Open Yavin IV The Potluck: Part Three

Drastus Drahr

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Yavin IV, Jedi Temple
(Open to all Padawans, No NARC's :P )


Like always, Drastus had been waiting for his Master to begin the final stages of his training. He didn't know what he expected with all her words and false promises, but she had expressed a desire to fix things with her Padawans and was now once again, radio silent. As he reflected, he would sigh. "What did you expect Drast.. She couldn't even talk to you.." So, Drastus was now at his little alcove training and doing his usual scheduled activities. Finishing up his most recent regimen, Drastus would wipe the sweat from his brow, bathe in the lake, and get redressed in his usual attire: A purple button up shirt, his black vest, and letharis greaves and boots. Sleeves rolled up, he would lock his chest and depart his little sanctum and head for the room he seldom used within the Temple.

Reaching the room, he would find it much as he left it: Clean. And from there would set out and gather the needed supplies. Chips, dip, a roast that he had managed to schmooze from one of the kitchen Jedi, as well as drinks. Non-alcoholic, of course. Window opened and rope ladder secured, he'd keep it bound to be thrown through the window in the event of need to get to the courtyard below where the grill was. Exiting from his room to the adjoined room, that was still requisitioned to him, he would power up the old sound system and lights.

Finally, he would send a message first and foremost to the DLX crew, informing the others of the gathering and then he would put it out over the Secret Padawan chat channels: Starcord. "Alright guys, it's that time again... You know the room number. Its time for another Potluck. Dress your best and blow off some steam." With the message sent, he'd forward it to some of his favorite Knights to hang out with and turn on the music.

Exiting back into the main room, he would pour himself a glass of Tisane and wait.

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Armen Westyll

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Armen didn’t know what the heck this potluck thing was but if the food was better than pot noodle then he couldn’t quite pass it up.

It was his first time on Yavin IV, first visit to the Jedi Temple, first rejected opportunity to meet with the Knights or the Masters or the Council or whoever to begin his training. After all, food had to come first, though Armen was sold on music.

A purple jacket (tekhelet to be technical), black shirt, grey pants, black boots, gold necklace—brown eyes that gave the door a once-over and validated the room number. Yep...this is it… Time to meet some fellow pads at the...pad…

Without further ado, Armen knocked on the door, submitting to civility, but opened it anyway. The first person he saw mattered less than the first thing he saw which was a table filled with chips and dip so that’s who he greeted first.

“That sour cream?” He sampled, satisfied. “Not bad, not bad.” With that, Armen turned to face that person, gave him a once-over. Purple shirt. Think we’re already best friends.

“Name’s Armen.” He licked sour cream from his lips. “Came for the potluck.” Nope. Just the food and drink. But we'll see.




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Clove Vanhoop

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"Alright guys, it's that time again... You know the room number. Its time for another Potluck. Dress your best and blow off some steam."

Clove rose an eyebrow, her eyes carrying a perplexed look as she studied the message shining brightly on her comlink. A party? She'd never gone to a party before, let alone a 'Potluck'. Before today she had little luck interacting with her fellow Padawans. Sure, she saw them during the training sessions, but it was hard to communicate with each other when a Jedi Knight scolded you to stay quiet. She already considered it a miracle to be invited into the Starcord.

"A party," Clove mused out loud. "A party!" Excitement struck her like a lightning bolt. She found herself in front of the small closet within a matter of seconds and began to open every drawer frantically. Dressing nicely was no issue, or maybe it was: there was so much clothing to choose from, and so little time to make a good first expression.

She ended up settling on a - slightly too long - dress created from purple Lashaa Silk, the hue matching the dotting on her cheeks. The dress itself had butterfly sleeves and a tight bodice with an open back and boning, which flowed gracefully into an a-line skirt that reached the ground with a split at the middle. Clove glanced down at herself, wondering if she overdid it: it was her mother's fanciest party dress after all. "Take it," She had told Clove, "so you have something nice to wear outside of the Jedi Temples! You never know when you need it."

"... Nah. I'll just keep the rest simple." She concluded out loud before sliding her feet into a pair of plain black kitten heel sandals. Her sandy-blonde hair hung loose, with a few tiny braids peeking through. Clove's gaze danced around the room, her mind wandering off as she tried to decide what type of food to bring along. She ended up grabbing a container of pre-made Coruscant waffles, and a large bottle of blue milk, and left her dorm.

"You know the room number." In truth, Clove didn't know the room number, but a black-haired Jedi ahead of her appeared to know the way. Silently she followed him through the hallway, at an appropriate distance to avoid looking like a creep, until he stopped in front of one of the many doors. He knocked, before opening it without waiting for an answer. As he did, a wave of music slivered through the hallway. Excitedly she rushed up to the door the moment the coast was clear, cleared her throat as if to remove any anxiety, and entered the room.

The sight of the 'party room' caused her eyes to widen in awe, and her lips curled up into a grin.
"Hello!" her voice rang out like a high-pitched bell. "I'm here for the potluck!"



