Private Byssal Order's Up

[Naniti]

LOCATION: Byss, The Core, Covenant Space​

Near the top of one of the largest towers in the city resided a large, two level condominium. Richly furnished, but with an interior decorator's touch, the abode was surprisingly homey or warm. It bore contrasting dark and light hues alike to take full advantage of Byss' unique ambiance that poured in though floor-to-ceiling windows. They were VIPs of the Sith Covenant, after all. Acquiring one of the finest places for even a brief stay hadn't been difficult. People in power weren't half as stupid as most believed; they knew the Sith had free reign in every conceivable way. Appeasing them allowed people to live longer. Simple.

There'd been time before Lysander von Ascania arrived though. It allowed Naniti the opportunity to read the report she'd gotten her hands on. Maybe the Sith Lords weren't inclined to humor a paperwork inquiry, but they were 'willing' to give a Togruta access to the database where she could get whatever she wanted. Maybe what she wanted had nothing to do with the Covenant's present aims. It was just one report. No one would ever even notice or care.

She'd fallen asleep on the couch after reading the pad now on her chest.

When her blue eyes slid open, Naniti slowly sat up and pivoted to drop her feet to the floor. "Sithspit," she sighed. Despite a failure to resolve matters in a world within the world, the Togurta's fingers took hold of the data pad to set it aside calmly. Figured she wouldn't get it right the first time. It was so incomprehensibly vast. It was going to take time and a lot of attempts to figure out the right combination. The fact it was so far in the future didn't help either; so many variables to account for, Naniti expected many efforts would go awry long before the pivotal moment.

On her feet, she paused to look out the windows at the city with its slender towers. This was a world made for the Sith. Not that all of them knew it, but its history had been shaped by them before. Its reconstruction had brought back some of its vibrancy that had been lost, but a miasma of the Dark Side hadn't fled that region of space yet. It might not be the obsidian of the Deep Core any longer, but it wasn't a pristine diamond either. More of a teal sapphire anyway.

Nasty eating habits though. Some artisanal flare, which Naniti found influenced some of their culinary world, but the lay person seemed to like ordering 'foodstuff' from off world. People actually liked that stuff. Not that she couldn't eat it, but too many sweets and barely-recognizable-as-food products made her sick. Not to mention the after taste. How did people stand it?

In any event, she'd purchased some ingredients for a local dish that sounded health and delicious. It'd be good to eat in. Less people to overhear what they discussed. You could never be sure how many spies were listening. Naniti might be a humble Apprentice, but she was a humble apprentice with access. Made her a target for adversarial spooks. Plus, the two of them might be more inclined to talk about things others shouldn't hear about.

Maybe they could even just sit back and... Naniti glanced at the door before she looked back out the window. Well, he'd be there soon, anyway.

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti​

The journey back from Ukatis clung to Lysander in unexpected ways. Though not typical of Sith, there was a softness brushing the edges of a hardened spirit, a knot once bound tightly finally loosened. If only slightly. The gift of being able to hold his niece, Luciana, feeling her tiny fingers wrap around his thumb with pure trust, stirred something long forgotten. To her, he was something safe, unaware of the darker deeds he had wrought across the galaxy in recent months. Temporarily, maybe. Or maybe not. So far, he purposely avoided examining it too closely..

The planet was beautiful and dangerous, a paradox that only Sith worlds could conjure. But.. Byss had its own flavor of darkness. Not the void which haunted much of the Deep Core now, nor the cruel austerity of Korriban. Something different. Whatever it may be, Byss didn’t feel quite as heavy as it should have..

The day's second training block always arrived on schedule. Morning and night.. without exception. A cadence his violet partner probably memorized by now to the exact hour. Even closeness needed its counterbalance. Whether that made him some creature of habit or someone holding tight to discipline, he wasn't quite sure. Perhaps a bit of both. In the end, it hardly mattered. Just as apparent was how he found himself buried in holotexts lately, anything to keep his mind from wandering down the wrong path.

