Kanan Jarrus (
notallofus) wrote in
milliways_bar2017-05-20 10:27 am
Entry tags:
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[OOM: Soon after they start flying together, Hera and Kanan make a decision about their partnership.]
"– don't think we're going to find a decent one outside the Mid Rim."
The bar door opens, and a man steps through, apparently calling out to someone behind him. He's young, with dark hair that's tied back and a blaster holstered at his side, and he may not be paying that much attention to where he's going. Or is just very confident that he knows where he’s going. "Maybe a world with good black market, if it doesn't have to be that dec..."
His voice trails off as he finally looks around, stopping in his tracks and realizing this is definitely not the cockpit of the Ghost.
"Uh, Hera…"
"I can probably fix it up but –" The man is followed by an equally distracted Twi'lek, who in her hurry walks right into him. "What're you –"
But she breaks off, also noticing the murmur of conversation, the wooden floorboards and rafters, and the many other things that shouldn't be anywhere on her ship.
"You're seeing this too, right?" Kanan asks.
"Yeah," Hera answers. "I'm seeing it, too."
[ooc: Hello! Two muns, two pups - and both muns are playing both pups because we love them both too much to choose! :) Post is open until it scrolls. Also, Kanan is Force-sensitive, so let us know if you’d like to do anything with that.]
"– don't think we're going to find a decent one outside the Mid Rim."
The bar door opens, and a man steps through, apparently calling out to someone behind him. He's young, with dark hair that's tied back and a blaster holstered at his side, and he may not be paying that much attention to where he's going. Or is just very confident that he knows where he’s going. "Maybe a world with good black market, if it doesn't have to be that dec..."
His voice trails off as he finally looks around, stopping in his tracks and realizing this is definitely not the cockpit of the Ghost.
"Uh, Hera…"
"I can probably fix it up but –" The man is followed by an equally distracted Twi'lek, who in her hurry walks right into him. "What're you –"
But she breaks off, also noticing the murmur of conversation, the wooden floorboards and rafters, and the many other things that shouldn't be anywhere on her ship.
"You're seeing this too, right?" Kanan asks.
"Yeah," Hera answers. "I'm seeing it, too."
[ooc: Hello! Two muns, two pups - and both muns are playing both pups because we love them both too much to choose! :) Post is open until it scrolls. Also, Kanan is Force-sensitive, so let us know if you’d like to do anything with that.]

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He looks up at them as they enter, but keeps playing.
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But she stays where she's standing, and murmurs to Kanan, "So...
"This isn't..."
She's not exactly sure how to ask, this isn't some weird Force-Jedi thing, right?
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It takes him a second to follow where she's leading.
"No. No, this is definitely not . . . that. Uh."
What would a Jedi do in this situation? Not that it matters, because there aren't any here, but . . .
"Maybe we start figuring this out by seeing if we speak the language?"
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So she takes a deep breath, and approaches the musician.
"Um, hello?"
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What? He's got to do something, and backing Hera's tentative play seems like that thing.
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"Greetings," he says, "and welcome to Milliways, the tavern at the end of the known cosmos."
He can clearly see they have not been here before.
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Cassian found Milliways again in his travels and is taking the chance to enjoy better caf and work on his report.
When he hears them speaking he looks up, they were feeling safe enough where they came from to discuss a black market. He tucks his datapad away and stands up with a small smile, "Where were you expecting to be?"
He's in his black leather jacket and his blaster isn't visible at the moment.
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She turns from looking at Kanan, smiling in a way most species read as friendly.
"Somewhere a lot more familiar. I'm thinking we took the wrong set of stairs."
When in doubt, skirt the truth.
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It's loud enough for Hera to hear, anyway, and she elbows him in the side.
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"I had that happen the first time I came here. The door seems to act like almost a wormhole."
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"'Almost' like a wormhole? I would think we'd be a lot more dead if we walked through that without a ship."
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But whatever he's thinking, he doesn't share it.
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Cat's up in the rafters eating a burrito and watching for interesting things; an old habit of hers. When the new people show up, she immediately spots the alien and forgets all thoughts of eating. Something new!
Standing, she follows along for a bit, trying to hear what they talk about, and if she can understand them.
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"We were on the Ghost," she says to him, quietly, as though they could piece together how they ended up here. "We were walking to the cockpit."
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There's something . . . no, someone close by and high up.
"Think we've got a listener."
He doesn't look exactly at the girl, just somewhere in her general direction.
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She drops down, lightly landing into a crouch before standing. "Hi, sounds like you guys are new. Welcome to Milliways." Her eyes at pretty much focused on the green lady, but they do dart to tall and lanky.
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And really, she has more important things to worry about.
"To - where?"
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"Sounds like?"
Kanan crosses his arms and leans back on his heels, maybe a little skeptical. (Or 'a lot'. Go with 'a lot'.)
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To the eyes, she's wearing a rather ordinary looking beige shirt, pants and boots. In the Force, she's a strong presence and not bothering in the least to hide it.
"This place tends to surprise people when it first shows up. I certainly wasn't expecting it," she offers with a friendly smile and a wave.
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"We weren't, either, if that wasn't already obvious."
It's too late for pretending they've been here before, certainly.
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He puts a hand on Hera's shoulder, as a silent warning. His voice isn't quite so friendly when he asks, "Who are you?"
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She reads the not so friendly tone in Kanan's voice clearly enough that she puts her hands flat on the table in front of her where they can be seen. (From a Force user, a palm facing toward you could easily be a prelude to either a telekinetic attack or force lightning, so the traditional 'hands up' gesture doesn't work so well as a reassurance.)
"My name's Ibani, and if I were to hazard a guess I'd say you're from about three thousand years in what may be my future."
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She's also still smiling, but now one of her eyebrows goes up.
"What makes you guess that?"
Three thousand years is . . . a lot. And oddly specific, besides.
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He also stays quiet, for the moment, possibly thinking over what 'three thousand years' would mean.
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