Open Ajan Kloss To Be Kind

Byron Alduun

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OPEN TO MEMBERS OF THE JEDI ORDER
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The Order, in its wholesome efforts to create a community on Ajan Kloss, had created a rotary domestic system whereby a collection of members would be expected to handle various chores across the ground.

To be fair, outside of a sulky few, it had worked. Individuals usually found hiding within the solitude of their rooms could instead be seen conversing and mingling in the kitchens if they were on cooking duty, or in the laundry rooms, discussing their favourite holobooks. Those in dispute with one another would often settle terms through tasty teamwork.

By all means, it was a successful operation.

Today, Byron was assigned to the kitchen. Since it was his preferred option from the selection of chores offered, particular over ones such as garbage duty, he had arrived first. The enticing scents of yesterday’s leftovers lingered throughout the area, providing a pleasant backdrop for those who were on the rotor today.

Members were required to sign in on the datapad by the entrance, and those who were assigned but chose not to turn up were subject to punishment, which ninety-percent of the time equated to a double-up of chores the next week.

Byron unhooked an apron from the wall beside the entrance and fastened it around his waist before approaching the cupboards, pulling out the necessary pots and pans, hammering the enjoyable silence with clinks and clunks.


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Vayla Mirana

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The Order, in its wholesome efforts to create order in the galaxy, also created order in the kitchen. Vayla had learned this dictum upon first stepping foot in the room that time ago, having been lured toward the scents of spices and herbs, ginger and parsley or cinnamon and rosemary, beside the aromas of jasmine and lavender and other flowers planted about the vicinity. That day, she had walked in to discover a pot of meat and vegetables bubbling on the stove, bread baking in the oven and rich cheeses on the counter. Today, none of that was there yet. It was up to the trusty stewards like her to make it all happen, and then some.

Signing in, Vayla was greeted by the sounds of clanking cookware by the man who had entered but a moment before her. Fastening on her apron, a white garment that she would do her best to keep just so, she nodded at her cooking companion while retrieving utensils like knives and ladles.

“What’s on the menu today, then?” Her speech dripped with a cheery demeanor. Truly, she was always eager to cook, and today was no different, albeit she was a tad tired from pulling what had almost become an all-nighter. Maybe it should have been. Not sure those three hours did better or worse. Or were they two..?

The man she spoke to had a name she did not know, except for Byron Alduun if the datapad had been anything to go by. In fact, he was probably one face in a number of which she had never laid eyes on before. Vayla didn’t really frequent Ajan Kloss as she traveled the stars, but, whether resident or visitor, she valued that no knight was exempt from seeing to the daily chores that kept the community in shape. And well fed. I’m as hungry to cook as I am to eat...
 
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Daniel Rose

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Daniel was next to walk into the kitchen, taking the datapad and signing in quickly. The padawan recognised one person already in the kitchen but couldn’t quite remember his name as he’d only seen him in passing in the corridors, Bir—No. Erm. Bylam?? Ah kriff it I’ll just go with a neutral greeting then… he thought as he lifted an apron down off the hook with telekinesis – it wasn’t just laziness, mind you, it was laziness combined with his master’s request to practice more. But honestly 99% of the reasoning was the former. And the other woman he had never met at all, but that was bound to happen a lot with the growing Order. “What up losers” he called out casually to Mr I-Can’t-Remember-Your-Name and Mrs I-Haven’t-Met-You-Yet across the kitchen with a polite wave and a nod in their direction.

He stood before a long metallic countertop and squeezed his eyes shut and tapped his fingers on his thighs trying to remember what he was going to cook today.

“Aha!”

Daniel set about removing herbs and spices from the cupboards, as well as a nice cut of meat, and some vegetables, laying them all out carefully on the countertop. Growing up on the farm, it was no surprise that he would be a chef of sorts – not necessarily a great one, but a chef nonetheless. As the various scents filled the air and fused into one seemingly indistinguishable mix, he felt like he was home once again.
 

Jacob Freiso

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Jacob would slink into the room, yawning and wiping his eyes as he arrived. He signed in on the data pad (albeit reluctantly) and greeted fellow members as he walked by. When it came to cooking his skills were lack luster and he had fully planned on relying on some of the other arrivals in order to make it through this event. In the end though it was much better than the alternative of having to take out trash or cleaning. This would also give him the chance to get to know some of the other members, as he usually spent his time as a reclusive hermit.

