milliways_bar | (no subject)

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[OOM: After frustrating fights with possible employers, Jaina wanders into Csaplar for a break and her luck changes with a chance encounter.]

Right now, is cause for celebration. Her poncho's thrown off to the side of the booth, now covered with various tools and objects as Jaina continues to work on the small scum scrubber she had brought with her from home. There's still a while before Jag comes home and today, she wants to find people to brag to.

There's a small loaf of ryshcate on the table and a glass of Whyren's to add to the celebration and every now and then, a bright smile and proud look crosses over her face while she works on the droid.

After all, this is the first time Jaina Solo Fel's ever possessed a job that doesn't involve killing other beings.

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"I pray a good deal, I hold services, I assist in surgery, and I listen to anyone who wants to speak with me." And he performs the last rites for those who need it, but sometimes he thinks foolishly that if he doesn't say it, maybe there won't be a need to perform them again. "It's really very little. But I would rather be doing it than nothing."

"And lots of people would rather sit by and watch their galaxy be invaded than even do that much."

It's been more than five years, so the words don't hold as much bitterness as they once would have. The whimsical smile on her face softens the words and Jaina cuts a piece of the ryshcate, offering it to Mulcahy.

"Try it. On Corellia - the world where my father's from - it's eaten during celebrations."

Galaxy ... invaded.

OH LOOK, CAKE.

He gladly accepts the distraction--and the cake--taking an experimental bite. He smiles appreciatively, chewing and swallowing before he asks, "Would I have any idea of what's in it? It's quite good!"

"Probably not," Jaina says, beginning to wrap up the remainder of the cake with a few napkins. "But it's a favorite among most Corellian families. Hence why the rest of this is coming home with me."

Jagged would shoot her out of the skies if he found out she had ryshcate without him.

"Wouldn't do to waste it," he agrees cheerfully. "What's it called?"

Not like he wants to know so he could order it sometime. Nope, no wayyy.

"Not when there's a full blooded Corellian with the appettite the size of a ronto waiting for me," Jaina replies with a grin, exaggerating ever so much. "It's called ryshcate."

He has no idea what she just said.

"Ryshcate." He pronounces it carefully, smiling jovially. "I'll be sure to remember that."

Probably a good thing. Jag doesn't exactly like it when she compares him to animals.

~~Unless it's in ways completely innapropriate to discuss in front of a priest.~~

"Astral. I'm glad."

~~OH GOD MY EYES.~~

He glances back toward his table, smiles at her. "I think I'll leave you to your ... scrum scubber" (well. he tried.) "and cake; I have a book calling my name." And no, it is not the Good one. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Jaina!"

~~>:D~~

"It was nice to meet you too, Fran...Father?"

She's not sure what to call him, and shrugs ever so much.

Father Mulcahy laughs merrily. "I'll answer to either, my child." He tips a hand in farewell and disappears back into his own booth.

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