[If anything in this whole scenario could be lucky--if he believed in luck as a specific concept--it remains a bitter, begrudging point of pride that this isn't the first planet that presents a functional anomaly upon landing. The real luck is that the landing hasn't involved some manner of invented excuses, no crash cleverly disguised as some form of "rough" landing.
But all of that aside, the anomaly itself is quite the opposite of luck. An ion storm is the last thing he needed, and of course, it's the first thing he's given, as if the Force itself is giving him a shit eating grin and calling this some sort of "test." No matter what he tries, however, the navigation still keeps blinking in and out, giving a poor scrambled image of the surrounding area, or simply stalling with an annoying warning.
And the static of dead air he gets over the communication system speaks more volumes than a confirmation of error ever could. For now, he's stuck. He leans back against the outside of the small ship with a groan and bangs his head back against the hull with a resounding thud.
The real unlucky part of the trip is when the thud echoes back.
Head still smarting--and honestly that's his own fault, isn't it?--he's suddenly alert, peering intently into the nearby underbrush, his hand moving to rest plainly and intently on the hilt of his lightsaber. And under his breath:]
anakin skywalker | star wars
[If anything in this whole scenario could be lucky--if he believed in luck as a specific concept--it remains a bitter, begrudging point of pride that this isn't the first planet that presents a functional anomaly upon landing. The real luck is that the landing hasn't involved some manner of invented excuses, no crash cleverly disguised as some form of "rough" landing.
But all of that aside, the anomaly itself is quite the opposite of luck. An ion storm is the last thing he needed, and of course, it's the first thing he's given, as if the Force itself is giving him a shit eating grin and calling this some sort of "test." No matter what he tries, however, the navigation still keeps blinking in and out, giving a poor scrambled image of the surrounding area, or simply stalling with an annoying warning.
And the static of dead air he gets over the communication system speaks more volumes than a confirmation of error ever could. For now, he's stuck. He leans back against the outside of the small ship with a groan and bangs his head back against the hull with a resounding thud.
The real unlucky part of the trip is when the thud echoes back.
Head still smarting--and honestly that's his own fault, isn't it?--he's suddenly alert, peering intently into the nearby underbrush, his hand moving to rest plainly and intently on the hilt of his lightsaber. And under his breath:]
I have a bad feeling about this.
.ｗｉｌｄｃａｒｄ
[HMU with your text spam or whatever else. ♥]