Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Like a Sardine

Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania

She was polite, but didn't seem to commit to the question of offering lessons.

Perhaps Cora wasn't interested.

Sion didn't try and force the situation. Maybe he'd be able to ask again later. It would be nice to know which fork you had to use, what knife was suitable for what occasion, things like that. But he didn't wanna make her feel pressured. She was already so kind and deserved that sort of kindness in return, didn't she?

"Oh, really? I actually met one of her other Padawans a while back." He thought back to Briana Sal-Soren Briana Sal-Soren , she had been kind enough to show him to this very cantina, in fact. It seemed to be a running theme that the Sword of the Jedi's padawans were nice people.

"Well, you might be a Padawan, but you are already well on your way as far as I know!"

After all, wasn't half the measure of a Jedi their kindness and patience?

A little gentle shrug. "General Osarla Ridor Osarla Ridor of the Nova Corps." More General than Jedi Master, Ridor was as tough as a brick and as large as a mountain. "She saved me when I was captured by the Maw and... I guess she felt responsible for me." The feeling of being a useless weight around her neck was fading compared to the early days.

"She is... a real force of nature. Like a large mountain, unyielding and fierce." Sion smiled a little. "I don't think I will ever be like that, but... I am not sure where I would be without her."

Probably another corpse in the Maw torture machine, but that wasn't polite dinner conversation.

"Do you think they know each other?" Thoughtful there. Sion hadn't ever asked if Osarla knew the Sword of the Jedi, but surely they did? Perhaps not quite at 'have tea with one another', but...
 
Cora smiled graciously at Sion's complement, a bit of pride breaking through her courtly exterior.

A thin blonde eyebrow arched in concern at mention of the Maw, but she kept any horrified gasps in check for the time being.

Head canting to the side, Cora listed intently to Sion's description of his Jedi Master. For a moment, she closed her eyes and tried to envision the woman—which was difficult to do practically, given that the elder Padawan had not delineated her physical features beyond her physique. Still, the picture that her mind drew was an abstract depiction of strength and ferocity.

Cora opened her eyes and smiled tenderly.

"She sounds like an incredible Jedi, and you sound grateful for her guidance." She observed. "I'm not sure if they've ever met, but I'd imagine so. Even in passing."


"You said that she saved you from...the Maw?" Cora's tone was gently probing, but she'd retreat if that seemed like something he'd rather not touch.

Sion Lorray Sion Lorray
 
Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania

He nodded happily there.

Osarla Ridor Osarla Ridor was a whole lot of Jedi. Even if she didn't seem very comfortable with the label these days. He supposed it was difficult for a person to wear two hats at the same time. General and Jedi. This wasn't the old Republic times when the Jedi were assigned to be the leading Marshals of the Clone Army. It was entirely separated and that added complications, he was sure.

"She... did, yes." Sion nodded there and chewed the inside of his cheek slightly. The only hint of anxiety that he quashed almost immediately.

It was easier now.

"My old Master and me were captured by the Maw. He... was killed by them. I was... well." He gestured gently towards his eye. "They were busy with me, let's just say." Trying to smile there a little. Easier, yes, but not easy yet.

"Master Osarla saved me and then took me under her wing."

There wasn't much else to say, so he remained quiet.

Or perhaps there was more to say but Sion wasn't sure how to say it. How do you describe the torture and agony? The shame of losing his first Master? The appreciation of being saved and taken under Osarla's tutelage? The nightmares? Feeling like you didn't belong and that more worthy people should have been saved instead?

"How's... the food?" An awkward attempt at diverting his mind and the conversation in one swoop.
 
"O-oh…"

Cora tried to clear her throat. She hadn't expected Sion to reveal something so darkly personal, even if he was trying to be vague. The blonde Padawan came from a world where unpleasantness was often smoothed over with well-crafted, honeyed words, or ignored entirely.

"I am…very sorry to hear that happened to you, Sion. I can't imagine what you've been through. I am glad that Master Osarla brought you back."

The words felt awkward in her mouth, but her eyes reflected genuine sympathy. Cora’s hand twitched, and for a moment she thought to reach out to him in comfort. Another foreign gesture that she was largely unfamiliar with.

Out of politeness for Sion, she tamped down her burning curiosity and stilled her hand. The Maw being busy with him and the scar on his face were telling enough. Maybe they weren't related, but she had an inkling that they were.

"The food is…most acceptable, yes." She agreed.

One could not complain about the quality of free sustenance.

"Say, Sion, if you were serious about those etiquette lessons…" She began carefully, searching his face for any hint that he'd thought it to be a joke or otherwise unwelcome.

"I'd be happy to teach you the difference between the various types of cutlery involved in a proper dinner. After all, Jedi to tend to be invited to important galactic events. It would simply be irresponsible of me to allow you to attend such gatherings without knowing how to conduct yourself properly!"

