ENDLESS LIST OF FAVOURITE FIGHT SCENES » [2/∞] ↳ general grievous vs the jedi in star wars: clone wars
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Monterey Bay Aquarium

oozey mess
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

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@theformerwarlord
ENDLESS LIST OF FAVOURITE FIGHT SCENES » [2/∞] ↳ general grievous vs the jedi in star wars: clone wars
YOU'RE EITHER THE BUTCHER OR THE CATTLE.
tagged by: birdofsmilesandsorcery (what a doll tbh)
Repost this and tag ten people you wanna get to know better.
TAGGING:
I'm just going down my list of followers I've interacted with and picking them and then just choosing a few random mutuals so
purplelieswithgarneteyes nostalgis therisingdarkness cybertronianwyvern themostmagnificentbastard uncxnsolable scruffylookingsolo iseultshepard secondsith legendsinthegalaxy
Name: Stephen/Stephanie Nicknames: Steph, Steff, Steffu Birthday: August 22nd Gender: Bigender, at best. IDK, it's really inconsistent but for the most part I end up feeling female. Sexual Orientation: Pansexual. Height: 5ft 4in Favorite color: Orange Time and date at current moment: 10:02 PM EST, 11/29/2014 Average hours of sleep: 6 Lucky Number: 9 Last thing I googled: whats the last thing i googled First word that comes to mind: Anger One place that makes me happy: Florida How many blankets I sleep under: Two. An owl blanket and a purple one. Favorite Fictional Character: General Grievous and Savage Opress. V from V for Vendetta. Nnoitra Gilga from Bleach. Rick Sanchez from Rick and Morty. Juliet Starling, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Catwoman. Darth Talon, Ventress, the list goes on please don't make me choose just one. Book: Pleasure by Eric Jerome Dickey. Animation: It's not consistent. I've been really fascinated with the Me!Me!Me! animation with the dancing half naked chicks, but I know that fascination will shift when the next best thing comes out. TV show: Hey Arnold! probably, as of right now. Since it's usually on at night when I finally have the TV to myself. Favorite Beverage: Madagascar Vanilla Red rooibos tea. Favorite Food: Ice cream. Last movie I’ve seen in cinemas: ???? UH. I DON'T REMEMBER IT'S BEEN THAT LONG. Dream Holiday: Disney World. Dream Wedding: Haha. Wedding. Haha. Marriage. HAHA. Dream Job: Animating either traditionally or doing 3D animation. I know how to do both.
I'll be back to replying to things in about a week or so, I promise.
The holidays are coming up and I've been busy because school finals are right around the corner. I also have two jobs and four college classes, plus responsibilities at home.
He was fortunate, in his hurrying, that he hadn’t locked those doors.
There was a brief moment where she worried he had, hearing the successful click as the locking mechanisms fell into their respective chambers, and closed the entry way. Her pace only quickened, coming to now jog down the hall until the idea of his state worsening brought her to a full sprint. She was thankful for the amount of leg she was given, because she was able to use it to arrive to the room shortly after his transmission had begun with the Count.
She ignored the goosebumps that riddled her skin when she heard his voice.
Once she arrived at the doors, she was taken back when they had opened for her. Had he not been reduced to a suffocating mess on the floor, she might have actually smiled in relief. No, instead a look of concentration forms on her features, and she wastes no time entering the room and racing to the side of the cyborg, augmented servos grasping his shoulder before looking up. She made eye contact with the face of the Sith Lord, and for a moment, she felt her entire body run cold. It was obvious, the look in her eyes.
Fear.
"…My apologies, My lord. I have to attend to the General." Were her only words before she switched the transmission off.
Stupid. What an absolutely stupid reflex, but it had to be done. She would have to swallow her pride and face her reprimanding like an adult later. With the syringe in hand, she moved in the line of sight of the general, trying to use her free hand to gain access to the armor covering his chest.
"General, I know it’s difficult but you have to try and control your breathing. Your condition is far worse than I thought. Hold on." She urged, concentrating on the cyborg. She was prepared, she just wished she didn’t have to resort to these measures.