Running.. roadwork, really.. was a pillar he built himself on. Never random, and far from leisurely. Structured threshold work. A dance with discomfort. Lysander thrived in this structured chaos. Honest data offered him their own sanctuary, quantified effort that granted clarity. Heartrate, distances, time.. all truths that would never lie or betray.

Nearing the finish, he stole a glance at the watch clasped around his wrist. Good wasn't enough; excellence was the baseline. And hitting the mark was never the end. A strong pulse thrummed in his chest, the very rhythm he'd worked hard to achieve. Beads of sweat traced paths down his face while breathing gradually slowed.

An hour passed by, ample time to collect his thoughts and begin anew. The elevator ascended smoothly. Upon reaching the top floor, an access card slid through the reader with a soft beep and granted him entry. Stepping inside, fingers found a towel left by the door, pulling it across a damp neck and the final droplets of his run. Eyes raised slowly, landing on the couch first, then shifting to the window where she stood.

The span of a few meters stretched between them until he closed it, halting just shy of her side. He traced the horizon beyond the skyline. "You're thinking too hard again," voiced in a slow, thoughtful murmur. "Let me in a little." The city faded and his attention circled back to her. "Or don't. Just.. let me stand with you while you sort it."

 

[Naniti]

Naniti slowly turned her head to look over at Lysander with one of her lekku drawn up along her shoulder as she did so. A second passed before the Togruta actually smiled at the damp man that'd come crawling back to her. "There's a lot to think about." She reached up to lay a hand on his upper arm. "And it isn't trying to anticipate what might happen, but what will happen. The longer the journey, the larger the map." How could she possibly remember every step, word, or deed necessary to reach a conclusion? Provided she could find the right conclusion. Maybe if she had a super-power of perfect memory and a complete lack of ego.

"Lys, I don't think we've ever really... talked about how I see things." Naniti's expression fell as she looked off to the side for a moment. "I told you I was," a grimace or scowl flickered across her lips, "different as a child. Saw the world differently. People didn't understand." Her eyes slid back over to him to see if he remembered that conversation. It'd been just a mention in a ballroom. "That's because I saw things before they happened. I saw them how they could happen if I influenced them. That is how I 'cheat.'"

With that she stopped and stared into his eyes, curious what he would think. She didn't go around telling anyone about her ability. It was difficult to tell Lysander, but he deserved to know. He needed to know. So much reside on his shoulders because of the Lords' lack of interest in mundane activities. They had the entire Core to control and manage, and for the most part they just didn't care -- long as the ships and the bombs and the meatshields kept coming for their wildly wasteful strategies of willingly marching them to destruction. It was truly absurd, but Naniti only cared because of how Lysander tried to balance things. He needed someone. She only hoped, perhaps, knowing she wasn't just another lightsaber that it might help him bear it all.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

The towel draped loosely from his fingers, hovering in that afterstate which heavier exertion always left behind. Emptied out.. and sharpened all the same. The familiar chemical storm still hummed beneath the surface, leaving Lysander alert and nearly defenseless. Seven kilometers. A five-thirty-two pace. Those numbers resided automatically for a few seconds longer before simply.. scattering.

Springing from some well, his own smile surfaced, before he could even grasp where the Togruta's words would carry them. The conversation could have been grim for all he knew, but by then it would have been too late. A foolish habit in most rooms.

He gave a small nod as a crease formed between his brows. “I remember,” slipped out slowly. Back on Jutrand, he let it remain a curiosity. There was another tell from the banquet table that night he hadn’t forgotten either.

“You’ve been sending me signals ever since," Lysander added thoughtfully. “And I’ve always been wrapped up in everything else to understand you as I should have.”

He could've fabricated plenty of excuses. But the truth was, those small journeys they shared before the Covenant charted its course toward the Core were among the few pleasant memories experienced since departing the Mid Rim years ago.