 

Drastus Drahr

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Drast didn't have to wait long, and he didn't bother hiding the smirk when the first guest beelined for the dip. That and the purple jacket definitely meant that the young man had good taste. "Armen, eh? Well met. Name's Drastus." he'd say. Since it was the first time the other Padawan had either met him or looked at him, he would likely notice the burn scars along the left side of Drast's face, neck, and his exposed left forearm. "Well, help yourself to the food, there will be much more of it. Drinks are on the other table, and I got a roast cooking, so save some space for it." He'd say with a grin. Given Armen's food excitement, it was probably something different then he normally ate.

Then entered the second partygoer, a young woman he had yet to meet, but on color choice alone was already a young woman of good taste. Couple that with the overall look of the dress, exceptional taste. He would offer a nod to Armen before stepping over to her, she was another unknown to him. Probably one of the most traveled of the Padawans, his name may have been known, but his face may not have been attatched to that knowledge. "Welcome." he'd say with a smile, which seemed to be affected by the burn scars on his face. "Name's Drastus, chips and other snacks are on that table." he'd say gesturing to where Armen was. "Drinks on the one beside it.." and catching her awe at the party room, he'd smirk. ".. when it gets darker out, lights will go off and the party lights will go on. Oh and I have a roast cooking. But where are my manners. That is a beautiful dress, I'm glad people are actually dressing up. I may have to put a jacket on." he'd add with a laugh. "Please, enjoy yourself and if you need anything, do let me know."

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Sabatha Sayall

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The notification lingered on Sabatha's datapad for a while, unread and unnoticed. She was 'in' all of the padawan chat groups but more as a technicality rather than an active participant. Most padawans wanted to complain about their masters and share log-ins to illicit holonet sites. They were disappointingly resistant to the idea of baking, knitting or synthesising cordials from hybrid plants.

Nevertheless, Drastus had put out an invitation and Sab was determined to pop in, if only for a little while. Drastus had been one of the few people there who'd shown warmth and respect to her, so she wanted to say hello. After studying the message for some time, and searching on the holonet for ideas, she made her preparations.

Heading towards the 'party room,' Sabatha clung onto the cloth bag that was over her shoulder. She wore a polka dot dress in pale pink and white, with her hair hanging loose and characteristically messy. The heart pendant glimmered against her chest. Stepping inside, she noticed a few people there already, interacting with their host. Waiting for her turn patiently, Sabatha admired the 'party' aesthetic, as well as the dance music, until she had a moment.

"Hello Drastus. You're looking very smart today," she said with a dreamy smile, "I brought some things for your pot luck." She slipped the bag further down, to the crook of her elbow, as she fished some things from it. A small box that she placed on a table. A few bright looking backs.

"Those are some Starlight biscuits I baked yesterday, they're really delicious if I may say so myself," she said, pointing to the box, "and those are Mantellian Sugar Stripes. Deliciously sour but rather bad for one's teeth, as I've been warned many times." She gave a shrug at the thought of dental protection before reaching further into the bag.

"I read it was customary to bring drinks, so I thought I would try to find something special." Carefully, Sabatha pulled out a bottle of very expensive looking, aged Tevraki whiskey. There was a good three-quarters of the bottle left, amber liquid swishing alluringly as she moved it. "I once saw Master Goordayr trying to hide this surreptitiously inside the Archives. I think it will be a valuable lesson in looking after your belongings for her." Not a mote of mischief passed over Sabatha's face as she smiled and turned to the other guests.

Her entire interest was taken up by the padawan in front of her, taking her completely in. "I think that I'm in love with your dress. It's beautiful," she stated to Clove, rather manner-of-factly. "I feel slightly underdressed now."



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Brienna Lanaamer

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As twilight turned to dusk, Bri was knee deep in a particularly interesting holo-text on the Prime Jedi. Jedi history always fascinated the woman, and the more she learned about the past, the more she felt her mind open to understanding the Force. Her attention was brought back from millennia past at the sound of her communicator dinging to attention. Bri looked up and picked up the tablet, her brow furrowing in confusion. She had a message from a Padawan, Drast, who had helped her out after her ship got busted. But it was not on a standard channel of communication. It was on something called, Starcord? Bri muttered aloud, in hesitation.

"Alright guys, it's that time again... You know the room number. Its time for another Potluck. Dress your best and blow off some steam."

Tapping around on the tablet, Bri got the impression that it was a message board for Padawans to communicate on. Without the supervision of the Knights or Masters. Wait, he knows I'm not a Padawan, right? The blonde woman recalled a follow up conversation she had with Drast at the Founding barbeque. They had joked about the "party-room" on Yavin, and Bri guessed this was a courtesy invite. The memories of her own time as a Padawan refreshed in her mind. It was pleasant to form a camaraderie with other young learners, and, even break the rules once in a while. Which of course I did all the time, she thought, sarcastically.

If it was just a get-together for Padawans, then they probably wouldn't want a Knight showing up and cramping their style. But at the same time, Drast had gone out of his way to help Bri when she was in need of assistance, and the blonde woman did want to repay the favor. By bringing some sugary drinks for a few younger members of the Order to enjoy. Who knows, maybe one of them will latch on to my leg like a lost puppy and ask me to be their Master? Yeah, right.

