#doom inspired

[mraveryofficial]

🎮 Chain Shotgun 🔔 ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ɪᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰᴀʀ… ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴀꜱ ᴡᴇʟʟ ꜱᴛᴀʏ.

[dukesnukes]

SOME DOOM INSPIRED DEMON DESIGN STUFF! HIS NAME IS BARON! I MADE THIS A WHILE AGO BUT IM NOT CERTAIN I POSTED IT ALL...

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Star Wars Wednesday

(This has been floating around my head since the weekend)

"How did my father die?"

It wS such a simple question, and yet Obi-wan could feel his muscles tense. His jaw locked up, his pulse thundered in his ears. The words he had thought he might say retreated down his throat and he was left with the bare and ugly truth.

"I...don't think he did, Luke."

The boy jolted, and the look that flashed through his eyes, a combination of hope and attempted rationalization, struck Obi-wan to the heart.

"But...Uncle Owen said-"

Obi-wan sighed softly. "Said he was dead, I know. He told you that because that's what I told him when I brought you to your aunt and uncle, nineteen years ago. And at the time, I believed it was true, Luke, I really did."

Luke sat quietly for a long time; he leaned against the wall, trying to digest this piece of information. Turmoil radiated from his Force signature clouding the room, and just when Obi-wan was about to ask, he spoke again.

"If...if my father is alive, then why...why didn't he come back?"

It was so hard to know how to put it into words. How to tell the boy that his father probably believeed he died at birth -- if he rremembered his past at all. Obi-wan wasn't sure he did.

"Have..." he trailed off, bolstered himself and began again. "Have you heard the legends of Darth Vader?"

Luke frowned. "The Nemesis?" he asked, "Yeah, I hear the old spacers at Tosche Station talk about him."

He knew the stories, wildly varied as they were. The species of the Nemesis was rarely agreed upon, but there were a few details that stayed the same in every version. There was always a warrior, unmatched in combat, one of the Jedi in the Clone Wars -- which one was uncertain. The Jedi was tricked by one he trusted into becoming a vessel for a dark power, and it cost him the lives of every Jedi in a terrible betrayal. Not until the Nemesis woke from his terrible battle, barely alive, did he realize what had happened. He grievously wounded the Emperor -- his once trusted friend -- and began a quest to avenge his family and atone for his betrayal.

In some versions the Nemesis also lost a spouse and one or two children. Those are usually the versions where the Nemesis isn't a Jedi.

Regardless of who Darth Vader really was under that armor, the fact of the matter is that he had been cutting a bloody swathe through the forces of the Empire for as long as Luke had been alive. He wasn't associated with the Rebel Alliance: Vader was more of a concept than a person. Sheer retribution in a humanoid form. A force of nature.

Luke couldn't understand why Obi-wan had started talking about the Nemesis. Weren't they talking about Anakin Skywalker just now?

When Obi-wan turned to look him in the eye at last, there were so many emotions in his face that Luke wondered how he could be holding onto any shred of composure at this point.

"I can't be sure," Obi-wan croaked, "I can't be sure until I've seen him. Until I've sensed his presence in the Force. But I think...I...think Darth Vader knows where your father is."

Not the whole truth, but it wasn't a lie, either. It was just that Obi-wan couldn't quite bring himself to get his hopes up. Not yet.

He knew he couldn't call out to his old friend to find out.

The Nemesis wasn't the only one listening.

[stunning-eclipse]

Sinful Symbolism

Based on doom eternal and the icon of sin

Art made by me!

[imx-doomer]

Entryway by Robin Eltorro

Bar scene inspired by the first level of Doom 2.

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Star Wars Wednesday

A sequel to last week's picking up a little later in the story. Warning, will get a bit violent because Vader Happens

The cold always came first.

Dull at first, like the ache of a bruised limb. Then slowly it would sharpen until troopers swore they could see condensation on their armor. Sharp enough to stab into the throat like needles, sliding down to line the lungs. The kind of cold that set into the bones. The kind of cold that tightened their joints so that they couldn't even tremble.

The cold wasn't what made them afraid. It was what came with the cold.

Warning sirens blared around the hangar, warning of imminent impact, but at first it was ignored. This was the mighty Death Star! If some poor fool meant to ram his ship into it, that was his funeral. The offending ship was caught quickly in a tractor beam and pulled towards one of the hangars. But rather than shut down engines or attempt to reverse, the pilot accelerated.

And then an old Separatist troop transport smashed into the hangar bay, sending fountains of sparks over every trooper and tech unlucky enough to be within a kilometer. Even those burned by the friction and the showers of superheated metal fragments did not move right away. They didn't feel the burning, not at first. There was nothing but cold.

