Faction GA NJO | Feasts and Friendships

[Kyr]

The Jedi Temple on Coruscant

What had begun as a day filled with hard work and diligent efforts was now settling down to be an evening of even greater hardship for the Moralin Padawan Kyr. The insectoid had only been accepted into the Order a few days prior and had been doing its utmost to perform guarantee that it was giving a good impression. Especially given the few difficulties that he had run into with his assigned dormitory space, including the fact that the sleeping area had been more accustomed to the traditional shape of a human being than to his quadrupedal body, and that the meals had been foreign and fairly unfulfilling for his palate, and so he'd required seconds... and thirds.

Kyr already felt like something of a bother to the Order. He'd begun to question whether his arrival had been altogether a reasonable choice. After all, it was not as if though he had truly experimented with his gifts on his own. He'd always been so busy running errands and performing administrative duties for his Director - the progenitor who had controlled his very existence - that he had seldom found free time for such things. Perhaps it would have been a smoother arrangement if he had spent a few years testing himself, and only come to the Order when he was a well-established user of the cosmic power which guided them all.

Or perhaps he was simply not doing his utmost to fit in. He was different than a good number of his human and humanoid peers, but if he made the effort to get to know them, to better understand them, and to acquaint them with his own mannerisms and style of existence, then maybe he could learn to become a better fit for the Order.

With that thought in mind, Kyr had begun preparing for what could only be described as an open-invitation dinner party for his fellow peers in the New Jedi Order.

Planning had always been a strong suit for the Moralin, and so he'd settled down to determine the details of his event. Kyr had been doing research on some of the cultural elements both of the galaxy's most common people and of the habits of both the New Jedi Order and Jedi Orders of the distant past and come to a number of conclusions. The first was that a limb-cooked meal was far more valuable than one that was simply purchased from a commercial depot. The acquisition of a new set of silverware, pots, and plates was promptly purchased - each of the larger dishes had handles attached to them to make it easier for the Moralin to carry them around.

Once the cookware had been prepared, there was a decision to be made about foodstuffs. Nerf steaks had seemed to be a fairly safe choice for an entree because he had heard at least a few of his new peers discussing their acquisition and the various levels of heat they enjoyed applied to them. Yet - all of these peers had been relative newcomers to the Order themselves. Perhaps the presence of steak would be careless. After all, many of the persons he had observed upon the HoloNet who enjoyed such Nerf steaks had been portrayed as greedy, selfish, and members of an oligarchic or aristocratic organization. It would doubtless be an enjoyable experience for the participants, but he did not want to flatter them and thus push them closer to self-centered ideals and pride or to insinuate that they were vulnerable to such acts.

The side dish, then, needed to be something that implied the level of humility and selflessness that the Jedi were galactically known for, considered Kyr. A dish from home came to mind, and subsequent searches on the Holonet revealed that while the exact ingredients desired could not be found, a substitute form could be purchased cheaply. A sort of goulash commonly prepared for Serviles and for subservient members of society, but still nutritionally filling and tasteful, he hoped that the cultural meal would please the humble Jedi and guarantee that he played no part in their descent into darkness.

Other arrangements were made too: the purchase of a large table which then had to be hauled loudly into his dormitory, a short observational test about exactly what time the majority of his peers gathered for dinner arrangements, and the hiring of a scribe to publish his invitation was all necessary. Finally, though, after an entire day and a half of work, the dinner plans were made, and the invitation was hung in several of the more public portions of the Temple.

---

Fellow Jedi,

My designation is Kyr. I have joined the New Jedi Order only a few days ago, and am seeking to better acquaint myself with my new peers, neighbors, and esteemed teachers. To that end, I would like to invite any and all members of the Order to join me for dinner at my place of residence this evening from 17:00 - 20:00 hours. A full meal will be provided in accordance with dietary guidelines and should replace the necessity for a secondary meal at this time. You are welcome to let yourself in and to leave at any point within the boundaries of the listed meal time.

Full Hospitality is provided with the following rules:

1. No Physical or Verbal Combat
2. Offspring and lesser siblings are allowed but should be marked accordingly. Please designate important from unimportant children for dietary purposes.
3. Housewarmth gifts acceptable. Do not stack these gifts in a single location in order to avoid comparison and contrast and subsequent conflict.
4. No pets. All animals should be pre-butchered before delivery, and recipes provided if you intend for a specific dish to be made in accordance with standards of hospitality. Allow adequate time for these dishes to be prepared.

---

 

[Marcel von Ascania]

Creed had never been to a dinner party, but lack of experience did nothing to stop her curiosity and potentially misguided enthusiasm. Like Kyr, she too was a relative newcomer to the New Jedi Order.

The invitation had mentioned housewarming gifts, another area in which Creed did not excel. She’d spent hours at the market, wandering from stall to stall, trying in vain to procure something that would do. In the end, she managed a small victory when a shady-looking man in an alley sold the wide-eyed Padawan a rather benign looking blue flower. It was a strange place to sell flowers, she thought, and no she didn’t have need for any exotic animals, why was he asking?

Happy with her purchase, Creed skipped the appointed meeting place at 17:00 sharp with a beautiful but deadly potted flower clutched between two hands.

Kyr

 

[Dair Cotarin <inactive>]

Kyr | Marcel von Ascania
​

Dair stepped into the room reserved for the dinner party, so fresh from his shower that his hair still shimmered darkly with moisture. He'd been leading a class on tactics in combining lightsaber combat with force techniques in major battles to an intermediate class of Guardians and Sentinels. He'd gone from there straight into his own dueling practice and pushed himself as hard as he could. His Valkyri blood made him able to endure a lot, and it always felt good to find the limit, stretch it.

Now he looked forward to eating what one of the newest padawans had prepared and get to know them.

He looked around and found the host, he stepped up to the insectoid padawan and offered a low bow with a smile on his face.

"Before I partook of the fare, I wanted to make sure I offered my profound gratitude for the invitation. It has been a long time since I have seen such social ingenuity in one so new. I think it shows exceptional thought and care." He came up from his bow, his serene smile still in place.

 

[Auteme]

Kyr Marcel von Ascania Dair Cotarin <inactive> ​

Auteme was a busy person. She managed the New Jedi Order to some degree, including assignments and resources, along with the constant upkeep of both the Coruscant and Prosperity temples. Then there were her duties to the Senate; not only did she serve on a special committee, she also represented the New Jedi Order, and was ever the student of the likes of Chancellor Chandra in the political arena. Not to mention her own studies at the University of Coruscant, which she somehow managed to find the time for, beyond her own personal studies and interests.

