eiattu_pride: (hmmm)
[personal profile] eiattu_pride
Rial managed to sneak Wainthropp through his door, much to the small purple creature's apparent joy. It's now curled up on the couch, finishing off a piece of lightly buttered toast, looking deeply satisfied.

Rial's in their bedroom, searching around for something to make into a bed for the crumple-horned snorkack.

And wondering if he should tell Plourr.

Date: 2007-01-21 02:50 am (UTC)
fighting_mad: (medium - startled)
From: [personal profile] fighting_mad
There is a shriek from the living room.



Telling Plourr really won't be a problem anymore.

Date: 2007-01-21 03:02 am (UTC)
fighting_mad: (any - blaster)
From: [personal profile] fighting_mad
She is standing with a datapad in one hand and her blaster in the other. Guess which one is pointed unerringly at the purple thing on the sofa?

"What the kriff is that?!"

Date: 2007-01-21 03:14 am (UTC)
fighting_mad: (medium - flat look)
From: [personal profile] fighting_mad
The barrel lowers slowly.

"Him," she says flatly, suddenly highly suspicious. "It's a him?"

Date: 2007-01-21 03:31 am (UTC)
fighting_mad: (long - WTK)
From: [personal profile] fighting_mad




There are no words, right now. There is only a combination of 'what did you say?' and 'no, it is not' on her face.

Plourr sets a stubborn hand on her hip.

Date: 2007-01-21 03:53 am (UTC)
fighting_mad: (medium - bitch please)
From: [personal profile] fighting_mad
"You still haven't answered my question," she says, looking very unmoved.

Also, very annoyed.

Date: 2007-01-21 04:03 am (UTC)
fighting_mad: (medium - yeah huh)
From: [personal profile] fighting_mad
Plourr sighs, finally holstering her blaster and dropping into an armchair. "Rial, I don't care if it's a five-horned whisperkit, what the hell's it doing in our apartments?"

Date: 2007-01-21 04:14 am (UTC)
fighting_mad: (long - WTK)
From: [personal profile] fighting_mad
"Ohhh no," she says immediately, sitting upright. "No, it does not, Rial Pernon. I don't care if you have some sort of--formerly purple bond, or something, that thing can't stay here."

Date: 2007-01-21 04:31 am (UTC)
fighting_mad: (long - pretty)
From: [personal profile] fighting_mad
Plourr facepalms hard, tilting her head back and hiding her eyes with her hand.

"Where the kriff did it come from?"

Date: 2007-01-21 04:48 am (UTC)
fighting_mad: (rial - deathglare)
From: [personal profile] fighting_mad
Plourr makes a pained noise that sounds something like 'nnnnghhk,' but it's hard to say, as her face is hidden by her hand and her palm is muffling her voice.

Date: 2007-01-21 04:57 am (UTC)
fighting_mad: (long - grrrr)
From: [personal profile] fighting_mad
"What was wrong with his old one?" she asks crabbily of her hand.

Date: 2007-01-21 05:08 am (UTC)
fighting_mad: (medium - bzuh frown)
From: [personal profile] fighting_mad
Her fingers lower from her eyes. She peers up at him.

"Luna," Plourr says neutrally. "The same Luna who turned you purple?"

Date: 2007-01-21 05:21 am (UTC)
fighting_mad: (medium - gotta be kidding)
From: [personal profile] fighting_mad
She sighs and leans her head against his arm. "Alright," she grumbles. "Alright, fine." She glares daggers around Rial at Wainthropp. "Just tell it not to scare the shavit out of me like that. Next time, I'll shoot."

The only reason she's allowing it to stay is not that it belongs to the woman who turned her husband purple.

Not at all.

Date: 2007-01-21 05:36 am (UTC)
fighting_mad: (long - seriously?)
From: [personal profile] fighting_mad
"I'm not talking to it. It can't understand me."

She grumps, "You're welcome."

Date: 2007-01-21 05:42 am (UTC)
fighting_mad: (short - serious)
From: [personal profile] fighting_mad
Plourr nearly sat on a strange little spiny be-horned purple thing in the sanctity of her living room. As someone who is not an animal lover--besides thaks--even at the best of times, she is not particularly thrilled right now.

"And when were you planning on telling me about him?" she asks, tipping her head back to look up at him, sitting on the arm of her chair as he is.

Date: 2007-01-21 05:57 am (UTC)
fighting_mad: (rial - another kiss)
From: [personal profile] fighting_mad
Plourr's eyes fly open and she protests, with something that might be 'Rial!' or might be 'eeirg!' Putting a hand on his arm, she makes the attempt--admittedly, not nearly as strongly as she could--to pull away, or to push him away. She isn't too picky.

Date: 2007-01-21 06:08 am (UTC)
fighting_mad: (rial - another kiss)
From: [personal profile] fighting_mad
Further protests are half-hearted, at best. A few seconds pass where she's just giving back what she gets, not encouraging or discouraging, but then her hand wraps around the back of his neck, pulling him down as she leans up.

Date: 2007-01-21 06:30 am (UTC)
fighting_mad: (medium - mmmm)
From: [personal profile] fighting_mad
"Count Pernon," she says imperiously, but she's getting up, "I will not be distracted so-- so cheaply." He kisses her again, though, long and slow and--oh kriff, fine, maybe she will be.

Plourr manages to disentangle herself; tells him to go ahead, that she'll be in in a second, and once he's passed through the bedroom door, she pads over to the couch.

She stares down at the little creature, its purple snout hiding in the cushions, and then she glances around, whispers, "Sorry," and furtively scratches the snorkack behind a horn.

Wainthropp snuffles and purrs.

Plourr kinda smiles, but she isn't about to tell her husband that.

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