The internal debate concluded, Bri decided to attend, but arrive fashionably late, hoping to avoid any potential awkwardness. Drast's offer was generous, and she wanted to reciprocate the kindness by showing up. Standing up, the woman caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror, the term bookworm coming to mind. Yikes.
 
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Ruzaan Kai

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Since returning from Felucia, Ruzaan had experienced a mix of good days and bad days. He'd been having more good days than bad ones recently, and today had been a good day thus far... for the most part. Ruzaan's recently-acquired datapad had been vibrating insistently for the past hour, much to the Togruta's dismay. He had no idea why it was buzzing or what to do about it. Supposedly datapads were useful for organization and communication, but thus far Ruzaan had only found it to be an annoyance.

"Here" he said, holding the datapad out towards the grey R1-series astromech trundling along behind him. "Make it stop." R1-NT beeped and whistled, but did not accept the proffered device. "Please, Runt? I honestly don't see the appeal of these things... I'll oil your servomotors later" he promised, and the droid relented.

The old astromech inserted its computer probe into the datapad, then beeped a report. Ruzaan's mood brightened instantly. "A padawan party?" Like many Togruta, Ruzaan felt a strong desire to be connected to a community; what better way to bring people together than with food? Then another thought struck him, and his face fell. "I don't know the room number, though."

R1 chirped and warbled; if droids could sound exasperated, this one certainly did. "Oh" Ruzaan said sheepishly. "Yeah, I suppose that would make sense..." Drastus Drahr's reputation spread far and wide amongst even the mechanical members of the Jedi Order, it appeared. Ruzaan smiled, and hurried off before the astromech could return the datapad. "Thanks, R1! See you later!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some 15 minutes later, Ruzaan was standing outside of Drastus's door listening to the soft tish tish tish of music floating into the hallway. He'd managed to convince one of the kitchen droids to let him take a tray of chocolate fudge brownies. so he wasn't empty-handed. His attire was simple but functional- plain, dark brown robes that contrasted with his reddish skin. From the sounds of things he wasn't the first to arrive, which was fine with Ruzaan. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and scanned the room.

He picked out Drastus almost immediately; the Corellian was easy to find in any room. His eyes then settled upon a diminutive girl with pointy ears who was wearing a gorgeous purple dress. That's pretty he thought to himself, subconsciously checking to ensure that the scar on his right forearm was covered by the sleeves of his robe. A dark-haired padawan stood not too far away, digging into the food at the table. Finally, Ruzaan smiled upon noticing Sabatha- he'd gotten to know her a little during a shared trip to Tython, and was glad that she had chosen to attend. Anyone who dismissed her because of her quirks was missing out, in his opinion.

"Hello!" Ruzaan said, greeting the assembled padawans with a small wave. He nodded pleasantly to Drastus, and placed the brownies on the table. "Thank you for the invitation!"

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Armen Westyll

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Drastus. That name was as cool as the guy’s burn scars. Armen didn’t stare at those, barely even registered them with peripheral vision, too focused on the food. Apparently there was a roast cooking. Oh I’ll save space… I got dimensional pockets just for this…

As other people began to show up, Padawans by the looks of them, Armen began to show himself to the salsa. The sour cream was swell; the salsa with the sour cream was scrumptious. The chips were crispy, the crisps were chippy, and here was a crisp and chipper Padawan.

It was cool that conversation was carried on between the others instead of Armen. He was quite content to show himself to more food. That changed a notch as food came his way instead of the other way around. Biscuits? Brownies? Sugar Stripes?

Suddenly Armen began to realize what the word “Potluck” meant. Nope, still don’t have a kriffing clue what that word means, but it apparently involves bringing food to the party. With that, he reached into his coat (the purple one), rummaged through some pockets, came out with . . .

“I brought…” He sniffed toward his hand, not to smell what it held so much as to sniff away his shame. “...I mean...the crackers were whole before my pocket crushed them…I think...”

They weren’t biscuits or brownies but they were edible at least. I think...



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Clove Vanhoop

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Clove managed to shift her attention away from the 'party room' when a tall Jedi approached her. She noticed the scar above his lips move with every word he spoke to her. A look of curiosity fell on her face, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. Clove repeated his name after him, puzzled as to where she'd heard the name previously. And then it clicked. "Oh, I know! I've seen you walk down the hallways before! Somebody was calling out your name. I'm Clove, it's lovely to meet you." She followed his motion to the black-haired boy standing near the chips and snacks table. With a chuckle from her lips, her attention snapped back towards Drastus.

"Party lights—" Her eyes grew even wider. "I haven't seen those in ages. And a roast... You already have the best party ever, Drastus!" The excitement tingling through Clove's body prompted her cheeks to flush a deep red with hints of purple. Drastus' compliment intensified the depth of the red even further."Oh— Thank you."She replied quietly, almost dismissively, before returning to her usual bright demeanor. "I don't think you need a jacket, you look wonderful! I love the purple, it brings out the warm tones of your skin incredibly well! Speaking of, it seems like we aren't the only one wearing purple tonight."She giggled yet again. "I'll go and place the food down!" She dismissed herself, noticing the line of people behind her.