She'd picked up steam as the idea went on.

"…If you are comfortable with such a thing, of course."

Sion Lorray Sion Lorray
 
Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania

A little brittle chuckle.

"It's okay. I am here! If I hadn't been... well... you know. We wouldn't have met and wouldn't that be sad?" This was the way that Sion rationalized it. If he hadn't been captured. If his Master hadn't been murdered. If he hadn't been tortured. Then he wouldn't be sitting here right now chatting with someone friendly like Cora. He would most likely never have met Cordé Sabo Cordé Sabo either. There would have been people unhelped by him. Sure, it was a chitty deal, but optimism helped sometimes.

Seeing things from the bright side.

He was kind of caught in his own brain after this. So, Sion didn't immediately realize where Cora was going with it. But then he did. And he looked up quickly and grinned.

"Of course I was serious! I have like two left hands when it comes to etiquette." He raised his hands up to indicate them. They looked fairly normal, perhaps even slightly elegant. Thin, graceful fingers, made to play the piano or some delicate string instrument. Certainly not hands that were forged for war or battle.

Funny that.

"Perhaps you can also teach me how to properly walk? I saw a video... they had like... a book on their head? It looked kinda goofy, but afterwards they had a great posture!"

Oh, Cora's enthusiasm was infectious and it became a feedback loop. His empathy catching it, igniting his own, and in turn sharing that back with her.
 
"Oh yes, books are often used to maintain proper posture." Cora agreed, gesturing towards Sion with her fork in agreement. The excitement between them regarding proper etiquette seemed to be building, which reminded Cora to lower her fork down to the plate.

Her shoulders seemed to straighten a little, too.


"Back at my home estate, my sisters and I were made to balance books atop our heads whilst walking. It helps to straighten the back, keep the eyes forward and elongate the neck. Of course, that was only during etiquette lessons—we didn't simply walk around everywhere with books on our heads!"

She giggled for the image. Finishing lessons had never been her favorite, but Cora took pride in her carefully crafted aristocratic conventions. So far, Sion had been the only other Padawan who'd appreciated them.

"Perhaps we can procure a text from the library for practice."

From talk of sparring to gentlemanly etiquette. What a range.

"Will your Master be alright with such an...unorthodox extracurricular, though?"

Sion Lorray Sion Lorray
 
Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania

"Oh, you have siblings? How many?" Curious there. The idea of having a family sounded always fun to Sion. A father and a mother, who took care of you and never abandoned you. This was pretty stereotypical. The concept of siblings was a different beast altogether. They were like... copies of yourself, female and male, of younger and older age, with the same parents. Who each was trying to become their own person while having the same sort of lessons and experiences.

It was strange to Sion.

Then again, the only thing he had to go off were HoloStories.

"That would be fun!" And since Sion was a common visitor to the Jedi libraries he didn't foresee much issue. The librarian would probably not like them using the books to balance on their heads, but she would most likely not ask about it. Not if Sion checked them out. But perhaps she'd be suspicious of a young noble lady.

Didn't every young noble use those books for balancing after all?

"Oh..." Brows furrow and then he shrugged gently. "I... don't think my Master really knows what to do with me. She is more the 'School of Hard Knocks' and that is not really me, you know?" He thought back to the first sparring lesson Osarla Ridor Osarla Ridor had tried to go through with him.

It had not been successful. At all.

"But she is trying her best and I love her for it."

Then Sion flushed a little bit. He had never used the L-word yet. He'd die if Master Ridor had an inclining that he considered her as close to a mother figure as was possible. Though, perhaps a father figure.

"Do you uh..." Trying 'subtly' to mooooove on from THAT subject. "...want to go to the library and fetch a book now or are you busy after dinner?"
 
A brow arched as Sion mentioned that, for all of her efforts, he loved his Master. To Cora, that was a very sweet sentiment.

"I suppose that The School of Hard Knocks does not offer sufficient courses in social etiquette, then?"

It sounded rude, but Cora's polite tone and airy smile indicated that she was simply trying to make conversation. Something that she herself had perhaps not yet mastered the art of.

"Ah—I simply meant that, despite having a dedicated Master, we tend to learn from those around us, do we not? I am sure that your Master Ridor is an excellent teacher."

Padawans has classes for a reason, and it wasn't uncommon for them to receive instruction from individuals outside of the own Master.

With that thought and a slowly swelling ego, Cora offered Sion a bright smile as she rose from her seat.


"We can begin our lessons now, if you're finished."


Picking up her plate and cutlery, she made her way to the designated bin to deposit them.


"I am the oldest of eight." She answered his question from earlier as they walked. "Large families are not particularly unusual where I am from."

Sion Lorray Sion Lorray
 

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