Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Faction Taste of the Temple

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This social is Open to Jedi and their allies at the Tython temple. Characters are invited to bring food or drinks from their homeworlds for others and themselves to enjoy! Be creative and have fun :)


Ever since Klar told him that she liked watching him cook, Xuko had been working to bring some of his favorite Iridonian recipes to the Jedi temple; and after having to explain to the Council why he needed to import a specific kind of scorpion, he had been charged with making it an event that all Jedi could attend. That was why he had spent the past several hours setting up small booths around the stone steps of the Tython temple, as well as tables and chairs scattered around the temple entrance, for his fellow Jedi to use. Xuko had claimed a booth for his homeworld of Iridonia, and was busy putting the finishing touches on the Vren'kath as the first guests began arriving.

The Zabrak adjusted the small paper tents in front of each dish. Each food had its ingredients listed, as well as the spice level. A quick glance would show that Iridonian foods were, on the whole, extraordinarily spicy; and with the exception of the bread that Azurine Varek Azurine Varek had promised to drop off, the food he'd brought today reflected that.

As his stomach rumbled and he waited for his first victim customer, Xuko wondered what other foods or drinks would be available to choose from; he'd spent so much time coordinating the event, as well as his own booth, that he hadn't had time to peruse the sign-up sheet to see what else was being brought.
 
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Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike


The soft clink of ceramic dishes preceded him, balanced expertly in a woven carrier slung over one shoulder. Aadihr walked with slow, deliberate steps, each guided by the gentle current of life that pulsed around the Temple grounds. The scent of spice, char, and roasted protein filled the air—Iridonian, unmistakably—and drew a quiet smile to his lips. He followed it like a thread in the tapestry of the Force.

He stopped at an unclaimed table near the edge of the gathering, near enough to hear laughter but removed enough for the nervous or curious to linger without pressure. With the grace of someone accustomed to silence, he began to unpack each dish:

A covered clay bowl, warm to the touch, was placed first. The moment the lid lifted, a mellow, herbal aroma escaped—braised Shaari fennel, soft and fork-tender, with a hint of star-anise and cave-root. Next came a small stack of folded vellimoss bread, its pale, almost silver crust dusted with cooling herbs that numbed the tongue in gentle waves. Finally, a narrow bottle of Kurlathi nectar, frosted slightly, was set upright beside them. He poured a small sample into a shared cup and set it forward with no fanfare.

There were no labels. Instead, each dish bore faintly etched lines in Miralukan braille—meant to be read by touch, not seen.

Aadihr set his walking stick beside the table, then folded his hands, exhaling softly through his nose. He let the atmosphere of the temple flow through him—laughter, sizzling pans, the pulse of gathered Jedi.

Let them come in their own time.
"The food is warm. You're welcome to share."

 


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Cultural exchange was a wonderful thing. The Epicanthix loved to celebrate all the cultures that made up their own. Each of the civilizations they had conquered or won over brought their own aspects. Artistry, culinary, warfare. They were celebrated in their descendants within the Epicanthic culture. Every family had their line that could be traced all the way back.

Aris had brought his own here. It was the royal line, unbroken since the time of Solomon. He idly set out a couple of the dishes, a smile on his face. They were hot, of course. Spices were important to the core of the population. Wild boar stew, made with a different beast than on Panatha but close enough to be considered just as tender. Pastries as well. Even a cider, though it wasn't anything compared to the spirits his family could make.

They just weren't appropriate for Padawan's his age to give out.

Aadihr Lidos Aadihr Lidos | Xuko Pagoi Xuko Pagoi
 
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Outfit: Summer Fit
Equipment:
Lightsaber, Bracelet, Earrings, Seer Stone, Wayfinder's Flare, Engagement Ring
Companion: Isari
Tag: Xuko Pagoi Xuko Pagoi Aadihr Lidos Aadihr Lidos Aris Noble Aris Noble OPEN

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The warm scents of cumin and cinnamon clung to Eve's cloak as she arrived at the temple grounds, weaving through people, a pair of covered dishes held steady in her arms. A slim shape padded close at her heels, silver eyes bright beneath a sleek white mask of fur.