Damn.
The Count was in the middle of speaking, but only to be cut right off by the Medic. Only one could imagine what an unimpressed, unamused face was left lingering from the formerly receiving end.
He didn't have much of a chance to protest. Not right now. Not when he felt as if his insides were on fire, and he was rendered unable to do, well, really much of a thing about it. Only a growl of protest managed to slip from the General's voice system, just before another set of wheezes began to come back in the same intensity just as before.
It was difficult to see through the tears in his eyes as everything seemed to just blend together. Shapes began to lose their outline, colors began to mesh, and clarity was lost, with the only thing he could distinctly tell from all the events was the pair of eyes looking right at him.
Green eyes.
Very green.
I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine.
"JU'UNO!"
His voice was not a plea for mercy. That was not him begging for help. Not him asking for it, either. There was no sound of fear in his voice. Only anger. Rage, and anger.
She cut the transmission. She stopped him from doing what needed to be done, and what he was completely convinced that he could handle. Surely this would not look good on his track record with the Count. The mere fact that the medic intervened only could further back up the idea that he needed to step down.
Which was why the cyborg made a swat at her with one metallic hand. It was rather blindly, however. And chances of him missing were great, especially with his vision practically taken from him by the tears, and the nonstop wheezing that he was only just starting to try and take control of.
And, yet-- The instant that she would get to open past that armor, would be the instant that he'd freeze up. He'd at least know better not to move with exposed organs when there was the risk of his movements actually messing up something that was presumably, attempting to be fixed.
i have this weird self-esteem issue where i hate myself but i still think that im better than everyone else
General Grievous - Revenge of the Sith
I came up with the idea of General Grievous as a leader of the droid armies. He’s kind of an alien in a droid’s shell which is, sort of, an echo of what Anakin is going to become… -George Lucas [x]
She heard the audio cue of the transmission from the terminal just as he had. She paid it no mind of course, even as he wheezed and insulted her through choked gasps. She was preoccupied filling a syringe with the luminescent purple liquid from the container the droid had brought her earlier. She had hoped she wouldn’t need to use a stronger formula on the general, truth be told, primarily because his body seemed to be adjusting to the previous solution so well. Her assumptions that it would stay that way seemed to come back to bite her in the end.
His body was simply starting to absorb and break down the antibody’s. And making very quick work of them it seemed.
"Uh… Doctor?" The droid buzzed, twitching in the direction of the now fleeing cyborg.
"In a moment, please." She hummed, eyes trained on the syringe meeting the 3/4th’s mark on the tube. The droid buzzed in once again, the medic returning the ping with a tired look of annoyance before watching the last twist of a dark blue cape leave through the doorway before the doors clicked shut.
"Yeah. The Gene-" The droid didn’t even get to finish before the woman was following after, boots clicking quickly against the polished floor.
"Take my equipment back to the medical bay!" She shouted, not hearing the whine of protest that emitted from his vocalizer. Nor did she catch the ‘But I just BROUGHT them to you’, as she made her way after him.
One step of his was easily three of her own.
"General Grievous! You can’t strain yourself like this, you could put yourself through respiratory failure!" She yelled, trying her best to reach him in time. She knew that she would be reprimanded, she knew that later, she would have to face him and his insatiable hunger for violence, but for now? She just needed to catch up with him and try to stop something before it could happen.
Or worse Before he locked the doors out on her.
He wasn't going to stop now. Not when his target was in plain sight. The mere fact alone that the computer working was a celestial miracle in the most unlikeliest of forms. Besides, perhaps this call would be the only working one. Maybe this single call was just a stroke of luck. And luck was a term he'd use loosely.
No matter the situation, to ignore his superior was something that he would not want to do. Not if it's important, which it had to be. He was scheduled to have a talk with the Count later on. This, however, this was early. And unlike how it was planned out, he wasn't the one actually calling his superior. It was the other way around.
