Private The Devil Wears Prada

[Efren Rizal]

This was it. His first real mission.

When Efren first received the news, he was caught between shock and unimaginable wonder. An assignment without Valery's direct supervision? He couldn't quite believe it. Only months ago, he'd been plucked out of a prison cell and inducted into the Jedi Order, and now here he was, striding through some crowded spaceport on his own, free at last from the temple.

Oh, the urge to spray-paint his name on a wall was irresistible.

Alas, Efren had more important things to attend to than pedestrian vandalism. From what Valery had told him, he was supposed to be meeting some other padawan. Together, they were responsible for infiltrating the planet's most popular fashion magazine—Vogue Coruscant—to determine if there was a Sith among their ranks, then to report back to the Council.

Seemed easy enough.

Searching out the padawan had proven the hard part, but Efren had seen them around the temple once or twice, more often than not getting thrashed in the training courtyard. He was no unfamiliar face. So, when Efren spotted him lurking by a newspaper stand, he honed in on him like a gnat to a porch light, greeting him with a sly grin.

"Ah, you must be Master Organa's apprentice," he said. "Mace? Wait, no—Chase?" Efren eyed the boy head to toe. He fit neither name, but it made no difference to him. "Name's Efren. You can also call me Riz, which is short for Rizz, which is also short for Rizal." He offered the boy an outstretched hand. "Pleasure to meet ya."

Jayce Rotsu​

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[Jayce Rotsu]

Jayce shook the hand of neon-haired boy reluctantly, with somewhat of a grimace on his face. He was fresh back from his own first mission to Chiss Space and still somewhat sore from sleeping in a ship bunk for weeks. Efren's enthusiasm would normally have been intoxicating. Now, Jayce just wanted to find the biggest, fluffiest bed to lie down in and hide from everyone for at least a week.

"Jayce," he corrected tiredly. "Jayce Rotsu. You're Master Noble's apprentice? Er, well, one of the Master Nobles', yes? I just got back from Copero with them. Must be why I got paired with you for this mission."

Jayce was more than a little surprised with a second assignment so soon. He wanted to catch up with Amani and show off what Valery and Kahlil had taught him; but Coruscant was at least familiar territory. Sort of.

"Master Noble caught me up on the gist of the mission," he continued. He already was dreading it. Being fashionable was hardly something the Jedi emphasized in their Younglings, and he suspected it'd be a skill he would need to be undercover at Vogue Coruscant. "She said you would have the details. I'm praying one of those details includes why the hell we're infiltrating a fashion magazine."

He pondered calling the Padawan by his name, but stopped himself. Rizz? He wasn't calling him that. He wasn't calling anybody that. Efren seemed just fine, he thought, but now was hardly the time to argue with Master Noble's own hand-picked apprentice. First impressions were important.

Efren Rizal​

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[Efren Rizal]

"Neat-o. You've met Cora? No, wait. Cailen? Shit. I'm horrible with names." Efren snorted a laugh and turned his unaccepted handshake into a pat on Jayce's back. "Oh, well. I'll do my damndest best to remember yours, Chase Rotsu."

He spun around him. There were ears everywhere, but that didn't bother him. He'd a good eye for eavesdroppers and was fairly confident no one was listening. "Alright. I'm a bit dizzy on the details myself, but from what Master Noble told me, there's a smidge chance Vogue Coruscant may be hosting more than just a few divas. Word is they might have a Sith."

Efren slung an arm around Jayce's shoulder and guided him through the space-port, the crowd parting around them like water. "No worries, though. Our task is just to find out if the rumor's true or not and report back to the Council for questioning so they can deal with it. All we have to do is make sure we don't get caught."

He side-eyed the other boy, soaking in his general appearance. No lie, his current outfit was an eyesore. In comparison, Efren wore a sleek-looking, forest green jacket with a loose pair of gray pants, the cuffs short from his ankles. Rings gleamed on his hands. A steel earring swayed from one ear. He'd come prepared as an up-and-coming fashion intern. But Jayce?

"Love the hair, man. But you're kind of dressed like a moisture farmer."

Jayce Rotsu​

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[Jayce Rotsu]

"And you're dressed like a—!"

