Private Flavortown UKA

[Colette]

The Ukatis temple was on the opposite spectrum of what Colette usually seemed to think of the Jedi and their enclaves. Where others seemed so tastelessly opulent, Ukatis was a surprisingly ascetic home in comparison. As far as vibes went it ruffled far less feathers with her than something like, say, the Naboo enclave did.

Wandering the courtyard she approached a nearby door. There was a knock on the door. Colette allowed herself a cautious peek into the kitchen before she proceeded to step inside. Cora had agreed to meet her here and Colette was beyond ecstatic to finally get the chance to meet her old friend no matter what the locale was.

She held a plate in her hands. Atop of it rested a solid slab of meat. It was red and fatty, and very clearly cut by someone who had sliced their way through tendon and sinew many, many times before. It's purpose: to be eaten. It's current state: inedible.

The plate skidded across the counter with a ceramic hiss. Colette came to a stop and looked over at Cora before she let out a weak laugh and reached out to wrap her arms around the blonde woman's entire being in a firm (but respectful, child bump-friendly) bear hug.

"I've missed you." Colette grunted and squeezed a little firmer before she let her friend go. "There's been so much to do. A lot of good, a lot of bad, and time just kind of slipped away."

Her hand landed on Corazona's shoulder to maintain the closeness.

"You look good! Rounder, but good!"

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora had been peeling potatoes when the knock came. A wave of her hand pushed the door ajar, and in walked Colette with a thick slab of meat.

The peeler and spud were set down as she was drawn into a familiar embrace. Cora took a moment to brush her hands on her apron before returning the hug.

"I've missed you too, so much," she whispered. One hand came to rest gently atop Colette's head in a fond gesture.

Circumstance had drawn them down different paths. Finally, those paths had converged.

Cora couldn't help her bubbling laughter at her friend's observation. "I'm glad. This little one," she placed a hand on the swell of her abdomen, "refused to let me eat comfortably for much of my first trimester. Fortunately, the Little Miss is less fussy!"

A wave would redirect their attention to the meat. "Oh, that's lovely," she cooed. A rumble from her stomach signaled secondary agreement. "I thought we'd use it to make strew. I never learned to cook growing up, but the caretakers here have been kind enough to teach me how to make a simple meal."

Embedded into the enclave was a general philosophy of self-sufficiency; the grounds were cared for by its inhabitants, and everyone learned basic cooking, cleaning, and mending; skills Cora had only recently begun to develop.

"Could you grab that?" Picking up the peeler, she used it to point to a large black cauldron sitting on the opposite counter. "And fill it with water, please."

Cora looked back to the half-peeled potato as if it were some sort of metaphor for the situation the Jedi had found themselves in. Her fingers moved, resuming the rhythm of her work.

"How have you been? How are the others?"