A quiet sweep of the room was taken before his recalibrated focus landed on her eyes.

"Some leaders spend their whole lives trying to develop that kind of insight and never quite come close. Is it more like seeing branches on a board, or more like feeling currents pulling toward a certain outcome?”

There were also Sith who would kill to possess that kind of awareness.

“You don’t need to worry about me repeating anything, Naniti.”

Gently, his hand reached across and settled atop hers for a breath, before drifting apart. “You know.. I can’t remember the last time we actually had a quiet evening. Looks like tonight's that night."

 

[Naniti]

Naniti gazed up into his eyes thoughtfully. Lysander's admission was actually appreciated. Sure, not exactly what a woman wanted to be told they hadn't been the number one priority in all things, but given the choice between Completely Oblivious and Aware if Needing Work the latter was better. Hopefully he wasn't so open and honest with those he needed to manipulate as part of his duties though.

The Togruta turned and stepped in a little closer, but not too close with him still being all hot and damp. The tip of her finger pressed against his chest. "Branches because I do see them. And hear them. And feel them." Slowly, her eyes fell to his chest and the smile softened. "Even the unpleasant outcomes." Suddenly, her eyes darted back up and the smile sharpened. "You'd be surprised how many ways you can royally screw up on a battlefield if you really try." Sometimes she couldn't resist exploring the What-Ifs that weren't meant to guarantee victory. Risks to explore how far things could be pushed. "Like... practicing how to hit a cue ball and learning all the ways you can scratch."

"That's sweet, Lys. I really wanted you to know." Because she wanted him to ask for help if he needed it to avoid the worst outcome. She hadn't forgotten Korriban though. If anything, his bullheaded desire for self-determination or self-reliance meant it would be more a struggle to convince him to ask for help rather than worry about him abusing her ability.

Wide-eyed, she gaze up at him as he spoke of them having a quiet evening together. "That's why I got some local ingredients so we could eat in. And from the look of things, you're going to need that protein."

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti​

Calm came effortlessly here, free from the poise worn in more rooms as of late. The space bridging their gazes was gentle. Patient, attentive.. and even grateful. Most Sith were ruled by impulsive emotions, and he understood that truth didn't always arrive as comfortable company, even when delivered with pure intentions. But.. Naniti did have a way of drawing truths out of him. At times, he wondered if that might be another ability entirely.

“So.. it isn’t just sight. You’re.. experiencing them.” His brow knitted slightly, betraying the mind’s inner workings while considering the emotional toll her insight must exact. “Do they come all at once, or one possibility at a time? Or.. how does it shape the choices you make in the moment, knowing the road ahead is never.. singular?”

The concept she described sounded almost like delicate art, a burden, and a gift.. intertwined. Remarkably, she kept her own calm voice amid it all. Or so he'd always believed. How did she decide when to intervene.. or to let fate unfold? Of course, he didn't wish to bombard her with a flood of questions so soon.

A downward glance traced the touch she applied before meeting her again. “I'm wasn't going anywhere.”

Then a soft mm escaped him, thoughtful at first. Lysander shook his head once under his breath. “So you, like.. train yourself by testing disaster in theory, to avoid it in practice.” The Togruta was regarded with a curious tilt. “It’s almost a kind of dance, isn’t it? Teetering on the edge of chaos just long enough to understand it without falling in.”

“I’m glad you’re on my side of the board,” came a moment later.

The mention of ingredients tugged at his attention. Naturally, he was never opposed to a little reconnaissance when curiosity hit. The kitchen was only a few steps away, after all. Being versed in warfare and diplomacy didn’t make culinary any less compelling. Someone had stood somewhere deciding which flavors belonged together and which did not.

“What did you decide on?”

Lysander wanted the story. Her story.

And if he was going to reap the rewards, he ought to earn them.

"Do you need another pair of hands in there, or should I stay out of the chef's way?"