The half-Sephi's heart fluttered with each step she took to the tables. The party reminded her of countless parties thrown at the resort; it reminded her of home. She arranged the waffles and blue milk on the tables and contemplated saying hello to the black-haired Padawan—who appeared to be studying the salsa and chips. She became aware of a new person entering the room, followed by a "Hello!" and the addition of brownies. Clove made a half-hearted gesture with her hand before returning to her musings surrounding the food-focused boy next to her.

Clove was jolted out of her musings by the sound of a lighter voice. She turned around to the source of the voice and noticed a blonde girl with bright silver eyes fixed on her. Clove's facial expression went through a wash of different emotions—embarrassment, shame, and excitement—before settling on astonishment, while the beauty of the half-Echani dawned on her. Clove took a step forward, her head shaking. "Oh no, you shouldn't say that! Take a look at yourself, you're just lovely. I really like your dress; the delicate pink really draws attention to your eyes. And your necklace is so pretty!" She remarked—or, to be more honest, rambled—before falling silent. Her thoughts had already begun to wander, replaced by daydream images of herself and the half-Echani trying on the oddest clothing pieces while eating freshly baked cookies.

Cookies? Where did that come from? Her daydream was shattered when the fragrance of something baked reached her nose, jolting her back to reality. Her eyes traveled towards the food table, tracing the source of the scent, where she noticed a new box with biscuits. Clove's gaze returned to the young lady. "Did you make those? I don't recall seeing biscuits like that in our kitchen! Oh, I forgot, I'm Clove."




 
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Arctus Friers

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He was out of his depth and it showed in the way he found himself standing outside his fellow Padawan's room, carrying a tray Padawan Maiko Sigur had thrust upon him with so much care and attention. To be fair the chocolate gâteau the Sorgan native baked looked absolutely divine, and the teenager had talked almost non-stop about things like "It has fourteen layers!" and "I had to bake that in secret!" before persuading Arctus into attending Drastus's party in his stead. The little sunshine dude had been called for a sudden mission with his Master – the Morellian Councilor Alexandria Voran, if the former smuggler remembered correctly – to Kashyyyk.

It took the former smuggler by surprise when Maiko just... bullied him into attending said party. It was so unlike the sunshiny, gentle kid he was known as around the Temple, and when Arctus had joked about telling Councilor Voran about the, er, bullying, Maiko simply shot the older Padawan a boyish grin.

"No one will believe you, kuya Arctus," Maiko had told him mischievously. "And I thought you wanna be on 'okay terms' with Drastus and Felix since you're both Master Sati's students? Now go! Shoo! Master Alex is waiting for me!"

...and there went the young man, clutching his beanie and leaving Arctus standing in the middle of the hall, tray of cake in both hands.

"What... What the hell does 'coo-yah' even mean...?" the former smuggler asked himself while contemplating if he should just walk in or announce his arrival first. Arctus had been meaning to talk to his fellow Padawans – more so the potluck's organizer. Felix had been nice to Arctus during that Talk with Indy. Well, as nice as someone accepting your hand when you offered it. Drastus, on the other hand...

If Arctus was being honest with himself, he had no idea where his fellow Padawan's dislike for the former smuggler was coming from. With that being said, he had no idea how to climb the walls that separated them – and it was a wall he wanted to cross over so badly. He wanted to be friends with both Drastus and Felix, not just to ease the concerns Indy might have with regards to her Padawan learners.

Arctus really, really wanted to be called their friends despite being a decade older than them.

The thought wasn't as articulate as he wanted, but the message was genuine all the same.

Taking a deep, fortifying breath, the older Padawan decided to bite his doubts and fears and stepped inside the room with the confidence of a shy loth-kitten, a friendly smile plastered on his face.

"Hi," he announced to no one in particular. Arctus lifted the cake a little higher, and said with a hopeful shrug, "Er... Maiko sent this. Said he's sorry he won't be able to attend because he'll be going on a mission with Councilor Voran." The former smuggler went straight for the table and carefully placed the tray of cake ("With fourteen layers! Fourteen!" Maiko's cheerful voice popped up in Arctus's mind) upon it after making some room. Then, to the Padawans he hadn't come the honor of meeting yet, "I'm Padawan Arctus Friers. Nice to meet ya."

–and the former smuggler promptly walked back where he came from, stationed by the doorway in case he wasn't welcome. The thought stung, but he would respect Drastus's decision if he didn't want an... old man raining in on his party.

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Drastus Drahr

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Drast would smirk at Clove's description of where she had known his name. "Easy there, people around here might think I'm a streetwalker with a description like that. Clove? Well the name fits, it's lovely." Her excitement would make him smile, then laugh. "Well, I'm a gutter rat from Corellia, so I figure if I can't read, I can least show the Jedi how to party, yeah?" Her giggle and her demeanor made him think of Sabatha, and how the two would be fast friends if the latter arrived.

