#so he just couldn't let his guard down with rend at (honestly minimal) risk

[exile-of-dathomir]

[Catching Hexa to ask about the string of numbers is something of an art form. The pau'an is a socialite, a networker, and an incredible gossip. Feral keeps watch over the next few days, waiting for her to come in for one of the woman's regular bake-a-thons.]

[His schedule comes to grinding halt when the cafe door chimes and a different woman steps through, one in flowing crimson robes. The nightsister Rend steps forward while lowering her hood.]

"Hello Feral."

[He hops the counter, so excited, but stops short of touching her without permission. She laughs at him, raising weathered fingers to stroke his brow. His frame tingles at the contact, force signature shifting. Every cell in his body recognizes the presence of the one who had... healed it.]

"Nightsister, welcome! You've come to visit?"

"I have. Make me tea? These old bones are weary from travel, and a bit chilled honestly."

[He makes a face, like he'd fight the weather if he thought it would fix the problem. Instead of that nonsense though, Feral guides her behind the counter and toward the stairs that lead down to his barren little home, waking up the chef droid to man the counter before descending after her.]

[He settles Rend in his own bed, bringing her spiced tea in the red glass tea set, with snacks pulled from the bakery counter suited for a zabrak's palette. Then he sits on the floor beside her, and tells her all about Coruscant, and listens to all the gossip of home.]

[Feral talks about the mysterious Tooka that keeps visiting, about Quinn and their warm hands and distinctive features, Hope and Corin's unique situation, Hexa's obsession with foldovers, and tales of several other patrons that were regulars or just exceptionally weird. He talks about mean customers, and the keychain and ribbon on the dresser he'd been gifted.]

[Rend tells him about a new brother born last week, orangey colored and showing signs of a congenital disease. He might go blind at age two or so... and the sisters are considering allowing him to remain in the temple as a servant. She tells Feral about Viscus' fight with Toma, and how Burn got -hilariously enough- burned while cooking.]

[Eventually the conversation runs down, and in a grasp for more to talk about, he shows her the strange string of numbers.]

"Oh, that's a commlink address. A patron of the cafe gave it to you? My... seems like you're really making friends."

[The way she smiles insinuates a lot more than 'friends', and he flushes pumpkin colored from ear to ear.]

"Sister no! They're just a nice person, we clicked and they wanted to keep in touch... but they don't live on Coruscant."

[The terrible witch laughs, patting his head and running her fingers through his horns. He leans into it, hungry for the contact. Nobody touched on this planet. It's was weird.]

"I'm obligated to tease you, Feral. You're too pretty by half, and quite the charmer. Have to keep you humble somehow."

[He huffs, and she just laughs some more.]

[Feral plays host to the nightsister and slacks on his duties all day, save for taking over during the lunch and dinner rushes -which the old chef droid wouldn't be able to handle well even in it's prime.]

[Hexa shows up that night, but instead of baking and upon discovery of their visitor, she drags the two of them out to a party, then shopping and brunch the next morning, then a visit to an arboretum closer to the surface.]

[By the time Rend is leaving to return to Dathomir, Feral has acquired a tiny potted plant called a nubian ringlette, a set of sleek looking leather pants and a rust colored turtle neck to go with it, and -notably- a new holoprojector. It's a fancy one, he thinks, one of those floor stands that give a life-sized hologram of whatever holovid you're watching or whoever you're talking to on a call. The two women have to show him how to use it, and how to access a messaging app on his datapad that will link with the projector's connection and let him text the address even without a holo image to go with.]

[Feral sends a message, unsure how to type and not familiar with punctuation but trying his best. It says 'yooo this is feral i hope i put the numbers in right'.]

[He sees Rend to the skyport that night, leaves Hexa to deal with all the customer complaints about the chef droid, and returns to crash face first into bed. Feral hadn't slept since the nightsister had come, and the exhaustion has caught up with him. He passes out, and doesn't wake up for twelve hours.]

// @exile-of-dathomir

Quinn hadn't cared to venture outside their house much, let alone leave their damn planet, but as one could imagine, the Cabin Fever got to them eventually. So, when Quinn's roommate Sanji offered to take them along as she does an off-world commission, they agreed.

Sanji, being a little too cautious about the situation, gave them a blaster, and a comlink, along with credits to protect themselves in the lower levels of Coruscant. The blaster was a little silly, as if their dangerous mutations weren't already enough...

The place had been rather unnerving to navigate. New patterns, new places, new people, were always at least a little upsetting, despite the curiosity. Thankfully, though, Quinn had finally found a decent spot to take a break. A Cafe. From the windows, it looked warm and inviting.

A little hesitantly, they enter, wearing long, large-heeled black boots reaching their knees, black shorts, and a dark blue, oversized men's shirt with the sleeves rolled up and top buttons undone. Long, black gloves cover their arms to their elbows. An outfit designed a little more for practicality, but with the personal touch of three, layered necklaces, each holding their own type of stone. One holds one that is pointed, polished, and purple. The second is raw and red, wrapped in gold wire. The third is a polished, pink, female body also wrapped in gold wire as if being held in Shibari.

Their tail drags behind them to a degree, despite being curled into a spiral to be smaller, and the wing boning on their back, whilst flat as it can be, are still clearly visible as they poke through hand-stitched holes in the back of their shirt.

Quinn hopes they aren't the strangest customer the Cafe has had. Lots of unnecessary attention is something they don't have much energy for.