Yet, despite the vast amounts of work she might have on any given day, she'd spent the majority of the past week preparing for the little dinner party the newest member of their order was throwing. Her waking hours consisted of perfecting a small sponge cake recipe and picking out the proper housewarming gift. A top-of-the-line pheromone translator and some high-quality Verpine vinyl seemed appropriate. Deciding had never been her strong suit, and thus she carried to Kyr's dormitory door a medium-sized gift bag along with her cake platter.

Though her decisiveness had not improved, her social sensibilities had. Unlike some others Auteme arrived a few minutes late -- though that might be taken as somewhat of an insult, she hoped the Moralin would see past her tardiness and recognize the signal that she wished there to be as little formality or 'dressing up' when it came to their relationship. Casual, informal, genuine; she wanted Kyr to know there were no expectations and only support.

All the people she'd badgered to show up tonight were a testament to that support, of course.

"Kyr!" She glided from the entrance, a wide smile on her face. She paused a moment as Master Cotarin expressed his gratitude -- though Dair was hardly a regular around these halls, she was happy to see he felt welcome. Those feelings would surely rub off on the young insectoid padawan. "Yes, it's very kind of you to host us. Honestly, it's not often we all just get to sit down- I brought some dessert, if that's alright."

She raised the platter, then glanced down at her bag. "I, ah, brought some gifts- do you want me to leave them somewhere?" Her eyes began to wander around the dormitory he'd made for himself.

 

[Ishida Ashina]

Of course Auteme brought gifts.

Ishida couldn't help but roll her eyes, and tighten the fold of her arms against her chest as she walked in after The Shield. She wouldn't be here if it weren't for the Knight's persistant oh-you-have-to-come, you-need-more-friends (rude), i-didn't-mean-that-but-it-would-be-nice-to-expand-your-network yadda yadda.

Still, there was some truth to the trying sincerity of the kind-hearted Jedi. And on top of seeing the benefit of stopping the nagging, Ishida managed to acknowledge the benefit that the girl she'd been before her rigorous conditioning might have seen.

"I hmm..." Ishida dropped her hands and attempting to open herself up just a smidgen. "Thank you for hosting.

I can help..." she furrowed her brow, contemplating "Cut up the desert. Or..anything else that needs slicing." She looked around at the unfamiliar faces. Some more hideous than others. Some spoke flowery, some were...carrying a flower.

It's fine. They were fine. She just nodded in all their directions, maintaining her laconic composure.

All she had to do was show up.

She didn't have to stay long.

In the meantime, she scooted to find a table unadorned with anything yet. Maybe this is where she’d put the gift.

Truly, she hasn’t known what to bring. But beyond the invitation, her mother had always said it was rude to show up empty handed. So, she placed the delicately wrapped in parchment paper box down on the table.

Auteme | Kyr | Marcel von Ascania | Dair Cotarin <inactive>

 

[Mrurh'en'lase | Hel]

Kyr | Marcel von Ascania | Dair Cotarin <inactive> | Ishida Ashina | Auteme
​

Dinners, feasts, and all manner of social outings were not Mrurh'en'lase's forte. She was not one to jump for these types of events and would rather spend her free time practicing her swordplay, chat with individuals on her myriad of holonet rooms, or even - dare she say it - read a book. Mrurh'en'lase was, by her own admission and enforcement, a simple woman who enjoyed her privacy and solitude, even when such things were detrimental to her health - physical and mental. Today would not be one of those days where she could get away with it, unfortunately.

Today was a day for celebration and festivities for the Jedi Order who were to become acquainted with yet another new member of its ranks. And apparently, Mrurh'en'lase's compatriots would be remiss if they allowed the young Padawan full of troubles to miss out on a chance to actually enjoy something outside of the battlefield. So, similar to Ishida Ashina, Mrurh'en'lase was dragged along by Auteme and a select few others. Most of them seemed younger than the hybrid by some years, although the advanced size of the young woman made many of her fellow Padawans seem younger - not that she minded, it allowed her to maintain a facade of superiority that she lacked since being inducted into the Order's ranks. Ah, how she sometimes missed those few months of running her own pirate crew through the outer rim.

But that was then and this was now, and now she stood alongside her cadre of poor souls doomed to partake in this feast heralded by the...gourmet...thing. Vyr, she believed he was called. Or was it Byr? She didn't know and cared so little to correct her possible mistake that she was oblivious to the Knight Auteme calling out the host's name. All that she focused on was the insignificant little thing that she had picked up as a housewarming gift during Auteme's own hunt during the build-up to the event. Unlike the others of her party - or at least most of them - Mrurh'en'lase was not afraid to go looking in the deeper levels of Coruscant to find gifts. Thankfully, it was on level 5113, not that far underneath Galactic City, that she found her gift for the...insect? Parasite? Another thing she was uncertain of and cared not to correct, but looking upon him for the first time made her immediately doubt the effectiveness her gift would have.

Still, after Auteme and Ishida had made their inquiries and set off to do whatever it was the host said in response, Mrurh'en'lase stepped up and handed him the small object that lay in her palms. It was an armband made of hardened black leather with gold rivets along the side to hold both layers together and a blood-red gem in the center. He won't even be able to wear it, she thought to herself as a cold nervous sweat began to form on her temple.

The words that she spoke were strained, yet another sign of her inexperience in these types of social events. "For your housewarming...gift...an...a bejeweled...armband of the Cilare from Vonak. P...presumed to be from before the...Yuuzhan Vong exterminated the species."

 

[Kyr]

Excitement and anxiety were partnered together in equal portions throughout the insectoid's body. On the one limb, he was exceptionally satisfied with the pre-dinner planning that had been conducted, and the care and attention that he had given to different aspects of the dinner seemed to have been reasonably effective, at least from his own viewpoint. On the other limb, he had spent every single credit in order to facilitate this dinner, and he supposed that there was always a chance that no one would choose to arrive at all. Perhaps they would be turned away by his appearance as many others had in the past, or perhaps they would take an affront to the fact that he had placed invitations in a sacred place for a measly meal.

Time passed by swiftly as Kyr worked to finish the preparatory meal-work. He had over-estimated the similarities between the substitute ingredient he had acquired for the Digoulash - that meal so often distributed to measly workers and lesser. At least the meal stuff had been quick to expire within the pan and stopped its nigh incessant squirming. He did not believe that the humanoids would enjoy the concept of a writhing meal anymore than he did, though perhaps they would find it endearing. He didn't dare chance it, preferring instead to continue allowing the maggots to swell with flavor and oil, to become crisp and crunchy as they often were at home.

---

When the first guest arrived, Kyr was swift to set down the pan and maneuver about the room to greet them. In truth, the massive table he had procured did little to grant mobility throughout the premises of the dormitory, but it was necessary to ensure that there was plenty of space for everyone to sit. There would be nothing more embarrassing than putting out a public invitation only to have so many persons arrive that they would need to sit upon the floor. Besides - if fewer arrived than he had chairs, then the extra furnishings could simply be removed and stowed away in a room corner.

