So while others wrote about women flipping shiny blonde hair and puckering glossy, cherry-red lips, I...well...here's me, enthusiastically waving my freak flag.
image by Thomas Hawk via flickr |
It
had been two days since Sidious had woken me so harshly, forcing me to accept
the evilness in my being. Now, I finally steeled my metal-strengthened spine
enough to sweep my cape out of the way and sit wretchedly on the bench in front
of my dressing room's perfectly polished mirror.
As I pivoted my head slowly back
and forth, the bright white ceiling lights reflected luminously off my new,
shiny helmet. The nearly round eye covers bulged black, staring emptily at me,
as if I weren't in here at all. The vertical lines of my speech synthesizer
stood like long, barred, angry teeth. The armor that covered my burned cheeks
was sunken and skull-like.
Only two points of non-black existed—one silver
rivet at either side of my jaw. In the glaring light, they shined like Padme's
teary eyes the last time I'd seen her. What would she think of me now? A
monster?
A monster.
So, what do you think? Freak enough for you?
If you'd like to see more fun "bad" writing, I wrote another piece where I included as many stereotypical tics that we writers tend to use when describing our characters' behavior as possible.
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