 

[Naniti]

Naniti nodded slowly as Lysander contemplated what she'd said. "The closer to 'now' the more that overlap. Which is why I had difficulty adjusting as a child. I could see every next step everything around me was going to take simultaneously. Which isn't as jumbled a mess as you might think, but nothing is quite in focus either." Static objects such as words on a datapad or buildings were far less painful to look at.

The Togruta then shrugged with a smirk. "The road ahead is never singular, Lys. I just part the fog laying across it and its forks from time to time." The smirk softened. "It can change everything depending on the choices ahead. But I can only see what's around me and influence what's in my control." Foreknowledge was foreknowledge, but it didn't mean she knew what everyone was doing or why they were doing it. "Can't just pop into the High Republic Chancellor's office and learn what their military plans against us might be, for example." She could cheat, but didn't have a wall hack.

"Woman's got to find something to do in her free time," she quipped in response to her 'training.' Better than wearing a proverbial hole in the rug envisioning the same hting over and over again when she closed her eyes.

"Remember that the next time you play sabacc." Naniti chuckled.

Brows rose and the Togruta stared as Lysander offered to help. "I'd like another pair of hands in there..." A hand rose to take his other arm to encourage Lysander to turn and then she'd gently press against his back. "But first you need to shower. You're not cooking anything all smelly and drenched in sweat!"

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti​

The explanation settled piece by piece. Silence belonged because he was busy assembling a better understanding. Most were given the luxury of anticipating consequences only after they got older. “That sounds less like seeing the future and more like learning how to live inside possibility itself.” Perhaps that was why she tolerated his antics with such patience. Or at least that was one of the conclusions he reached.

“I think your control of it is the impressive part. Seeing possibilities is one thing. Accepting that you can only influence the ones within reach is something else entirely. Most would probably spend their time trying to force the fog away everywhere at once.”

He didn’t doubt what she said next for a second. Naniti could probably bleed him dry of credits at a Sabacc table without much effort.

The beginnings of a smile returned. “Or,” offered lightly, “we could just run game on the entire Core.” Because he trusted her instincts more than the shuffle of any deck.

A nudge from behind steered him toward the hallway, and a laugh bubbled up. “Ah, so that’s how it goes. I offer help, and suddenly I’m reassigned to sanitation?” he called over his shoulder

Another step carried him forward and both hands were thrown up in surrender.

“Fine, chef. I’ll report back once I’ve passed inspection.”

 

[Naniti]

"That would be truly maddening," Naniti replied with all due seriousness to Lysander suggesting people might try to see every possible outcome at once. It certainly had nearly driven her mad with frustration and rage before she had any sort of proper understanding or control of it. She could only imagine someone finding a means to copy her power and immediately turn it 'on full.' Might be the last thing a person ever did before their brain overloaded.

Then she managed to get him headed in the direction of the shower. As he took her 'advice,' Naniti called out after him, "No health and safety violations. I run a clean kitchen."

The Togruta stood there for a moment longer even after he might slip from view. Maybe it he hadn't been all sweaty she would have hugged him. So, he should take her advice and maybe he'd still get one.

In the meantime, Naniti would set out the ingredients, organize and clean them, and then set out some of the dishes and utensils necessary. Plenty of prep to pass the time so Lysander could help with all the actual cooking. It wasn't every day she cooked with someone. Wasn't even everyday she cooked for someone. Really, only Lysander, actually.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

Steam curled from the refresher as Lysander stepped out. Water had washed away the salt and grime from the roadwork. A towel swept once more through his long hair despite any wishes for quicker drying. The clothes he’d traded into were simple. Loose trousers, a lightweight athletic shirt. Something comfortable that didn’t belong to emissaries, knights, or whatever titles were affixed to his name lately.

Sneaking up on a Togruta was, by all accounts, a questionable endeavor. He’d come to understand that their montrals acted like natural radar. But.. he was used to odds stacked against him. And of course, curiosity won out. Still.. it was an attempt worth making.

