Smooth
Ben leaned against the counter, a grin plastered to his face. Quickly, he tossed a glance behind him, at his Uncle Lando who sat at the table, urging him on. He turned his attention back to the girl behind the bar. A pretty blond, around his own age; bright, inquisitive blue eyes stared at him.
She smiled at his grin, and for a moment, words fled him.
Then he spoke, "How you doin'?"
From behind him, he could feel Lando's chagrin and embarrassment. He fought the urge to look at him again.
But her smile turned brightened up a notch.
Rough
Ben knew the punch was coming. He could feel it in the Force before the Devaronian ever decided to throw it. He let it connect, and heard the girl behind him scream his name.
The force of the impact spun him around , knocking him down to the rough ground. Bits of gravel and dirt abraded his chin.
He sat up, and used the back of his hand to wipe away the blood. It stung and he knew he needed to get bacta on it or risk infection.
Standing, he grinned at the Devaronian, and said, "Now, it's my turn."
Dry
The Tatooine heat blasted down on him, leaving him parched and thirsty. Heat waves shimmered in the distance, as he climbed yet another dune, nearing the edges of the Juudland Wastes. Ben knew his father was out here, hiding away in a hermitage; probably the one that his mentor hid in all those decades ago.
He wiped his brow, cursing his father for coming here.
Finally, he crested the ridge and saw the stone hut.
Warmth that had nothing to do with the dry heat filled his soul as he could feel his father's presence glowing brightly in the Force.
Wrinkled
Ben looked down at his wrinkled, withered hand. Made useless by some arcane power of his cousin.
Darth Cadeus laughed, igniting a fire in Ben's soul.
He clenched his good hand, and looked around for his saber, as his eyes fell once more on her form. She was lying a few meters to Jacen's left, a black burn slash running down her chest.
He stretched out with the Force, called his saber to him and screamed, as he charged Jacen.
Lightning flared to life, caressing his skin. He continued advancing, his anger and hate giving him power to go on.
Weathered
It had been a number of years since he had last been to this worn, weathered, beaten hut nestled in Tatooine's Juudland Wastes. Since that time, his father had returned from it, his wife killed by Jacen, and he destroyed Jacen.
Yet he had touched the Dark in order to do so.
So now, he was here once more. Determined to hide and live and die away from the galaxy. Away from everything.
He didn't need it anymore. The galaxy had taken away everything he had ever cherished. He had weathered his storms, and now he only wanted to rest.
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