The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant next to the power of the Force (open)
Who: Luke Skywalker (And whoever happens to want to see the lonely bugger.)
What: Quiet time for old guy.
Where: Zone 2. Random park
Summary: Luke Skywalker decides to train a little, get some exercise in, and maybe entertain himself in a world even a Jedi feels alone in.
Notes: HE'S LUKE SKYWALKER AND HE'S HERE TO RESCUE YOU--EVEN IF HE'S A LITTLE SHORT TO BE A STORMTROOPER (seriously, open)
That emerald blade Luke had managed to construct during his time in the warehouse; while quiet with himself, swung about in front of him with distinct patterns. Crossing, pointing, jabbing, dropping, parrying make shift blades as he quietly went through a routine exercise he knew by heart by now. The blade spun in one hand as he twirled about his back; spinning in a twist on a single foot, before bringing his other foot down in a fencing-type move; the lightsaber stabbed forward with butt end held up, saber slightly angled down. He then twisted and carried the blade into both hands as he dropped low, with a strike, a sweep of his hand and then the dance continued still.
Sweat beaded down the Jedi's temple, staining against that black undershirt he usually wore out of view beneath his tunic. It clung tightly to him; exposing his bare arms to the cold night air about him. He was aged well into his 60's and near his 70's yet the man looked as fit as he was at twenty. If not more so. He moved with graceful ease, through an exercise that could last him hours--once it lasted days. At the moment it was reaching well into the three hour range, with no sign of exhaustion forming on him, other than that beading sweat.
The cloak he'd become famous for, and the tunic that usually covered all of his frame was discarded off to the side, as he moved along that silent 'park', the swinging emerald blade keeping his mind focused and free of the worry of his world, his family, his friends--his son. Or even of the people here. People he called friends, but people he didn't feel called him the same.
What: Quiet time for old guy.
Where: Zone 2. Random park
Summary: Luke Skywalker decides to train a little, get some exercise in, and maybe entertain himself in a world even a Jedi feels alone in.
Notes: HE'S LUKE SKYWALKER AND HE'S HERE TO RESCUE YOU--EVEN IF HE'S A LITTLE SHORT TO BE A STORMTROOPER (seriously, open)
That emerald blade Luke had managed to construct during his time in the warehouse; while quiet with himself, swung about in front of him with distinct patterns. Crossing, pointing, jabbing, dropping, parrying make shift blades as he quietly went through a routine exercise he knew by heart by now. The blade spun in one hand as he twirled about his back; spinning in a twist on a single foot, before bringing his other foot down in a fencing-type move; the lightsaber stabbed forward with butt end held up, saber slightly angled down. He then twisted and carried the blade into both hands as he dropped low, with a strike, a sweep of his hand and then the dance continued still.
Sweat beaded down the Jedi's temple, staining against that black undershirt he usually wore out of view beneath his tunic. It clung tightly to him; exposing his bare arms to the cold night air about him. He was aged well into his 60's and near his 70's yet the man looked as fit as he was at twenty. If not more so. He moved with graceful ease, through an exercise that could last him hours--once it lasted days. At the moment it was reaching well into the three hour range, with no sign of exhaustion forming on him, other than that beading sweat.
The cloak he'd become famous for, and the tunic that usually covered all of his frame was discarded off to the side, as he moved along that silent 'park', the swinging emerald blade keeping his mind focused and free of the worry of his world, his family, his friends--his son. Or even of the people here. People he called friends, but people he didn't feel called him the same.