(( OOC: This takes place during shore leave. ))
(( A bar, Promenade second level, Deep Space Nine ))
Sival grabbed the edge of the rough-hewn table. He had to put some distance between himself and what was on the table. He pushed hard, causing his chair to slide backwards. He pressed so hard that the ridges on the table edge left marks on his hands.
As he scooted back, the chair made a loud screech. Patrons at the other tables stopped talking and turned their attention to him. After a beat, they lost interest and returned to their chatter. However, one woman sitting on the opposite side of the room held her stare a little longer. Sival made eye contact with her, and she quickly looked away.
Sival noticed that she wore a dark top with black slacks, finished off with scarlet red high heels. They were the same color as her lips, which were framed with a simple earring on either side of her face. And was that perfume that he smelled? Even from across the room, the aroma was sharp and direct to the half-Vulcan’s nose.
Sival looked back at Grumley. After dropping his arms to his side, Sival seemed to freeze in place, his mouth slightly agape and his eyes fixated on Grumley.
Grumely returned in kind. His pupils seemed more blue now than they were before. They seemed to burn, as if they were hot blue flames dancing in each eye. Eyes which, when pointed at Sival, felt like they probed deeply into him.
Grumely squinted his eyes, and a smirk started to grow on his face. Soon it had grown to a hard smile. He crossed his arms and let out a bellow of a laugh that, to Sival, sounded a bit too arrogant and a bit too smug.
Grumely: You weren’t expecting to see that, were you, doctor?
He laughed again, more hoarse now and a little softer than before.
Grumely: I had to make sure you were healthy enough to see it, of course. :: chuckling :: But I do enjoy seeing how it affected you nonetheless! Oh, I do enjoy this game, don’t you, doctor?
He crossed his arms, confidently. He squinted again, and that smirk returned. All the while never losing eye contact with Sival.
Sival rubbed the back of his neck, not quite sure what to do. A pained expression appeared on his face. He made no effort to hide it. In his mind were two thoughts, freeze or act. Logically he should act. He clutched his hands as he thought.
Suddenly, as one movement, Sival stood up, reached across the table and snapped the lid out of Grumely’s hands. He firmly placed it back onto the box.
oO That box needs to stay closed! Oo
Sival felt a rush of strength. Was it anger? Or just determination? Whatever it was, it pushed him to act forcefully. Sival stood, staring down at the seated Grumley. He spoke with firmly, with power.
Sival: You. shall surrender. this item. to me. NOW.
Sival’s face was stern, his cheeks flushed red. He immediately grabbed the box and put it in his pocket.
If Grumely was intimidated, he didn’t show it. He kept smiling. He started to laugh softly. He kept laughing, louder and louder for several seconds.
He stood up, reached over and slapped Sival’s shoulder, as if he were an old pal, but he slapped just hard enough to let Sival know it wasn’t really meant to be friendly - that there was malicious intent.
Grumely: That, Doctor, was worth the price of admission alone! Good show! Good show! Bravo!
He clapped his hands dramatically, mocking Sival. Sival just stood, resolute.
Grumely: Of course you may have the box. It’s yours. I came to give it to you. Please, take it! Never open it! Be frightened by it! It’s all the same to me!
He took a step closer to Sival and whispered in his ear.
Grumely: The game’s afoot. Good luck!
He slapped Sival on the shoulder again, only this time not as hard, as if there was a part of him that felt pity for Sival, having this burden released upon him.
Then, casually, Grumely turned around and walked out of the room, never looking back.
Sival was too stunned to follow. He kept standing. He couldn’t move, as if every joint and muscle had become stiff and locked in place. After a moment, he managed to turn his head and look across the room. The woman was gone.
Sival sat back down at the table and put his head in his hands.