- Joined
- Apr 14, 2017
- Messages
- 252
- Reaction score
- 283
It was a glorious sight.
Sal roared with great anger and fury as his blue lightning arced onto the cat at point blank range. "Unnnnlliiiiimiiiited poooowweeeer!" he screeched like a banshee in glee, his yellow teeth chattering in excitement as he saw the woman's form become an inhumane mixture of red and blue, her body practically ripping herself apart as she experienced pain on a visceral level. She may not know his name, but she would remember the pain he caused her, the scientist would make sure of it. The jedi were all the same at the end of the day, just like the sith really, they had their hurrah but went meekly into the shadow without so much as a dignified bow, they were all actors tied up in strings. Well, Sal may have considered himself an actor in these great star wars, yet there were no strings on him. So, as he began to vaporize the jedi's flesh, aiming to fry her internal organs and turn her brain into gel, he laughed his heart out, laughing at her and her kin, her padawan, Nayel, himself, and the whole damned galaxy. Life was all a comedy after all, a grim and melancholic comedy, but a comedy nonetheless. At the end, when the lights dimmed on the stage, and each actor exited stage left, he knew he'd still be there...
For he who laughed last, laughed longest.
As the Emerald green lightsaber cleaved through his left hand, causing it to fall to the ground with a satisfying 'plop', the mad scientist would continue to laugh at the jedi's pain as she was sent convulsing far away by his second round of lightning. For a moment, there was calm on the battlefield, as the rebels who saw the body of the burning jedi arcing through the air were stunned by the wretched sight she had turned into. Her calmness in such torment did not aide their fleeing hearts, for one by one, they too began to realize the hopeless of their struggle. They realized that in the end, there would be no great memorial dedicated to their sacrafice nor their courage, only a resounding silence to accompany the ever-present darkness of a cruel and uncaring galaxy. A darkness of ignorance, of chaotic disinterest, a primal sloth at its core. Surely they realized then how futile it all was and that, now in their final moments, how they were going to be killed like swine and nobody would care nor remember them. They had achieved enlightenment, they had seen the dark that Sal had seen, the true nature of the Dark Side.
"Paint it red! Paint it all red!" Sal laughed, not caring nor feeling the pain coursing through his body as his hand was lost. The dark side was to suffer, just as life was to suffer- and, after all, all comedy was based on some form of suffering right? Therefore, what better time to laugh, then when in one's greatest euphoria, as well as one's greatest pain? The scientist continued to laugh uncontrolably as he used his right hand to press an electronic pad on his left forearm, activating a command signal to his platoons. The time had come. Upon seeing the sith's signal, the 3d and 4th platoons let out a mighty roar, leaping from their trenches out onto the battlefield, sprinting forwards past the sith towards the still stunned rebels. In a combination of flame and blasterfire the rebel torches were set ablaze, the final obstacle to Korrado's base had been overrun. Even now, as the stormtroopers overran the base, taking out the guns and flushing out Korrado from his rat's nest, the sith still knelt their in euphoric biss, laughing across the battlefield.
It was only some time later, as the looting of the base continued, that the sorcerer would finally stifle his laughter, picking up his decapitated hand and a trophey of his victory today. A discblade, one that the jedihad used. A primitive tool, but deadly in the right hands- or 'hand' as Sal now considered himself. He would hold onto it for safe keeping. For now, the sith simply watched as the last bastion of resistance on Belsavis crumbled beneath the might of the Empire, the fires and fear overwhelming his senses from top to bottom.
Sal smiled, and exited stage right.
Sal roared with great anger and fury as his blue lightning arced onto the cat at point blank range. "Unnnnlliiiiimiiiited poooowweeeer!" he screeched like a banshee in glee, his yellow teeth chattering in excitement as he saw the woman's form become an inhumane mixture of red and blue, her body practically ripping herself apart as she experienced pain on a visceral level. She may not know his name, but she would remember the pain he caused her, the scientist would make sure of it. The jedi were all the same at the end of the day, just like the sith really, they had their hurrah but went meekly into the shadow without so much as a dignified bow, they were all actors tied up in strings. Well, Sal may have considered himself an actor in these great star wars, yet there were no strings on him. So, as he began to vaporize the jedi's flesh, aiming to fry her internal organs and turn her brain into gel, he laughed his heart out, laughing at her and her kin, her padawan, Nayel, himself, and the whole damned galaxy. Life was all a comedy after all, a grim and melancholic comedy, but a comedy nonetheless. At the end, when the lights dimmed on the stage, and each actor exited stage left, he knew he'd still be there...
For he who laughed last, laughed longest.
As the Emerald green lightsaber cleaved through his left hand, causing it to fall to the ground with a satisfying 'plop', the mad scientist would continue to laugh at the jedi's pain as she was sent convulsing far away by his second round of lightning. For a moment, there was calm on the battlefield, as the rebels who saw the body of the burning jedi arcing through the air were stunned by the wretched sight she had turned into. Her calmness in such torment did not aide their fleeing hearts, for one by one, they too began to realize the hopeless of their struggle. They realized that in the end, there would be no great memorial dedicated to their sacrafice nor their courage, only a resounding silence to accompany the ever-present darkness of a cruel and uncaring galaxy. A darkness of ignorance, of chaotic disinterest, a primal sloth at its core. Surely they realized then how futile it all was and that, now in their final moments, how they were going to be killed like swine and nobody would care nor remember them. They had achieved enlightenment, they had seen the dark that Sal had seen, the true nature of the Dark Side.
"Paint it red! Paint it all red!" Sal laughed, not caring nor feeling the pain coursing through his body as his hand was lost. The dark side was to suffer, just as life was to suffer- and, after all, all comedy was based on some form of suffering right? Therefore, what better time to laugh, then when in one's greatest euphoria, as well as one's greatest pain? The scientist continued to laugh uncontrolably as he used his right hand to press an electronic pad on his left forearm, activating a command signal to his platoons. The time had come. Upon seeing the sith's signal, the 3d and 4th platoons let out a mighty roar, leaping from their trenches out onto the battlefield, sprinting forwards past the sith towards the still stunned rebels. In a combination of flame and blasterfire the rebel torches were set ablaze, the final obstacle to Korrado's base had been overrun. Even now, as the stormtroopers overran the base, taking out the guns and flushing out Korrado from his rat's nest, the sith still knelt their in euphoric biss, laughing across the battlefield.
It was only some time later, as the looting of the base continued, that the sorcerer would finally stifle his laughter, picking up his decapitated hand and a trophey of his victory today. A discblade, one that the jedihad used. A primitive tool, but deadly in the right hands- or 'hand' as Sal now considered himself. He would hold onto it for safe keeping. For now, the sith simply watched as the last bastion of resistance on Belsavis crumbled beneath the might of the Empire, the fires and fear overwhelming his senses from top to bottom.
Sal smiled, and exited stage right.