"Greetings." He excreted, the translation device at the insect's hip taking in the pheromones and delivering the words in a formalistic monotone. While the machine did nothing to express emotion, Kyr was filled to the brim with joy at the prospect of receiving his first guest. Compounded eyes settled upon the small blue flower in the hands of Marcel von Ascania , acknowledging it as a house warmth gift. A very pretty and colorful piece of flora, Kyr considered, motioning with one of his arms to a place near the dormitory's sole window. A plant would require sunlight, after all.

"Thank you for coming. Please, sit, rest. The meal will be prepared soon." He iterated to the adolescent. He was not altogether familiar with humanoid growth cycles, but he thought she was especially youthful. Perhaps she had been dispatched to represent a parent? Kyr nearly asked before recalling the possibility that she was an orphan. Expressions of sympathy and kindness were the Jedi way, weren't they? Yet, he did not want to sour the mood by calling to mind the lineage of the youth. Perhaps he would make known his empathy for the loss when dinner had concluded.

---

The next guest came relatively swiftly after the first, this one a seemingly older figure if his only vague understanding of the humanoid form was correct. Kyr had seen this one here or there throughout the temple, hadn't he? This one was one who had been involved in some form of training or another, though the insectoid had not paid quite enough attention to their rough level of ability or talent. Were they a prospective warrior, or had they been involved in the educational portions of that training?

The insectoid clicked his mandibles together in surprise when the Jedi offered a bow to him. It was a curious gesture, and one that he had observed here or there, but its meaning was curious. He had assumed it was a sign of respect given from a student to a teacher, or perhaps even from a youth to an elder, but there was no indication that this was the case here. Kyr had only just joined the Order and was thus a novice, and even a simple knowledge of the humanoid growth cycle made it clear that this being was likely his senior by decades.

A sign of kindness, then? A test of personage? To see if he would swell with pride or if he would return the gesture to its rightful owner?

Dair Cotarin <inactive> addressed him, stating that he was grateful for the invitation and that he had perceived social ingenuity in the dinner offer. He even spoke of the expressions of care implied by the insectoid's dinner. At this Kyr did swell with pride in a way that he had avoided with solely the gesture. To be praised so greatly for such a simple work felt very pleasing to the insect. He had put effort into the dinner, and he was joyful that it had been perceived and acknowledged.

Though it was less than comfortable, Kyr bent his forward legs and placed his arms together in a way reminiscent of prayer. The insectoid's bow was far from graceful, but it was sincere. "I am grateful for your words. You are most kind. Please, sit. The meal will be finished soon."

---

Auteme

Even as Kyr raised himself from his bow and gestured into the apartment, he was surprised to find yet another trio of guests had arrived. He had been so focused upon the nature of the bow and the compliments that had been given to him that he had not even noticed the newcomers. The first pronounced his name, and then she too offered statements of gratitude about the invitation and highlighted that she had hauled dessert along with her. Kyr clicked his mandibles swiftly at the prospect of a sweet and tasty carbohydrate-heavy item.

"That is most acceptable. Thank you for the contribution to the meal." Kyr excreted, the pheromones converted into a monotone voice. Yet, even for the joy that he felt at the prospect of another foodstuff being added to the menu, he did question whether this signified a major mistake on his part. No kind of dessert had been prepared by the insectoid, and yet it seemed as though it was proper that one be offered. The insect's shame would be known later when the call for desserts was made - perhaps it was best to let it be known now in the hopes that the remainder of the meal would wipe away the innate negativity that would come with his declaration.

"I apologize. I did not make a dessert item myself. I was incorrectly convinced that such items were culturally regarded as a temptation. Many HoloNet resources are written about resisting the compulsion to consume sweet items and to thus prevent weight-gain. I was mistaken." Kyr iterated once more, lifting his arms up to his face in order to conceal it and thus exhibit his shame at the error. The question of gifts seemed peculiar given the errors he had already made, but he knew it would only be a greater inhospitality to refute a guest's question. "Please, place them wherever you wish. And - take a seat at the table's head - you have prevented me from a greater shame. It is proper."

---

Ishida Ashina
Kyr made a point of lowering his limbs from his face once Auteme had entered the premises. It was important for the two companions she had to recognize that he was not inadvertently being shamed by one of their activities. After all, while he had doubtless ruined his opportunity at making a good impression with the first of their trio, there was always an opportunity to change the opinions of the others. The next of those to step forward was notably exceedingly white. It was, instantly, the first thing that caught Kyr's attention.

The insectoid glanced at his own arm, observing the nature of the transparent skin that covered his arm, the way that veins and arteries could be seen within it, the glassy way that it only slightly distorted what was within his own body. Kyr raised his eyes once more to the pale flesh of the woman, acknowledging the somewhat similar colorations. Still, she was not transparent like he was - he could not see through her skin and into her organs. It was a shame because he would have taken great interest in such a thing. From a purely academic standpoint, it would massively simplify his examination of humanoid biology if he could avoid any kind of vivisection or autopsy and simply watch her body function.

She spoke, offering her thanks for hosting, and Kyr took the opportunity to present his finding. "Thank you for arriving. You and I are similar. That is good." He spoke, the monotone of the vocalizer making his observation known. There was a brief offer of providing cutting services. Perhaps it was proper among her kind to make themselves useful at the onset of a feast? He did not necessarily need a great deal of assistance, but perhaps he would allow her to cut the Digoulash when it had finished baking within the oven - after the maggots had crisped, it was important for them to be baked under layers of pasta and cheese.

"If you wish to cut, I will provide a knife when the meal is ready - you may cut it if you wish. It would be useful." He spoke, observing as she gingerly made her way into the apartment and settled at the table, apparently leaving her gift there as well. Curious - Kyr had not thought about putting gifts directly on the table, but it was in line with his standards of hospitality and was thus fully acceptable.

---

Mrurh'en'lase | Hel
The last guest to enter - the last for now at least - was also notably eye-catching. They were quite large to the point of very nearly matching the height of the insectoid, and they seemed to be covered from top to bottom in musculature. The sheer physicality of their form seemed to possess a presence all of its own. While the others likely held coveted positions with the Order, it would be difficult to determine exactly what it was they did without more careful observation and questioning, but there were no doubts about this one. This one was a warrior, a guardian, and doubtless one of the fiercest fighters in the galaxy.

While the others had made a point of presenting their gifts and then settling them somewhere inside, the gargantuan figure before him chose instead to simply press it into his possession. Kyr brought his arms together swiftly, the sharp hooks at their ends carefully pressed against one another to avoid ripping apart the bracelet as he accepted it. He had seen vaguely similar forms of adornment on others throughout the galaxy, but he had never held one for himself. It was a difficult matter to maneuver it given the difficulties that his kind had with grasping, and so most were not particularly inclined to such items.

