...it sort of goes up faster and higher than he expected. And now there's a pancake on the ceiling.

"Oh."

She chuckles, and the pancake detaches from the ceiling and floats itself over to the bin by the sink, leaving only a small spot of strawberry goo.

"Well, there's no reason not to have it set up just how I like it, generally speaking. That seems to be doing most of the work here."

"So...it's great because you're great?"

"I suppose you could put it that way."

"Sounds right to me," Daisy puts in.

"Honestly? That makes three of us."

"Can't argue with that, I suppose."

He takes one last bite of fruit, and then pushes his plate away slightly, sighing.

"So...best breakfast ever. What now?"

Heh. "You realize she's going to outdo herself tomorrow, I hope. Next I go out and get your shuttle, hopefully before they take it apart as evidence. Daisy, I assume you want to stay here?"

"Yeah."

Nod. "So you can stay here or come with me, up to you."

"I'll come with, if it's cool. I wanna make sure some stuff is still there before we take off."

"Sure, that makes sense. Ah, it's probably a better idea not to let them know you're also Force-sensitive; this's already going to be a bit confusing for them and I do like to keep things as simple as possible when it comes to how they should react to a Sith or a Jedi showing up."

"Got it. It shouldn't be too hard. I mean, I don't exactly look like a Jedi."

"Mmhmm. Anything else you want to do before we go?"

"Nah, I think I'm good.

...unless you don't want me to talk your ear off on the speeder. Then I should probably borrow a book or something."

"Not a bad idea anyway - most of what I have is poetry or short stories, unless you want a technical manual."

"Short stories are good! Weirder the better."

"Hmmmm. I think I've got something like that, yeah." She heads for the back room.

Might as well follow her!

Wow that's a lot of art.

The room is dominated by a huge bed, covered in a charcoal-grey comforter that's embroidered with large, loose swirls of glittering silver. The back half of it, what would on most beds be the head, is covered in a small mountain of pillows in a muted rainbow of colors. There's a large landscape hanging over it, of a canyon in rock much redder than the local sort, and the rest of the wall space is so covered - with framed art, and painted scrolls, and wall sculptures in metal and cloth and a variety of other materials - that it's immediately obvious where the calligraphy samples usually hang. Even the ceiling is partially covered in hanging pieces. Beside the bed are a pair of shelves in dark wood, covered nearly as densely with things as the walls are, though somewhat fewer of them are artwork. Plenty still are, though, or are heavily decorated examples of practical objects; the boxes holding many of the things on the shelves are painted, for example, or covered in cloth, or woven of dyed reeds.

Pradnakt ignores all of it, and crouches at the foot of the bed to pull something out from under it with telekinesis.

...wow.

Once again, it is so hard not to touch any of this.

"...it's all covered in you."

"Sure, what else would it be covered in? Here," she looks up and flicks a stuffed rancor made with real, if tiny, claws and nails toward him from the shelf.

"...oh, sweet."

He holds it up in front of him.

"Haha, look at its horrible tiny mouth!"

She chuckles, and then moves to the edge of the bed with the datacard box she was looking for. "I got this collection a while back, of stories from all kinds of alien species, one disc per species - most of it was pretty good, but a couple of them were just - gets at why we call aliens alien, you know?"