Well, he did carry a few shadowy skills passed down through a couple generations of Sith in the Order. They'd even granted him what he needed to eliminate the king of Ukatis once. But calling on them now would probably be a bit too much.

Bridging those final few steps from behind, his arms slipped around Naniti’s waist. There was no hurry or pressure in his touch, only warmth that drew her back into his presence. Lysander’s chin found a spot atop her shoulder as his eyes drifted toward the countertops.

“Good news,” delivered slowly with a smile, “I’m officially certified kitchen safe.”

After a moment more, with a soft sigh, he eased his embrace and settled effortlessly beside her. "Well," added with a casual roll of the shoulders, "where would you like your assistant to begin?"

 

[Naniti]

If Naniti sensed Lysander coming, the violet woman didn't make any move to show it. Her head lifted as his arms wrapped about her without warning; blue eyes slid to the side in his direction as he made himself comfortable. "That is good news. Even better news," her right hand lifted the chef's knife from where she'd been busy preparing the meat, "I didn't reflexively stab you," the Togruta added happily.

When he unwound himself, Naniti made an effort not to sigh along with him. It was nice to be held like that. Wasn't like they were in a hurry. He could have lingered longer. Not that she blamed him.

"Well, I could use help cutting those vegetables. If any of them aren't to your liking, feel free to toss them." They weren't exactly the pinnacle of fine dining, personally speaking, but they could add to the flavor and begrudgingly had some nutritional value. "What kind of base should we have with it? Rice? Noodles?"

Not quite as nice as being held, this moment where they weren't on the verge of going to war or putting their lives at risk was enjoyable in its own way. It wasn't a ballroom dance, or skating on an ice rink, but it was the same company. The one that mattered. And no one to watch, impress, or worry they might tattle to their favorite Lord.

"How often do you make your own meals, Lys? Any meals you specialize in?" They so often had banquet cooks or street vendors to service their mobile, culinary exploits.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti​

The knife cradled in her hand drew his awareness in. A tool, sure, but also a sly little weapon. From the blade, his gaze meandered upward to her, green shifting into a lighter shade. This wasn’t the first brush with a warning cloaked in half truths.

“You had me from the doorway, didn’t you?”

A slower drift carried him back across the counter, where their colorful assortment lay. “Well, I guess there are worse ways to go,” the blonde mused with a coy smile. An odd sort of honesty really. Certainly better than being taken down by a Jedi.

Fingers wrapped around a knife of his own. Some vegetables were colorful, others quirky in shape. A few lacked any real charm. But that didn’t mean they were useless; maybe not tonight, but someday. Discarding any effort the Togruta invested in selecting them felt wrong.

The reply came while carving through another piece. “Rice.” Warmth hummed in his throat. “It holds everything together, gives it something to come back to.”

Without conscious thought, a few ingredients were nudged aside. They fell into rows. An enthusiast of order in all things, some might say.

“Nothing I’d call a specialty. I've probably spent more time repeating the same meals than learning new ones.” Thankfully, his freighter hadn’t transformed into a traveling collection of tupperware. “That all started way back on Korriban, long before Spore Industries ever came into play. I guess some of that stuck. There’s something to be said for the same thing over and over.. makes things feel simpler than they are.”

The next slice didn’t join the others, offered in the small space between them for inspection. “I’m sure none of it can compete with that jamja you mentioned before.” A crease touched his cheeks. “Do you have a go-to dish you fall back on?”

 

[Naniti]

Made things feel simpler? That was an interesting way to think about it. Naniti couldn't find a fault with it, and hadn't really thought of it that way before. "You know what you need. You know how long it'll take. And you know it'll keep you going." The Togruta nodded. "That's a good plan." Well, it depended on what the dish was, but she'd assume it was something nutritious.

Painted brows rose as her blue eyes regarded those presented for consideration. A nod followed suit. And a smirk up at the 'surprisingly' capable kitchen assistant. Imagine that, Lysander knew how to use a blade.