Kyr accepted the gift but was not altogether astonished at it until the warrior made known its origins. It had been taken from a slaughtered people, one that had been driven to the point of utter extinction by way of conquest. For an instant, Kyr raised his compounded eyes to the Jedi and questioned internally whether she was a member of this Yuuzhan Vong - whether she had participated in the slaying. It was a fierce thing to wipe an entire race of people from existence, but he supposed that on a galactic scale it had probably happened before for good reason.

There were connotations to this gift, though. It was an accessory that was doubtless meant to be worn, but given by the warrior, and to him it seemed to carry a message too. What was the message? The most obvious seemed to be 'you are a kind who kills, and so you will find the macabre interesting'. That was... truthful, if not somewhat founded in the logic of bigotry. He did not believe that was the message, was it? Perhaps it was a kind of acceptance. That in spite of the inclination's of his kindred to slaughter they would be accepted regardless? Were there Yuuzhan Vong within the Order? If so, then it was a hopeful sign.

Of course, if they had all been killed, then it could be a mark of death. A decree against him that he would end up much like the Cilare.

"I have never had jewelry before. I will wear it regularly." Kyr spoke, sliding the armband upon his upper arm, carefully and gingerly pulling upon it with his other limb until it was affixed into position. "You are very large and seem very strong. I am honored to have such a capable fighter in my residence. Are you stronger than the others here? Please, come, sit. The meal will be ready in only a few moments."

---

The tell-tale beeping of the oven summoned Kyr to the kitchenette, and he went about the process of carefully opening the doorway of the oven, allowing the heat to burst out in a swathe across his face. With great care, he pressed the hook-tips of his arms against the ceramic container containing the Digoulash, and promptly began to haul it out and onto the stovetop. It was exceedingly hot, of course, but the hook-tips were designed for slaughter and possessed very little in the way of nerve endings; so long as he did not keep them against the ceramic, he would be fine.

A glance at the still-sizzling nerf steaks revealed that these too had been well-done. There were several of these piled onto a platter, each one a very slightly different level of completion. Those at the top were the most cooked while those at the bottom were the least. That way any unwanted meat juice that seeped out of the steaks would only impact those meats below it which already possessed similar liquids. He'd made certain that none of them were raw - but the couple at the very bottom certainly skirted the line between 'very rare' and 'rare'.

One at a time he began to bring over the implements of dinner, the tin plates with their handles embedded into them, the packages of silverware that had been never been unwrapped before, and the glasses filled to the brim with chilling ice. Kyr considered opening the window for a moment to make certain that his pheromone secretions wouldn't cause any discomfort - but perhaps the noise of the Coruscant skylines would cause more distress than the faint odor.

Kyr settled the steaks at the center of the table, and the Digoulash beside it. The Digoulash in truth looked something like lasagna. A coating of baked cheese ran over its top, and then a layering of pasta below it. Below that, still concealed by the container, were the crisped and seasoned maggots that served as protein, and then another layer of pasta.

"Please - feel free to prepare your plates. I will fetch some drinks. I have water, a few forms of juice, and a Corellian Ale - low alcohol. What drinks are preferred, and I will fetch them?"

 

[Ishida Ashina]

One by one, the insectoid addressed the arrivals. Personalized salutations and acknowledgements. It was warming, and within she felt a foreign sort of stirring.

Ishida watched with an uncharacteristic doe-eyed expression. It was as if the hardened face of Sardun's crusader of Light had been remodelled back to the nascency of younger Ashina. Under the guiding wing of her mother's benevolence and incredible hostessing spirit.

All that warmth cooled quickly when the other Padawan identified they shared a likeness. And it took every ounce of her mother's influence to not completely pale or tense up. Her mouth twitched, making a shape as if she were about to speak before clicking her teeth shut again.

What did they have in common?

He'd observed himself, so it must have been something about their appearance.

"Oh.." Ishida started...trying not to upset him. Her tone lifted, mimicking a chirpiness her mom used when her guests were about "Good!" It sounded forced, and she winced. "Though I assure you, you're far more hospitable than me."

And then he said she'd be useful and that warmth returned, feeling marginally less foreign.

She nodded once, curtly.

When they all went to take their seats, she leaned next to the person beside her. If she and the bug were similar...she'd...try to make that true.

"I like your hair." She complimented the blue-haired teen, and poked at the knife next to her plate.

The food looked incredible. Juicy, fragrant, delicious. It reminded her of home.

"Wow." Her desire to eat betray her, and the words just slipped out.

She pointed to the cheesy plate. "That looks like you might need some slicing, is that what you had in mind Kyr?"

Kyr | Auteme | Marcel von Ascania | Mrurh'en'lase | Hel | Dair Cotarin <inactive>

 

[Marcel von Ascania]

Kyr - Dair Cotarin <inactive> - Auteme - Ishida Ashina - Mrurh'en'lase | Hel

When the door opened, Creed did not expect to come face to face with a Moralin. Nor did she know what a Moralin was—she’d simply expected, as she’d seen so far, for the new arrival to be more humanoid. At the greeting, the initial shock faded from her face and was replaced with a spacey, albeit genuine smile.

“Hi.” She said. “I’m Creed. Hope you like the flower!”

The young Padawan stepped over the threshold and placed the potted plant on the appointed window sill, adjusting it carefully in a way she thought would be most flattering. By the time she’d taken her seat, several more guests had arrived.

While seated, Creed swung her dangling legs beneath the table as she observed the partygoers. One of the Masters, a large man, had arrived shortly after her. On his tail came a young woman with a sunny disposition bearing gifts. A pale-haired sylph followed shortly after, and it had gone over Creed’s head that they were offering to help their host. Creed’s wide eyes were drawn by their most recent addition—a woman with purple skin, large in stature.

In time, their host had laid out the evening’s fare and guests filled out the table in the small dormitory. Creed found herself seated next to the quiet girl, who’d complimented her hair.

“Thanks!” She chirped brightly. “I lost a bet.”

When she’d mentioned cutting into what looked like a casserole, Creed raised her plate.

“Oh, that looks good. I’d like some of that, if you don’t mind!”

 

[Auteme]

Kyr Marcel von Ascania Ishida Ashina Mrurh'en'lase | Hel Dair Cotarin <inactive> ​

"Oh- you know, they're for special occasions," she insisted, trying to minimize what little shame Kyr might have felt. "Certainly a Jedi thing, to avoid temptation, but we'll give it a pass for tonight."

