He's a pirate...

[Darth Eris]

Flowery perfume invaded Roman’s nose the moment he inhaled his first waking breath. The smell wafted in from an open window nearby.  He swiped at his brow running a hand down his face and to his chest where they began to stroke a headful of soft hair.

Mmm. Lyshaa sighs, tilting into his touch. Morning.

Is it? Roman looked out the window catching glimpses of the sky through the fluttering curtains. The sky was a bright color, but it was hard to determine the exact time. He looked down at Lyshaa, his hand moving to stroke her arm. Her skin had been darkened by the sun to a richer purple than she normally had. She’d been spending her days beachside while he’d been… what had he been doing?

He sits up causing her to as well. I’ve an interview today.

News or some sort of holozine?

I forget. He stands and stretches with a yawn. Alls I know is I’m going to make it interesting this time. I’m going to talk about how the princess Malator and I used to hold extreme drinking contests. I’m just not sure whether it’d be more entertaining to say I would win or that she would.

For that uptight ice queen, definitely say she won.

Roman grinned. Aye. I’ll do just that. Then I think I’ll regale them with the stories of how the prince and I would go out to karaoke bars all over. His go to song? Cheap Thrills.

Lyshaa laughed throwing a pillow at him. You won’t.

Probably not. He’s staring at himself in the mirror, a frown crossing his lips. He pokes his finger at his stomach amazed that the flesh indented. Where the hell did they go?

Lyshaa was up now walking about the room gathering her things. What?

My abs? Force, I’ve gotten fat.

I didn’t want to say anything, but…

You knew! And you didn’t tell your captain?

You ain’t my cap’ain anymore. You’re my king.

Bah. Roman glared into the mirror. It’s not what I expected. I thought it’d be, more.

More?

More than this. It’s all so political and boring.

There’s a reason for that. Lyshaa comes behind him and rests her chin on his shoulder, her eyes staring at his reflection. Do you see that man?

Roman looks to his reflection. He could see him. Beer belly, unshaven, unkempt, red eyed and tired. Sneering he answered, Aye, I see him.

You know what he is?

He flicks his eyes to her reflection.

He’s no king, she stands on her toes so she can whisper in his ear. He's a pirate.

For the first time in a while he felt a swell of pride. That’s damn right. He was a pirate. At one point he’d been the terror of the Unknown Regions. Now what was he? Alexandre’s play thing. He twirls around snatching her hand in his and kissing her inner wrist. Arr. I be a pirate till da day I die. The time for playing king is past, we best be gettin’ da crew back. We need a plan.

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