A throaty hum followed when he asked about a go-to dish. "Meat." Obviously. "Grease." Flavor, non-stick, tenderness, surface tension. "Salt." Dash of flavor, but a carry over from when the salt wasn't added after the fact. "Simple, but effective. Makes it easy to rough it in the wild when you aren't so used to herbs, spices, and sugar to make things palatable." Naniti finished with dressing up the meat and set the knife down before she looked up at Lysander once more. "My original Master wasn't a gourmet. They trained me so I didn't mind the lack of luxury provisions."

"Still, it wouldn't have killed anyone for Deservo to have had some amenities." Just because she could rough it didn't mean Naniti took every opportunity to do so. The condo they currently occupied should have said as much. Fair bit better than taking refuge in a shrubbery.

They could begin transferring the ingredients over to the oven. A sauce sat in a bowl nearby for them to help bring it all together.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

If his mind wasn't playing tricks on him, Naniti's reaction looked a lot like approval. Not that he was about to let it inflate his pride or anything. An almost bashful laugh slipped from him before he pivoted back to the board and dived right back in.

The next cut was a touch thinner, but the one after would even out. Then the spine of the blade drew the pieces together and organized more rows. Without thinking, Lysander's thumb brushed away moisture from the flat.

Some of what she said sounded familiar in a way that didn't need to be examined. Modest portions of protein, a sprinkle of carbohydrates, just enough to hold the body together between an endless cycle of trials.

"I get where you're coming from. Finding ways to manage with what you have is a skill that often goes unnoticed. But if you can make something work like that, you're not dependent on anything else."

The last of the vegetables yielded. "You know.." Softer, almost under his breath. "We don't really have to operate like that anymore. The Core affords us a few more options than Desevro ever did."

Sure, tonight already was already proving as much. But.. it felt worth saying out loud. "What’s the version of that dish you’d actually want to eat? If you could pick anything."

Improved living conditions didn't mean their training would lose any edge, so long as discipline was the compass.

Gathering the array of ingredients, he transferred them to the tray, his hands spreading them as they landed, giving them comfy space so nothing was crowded.

Lysander's attention drifted to the bowl of sauce, then back to the Togruta. One brow arched like he might've already suspected the answer. "Is this where you stop me if I start experimenting with our dinner?"

 

[Naniti]

Naniti looked over at Lysander as he added softly they didn't need to live like every luxury around them might vanish suddenly. After he finished her blue eyes turned forward and then down at the meat she'd sliced. She rearranged the pieces on the cutting board with the knife as if the task needed done.

Didn't they? Lysander thought the Core had everything they needed. Better than Desevro. More like that of the world he'd grown up on, perhaps? Maybe, when she'd been a young child, she'd had the same comforts. Similar enough. But the only time she wished to recall was after being freed from those trappings and taken in by a monster that understood her -- not out of care, but interest, and Naniti had held that interest long enough to build a life for herself. Everything could fall away in an instant, and she'd be ready for it. The strongest winds and the most turbulent storms wouldn't drag her under.

Lysander hadn't grow up like that. She should tell him, but it'd just ruin the moment.

"And we'll take advantage of those options," she replied with a small smile as her eyes rose back up to meet his. They didn't have to forego showering just to 'be ready' if some day they didn't have one within reach. Food and drink rationing and tolerance, however, was a more perishable skill given a long enough period of acclimation. Still, she hadn't tried to keep their meals bare and basic whenever they had traveled. It was... a risk, but things didn't feel quite so bad when Lysander was around.

Then he asked a strange question that had Naniti stare. "I don't know, Lys... We've had plenty of dishes with good and bad seasoning, vegetables, noodles, rice. Some of those were nice. But if I had to choose... What kind of dish do you want?" Maybe it'd help if she knew what people usually said in times like these. What was an ideal dish?