She smiled encouragingly -- only for her jaw to slack when she heard of Hel's gift. A Cilare armband? Gold rivets, and- a Vonakian ruby? That was immensely valuable not even counting the cultural significance. For a moment her head spun with theories on how Hel had gotten her hands on such an item, but soon she smiled again. She didn't know Hel well, but she could feel the twinges of nervousness radiating off the woman. The way Kyr responded was hopefully enough to assuage her fears, or better yet, encourage her to continue being generous and friendly to those she met.

Auteme had a moment's pause before nodding at Kyr's offer. Her indecision refused to allow her to reject it, despite her internal insistence that the host sit at the head of the table. Still, she hoped Kyr did feel welcome, and less 'shamed'. After wandering over to leave her little gift bag somewhere in the den, she went to sit at the table.

Once more her indecision bit at her -- she worried that if she brought up her own dietary preferences, Kyr might feel as though he had made a mistake. For now she just sat, waiting for someone to tell her what was actually inside the Digoulash (she certainly wasn't taking any of the meat).

"A glass of water, if it's not too much trouble," she said.

 

[Dair Cotarin <inactive>]

Auteme | Kyr | Marcel von Ascania | Ishida Ashina | Mrurh'en'lase | Hel
​

Dair took the portion of the Digoulash nearest him, smiling softly at those around him as a general feeling of reticence suffused the area. He had eaten many things from many cultures through the years. Some he would rather not have again, and others he found surprisingly delightful. His home culture on Midvinter had some delicacies that he had found quite odd when reintroduced to them.

Not wanting to draw out the awkward feelings of those around him, he cut into his portion and popped a piece into his mouth. The crunch followed by a rush of juices was unusual. He was fairly certain from both the identity of their host and the peculiar textures in the dish that he was eating some form of insect.

But it wasn't bad. A bit bland for his own tastes, he'd grown to enjoy the spicy dishes of the desert planets over the hearty meals of his people, but by and large the digoulash was tasty.

He swallowed his piece and smiled warmly at Kyr.

"This is quite delicious. There is a flatbread I've had on Jakku that I think would go lovely with this. I believe made with roasted garlic." He was of the mind that garlic would make most meals better, with no upper limit to the amount of garlic. He paused for a moment, wondering if he should keep the others in suspense or not. "The protein is quite hardy, it's been a while since I've had similar. Thank you for sharing it with us." He then cut himself another bite and popped it in his mouth.

He had decided that a bit of impromptu diplomacy training for everyone else wasn't the worst thing that could happen.

 

[Mrurh'en'lase | Hel]

Kyr | Marcel von Ascania | Dair Cotarin <inactive> | Ishida Ashina | Auteme ​

The young Padawan smiled graciously - albeit smally - as the insectoid host took her gift with surprise and curiosity, showcased by his careful handling of the accessory. Others in the room seemed similarly sparked with such emotions, much to her silent gloating mixed with worry that she had upstaged everyone in a situation that upstaging would be heavily frowned upon. Before the warmth of knowing that he enjoyed it, she could tell by the way his eyes raised for a moment that he may have considered it...offensive in some regard. She had seen such expressions many, many times before and it always poorly - then again, that was usually with Hutts, Kaleesh, Kintans, and an unsavory four-eyed bipedal race from somewhere in Wild Space. A race that started with a 'B.'

Thankfully, the host was different and he slipped the armband on with great care to its design and ensuring he did not tear it apart with his appendages. However, this was still not enough to break the young woman out of her nervousness in public situations, and when he spoke, asking his questions, Mrurh'en'lase shut down verbally and merely shrugged, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her loose-ish pants. She maintained this closed off demeanor for the remainder of the time spent welcoming guests known and unknown, and then joined them all in sitting down to enjoy the meals prepared for this auspicious feast. Well, auspicious for everyone not purple and built solely of muscle and angst.

She sat in the farthest chair from everyone else at the corner of the table, watching with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows as everyone engaged in small talk - either with each other or the host. Mrurh'en'lase didn't care for small talk. If anything, it only worsened her anxiety in social situations because she had...well, she had absolutely nothing to small talk about. She despised talking in general, actually. It made her bones itch, her forehead sweat. Why did Auteme get her to come to this thing? She wondered this in silence, but almost asked it aloud just as the food was brought out by their host.

What was laid down on the table is certainly what kept her from deciding to cut her loses and leave prematurely. Everything was absolutely delicious looking and made much of her anxiety vanish behind a deep hunger. Perfectly cooked, seasoned, steaming. The steaks, a tower of differing cooks and cuts, was the most appetizing in the traditional sense while the lasagna-looking thing invoked a more exotic desire of taste. Mrurh'en'lase helped herself to both dishes, carefully and abruptly retrieving a slab of very rare steak from the platter, marveling at the perfect cook and dripping, bloody juices. The young Padawan slapped the slab down onto her plate and then retrieved a slice of the lasagna-looking thing, immediately becoming aware of the...contents inside of its covered in cheese and oils and pasta noodles. She took the first bite from the lasagna-looking thing, a large square chunk that crunched with each bite.

As expected, it was one of the best things she had ever tasted in her life, and she had tasted real Kaleesh delicacies on Hutta, one of which she was almost positive was fried Yam'rii, although she never confirmed that it was. It was salty and meaty, and the cheese was just sublime while the noodles brought everything together into a fragrant taste that she had rarely had in her life. Yet, she only grunted in approval at her host for the pasta dish and, when he asked if drinks were needed, said: "Corellian Ale. Three glasses."

 

[Kyr]

Kyr watched from the kitchenette for a brief moment as the guests he had brought into his home interacted with one another, occasionally engaging in small-talk, or beginning to work of filling their plates with foodstuffs. A few were swift to the act of retrieving meals, but the insectoid too was quick in making certain that a knife was available for Ishida Ashina . She had made it known that she had a desire to cut into the Digoulash after all, and he wanted her to feel appreciated and welcome. If allowing her to contribute would do that then he would make certain it occurred.

"Yes. It is Digoulash. Please carve it so that each of us may have some." He said, the monotone of his translator failing to pass along any of the excitement and joy that he felt at the progress of the dinner party. Among Force Sensitives whose very Order promoted understanding of others, though, it was doubtless a simple thing to feel radiating off of the Moralin.

Some portion of him desired to express the nature of the Digoulash, to disclose its ingredients, and more importantly its cultural significance to those present. By sharing more about his own culture he might be able to coax information out of each of his guests about their own inclinations. Even now he could see that not all members of the New Jedi Order were exactly the same - a few were very expressive and open while others were more stalwart and resolute, but each of them had their place. A stream with too few stones would wash away, but a creek bed filled with only stones would become dry and useless.