He arrived to the kitchen and put an apron on over his robes, the apron fell loose around his waste as he tied a rather relaxed knot behind him. He caught sight of the man getting to work on the cupboards and his companions arriving shortly afterward.
"Good, looks like I am just in time to be on time but not the first." He nodded to the group of them and then looked around blankly, unsure of where exactly to start, if at all. This would likely end with him standing around before being ordered to do something, or so he thought.

As he looked around he began taking mental note of the best places to nap once he got a break or when he got a chance to sneak off. He was somewhat excited to begin getting to know some of his fellow Jedi, and equally as excited for the chance to dig into some free food. The most exciting prospect however? Not having to deal with whatever punishment would have befallen him should he have forgotten to arrive. By the force he didn't want to be punished again for being late.
 

Ember Blaze

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Ember was moving along at a light jog. She hadn't been on Ajan Kloss in a few years, and having recently returned, Ember was having a hard time finding her way. Turning a corner, Ember smelled her destination before she saw it.

"Oh, there it is!" Ember said to herself, excited that she finally found where she needed to be. Ember swept into the room, stopping to catch her breath. There were several people already there, though she did not know any of them. Oh wait, I need to log in, Ember thought to herself. She quickly stepped outside and signed her name on the datapad. Once back inside, Ember grabbed an apron and stepped up to a nearby countertop as she put it on. "I hope I made it on time!" Ember said, though not directed at anyone.

Around her were three humans and a Pantoran. Ember had never meet
 

Ash Valentine

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T'was going to be a busy day for the folks at the temple, Ash thought sullenly as he lumbered his way down the walk to the kitchen. He clocked in, once again bemoaning his luck to have been assigned chores of all things during his visit to the temple. He was already training folks what more did the Jedi want? Worse yet, most of the younger ones kept practically begging him for some Vardosian waffles. Where did they even hear about those, and why did they think he was the guy to go to make them?

Irrelevant was the fact that he was a fantastic cook and they were always made by him for breakfast. But, ask and ye shall receive apparently, if the kids wanted to act out by asking for contraband stuff, who was he to stop them. Might do them some good to get into a bit of trouble. So he wandered to the kitchen with his supplies, those being several bottles of spiced Vardosian Brandy and some preprepared batter.

"Morning all." He rasped loudly. "Hope there is still some space on the stove, don't want to walk back to get a hotplate." He continued as he got dressed to cook, while loudly placing the glass bottles on the counter.
 

Giran Latt

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Giran slipped in next, softly humming a tune that had been stuck in his head since the night before. He loved chore day, the monotony of it was very much like meditation (which he suspected was part of the point) and it wasn't to hard to slip into the background whilst everyone else chatted. Not that he didn't enjoy conversing with his fellow Jedi only he found that if he didn't talk he couldn't mess up.

Giran went to sign in on the datapad, hopefully none of the more boisterous padawans were on duty today. A small squeak escaped his mouth when he saw the names on the pad. FIVE KNIGHTS and what's worse only one other padawan.
Ok calm down, just play it cool, they're people too."h-h-hi e-ev-everyone" Giran stuttered real cool nerf-herder.
Head down, Giran grabbed an apron - a slight touch of force telekinesis to make sure he didn't drop it and make a bigger fool out of himself - and all but ran to a free station. Hoping that no one noticed Giran busied himself despite having no idea what he was supposed to be making.
 
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Ke Eoto

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There were few reasons as to why someone like Ke Eoto would find himself walking in the direction of the kitchens. Unfortunately, it was not because he decided to volunteer to the duty out of the goodness of his heart in order to help out with providing for his fellow Jedi. At the same time, he was not one to lazy around or shy away from chores, although his superiors suggested other duties for him initially as they suspected that what passed on as cuisine for him would not be especially agreeable to Jedi from other species and vice-versa. Turns out that they were right and caught Ke Eoto devouring a small mammalian native to the planet live in the forests near the Jedi Temple, hunting rifle still in hand. Although the Blood Carver attempted to explain that this was a perfectly appropriate second breakfast for most of the Galaxy, they still frowned upon his very un-Jedi-like behavior.

So the Blood Carver was sent to work in the kitchens for the day, so that he might learn more about cuisines that involved less thrashing or hopefully pick up taste for something that couldn't scream in pain, like space sprouts. At the very least they asked him to not carry around a hunting blaster so close to Temple grounds and attempt to be more humane to his meals.