As they gathered up the ingredients, he had a more jovial question to add. "This is already an experiment," she corrected with a smirk. "It's a local recipe that didn't sound disgusting. What did you have in mind?" Just because it was a local thing didn't mean something couldn't be added -- or removed -- from it. The Togruta was far from a recipe purist. All she demanded was that the food taste good -- and include plenty of meat -- was that so much to ask?

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

Doubt was a foreign guest, and never worn openly, especially before those of the Light or Dark, and whatever political creatures he crossed paths with. But while watching her work for a moment, it arrived all the same. He wondered if Naniti ever sensed those moments when his mind stumbled when he tried to decode more of her world. Even so, there was gratitude beneath that, that he could try at all.

Maybe she did; their worlds had bridged often enough, and the distance between them had never felt like a chasm. And the Togruta’s smile pulled him back from retracing the last few steps in his head.

Something warmed the lines of his face. Comfort wasn’t exactly his native terrain, at least not in a long while. But the idea of testing some of these options and comparing notes didn’t sound so terrible though.

“There is no right or wrong answer, Naniti.. I just asked because I wanted to know which would bring you joy.” Some Sith might pretend joy wasn’t part of their vocabulary, but that didn’t make the sensation any less real.

For a second, he almost thought she was dissecting his words again. Not that he really minded when they got turned over no different than the ingredients before them.

A soft hum threaded into the air. “Mm. Nothing drastic.” Lysander’s mouth curved to answer her smirk. “I suppose one variable at a time. That’s how good experiments start, right?” Palms brushed against a towel on the counter, then he held it out to Naniti. “You’re contaminating the workspace. Those hands are a whole violation waiting to happen.”

Leaning casually against the counter, he also stretched out to nudge the wooden tasting spoon closer within her reach. Tiny things, but they let him stay involved.

 

[Naniti]

"Joy?" Naniti's brow rose as she looked over at Lysander. "Any meal with you is enough for that." Alone, she wasn't quite the aficionado. She was still particular about how her meat was prepared though. As from that 'joy' had never much factored in to meal preparation. It was something that needed doing in order to remain fueled for the important things.

"We don't have to minimize variables." They weren't conducting a scientific experiment. Well, Naniti wasn't. Just what kind of 'not drastic' variable had Lysander had in mind? "I just hope these people have a good sense of taste."

Then she stared across at Lysander as he held a towel out toward her. "Alright. Now how's the health inspector? Here, put it on my shoulder," she turned slightly to present one toward him, "I'll wash my hands first." Not a bad idea to keep herself and the utensils clean. The Force could fix a lot of things, but that didn't mean a person should leap into a viper pit expecting the Force to do all the work.

Hands wiped, she turned back around and made a show of picking up the spoon he nudged. A slow waggle in the air followed. "Who am I supposed to be threatening today?" Perhaps it was Lysander as she gathered up a taste and held it out for him to sample. Though Naniti hoped it'd taste good. It didn't smell bad, anyway.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti​

This was the very first time he'd ever heard say that word aloud, and honestly, he wasn't about to interrogate her about it either. Though the Togruta might've insisted that food was just fuel, Lysander had already glimpsed a few smiles from her tonight that could've said otherwise.

There was a hint of humor wove effortlessly through his voice. "Minimizing variables is optional tonight." It was true, his mind was finely tuned to see order, and might have overlooked what was said earlier if she hadn't nudged him to notice. Warmth threaded through the green of his irises. "I'm not trying to turn dinner into a tactical mission. And if these people lack taste.. that’s their problem, not yours.”

“Don’t worry. I’m grading on a generous curve tonight.” Lysander slowly draped the towel over her shoulder, then paused to gently brush one corner down with his fingertips, as if he were ensuring it met some exacting criterion.

A gentle chuckle slipped from the blonde’s lips as Naniti waved the spoon in his direction. “Threatening? I’ve been completely cooperative up to now.” His head tilted in playful concession. “Besides, I’m trusting you not to turn that spoon against me.”
The utensil hovered between them only a second more before his fingers grazed hers, leaning in closer. As the flavor settled on his tongue, he chose to savor the initial impression.