Isari moved with delicate caution through the press of robes and drifting spices, tail held high, nose twitching at every unfamiliar scent.

Ever since she and Tigris had moved to a small apartment near the temple, Eve had found herself cooking again — properly cooking, not ration packs or temple kitchens. It felt like breathing again.

The dishes were still hot. She set them carefully on one of the empty tables, lifting each lid to let the steam roll out in gentle spirals.

Soft, golden pastries filled with spiced lentils and chopped nuts, brushed with honey until they gleamed. A deep orange lentil curry, thick with tomato and sweet pepper, bright threads of saffron swirling through the surface. A platter of marinated greens and crisp white roots, tart with vinegar and flecked with toasted seeds. All food she'd grown up on. Food that tasted of home.

Isari sniffed the edge of the table, ears flicking forward as if to approve. Eve smoothed a stray curl behind her ear, cheeks a touch pink from the heat, then turned, scanning the gathering until her eyes found familiar faces.

Aadihr, quiet as ever, near his table. Aris with that small, proud smile. Xuko, bustling with energy around the booths. She smiled at them each and waved from across the way, glad to see them all again.

Seeing them all well — expecially Aadihr, after everything — made her heart swell.

 
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Location: Tython
Objective: Share ersansyr culture, experience the cultures of others in turn
Tags: Xuko Pagoi Xuko Pagoi Aadihr Lidos Aadihr Lidos Aris Noble Aris Noble Everest Vale Everest Vale

The air was brimming with both excitement and the smell of good food. Cori could scarcely keep the bounce out of her step as she approached a vacant table, her arms laden with woven seaweed baskets filled with her favourite foods.

What a wonderful idea that young Iridonian padawan had had, suggesting that the Jedi come together to share their culture in the form of a food festival at Tython. Honestly, it was about time! After all, the order was made up of thousands of force sensitives from all walks of life, drawn from every corner of the galaxy.

Even from a corner tucked far away in the outer rim. Even from a planet as far removed and unknown as Aquilaris Minor.

Cori placed down each of her woven baskets gently, taking great care not to damage the contents inside. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied the other stalls, representing Eshan, the Epicanthrix, Alpheridies and of course, Iridonia. The Jedi knight longed to visit each and every one of their booths, and learn all she could about their home-worlds, but first, she had to finish setting up her own stall.

It had never truly struck Cori just how much her colony back home relied on her to represent them in the galaxy. It hadn't been until she had been named Jedi watchman of the Aquilaris Minor system that it truly struck her how much of an accidental spokesperson she was. The ceremony her people had thrown her just a few days ago after hearing the news had been touching, but also revealing - there very few ersansyr out there in the galaxy, and aside from her, no other planet hopping mermaid was a reef siren. There was no one else to represent the small group of merfolk living alone in the reefs of an unknown outer rim planet. No one else to share their culture, but her.

It was a rather daunting level of responsibility, so Cori tried not to think about it too much.

Beautifully manicured nails lifted up the lid of the first basket, revealing rows and rows of neatly wrapped sushi rolls. They contained a variety of meat fillings: salmon, prawns, tuna, crab, parrot fish, all paired with fresh sea kelp that resembled and tasted similar to lettuce. The rolls were wrapped up with seaweed and fluffy white rice, though the ersansyr inwardly bemoaned the fact that it was landgrown rice and not the briny and moreish searice that she had grown up eating in the colony herself.

The next basket was filled with salted and roasted salicornia, cooked over a fire that had came close to mimicking the lava vent ovens of her home, before being set aside to cool until it was room temperature. Looking around, Cori had a feeling that she was the only member of the festival to be offering exclusively cold food at her table. Living entirely underwater meant that everything the merfolk of Aquilaris Minor ate was the same temperature as the water. Ersansyr stomachs simply weren't used to the sensation of hot food.

Uncovering two more baskets, Cori revealed piles of sugary meoa. The brightly coloured rice dumplings had been speared onto driftwood skewers and formed into cute little shapes. It saddened the seer a little that she had never truly mastered the ability to turn the raw dough into the intricate forms the other colony members back home did, but she had done her best. The rice dumplings had been formed into the Jedi's best attempts at stars and seashells, before being coated in a sugar and soy mixture and cooked to perfection. Cori resisted the urge to grab one herself - she could have the leftovers, once everyone else had tried them out.

