𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐘𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐆 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐁𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 , mangled corpses , his eye drawn to lightsaber in hand . with a DISGUSTINGLY wet crackling sound , grievous rips the hilt free before standing and turning to dooku , flaxen eyes COLD / hard , intense / scorn replaced by DELIGHT as he looks back at newly collected saber / harsh slit pupils DILATING in the face of jedi destruction , alike loth - cat prepared to pounce .
“ killing smuggler scum is beneath me , ” grievous rumbles ( . . . ) looking IMPERIOUS as he hands his master the lightsaber . his voice RESONATES along hilt ( amplified by it and the temptation to ignite kyber blade ) . “ . . . but JEDI , never . ”
@serennosith, 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 .