Glasya Ren (glasya_ren) wrote in thegalaxy, @ 2016-02-10 18:01:00 |
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Entry tags: | !locale: naboo, bellamy blake, glasya ren |
despite all the wicked prose
Who: Glasya and Bellamy
What: Glasya follows up on Issan's promising lead.
When: The morning after this.
Where: Bellamy's home, Naboo refugee village
Rating: TBD
Dust choked the narrow streets of the refugee village. It clung to Glasya’s low-heeled boots, coating their black leather in a fine patina of brown. Ordinarily this would be unacceptable: Glasya knew well that appearances made the man, and the first step to owning power was to project it. Today, though, it meant he did not stand out overmuch in the crowd. He was no orphan of the rift -- that remained clear in the sharp line of his shoulders, in the knowing glint in his eye, in the predatory grace with which he carried himself. But it did mean he could pass for someone from Naboo, some frequent visitor to the makeshift town the dimensionally dispossessed called their own. Some of those he passed mistook him for an aid worker, and though he had no handouts for them, neither did he disabuse them of their notion.
He found Bellamy’s home in short order. Like its visitor, there was little enough to distinguish it from its surroundings. Also like its visitor, there was a faint indication of something unique, visible only to the knowledgeable observer. The Force drifted in the air around the home, curling in the windows and under the door, as fine as smoke. Drawn as it was to this relatively new vessel, it was as good as a signpost to Glasya’s keen sense. He sidled up to the entrance, brushed barely detectable specks of dust from his white linen shirt, then rapped lightly at the door.