Fandom Island and Town

Kanan hadn't gotten himself half as drunk as he had intended to, last night. As fate would have it, there weren't exactly many similarities between the credits that he generally used to pay for things with, and the almighty American dollar. Not enough to pass muster when he wanted to be drunk enough to not think too hard about the day that had gone before, at least. So he'd made his way back to the Expedient, had scavenged around a bit, and had made do with the single bottle of ferment that Okadiah hadn't already quality-tasted to emptiness.

And then he'd gone to sleep, there in the cockpit. Because he hadn't taken enough time to go through the papers he'd been handed yesterday. The ones that gave him directions to the apartment that he already, somehow, had lined up waiting for him upon his arrival. Those he found that morning, which had led to a few rude words as he tried to stretch a few kinks out of his back, and a brief jaunt downstairs from the roof he'd parked on in order to check on the state of affairs in what was apparently his new apartment.

... Needed a bit in the way of amenities. But he'd slept on worse floors in his life, so he'd cope.

Today's goal, such as it was, was at least somewhat more productive than his 'drink to forget' strategy, last night. Today, he was going to get himself acquainted enough with this place to figure out where he could get his credits changed into the local currency. Because Okadiah's alcohol reserves had been great, but Kanan hadn't eaten since yesterday at the picnic, and that was something he was going to want to change, soon.

As it stood, he'd passed by plenty of restaurants, most of which were giving off smells that were mouthwatering in spite of the fact that he couldn't quite place them, and he still hadn't found the bank. So. This was going well.

[OOC: Why not? One shiny new teacher, wandering lost. Open if anyone wants to bump into Jedi Dad a roustabout gunslinger in need of directions.]