A Leather Couch (James Prent)

[J'ktal Anajii]

Towels dried best when hung slightly ruffled on the bar. Soap scum doesn't build up if you squeegee the door immediately after the shower. Fresh socks and underwear should be laid on the counter under your other clothes so no steam gets them moist while you shower. Comb your fur immediately after toweling off, otherwise it get mussed easier. Two mintues with a toothbrush, no less, then wait thirty seconds before using mouthwash to let the toothpaste to its best work.

Line after line of commands ran through the Death-Shadow's head as he dried and dressed himself after a shower. The spar had been interesting, and it still lingered at the back of his mind as he went through his process of grooming. Four times he ran a comb through his headfur, and he took extra care on the two long locks in the front. Then came on his black, button-down dress shirt and he combed it all again. Claws were filed and polished, eyedrops administered and his facial fur finely trimmed. A Death-Shadow should always look professional. There is no excuse for laziness in appearance.

Charcoal gray slacks slid up his legs, secured with a black belt of tooled snakeskin before he sat down on a small stool to pull on his black socks--right first, then left. He combed his hair once more.

The rest of his apartment, while twice the size of a standard Jedi's chambers, had been fully re-furnished and adorned to his taste, even though he ahd only been back for a short while. While dark, the spacious living room held an intimate atmosphere. Modern furniture mixed with antique rugs and fixtures, with art of his homeworld decorating the walls and tabletops. Some new pieces, some antique or ancient, all held a value to him, even if several were rather grisly in nature. One wall, usually reserved for an entertaiment center, was comprised soley of racks of weapons of various design. Most bladed, though several firearms of various ages and models were mixed among them, all surrounding an antique suit of armor from his homeworld.

The kitchen appeared straight out of a modern living magazine, fully-stocked and furnished. Dark gray granite coutnertops reflected teakwood cabinets and burnished steel-plate covered appliances. Nothing was done half-rate in his home. J'ktal had spent enough money to ensure that. Racks of wine were visible through several glass-fronted cabinets, and one old, brass-screened cabinet held rows upon rows of old bottles, some so caked and pitted with dust that they appeared made of it. A heavy lock graced its front, while stacks of ancient, leatherbound and hand-written books found home atop it.

Sliding his socked footpaws into a pair of fine leather slippers, J'ktal turned off the lights in his pure white bathroom--the only truly light room in the entire abode--and headed trhough his bedroom and into the kitchen where he set a kettle onto the stove to boil. He was expecting a guest, whether she knew it or not yet.

[James Prent]

James stepped out of the sonic shower feeling refreshed, if not a little ionized. She gave her body a shake to rid herself of the tingling feeling that lingered, and then scrubbed her hand through her hair as she looked into the mirror. It was getting a little long, but she didn't have time to get a haircut. Maybe tomorrow... She tamed her locks with a hairband, and quickly pulled on the rest of her clothes.

She'd taken to wearing traditional Jedi robes, knowing that they were tied to tradition as well as practicality. They were warm when it was cold, cool during summer, and did not hinder movement in any direction. Plus, it was advantageous these days to be known as a Jedi. There was so much uproar about 'Sith' and 'Dark Jedi' that she felt that to be known as a Force user but caught out of Jedi apparel might be dangerous.

With a practised hand she tied the obi about her slim waist, and dabbed on a bit of lip gloss. The Jedi Knight threw her training clothes into the hamper, and exited her refresher.

Walking across her sitting room, she still found it hard to believe that this whole space was hers. She had never lived in an apartment before - at least, not one with different rooms. After moving to the Temple she'd been given a small one room studio off of her master's rooms, and had been thrilled with that. But now - a sitting room, kitchen, 'fresher and bedroom all to herself! She still hadn't had time to decorate, except for a few holomovie posters that she'd tacked above her sofa in the sitting room.

In the kitchen she pulled open the refridgerator, only to find a few plastic containers with slowly spoiling food in them. She opened one, and quickly closed it and backed away from the 'fridge, letting the door swing shut. James walked over to her comm unit, pulling open a drawer that was overflowing with takeout menus. Looks like I'm eating 'out,' again. Kuati Pizza? She thumbed through the drawer, trying to find an elusive comm number.

[J'ktal Anajii]

"Captain Anajii," J'ktal answered his comm's handset while he poured hot water into a teacup.