Finally, she finished with her smallest basket, containing sticky ikxi, a type of mochi that could be made underwater. A fond smile grew across the Jedi's face at the sight of the little pink balls, flavoured with the red seaweed that grew in her people's orchards just beyond the reef. Her mother had given these to her before she had left Aquilaris Minor after the ceremony. They were homemade and authentic, and Cori hoped the other Jedi would appreciate them just as much as she did.

Now that everything had been set up, Cori swayed on the balls of her feet, anxious to chat to the Jedi around her. She would give it five minutes before she abandoned her post to go talk to the other stall holders. People could always help themselves, right?

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TYTHON

Drystan stood in front of a mobile serving line—a litany of sauce-laden, spice-garnished meats accompanied by rice and noodles, each served separately in different trays.

Wearing an apron stitched with "Kiss the Cook" across the front and a hairnet to complete the look, Drystan served a line of hungry-looking Jedi, slapping their selected meats and grains onto white foam takeout trays. The line briefly stalled, however, as he found himself in a discussion with a Lannik padawan.

"I think I'll do the General Rom Mohc Chicken with rice," the padawan said. "And can I get an egg roll with it?"

Drystan stared at him blankly before replying.

"It comes with an egg roll."

A pause. The padawan stared back, uncertain of what he'd heard—ironic, given the Lannik species' reputation for heightened hearing.

"It comes with an egg roll."

Another pause. Still no reply.

"...Egg roll."

Whatever the exchange amounted to, the padawan did eventually receive his order: a plate of deep-fried chicken pieces, coated in a sweet and spicy sauce and served on a bed of fried rice—alongside the object of his desire. One crispy, crunchy, meat-and-cabbage-filled egg roll, roughly the size of a Dowutin's middle finger.

Though not native to Coruscant—Drystan's home planet—Atrisian food in the form of takeout had become a staple. One could find Atrisian restaurants on nearly every corner of the Underworld, their affordable price and bold flavor drawing in customers from all walks of life.

@OPEN
 
Spitfire Soul, Heart of Gold
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Cultural Diffusion
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Outfit: Clothing/Armor | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman | Purple Bracelet
Weapons: Lightsaber 1 [x] | Lightsaber 2 [x]

Azzie had been up since before the first light; sleeves rolled to the elbows and an apron was tied in a crooked knot. She'd commandeered part of the temple's auxiliary kitchen like a general claiming a battlefield, sweat beading at her temples as fire and spice clung to the air. The kabobs had taken the longest. Blok meat was tough if you didn't know how to handle it, and Iridonian peppers didn't ask if you were ready. They demanded it. Every stick was seared just enough to caramelize the edges with a golden sheen from the marinade and dusted with crimson flakes.

Iridonian cuisine had never catered to the faint of heart. Her people were strict carnivores by biology (which in turn trickled into their culture), though there were a few hardy grains grown in the ash-rich soils of the deeper canyons. She'd used one of them, bluth flour, to make both the clear noodles and the thick, terracotta-colored pepper bread that was as much memory as it was food. That one was for Xuko Pagoi Xuko Pagoi . He'd asked, and how could she say no? Not when she still remembered her grandmother's coarse voice guiding her to "Knead harder, little warrior, or the bread will shame us both."

She approached Xuko's booth with a tray balanced on her hip and a crooked grin on her lips. The aroma alone was enough to make nearby Jedi pause, intrigued... or afraid. For her, however, the smell was layered and lovely. "Brought the bread as well as a curry dip," she said, setting them down gently beside his Vren'kath. "Spice level's marked, but I feel morally obligated to make sure you warn people ahead of time anyway. If anyone combusts, I'm denying responsibility."

She leaned in conspiratorially with a soft chuckle. "I also got my hands on some of these, if you wanted to try something that normally might put you in a duel with your guts."

