Revan's not cheating, or at least she'll make a convincing argument that letting the Force guide her hand doesn't count if she doesn't steer the axe into the target with telekinesis. Correspondingly, instead of being absolutely perfect, she's just very, very good, racking up bullseyes from her first throw. Of course, the casual observer could be forgiven for thinking she's cheating, because rather than walk the 15 feet to the target, she keeps retrieving the axes with telekinesis, to the mild consternation of the attendants. In case that isn't enough of a clue about her profession--and around here, why would it be?--the lightsabers she's got on either hip might help. They look a little weird with her nondescript "civilian" outfit.
"Huh," she says as she calls yet another axe back to her hand with the Force. "This doesn't get old as quickly as I thought it would."
NAPs
Eventually, Revan retires from the field of metaphorical battle so she can drink more than one beer in an hour and glance over the icebreaker questions. She likes friends, and she likes not getting marked as a troublemaker until it's time to make real trouble, so sure, she'll play along. Everything is completely aboveboard here. She's not suspicious of anyone or anything.
Or at least she's really good at selling that lie. Revan smiles up at the newcomer, gesturing to the seat opposite her. "Hi, I'm Revan, and according to this, I'm supposed to ask you what you wanted to be when you grew up."
Revan | OTA
Revan's not cheating, or at least she'll make a convincing argument that letting the Force guide her hand doesn't count if she doesn't steer the axe into the target with telekinesis. Correspondingly, instead of being absolutely perfect, she's just very, very good, racking up bullseyes from her first throw. Of course, the casual observer could be forgiven for thinking she's cheating, because rather than walk the 15 feet to the target, she keeps retrieving the axes with telekinesis, to the mild consternation of the attendants. In case that isn't enough of a clue about her profession--and around here, why would it be?--the lightsabers she's got on either hip might help. They look a little weird with her nondescript "civilian" outfit.
"Huh," she says as she calls yet another axe back to her hand with the Force. "This doesn't get old as quickly as I thought it would."
NAPs
Eventually, Revan retires from the field of metaphorical battle so she can drink more than one beer in an hour and glance over the icebreaker questions. She likes friends, and she likes not getting marked as a troublemaker until it's time to make real trouble, so sure, she'll play along. Everything is completely aboveboard here. She's not suspicious of anyone or anything.
Or at least she's really good at selling that lie. Revan smiles up at the newcomer, gesturing to the seat opposite her. "Hi, I'm Revan, and according to this, I'm supposed to ask you what you wanted to be when you grew up."