There was no voice on the other end, and he was tempted to hang up, consider it to be just a prank, but he gave it a moment longer, then said, "I said, this is Death-Shadow Captain Anajii, who is this?"

His call identification monitor was broken. He had put in a request for a new one, but since all the coms in the order had to follow a standard, he had to wait for a technician to come out and do something he could easily do himself simply to follow procedure.

[James Prent]

"I said, this is Death-Shadow Captain Anajii, who is this?"

James' mouth had fallen open at the first words she heard on the comm line, and she tried to recover. "Ah," Wrong number, genius! But after their spar she had a lot of questions. Perhaps the number wasn't wrong, after all. "Ah, this is James Prent, again. I was wonderin' if we could get together some time, and talk about the Force.

"I know you're not actively receiving training at the moment, but I feel that we could both benefit from discussing a few things." James stared crosseyed at the Kuati Pizza pamphlet, and then straightened her eyes, trying to figure out how she'd gotten the number so very wrong.

[J'ktal Anajii]

Cradling the handset between his ear and shoulder, J'ktal tore open a teabag wrapper, then dunked the papery ball into his cup, bobbing it slightly. He was out of real tea, so the instant kind would ahve to do.

"It is not that I am not actively recieving training," he corrected her, "But that I merely needed a few days to resettle, and make sure that I was not going to step on Sejah's toes in my return." There, the tea was dark enough. Out with the teabag.

"And, I am about to make dinner. You are welcome to join me, if you like, not quite sure what will be on the menu yet, but my groceries arrived this morning so I should ahve a decent selection to choose from."

[James Prent]

As if in reply, her stomach growled. She hoped he couldn't hear it. "Well, if it's no trouble... I'd love to come over." Love? James, listen to yourself talk, why don't you? "What time should I be there?"

[J'ktal Anajii]

Ugh, the tea was horrid. Last time he let a shopping droid make a decision for him. When were the last of his things going to arrive from Yavin?

"You may come over now, if you wish," the Death-Shadow replied with a shrug, even though he knew James couldn't see it on the other end. "Do you know where my quartes are located? Number thirty-six B."

[James Prent]

"Well, I didn't know, but I think I can find that without too much trouble." James scrabbled for a stylus and scribbled down the numbers on a scrap of flimsiplast. "I'll probably be there in fifteen to twenty minutes."

They ended the conversation, and James hung up the comm, feeling stupid. The way things seemed to be going, she had a feeling that she'd be around J'ktal a lot more. There had to be a way to keep from feeling completely outclassed.

She'd excused herself early from her discussion with Master D'an (he probably agreed because she'd come straight from her spar with J'ktal and needed a shower) and gone to the Archives where she'd done a bit of digging. It was probably why she'd accidentally dialed his number - she had him on the brain.

She knew his previous master had been Sage Hazzard, and that the Jedi Master had abandoned the Death Shadow's training and left Coruscant, never to be seen again. James only hoped that it wasn't because of J'ktal that Master Hazzard had taken his leave of the Order. Although... she could see how the mongoose could drive someone mad.

James checked her clothes in a mirror, making sure everything was correct, and fiddled with her hair a bit. "Oh, gods James, it's not a date." She stuck her tongue out at the mirror, and made her way to the door, switching off the lights and locking her apartment.

It was a short walk and turbolift ride to J'ktal's quarters, and she hesitated slightly before pressing the doorbell to announce her arrival. And then she pressed it anyway, misgivings be frelled.

[J'ktal Anajii]

The cardboard box the teabags had come in joined the spent teabag in the trash. There was simply no excuse for poor quality food products when one paid decent money for them.

So, he ws going to have company for dinner. Not quite what he had expected, but it was managable. Honestly, he had been expecting to hear from James far later in the evening, but this time she was the one who was early. So, for dinner, for dinner, what was he going to cook for dinner... A salad would be in the picture, he had plenty of leafy greens, but the main course was still undecided between either steak or fish. He had some game bird as well, but that took longer to prepare, and harder to make look decent on the plate arrangement. And, after all, a food should look as good as it tastes.

After some deliberation, J'ktal finally rolled back his French cuff shirtsleeves to the mid forearm, then selected a bottle of white wine and put it in his chiller. If they were having fish, it would at least be cold by the time it was ready. Any of his red wines would be suitable at room temperature. Some said the mongoose was a gourmand, but the truth was that he was just plain obsessive.