With a wink and a wave, Azzie handed him a few small and white enzyme pills and then moved on, weaving through the growing crowd with the ease of someone who belonged anywhere she decided to be. Half the cookies were tucked into a smaller tin, their surface glossy from the syrup glaze Everest had taught her to make, which they had made from the small flowers of the bluth plant to be safe for desert carnivore species. A hybrid of Iridonian fire and Eshan delicacy—brittle, bright, and somehow perfect. She found Everest Vale Everest Vale near the cluster of tables where guests mingled.

"These are yours," Azzie said as she handed the tin over, then jerked her chin toward the larger basket still tucked under her arm. "I made some of the clear noodles without meat, too. It was more difficult than I expected, but I thought you might at least want to try something from my homeworld without having to surgically extract protein from it."

She didn't linger long, though. The temple courtyard was alive now with Jedi and guests alike sampling flavors most had never dreamed of. She passed by Aris Noble Aris Noble on her way, giving a quick smile, her eyes finally meeting his for longer than she'd been able to manage in months. Progress! "I would offer you some Iridonian whiskey, but your parents might have my head for that. I will be back for some of that stew, though; it smells amazing!"

Azzie followed the pull of something quieter, steadier. The thread in the Force that always guided her back to him. Aadihr Lidos Aadihr Lidos sat calmly at his table, the soft etchings on his dishware catching the angled Tython sunlight. Still, serene, centered in a way she could never quite match. It made a small flutter twist through her. She leaned in and kissed his cheek gently—careful of the way he turned to her while having to push herself to her tiptoes to do so.

"Hope you're hungry," she said as she reached him, setting down a trio of her dishes beside his. Her voice was lighter than it had been with anyone else, teasing but warm. "Or at least curious enough to risk what plenty of people claim to be 'taste bud trauma.'"




 


✦ RIKUAN ✦
"Ride the wind, dodge the rules."

LOCATION: Tython - Jedi Temple
OUTFIT: Tribal Jedi Robes
WEAPONS: Lightsaber
TAGS: Xuko Pagoi Xuko Pagoi | Aadihr Lidos Aadihr Lidos | Aris Noble Aris Noble | Everest Vale Everest Vale | Cordelia 'Cori' Eldoris Cordelia 'Cori' Eldoris | Drystan Creed Drystan Creed | Azurine Varek Azurine Varek

Something spicy-sweet hit the courtyard breeze way before he did. A few seconds later, Rikuan came bounding around the corner, arms hooked under a heavy clay pot almost bigger than he was, tail swaying in rhythm like it had its own agenda. Finally, he dropped to a crouch beside the food tables with a theatrical "Whew!"

Fashionably late as always, oblivious to the fact his stall had been unattended for... a while. Spotting another Padawan who seemed to be browsing the other food stalls, once the pair made eye contact - Rikuan excitedly waved him over. The Padawan seemed nervous, probably all too aware of Rikuan's reputation at the temple.

"Alright, alright! No one touch anything explosive yet. I brought food."

He popped the lid off with a little "ta-da!" gesture, and steam rolled out, carrying the scent of roasted fruit, something earthy and warm, and just enough chili to make you nervous.

"This..." he said proudly, "Is T'kaar Flamefruit & Rootshard Stew. Traditional Makurian dish. Usually served after rites of passage, or, y'know, the time my cousin Laka fell out of a glider tree and saw her ancestors. Again. She's fine. Sort of."

He reached for a ladle, then forgot about it halfway and kept talking with both hands instead.

"You've got flamefruit, sweet, spicy, makes your tongue tingle if it likes you. Rootshard tubers, which look like rocks but soften up real nice. And, uh…" He leaned in and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "...Those little jelly blobs? Pickled frog eggs. Don't ask. Just eat them fast and don't chew. Or chew. I dunno. Surprise yourself."

He finally noticed he was still holding the lid and swapped it for the ladle.

"Anyway." he added, tail flicking behind him, "We make this to honor the Three Winds, our ancestral spirits that guide the body, mind, and soul. Force-sensitive Makurians are called Windtouched, which sounds cool unless you're the only one your clan's had in, like, a hundred years and everyone keeps staring at you like you're gonna float off or explode or something."

He blinked, being the only Makurian at the temple, Rikuan realized the obvious. He waved and flashed a goofy grin.

"I'm this generation's Windtouched, by the way. Hi. Okay! Who's brave enough to try the soul-poppers first?"