Gradually, the flavor unfolded.. saltiness that gave way to sweetness, along with a hint of spice somewhere at the back of his palate. "You've been holding out on me, haven't you?" Some of the magic was still waking up, little by little. "Careful, Naniti. I wasn't ready for it to be that good on the first try."

Fingers slipped away, leaving the spoon pointed in her direction. "You might like it even better than I did." An uneven curve found his mouth. "And that's saying something.. I liked it way more than is reasonable."

 

[Naniti]

She really ought to be trying to unlock one of several mysteries. Peering into the future. Divining answers to life-altering questions. It was what she did when her attention wasn't enveloped in training or buried in a book. No one else did what she did -- far as she knew -- which meant she needed to explore the possibilities. With so many outcomes and countless decisions leading to each one it was far from easy. Or relaxing.

But it could all wait a little while long. Naniti always felt that way when Lysander had time to spend with her, and wasn't running off on some mission. Not that she blamed him. He held a surprising amount of influence in the Covenant, which meant those in power entrusted him with duties and tasks. Which meant taking time to spend with him was important whenever she could.

Though, if he were more stationary, she doubted the desire to spend time with him would diminish. Probably get even less done, but whatever they'd do together would be more enjoyable than all that. Naniti wasn't of the mind to simply abandon her self-imposed responsibilities, but if it were for him there'd be a temptation.

The Togruta watched as Lysander seemed to mull over the flavor of the tasting. Blue eyes watched his expression. He hadn't retched straight away so that was always a good sign.

"Alright, I'll try some." Quite the sell after one taste. Well, Naniti wouldn't mind having a little something. So, she dipped the spoon back in -- washing it first if there was a tut. Without hesitation she lifted the contents, made sure it wasn't too hot, and inserted it into her mouth for sampling.

A blink followed her attention pivoting to Lysander as she removed the spoon from between her lips. "That's... different. I don't think I've had something change flavors before." After a second, a small smile returned to her features. "I like it. Have you ever had anything like it?" Lysander had more culinary exposure -- so she believed -- from his upbringing. "Won't be long before we can do more than get a nibble of it too."

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti​

Who knew the kitchen would be the place that finally let him breathe? Here, no datapads were buzzing with alerts, or Lords pulling them into fresh crises; they were never short of those. Amid the perfume of herbs and spices, everything felt delightfully uncomplicated.

Lysander caught himself secretly wishing these interludes could stretch longer, or occur more often, which felt almost silly to harbor.. even internally. Wanting more wasn't something he allowed himself, not often, even by Sith standards.

Naniti lifting the spoon made his eyes tick a little wider; something in him slowed, much like the way he sometimes paused at a hilltop after a long run, just to breathe in the world's beauty.

“That’s the magic of of layering,” spoken with warmth. “And you chose well for the ingredients.. that’s why it unfolds like that. Most don’t land that balance on a first pass”

He lifted a hand as if to gesture toward the pot for reasons unknown, then stalled halfway through. For all the things he’d had to articulate in his life.. tactics, orders, philosophy.. apparently flavor was the thing his brain chose to malfunction over.

The spoon in the Togruta's hand drew his attention once more before lifting. “Just flavors taking turns.” He gave her elbow a gentle nudge with his own. “Kind of like how we're figuring things out.. together.” Fingertips brushed his jaw in a single, thoughtful sweep. “Okay.. think of it this way. The salt wakes you up first. Then the sweet steps in to soften everything, and lastly.. the spice waits until the end so it stays with you.”

Clearing his throat, he realized he had almost sidestepped Naniti's question altogether. “I have. When I was younger, my mother would whip up dishes like this now and then, but they never tasted exactly like this.” A low laugh broke loose as a few memories came back. Mostly loud dinners and too many hands reaching at once. “But.. with nine siblings, dinner resembled combat more than mealtime. Speed determined who ate well."