Lyra Ventor
Character
Lyra stared at Syn for a moment after his perfectly matter-of-fact explanation, then slowly shook her head. "Of course you do." Apparently, reinforcing oneself with the Force was a perfectly reasonable solution to the consequences of several hours spent making certain his girlfriend was thoroughly exhausted. She slipped carefully from the bed, testing her legs before trusting them with her full weight. "Some of us don't have the option of reinforcing ourselves with the Force yet, you know." There wasn't an ounce of genuine complaint behind it. The smile she was trying and failing to suppress made that abundantly clear as she reached for her clothes.
Alema's report distracted her before she could begin getting dressed. Lyra listened with growing disbelief until the ship reached the part about rerouting soap, at which point she stopped entirely and looked upward. "You washed his mouth out with soap?" She wasn't sure whether she was more amused by Alema deciding the Anzellan's vocabulary required disciplinary intervention or by the fact that the encounter had apparently ended with him cleaner than when it began. Syn's reminder that Alema shouldn't hurt him tempered the humor somewhat, though nothing the ship had described sounded as though their guest had suffered anything worse than indignity and exhaustion. "I have a feeling he's going to wake up with some very strong opinions about you."
Lyra finally began pulling on her cleaned clothes, appreciating Alema's work considerably more now that she was awake enough to do so. "Although I suppose trying to outrun the ship you're currently inside was never going to end particularly well for him." She glanced toward Syn as she finished dressing, amusement warming her expression. "At least he's asleep. Which means maybe we can find out where Alema brought us before he wakes up and declares another war."
Syn
Alema's report distracted her before she could begin getting dressed. Lyra listened with growing disbelief until the ship reached the part about rerouting soap, at which point she stopped entirely and looked upward. "You washed his mouth out with soap?" She wasn't sure whether she was more amused by Alema deciding the Anzellan's vocabulary required disciplinary intervention or by the fact that the encounter had apparently ended with him cleaner than when it began. Syn's reminder that Alema shouldn't hurt him tempered the humor somewhat, though nothing the ship had described sounded as though their guest had suffered anything worse than indignity and exhaustion. "I have a feeling he's going to wake up with some very strong opinions about you."
Lyra finally began pulling on her cleaned clothes, appreciating Alema's work considerably more now that she was awake enough to do so. "Although I suppose trying to outrun the ship you're currently inside was never going to end particularly well for him." She glanced toward Syn as she finished dressing, amusement warming her expression. "At least he's asleep. Which means maybe we can find out where Alema brought us before he wakes up and declares another war."