This weekend felt weird. There was something about it digging into his head - the notion of everyone's lives going on, maybe, while he stood around and pretended like being a teacher and a Force user came down to much the same. Then again, did the why really matter? His brain had vomited out one terrible emotional state after the other since he embraced the Force and promptly lost his anchor.

Ugh, the whining. The moping. Atton needed to stop it - and it wasn't going to happen in a glitter-covered school gym where his friends were either A) preoccupied with new significant others, B) preoccupied with old significant others, or C) dogs.

That last one went for Cade, too.

So he'd gone for a walk at the earliest possible time he could escape the dance, and now he was here. The beach. Mope Alley. Space, he didn't even get why people came here. It was cold, and wet, and covered in sand, and the most cathartic thing he could think to do was kick this pebble over there into the ocean.

"This is stupid," he muttered.

Kick, went another pebble.

"You know, you could've at least used some kind of stupid Jedi trick to drop off a message about what I'm supposed to do right now." Beat. "Or leave me a note. Or something."

That last pebble went soaring with particular malice.

Why the hell was he here, anyway? An empty Enclave on Dantooine wasn't much better, but at least if Mira dropped by, well, she had this talent for keeping him out of his own head that did everyone a favor.

... maybe he just needed to get off the beach. It was making him even mopier.

[[ open, if you want to deal with Mr. Happy. ]]