He started serving stew into flatleaf bowls, tail bouncing in rhythm.. But his attention was already drifting, nose twitching, ears flicking toward the other smells drifting through the courtyard. He padded over to the Iridonian section, picked up a spicy skewer, and immediately started chewing, eyes widening.

"Oh, Winds!. My eyeballs are sweating. This is amazing."

He shoved the rest in his mouth and walked away without a second thought. Two seconds later he nearly tripped over a bowl of lentil curry and crouched down to sniff it.

"Okay, this smells like comfort. Like, nap-after-a-duel comfort." He spooned a bit into his mouth, nodded slowly, then pointed at no one in particular. "Whoever made this, you understand me on a spiritual level."

He grabbed one of the seaweed baskets next, examining it like it might bite back. "Alright, what are you -- oohh, crunchy!" He devoured it in two bites, already halfway turned toward another stall. "Wait, hold on. Was that from underwater? Why is that so good?"

By the time he found the Epicanthix-styled dish, he was already mid-ramble to a passing Knight about how his stew once made someone see their own birth. He took a bite of the new dish mid-sentence, paused, eyes narrowed thoughtfully… then gave a slow nod of respect.

"Alright. That one's got discipline. That's, like… serious food. That's meditate-for-two-hours-after food. I dig it."

He circled back to his pot, resting his hands on his hips - tail wagging. Rikuan was pleased with his dish, grinning like an idiot, but aware of how the contents sounded pretty intimidating. In a pathetic attempt to reassure everyone, he said:

"It only bites if you're afraid. That's what my aunt says. She lies a lot, though."

Then, without warning, he stuffed a full spoon of his own stew into his mouth, gave a thumbs-up to himself, and walked off humming, probably forgetting he had a bowl in each hand.
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Xuko smiled- a rare occurrence for him, especially in public- when Azurine Varek Azurine Varek arrived with the Bluth-flour bread. A food eaten only rarely by his family back on Iridonia, Xuko was grateful that there was another in the temple who had more experience with that particular recipe than he did. "Thank you. I shall have to learn how to bake it myself."

To Xuko's surprise, Azzie had brought more than just bread and kabobs his direction; she also handed him several small white pills. He was momentarily confused- he was not currently ill- but then she told him that they were to keep him from becoming so.

Suddenly, a whole galaxy of opportunities awaited him.

The Zabrak looked around the event, taking in the sights and smells and trying to decide which to try first, when Rikuan Rikuan breezed by. Before Xuko could make an introduction, the Makurian had practically inhaled a kebab. The Zabrak was somewhat disappointed that this did not result in a more pronounced reaction from Rikuan, but that had been his first visitor. Besides, from the sound of things, Makurians had an interesting cuisine of their own.

After finally getting the opportunity to demonstrate Iridonian spice superiority to a passing Knight, Xuko popped a piece of Bluth-flour bread into his mouth and temporarily abandoned his booth in search of something new to eat. He lingered briefly by Drystan Creed Drystan Creed 's booth before reading the Knight's apron and reconsidering. Xuko was fairly confident that there wasn't some sort of transaction involved here, but he wasn't about to risk it.

The Zabrak eventually found himself in front of Cordelia 'Cori' Eldoris Cordelia 'Cori' Eldoris 's booth, gazing with a mixture of confusion and concern at the array of foods she'd brought; namely, something called 'sushi'. "All of your food is cold?" he said, glancing up at the Ersansyr. "Why is that?"

It was, he would later realize, a bit of a culture shock.
 
Klar HADN'T set up a booth. For one thing, the only thing she could make besides more'stufars came out of a microwave or air fryer. For two, her schedule was booked up the entire day of the food festival - entirely by accident! As a distant third, she'd never met a Codru-Ji that wasn't one of her parents and was largely ambivalent towards her species heritage. As far as she was concerned, the food of her people was Coruscanti - and she didn't want to be the loser showing up to to the event with pudding she'd tried to fly in from a planet half a day away at good warp at minimum. It just wasn't in the cards this year. Sorry, Xuko.

