WHO: Rey Skywalker & Ezra Wilde WHAT: They're meeting! WHERE: The Last Drop. WARNINGS: None?
Settling in seemed to be one thing, understanding the world she’d come into was another. Slowly Rey was keeping less to herself, glad to have people she knew here - well didn’t technically know them, not really, but they were of the same galaxy, that meant something. As the days passed her fate to have come here seemed less like a strange dream she was trying to either process, or perhaps wake up from. There seemed no end of explanation for some things, and everyone, some of them here for years seemed settled and as far as they seemed to want to share with her, content.
But there was still one particular mystery concerning her arrival she’d not yet followed up. This Ezra person, who’d been generally vague when conversing with her through messages, had still made the effort to contact her when she first arrived. She hadn’t been entirely sure why then, or now either, when she’d finally made contact with him and asked where she might come to find him to talk. She paused before walking in, her gaze wandering slowly across the room, focused and curious. There was something to like about the atmosphere of this place, she thought. She let out a small sigh.
The young Jedi wasn’t entirely sure why there was a stirring in her stomach; it was something not so unlike a mix of apprehension and confusion, something that she thought wouldn’t properly settle until she took some time to explore things beyond just the food, clothing and pastimes of her new life here.
Rey made her way through the bar, hazel gaze spotting who she was looking for quickly enough, it wasn’t particularly crowded at the moment. She thought it common sense to assess what she could, attempting to reach out with the Force, make a conspicuous (as far as she knew) effort to gauge the situation on his side of things before the conversation had even begun. “Ezra- Hi.” Rey awkwardly had to stop herself from affirming who she was, when it was clear he already knew, or at least his words over the network seemed to suggest such. “I thought it was about time we spoke.” Her tone was calm, affable enough. She didn’t invite herself to a seat by him, instead sort of staying where she was, on her feet.