Jayce stopped himself. Fatigue made his temper short and the Force was slow to dull the heat. The boy liked his hair. Take the compliment. "I mean, thanks, I guess?" He tugged at the clothes he wore. An orange scarf that was too big for him and a sleeveless shirt that showed off the muscle in his biceps. "I was told not to wear my robes since it might give us up, but its not like I've ever been to a department store before. Jedi aren't exactly the paragons of the latest trends."

He glanced up at Efren's hair, which, he had to admit, was a pleasant color. Yellow had always been Jayce's favorite, but somehow the way the green blended with it was better. "Your hair is not too bad either," he added, and then a smirk came to his face, as if some semblance of his fully-awake self had finally kicked in. "Do you use it to direct traffic here at the spaceport? I bet incoming ships can see it from orbit!"

Okay, a bit harsh, but Efren deserved it for pouncing on him so energetically—and for calling him Chase. Who named their kid Chase?

Too slowly, the point Efren was actually trying to make dawned on Jayce. His frown became a sour grimace. "Don't tell me we actually have to look fashionable for this mission?"

Efren Rizal​

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[Efren Rizal]

"—like a dashing rogue smuggler? I know, thank you."

Efren grinned, utterly oblivious to Jayce's flaring temper. Although if he had, his answer would've been no different. He let very little bother him, or get under his skin.

Instead, his smile only widened at the Jedi's little barb. His neon-bright hair had always been his most prominent feature and Efren wasn't unaware to the judgmental looks he'd earned around the temple grounds. Not many Jedi were known to dye their hair or decorate their arms in spiraling tattoos and inkwork. He figured he was among the only and the first.

"Ah, that was cute," he replied. "I might've taken more offense to that if you didn't look like a white-striped traffic cone yourself, but I'll take it as a compliment. I have noticed people like to stare, though I always chalked it up to my good looks and charm."

As he led the other boy out the sliding doors of the space-port and into Coruscant's streets, Efren nodded at his question. "Yup. We're fashion interns, so we at least got to look the part. Fortunately for you, I know a place or two we can start." He leaned over to Jayce. "Say, ever been thrifting before?"

Jayce Rotsu​

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[Jayce Rotsu]

"Thrifting?" Jayce asked. Not only had he never heard of it, he had never spoken the word before now. He threw up his hands in frustration. "Are you even speaking Basic? Of course I've never been 'thrifting,' whatever that is. I've been raised in the Jedi Temple since I was eight. I lived on Haruun Kal before that."

He eyed Efren suspiciously as they walked wherever the other boy was leading him. How were they even going to afford this? Jedi didn't exactly earn credits. The Order covered the expenses of the things they needed. Transportation, clothing, food, all of it. Had Master Noble given Efren some funds for this fashion venture?

"Come to think of it," Jayce went on, tapping his chin. "I don't remember ever seeing you around the Temple. Were you raised as a Youngling too? Maybe at another outpost?"

The Force knew the Jedi had hundreds scattered about the galaxy. Jayce thought all Younglings trained on Coruscant and were only transferred to an outpost when they had a Master stationed there; but what did he really even know? Nothing. He had never been off Coruscant. Everything he heard was rumors and whispers.

Efren Rizal​

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[Efren Rizal]

"Wait. You've never heard of thrifting before?" Efren clapped a hand over his heart, positively scandalized. His ears had to be lying to him. Were all Jedi so sheltered? He found it hard to believe the boy had never ventured outside the temple's walls and done some shopping on his own. But honestly, by the look and sound of him, he shouldn't have been surprised.

"Oh, you poor, lost, uncultured soul." Efren slanted him a pitying look. "You're more of a prisoner than I was." He tsked. "Well, don't you worry that pretty head of yours. Ya boy is here to show you the light at the end of the tunnel, and believe me, there's a lot to see."

Efren swung around Jayce and opened his arms toward a shop at the end of the street they were walking. "Behold, the gem of Coruscant. Reshit's Donation Center!"

His smile radiated glee, but at his back, the shop he revealed seemed on the verge of disintegrating. Unwashed viewing windows. Decaying furniture left on the curb. As if on cue, the neon-bright sign that hung above the shop flickered. The first two letters of Reshit's name had been knocked out, which spelled out less than ideal signage.

