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Goddamn do you paint a pretty picture. I can see the nightmarish warren in my mind as Ohone races along the catwalk towards the massive vat. We really should bleach the whole drat thing and make that cocoon doesn't make it out. Edit: Oh a new page huh. Well then enjoy this picture of what I believe Ohone looks like. I did not draw this, it's from a friend's art page. Deadmeat5150 fucked around with this message at 13:33 on Dec 25, 2014 |
# ? Dec 25, 2014 13:25 |
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# ? Apr 18, 2024 21:45 |
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Outrail posted:Hell yeah. I love this writing style. This is what I wanted to do! Besides, we need to learn if bleach isn't enough, so we need the cocoon. Science!
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# ? Dec 25, 2014 14:57 |
Lanky Coconut Tree posted:D.+ A Science! Yeah, okay, that works. Deadmeat5150 posted:Goddamn do you paint a pretty picture. I can see the nightmarish warren in my mind as Ohone races along the catwalk towards the massive vat. Not enough red. Nice drawing, though.
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# ? Dec 25, 2014 16:24 |
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I picture a butch, unattractive women with bits of metal and circuitry sticking out of her face.
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# ? Dec 25, 2014 19:36 |
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Lanky Coconut Tree posted:D.+ A Science! Uhhh yeah not taking chances with this xeno toxin, I doubt the built in cleaning function is gonna take care of it. Also if there are riots over food shortages we can use them to our advantage Pinche Rudo fucked around with this message at 20:34 on Dec 25, 2014 |
# ? Dec 25, 2014 20:26 |
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Lanky Coconut Tree posted:D.+ A Science!
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# ? Dec 25, 2014 20:36 |
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C, for heaven's sake people, killing it with fire is a perfectly accepted and highly regarded problem-solving solution right now. We just established a few updates ago we're not hereteks (or xenoteks in this case I guess) so why do we think screwing with the xeno toxin is a good idea
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 01:14 |
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Serpentis posted:C, for heaven's sake people, killing it with fire is a perfectly accepted and highly regarded problem-solving solution right now. We just established a few updates ago we're not hereteks (or xenoteks in this case I guess) so why do we think screwing with the xeno toxin is a good idea We have a secret science base lair. What ELSE do we research in there?
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 01:39 |
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Lanky Coconut Tree posted:We have a secret science base lair. What ELSE do we research in there? Xenotek heresies is a fine place to begin! a x x x b x x x x x x x x c x x d e d+a x x x x x d+b x x Guess Ill combine them, which gives me a/a+d x x x x x, x x x b/b+d x x x x x, x x x x x c x x Bleach and save cocoon, looks like. To the grindstone!
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 02:24 |
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Its not Heretek, its Science! Here at the center of things, there was a strange quiet to things, a strange pressure on the air. In the distance, you knew a warp creature was slaughtering dozens of your Family troops, your most loyal servants. Outside this chamber, you knew, tens of thousands of Dregs were trapped between rioting forces, Grey Guards crushing them with flame and sword. Outside of this chamber, the Magos and your Lord-Sire were cutting through hundreds of bodies, using vehicle mounted lascannons and power armor, trying to get to you in time. Here at the center of things, you heard none of that. There was sound, to be sure. The slow breathing of the machines, of a thousand pumps still cycling through their duties. The sweaty whispering of hydraulics, of thousands of liters of liquid being moved this way and that, filling reservoirs while the machines waited for the command to open the pipes again. You had stopped the tainted material from being distributed to the outside world, and now you had to finish the job. Here too, you could hear the chirping and hissing of the strange creatures that lived in the pipes and highwalks, an ecosystem that had been left isolated from the larger vastness of Between, one that had made adaptations unfamiliar even to the Tribes. Barely, in the distance, you thought you could hear the faint screams of the dying, but you couldn’t be sure. It could just as easily be your imagination, or some byproduct of the vast number of machines and fauna that lived here. Reaching out with your mind, you looked for machines that lay in wait for orders, obedient through the long centuries. They were old minds, and strange, kept to this chamber for all their lives. They perked up when they felt your approach, the soothing binary of the Tech-Priests, and seemed to watch you inquisitively. You transmitted authorization codes, commands, a will to obedience, and they shuffled out of the darkness, crawling out of pipes on their bellies. Woodhouse stepped back with a gasp at the sight of them, clutching his oversize handgun anxiously. They were monstrous hybrids, their top half human, their bottom half some variant of snake, ten feet long and wriggling. You weren’t sure if the flexing material was organic or cybernetic, but neither would surprise you. They wriggled up to you, bending upwards at the waist, watching you with unblinking black eyes. Making the sign of the Omnissiah, you gave them their orders. <There is an obstruction in the mixer. Bring it here, but do not let it touch the liquid.