"Hrrrrmmr"

A guttural rising croak rumbled out from within his gullet, making his golden beak-flaps vibrate excessively as he was stuck on the sign-in datapad for good five minutes now, a line of fellow Padawans forming behind him. The alien was not especially skilled at dealing with technology, a handicap from growing up on a primal, back-water planet. Although he did manage to eventually realize that he was just repeatedly turning the datapad on and off.

"Sign-inn."

He croaked out a command at the datapad, hoping it was voice activated, grasping onto its durasteel frame when he realized that it was not. Another annoyed rumble emanated from deep within elongated frame as he tapped his fingers on the datapad. His claws skittered and scratched over it uselessly, their points too fine to register on the datapad's touch screen. The Blood Carver attempted to align his fingers in a way that the flat side might push on the buttons to sign him in. That failed as well.

Eventually his frustration begun to reach a boiling point and he smashed his fist into the screen. The pressure from the smack was enough to press the touchscreen in the right spot and green light of confirmation flashed on the device.

"Hrah~"

He sounded out in appreciation and triumph, finally moving past the datapad to step into the kitchen. He never managed to sign in his name, although their superiors will probably get the gist of it when they'll see "hskhaXhaknShaka" on the attendance list.

The alien grabbed one of the apron and put it on, the length of fabric was painfully out of proportion on his slender, elongated body.
 

Samira Veleneth

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"Hello, and good day everyone. I hope I'm not being intrusive; I know that I'm not going to be on cooking duty anytime soon." Samira smiled, recalling her last cooking attempt. Evidently, the cuisine of Mirial was pretty foul by galactic standards; which makes sense, given the planet's lack of resources. Still, she was sure they would like her kalank-root soup, but was told again and again that it was the worst mix of bitter and woody that anyone there had ever eaten. Well, a few of her fellow Jedi had said otherwise, but she realized later that they were all carnivores and almost certainly hadn't even tried it. That was, of course, fine; she had no expectations of success with cooking. It simply meant that she was to clean and repair clothes, take out garbage, and clean up more often; which was fine by her. It was nothing she hadn't been doing for years at home, anyway.

"I just came to watch, I think. More interesting than holovids. You know how it is; even the classics get stale after a while." While it was true that she had worn out her holovid player, the truth was Samira would rather spend time with the other Jedi. Being alone was... well, lonely, and having completed all her chores far to early in the morning, she gathered the resolve to come and sit with the others for now. She hoped she wasn't bothering them; after all, what if she was? She'd feel horrible; being disruptive and not even having a reason to be there!

Samira put on her best smile, looking towards all her fellow Jedi- her extended family. Many of them she had yet to meet; she had been far more reserved in the past, only recently striving to make connections with others. She looked over them; mostly human, but a few not. One stuck out in particular; a fellow Mirialan! She wanted to speak with him, but the poor padawan looked stressed already; something she understood, though he was handling it in a particularly good way, in her opinion. Public nervousness is always better than internalization, after all. She took it as a sign of greater maturity than she had in her years as a padawan. "Well, if you need any help, please ask. I'd be happy to assist." With that, Samira sat a bit out of the way, chewing on a kalank root that was, in her opinion, particularly tasty. It didn't even hurt to chew!

She hoped to speak with the padawan that had caught her attention earlier; she hadn't seen many of her people in the Jedi Order, at least so far. Maybe he could try her soup! (@Giran Latt)
 

Tedimor Har

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Jedi Master Tedimor Har was no stranger to early mornings, almost 50 years of being a Jedi had turned them into a morning person. They could still remember those early days groaning as Rey Skywalker would make them wake up at 3:00 in the morning to run up and down mountains in the pitch dark. The Order was different in those days, much smaller.

It warmed their heart to see such activity within the Order. The Jedi were beginning to thrive. The only regret they had was not being able to remember all the names of the near-constant flow of newcomers. Taedimor felt somewhat disconnected from the family they had always known, but perhaps that was just the way of things. Soon this Order would belong to the new generation of Jedi. They were glad that to see steps had been taken to maintain a family atmosphere within the Order. This new program that had been started was a good representation of the Jedi's service to the Galaxy and it seemed like most were willing participants.

Tedimor stood behind several Jedi as they waited to enter the kitchen. No one seemed to notice the Jedi Master, which wasn't unusual. They tilted their head as the Padawan in front of them struggled with the datapad. Another might have helped the Padawan to speed things along, but the Jedi Master was in no rush. "Datapads don't agree with me either," they said warmly as the Blood Carver Padawan finished and entered the kitchen.

