[ rey watches. dropped into a world as wholly unfamiliar as coruscant or canto bight might have been, rey watches as much as she can, observing in every moment where she might not make herself a bigger target than she may already be. she isn't stupid — wide doe eyes and innocence certainly hadn't helped anyone on jakku, and she doubts they'll help her here, so she doesn't bother.

is she innocent? perhaps, in the way that duplicity might categorize her. but perhaps not, in others. she's survived all this time, hasn't she? and survival is hardly an innocent girl's game.

in the down, rey is alone. she is a submissive, whatever that might mean, and uncontracted at that — and though she may not understand the social implications of the dominant-vs-submissive division or the reasons why someone's lips might curl into a sneer at her status, she understands freedom when it's given to her just fine. she doesn't have to have anyone, thank you very much. she's gone this long without, she'll manage for however long she's meant to be here too.

she hopes, truthfully, that it might not be long. she has things to do, to be quite blunt about it, and would prefer to do them than other people.

but in the meantime... find her wandering the down, watching with narrowed eyes as a group of young men begin to swarm closer. perhaps they think she's more scared than she lets on. perhaps they just want to steal the slim weapon she's toting. perhaps, more likely than anything else, they want the money she doesn't have. ]

Back off, [ murmured low, but a hand shifts, cupping around the hilt of her saber on her hip. ] I haven't any credits here, but you haven't any sense.

[ maybe that's the wrong thing to say. or maybe it's exactly right to catch someone else's attention. ]

[ she has mostly managed to avoid the over-eager men and women hawking unnaturally strong scents in bottles, taking back alleys or side-exits to avoid their gaze or simply rushing past with another body in front of her as coverage, but even rey's luck cannot hold.

it's en route out of the orientation center, her attention momentarily distracted by the sound of a familiar voice in the distance, that rey eventually takes in a face-full of the stuff. a scent like mustafarian berries, overwhelmingly sweet to the point it makes her feel halfway nauseous, followed by something sharper, almost spicy, like the popped grains in the niima outpost that travelers often picked up. ]

What is that?

[ strawberry-vanilla, apparently, not that putting a name to the offensive scent does her any good; the next volunteer is quick to pipe up in the face of rey's disgust, offering a small bottle of the cinnamon-pear for "a more private sample". private how, rey wants to ask, considering she's just found out the hard way about the whole two-to-a-room concept, but the question doesn't come.

it can't, not when some impatient orientation shepherd is trying to push the last group out in order to get the next in, not when she's being shoved none-too-kindly out onto the open street below, into the perhaps less-than-expectantly-waiting arms of a complete and total stranger.

...

surprisingly comforting arms, at that. ]

Oh, hello.

[ whatever strikes your fancy. please don't hesitate to pm if you want to chat something out. ]