> They looked at you silently for a moment. Your squad watched them warily, fingers tapping their guns, before the servitors leapt forward with a sudden motion, going over the rim of the vat. Their tails stiffened into a bridge of metal and flesh, and a dozen of them had soon connected to each other, the metal clicking and snapping familiar to you. Two of them finally reached the cocoon, and began applying various salves and chemical sprays to it. They followed shortly after with scraper blades, peeling it off of the machinery, and slowly dragged it back, their synthetic muscles creaking at the strain. The cocoon was full of material - you only barely recognized the basic form of the Damork. It had been transformed, nearly 90% of its mass turned into the synthetic organs you had found in the bodies of the dead. They seeped a pus-like substance, leaving the cocoon in long strings, and your squad gave it wide berth, faces full of revulsion. With a gesture, you order an old pipe opened. It was an ad-hoc repair tunnel, sealed at least two centuries before, not connected to anything. The servitors moved the cocoon there and replaced the blockage. Looking sternly at your squad, you tell them, “This is a Tech-Priest matter, and will need to be investigated by the Magos alone. Say nothing when the Lord-Sire arrives.” They bow deeply at your orders, trusting you to the matters of xenotek. Speaking next to the servitors, you order them to delete those memories and forget the act of deletion. Then you tell them to take you to the cleansing units for the vats. Moving fluidly, a dozen of the snake servitors begin leaping along the catwalks, the platforms bending uneasily at the sudden changes in weight. Your squad chases them with difficulty, unable to match the agility of the creatures. Instead, they have to take the long route, watching the serpentine forms leap ahead. Finally, you arrive at a large pipe wheel. It overlooks the vat from a distance of dozens of meters, and the snake servitors have to scare away some of the local animals that had nested here. They squawk angrily and then take to the air, glaring at you for disturbing their rest. The wheel is huge, needing at least three people to turn it, and the nest is sloppily built over some of the handholds. At your command, a few members of your squad take position as snipers, and the rest begin turning the wheel. With great noise, the metal slowly turns, your troops grunting with the effort. In the distance, you can hear liquid moving through the pipes, and then overrunning the nutrient feeds. The bleach cleansers punch into the lake, the vat smoking and hissing angrily as the compound within seems to scream in anger as its dies. The steam rises out of the lake in caustic ugliness, making your troops choke and cover their faces. Distantly, you notice their eyes looking glassy, and some of them lean on the railing dizzily. Through the steam, you can hear the fauna grow quiet, and in the distance you can see the glimmer of beauty. How do you prepare the battlefield?
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 05:57 |
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Can we cleanse the beautiful warp horror with the strength of a giant bleach hose/cannon? Do that. And distract the thing by hurling Flours at its face. Edit:Also direct the snake servitors (snakitors) to lie on wait and ambush before/after depending on their resistance to a torrent of bleach. Outrail fucked around with this message at 07:49 on Dec 26, 2014 |
# ? Dec 26, 2014 07:46 |
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Don't we still need to void the contents of the vat (into vacuum, presumably)? Otherwise we're now feeding super-bleach to the population of the ship instead...
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 07:54 |
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Ralith posted:Don't we still need to void the contents of the vat (into vacuum, presumably)? Otherwise we're now feeding super-bleach to the population of the ship instead... First thing you did was shut down the external pipes, thats fine. It was running for however long before you got there, but there is no bleach going out now. And yes, the snakitors can handle bleach and most typical chemicals they encounter here.
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 08:08 |
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Excellent. Send the snakitors to engage our friend and then hose down the lot of them in every chemical this area can produce. Especially if any warning signs tell us not to mix a particular substance with anything else.
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 08:16 |
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Outrail posted:Excellent. Send the snakitors to engage our friend and then hose down the lot of them in every chemical this area can produce. Yes! We're in what's essentially a fine-tuned biochemical plant, let the ship be out weapon!