The doorbell snapped him out of his daze, and after a quick check in the small mirror by the door, and a tug at his unbuttoned collar, the mongoose opened it and invited James inside. "Please, come in, I was just getting things ready." he said, then turned on the lights in his living room, having previously only confined to the kitchen.

The door closed softly behind James, and J'ktal rubbed his paws together and asked, "Well, we have surf, and we have turf, which would you prefer?"

[James Prent]

She stepped through the door, opening her mouth to exchange greetings with J'ktal, but he chose that moment to switch on the lights for the rest of the room. James' mouth hung open still, but the words she'd been about to say died on her tongue. She'd been expecting... well, not a room like she'd had as a padawan, but certainly a suite about the same size as the one she now occupied.

I should have known - we're much higher in the building. This must be a room normally reserved for Masters. But it wasn't just the size, it was the way he'd decorated, with heavy furnishings and what looked to be priceless antiques. He wasn't the sort to have knockoffs decorating his living room.

He softly cleared his throat, and she realized that he's asked her something. "Ah, I never was too fond of fish, except I had Mon Cal mahi mahi once, and that was fantastic. So... turf, I guess."

James couldn't help it, her eyes kept being drawn to the rest of the room. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be rude, but... all this stuff is yours?" Can I look at it? Her question was unspoken, but she'd been taking courses in diplomacy and had been learning that the history of a culture was almost as important to know as the current situation. This apartment seemed a treasure trove of information about Nehantish... and J'ktal himself.

[J'ktal Anajii]

J'ktal had grown up amongst a far more impressive gallery of artifacts, so he could not possibly appreciate the room as much as James did at that moment. Still, it was nice to impress.

"Yes, well, mostly," the gray mongoose replied. "A few items are here on loan from my father's private collection, but most everything here is among that of my own holding. We Anajiis have always had an interest in the arts and histories of my people."

As he returned to the kitchen, J'ktal removed the bottle of white wine from the chiller and set it back on its rack, then opened his refridgerator to pull out a pair of ribeye steaks. "Feel free to take a look around, but be careful with the weapons. Most of the blades are very sharp, and the guns are all loaded. I do ask that you do not open that cabinet," he indicated toward his antique liquor cabinet with his ancient books atop it, "Right now its contents are twice as valuable because the cabinet has not been opened in fifty years. We lost the key."

Steak and salad. It would be a simple meal, but with J'ktal at the helm of the kitchen, it would be complex at the same time. Spices labled only be colored bands around their bottles made their way out of cabinets and onto the steaks, all the while his gas grill flamed, heating up the grill plates so that they would char lines into the meat. They still had a little way to go, so he went to work tossing a salad with both standard and off-world ingredients. "See anything that interests you? I can give you a full history of most things in my home."

[James Prent]

James walked into the living room, getting a good look at the racks of weapons, but not touching any of them. She held back a chuckle as he explained about the liquor cabinet, and carefully walked around it. She did peer at the leatherbound books, used to seeing datapads.

Everything looked expensive. And certainly gave her an insight into the mongoose's life.

Moving to a painting on the wall, she did find she had some questions. "I have to admit, J'ktal, I don't know much about your homeplanet. But," she indicated the painting, although since he was in the kitchen cooking he probably couldn't see what she was referencing, "do you have giant snakes on Nehantish?"

[J'ktal Anajii]

Without having to turn around, the mongoose replied, "That is a female king cobra, they have been known to grow in excess of one hundred and fifty feet. If you look on the credenza to your right, you will seea knife made of one of their fangs. It came from one only fifty feet in length, I made the kill myself."

Taking a break from preparing food, J'ktal turned down the burners on the grill and washed his paws, then approached James while toweling off. "They are now a protected species, though occasionally some of us are allowed to thin their numbers. Though modern boys often choose rifles, not understanding the old ways."

[James Prent]

"The old ways?" James queried, letting a finger trace the outline of the knife he'd indicated, although not actually touching it. "So you killed yours with a blade?"

She meandered back towards the kitchen area, fiddling with her obi as she tried to look at everything.