It made a horrendously beautiful sight.

"I've been around here once or twice. They've some killer outfits." Efren chinned towards the shop. "You see, I was never actually raised a Youngling. I was raised here. On these streets. Never thought I'd be a Jedi until Master Noble found and begged me to join. A good thing she did, too. Because now I've the chance to show you the wonders of thrifting."

Jayce Rotsu​

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[Jayce Rotsu]

Jayce's brow twitched. He sincerely doubted Efren's recollection of how he'd become a Jedi—Jayce just couldn't see Master Noble begging anyone other than her husband, the other Master Noble. More importantly, he couldn't trust a man who brought him 'thrifting' for fashionable wear from a shop named Shit's Donation Center.

"You call me uncultured and then bring me to a place that looks more equip to steal my organs than provide good clothes," Jayce muttered, a tone of annoyance had slipped into his voice.

He had seen less sketchy places in the Undercity where stores were frequently fronts for Hutts and all other manner of gangster scum. He had to wonder if Master Organa had signed off on this mission. And, if she had, was it meant to be punishment? He thought he had been keeping up well with his training, but maybe he had done something to foul her mood.

"Also, can we back up a moment," he continued, folding his arms. "Did you say 'more of a prisoner than' you?" Jayces' brow raised. "Care to explain that?"

He almost didn't want to know.

The pair came to the entrance of Shit's Donation Center and Jayce made an effort of peering in through the large display window to see if the shop was hiding some truly spectacular clothing, but instead he was met with a thick layer of dust that hadn't been cleaned in years.

When did he visit here? Jayce wondered. This place doesn't look like its been occupied since the Old Republic was in power.

Efren Rizal​

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[Efren Rizal]

Efren laughed at Jayce's muttered jab and clapped him on the back. "Ha! Good one. But you've got nothing to worry about, man. Organ donation center's on the next block over. Only thing this place is gonna steal is your heart. Believe me, it's got some real gems."

Antique smuggler jacket's and tattered pants galore. He could already feel how full his arms were about to get once he was finished scrounging through the many racks and bins of the shop. Thrifting was his third favorite hobby. Right next to vandalism and arson, of course.

At Jayce's questioning glower, Efren made a dismissive and exaggerated wave of his hand. "Pffft. What's there to explain? It's exactly as I said."

"I had a small stint at the old Republic Central Judiciary Detention Center—boy, that's a mouthful—but really, it was only for a night. Master Noble dragged me out and swept me under her wing. Probably saw how much potential I was packing and knew I was worth the trouble. I mean, she was practically begging me to become her apprentice."

Efren stopped short of the door and cast the other boy another razor sharp smile. "Hope that doesn't frighten you. I promise I don't bite."

Jayce Rotsu​

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[Jayce Rotsu]

Great. He was on a mission with a convict.

Jayce wasn't sure of what to think of Efren yet. The boy was braggadocios in a way Jayce sometimes wished he could be. The confidence that oozed from him was real, but there was no real evidence it was misplaced. After all, why would Master Noble have scooped him from jail? There had to be some reason.

Mostly, though, Jayce was just jealous. Freshly scraped from the streets, and this guy already had a Master. Jayce was grateful for Master Amani's lessons. He was grateful she had picked him. But it had been so long, and this guy—

He shook his head. None of that mattered now. He was going to become a Jedi. He was going to prove to gifted pricks like this one that hard work meant more than natural talent. Of course, whether or not Efren had any natural talent was still up for speculation. Jayce supposed this mission would answer the question for him, so he dropped their argument.

Was it even an argument?

"Nah, it doesn't frighten me," Jayce matched Efren's smile with a grin of his own. "I've been patrolling the Undercity since I was a Youngling. Dealing with convicts," He actually mustered up the gall to wink, "is my speciality."

Jayce pushed the door open and stepped into the store. He wasn't sure what he was looking at. It was nicer inside than outside—don't judge a holobook by its sleeve, he guessed. But it wasn't organized neatly like the department stores he'd heard about all over upper Coruscant. Shirts and pants shared racks, tables were sat out with mixed mens, womens, and beings of unspecified genders clothes sharing the same space. In the back, there were racks upon racks of shoes. How were they supposed to find anything in here?

