muffled cantina band soundtrack swells in the bg

[unforced]

Obi-Wan had not planned to be in Mos Eisley today.

But, well, there's some things you just can't plan out in life. However that saying goes. And the notion of strange Force inclinations is far from a new one--Obi-Wan has been entertaining them for years--but somehow the sheer bemusement of it all just never entirely wears off. One day he wakes up, and he decides that he really ought to be in Mos Eisley today, and that's that.

There's probably a good reason for it. Obi-Wan, for his part, does not trouble himself overtly with trying to figure out what that reason might be. The eopie ride to the nearest oasis market is as lengthy as ever, and from there it's an eopie dropped off for temporary care and a landspeeder rented for the day, because a ride to Mos Eisley by steed would be a day-long trip in itself (and there's no time for that, the notion tells him, insistent as only the Force ever is).

He doesn't make it a habit to be in the larger public hubs these days, even such a remote one as Mos Eisley might qualify to be in some circles of the galaxy. Generally, it's still too much of a risk, too much of a chance, and much too far away besides. But today, today will be the exception. And Obi-Wan has built up quite the reputation by now, he thinks, a satisfyingly obscure reputation for strange vague wizardry and solitude. A mad old hermit out in the desert, wandering in for a drink at the cantina, and what is there to distinguish him from the next ragged-cloaked beggar seeking to drown his sorrows?

Nothing at all, really.

Well, nothing to those who don't matter.

Midday, the twin Tatooine suns at their scorching zenith outside, and Chalmun's Spaceport Cantina is packed; upbeat music swells and flows as the regular Bith music band wanders its way through a seemingly endless number of songs. Obi-Wan drifts in quietly, orders a drink in similar quiet fashion, and settles himself at a table in the most quiet-ish corner of the bar he can find, tucked out of the way half in shadow. A bent and hooded figure nursing his drink in his hands, to anybody else, face hidden in shade--occasionally, the head turns, and stares at the cantina doorway as if waiting for someone.

Perhaps he is. Obi-Wan is not yet entirely sure. But he sits, and he waits, and he wonders. Any time now, probably...

Comments

[spectreone]

The Outer Rim was the stomping grounds of the Ghost, and with Lothal being their outpost, the rest of the planets served as pit stops. Tattooine was no different. While supplies were definitely needed (thank you, Zeb and Ezra), there was another reason for the visit to Mos Eisley. The Force had an uncanny way of drawing people together. Force sensitive ones, even more so. Had this been a few years earlier, Kanan might have tried to brush it off. But the Force was like a needling pet, one that begged to be given attention. And...in the end, Kanan yielded.

With Hera's blessing, he broke off from the rest of the group towards the cantina. He didn't know why, but the Force seemed to be tugging him in that direction as well. His thoughts immediately turn to a possible Jedi, although that's not the only thing clouding his mind. After Luminara, anything was possible. It could be a trap--and this time, if it was...it would just be him and the Inquisitor.

Thankfully, as far as Imperial troops go, he's rather generic looking. A bounty hunter at the very most. It doesn't take much for him to slip past.

He walks in, as casual as can be, resting an elbow on the bar as he orders a drink. Something to pass the time as he attempted to figure out just why he's here. Why the Force seems so...Strong.

And oddly...familiar.

[unforced]

The whims of the Force can be terribly odd things, truly. Even with almost a lifetime spent working with it under his own belt, there are still times when the Force's little reveals surprise even Obi-Wan sometimes--sometimes in good ways, sometimes in bad. But every time, it was for a reason. (No matter how glad or painful the reason might be...) Where this occasion is going to fall on the scale--well, that would remain to be seen.

But it's certainly a most peculiar prickle, in the Force, when a young human man steps into the cantina at length.

Certainly nondescript enough, especially for a Mos Eisley cantina in the Outer Rim. 'Bounty hunter' would have made a good fit for certain--and perhaps this one was. Perhaps...although something naggingly familiar touches the edge of this particular presence, like the echo of a snatch of music you remember hearing a terribly long time ago. Obi-Wan shifts in his seat, idly rubs at his beard, and--no, yes. This must be the one.

The one what? With a presence like that--but good or bad, well-meaning or not...no, much too difficult to tell. Not from here. Not at a distance.

Which just means he'll have to get a bit closer.

Obi-Wan considers his cup--downs the rest of it in its entirety in one decided swallow--and then draws himself to his feet, and wanders back over to the bar, empty glass in hand. Still a heavily hooded man, features mostly obscured save for a nose and beard poking out from the shadow, slightly bent as if with an age and level of inebriation that he doesn't actually feel--a light application of slightly stumbled step, as he comes up against the bar with a bump, and he unsteadily slides into the seat right beside Kanan's, all weather-worn robes and a jovial voice with just enough of a slow lilt to mask the usual clipped precision of a Coruscanti accent.