The presence of the Jedi around them pressed in, feelings of tiredness, uncertainty, frustration, and even a bit of arrogance swirled around the elderly Jedi but above all that was a sense of community. There were Knights and Padawans alike in the kitchens this morning, but Tedimor found it difficult to differentiate the older from the younger. Everyone looked like a child to them, another gift of old age. "Good Morning," they said cheerfully as they made their way to a pot that had boiling water, pouring some into a cup before adding a tea bag they had prepared.

They drifted over towards a dish one of the Padawans was preparing. It smelled delicious. The Jedi Master took a spoon and tasted it before nodding slightly. "Needs more salt, dear," they said to the Padawan who seemed to be preparing it. ( @Daniel Rose )
 
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Ash Valentine

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With a quick glance around as folks began to filter in, Ash finished putting on his white apron and began preparing his station. Turning on a stove top to medium heat and then placing a stainless pan over the circle. Another glance around as folks began speaking up, prompted Ash to turn to the Mirialan woman (@Innsanna ) and introduce himself with a handshake "Names Ash, nice to meet you." he rasped before turning back to his work.

A light pressure on both the darker human (@Kalen Auburn ) and the female human (@ActualRaptors ) with Telekinesis hopefully would grab their attention. "How about you two come over here and I'll teach you folks how to make some real breakfast." He said with a light smirk, holding up a bottle of alcohol. Some would probably question the wisdom of putting alcohol in food, especially so early in the morning, but most of it burnt away anyways and much of the actual dish were vegetables.

As Master Har wandered in, Ash quickly lowered the bottle and stashed it out of view. He wasn't guilty about it as the food he was making was actually quite healthy, but he didn't really want to raise any unwanted questions, and the Master's always seemed to have plenty for him.
 

Giran Latt

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Taking some deep breathes Giran centred himself. No one seemed to be paying him much attention. Maybe they hadn't clocked his blunder, maybe he was fine.
Emotion, yet peace.
Ignorance, yet knowledge.
Passion, yet serenity.
Chaos, yet harmony.
Death, yet the Force.

He chanted the words under his breath and managed to center himself. Well at least until one of the other padawans started punching the datapad.
Emotion, yet peace.Emotion, yet peace.Emotion, yet peace.
Another knight walked in, another Mirialan of all things. Maybe this wasn't so bad. She seemed nice. She liked holovids and was just be-
WAS THAT MASTER HAR.
Emotion, yet peace.Emotion, yet peace.Emotion, yet peace.Emotion, yet peace.Emotion, yet peace.Emotion, yet peace.
Giran turned to the Mirialan. Sweat dripped down his face and his eyes were wide.
"Can you help me?" He squeaked "I honestly don't even know what I'm supposed to be making."
This was supposed to be a calm morning... (@Samira Veleneth)
 

Samira Veleneth

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"Pleasure to meet you as well; I'm Samira."

Happy to have had someone introduce themselves in such a polite manner, Samira became practically estatic when the Mirialan padawan asked for help. Smile on her face, she walked over and placed a hand on the younger one's shoulder, though she noted that it was not by much.

"Well, first I think you need to calm down a bit. You're only going to work yourself up and burn yourself if you aren't relaxed."

Samira looked around at the others, and what they were working on, coming to the conclusion that "what they were supposed to be making" was either whatever they wanted, or long since abandoned by everyone there.

"For starters, lets decide on what you want to make. What do you like eating? Thats always where I start."

Smiling at the overly-anxious padawan, Samira tried to instill a bit of calm into them; with a look that said to not worry, that this should be fun, not stressful. After all, who really cared if they did a good job? There were already plenty of cooks in the kitchen, so to speak.

"Are you from Mirial? There are plenty of options we could pick from our food, if you're up for it; though I'll warn you it'll probably only be us eating it!", the Jedi said with a giggle. Even if he wasnt from the homeworld, she hoped he was familiar with Mirialan food; or at least liked it. She promised not to try and strongarm him into making it, of course.
 

