https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rI9IdT4-xsA
Stones shook. The air swirled. The whole of reality bent to the will of the beast, in his overconsumption of unnatural power. Abhorrence, obscenity, revulsion; these described the dark energies that coated and enveloped every crevice of the rising monster. A low rumbling marked the subtle laughter of the amused deity of putridity, as his unleashed energies generated scornful wounds upon the usurper.
"You underestimate the true depths of my voracity, friend, you have seen nothing!"
The Darth's blackened flesh began to crack at the edges of his smile as stones upheaved themselves into their orbits surrounding the man. He was the great invisible divot in space, by which all objects centered their momentum upon, and the massive void... was beginning to open. Light poured from the wounds, as they sliced through the midnight darkness of his obsidian carapace, etching upwards to his eyes, carving downwards across his neck to his over bloated breasts, stretched across the hills of his stomach. Red and violet, both in their coloration, the transmogrification was far from complete, and far from permanent. It would last as long as his will lasted, and as he had proven time and time again... few could match the sheer forceful will power that the Dark Lord could impose on an individual.
A knife cut through the temples of the Great Gorging One, as he dipped further and further into his oceanic well of sinful, disgraceful, indulgent powers. It was difficult to image, the thing that cut him. The nagging, eating thing siphoned upon his flesh, as a parasite to his immeasurable power, and his unscalable ambitions. A shudder was set through the bulbous beast, a shudder of revulsion and disgust only he could comprehend. Snarling, he fought quickly against the hastily thrown distraction, slurping up the putrid offenses to his unnatural form as his maddening eyes glared down upon the former 'friend'.
An arc of crimson flashed across the canopy of thickening darkness, the density of the air palpable under the overbearing presence of his unseemly girth. Time within the eyes of Voracitos dilated to a perception that allowed him great leisure, true to his natural state of being. A blade of his own, erupted from his wrist, shattering pieces of the obsidian skin from his flesh; the crimson energy matched in hue to the offenders blade, but enveloped in a thick indulgent case of black-violet influence, caressing the blade forcibly in a manner most perverse. The deflowered saber was then violently grasped by a thick meaty hand encased in perversion, cradling in his palm in a manner that exuded unwanted provocation. The blade was then furiously forced to devour the air in an arc that swept across the seemingly endless horizon of stomach folds, colliding with the offending blade in a flash of heated sparks, the two blades forced on to each other under the will of their oppressive masters. The low rumblings of his laughter, were in such a manner, to seem as if it was the earth itself that reverberated in its nearly inaudible melody, while eyes ravaged the space between he and Vornskr.
The obsidian cracked by the will of [member="Darth Vornskr"], and in its place violet and crimson light seeped out from beneath it all. The further it cracked, the more exposed this irradiating energy, polluted the earth. With each subsequent crack, and destabilizing break across his corrupted flesh, the slow rumbling power of his voice rose in amusement. It would become apparent, after enough exposure to his technique, that Vornskr would soon see just how easy it would be to 'pop this tick'... but upon the further evaluation of everything being contained by that thin carapace of already destabilized degenerating mass of blasphemy, this might be one 'tick' he may not want to 'pop'. Voracitos had learned much about himself since Ashin, in her stripping him of his power from delving too deeply... he had developed a natural defense now to deter the natural deterioration of his most unique skill.
"Ha ha! NOTHING!"
The Colossus of Corpulence seemed to unhinged his face, in order to extend his jaw as far away from the top of his teeth, by which an averting nausea literally seeped out of his mouth in an explosion of gaseous particles, as a repugnant plague of pestilence bathing his immediate forward vicinity in a powerful blast of decaying artificial disease.