"Well, purple is a great color and I don't think anyone can look bad wearing it. In fact, your dress makes your beauty marks pop." He'd say with his gaze shifting over the purple dots. He wouldn't point. That was rude. "Some say purple is meant for royalty, but my people say it's for luck." Noticing her slight gaze at his burns he would run a hand around the outline. "These were a gift from Denon, a reminder to the villainy of the Sith. But, that isn't what this party is about. Enjoy the food, drinks, music and the comraderie." he would say with a slight bow of his head before he heard another familiar voice.

Smiling widely, he turned to the source and his arms spread wide before he hugged the younger Padawan tightly. "Sabatha! And you are an absolute vision in that dress!" He'd respond as he pulled away from her. "Biscuits, I will try one -right- now." He'd say with a grin and took one from the container. Then she did the thing he never would have expected of her. Biscuits, sugar, those were definitely her wheelhouse. Snatching liquor from a Jedi librarian?! That shook him. In a good way. And his free hand would wipe an imaginary tear from under his eye before he grinned and took the bottle from her. "We'll hide this, but I'll pour ya a glass. I am so proud of you." he'd add in a playful tone. Drast would then gesture her into the rest of the party. "Food is on that table, drinks the one beside it, and once more people arrive I'll turn the lights off and play the light show in the dance room. I'm happy you could make it."

He would briefly take a moment to stash the bottle, but not before pouring two glasses, and handing one off to Sabatha as he passed her on the way to the door to greet the new guests. If she took the glass and Clove looked interested in it, he'd offer his own glass to Clove. If Sabatha didn't take the glass, he'd then offer it to Clove, if she had some interest in it. And if neither lady wanted the glass, it was a party and Drast wasn't afraid to double fist.

Reaching the doorway he'd offer a smile to Ruz, making sure his hands were free to offer a hand shake, offering up his left hand. "I do believe that I remember you. We thought you were gonna return. Now don't tell me... Ruuzan, correct?" If the Togrutan Padawan reached for the handshake, Drastus would grip the young mans forearm instead, and lean in, his voice low so only Ruz could hear. "Hey, if you need anyone to talk to about Felucia, that isn't a Knight or higher. My door is open. I know what fierce battles can leave behind."

Then Drast heard a voice, that quite frankly, he did not want to hear. Ever. But his mastery of his emotions due to dealing with a Zeltron, had not only tempered the young man, but kept his face looking serene and jovial. He would note Arctus standing near the door and waiting for him, which was appreciated as he didn't want to be swarmed by guests.


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Sabatha Sayall

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Clove introduced herself with effusive praise towards Sabatha's own appearance. She looked down at herself, smoothing out her dress a little more, before returning the smile. She fingered her heart-pendant absent-mindedly. "Thank you. It's very sweet of you to notice. And yes, I did make those cookies, you're more than welcome to try one. I'm Sabatha, it's very nice to meet you." Another smile. "Clove is a lovely name."

She noticed Ruzaan entering and smiled back, giving him a little wave from beside Clove as she took the glass that Drastus offered. "Oh, thank you. I'll give it a try." She raised it to her lips and took a sip, feeling the warm liquid slide down the back of her throat. It burned. Her eyes widened slightly as she froze, feeling something like molten metal slowly oozing inside her chest towards her stomach.

"Oh wow. I don't think this is my thing, really," she said, looking down at the near-filled glass, with just a hint of smeared coral lip-gloss on the top. "I feel like my stomach is burning. Not optimal," she admitted, offering her glass to Clove if she wanted it, or just choosing to leave it on a nearby counter. "It'd be a shame to waste it. I'm quite sure someone else will want something to drink like that."

Instead, her attention turned towards the growing pile of food. A cake had appeared with a challenging number of layers to it, which seemed more Sabatha's cup of tea. Some brownies that Ruzaan had helpfully brought, as well as other things from other people. She noticed a young-ish guy inspecting his crumb-filled pockets, looking a little sheepish. She beckoned him over as she opened up some of the sweet treats.

"It would be a shame to leave this all unguarded. I think we better look after the sweets as best we can. Maybe someone smuggled in some fizzy drinks somewhere. The non-alcoholic kind for me, I don't find grown-up drinks all that appealing," she explained to Clove, as she tried to slip her arm through the other padawan's. "While we're there, you can tell me how you keep your hair so full and bright. The moisture in the air plays havoc with mine, I find."

That, and the general lack of care or notice of her own appearance.



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Ruzaan Kai

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Ruzaan was startled- both when Drastus remembered his name, and again when the Corellian pulled him close and offered a listening ear. As far as Ruzaan was concerned, Drastus didn't always set a good example for other padawans; especially when it came to processing emotions in a healthy way. The Corellian buried a lot behind his winning smile and that alone made Ruzaan hesitant to open up to him. However, the offer seemed genuine, so the Togruta simply smiled and murmured his thanks.

Then, as Arcttus announced his presence, Ruzaan felt the mood in the room change. Although he was not a Zeltron, Togruta were social creatures, and he was aware that the dynamic had just shifted. That just left the question: Why? A quick glance around the room narrowed down his guess; Sabatha wouldn't hurt a fly, and Clove looked like she drank liquid joy in the morning instead of caf. The other padawan Arm...? Armen! was contemplating a packet of crushed crackers as if it was magically going to turn into something else. That left Drastus, whose demeanor hadn't changed. Arctus' retreat to the doorway, however, was a dead giveaway that something was off between the former smuggler and the Corellian.

