Res ipsa loquitur (Piett and open)

[Kyryanu Sevon]

She was on Omerose; had been for a few days. It was a nice break from her normal routine, and Kyry was glad for the halt in her life; even if it wasn't permanent. Spending time with Khendon was something she constantly looked forward to, even if it was for a short period of time. There was a side of him she had access to that no one else did; an underlying side of his normally imposing nature; Imperial nature. And that was another thing. She'd always thought Imperials were ramrod straight, through and through. But Khendon was deeper than that; he had a quality to him that seemed to set him apart from the others of the Empire.

She enjoyed her time around him.




But now she was alone. Curled beneath the soft blankets of his bed, she spent the morning drifting in and out of sleep. Khendon himself had risen early, having to work through the day until early afternoon. But she'd stayed behind, enjoying the comfort of his bed. And so she'd dozed through the morning, waking once to crawl from the bed and take a shower. She was content at the moment, lying quietly under the covers and listening to her own breathing. The entire room was silent, no noise whatsoever found its way inside, and Kyry was surprised to find herself enjoying the solitude. It was peaceful; calming.

She fell asleep once again, lying on her stomach with the covers covering her lower body, a pillow clutched in both arms... the picture of tranquility. One that, if seen by anyone else that knew her, would have been almost unbelievable; to see Kyryanu Nerrot-s'Ilancy that quiet and that still for any period of time was on par with a miracle.

Her bare back rose and fell with her breathing, the lines and contours of her muscles smooth and tanned. So relaxed was she that she didn't hear the door to Khendon's quarters open, and the following footfalls heralding a visitor.

[Sean Piett]

Khendon’s Omerose estate had a distinct openness about it. It was simple (technologically) and comely. Servants opened doors and pushed aside curtains, not gears and machinery. The manor sharply contrasted the technology-driven economy of the Imperial Federacy. Piett assumed this was Khendon's refuge from the work he immersed himself in.

The admiral met no resistance as he strode through the wide halls. An adjutant of the Imperator's scooted up alongside him, trading a few words concerning a few mundane little occurances. The excited young man neglected to tell Piett that Sevon was elsewhere.

Before pushing aside an intricatly stitched tapestry/curtain, Piett knocked audibly on a wooden post. He slipped into Khendon's bedroom, expecting to see Khendon behind his ornate wooden desk.

[Kyryanu Sevon]

Kyry stirred, though for the most part remained unmoving as the sharp footfalls entered the room. She figured it was Khendon, coming back for something he'd forgotten, so she simply lay on the bed and drifted once more into slumber; though this time it was more of a light dozing. A part of her hoped that Khendon had come back to spend the rest of his day with her, but more than likely that was not the case. He would probably simply offer her a kiss, then leave once more.

She tightened her grip on the pillow involuntarily, halfway listening as the clack of boot heels hit the wooden floor.

[Sean Piett]

He first looked to the Imperator's desk, expecting to see Khendon. Generally a conservative concerning the force, he scanned the room with his eyes rather than his unmastered powers.

He looked neutrally on the woman. Off the bat, he made a few assumptions about her and her profession. Relationships tended to be unsuccessful when your job was such a large part of your life.

He stepped over to Khendon's desk and began to scrawl a short message on a notepad.

[Kyryanu Sevon]

It only took a few seconds for her to come to the conclusion that it wasn't Khendon who'd walked in, and Kyry let out a mental sigh of aggravation. She opened her eyes, and rolling over, sat up while with one hand making sure the sheets covered her upper body. Metal arm resting gently in her lap, she let a lazy eye fall on the glinting sunlight it caught before lifting her eyes to the man writing a note at Khendon's desk.

She watched him as he wrote, silent for a few moments before finally speaking.

"You plan on sharing that little note with the rest of the class...."

[Sean Piett]

Setting down a pen and lifting the paper, Piett smiled slightly and turned around, facing Kyry. He held it several inches away from his face and slightly below eye-level. His eyes briefly darted up at her, then down on his practically illegible shorthand. After drawing in a short breath, he read the note.

"Seven- going to Nestor's get-together tomorrow at nine, you coming? Leave a message with Paul. Sean."

He set the note on the table behind him, and briefly looked over her body. She was quite attractive, but he raised his eyes from her chest to her face. He knew better than to monkey with a bigger monkey's monkey.

[Kyryanu Sevon]

Kyry rolled her eyes a little, shaking a lock of hair from her eyes. A rttace of disappointment could be seen in her jade green stare, and she let out a long breath. It would have been nice if it was Khendon who'd come back, and not this stranger. Her own eyes travelled the length of his body, from his feet to the top of his head. She could already tell that he had an air about him; something akin to a disdain for people he felt were below him... not that it really mattered to her. She could have cared less what he thought of her.

Still holding the blanket up, she flexed her metal fingers slightly, the whine of tiny servos barely audible as she continued to stare at him.

"Khendon never mentioned a 'get-together' to me," she replied pointedly.

[Sean Piett]

Piett let the air settle for a few seconds, tilting his head slightly and smirking with the right half of his mouth. "I didn't know Khendon let his harlots follow him around like lost little puppies," Sean replied without thought.

[Kyryanu Sevon]

The fingers of her metal hand tightened, metal grinding against metal as the outer casing of her fingers ground against eachother at the derogatory comment. She held her tongue though; for once in her life... for about five seconds.

"First off, Sean, I ain't Khendon's 'harlot'; you say that again and you got a world of hurt staring you in the face... and second of all- " she lifted her prosthetic and pointed a metal finger at him, "-I ain't no gawd-damn puppy."

[Sean Piett]

Piett was slightly taken aback at her response. He hadn't considered that she might be romantically, and not just sexually, involved with Khendon. Suddenly, it seemed obvious that that was a possibility.

His patronizing smirk faded, his mouth straight as a ruler. "I'm not the first person that I'd threaten, Ms. Aggressive."

[Kyryanu Sevon]

"You started it, Buster," she snapped angrily, giving him a grudging stare.

... in any case of a difference of opinion, pants always beats no pants...

She let out a breath then, moving to slide from the bed. Her clothes were laid out over the bedframe at the foot of the bed, and with a hmph, she stared back up at the Imperial. For the most part she could care less about whether or not someone saw her without clothes; hell, the guy had most likely seen naked women before. What he did was up to him; she didn't care, and letting the sheets she'd kept over her chest go, slid a leg out from the covers while reaching for her pants.