"What exactly are we looking for again?" he asked Efren, brow crooked.

Efren Rizal​

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[Efren Rizal]

"Ooh, there he is. Officer Rotsu reporting for duty. Think I just felt a shiver climb my back." Efren laughed and patted Jayce's back again. "Come on. Now it's time I show you my specialty. Fashion."

As they swept into the thrift store, Efren was hit with that old lady smell, like crusting peppermint and musty fabric softener, and he drew in a long and deep breath. Nostalgia flared his nostrils. Oh, it'd been a while since he last visited the shop, but it felt just like yesterday. He couldn't wait to tear it apart.

At Jayce's question, Efren resisted the urge to laugh a second time. "Wait a minute. We? Oh, you're cute, but let's leave the looking to the experts." Whatever protests the other boy might've made, he ignored it. "The only thing we're searching for here is the hope you won't end our mission before it even begins. So—" He cracked his knuckles, "—let's get started!"

Efren gravitated instead to the first rack he laid eyes on and fingered through the mismatching clothes as if paging through a particularly captivating romance novel. His smile never once left his face. He'd shopped for himself plenty times, but on someone else's behalf? This was a first.

Efren plucked out a loose pair of black pants, a flannel from some backwater agri-world and an undershirt with a graphic of a shrieking porg. He tossed it over to Jayce. "Here. Give this a swirl. Fitting room's over there."

He thumbed over to what looked like little more than a dusty, velvet curtain. It wasn't much, but it was the best slice of privacy one could find.

Jayce Rotsu​

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[Jayce Rotsu]

Jayce took one look at the sheet that passed for a changing room and immediately knew something far more illicit had happened there at least once; even if it smelled earthen and dusty, like it had not been washed in years.

Jayce made quick work of swapping out of his clothes and into the set that Efren had handed him. He supposed they looked nice, though the style didn't fit anything like the clothes his people wore back on Haruun Kal. And, of course, Jedi didn't ordinarily wear street clothes like this either. He wondered how Efren would feel about that once he was made to wear robes and tunics like everyone else at the Temple.

He came out pinching and tugging at the itchy fabric, his original clothes still heaped behind the curtain. "I look like a moisture farmer," he complained, examining himself in a nearby mirror. It wasn't the complete truth. He did like the flannel and thought it accented his muscled forearms nicely. "I don't know. You really think this will make me more presentable for the mission?"

He eyed a pocketed jacket overlaid with a yellow high-neck sitting on a nearby rack. "What about those?"

They didn't look terrible; though, he couldn't have told Efren the first thing about why they seemed to match to him. Maybe it was intuition, maybe the Force—though he very much doubted the Force cared about his sense of fashion.

Efren Rizal​

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[Efren Rizal]

He looked Jayce up and down once he'd finished throwing on the flannel. The boy wasn't wrong. He did look like a moisture farmer, or at least, the colonist of some backwater Rim world. While Efren hated to admit his first choice in an outfit wasn't up to par, he couldn't deny Jayce's last remark.

"Ay, fine. Thought you might rock it, but I may have overestimated your good looks to carry us through." He shot him a wry smile. Sure helped in showing off his arms, but that wouldn't be enough to save him from the many withering eyes at Vogue Coruscant. He had to look perfect.

Efren figured this was going to take hours. Days, maybe. Sifting through dusty racks or exhuming old clothes bins and donation baskets. But to his jaw-dropping surprise, Jayce managed to pluck out a dark jacket with a gold high-neck, like it was perfectly ordinary.

"The fuck?" Efren said in astonishment. "How did you…?" He snatched at the jacket and took a closer look. Cheap price tag. Few wrinkles. No gashes in the fabric. It'd been a long, long time since he found an outfit this good.

"Shit, man. I'm chalking this up to beginner's luck, but you may have just found a pot of gold at the end of a goddamn rainbow." He tossed the clothes into Jayce's hands, then after a quick search, found a loose pair of black pants to match it. "Try this on. Let's see how ya look."