(He always did have just a bit of a knack, for slipping on certain personas sometimes. Obi-Wan's presence in the Force, he tamps down upon now, muffling it further the closer he gets to the bar--something of a test in itself, really, with senses alert for any shift in notice on the latter's part.)

The hooded man plants his glass solidly on the bartop. "Make it another, if you'd be so kind! And--no, actually--" the bent profile leans towards Kanan, face turning to him, light eyes making a brief flickered appraisal from under cowl, "--make that two! For my good friend here, would you fancy that?" He tilts back with a slight laugh and a flash of a smile, one hand resting easily on Kanan's nearest shoulder as he turns to face the bartender again. "It'll be on me, I insist!"

[spectreone]

As soon as Obi-Wan begins to move, Kanan feels a shift in the Force as well. He can't pinpoint it--there's too many bodies floating around, but whoever it is, they've taken notice of him. And vice-versa. He knew better than to seek it out. Much like how Ezra had opened himself up to the Force, it also allowed danger in, and that wasn't something Kanan felt he could do with a complete stranger.

The Toydarian next to him sneezes, as he lifts an arm and an eyebrow.

Yeah, especially not in this place.

But he doesn't have long to consider, anyway, as another stranger walks up to the bar, placing their glass on the counter. Maybe he'd been wrong to come here. It's too crowded, there's too many leads--

The hooded man's hand is now on his shoulder. Eyes immediately dart to him, his turquoise ones matching the bright, glittery ones of the older gentleman. Something...oddly familiar about it, but he can't place what. The random act of kindness, however, is met with some surprise.

"Oh, I just..." If he refused, it'd be suspicious, wouldn't it. "Well, guess I can't refuse that request. To whom do I owe the thanks to?"

[unforced]

Hm. Interesting, terribly interesting. There is a vague notion, as if this young man has indeed noticed a shift in the air--but if he chooses to react to it, or tries to seek it out further, he's certainly doing a good job of concealing it. Or, perhaps, he's simply choosing not to take the temptation for further prying at all--equally interesting in itself, that. Closer, now, and Obi-Wan is pleased by what he finds so far. The eyes that meet his don't seem to immediately recognize him, either, which is all the better; a bounty hunter after a certain profile of Jedi is now reasonably taken off the list of possibilities here. The other possibilities, though...this nagging familiar presence, all the stronger with proximity, that he still can't quite place yet--

It adds more to the warmth of his own barely-visible smile, as the latter takes him up on his offer. "Oh, no, no refusing it for certain! We'll be having none of that, on such a fine day as this." The bartender comes back around, setting two glasses on the table, and Obi-Wan's hand falls away from Kanan's shoulder at last as he leans over to reach for them instead. One passed cheerily to his new compatriot first, head ducking just enough to conceal eyes from any further examination: "But well, it's like I said! Did you not hear? Well, though the band's always loud in here, it's true, I mean--"

Settling back in his seat, frame swaying slightly as if under influence of alcohol he's hardly indulged in today, he gestures widely and easily with his glass, very nearly sloshing it onto Kanan in the process. "A friend! Yes, we're good friends now. They call me old Ben, y'know, friends come very easily. And--say, but what brings you to these parts, my lad? Must have been the charming desert suns, no doubt!" A laugh again, heartily amused at his own joke.

[spectreone]

Kanan's surprised at the sheer interest this man has in him. By all accounts (and by personal experience) he doesn't stand out TOO noticably. Bounty hunters were commonplace, and he didn't have any signature armor like some of them. A small, fleeting thought assumes this could be because of the Force, but a quick size up of the crazed old man rules it out. Despite the nagging feeling in the back of his head, there's no way this one's got any knowledge of the Force.

Probably for the best, considering how easily this one trusts.

He'll put on a friendly face, though. It's not like the guy's disrupting the peace.

"A fine day? Guess it doesn't take much--all things considered." The Empire had a way of ignoring the Outer Rim. Things were easily cast to the side or neglected. Pretty much anything that wasn't near Coruscant or had high political power was considered only for it's resources. And Tattooine didn't have much to offer.

Ben. Something about the way the man says that name. It feels familiar. Like he SHOULD know this person. Of course, Kanan's not crazy--he's never met this man in his life. Especially if he's been living on Tattooine. "Could live without the sun, actually. Seems like your brain gets fried if you stand out in it."

But he bites his lip, wondering just how much he can get away with. "Pit stop. You know, supplies, spare parts. Now before you go and say what a crazy idea it is coming here for supplies, wasn't exactly our routine stop."

He flashes a smile, before looking at his drink.

"Things don't always go according to plan."