And then breathing.

The moment he stepped from the wreckage of the captured ship, every man present knew his moments were numbered. Smoke curled around smooth, black armor, layered and polished to a menacing shine. He stared out at them from behind a helmet reminiscent of both a Mandalorian and a death's head. Not many looked upon that mask and lived to tell the tale.

Through a grill or grate of some kind over the helmet's mouth came a harsh, echoing breathing. It was almost mechanical, as those someone had connected a pair of pulmonodes to a speaker. The breaths never varied. Slow and steady, in and out. In and out. Panicked, yet mesmerized, the stormtroopers stilled and one by one began to match their breathing to the Nemesis. Waiting.

The cold stabbed at their throats, sharper, more forceful, until it seemed to squeeze. Tighter, colder, and then mercifully, it was over.

Seventeen Imperials dropped to the deck, like puppets whose strings had been cut. Darth Vader ignited his lightsaber and began to walk. He had not killed those men to stop them from raising the alarm. Stealth had never mattered much to Vader. There was very little that could hinder him, why should he waste time?

The Nemesis cut through the Death Star indiscriminately. Blaster or bulkhead, flesh or bone, it was all one to him. The Force burst around him, black and howling. It raced up the walls, slithered through the vents as he stalked the battle station, eagerly drinking in death as Vader ripped through doors and tore companies of soldiers apart. Slice and snap. Rip and tear. He seemed to move mechanically, as if he was a drone on a preprogrammed mission, and his victims were no more than inconvenient obstacles between him and his objective.

And then the black tide rushed forward too greedily, and hit a wall it could not permeate. Hissing, recoiling, the shadows returned to their master. He did not stop. If there was something that the Dark Side recoiled from, it was no threat to him. A rare smile tugged at the corners of his mouth beneath the mask and broke, for one moment, through his rage. He used the Dark Side, but he did not love it. It was no more than an object to him. A tool, a malady he bore with patience until his task was complete. There was a faint satisfaction in seeing his oily chains at their weakest.

Vader strode on, and the deck trembled around him. He stepped into the lift and let it drop. Deck 5. That was where the Force was drawing him. That was where the Dark Side both longed to overwhelm and wanted to flee. Was it a Jedi?

He had no great love for Jedi. During their era, he had come to find them naive at best and stubbornly stagnant at worst. But he had atonement to make to them, and so if a living Jedi was in the detention block, they would leave this station alive.

The sound of blasterfire drew his attention, and he continued to march. Ahead, three young humans and a very irate Wookiee exchanged fire with a small squad of troopers before the cold got to them. The young woman looked up, clutched her blaster against her chest like a child with a favored doll, and then she saw him.

Within the Empire, that rolling, burning cold always came as the herald of pure terror. To those subjugated by the emperor, it brought something else entirely.

The girl was looking at him with hope in her eyes. She knew the Nemesis would not harm enemies of the Empire so long as they did not threaten him. Beside her, the boy...

The boy tugged at a faint memory, carefully buried for twenty years. He was looking up with awe, and fear, but within his Force signature there was a trace of childish excitement. Almost as if he was seeing a chance to meet his hero. Ridiculous child. Vader was no one's hero.

These two. It was from these two that the flare of Light had come. While they were clearly not Jedi, that did not preclude the possibility of them becoming padawans in the future.

Of course, there had to be a future for them, first.

Darth Vader never slowed his steps. He walked steadily, relentlessly, until he had moved three paces beyond the ragtag little band. And then he stopped, silent save for the hiss of his breath and the hum of his sword. He stood, holding his blade loosely in his hand, and watched the squad of stormtroopers with deadly calm. He remained still, even as more soldiers poured into the corridor from both sides.

"Gi-" one of the soldiers began to speak, but his voice failed him. He composed himself, raised his gun, and tried again. "Give up, Vader. We have you surrounded."

Vader shifted to put the four escapees at his back. And then, for the first time, he spoke.

"All I am surrounded by," he said in a terrible, thundering voice, "Is fear, and dead men."

[imx-doomer]

Metal by Jeff Yeomans

I was listening to the doom soundtrack while working and I wanted to do something inspired by it. So combining my love for art, metal and video games, I looked up some doom posters and some concert photos and made a fun little bit of fan art. I never do fan art anymore, I dont really like it. But I had fun with this one.

Website: http://jeffyeomans.blogspot.com/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jeffyeomansconceptart

[imx-doomer]

George by Alexander Odam

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