[J'ktal Anajii]

J'ktal shook his head. "No, a knife is used only to taunt and blind the serpent, the kill must come from the jaws," he explained, then raised his hackles to expose a set of very animalistic jaws before snapping them illustratively. "It is very dangerous, but wholly satisfying. Blind the snake, then when it rears back in pain, you jam your knife into the side of its neck, and go for the throat. Rip it out in one bite, if possible. You get covered in blood, but it does not thrash in its death throes, so you are guarenteed survival, should you get that far."

Picking up the fang dagger in his paw, though it was not the type used in a snake slaying, and tested its balance, noting the groove down wish venom would normally run. Setting it bac, the mongoose returned to the kitchen as well, turning the grill back up, then used a pronged fork to spear one steak and lay it on the charring surface, then the other. As the meat sizzled, he looked to James. "Hopw do you like your steak? Rare, medium, well?"

[James Prent]

After his talk of killing with his mouth, James looked down a little blankly at the steaks, and then cocked her head to the side. "Medium to well done. I'm not all that fond of food that... well, that bleeds."

She offered him a tremulous smile, hoping he wasn't offended, and leaned back against a counter to watch him cook.

[J'ktal Anajii]

While loud-mouthed cooking show hosts, or kitchen gladiators may have made cooking look interesting, J'ktal was more interested in the flavor of his food than his showmanship while preparing it. "Medium-well it is, then," he replied, making no note of her latter comment.

"I trust you will find these better than what we had at that diner some months back," the mongoose announced while pulling steak off, preferring a rarer touch to his meat. "I daresay that place could not have found a worse cook had they scraped one off the street."

Soon it was done, and J'ktal plated the steaks and salads, also slicing a fresh tomato experrtly and splitting it between them before placing both plates on the table. "Care for some wine? I have a vintage that would go quite nicely with our dinner, if you like."

[James Prent]

James grinned at his reference to the all-night diner where she'd first met him, and found herself studying his neat kitchen as he finished preparing the meal. When J'ktal asked about wine, she stood away from the counter, and nodded, "I'd like that. Thank you."

She helped herself to the seat he indicated, and he brought the wine, a red one that she probably couldn't pronounce. James smiled as he filled her glass, and soon they were both sitting at the table. She looked across at him, "Do you say any sort of blessing for the meal on Nehantish?"

[J'ktal Anajii]

J'ktal carefully set down the bottle and then seated himself. It wasn't a terribly fancy vintage, nor was it very expensive, but it had the right flavor and boquet to go with the steaks.

"Personally, I say it whether I be here, on Nehantish, or anywhere. But, you would not understand it, for it is usually spoken in Nehantite," he answered, then noted the look on James's face. "But, Garfife knows all languages, so I suppose I could make an exception."

Closing one hand over a fist, J'ktal bowed his head and spoke revrently, "O Garfife, creator and master, I thank you for the blessings you have bestowed upon me, and my race. Guide me when you need, and forgive my actions when they do not coincide with your plan. Bless this food you have allowed me to posess, and be welcome in my house, and in the house of my family. Amen." Lifting his head, he unfolded his paws and used one to drape a linen napkin over his lap. "Dig in," he said with an uncostomary grin.

[James Prent]

She bowed her head in respect of his customs, and listened to the words he spoke. She'd read a little about the Nehantite religion, but had not understood much. The Corellian beliefs were even more difficult, involving complicated levels of heavens and hells, but just because she didn't understand something was no reason to to ignore it.

After the prayer, James grinned back, the tenseness in her lower back slowly relaxing as she felt more comfortable in her surroundings. She cut a bite of steak, noting the slight pink color of the middle, and chewed it carefully. She found herself smiling again. "This is much better than th' steak at the all night place. The best one I've had in a while." She shrugged, "Not too many steaks wander up to my quarters at dinner time."

After a sip of wine, she slowly cut herself another bite, and decided the best way to deal with a ronto in the room was to acknowledge it. "So, I was wondering... Nehantish has a very strong religious foundation... possibly stronger than just about any other planet in the galaxy." She paused, steak skewered on the end of her fork. "Well, besides the insectoid race on Hynapix IX, but they worship the Hive Mother for their paticular hive, and have horrible religious wars with neighboring clans."

James caught his look, "Ah, I've been readin' up on these things. Sorry, my question is, how do you reconcile the Force with your faith in Garfife?" She placed the bite in her mouth, and chewed slowly, savoring the flavor.