Ruzaan had met Arctus on a couple of different occasions, and he still wasn't sure what to make of the older padawan. Ruzaan had to commend him for his decision to become a padawan, despite many of the recent initiates being at least ten years his junior. However, the former smuggler also carried some kind of conflict within himself that worried Ruzaan. Behind a disarming, if world-weary, façade, it was as if what Arctus feared most was himself. That, combined with Arctus' strong protective instincts, meant that he rarely let anyone close, which in Ruzaan's opinion only served to isolate him more. Still, this was supposed to be a padawan social, and Arctus was a padawan regardless of the year on his ID card or the beef he may or may not have with Drsatus.

Ruzaan decided to stick his neck out, figuratively speaking. A big smile broke out over his face, and he beckoned Arctus to step further into the room. "Arctus! Glad you could make it. That's the tallest cake I've ever seen!"

@Forsythe Crowholde @Rhogar @LilyNion @Charndley @Die Shize
 

Reese Damado

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Jedi Order
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Jedi Padawan

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Tulos
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Bounding down the halls with the excitement of a young boy on Life Day, Reese’s beaming grin had grown larger than he could ever recall. He had only just arrived on Yavin IV, his tattered and grimy clothes had been taken to be cleaned, or more likely confiscated and incinerated, being replaced by a clean white tunic and tan trousers, cinched tight with a rope-like belt. His normally tousled and dirty black hair had been washed though he felt no need to style it this way or that but rather let it do as it wished. The Mirialan could care less about his appearance, the excitement of simply being here dominating every inch of his mind though the shower he had taken was far from underappreciated. For the first time in years, his path had an upward trajectory. He wouldn’t be sleeping on a bench or under some brush but in a real bed. Yes, it seemed everything was coming up Reese… for once.

Having been denied the opportunity to speak to any of those in charge for the time being, the Mirialan was left to his own devices for the evening. He had spent this time moving from one wing of the temple to the other, stopping at the occasional balcony to take in the sights of the forest below. The moon was beautiful, unlike anything he had ever seen before, but there was one thing missing; back on Tanaab, he at least had the company of the other street kids he had come to know. All he saw here were varying species of Jedi Knights, meditating or hustling about their research, or the Temple Guards walking the halls with diligence to their duties. Not once did he see someone even remotely near his age.

”Uptight place, isn’t it?” Reese whispered to himself with a smirk as he leaned across the balcony railing, glancing over his shoulder to the people passing behind him. Turning back to the forest, the Mirialan closed his eyes and drew in the fresh air. It was something he hadn’t experienced since he had left Saleucami and he was caught off guard by how much he had missed it. ”Sure is quiet, though…” he continued, unsure if he was going to ever really adjust to such a peaceful environment again after all he had been through.

Here Reese would stay for a moment, trying to allow himself to relax and settle into what was looking to be his new home but the sounds of a door sliding open behind him and allowing the music from within to seep out into the hall caught his ear. He hadn’t heard anything like that since his arrival this morning and his curiosity peaked. Turning from the balcony and back into the temple, he silently moved along as he dragged his fingertips across the wall. In time he would find the door in question, the music only just barely audible to him on the opposite side. Over the melodies, he could hear voices. Young voices. Stepping back and looking at the steel that divided him from his peers, Reese pondered if he should simply invite himself in. Of course, he couldn’t simply show up empty handed. Spotting a serving droid carrying a bowl of fruit down the hall, the Mirialan made up his mind and quickly moved to catch up, coming in behind the unit.

”Thanks!” Reese declared as he spun around the droid, wrapping his hands around the bowl and tugging it away before setting back towards the door he had singled out. Fortunately for him, the droid was slow moving and before it could turn to see who had relieved it of its goods, he was long gone.

The door would slide open and Reese would see the group of Padawan’s congregating together. Cake, brownies, chips, drinks. It looked like everyone had been getting on with each other quite well. And yet, he was nervous. He knew no one here and while he had learned how to socialize with other street urchins, these people were of a new variety. Standing awkwardly in the door, the bowl of fruit held in front of him with both hands, violet eyes scanned the crowd as he tried to find his voice. ”Uh… I hope… I hope it’s alright if I just let myself in?” he asked no one specifically as the door slid shut behind him.
 

Brienna Lanaamer

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ModernMarvel
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Bri re-read the message on her holopad from Drast. I have absolutely no idea what qualifies as 'dressing your best' to a Padawan. Wait...why do I care...? She ran her fingers through the various articles of clothing her her closet, most of which were Jedi robes and tunics of varying colors of brown and tan. Spending over a decade with the Jedi tended to have a homogenizing affect on one's wardrobe. With a sigh, Bri picked out a pair of tight, dark pants and matching top, picking a more stylish back and brown blazer to put over it. She turned back to the mirror, and ran her hands through her hair a few times, ensuring 'bookworm' was no longer an applicable description of her appearance.