Despite his wheezing, despite the tears that leaked from his face, he was temporarily blinded, and when he made it into the other room, the calling of the medic only caused him to look over his shoulder as he passed the doorway. With the best of his abilities looking through the tear filled vision, he slammed his hand on the door, and clicked on what he believed was the lock, fully convinced that he had sealed anyone from coming into the room with him.
And even if he had any sense of doubt within him, he wasn't about to turn around and go back to press on the lock. Count Dooku didn't need to wait, and the curiosity and the plausible weight on his shoulders by what was on the other side of the call kept him focused.
The only problem as he went along, when he got to halfway to the other side of the room to his target, his vision remained blurry. And he didn't see the chair in front of him, leaving him to stumble a bit, but never once stopped his advanced. There was another chair, and another one that made him wheeze from the impact, but it still didn't stop him.
The sound of Ju'uno getting closer by each footstep did not bother him, worry-free as he ignorantly believed that he was going to be in peace for the duration of the call, as a hologram began to manifest from the computer in front of him. Initially a bit blurry, and fuzzy, the coughing General slammed a fist on the computer, causing it to hiccup, but adjusting itself in the process so that a clear manifestation of who was on the other end formed.
Inclining his head, he merely greeted the other before him, and just as his 'Master' was about to speak, the look on the Count's face deepened with disappointment as he, once more, began hacking and wheezing.
"I was checking in early because of a change of plans, but it seems, General, if you are not able to even stay in place competently without issue, perhaps I should reconsider your position--"
There was a worried expression in the Kaleesh's eyes, but he couldn't speak, only as he was clutching his chest and struggling to breathe, right in front of his superior.
And he couldn't even think through his respiratory problem, that he shouldn't have locked those doors earlier.
+ nothingbutpainwillsurvive
A stranger. An unrecognizable one at that.
But, judging by their unprecedented appearance, chances are...
They're not on the same page as he. And, whoever they were, that didn't change the fact that they were in territory that they shouldn't even be in. And that alone, was enough to gain a hostile reaction from the General.
"State your name before you die."
shitty half assed doodles are my favorite
☁
☁ : Favorite part of RPing.
I’m not going to lie. Most of the reasons I ever make muses is because I just like to ship them/have a relationship establishment for them.There hasn’t been a muse that I haven’t made that I’ve not tried to give them a relationship for. Whether it’s a friendship, or something romance related with or without intimacy, it’s the connection and development between two characters that really make my day.
It’s the plotting that I like, it’s the fact that when you have a character making a relationship with another muse, you end up talking to their MOD, and you make more friends. It’s a matter of talking to those friends and just enjoying yourself.
I find that when I often do this, my muse develops in plots that I plan out, and I also maintain the muse. Some people don’t need to do this to have a good, strong muse to get into plots and mastermind great ideas that could very well work with the laws of canon and tell another great story with in-character muses.Unfortunately, I am not one of those people. I am one of those who need someone else to bounce off of.
So that’s why relationship building with muses is probably my favorite.
Bottom-feeder? Him?
Of course to some asshole like that pile of garbage before him, he wouldn’t matter. He hadn’t seen how hard Rajani had fought his way to fame. Hadn’t see him rise and obliterate all those in his way.
Whatever. This asshole didn’t deserve to see him at his best.
"Y’know, yer talkin’ a whole lotta shit for someone who ain’t even armed. You think you c’n back up that shit talk when my sword’s down yer busted garbage chute, or you gonna cry like the stinkin’ pissbaby you are?”
He could feel his teeth sharpen behind his lips at the thought of tearing into this guy. Whatever flesh he may have had - his eyes, at least - would be wonderful to sink his teeth into and ravage. Then again, he could have just angered a more powerful drug lord with connections and his own ass could be in danger.
Eh. He’d take what he’d get. He was itchin’ to find a fight to die in anyways.
His talons were made of pure titanium. The rest of him made of other fairly durable material. Enough to withstand a blaster firing right at him. After all, his outer shell wasn't nearly as important as the material inside that it was protecting, was it not?
He stood seven feet tall, well over three hundred pounds, and lightsabers hidden within his cloak. Snapping bones were of no problem, and clawing through flesh could easily be done without the ability of a lightsaber.
