Obi-Wan is aging surprisingly well (obi1) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-09-12 20:56:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !complete, obi-wan kenobi |
Snooping Around
Who: Obi-Wan Narrative
What: Obi-Wan stops by Neena's shop
When: Wednesday Morning
Where: Lucky Shot Guns; Irvine, CA
Ratings/Warnings: PG
Status: Complete
Obi-Wan repeatedly told himself he was going on a hunch and nothing more; but he didn't really believe it. Something was... wrong. Very wrong. The world around him seemed out of step, out of sync, pear-shaped, just... queer and off and hazy. There was a disturbance in the Force. But he didn't want to believe it.
He wasn't one for blasters guns. He'd never held one in his waking life, never found a reason to poke his head into a store such as this before now. He wasn't here to shop, though.
Bypassing every display, he approached the counter at a measured pace, taking the time to compose his approach to the situation. And steady his nerves. The man on the other side was bent over some paperwork. Nothing seemed to be odd about the setup. Neena might very well appear at any moment, Obi-Wan told himself. But he didn't believe it. Not at all.
His palms were growing clammy. But he soldiered on.
The man lifted his eyes from the table and smiled the sort of smile that was good for business. "Hello," he greeted. "You seem like a man who knows what he wants."
"Hm," Obi-Wan hummed. He placed his hands on the table. "Actually, I'm here to... have a look at the office."
"You want to see my office?" He laughed at the idea like it was a joke.
Obi-Wan lifted his hand. A shaking hand. "So, if you'll just lead me back there."
"...I'll just lead you back there..."
"Splendid." The word rolled off his tongue like a purr. Nervous or not, it was working.
Inside the office, Obi-Wan requested some time alone. With a little more persuasion, the man left him and closed the door behind him. The "clock" began to tick. Soon, the man who snap out of it and reenter the room a little more self-possessed, as it were. And there were a lot of guns out there.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and allowed himself five seconds to plot out the room. When he opened them again, his eyes narrowed a locked drawer.
There was no need to search for the key. A few more seconds of focus and Obi-Wan was in. He was really getting the hang of some things. It was a simple enough job, picking a standard lock. With his mind. Inside, there was whiskey and a few other seemingly random mementos. His hand picked up a crumpled piece of paper. The emotional imprint on it was still warm.
He unwrapped it, and a ring fell into his still-clammy palm. "...I have a bad feeling about this."
There are only three lights, and the right door is left.
Beneath it was a phone number.
He locked the drawer on his way out the door, the paper and ring deep and safe within his pocket. The man at the counter was shaking his head, as if trying to clear it. Obi-Wan brushed his hand through the air. "Thank you. You have been most helpful."
"...Glad to be of service..."