaning forward to stare into the passage before she glances back to Rial. "I think I'm going to head upstairs."
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