Kyr took careful hold of a glass of water, curling his forearm back inward on itself to hold it between the interlocking joints there. To the humanoids, it might've appeared that he was holding it by his elbow, but in truth, he was keeping the glass between his forearm and upper arm. The one known as Auteme struck him as a very humble soul to request such a simple drink. After all, it was not as if though there was a lack of water throughout the temple or the planet. Clever systems had been designed to allow for the procurement of the life-giving liquid in most areas of the world - even the pests and vermin in the undercity didn't struggle to find their own drinks.

She would doubtless enjoy the Digoulash, then. It was a more fitting meal than the steaks for someone who considered themselves to be a part of something greater. The insectoid shuffled back, his quadrupedal body forcing him to get fairly close to deliver the drink to her. Planting his arm onto the table before her, Kyr uncurled it, allowing it to straighten back to its full length but without the glass. With a nod - he had seen a great deal of nodding on the Holonet and it seemed an expression with a myriad of meanings, he twisted around to fulfill the next drink request.

This one came from Mrurh'en'lase | Hel . The purple-skinned warrior had seemed rather untalkative when he had questioned her previously about her martial ability, but he supposed it might also be an expression of humility in its own right. After all, he was unaware of the hierarchy of those present, and perhaps it would be an improper assertion to claim that one was mightier than a superior. Or, perhaps she was one of those few who had accustomed themselves to violence, but who found the entire ordeal to be irrefutably wicked. Occasionally some faced a sort of psychological war against themselves - forced to use their talents to save others while still struggling with the inevitable death that came with conflict.

Kyr wouldn't force her to speak to the others. He would be mindful of the possibility that she struggled against a foe that could not be beaten with staves and swords, or perhaps that she had suffered some mental trauma that made it difficult to interact. Anxiety could be expressed in many different forms, and among his brethren he had seen many of them. After all - beings without the will to make their own decisions would occasionally crack and splinter under the pressure of genetic-imperative. One could not fight nature without consequence.

The insectoid took the request for three glasses perhaps a tad more literally than intended. When he arrived back at the table he carried within his appendages a trio of glasses along with the bottle of Corellian Ale. Gently he began to spill the low-alcohol beverage into each of the glasses before sliding all of them toward Hel. Never once did he question the reason why she had requested three separate glasses. Perhaps she would spill one on the floor to offer it to a higher power - he had heard of some religious acts like that in the past. Floors could be cleaned, he reasoned, but divinity should never be squandered.

Requested drinks provided, and a few more provided near the center of the table in case refills were needed, Kyr curled his legs, taking a place beside the table. Sitting in one of the provided chairs was an impossibility for someone designed in the way he had been, and so he simply sat at roughly-level ground with the table. He could still see over it thanks to his height, but most of the dining room's inhabitants could now look down at him with relative ease. That was fine - height dynamics didn't bother the Moralin.

Kyr turned his attention to the mighty Jedi warrior Dair Cotarin <inactive> - he noticed now too that he was quite tall in addition to whatever physical prowess he had suspected previously - as he took his first bites of the Digoulash and commented on the taste. Joy flooded through the Moralin at the compliment, and he could not prevent himself from a brief "Thank you."

He listened raptly as mention was made of a flatbread on Jakku that could apparently couple well with the Digoulash and which would provide a greater synergy of flavors. "Bread is a wonderful addition to many meals. Perhaps you could show me the recipe sometime? Is it made a specific kind of grain?" He questioned rapidly, happy to discuss a topic near and dear to his heart. There was mention made of the protein of the Digoulash and Kyr nodded once again - the gesture seemed appropriate, but if it wasn't, someone would surely tell him.

"I am grateful that you enjoy it. I apologize that I have not shared more about it. It is called Digoulash." The insectoid reached out for his own plateful of the substance as well as one of the medium-well nerf steaks, gingerly moving one of each by means of a series of imprecise fork-stabs. Holding such silverware was exceptionally hard for the Moralin, but he didn't want to insult anyone by directly touching the food until it was on his own platter. "It is a common meal on my homeworld. It is a humble meal provided primarily to subservients and especially to Serviles." He said, directing his attention to the purple-skinned woman and to Dair in particular as he clarified that it was: "Not a meal without honor. Many subservients continue to eat Digoulash for some time after they are orphaned."

Kyr possessed a notable advantage over his humanoid guests when it came to glancing around the table. Compounded eyes meant that he did not need to turn his head noticeably to look at Marcel von Ascania who he suspected of potentially being an orphan. He scanned her briefly to see if he noticed any evident changes in facial expression, but since he did not need to actually turn to look at her it must've seemed as though he were not paying any attention whatsoever.

"The Digoulash is made from pasta and a covering of cheese on the top as well as the fried larvae of an insect commonly found on my homeworld. They are cooked beforehand to ensure they are crispy and seasoned enough before being put into the dish." He said, addressing the table as he revealed the nature of the "lasagna". "I know the Jedi care much for remaining humble, and so I thought that it would be an acceptable side-dish to go with the Nerf steak. As I understand it, the steak is far more common, but also carries connotations of luxury." He explained to no one in particular.

With the meal discussed, the drinks passed around, and plates steadily filling, the insectoid reached carefully behind him for a small item placed on a shelf. With great care, Kyr began to unravel what appeared to be a pair of smooth white cloth rags. They had been sewn together at the top, but left untouched at the bottom, allowing them to sway like leaves with every motion. Slowly, Kyr made a point of spreading the cloth contraption over his mandibles, concealing the side of his cheeks from view.

"I apologize if this is an oddity. I do not want to subject anyone to the sight of my chewing." He admitted, making sure the device was harnessed correctly to prevent the others from the uncanny view of food being chewed within his mouth and subsequently digested. A misfortune of preparing transparent skin was that everything was visible. With the help of the table to block his lower body, and the cloth to block his mouth, he hoped that they would be spared the uncomfortable sight of digestion.

"Tell me, please. What is the New Jedi Order like? What can be done to make oneself most useful?"

 

[Marcel von Ascania]

Following the motions of Master Cotarin and Hel, Creed eagerly shoveled a bite of the digoulash into her mouth. A hum of appreciation followed—the cheese really tied it all together.

While eating, she listened idly to Kyr’s explanation regarding the cultural significance of the food. Abruptly, she stopped chewing.

“This is made of bugs??”

As if to highlight her point, the Padawan picked an insectoid leg out from between her teeth and stared at it in wonder.

“Isn’t that cannabilism?” She blinked at Kyr with guileless eyes, her tone innocent and lacking any accusatory note. She was genuinely curious.

With her fork, she speared another square of the digoulash on her plate and continued to much away. Though a full mouth, she spoke; “That’s a pretty bracelet, by the way.” Using the same fork, she gestured to the gifted band Kyr wore and smiled at the Amazonian purple-skinned woman.

