A Music Venue in Brooklyn, Sunday Evening

[suitably_heroic]

Yes, Jack believed all the Force users in the multiverse could use a few lessons in doing normal people things more often. He had frequently coerced, wheedled, and poked several of them into it over the years. But this? Making Lana Beniko, ex-Sith spymaster, man the merch booth?

Had to be his greatest achievement.

It maybe gave a little extra oomph to his performance that evening.

It was also when, after they were done, one of the first things he did was haul his sweaty ass back to the merch stand. "Sooo," he said, grinning. "How are we doing?"

[[ for a lana ]]

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[unusual_sith]

"If you're sure." Lana was skeptical, but Jack knew this area better than she did.

"Which way to the shawarma?"

[suitably_heroic]

"Out the door," Jack said, amused. "Then take a left."

He was already moving.

[unusual_sith]

Lana followed. "So what kind of food is shawarma? Where is it from?" Earth had entirely too many cultures for such a tiny planet.

[suitably_heroic]

Yeah, and Jack kind of loved it for that. Not that he'd admit to being a nerd about it unless pressured.

"It's from the Middle East," he said, as he passed through the door and into the night. "Shaved meat, usually served in a wrap with salad and sauces."

[unusual_sith]

"Sounds good," Lana said. "Spicy?"

[suitably_heroic]

"As spicy as you want to make it," Jack said. Amused, he added: "What, scared?"

[unusual_sith]

"Just curious," Lana said. "I enjoy spicy food; I'm not a heathen."

[suitably_heroic]

"They have spicy sauces and not so spicy sauces," Jack clarified. "You know, in case you get more adventurous as you go along."

[unusual_sith]

"Or I burn my mouth on the first one and have to ramp down," Lana said. "Either way, it sounds good."

She was silent for a moment as they walked.

"I admit I see the appeal of this city," she said after a minute. "Earth is like an entire galaxy of cultures on one planet, and New York is a microcosm of it. A concentrated dose."

[suitably_heroic]

"Exactly."

Jack's mouth formed into a smile against his will. It showed up in that one word, too.

He shook his head, as if trying to dispell it. Failing. He sighed. "Cade kept dumping on it," he said. "Kept calling it a mid-sized town on a backwards mudball."

Had he been working on an angry song about it? Maybe.