Derek Davian
Derek was having his own adventure on the other side of the building he jumped over. He landed right in the middle of two of the initiates, who were also drunk. They thought he looked a little more jedi-like than most people around there. "Hey, are you a jedi?" One of them asks. Derek smiles a little. "Hmm... now why would you think that?" Just then he pulls two rocks with the force right at the back of their heads knocking them both out. He chuckles a little. Derek had never been too good at close combat fighting, but he was amazing when it came to using the force. He had been moving objects since he can remember. It was almost like second nature to him. He was far more likely to use objects around him as weapons than using a lightsaber. He was fantastic at reading other people's attacks and blocking them, but he was pretty bad when it came to retaliating.
Once the two were knocked out he glances around. "Jayden?" He springs up like a kangaroo, grabbing onto the edge of the roof. He glances out, seeing her chop the head off of the remaining initiate. "Damn it, what is she doing?!" He grumbles to himself. It might have been a smart choice to act like an initiate yourself, but he couldn't agree with slaughtering those who were defenceless. Also, just being around someone with that sort of evil strength was always dangerous. He had heard stories of the strongest jedi knights turning to the dark side. He knew where they would be going, and he had to follow her and break her free.
He quickly moved down the alleyway to the cantina. He found an initiate there who didn't seem to be too drunk. Derek had pinned the initiates pin on his cloak and approached his 'fellow initiate'. "Hey, they are wanting us to return to the academy for training. They told me to come here and round everyone up I can find." The initiate seemed less than pleased to leave just as he arrived, but Derek had a plan. He glances around the room before sitting down. "Ahh, what the hell, one drink won't hurt anybody right? Here, watch this." With that a pitcher slowly lowered off the shelf at the bar and began to fill itself up at the tap. His face was one of pure concentration as the pitcher slowly crept its way around the counter, behind the bar tender, under some tables, and then into his hand. "This one's on me." He says with a grin as he pours both of them a drink.