As a newcomer herself, she left the question about the Order to the more experienced Jedi.

Kyr - Mrurh'en'lase | Hel - Dair Cotarin <inactive> - Auteme - Ishida Ashina

 

[Ishida Ashina]

Oh, great. The blue-haired girl was only aesthetically unique from the loss of a bet. She was a loser.

Ishida tried not to let her face visibly fall, but she cleared her throat and tried to focus on being helpful and go ahead with the slicing she'd promised.

There was little resistance offered from the dish to her knife, and she cut and distribute with the go-ahead from their host.

Much to her surprise, she was hungrier than anticipated. Perhaps the scents had whet her appetite, and hungrily, she dove in. Her bites were small and delicate at first, gratefully, enough to stop mid-chew through the conversation.

Bugs. Cannibalism.

"Uh..." she paused, swallowed, and hovered her fork above her plate. The dialogue over the bread was all well and good, but the conversation about the other dishes left much to be desired. A lady does not spit out her food. Her mother's voice smoothed over her mind, and she forced a swallow down, reached for her water, and nursed it long enough for the conversation to transition.

"Tell me, please. What is the New Jedi Order like? What can be done to make oneself most useful?"

She had...several opinions.

But instead of her father's aggression bubbling to the fore, she set her glass down and leaned back in her chair. Smoothing her skirt over her legs.

"What is it you like to do?"

Auteme | Mrurh'en'lase | Hel | Dair Cotarin <inactive> | Marcel von Ascania

 

[Adonis Angelis IV]

There were bright lights and loud noises swirling all around Adonis, the roar of the city planet was almost deafening to the soldier. The cold steel ground was much different than the hot dunes back home, here he could feel the vibrations of everything around him, the heartbeat of the city. It had been his first time off the planet Jakku since he had arrived there twenty-three years ago. It was such a culture shock for him that he often didn’t even know how to speak to people, which lead to some embarrassing conversations at the local Alliance garrison.

The new Alliance recruit had been sent to bustling Coruscant to ensure all of his vaccinations were up to date and his vitals were stable. It was confusing to him, however, that they couldn’t do the tests back on the outpost on Jakku. Much to his displeasure, Adonis had spent the better part of his morning being poked by several needles and having his blood drawn to the point he had to lay down for a few hours. The Alliance medics were honestly flabbergasted that he hadn’t received a single vaccine in his entire life. They told him he had to report back in tomorrow for more tests and shots and he would have to stay overnight to ensure his immune system didn’t go into shock from all the side effects. So they told him to live up his one night on Coruscant, since he would be able to for the rest of his stay planetside.

What does a man who grew up with sand and guns do on a planet made from silver and light? Well first, he doesn’t ask anyone where he should go. He may have already lost fifty credits to a street hustler who assured him he couldn’t lose, but even Adonis wasn’t dumb enough to let people know he was a tourist. He kept his blue alliance fatigues on most of the day, but he didn’t want to be in them all evening. The medic mentioned something about a local bar within a mile’s walk from where he was being housed. Maybe he would try that out? No matter what, he would have to get over his initial shock of the city if he was going to be fighting wars across the galaxy, not every skirmish would happen on a sand dune after all.

Within a moment of wondering, however, his personal device got a ping, it was a random invitation to a dinner party. Most people might suspect it to be spam, or a trap. That being said, Adonis had never even owned a personal device before so he didn’t know any better. This seemed to him like a perfect opportunity to meet some people and get out of the harsh lights of Coruscant. The party was supposed to start soon, however, and Adonis was sure it would seem rude to show up in fatigues. The soldier hustled back to his apartment to grab something else to wear. Luckily for him the location of the dinner was not too far away, he wouldn’t be too late.

After changing into more casual clothing- a dark button up shirt issued to him from the military, and a dark pair of pants to go with it, Adonis slicked his hair over, brushed his teeth, and left. By the time he stopped to pick up a bottle of wine from the bodega he was arriving just in time for people to start eating. He felt rude when he arrived, likely having to interrupt those who were already eating to let him in.

“Adonis Angelis, sorry I’m late.” He spoke into the comm system. He held the bottle of wine in his hands. He hoped it was a good bottle, or that wine was even allowed at these events. He was quite new to social gatherings, but this is what they did on all the old holos he had seen.


Kyr

 

[Auteme]

Kyr Ishida Ashina Marcel von Ascania Mrurh'en'lase | Hel Dair Cotarin <inactive> Adonis Angelis IV ​

Bugs.

Auteme stopped chewing, slowly moving her fork to prod at the digoulash on her plate. The lump that currently sat in her mouth grew heavy. It wasn't that it was bad, or that she found bugs distasteful -- it was excellent, just as bugs tended to be -- but rather her own dietary preferences. She probably should've sent ahead with a message to Kyr, but it was too late now. She had to figure out what to do.

Her eyes shot down to the small bag resting by the front-left leg of her chair. She could dispose of things there -- but how? So many eyes there, and she couldn't very well prevent them from looking at her. Even if she tried for a distraction, she'd need to concentrate on that for a bit, and it'd need to distract everyone long enough for her to get to her bag... not to mention, she was sitting at the head of the table.

She stilled, her head drooping just a millimeter. For all her cunning and wisdom she saw no way out. Defeated, she prepared to swallow-

A name, over the comm.

Adonis might just be her saviour tonight.

Her gaze snapped to Kyr, waiting intently for him to head to the door.

 

[Juniper]

Jamie's first mistake was believing Juniper would stay in their rooms. A promise was not a promise if your fingers were crossed when you made it.

Duh.

Their visit to Coruscant had been filled with many adventures. ...One of which she was trying to forget... If only her Master would do the same... But anyway! Their exposure to other jedi had been minimal. Truth be told the duo were visitors to this temple; when she had had the option to interact with other padawans her age she had grown quite shy. ...It was silly, really... she didn't want to talk about it.

Nevertheless. Her master brought them here for a reason. Jamie had left to address ... things and she had been left alone. In their rooms... bored... wondering how so many floors could stack on top of each other...

She knew for a fact that you could only stack five people in a human pyramid before you fell, but this place had to have, what? At least ten floors. She had set out to count.


The smell of food drew her forward.

When the door opened for Kyr he would see two people standing outside. Juniper peered around Adonis Angelis IV 's back, her eyes as wide as saucers as she found the table filled with food.

She liked food.

Those wide eyes shifted back to the bug at the door. She waited a beat, until the the stranger was let in, and then she stepped forward with him. She was totally with him. Yup. Her head ducked in a very clear attempt to avoid speculation.

"Thatsmellsdelicious," she greeted, the uninvited padawan trying to bolt for a seat.

What Jamie didn't know wouldn't kill her.

