L O S T
The Hawk's Den
Nar Shaddaa Prominade
Through the spectral sands of time and space it had traveled, toppling toward her without warning, without any sign of stopping. Pulsating, radiating, intensifying, on and on and on, building up momentum, picking up more grief, more uncertainty, more doubt... Until it struck her right in the chest, and left her momentarily paralyzed.She could not move, she could not breathe, she could not think. For several long moments she was fixed in place, while the world continued to move around her; she could feel the gaze of an individual boring into her, sense the confusion and the concern, yet her vision had tunneled and her mind would not work long enough to remind her who it was. And then it broke.
Washing over her like a tide, this whole symphony engulfed her. Her form dropped, buckling to the ground below with back bent, hands splayed flat against the grass. It was as though a weight was pressing against her shoulders, forcing her to lean in such a fashion.
The flames and embers she fought so hard to contain flared up along her skin, turning it ashen, molten, and the pain which accompanied it left her writhing in place. Oddly enough the greenery around them did not catch light, just her flesh. A hand settled to her head, words whispered on the breeze were carried away before they reached her hearing, and then finally Jyn allowed herself a moment of complete weakness.
A whimper, then a sob, broke free from her, all the while that soothing, comforting hand stroked through her hair, wiped still-falling tears from her cheeks, and held her there. The ringing in her ears began to subside then, the volcanic state of her skin seeming to retreat, and her breathing began to slow and she fought for control. Still the hand did not stop, not even when all that she did was lay there in numbness.
"I..." Her tongue felt heavy, mouth dry, and after a small exhale of breath she pushed on, "Sense a great disturbance..." Whoever it was that held her did not press or pry, simply drawing a few stray strands of hair from her eyes, humming quietly to provide some noise in an otherwise pin drop silent setting. "Ar'ekk..." Apparently that one word was all that was needed.
The arms around her seemed to stiffen, though not to bring discomfort, and for the longest time there was nothing. No perpetual stroking of the hair, no whispered words or humming. It was as though the world had once again paused in its rotations, and time stood still. How long it continued for she could not be certain, but finally a shallow intake of breath could be heard, and the hand resumed its ruminations through her hair.
"He is lost," the voice finally spoke up, recognizable immediately. Young Asha leaned down, red hair tumbling toward Jyn's face as she sought out her gaze with her own. For a long moment her expression was almost ponderous, before Asha simply smiled. "But he is not so far gone that he cannot be returned." The girl's form shifted back then, as she made to help Jyn rise up from her crumpled state on the ground.

Before her the Smuggler's Moon sprawled out in its incoherent, mind-boggling show of glaring lights and blaring music. A bass-heavy beat pulsated from various speakers around the Promenade, loud enough that she felt certain her heart was being forced to work at its pace. Her hands felt clammy, the sides of her throat oppressive, as though hands wrapped against them, and no matter how many times she inhaled she couldn't quite breathe enough.
Breathe, and ignore it. Control yourself. This is all superficial, none of it will hurt you.
A slight hum set over her ears then, blocking out much of the noise though she felt it still within her body, the vibrations rocking her very core. One step, then another, brought her closer to her quarry, and her eyes drifted between the various establishments of illicit activity and hedonistic tendencies, from red lights to hazy doorways, until they set upon one building in particular:
THE HAWK'S DEN
Down one set of stairs, which curved toward the center of the atrium, past three... no four budding businesses, then she stepped through the threshold and frowned. All around her men and women sat behind machines, or stood around tables, eyes fixated on numbers, and colours, and flashing lights, hands clutching at credit chips. The sense of the place was one of pure elation and frustration, it was a powerful mixture which threatened to undo all of her careful planning, all of the control she had forced over herself.
She could feel the eyes of several men - and, surprisingly, some women, too - trailing over her form from the corner of the room, and did her best to ignore them. One whistled toward her, another beckoned her over, but she pressed on, further into the labyrinth of consumerism and debt.
"I wager a night with this lucky lady..." she overheard a gentleman at one of the tables proclaim, and she could not help but glance his way. A twi'lek sat within his lap, arms wrapped around him and a look of pure ecstasy on her expression. It did not look or feel natural, and part of her wanted to storm over there and cause a scene... Instead she quelled all of those desires. She had something to tend to first, and then... Then maybe she could help out those who likewise found themselves in precarious situations.
Her footsteps took her toward a bar in the corner, and the first sign of staff she had been met with that weren't dealers of sorts. I mean, technically bartenders are dealers... But this one did not look particularly busy. "What can I get you?" the bartender inquired, "You look like a Thundercloud kind of girl, to me."
For a moment she could only stare at him and blink, before she caught herself and shook her head slowly. "I... Uh..." A small exhale of air was enough to steady her nerves. "I'm here for Hawk," she stated, perhaps a little too simply from the disconcerting glower the man gave her. "Take a seat" he instructed, voice far more tense than it had previously been, "You'll be wanting water, no doubt." To that she gave just the meekest of nods, before perching on the edge of one of the bar stools.
The man disappeared for a moment, and she wondered if she hadn't made some sort of mistake. Asha had seen him here, but what if he wasn't the owner of the establishment, even if everything she had seen had pointed to as much? She felt a knot beginning to form in her stomach, and wished the tender had gotten her that Thundercloud after all.