- OOC
- Apollyon
- Joined
- Jun 24, 2023
- Messages
- 33
- Reaction score
- 12
J’aver hardly remembered anything after the dueling ring on Mustafar had reached its zenith. They remembered the pain of molten duraplast that had run down their throat and rapidly cooled even as it burnt through their esophagus to drip onto their chest. They remembered that they had called Cremek’s lightsaber to their hand to protect his corpse from the unwashed masses. Even now, they didn’t understand why their instincts had guided them to do that.
After that everything was a blur.
J’av remembered collapsing to the ground, they heard the faint beeping of medical droids. Fuzzy memories of half heard conversations whispered by surgeons echoed in their ears. The damage they had sustained was catastrophic, they would need extensive cybernetic reconstruction. Then there was only more blinding pain as flesh was sliced, cut, pulled, and removed. In its place, cold steel was put in and sealed into place.
When J’av awoke it was to the sound of what remained of their throat trying to open and breathe. It was the undertone of a flesh-y wet pop that accented every inhale they were forced to take. There was no mechanical breath-y exhalation of the rebreather that had been grafted to their face. Instead, each breath came in as a gasp and every exhale did as well, each accented by the sound of tortured flesh popping around metal.
At first, they were disoriented. J’aver didn’t recognize the sound they heard as their own breathing. Their hand slowly reached up to their face and found a bulky rebreather where their jaw and nose had been. Panic flushed their system as their hand explored something entirely foreign to them.
The heart monitor picked up rapidly in response to what J’aver was feeling. They felt their heart thudding in their ears but the forced breathing didn’t speed up to match the increased pulse. The sensation of false suffocation flooded their senses as a woman in a white robe rounded into their line of sight. She looked past them and gave an order in an alien tongue before she returned her attention to them.
“You are alive.” She told them. “You must relax.” She instructed. “The Dark Lord is on her wa-“ Her voice was cut off as her throat was sealed off by an invisible hand.
J’aver’s red eyes bore down on her, their fear channeled into might, and that might was focused entirely on silencing the woman. With just a little more pressure they could crush her windpipe. Somehow, they knew it. Then the last thing she had said dawned on them, the Dark Lord was coming.
Their world cleared.
The woman was a doctor, she was turning blue before them. J’aver her released and she collapsed to the floor in a heap of sputtering and gagging. J’aver felt their heart slow back to a normal pace. The entire time their forced breathing never changed its pace, the fleshy pop accenting each deep, painful breath. Those hateful eyes fell onto the woman as she tried to recover. A unfamiliar hollow, tinny, and emotionless voice echoed from them.
“When will she be here?” It asked.
After that everything was a blur.
J’av remembered collapsing to the ground, they heard the faint beeping of medical droids. Fuzzy memories of half heard conversations whispered by surgeons echoed in their ears. The damage they had sustained was catastrophic, they would need extensive cybernetic reconstruction. Then there was only more blinding pain as flesh was sliced, cut, pulled, and removed. In its place, cold steel was put in and sealed into place.
_/\___/\___/\___/\___/\___/\___/\___/\___/\___/\___/\___/\___/\___/\___/\___/\___/\___/\___/\_
When J’av awoke it was to the sound of what remained of their throat trying to open and breathe. It was the undertone of a flesh-y wet pop that accented every inhale they were forced to take. There was no mechanical breath-y exhalation of the rebreather that had been grafted to their face. Instead, each breath came in as a gasp and every exhale did as well, each accented by the sound of tortured flesh popping around metal.
At first, they were disoriented. J’aver didn’t recognize the sound they heard as their own breathing. Their hand slowly reached up to their face and found a bulky rebreather where their jaw and nose had been. Panic flushed their system as their hand explored something entirely foreign to them.
_/\___/\___/\___/\__/\__/\__/\__/\__/\__/\_/\_/\_/\_/\_/\_/\_/\_/\_/\_/\_/\_/\_/\_/\_/\_/\_/\_
The heart monitor picked up rapidly in response to what J’aver was feeling. They felt their heart thudding in their ears but the forced breathing didn’t speed up to match the increased pulse. The sensation of false suffocation flooded their senses as a woman in a white robe rounded into their line of sight. She looked past them and gave an order in an alien tongue before she returned her attention to them.
“You are alive.” She told them. “You must relax.” She instructed. “The Dark Lord is on her wa-“ Her voice was cut off as her throat was sealed off by an invisible hand.
J’aver’s red eyes bore down on her, their fear channeled into might, and that might was focused entirely on silencing the woman. With just a little more pressure they could crush her windpipe. Somehow, they knew it. Then the last thing she had said dawned on them, the Dark Lord was coming.
Their world cleared.
The woman was a doctor, she was turning blue before them. J’aver her released and she collapsed to the floor in a heap of sputtering and gagging. J’aver felt their heart slow back to a normal pace. The entire time their forced breathing never changed its pace, the fleshy pop accenting each deep, painful breath. Those hateful eyes fell onto the woman as she tried to recover. A unfamiliar hollow, tinny, and emotionless voice echoed from them.
“When will she be here?” It asked.
@Altaris
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