Darth Vader
Mar 12th, 2004, 04:18:34 AM
ka-churrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
The black sphere at the center of the room opened up like an evil lotus, its glossy petals falling away slowly to the floor. Inside, a stark white chair rested, along with an extensive array of devices.
The Dark Lord of the Sith stepped forward, through the gap in the chamber panels, and sat in the chair. With a whine of pneumatics, the chamber drew inward on itself again, the top panel descending from above to form an airtight cocoon, away from the outside world.
As this cocoon wound tight, another opened. A hiss of pressurized air broke the seal on his mask, as Vader dislodged his helmet, and pulled the faceplate from his visage. Droid appendages inside the chamber held both items, as a manipulator arm rigged with intravenous needles approached, and sank the hypodermics into a series of ports on each arm.
Cut off from the world, the reborn Darth Vader seemed an ironic shadow of the man he imitated. The twisted science of his cloned origin, and the malicious dark arts he fully embraced were assaulting his body in tandem. His skin was pale. The irises of his eyes had taken on a horrific jaundice, turning them yellow. Here and there, jagged blue veins could be seen running beneath his skin.
It was now a bi-weekly affair, to spend hours in this dungeon, rebuilding his body. The stronger he became, the more his flesh protested. It was written into his very destiny to obsess and covet such power, at any cost. Even the very foundations of the Dark Side he had mastered required that he pour himself into their dark furnaces, to fuel his power even more. Though rarely used, these techniques would devour the user's own life force.
Now, the ultraviolet pulses began, triggering controlled mutations to "correct" the small aberrations in his genetic makeup that were now inevitable. As the purple light strobed in carefully-measured patterns, Darth Vader murdered another part of Anbiraa Hicchoru's waning humanity.
The black sphere at the center of the room opened up like an evil lotus, its glossy petals falling away slowly to the floor. Inside, a stark white chair rested, along with an extensive array of devices.
The Dark Lord of the Sith stepped forward, through the gap in the chamber panels, and sat in the chair. With a whine of pneumatics, the chamber drew inward on itself again, the top panel descending from above to form an airtight cocoon, away from the outside world.
As this cocoon wound tight, another opened. A hiss of pressurized air broke the seal on his mask, as Vader dislodged his helmet, and pulled the faceplate from his visage. Droid appendages inside the chamber held both items, as a manipulator arm rigged with intravenous needles approached, and sank the hypodermics into a series of ports on each arm.
Cut off from the world, the reborn Darth Vader seemed an ironic shadow of the man he imitated. The twisted science of his cloned origin, and the malicious dark arts he fully embraced were assaulting his body in tandem. His skin was pale. The irises of his eyes had taken on a horrific jaundice, turning them yellow. Here and there, jagged blue veins could be seen running beneath his skin.
It was now a bi-weekly affair, to spend hours in this dungeon, rebuilding his body. The stronger he became, the more his flesh protested. It was written into his very destiny to obsess and covet such power, at any cost. Even the very foundations of the Dark Side he had mastered required that he pour himself into their dark furnaces, to fuel his power even more. Though rarely used, these techniques would devour the user's own life force.
Now, the ultraviolet pulses began, triggering controlled mutations to "correct" the small aberrations in his genetic makeup that were now inevitable. As the purple light strobed in carefully-measured patterns, Darth Vader murdered another part of Anbiraa Hicchoru's waning humanity.