Jayce Rotsu​

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[Jayce Rotsu]

Jayce couldn't help the way his mouth curled into a grin at Efren's approval. Truthfully, he didn't know what he was looking for. He just picked out an outfit he liked and went for it. Perhaps style was innate. Either way, he complied with the other apprentice's demands and tried out the outfit. It was nearly perfect, but lacking something.

Something he could not place.

"What do you think?" Jayce asked when he again emerged from behind the sheet. "It looks good, but it needs... something."

Shoes were his first thought. He couldn't exactly wear Jedi boots on this mission, even if they didn't exactly clash with the outfit. Yet even with the right footwear, there was still something else. Some other accessory. A necklace, a ring, something.

Here, Jayce's inexperience finally reared its head. He looked around, but nothing reached out to grab him the way the outfit had. So, he reached for a simple pendant and held it up for Efren to see. "This maybe?"

He felt ridiculously out of his element even suggesting it. Would any of this even work on the woman they were to shadow? He couldn't imagine the actual employees who had to consider these factors every day. In that way, at least, Jayce was happy to be a Jedi.

Efren Rizal​

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[Efren Rizal]

Efren placed two fingers on his chin and thought hard. Jayce looked good. Dashing, even. His hair complemented nicely with the black and gold, and he gave off a slick, sophisticated feel that hadn't quite been there before. The boy might've lacked Efren's glamor and personal charm, of course, but he had to admit, he saw the appeal.

"Yea, yea," he replied as Jayce stumbled upon a simple pendant. "That works. Simple's best. But how about a little extra something?"

Delicately, Efren pulled off two of his own rings, one a silver band and the other made from pure obsidian. Part of him felt the urge to slide them onto Jayce himself, if only to see his stunned reaction, but instead he tossed the rings over to him like flipped coins.

"Try these." He bumped shoulders with him. "I expect them back once we're done today. They're priceless heirlooms descended six generations back." He cut towards the next rack, thumbing absently through old shirts. "And they weren't easy to steal."

Towards the end of the shop, Efren led them to a vast row of shoes. Boxed heels, boots, flats and slippers. He spread out his arms. "Now, our next great obstacle. Shoes." He cast Jayce a wide grin over his shoulder. "Go on. Follow your instinct. Pick whatever you feel matches. See if you can show me up."

Jayce Rotsu​

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[Jayce Rotsu]

Jayce barely caught the rings tossed to him. He examine each carefully before slipping them onto his own fingers. They were nice enough, he supposed, though he didn't expect Master Noble would allow Efren to keep them once he was back at the Temple. Personal effects were already a 'no,' let alone stolen ones.

He decided it wasn't a point worth arguing and so set himself to the next task of finding shoes to fit his outfit.

Two pairs caught his eyes. One pair because it looked good, and the other that perhaps made more sense with his current outfit. He mulled over them before giving up. He would never be able to decide on his own. Maybe the outfit had just been a fluke.

"I found these," he announced, setting the two pairs down for Efren to examine. "But I can't decide. Did you find anything?"

As he waited for Efren to either approve or dismiss his choice, Jayce became aware of the shopkeep, who had wandered back towards the footwear as well. The large alien was keeping his distance, but eyeing them every few moments. Clearly, he was suspicious the two of them could pay for the items they had selected.

Efren Rizal​

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[Efren Rizal]

"What do you know? You've actually got taste."

Efren took a close examination of the two pairs of shoes Jayce had found. He couldn't deny he was a bit irked that the boy had managed to stumble upon such fine pieces despite having not a lick of fashion sense. Was this what Valery meant by how the Force worked in mysterious and miraculous ways? Because a miracle seemed in the works.

Now, it wasn't all good. One short look at the ketchup-red boots and he snorted. "Hard skip on that. We're interns at a fashion magazine, not waste management." His eyes gravitated back to the other shoes. "But that? Gotta say, that'll do wonders."

The blinding-bright yellow shoes might've been too flashy even for him, but Efren had neon green hair and dazzling tattoos. No reason Jayce couldn't share in the spectacle.

Now, given that they'd found about all they needed, it was time to check out.

Efren wasn't unaware of the shopkeep stalking them from around the shelves. A shame. Part of him had wanted to snatch the clothes and dash out, never to be seen again, but Valery had bailed him out of prison and forced him to promise not to break any more laws while he served as her apprentice. He'd already broken two in the last week. He needed to limit himself.