Just the mere notion of using his feet adorned with the sharp talons to crush the other's skull was pleasing to whatever rage was slowly starting to boil to a simmering temperature. Even gutting him was a plausible option.
Impaling the stranger right here, right now could easily teach this fool just where he stood.
The General was a monster, according to those who knew nothing of him. He was a beast born from bloodshed, born from grief and the horrors of war. He was the incarnation of the technology of battle at its finest.
And he brought death with him wherever he went.
The stranger would have to answer to a mechanical hand reaching for his throat, seeking to seize it and squeeze those inferior, exposed and vulnerable internal structures in his throat shut. Those windpipes didn't need to be used. He'd heard more than enough.
And talking wasn't something he wasn't going to engage in with an idiot.
fxsto
What a familiar face. More often than not, the General was the one to first make any sort of comment on a new presence.
But, he'd let the other speak first, if they so wished to. Otherwise, he'd make the first move. There was nothing to fear. And he made that known as he kept eye contact with the Jedi that dared to make himself visible.
ofnegotiations
"Kenobi."
A clear bitterness in the cyborgs tone lingered as the recollection of their past run in came to his mind.
"And here I thought you died before I would ever get the opportunity to get around to it."
Before she had managed to even try and push against him to free herself from the grip, a second hand took a vice like grip on her ankle, squeezing well past the firm layer of the protecting leather boot.
To make matters worse it was the already harmed leg, causing the girl to gasp out in pain.
This was bad. Her lightsaber was somewhere within the darkness of the generals cloak and out of sight, her wrist and ankle in a grip that threatened to break bones in a matter of seconds. In her head she cursed herself for not wearing the leg and arm guards that most Jedi in the field wore.
Seeing as she didn’t stop struggling, and the pain only made her more desperate to get free, it was not long before she could almost hear the bones break Beneath the crushing grasp, pain searing through her entire body from her leg.
"I…I have already learned." Katya glanced up at the reptilian eyes that seemed to stare right through her, her expression carrying a shadow of pain but she had stopped struggling and writhe in pain. “I have learned that you truly are the ruthless machine everyone says you are…”
Finally. Finally she spoke, as he watched the girls pupils dilate. He was waiting to see if the pain would cause her to feel ill, or cause her to break out into a sweat from the severity. Reactions varied between each individual, but usually those physical signs were good ones on just how bad the victim was handling the situation.
I have already learned.
That didn't sound as convincing. There was no pleas for mercy. There was no screaming and begging for her pathetic excuse of a miserable, ignorant existence.
I have learned that you truly are the ruthless machine everyone says you are.
That might have been a bit better, but that quickly changed entirely very quick.
ruthless machine
Ruthless machine.
Machine. Robotic. Mechanical. Not living. Artificial. Incapable of feelings, incapable of freedom of thought, incapable of having dreams and aspirations. Incapable of love. Incapable of emotion.
She knew nothing about him, and yet she had the audacity to utter such an insult to the one who held her life in his hands. Whether the insult was intentional or accidental, that changed not the pain that came with the self loathing and shame that bubbled beneath the metallic plating where the fleshy, organic center lingered. That center that was, in fact, capable of recalling all the moments that he was treated as less than.
All because of this body. All of his past, all that he worked for, all of the sacrifices he'd made were irrelevant. It was individuals like the Viceroy who treated him as if he had no feelings, it was those who provoked and set up a timebomb within the mind of the General.
And for someone so lowly, so beneath him... To just insult him--
A twisted snarl of organics and machinery tore through the silence between them, and it sounded, briefly, as if there was a sound of pain beneath that monstrous roar.
"I AM NOT A MACHINE!"
It was with that, that the General went for the other girl's leg, letting go of the one that was previously broken just to snap her last good ankle with a force harder than what he exercised previously.
"A machine wouldn't be as cruel and capable of implementing the kind of torture I can. You will see this."
I burned all your letters I buried all your stones The curses and the raptures, I kept them for my own