"I can't believe they let you teach."

Anakin was not in a mood to deal with a luau. At all.

Especially after the news his son had passed along.

So he was perched on a rock in the dark with his hood of his robe up over his head, staring out at the crashing waves and meditating on the the vastness of the Force.

It only looked like brooding.

Anakin came into the office yawning.

A month of mostly sleepless nights will do that to you, even with garish walls to keep you awake.

He pushed papers around on his desk listlessly.

Yup, hugely productive day today.

Anakin was in his office sketching something out on what appeared to be almost an entire ream of paper.

Every now and again his attention would wander and he'd stare out the window and watch the rain fall, lost in thought.

[OOC: Open like an open thing...contents of conversation with Sam C. NFB]

Buttercup's Lament (Princess Bride) - Marc Gunn

Darth Vader was in his office brooding.

He'd handwavily gone home to scare the Stormtroopers working on the newest Death Star. It was very close to being weapons ready--something that filled him with a sick sort of dread.

And when he came back, his meditation chamber had been destroyed because he'd spent the entire weekend thinking he was a lion (except for an equally humiliating time believing he was some kind of actor from Earth). He'd given advice to some random cub.

And now he wanted to eat duck.

His life was terribly hard, yes.

So he sat in his office with the door propped open, poking occasionally at the musical instrument Rose had given him and tried to keep his mind off of what it had felt like to feel the breeze on his face again.

[OOC: Contents of conversation with Rory are NFB, please.]