milliways_bar | (no subject)

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bonnie murdock

(no subject)

It came to Bonnie's attention recently, while she was helping supply pie for Life Support, that some folks around here are short of food.

So, today, she has set up a table on one side of the bar, with another large baking of pies, plus some of her spare apples, and some jars of jams and pickles. She carefully covers the pies to stop any errant flies buzzing over them.

She sets up a sign behind the table.

'HARVEST FESTIVAL

Are you a keen gardener who would like to trade one food for another?

Do you have a lot of spare food that will otherwise go to waste?

Are you someone who just needs no excuse to bake?

BRING YOUR EXTRA FOOD HERE
TAKE WHAT YOU NEED

Trade crops and avoid waste. If you are hungry, if you are short of food, please, help yourself. No eligibility questions asked. Any spare food at the end will be given to the bar to be distributed later to those who are hungry.

Suggested items: Fruit and veg, baked goods, dried goods, canned goods
Please no: Out of date food, foods that need to be kept hot or cold, items inedible to humans (or at very least please label as such), magic prank food, blood products or products made from humans, medicines, junk.'

There are takeaway boxes and bowls and spoons provided.

[ooc: Treat this as a miniature impromptu party post, threadhopping encouraged.]

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"Why should it become rare in the future?" Dorian says. "Are there no trees or rags on the planets out in space?"

"No need for it. When datapads and holocroms can hold whole libraries in the palm of your hand."

"That is practical," Dorian says, "but how do you give books as a loan or gift to your friends?"

"Download them onto a datachip." He answers, perplexed why that's a confusing concept. He asks the bar for one, handing Dorian a little slither of duraplast about the length of his finger. "That will hold two or three books. Or a holodrama."

"Holodrama?" Dorian says. "You can see a play with that thing? Like the machine over the bar, what is it called, television?"

"Something like that, only less flat. I have some in my room if you'd like to see?"

"I'd be honoured," Dorian says, smiling at Bodhi.

The man from space is a bit scruffy, but very lovely underneath. Those eyes!

Bodhi doesn't thing anything of it. He just keeps his holovids upstairs.

He leads Dorian back to his room, scooping Kyber up as the kitten comes tearing at him as soon as the door is open. The rooms are neat and airy, with a bit balcony garden.

"I don't have very many." He sorts through the crystals, trying to work out what Dorian might enjoy. "Some old detective stories I like. A recording of a Twi'lek poetry slam. This one is the story of a Jedi and his bounty hunter lover during the Clone Wars. It's a bit overly dramatic but I loved it when I was a kid." He really should update his collection.

Dorian looks around. Somehow, the room looks as if two people were living here.

"I like the sound of the last one," he says. "It sounds so very space-y and alien."

It somewhat is. Something Bodhi never thought to explain because it hasn't occurred to him that Dorian might have any interest in him, beyond seeing a holovid or learning about other places.

He sets up the projector, the image of a young human Jedi padawan flickers into view. It's an expensive projector and a remastered copy so the 3D image is in colour and crisp as the Jedi works through a lightsaber kata.

The plot is almost operatically silly. The padawan falls in love with a golden skinned Zabrak street thief, meeting in secret till they promise to marry. On the night he's meant to sneak out to be with her, his master calls him away to take the trials to become a knight and after much antagonising, he chooses his commitment to the Order and leave her at the altar.

Years later, in the midst of the Clone Wars, he's suffering silently but deeply with the choice with had lead him into war but unexpectedly meets her again. She's focused her hurt into rage and has become a bounty hunter, complete with red Dathomiri facial tattoos. A Sith warlord pays her to hunt down the Jedi and she takes to the job all too gleefully.

They meet, they fight. She spits hate at him for breaking her heart. He suffers heroically, blaming himself for what she's become. In the end, he flees rather than face her.

But she peruses and they meet again on another battle field. He pours out his undying love but she presses the attack.

At the very last moment, he's forced to defend himself or die and strikes out, the blow landing harder than he'd hoped. Dying, she confesses she loves him too, in a shockingly long speech. He vows they will be together again in the Force and takes his own life, falling on his blade to be with her.

It's awful. And Bodhi loves it.

Dorian completely loves it. Such drama -- such feelings -- so much tragedy.

He's riveted throughout.

From their spot on the couch, they end up with company. The ginger and white kitten on his back on Bodhi's lap, happily gnawing on Bodhi's fingers. And a larger black cat who drapes herself along the back of the couch.

Bodhi watches happily, silently mouthing the words to some of the speeches.

"It's silly, I know but- It was the first full holo I ever saw. And I've always loved it."

"It's a wonderful story," Dorian says, reaching out to tickle the kitten's chin. "And you've got the most amazing cats to keep us company. He's so sweet, and she is so beautiful and majestic!"

"This is Kyber and she's Myrrh." Kyber had new fingers to attack and is making the most of it. "I owe Myrrh my life."

"She is very beautiful, like an incarnation of the Lady Bastet of Egypt," Dorian says. "There is a intensely majestic statuette of her in the British Museum that I visit every time I go there. She may well be an avatar of hers, if she saved your life. How did she do that?"

"Lady Bastet? I haven't been to a museum in a very long time."

He gives Myrrh a pat, his sleeve riding up to show the scar at his wrist. "She... knew I needed help. She went and found someone and brought them to me. And she's been helping me look after Kyber."

"The cat goddess of Ancient Egypt," Dorian says. "The Egyptians worshipped cats, and buried them like humans when they died. Killing a cat was considered murder."

"As it should be." He hugs Kyber protectively. It's clear he's horrified by the thought of anyone hurting his cats.

"I think we have one Egyptian god coming here, Thoth, the god of science, writing and words," Dorian muses.

"Really?" He smiles, playing with Kyber as the kitten stalks his fingers. "I've never seen him."

Dorian offers his fingers to the beautiful black cat, Myrrh.

"Sometimes he has a head like an ibis, a long-beaked bird," he says. "Most of the Egyptian pantheon have animal heads, or alternative animal forms."

Myrrh purrs and smooches Dorian's hand. "No wonder they worshipped cats. Are there gods like that in England?"

Dorian laughs. "No, our religion is quite drab and joyless," he says. "With one single god who forbids everything that's fun. But he's probably not real, anyway."

Bodhi glances up at the tapestry on the wall. The bright colours of the Way of the Whills. It belongs to Galen but it's from Bodhi's world. "Gods are only real to people who can feel them. Like the Force." His voice is soft and distant.

"In England, God isn't to be felt," Dorian says. "There's a holy book that purports to be his word, and there are preachers who have the privilege of interpreting. You are expected to understand, not experience. You get a lecture about heaven instead of a glimpse of heaven. Out senses are denied."

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