Someday I'll be a published writer, then senpai will notice me.
What the fuck am I even doing.
Order 66- Fall Of Jedi Knight Pazik "Is that it? Is he dead?"Order 66- Fall Of Jedi Knight Pazik by *The13thScarecrow
The all too familiar voice was heavy, filtered through the fog of near-death and static.
Pazick lay on the ground, life leaking quickly from his broken body as he stared blankly at his once loyal friends. White helmed heads glanced at each other, their movements blurred through the heaviness of the Jedi's eyes. The air still smelled of burnt ozone, white hot energy bolts having just ripped through the Zabrak's body. His nose stung from the sharp smell of the clone's rifles, the scent choking his already failing breath.
A trooper of the 501st eased tentatively toward the fallen Jedi Knight, cautiously stepping over the slain robed bodies of other Jedi. White boots clicked on the meditation room's floor, the splash of blood under the trooper's feet still heard even over the chaos being wretched through out the Temple.
Staring emptily up into the black visor of the trooper, Pazick felt himself slipping
TRH BLOCKHEADSSilence, as they say is golden. As the metal beneath his feet softly thudded underneath him, Beau couldn’t agree more, even though crouching this long was a bit of an annoyance. The thick metal of the air vent he was creeping through gave almost no noise; almost no indication that someone was stalking about through the humid air. A slight smile cracked Beau’s lips, hidden behind the black visor of his combat helmet.TRH BLOCKHEADS by *The13thScarecrow
Wiping steam from the T-shaped visor, Beau rubbed the circled ends to accommodate his eyes free from the fog. Kneeling down next to a vent to check his location, Beau hunched against the ventilation wall and activated the holopad built into his left bracer. A soft green light illuminated off the screen, bathing Beau in a sickly light, turning the brown hue of his armor and helm an unpleasant color. Beau pressed a finger to the screen and the menu projection came up. Flicking through the files, he brought up the schematics of the Republic Embassy of Demur buildin
WRITING CONCEPTMiranda stood at the doorway of the dark apartment's room, the gore and blood ofWRITING CONCEPT by *The13thScarecrow
a police squad splattered on the dark wooden floor. She tugged nervously
at the hem of her simple black dress, clutching the steel
crucifix hanging from her slim neck on a fine, silver chain.
She shifted in her boots, hesitant to cross the threshold of the bloodbath.
Shakily walking in, her boots made faint splattering sounds upon the puddles
of dark blood.Her wide eyes did all they could to ignore the torn limbs that
littered the floor. In her effort to ignore the horror around her, a boot
kicked against something solid, a dull thud breaking the silence.
Fighting every urge to look down, Miranda squeezed her hazel eyes closed,
inching what felt to be round out of her path.
Her will faltered, a single eye peeking open to glance down.
Revulsion swelled up from her gut, bile rushing to her mouth at the sight
of a man's head, visibly torn from the jaw, staring up at her with pale
eyes. Pausing to regain compo