It was only the night before that Klar realized that she could have her cake (by getting it from the event) and eat it as well. She'd promised to help with the Younglings, and while that typically meant guiding a squad of little ones through meditations and excercises and some basic schooling? It didn't HAVE to be. Learning could be fun. Learning could be tasty. Learning could be getting to eat all sorts of interesting food, meeting older Jedi, and learning about their cultures.

As she entered the scene, Klar trailed a double line of eight younglings aged 9-12. She whistled sharply to get their attention, turning to face her wards with her hands on her hips. "Remember the rules, everyone! Tikolla, pay attention." Klar chided. "Everyone: If you don't know what something is, ask! And stick with your buddies. You all remember how to find your buddies, right?"

A couple of the more active or talkative children lifted their arm to show off brightly colored gel bracelets. Four pairs - blue, green, yellow, and white. Klar lifted her four arms as well. She was wearing one bracelet of each color. "Jelly bracelets!" Klar and several of the younglings answered in rough unison. This wasn't an uncommon way for her to organize pairings. The children all knew the drill. "That's right. Remi, why are you raising your hand?"

The small Togruta made a small noise of complaint while holding her cupped hands up, but didn't speak. Klar offered a compassionate look. "Almost done. Hold on a mo'." She requested gently.

"Right, then! Stay INSIDE the tents, and be mindful of each other! Come find me if you need a water! Remember what your favorites are, because we'll be talking about them this afternoon!" Klar prompted, unleashing her pack of younglings off to descend upon presentations of free food and attention.

Klar would be right there with them, after she helped Remi release the bug she'd found on the grass somewhere safe.
 
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Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike


The kiss was soft and brief, but no less grounding than a meditation bell. Her voice came next, familiar as heartbeat.
He smiled gently. She smells like spice and starlight today. His head tilted toward her voice, and with quiet warmth, he reached up and kissed her back, fully, lifting her in an embrace with a quick spin around before setting her back where she had approached him.

"Hope you're hungry," ... "Or at least curious enough to risk what plenty of people claim to be 'taste bud trauma.'"

"Then I shall be brave."

He lingered in her presence only long enough to let the moment, giving her hand a squeeze inviting her to join him in exploring the stalls if she wishes, then rose slowly, and began his way down the steps.

The courtyard was alive now, full of conversation and color, steam and salt and laughter. Aadihr weaver through people like water between river stones, guiding Azzie behind him with their hand as a tether. The Force swelled with pride, with culture, with lineage expressed in food and story. His steps followed it.

The first to greet was Aris Noble Aris Noble – Aadihr approached the savory smell laid-out boar stew and delicate pastries his Padawan brought, reaching gently to sample some for himself.

"A Noble (heh) offering. Bold, but balanced. I taste reverence in the broth. I bet your ancestors would be proud."

He couldn't help but laugh a bit at his own exaggeration, but sobered up enough at the end to let Aris know that he did mean it. He sampled the stew with graceful caution, chewing thoughtfully. The spice lingered with a satisfying burn.

Next came Everest's table, the scent of her curry already beckoning. He sensed her presence before she spoke, warm as the curry, and when she looked toward him, he turned his head toward her and smiled.

"Your cooking remembers joy, Eve. Even before I tasted it, I could feel that."

Aadihr seemed to be cursed to speak like a geezer today, but his words were genuine. Maybe the noise and auras all around were short-circuiting his speech processing to talk like some stereotype of a jedi. He accepted a small spoonful of lentil curry, savoring the harmony between sweet pepper and saffron.

"This is comfort. The taste of home, even if I've only been there once."

At the booth of Cordelia 'Cori' Eldoris Cordelia 'Cori' Eldoris he took his time. The coolness of the dishes was a surprise, but not unwelcome. The meoa dumplings caught his attention first.

"Cold as the reef, but sweet as a sun-warmed shell. Thank you, Jedi Eldoris."

He bowed gently to her. Pride tempered by humility. She's walking a new current, but swims with grace.

It was infecting his thoughts too. Aadihr simply accepted it at this point, letting himself gently laugh and smile at the small contradictions the force instilled in him, adding to the warm, gentle, and peaceful presence he carried.

Rikuan Rikuan stew was unmistakable, its heat carried on the breeze like a warning and an invitation. Aadihr smiled as he approached.