Grimacing, he looked over to Jayce. "Uh, you've got credits on ya, right?"

Jayce Rotsu​

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[Jayce Rotsu]

Jayce blinked once, twice, blanched, and then snatched Efren up by the shoulder of his shirt, dragging him to a corner of the shop where the shopkeep couldn't hear them talk. Even then, he kept his voice to a low growl.

"You didn't bring credits?" he hissed. This whole time, he thought Efren had been given credits by Master Noble, and that was the whole reason for this shopping excursion. What they hell were they going to do now? "Master Noble didn't give you any?"

Jayce didn't wait for an answer. He didn't need one to know the answer was 'no.'

Which meant they had two options. Flee, which would count as stealing and almost certainly get them dragged before the Jedi Council. Or they could return the clothes, which seemed most sensible. Of course, there was always the option of the Jedi mind trick, but Jayce had never tried doing that in the field.

"Whatever, just follow me and let me do the talking," he stammered as he made up his mind.

The shopkeep had barely turned to face him when he waved his hand and touched the Force within the large alien's mind. "We need these clothes for a mission. When we're done, we will return them, or bring compensation for their worth."

Jayce waited a beat. Two. Then, to his relief, the shopkeep repeated his words verbatim and went back to sweeping the storefront. Jayce sighed with relief and whirled on Efren, who would no doubt find this amusing. "You're asking Master Noble for the funds when we're done with this since this was your idea," he barked, wagging an accusatory finger in Efren's direction. "I just hope Master Organa doesn't scold me for using a mind trick like this..."

He chose not to think about it, spinning on his heel to march out the front door of the shop.

Efren Rizal​

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[Efren Rizal]

"Master Noble, trusting me with credits? Oh, Jayce. You are… too good for this world." Efren patted the other boy on the back and laughed with a shaking head. He'd come fresh out of prison, a criminal and a known vagrant. It was miracle enough he had a lightsaber.

"Well, ya know, we could always just take the clothes and…" Efren made an airy wave, his implication obvious, but when he was met with Jayce's cold glare, he paused and rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, "…or not, I guess."

As the other Jedi Padawan marched over to the shopkeep, Efren just expected him to start negotiating with them like some Core World deuce. Instead, he blinked in surprise as Jayce waved a hand and boom—the shopkeep was satisfied. How that was, he'd barely a clue. All he'd felt was some odd ripple in the Force and they were done.

"Shit, man. That was pretty sick. Where did you—?"

He was silenced again at Jayce's wagging finger. Before he knew it, they were heading out the shop, leaving behind any need to pay. Which was great. While the other boy kept his eyes on the door, Efren helped himself to a couple accessories, his pockets jingling with antique necklaces and rings. A hundred credits worth, at least.

Back on the street, Efren chased after him. "Hey, man, wait up. That thing ya did back there." He wiggled his fingers. "Was that a Jedi mind trick? How'd you learn how to do that?"

Jayce Rotsu​

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[Jayce Rotsu]

Jayce was glad to be back outside in fresh air—or about as fresh as the air in Coruscant could get. He was still reeling from what he had just done. Until now, the extent of his troublemaking had been sneaking around in the Archives after hours. Viewing databooks off-limits to Padawans. This was different.

"Yeah," he said to Efren, who had followed him out. "Let's just hope he doesn't lodge a complaint with the Alliance Senate or the Order when the fuzz wears off. Jedi aren't supposed to use mind tricks on Alliance citizens. Not without authorization, at least."

Master Organa was going to kill him. She was going to drag him before the Council, berate him, and then kill him.

Jayce caught the curious glance from Efren out of the corner of his eye. The newbie was a headache. A cute headache, damn him, but one that had quickly gotten him into more trouble than he'd bargained for. "Don't even ask," he growled. "I wouldn't even know how to teach you to do it. Besides, you'd probably use it to rob another store."

He was only half-kidding.

"Now, we've got the new threads," Jayce went on. "I should look 'stylish' enough now, or whatever. What else did Master Noble say about this job? What's next?"

Efren Rizal​

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