Kyell's quarters at the Jedi Temple were all right for one person, but for two people—soon to be four—it was fast becoming too cramped for their liking. The Temple had grown crowded in recent years, and there were no more rooms to switch to, certainly nothing bigger than the dormitory they already occupied. Upon hearing of their misfortune, friends and family had offered their guest rooms and extra ship space to the couple. Miri had turned them all down. Partly because her pride wanted them to remain as independent as possible, and partly because there was no way she could tolerate living with some of these people.
She hadn't given up hope that she could get her ship back. Until then, she'd just have to deal with this tiny little room.
The Jedi liked to keep their quarters spartan, and there wasn't much in the way of furniture that could fit in there to begin with. A bed, a nightstand, a desk, a closet, a beanbag chair. When it came to finding a good place to sit down, the desk chair did not look inviting, and she knew that if she sat on the bed, she'd probably wind up laying down and taking a nap. So that left the beanbag.
Decorated with a tacky pattern reminiscent of a huttball, the beanbag chair was an enigma. Was it Kyell's? Had it come with the room? Miri certainly hadn't brought it in. Upon further examination, she found it was surprisingly comfortable. However, not long after she sat in it, she realized that she couldn't get up. The chair was not designed with the overworked abdominal muscles of pregnant women in mind (or perhaps it was just too old and beat up to function as anything more than a glorified floor cushion), and as a result it had sunk too low under her weight. No amount of straining, wiggling, or attempting to roll over could get her out of the thing—and it wasn't like Miri could just use the Force to help herself to her feet.
"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered out loud.
Oh, she could probably get up on her own eventually with enough maneuvering, though it was likely inadvisable in her delicate condition. Better to have someone help her up. Kyell had gone to train, though he was supposed to be back soon. In fact, that was why she hadn't gone to bed—she wanted to be awake when he arrived. Groaning, she glared at the birthday gift in the corner, which she'd spent the better part of the day carefully wrapping just so that he wouldn't be able to instantly tell what it was on sight. Maybe she should've just taken a nap anyway.
She hadn't given up hope that she could get her ship back. Until then, she'd just have to deal with this tiny little room.
The Jedi liked to keep their quarters spartan, and there wasn't much in the way of furniture that could fit in there to begin with. A bed, a nightstand, a desk, a closet, a beanbag chair. When it came to finding a good place to sit down, the desk chair did not look inviting, and she knew that if she sat on the bed, she'd probably wind up laying down and taking a nap. So that left the beanbag.
Decorated with a tacky pattern reminiscent of a huttball, the beanbag chair was an enigma. Was it Kyell's? Had it come with the room? Miri certainly hadn't brought it in. Upon further examination, she found it was surprisingly comfortable. However, not long after she sat in it, she realized that she couldn't get up. The chair was not designed with the overworked abdominal muscles of pregnant women in mind (or perhaps it was just too old and beat up to function as anything more than a glorified floor cushion), and as a result it had sunk too low under her weight. No amount of straining, wiggling, or attempting to roll over could get her out of the thing—and it wasn't like Miri could just use the Force to help herself to her feet.
"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered out loud.
Oh, she could probably get up on her own eventually with enough maneuvering, though it was likely inadvisable in her delicate condition. Better to have someone help her up. Kyell had gone to train, though he was supposed to be back soon. In fact, that was why she hadn't gone to bed—she wanted to be awake when he arrived. Groaning, she glared at the birthday gift in the corner, which she'd spent the better part of the day carefully wrapping just so that he wouldn't be able to instantly tell what it was on sight. Maybe she should've just taken a nap anyway.