Giran Latt

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"ok,ok,ok, you're right" Giran replied
Samira's reassuring gaze and steady hand calmed Giran much more than the code had. He wasn't sure the code really even applied to such trifling matters. Maybe he'd ask someone later. Samira seemed wise maybe he'd ask her.
"My names Giran." he laughed embarrassedly "you'd think being a Padawan for so long I'd be use to all the important Jedi."
The last vestiges of panic left him with those words and Giran realised that there was actually a warm and comfortable atmosphere beginning to form in the room. His shoulders untensed and with a start realized that Samira was still talking to him.
"Yeah I am from Miral, or was I suppose, not sure they'll ever want to see me again now though but my mother did always make an amazing kalank-root soup, she said the secret ingredient was a tiny bit of blue milk to thicken it up." Giran sighed
Why was he telling her this? She was a Jedi knight she had more important things to do than listen to a Padawan's gripes. It was too late to stop now though. So, Giran just carried on talking, hoping to delay the inevitable awkward pause followed by the knight's swift retreat. "You haven't been to Miral recently, have you? I wonder if my father is still angry? Do you know him? Lucal latt? I don't suppose you would thinking about it."
while he rambled Giran grabbed anything he thought was remotely close to the ingredients from his home planet. Truth be told he preferred the more flavourful food he'd begun to try at the temple but seeing Samira had made him particularly homesick... And chatty apparently.
 

Jacob Freiso

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Ah, I've been caught Jacob thought as he felt the pressure on his shoulder. And he just found a resting place too. He shrugged and turned to his telekentic caller, a fellow Knight by the looks of it.

His offer was both a pleasant surprise and exactly what he needed, something to do. He put on a warm smile and tightened his apron
"If you don't mind" he yawned out as he stretched the last of his grogginess away. He wandered his way over to Ash and looked around for a utensil to hold, settling on a stray spatula. I look official now he thought to himself.
 

Ke Eoto

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@Tedimor Har

The Blood Carver looked back over his shoulder when he heard voice addressing him and his past predicament, his neck craning farther than it would be possible for a human. Tight eyes the color of icy waters narrowed in on Master Har as the alien recognized the Jedi superior, the flaps of his beaked snout relaxing and parting more,

"Too much tech-no-logy designed for hoo-mon fin-gers,"

Ke Eoto groaned out, the words rumbling out from within him as he bent his body in half, bowing to the Jedi Master as he turned to face Tedimor, creating wrinkles in the apron hanging off of him.

"My fin-gers not claam-sy enough."

He snorted out as if that was the root of all his problems with technology. He didn't prolonged the exchange with the Jedi Master too much however, as it was obvious that Master Har had tasks to attend to in the kitchen.

"Sere-nity and peeeas."

The Blood Carver croaked out finally to Master Har, as if reminding and advising the Jedi Master on how to be a proper Jedi before the alien shuffled off along the kitchen wall.

First Ke Eoto grabbed a stack of dirtied metal trays. With a grunt he hefted up the dishes and moved them aside, wandering off with them until he came up to a wide industrial sink and laid them within. He turned the hyper-faucet on, filling it up with water to allow the dishes to soak and added detergant. However, he did not clean them just yet, instead he washed his hands and left the sink, wandering off towards the freezer where various meats were kept. The alien clamped his break hungrily as he disappeared within the confines of cooled durasteel storage place.
 

Byron Alduun

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The first who arrived was a woman (@Die Shize) who Byron had seen frequenting the halls of the Jedi grounds. Though, at this point, seeing someone pottering around the grounds was as good as watching someone cross the road in a bustling city center – a stranger, in every sense of the word.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, popping out from the cupboard with the last pot. A sincere smile etched itself into his face, almost as if it were instinct. “How are you? Byron, if you hadn’t checked the datapad already.”

He proudly placed his hands on his hip, admiring all of the pots and pans he had retrieved, before responding to the question. “Definitely some topato stew judging by the ingredients. As for the rest? I like to just take it as it comes, you know? Put some stuff together and see what happens. There’s a lot of people on that datapad though. So we’re probably just going to make the usual.” He shrugged helplessly. Stews and soups were the go-to for the Order. Seeing as people came from all walks of life, it was the simplest option – and the one with the least disagreements.

Then, almost instantaneously, they were joined by a marvelous sample of the Order’s finest. From padawans to knights, there they were, ready for some scrumptious teamwork.

He simply nodded up at the man who arrived with a… less than exceptional greeting. (@Stratus) However, the rest: padawan and knight alike, received a wholesome greeting from Byron. A firm shake of the hand and a gentle, “Good to meet you, I’m Byron.”

The reputed @Tedimor Har received a bowing of just his head, “Master Har, always a pleasure.”

Afterwards, he turned to the rest and took the lead, just as others had done before him and just as others would do when he had caught the unfortunate garbage rotor. “Ingredients are found in the refridgerator units. Instructions for those who are new to the kitchen can be found on the datapads. It's pretty simple, but if you’re stuck, don’t be afraid to ask for help.”