 

[Kyr]

It was a pleasant sensation to see all of the others placed at the table, taking bites of the Digoulash that he had carefully prepared for them, and genuinely seeming to enjoy one another's company. He had been warned before leaving his homeworld that the galaxy was filled with a great deal of rage and anarchy, that there were always going to be trouble with the non-insectoid variants of sapient life, because they would perceive his kind as a threat. Here, within the bounds of a simple temple dormitory room, however, there were no facets of violence, no pangs of distress or sorrow, and certainly, no indication of that chaos had run rampant.

It was orderly and polite, and genuine. Kyr loved it. It was the sort of place he had always sought.

Of course, a lack of physical and verbal altercation did not mean that the night would go along perfectly. Few things were rarely perfect, and a dinner hosted by an individual just barely discovering humanoid dining etiquette and a band of Jedi would not be an outlier from that simple truth. The youthful female who had identified herself as 'Creed' immediately questioned whether or not the consumption of the Digoulash would constitute cannibalism.

Cannibalism was a wretched thing, even to his kind. Occasionally necessary, but certainly more likely to cause disease from a purely physiological standpoint, and socially repugnant to boot. Did she genuinely believe that the minute maggots that had been baked into the dish were infant members of his race? Did that not constitute too an accusation of murder? Did she think that they were merely Servile animals, and thus their elimination for the sake of sustenance was completely acceptable?

"Do you believe I have committed murder to feed you?" He answered her question with his own. While the monotone of the vocal translator could conceal emotion, he did feel perturbed and bristled slightly at the insinuation. If he had been more accustomed to the tones and conversational cues of the humanoids, he might have noticed the innocence surrounding her question - but he was not, and he did not.

He was so irritated by the prospect that he did not even notice the following compliment about his newly acquired bracelet, the trinket dangling unaided from his limb even as he focused his full attention on the blue-haired girl.

It seemed the albino ( Ishida Ashina ) had also desisted in their consumption of foodstuffs at the implication. Kyr's compound eyes could see it all... every aspect of the dinner. Were they bothered too by the accusation, or were they simply uncomfortable with such taboo topics? Kyr was disappointed that he had not explicitly stricken taboos from possible subject matter. Next someone would start talking about genocide or slavery or some other uncouth and uncomfortable galactic reality.

The white-haired woman seemed to be a more apt diplomat than her blue-haired compatriot. Instead of insinuating terrible things about him, she instead chose to answer the question he had previously uttered - though she did this with one of her own. It was nevertheless quite successful in shifting the attention of the insectoid to more kindly thoughts. What did he enjoy doing? He had performed a great deal of administration and management, but that had been for the sake of efficacy, not joy. He enjoyed cooking... but that was not a matter of work. The New Jedi Order certainly did not have a need for a caterer.

"I enjoy making deals. Negotiations are enjoyable. Asserting one's own will while contemplating the desires of another... it is a curious puzzle." Kyr finally responded. "I try not to enjoy fighting. That path leads to more violence. Still, I appreciate when evildoers are punished." That was less an activity and more just a personality quirk, he supposed.

The sudden sound at the door was something that even Kyr's compound eyes had not foreseen. The insectoid finished swallowing a mandible-full of Digoulash, making sure it had fully passed into his abdomen before he stood, carefully removing the cloth cover he had used to keep his face concealed while he ate. It seemed that more guests had decided to arrive - that was good. The greater amount of variety that could be found in the room's occupants, the greater number of viewpoints he could understand at once, and the greater number of social connections he could make in the process.

There stood a pair of individuals - one a man dressed in dark and holding a beverage that was almost certainly alcoholic - people didn't put regular drinks into glass containers. The other was almost certainly the offspring of this male visitor, a tiny female. Notably, she was completely lacking in any kind of badge or marker which indicated that she was related to him. Perhaps he simply could not see the indicator? Surely they had not missed the rules... it must've been there somewhere. (Juniper)

"Greetings. I am Kyr. Please - enter. Take a seat wherever you wish, eat whatever pleases you." Of the two available items, he thought, though he didn't bother to specify that.

Curious. Why was Auteme staring so hard at the bag near her? Was something within it? Had a small pest managed to enter into the establishment? She had already saved him from some embarrassment... perhaps he ought to pay closer attention to it to make sure nothing assailed her.

The insectoid gradually made its way back toward where it had been seated, keeping its compound eyes locked onto the bag, very clearly providing surveillance - that way Auteme would feel as though he were watching out for her.

"What is the name of your offspring? They slur their words... are they a Servile?" He said, directing his questions back to the newcomer Adonis Angelis IV .

Mrurh'en'lase | Hel

 

[Adonis Angelis IV]

The anxiety of waiting at someone’s door was overwhelming in new social situations, especially for someone like Adonis. This was his first time meeting anyone since leaving Jakku that wasn’t Alliance military or a Jedi Master. The young soldier had been visited by a few Jedi while he was recovering from his injuries sustained when the Alliance liberated his planet. The Jedi marked him as Force Sensitive and before the military even had a chance to sink their claws in him, Adonis had been given the privilege of training in the Force. Had he trained in anything yet? No, but, he had been given access to their comm channels, hence the invitation arriving on his comm unit.

The feeling of anxiety was soon replaced with a tinge of fear as a young lady appeared behind him. Adonis usually wasn’t one to be startled, but the sudden presence of a teenager did give him a jump. “Well hello, glad to see I’m not the only one who is late. My name’s Adonis, you are?...” Before she could answer, the host had opened the door, drawing Adonis’s attention back to the dinner party. Trying to hide the surprise of seeing the Moralin answer, Adonis chuckled, “Sorry again for being late.” Though Kyr had likely become accustomed to people being taken aback when first meeting him, there was no need to be rude about it.

“I brough some wine, do you want me to put it on the ta-“ Before he could finish, the strangest thing happened. Kyr had assumed that the girl, whose name Adonis hadn’t even learned yet was his daughter. If Kyr had thought the look of surprise on his face when he met him was large, he would have thought the soldier had gone into shock after the last question. Adonis was only twenty-three years old. The solider knew he needed to start doing a skincare regimen, but did he really look old enough to be a father to anyone, let alone someone who appeared to be in their teens?!

With wild eyes, Adonis scanned the table ahead of him with the rest of the guests, giving them ‘an are you kidding me’ look. “Uh…” He simply said, blinking a few times and looking back toward Juniper. “I mean…” He was completely dumbfounded on how to answer this question. “I don’t really know her, but she seems nice enough.” He gave an awkward grimace before returning his attention back toward Kyr. “Hopefully you have enough room for two more people?”

Kyr Juniper Ishida Ashina Auteme Mrurh'en'lase | Hel Marcel von Ascania