"Soul-poppers, was it? I suppose I must test my courage again."

He dipped a small piece of vellimoss bread into the fiery broth, sampling it. His expression didn't change—but he paused.
Then exhaled slowly, eyes (or lack thereof) lifting slightly.

"Three Winds, indeed. My spirit may never land again."

He clasped Rikuan’s shoulder lightly in passing. "Your ancestors whisper in the back of the palate. Thank you for sharing your culture, Windtouched."

At Drystan Creed Drystan Creed station, he waited patiently in line. When it was his turn, he accepted a tray of chicken, rice, and—without needing to be told—an egg roll.

"Takeout food given in service. The true cornerstone of galactic peace. Though I'm partial to Ithorian Udon, myself. Better than eating dirt at the end of Buster's leash, at least."
Aadihr smiled, recalling peaceful times shared, letting the shadows of their past fade for the moment.

The crispness of the egg roll earned the faintest amused tilt of his head. Crunch and comfort. Street food is the lifeblood of the galaxy – though maybe not the best to make a habit of.

He bowed his thanks.

The breeze shifted. He saw them through the force before he heard them. The swarm of younglings, tiny stars in a swirl of jelly bracelets and excitement, herded loosely by Klar Klar – a Padawan with a bright and steady presence.

He turned with quiet anticipation and made his way back to his table, footsteps sure, but unhurried. Just as he sat again, the first wave of curious chatter and small feet approached.

He smiled.

"You’ve come just in time. The food is warm, the company warmer."

He gestured to the three simple dishes on display and the rest of the booths.

"Eat gently. And listen closely. Sometimes a meal has more to say than the one who serves it."

 
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Location: Tython
Objective: Share ersansyr culture, experience the cultures of others in turn
Tags: Xuko Pagoi Xuko Pagoi Aadihr Lidos Aadihr Lidos Aris Noble Aris Noble Everest Vale Everest Vale Drystan Creed Drystan Creed Azurine Varek Azurine Varek Rikuan Rikuan Klar Klar

More and more Jedi had begun to arrive, streaming in to taste all the dishes and smell all the aromas of a million different homes hanging in the air. Cori was itching to explore the other stalls herself. After all, even if they served heated dishes, she could always scoop food up and save it for later, after it had cooled. Apparently, as some poor naive padawan ran desperately from the Iridonian stall to the nearest fountain, some dishes likely didn't need to be served hot to deliver their heat.

The ersansyr's inner musings were pleasantly interrupted when a member of a species she had never seen before bounded over and snatched up a basket of her crunchy salicornia. Thankfully she'd had the foresight to bring more than enough for everyone. The other Jedi's apparent shock that the tasty vegetable came from underwater ellicted a giggle from her. "You'd be amazed at all the different foods that you can harvest from the ocean!"

Fetching another seaweed basket full of greens, the ersansyr made a mental note to check out the Jedi's booth when she had a chance. She was just sprinkling a little extra salt over it when another Jedi approached her booth. Not just any Jedi, but the very padawan whose idea this festival had been in the first place.

"Hi! You must be Xuko! I'm Cori. And can I just say, this was a truly splendid idea," The knight immediately began to yap. "Absolutely brilliant. Some of us - most of us, even - live really far away from home, so it's nice to have an opportunity to share the cultures we grew up in with others. It's good for us to have a real, tangible reminder of who we're fighting to protect."

"All of your food is cold?" he said, glancing up at the Ersansyr. "Why is that?"

"Oh! Well, we don't have any way to heat things up underwater," Cori explained. "In the reef that I grew up in, we only really have a few lava vents for cooking, and even when we use those, the food will still remain the temperature of the water around it. Which is why all our cuisine is served cold - because there is no possible way to eat any of it hot."

"Unfortunately it inspires an aversion within those of us from the colony for hot food here on the surface," the knight grimaced. "Our stomachs aren't used to the sensation at all. Its better for us to avoid it all together, or perhaps just refrigerate it for a little while."

"Anyway, most of the time the colony doesn't even cook our meat," Cori continued on, barely seeming to take a breath. "We ersansyr love raw fish. If you prepare it right, it tastes just as good as when its cooked. Possibly even better!"

