(( OOC: In my next post, a bombing will occur at the spaceport (as a very messy, though successful, assassination) and the bomber will run away. The basic plot of this thread will include chasing down and attempting to apprehend the man. Because Kaala is by no means capable of doing this on her own (being an actual child), please feel free to jump in and help chase down the bad guy. Whether it is as law enforcement, a rival criminal, a Jedi intent on bringing him to justice, or maybe you owned those crates and want to be reimbursed for the damage. Whatever. ))
It had become a habit of Kaala's to come to the local spaceport after school. It was a decent way to get her mind off the stress of academics by people-watching. It was a good day to do so, too. The air was warm but the mixture of fog and smog in the air, although humid, kept it at a reasonable temperature. The crowds were dense, chatty, and ships were lifting off and landing, lifting off and landing. One of her favorite activities was to guess at the lives of different travelers. Was he a bounty hunter with that fancy gun? The old woman in loose robes and kinds eyes gave her monk vibes. The zabrak with burnt orange skin had a dangerous gleam to his eyes. Some pasty young man with curly blonde hair clutched a dirty green backpack to his chest and seemed determined, yet moved around in a paranoid way. She watched as he approached a bunch of crates and set his backpack down. There were so many people for her to watch, yet none of them saw her. It was a public space, but private all the same.
After a while of slouching against the steel beams that supported her little ledge, Kaala decided it was about time to head home. The togruta teen stretched out, sat up, then slid off the ledge and began to slip off onto the ground.
It had become a habit of Kaala's to come to the local spaceport after school. It was a decent way to get her mind off the stress of academics by people-watching. It was a good day to do so, too. The air was warm but the mixture of fog and smog in the air, although humid, kept it at a reasonable temperature. The crowds were dense, chatty, and ships were lifting off and landing, lifting off and landing. One of her favorite activities was to guess at the lives of different travelers. Was he a bounty hunter with that fancy gun? The old woman in loose robes and kinds eyes gave her monk vibes. The zabrak with burnt orange skin had a dangerous gleam to his eyes. Some pasty young man with curly blonde hair clutched a dirty green backpack to his chest and seemed determined, yet moved around in a paranoid way. She watched as he approached a bunch of crates and set his backpack down. There were so many people for her to watch, yet none of them saw her. It was a public space, but private all the same.
After a while of slouching against the steel beams that supported her little ledge, Kaala decided it was about time to head home. The togruta teen stretched out, sat up, then slid off the ledge and began to slip off onto the ground.