Hal Terrano
Prince of Porridge
Hal Terrano quietly simmered.
The stoic Jedi Padawan strode through the streets Coruscant with his eyes directly pointed at the ground, the act of putting one foot in front of the other simply becoming another automatic process.
He had been instructed to leave the temple for a few hours, to unwind and perhaps even socialise as if Jedi had the time for such frolic. Naturally he had attempted to object, stating that his time was better spent upon training and improving himself so he could defend the weak and defenceless from the evils of the galaxy to the very best of his abilities. It was a very dramatic spiel let me assure you of that but I won't go into the gorier details.
In response the trainer sighed and clasped a firm hand upon the stocky man's shoulder:
“You need to relax, Padawan Terrano.”
Thus he was sent forth into the streets for some forced down time, with his staunch respect for authority keeping him from rebelling in any way, shape or form. So with a face of thunder the Jedi had decided he would indulge in a glass of water and perhaps even a cracker or two. Caught in contemplation of just how ridiculous the situation at hand was Hal finally glanced upwards to find that perhaps he had wandered too far. These were not streets that he recognised. Directions were definitely needed.
Ca'an's Candles and Candle Accessories
The shop looked wholesome enough, they would know the way back.
Upon entering Terrano was immediately hit by a wall of incredibly unsavoury smoke. There were no candles here. It was a front. A den of sin disguised in plain sight. The credits flowed, the drinks flowed and even the spice flowed (as it must).The ambush of the intoxicating smog illicit a few loud coughs from his throat as he folded his arms across his chest.
“This is illegal,” he declared bluntly, like a proper pillock.
@[member="Triko"]
The stoic Jedi Padawan strode through the streets Coruscant with his eyes directly pointed at the ground, the act of putting one foot in front of the other simply becoming another automatic process.
He had been instructed to leave the temple for a few hours, to unwind and perhaps even socialise as if Jedi had the time for such frolic. Naturally he had attempted to object, stating that his time was better spent upon training and improving himself so he could defend the weak and defenceless from the evils of the galaxy to the very best of his abilities. It was a very dramatic spiel let me assure you of that but I won't go into the gorier details.
In response the trainer sighed and clasped a firm hand upon the stocky man's shoulder:
“You need to relax, Padawan Terrano.”
Thus he was sent forth into the streets for some forced down time, with his staunch respect for authority keeping him from rebelling in any way, shape or form. So with a face of thunder the Jedi had decided he would indulge in a glass of water and perhaps even a cracker or two. Caught in contemplation of just how ridiculous the situation at hand was Hal finally glanced upwards to find that perhaps he had wandered too far. These were not streets that he recognised. Directions were definitely needed.
Ca'an's Candles and Candle Accessories
The shop looked wholesome enough, they would know the way back.
Upon entering Terrano was immediately hit by a wall of incredibly unsavoury smoke. There were no candles here. It was a front. A den of sin disguised in plain sight. The credits flowed, the drinks flowed and even the spice flowed (as it must).The ambush of the intoxicating smog illicit a few loud coughs from his throat as he folded his arms across his chest.
“This is illegal,” he declared bluntly, like a proper pillock.
@[member="Triko"]