A set of manicured fingers gently nudged the sushi basket towards Xuko. "The meat in this is raw, but completely safe to eat. You're more than welcome to try one, if you like."

Leaving Xuko to decide whether to take leap or not, Cori found herself greeted warmly by Aadhir Lidos, who seemed to be drawn to her meoa dumplings, despite their imperfections.

"Cold as the reef, but sweet as a sun-warmed shell. Thank you, Jedi Eldoris."

Cori beamed. "You are too kind, Aadhir, and you're welcome. Take another one for the road, and please, call me Cori - everyone does."

She returned his bow, filled with the distinct feeling that he some how knew what she was going through. That was comforting - if such a wise Jedi seemed to have faith in her, than perhaps it was time she tried having a little bit more faith in herself.

"Are you a mermaid?"

Turning, Cori's smile only widened at the sight of two adorable younglings, their wrists clad in blue. The one who had spoken up was a girl, who was pointing to the knight's gills with one hand, her other hand tightly holding her male friend's.

"Aren't you observant!" The seer laughed, crouching down to their level. "Yes, I am a sea maiden. In fact, the coral reef ersansyr are one of the largest merfolk communities still living entirely underwater-"

"What's this?" The boy interrupted, holding up a dumpling skewer by it's stick. "Why are they shaped like snails?"

"Oh, that's meoa! Traditionally, we shape it into all sorts of things. Those are actually supposed to resemble conch shells."

"Seashells? That's so boring!" The boy pouted. "Can you make me one that looks like a starship?"

"Oh, I want a butterfly shaped one!" The girl chimed in as well. "Or a mermaid! Or maybe a butterfly mermaid?"

Both kids continued to shout out suggestions for different shapes and Cori felt as if her head was spinning. There was some karmic justice in this, after all, only a few years ago, Cori and her sisters had been just like these younglings. The thought had her almost imperceptably shaking her head. Her poor mother...perhaps a bouquet of reefflowers was long overdue.



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"Well met Cori, and thank you" Xuko replied, patiently waiting while the ersansyr informed him about the nuances of her people's food; and while the prospect of eating something that hadn't been thoroughly cooked seemed unsafe- coming from a planet where eating anything undercooked was very dangerous- he decided to take Cori at her word.

A bustle of movement and a familiar voice leading younglings reminded Xuko to take one of the enzyme pills Azzie had given him; if not for the food, maybe they could help settle whatever strange sensation he'd felt in his stomach when Klar Klar first entered the room.

That thought was brushed aside as he realized that one of the younglings she'd brought with- a fellow Zabrak- was about to challenge one of their wide-eyed peers- NOT a Zabrak- to a Sha'zehn Vren'Vorr'kath. Xuko nodded his thanks in Cordelia 'Cori' Eldoris Cordelia 'Cori' Eldoris ' direction, grabbed two different color sushi, and sped off back towards his booth.

By the time he made it back, the little Zabrak's unwitting "opponent" was already tapping out, having not made it past the Bluth-flour bread. While he ran off to beg water from Klar, the Zabrak youngling's eyes lit up upon seeing Xuko and the Vren'kathrek he'd had created. "My favorite! Sha'zehn Vren 'Vorr'kath, Xuko!" came the squeaky voice.

Xuko felt another sensation in his stomach- not indigestion from sushi or some kind of flip flop from seeing Klar- but something approaching dread as the little Zabrak picked up one of the two scorpions that Xuko had created especially for a similar contest with Aris Noble Aris Noble . The one that the youngling held was spicy even by Iridonian standards, but was more or less in line with what the dish was intended to be.

The one that was left for Xuko- the one that he had intended to give to Aris- was something of an abomination. Xuko hadn't paid much attention to the combination nor the quantity of the spices he'd heaped liberally on his scorpion; the goal had been to establish Iridonian spice superiority using shock-and-awe tactics.

Even worse, Xuko could hardly dismiss the challenge from another Iridonian; not without losing significant standing in the process, or on account of being pregnant. And since he could hardly claim to be with child... "I am honor-bound to accept."

Xuko raised his scorpion in the traditional salute given by challengers, pierced his tongue with its tail- the venom further amplified taste- and committed.
 

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