Darth Vader
Aug 9th, 2004, 10:38:25 AM
<center><font size=-2>Metallica - King Nothing
Wish I may
Wish I might
Have this I wish tonight
Are you satisfied?
Dig for gold
Dig for fame
You dig to make your name
Are you pacified?
All the wants you waste
All the things you’ve chased
Then it all crashes down
And you break your crown
And you point your finger, but there’s no one around
Just want one thing
Just to play the king
But the castle’s crumbled and you’re left with just a name
Where’s your crown, King Nothing?
Where’s your crown?
Hot and cold
Bought and sold
A heart as hard as gold
Yeah! are you satisfied?
Wish I might, wish I may
You wish your life away
Are you pacified?
All the wants you waste
All the things you’ve chased
Then it all crashes down
And you break your crown
And you point your finger, but there’s no one around
Just want one thing
Just to play the king
But the castle’s crumbled and you’re left with just a name
Where’s your crown, King Nothing?
Where’s your crown?
Huh!
Wish I may, wish I might
Have this wish, I wish tonight
I want that star, I want it now
I want it all and I don’t care how
Careful what you wish
Careful what you say
Careful what you wish you may regret it
Careful what you wish you just may get it
Then it all crashes down
And you break your crown
And you point your finger, but there’s no one around
Just want one thing
Just to play the king
But the castle’s crumbled and you’re left with just a name
Where’s your crown, King Nothing?
Where’s your crown?
Oh, you’re just nothing
Where’s your crown King Nothing?
Oh, you’re just nothing
Absolutely nothing
Off to never, never land</font></center>
In the heart of it's lair, the beast stirred.
-hisssssss-
The pressurized interlocks released from Darth Vader's mask. A mechanical arm gripped the angular edges of the Death's Head, and peeled it back from the Dark Lord's face. The man inside, cloned from the essence of Anbira Hicchoru, and twisted to the full extent of evil, squinted his yellow eyes against the harsh white light of his meditation chamber.
Something malevolent had befallen him. He was never Anbira Hicchoru, but further still never was he Darth Vader. His cloned blood boiled with unnatural hatred in his veins, and his evil will alone had threatened to undo him.
A medical droid approached the Dark Lord, and inserted a tube in his neck. With another appendage, it prodded an open sore on the side of his face with a needle, injecting medical nanodroids onto the wound. They would bind his flesh, and patch the harm he wrought upon his own body. It was a temporary fix. A finger plugged into a bursting dam.
The Dark Lord's skin was blanched. Dark blue veins spidered across his temples, and his once full black hair was beginning to recede. Such was the sacrifice he was willing to make to truly drink from the Dark Side. His body was destroying himself, to fulfill his obsession with power. His cloned genes were being ripped apart, causing cancer to ravage him.
It would be unwelcome news to most, but the Dark Lord was unfettered. It was worth it all to command the power he held. If nanotechnology was required to stitch the seams together, so be it! It would not be the first means taken to perpetuate himself, nor would it be the last.
As the medical droids worked on his immediate treatment, Vader reached to a nearby keypad, sending an encrypted message to his consort, Lady Vader. He had many things to ask of her now.
Wish I may
Wish I might
Have this I wish tonight
Are you satisfied?
Dig for gold
Dig for fame
You dig to make your name
Are you pacified?
All the wants you waste
All the things you’ve chased
Then it all crashes down
And you break your crown
And you point your finger, but there’s no one around
Just want one thing
Just to play the king
But the castle’s crumbled and you’re left with just a name
Where’s your crown, King Nothing?
Where’s your crown?
Hot and cold
Bought and sold
A heart as hard as gold
Yeah! are you satisfied?
Wish I might, wish I may
You wish your life away
Are you pacified?
All the wants you waste
All the things you’ve chased
Then it all crashes down
And you break your crown
And you point your finger, but there’s no one around
Just want one thing
Just to play the king
But the castle’s crumbled and you’re left with just a name
Where’s your crown, King Nothing?
Where’s your crown?
Huh!
Wish I may, wish I might
Have this wish, I wish tonight
I want that star, I want it now
I want it all and I don’t care how
Careful what you wish
Careful what you say
Careful what you wish you may regret it
Careful what you wish you just may get it
Then it all crashes down
And you break your crown
And you point your finger, but there’s no one around
Just want one thing
Just to play the king
But the castle’s crumbled and you’re left with just a name
Where’s your crown, King Nothing?
Where’s your crown?
Oh, you’re just nothing
Where’s your crown King Nothing?
Oh, you’re just nothing
Absolutely nothing
Off to never, never land</font></center>
In the heart of it's lair, the beast stirred.
-hisssssss-
The pressurized interlocks released from Darth Vader's mask. A mechanical arm gripped the angular edges of the Death's Head, and peeled it back from the Dark Lord's face. The man inside, cloned from the essence of Anbira Hicchoru, and twisted to the full extent of evil, squinted his yellow eyes against the harsh white light of his meditation chamber.
Something malevolent had befallen him. He was never Anbira Hicchoru, but further still never was he Darth Vader. His cloned blood boiled with unnatural hatred in his veins, and his evil will alone had threatened to undo him.
A medical droid approached the Dark Lord, and inserted a tube in his neck. With another appendage, it prodded an open sore on the side of his face with a needle, injecting medical nanodroids onto the wound. They would bind his flesh, and patch the harm he wrought upon his own body. It was a temporary fix. A finger plugged into a bursting dam.
The Dark Lord's skin was blanched. Dark blue veins spidered across his temples, and his once full black hair was beginning to recede. Such was the sacrifice he was willing to make to truly drink from the Dark Side. His body was destroying himself, to fulfill his obsession with power. His cloned genes were being ripped apart, causing cancer to ravage him.
It would be unwelcome news to most, but the Dark Lord was unfettered. It was worth it all to command the power he held. If nanotechnology was required to stitch the seams together, so be it! It would not be the first means taken to perpetuate himself, nor would it be the last.
As the medical droids worked on his immediate treatment, Vader reached to a nearby keypad, sending an encrypted message to his consort, Lady Vader. He had many things to ask of her now.