(no subject)
Lately, Jedi Jaina Solo hasn't been too fond of tapcafs. It's become impossible for any Jedi to walk inside of one without getting worried looks from the patrons or predatory looks from reporters, both groups just waiting for an incident to happen. Of course, it doesn't help that being Jaina Solo attracts those kriffing journalists for a whole different set of reasons.
But Jag wanted to meet here. Something about trying to have a normal date like normal people. Which is why, if not for the lightsaber swinging off Jaina's belt, you might not consider the petite woman to be a Jedi at all. Not with that low-cut red tunic and the tight black leggings she wears beneath it.
Still standing by the door, Jaina cautiously looks around for Tyrr or any other reporter ready to jump her with a million questions on the Jedi or her engagement or Force knows what. But what she quickly determines leaves her utterly confused.
This isn't the tapcaf on Republic Boulevard. It's something else.
"...what the kriff?"
[ooc: opened until it falls off the page]
But Jag wanted to meet here. Something about trying to have a normal date like normal people. Which is why, if not for the lightsaber swinging off Jaina's belt, you might not consider the petite woman to be a Jedi at all. Not with that low-cut red tunic and the tight black leggings she wears beneath it.
Still standing by the door, Jaina cautiously looks around for Tyrr or any other reporter ready to jump her with a million questions on the Jedi or her engagement or Force knows what. But what she quickly determines leaves her utterly confused.
This isn't the tapcaf on Republic Boulevard. It's something else.
"...what the kriff?"
[ooc: opened until it falls off the page]