By now, the room had started to get stuck into their tasks. The chitter chatter of conversations flying around the room livened up the atmosphere in front of a backdrop of chopping and sizzles from boiling soups and broths.

_
 

Samira Veleneth

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"Instructions on the datapad? Okay, lets pull those up. You figure they'd have said something earlier. That makes our job easier, doesn't it Giran?" Samira smiled, pulling up the instruction set and gazing intently over it. Cooking instructions are always weird, so different from how she learned at home.

"We can still make Kalank-root soup later, or maybe something else. I'm... intrigued by adding a foreign ingredient, though I've never liked the taste myself."

Samira stepped back a bit, giving room for the padawan to read the instructions and take the lead. She was here to assist, not override, after all. She wouldn't want to come off poorly in front of one of the masters, anyway.

(@Giran Latt )
 

Giran Latt

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Giran peered at the instructions topato soup was easy enough to make and would probably be a lot more palatable than what him and Samira had in mind. Giran collected the simple ingredient and begun. For Giran cooking was a lot like form III. He was a constant blur of motion his usual clumsy self sinking into the background. The mechanical nature of the task and a tiny bit of help from the force freed up Giran's mind for talking.
"Yeah my mother did always like to experiment in the kitchen." He chuckled "that doesn't mean she was ever any good at it though"
The simple pleasure of preparing food had put Giran back into his excellent mood of earlier and he grinned down at the vegetables he was so efficiently destroying.
"So, Samira, what brings you back to the temple?" Goran asked politely "any super secret missions you're on?"
(@Samira Veleneth)
 

Vayla Mirana

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Music OOC [Recurring]

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“Hey!” he exclaimed, popping out from the cupboard with the last pot. A sincere smile etched itself into his face, almost as if it were instinct. “How are you? Byron, if you hadn’t checked the datapad already.”

He proudly placed his hands on his hip, admiring all of the pots and pans he had retrieved, before responding to the question. “Definitely some topato stew judging by the ingredients. As for the rest? I like to just take it as it comes, you know? Put some stuff together and see what happens. There’s a lot of people on that datapad though. So we’re probably just going to make the usual.” He shrugged helplessly. Stews and soups were the go-to for the Order. Seeing as people came from all walks of life, it was the simplest option – and the one with the least disagreements.

_

“Vayla!” she bowed her head in response to the fellow knight, smiling at the simple delight of exchanging names. It was as formal a custom as it was casual. “Topato stew? How snug! Yes, that is excellent. Well, let’s get to it!”

And like that, an ensemble of cooks paraded into the kitchen, with attitudes of well-to-do and what-can-I-do? A couple of them sure seemed to know what they were doing, certainly their way around the kitchen, while at least one or two seemed a little less sure of themselves. Vayla appreciated working with teammates who were as confident in the kitchen as she was, but just as much those who needed a bit of nudging and helping, so that everyone ultimately ended the endeavor with more than one helping per person.

Strolling in behind the help was none other than Master Har, and it was his uplifting presence that drew a smile upon Vayla’s face. As Tedimor went about making his rounds, and subtle/not so subtle progress inspections, Vayla bowed her head in greeting when the two’s eyes met before promptly returning to her work. Which is…what, again? There she stood, a ladle in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other, not terribly certain what she was doing with either. She had been a tad too busy watching everyone else enter. Maybe that’s why that one individual called me a loser?

As Byron addressed the troupe, Vayla watched all of the countenances before her with as much care as concern, looking for any signs of nervousness among the younger faces in particular. Cooking was either something that one was good at or not so much, but either way it could be enjoyable. Especially as a team, when we’re all stirring spoons and flipping spatulas together. At that, a couple of individuals went about without further delay to prepare the meals, and Vayla turned back to Byron with a smile. It faded. Thoughts raced through her mind.

“Hmmm…” What, I wonder... Her eyes searched for his. Aha! “Ever had miye— ah, I mean, Pantoran seaweed soup? I’m not sure why but I suddenly have the urge to make it!”

With that, Vayla took a few paces beside Byron, skipping over the datapad as she went about pulling out ingredients and zoning in on her hands. “Mussel-broth, clams, sesame oil, garlic, onions, scallions, oh and sesame seeds too, with beef, and— well, it’s not Pantoran seaweed, but this will do nicely.” Ahh, marshes of home. How I miss you so.
 
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