"Potluck....potluck..." she muttered, leaving her dorm room, trying to manifest a few ideas of what to bring. Dining hall is probably the best place to start. Not many on Yavin really cooked their own meals, relying on the quite capable kitchen staff to feed the many hungry mouths. Surely they'll be alright with me taking just a few things. Bri smiled her way past a few of the droids and workers, pausing by the refrigerators. Alcohol was probably not a good thing to bring to the Padawan's, and the repercussions from the Jedi elders wouldn't be great. But any kind of soda? That'll probably do.

The blonde Jedi recalled in a past conversation that Drast had mentioned where the location of his room was. Bri walked the stone corridors, and it didn't take long before she heard the low thrum, becoming louder as she walked, of music emanating out one particular door. Guess this is probably it.

Bri entered the room, finding a decent number of Padawan's, of varying age, scattered around and mingling. The blonde Jedi didn't announce herself or anything, but smiled and nodded in greeting to those she walked past. I hope they don't think I'm here to rat them out or anything. She made it to the kitchen and deposited her two containers of soda on the table, spotting a few trays of cookies. "Ooh!"

@Tulos @SlagathorTheUnknown @Charndley @Forsythe Crowholde @LilyNion @Die Shize @Rhogar
 

Drastus Drahr

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Rhogar
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Drast would give the Togrutan a squeeze on the shoulder before his gaze shifted to Arctus, who he also waved to to come deeper into the party. With Ruz running to talk to Arc, he'd make a note to eventually make his way to the older Padawan. After all, Drast was not one to interrupt people.

That's when someone new entered. Granted, there were a few new faces here already, but this kid looked new. And he reminded Drast of well... a younger him. So the Corellian would walk over to where the new kid exited, flashing the Mirialan a friendly smile. "Hey, this is a gathering for us, so no need to be worried about it." He would offer a hand to the newcomer, the tattoos peeking out from behind the unbuttoned top buttons of his shirt as well as the exposed tattoos on his forearms and neck. "Name's Drastus. Welcome to my humble abode." He'd gesture to the table where Armen, Clove, and Sabatha were. "Food and snacks are over there, drink table is right behind them, and dance floor is in the adjoining room." A grin. "Make yourself comfortable and if you're going to introduce yourself to anyone first, I'd hit up the snack table. Some of the purest souls in the Order are over there."

He'd be sure to give Reese the time to respond and introduce himself and then and only then, would he move give the Padawan a nod of the head and pat on the back before stepping to greet the newest entry. Drasts face would brighten when a few moments later, an older female entered the room: Bri.

By the time he crossed the room to where she was, she was already by the food table. "Bri! You made it!" He'd say with some genuine joy as he waited for her to empty her hands than hugged the Knight. It was brief, respectful, and genuine happiness. "And I see you rose to the challenge. Ten out of ten on the getup and I love what you did with your hair." He would laugh a bit before grabbing a glass of tisane. "Welcome to one of the infamous potlucks."

@SlagathorTheUnknown @Forsythe Crowholde @ModernMarvel @Tulos
 

Librarian Helen Summers

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TheLightInTheDarkness
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The potlucks of the padawans weren't as hidden as they would presume. Because two older Jedi had known about them for a while. Rupert had dropped off snacks before and Helen had picked up on some gossip in the Archives. Which lead to where she was now, outside of Ruperts room. Dressed in her usual Jedi robes, the only thing signaling she was clearly in her leisurely hours was the fact that in one hand she held cookies, and in the other a cocktail of some sort. Helen had hoped to perhaps take a Padawan from the party under her wing, she was old and wanted to train atleast one young padawan before her life force was halted. And it merely happened that Ruppert suggested they walk down and bring snacks together after the two had ran into eachother whilst going about their duty. And while Helen was mostly a stickler for the rules (that mattered) Rupert’s smiling face and amazing Slippers had lured her in, leaving her where she is now. She knew he’d be out any moment, and tried to look cool. He was more hip with the youth then she was, so she hoped that his youthful energy would rub off on her.

When he eventually would come out, she would nod hello and smile at him.
 

Clove Vanhoop

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Independent
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Veterinarian

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LilyNion
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"Sabatha, it's so nice to meet you! You are so sweet, thank you. Your name is also wonderful! Very charming." Clove replied to Sabatha's warm-hearted words with a similar tone whilst leaning toward the biscuit box. Her fingers fished one from the pile and lifted it to examine it, her eyes reflecting her thoughts: These look incredible! She took a hungering bite, and not long after, her lips curled into a blissful grin. "Sabatha, these are incredible! It reminds me of freshly baked biscuits you buy from a bakery."

Drastus, who offered Sabatha a drink, drew her attention. Her grin brightened as she looked at the girl, whose silver eyes had widened as a result of the alcohol. Clove received the glass not long after. "It would indeed be a shame." She remarked, before placing her own lips against the glass—avoiding the coral-colored smear—and taking a curious sip. The liquid burned into the back of her throat, before making its way to her stomach, leaving a warm sensation that was almost pleasant. She coughed and cleared her prickling throat, unable to enjoy the warmth. "Oh— Let's just... Place this on the table. You're right, I'm sure someone else will enjoy this more than we will." She reasoned as she placed the glass on the nearby counter.

