Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Rear Window

The sound of repulsors lifts humming was the only sound in the room, drowning out the otherwise unnerving silence that had filled the safe house for the past couple of days. With his right leg fully extended and in cast, he hovered about the room in his current mode of transportation, the repulsor lift chair, in a vain attempt to try and pass the time and fight off the overwhelming feeling of boredom that was creeping in.

Stretching out to the best of his ability - or at least as much as one could, given his current set of circumstances with the outstretched and broken leg - Patches tried in vain to scratch the bottom of his foot, his fingers grazing the top, but alas, coming up just short of the bottom where the itch was beginning to spread like wild fire.

Shiong mao niao, he mused to himself, swinging the controls on the repulsor chair to the bedside table, he grabbed the complimentary writing utensil, and tried again with the same results to scratch that itch that couldn't be reached.

I hate my life, he thought to himself, throwing the pen across the room in frustration, he sulked in his chair and let out a big sigh in frustration.
 
@[member="Jonathon Patches"]

"You know, if you had only listened to me... we wouldn't be in this situation." Skye said with a chiding hint in her voice. There was a low click of her boots as she came to a halt behind him. Her long dark hair flanked her shadowy face, the wide brim of her hat low over her forehead, just enough light in the hideout to cast a ray of light against the glinting gunmetal grey of the cybernetic ocular patch over her right eye.

Oh she was amused; you didn't need to glance at her face to tell. To be frank, watching him spin around and around on the hover chair only proved that this was the worst sort of punishment for the Information broker - being unable to move and stuck on a chair -- at her mercy.

Oh, she was never going to let him forget it.

She wore a trenchcoat, still a bit dusty, that she slowly shrugged off as she continued, "I told you you shouldn't have taken that bet." the coat was tossed over another chair and the hat came next, landing beside a pair of binoculars.

"But you just had to do it..."
 
@[member="Skye Mertaal"]

"What?" he asked dismissively, letting out a whisp of air from his lips in objection, "Normally I can hit that triple sow cow, spinning back flip on those ski's," he quipped, as the chair lunged forward a bit abruptly. He was still getting a bit used to the controls.

Extending the writing utensil with his right hand, he offered it to Skye, and nodded to his extended foot, and asked "you wouldn't be a dear and get that for me, would you?"
 
@[member="Skye Mertaal"]
Some would wonder, perhaps; however this scoundrel wasn't buying it, not even in the slightest. She is so adorable when she tries, he mused to himself, knowing far too well her little game with the whispering near his ear and the tone in her voice was little more than a bluff. Still, even though his mind knew this to be the truth... his body did betray him with a subtle shiver, but he quickly tried to hide this by a shifting in his chair.

"Pleeeease" he said in a long, drawn out manner, almost mocking her demands in his best attempt at a sultry voice... sultry was perhaps not the best choice of words perhaps, as many would conclude sarcasm was perhaps the better way to define the tone in his voice.

"Scratch my itch," he added, his eyes wandering to his foot, and back to her - or was his gaze perhaps stopping just a bit short of his foot?
 

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