The half-Sephi accepted Sabatha's arm as it hooked around hers while she happily listened to her talk. "I agree that we must safeguard the sweets! It's not weird you avoid the grownup drinks; it's pretty... yucky. My throat still itches." She grew silent at the sight of a large cake Sabatha had been eyeing for a moment. It looked delicious and to die for, exactly the sort of thing Clove would devour in seconds. However, she resisted the monstrous temptation and looked around the room for the cake's owner. Then she noticed an older Padawan, who stood near the door with the bravery of a small cat. It was endearing, truly. She raised her free arm in the air to wave to him with a warm and bright beam spread over her face, making a mental note to introduce herself later tonight.

She continued to look around the room after that. During the girl's fashion discussion, a Mirialan with bright violet eyes and awkward body language, a taller mature-looking woman with honey-blonde hair and drowning eyes, and a kind older-looking woman with a cocktail in her hand all arrived. This had become a very diverse group. She found herself smiling at each of them, curious where the night would take them.

Clove's gaze was drawn back to Sabatha, who had started a talk about her hair. Slowly, she moved to the other side of the food table with light steps, her arm still entwined with the other Padawan's. "I think your hair is beautiful, but leave-in conditioners are a lifesaver when it comes to moisture protection. I make my own shampoo and conditioner, which helps with the brightness." She mused for a moment before tilting her head to the left with a mystified expression. "I can make you a bottle if you want?"

Before taking another bite, the half-Sephi twirled the biscuit in her hand. "If I may be so curious, and you are totally free to say no, does your pendant hold a special meaning? I noticed you caressing it."





 
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Ruzaan Kai

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Jedi Padawan

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SlagathorTheUnknown
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Ruzaan would double down on his invitation to Arctus by making his way over towards the older padawan, leaving Drastus to his hosting duties.

"How have you been since we last saw each other? It's been a while" Ruzaan said, smiling at Arctus. The former smuggler stood only a couple inches taller than Ruzaan, but to the Togruta his presence loomed even larger- Arctus was someone he could look up to and trust.

@Forsythe Crowholde
 

Arctus Friers

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Jedi Knight

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Forsythe Crowholde
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Arctus felt a mixture of hope and foolishness as his gaze fell on each face in the room. Hope, because there were faces he knew aside from Drastus – he'd met Ruuzan on a few occasions around the Temple. As far as the former smuggler could tell the Togruta was a nice kid. He was aware that he'd given the younger Padawan a scare that time when they were helping Master Venn in the orchard, but Arctus was hesitant (and rightly so) to open up about the mental battle he'd found himself in that time. Out of everyone here in the Temple only Indy knew what was really going on with the former smuggler, his battle against the Dark Side that had planted Itself firmly in his psyche a secret he didn't want exposed.

Then came Libriarian Summers whom Arctus had worked with on a mission to Kessel. For an archivist, the old lady seemed to welcome violence so easily. Granted, she was decades his senior and must have seen some horrible shite but her words both worried and intrigued the former smuggler.

On the other hand he felt foolish because he knew that he would always be out of place, barring his age in contrast with his fellow Padawans. Arctus knew that he should treat himself kindly, but it was difficult to do so sometimes when part of him still believed in the poisoned words the Dark Side whispered to him every now and again. There were times when he could shut them out so easily. And when he couldn't?

It felt as if he was letting down the very few people who believed and gave an actual shite that he could change.

Arctus visibly brightened when he heard Ruuzan's greeting, a genuine smile crossing the former smuggler's face when the latter beckoned at him to scrap his post and mingle with the others further into the room. He lifted a hand, waving back at the Togruta then at the tiny (Tiny!) half-Sephi whose arm was linked with another female Padawan. The urge to just walk out and leave dissipated at the gestures of the other two Padawans. When Drastus lifted his gaze to look at Arctus the older Padawan waved at him, too, smile turning a little hopeful as he watched the host turn to tend to his other guests.

Alright... that's something, I guess, he thought to himself, hazel grey eyes meeting Ruuzan's. Artcus met the younger Padawan halfway, smile turning into a boyish grin.

"Mate, I should bring you to Corellia sometimes. My Ma owns a diner and she makes cakes as tall as that–" said Arctus, gesturing at the cake he'd been ordered to take "–and even taller ones! Kinda wish I baked the one I carried, though. I got turned into a delivery boy by another Padawan, to be honest – he's responsible for that one."

Leaning down slightly towards his fellow Padawan, the former smuggler whispered conspiratorially, "I didn't bring anything at all, actually... but please don't tell anyone."

With a light chuckle Arctus straightened back to his full height then made his way towards the table laden with goods. He caught sight of the liquor the two girls abandoned but he resisted the urge to swipe a bottle. Instead he focused back at Ruuzan to answer the latter's question about his well-being.

"True, that. I'm doing good. Keeping up with the instructions and training Ind– Master Sati gives me. Didn't realize the Jedi's into meditating, but it works for me."

Sometimes,
he wanted to add, but figured that it would only raise more questions.

"What about you? And how's your training going on?"

@SlagathorTheUnknown @LilyNion @Rhogar
 
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