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 08:35 |
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Outrail posted:Especially if any warning signs tell us not to mix a particular substance with anything else. If there's any ammonia pipes, maybe we can mix with the bleach and make crystals.
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 08:45 |
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Don't forget to make fun of the Slaaneshi daemon for looking like a torn-up wad of gold foil and glitter, you've got to get your verbal hits in with your arch-nemesis.
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 09:07 |
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Prepare our men to fire at the platform the Warp creature is standing on when it reaches a platform vulnerable to collapse. Worst case scenario we buy our selves several hundred extra feet to shoot it.
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 11:03 |
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What've we got that can hit the daemon at range? Also we should set a guard on the cocoon, just in case. Preferably armed with flamers.
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 17:24 |
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VanSandman posted:What've we got that can hit the daemon at range? Also we should set a guard on the cocoon, just in case. Preferably armed with flamers. Rifles, shotguns, fireworks, pyrotechnics, and various pipes of chemicals.
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 17:29 |
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So.... shoot everything that has the range for it, without getting any closer. Shame we don't have any indirect fire yet, but I suppose mortars are just an upgrade away.
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 17:38 |
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Exploding pipes and tanks full of noxious chemicals are kind of indirect fire.
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 18:11 |
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Just went through a couple months worth of posts that had appeared while I was busy with other things, nice to see this is still alive. Hosing the thing with every available chemical while the snakitors pile on top of it sounds great.
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 18:41 |
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Waci posted:Just went through a couple months worth of posts that had appeared while I was busy with other things, nice to see this is still alive. Hosing the thing with every available chemical while the snakitors pile on top of it sounds great. Plan Chemical Snakes
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 20:01 |
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Good to have you back Waci! Words For a brief moment of clarity, you are struck by the flawless beauty of the situation. The symmetrical yet pleasingly off center platforms, wrapped around the vat like a lover. The chemical stream rising out of the lake, a caustic mix of super-heated bleach and protein. Your retinue of followers, standing uneasily against railings as they look below, staring apprehensively into the perfect light that was approaching. Above you, bird-like creatures floated lazily on the thermals rising from the processing floor, unconcerned with what was happening below. Flours was watching them with narrowed eyes, considering the likelihood of an aerial leap. Next to you, Megabite was sitting happily, relaxed, ready for what was to come. She was simply happy to be with you, as cyber mastiffs were. If you were to die here, today, it might be all right. You shook yourself. If was the Omnissiah Will, perhaps, but best to try to serve regardless. And in staying alive, serve longer. You looked over the makeshift arena with a practiced eye, noting chemical storage, pipes, hoses. All things that could be weapons, given the right mixture and conditions. Certain platforms that looked more stable than others, forcing a predictable pattern of movement. Yes, this could work. Reaching out with your will, the snakitors leap to obey, slithering all about the platforms. Moving tubes, twisting dials, shifting pipes. To your trained eye, the place had suddenly become ten times as dangerous, explosive compounds on the brink of mixing, large vats increasingly under pressure, chemical leaks scattered across a hundred meters of terrain. Good thing you were all the way up here, then, and the creature was down there. You could see it turn its head up at you, smiling. It was a small figure, almost diminutive, and you could see that the waves of troops you had pushed in its way had made an impact. Its flawless skin had been rent by beautiful wounds, elegant in their artistry, and the extensive burns it had were only healing slowly. You could see that it had been impaled by two power swords, and it favored one side as it walked. How lovely it was, then, when one of the pipes burst. With a chemical screech, the creature was inundated with a bleach bath. The material seared its skin, smoking with a hideous glamour, and it attempted to hobble out of the way. You noticed with a certain pleasure it had slowed down, almost human in speed. Which made it all the better when the ammonia bath erupted from the hoses above it, soaking its open wounds. The chemicals mixed ferociously, making a toxic cloud that attempted to rise against you. Fans in the vents turned on, the whirring deafening in the closed space, and the cloud rebounded onto the creature. You could barely see its glow within the fog, and you were willing to bet it wasn’t enjoying its holy cleansing. It was far from the Warp, here, and subject to more of the natural laws that bound all who knew the God-Emperor. There was a pause, a brief respite while everyone looked down below. The only sound was the liquid sloshing down into the now impassible walkways, and the glow within the cloud seemed dim, if not gone entirely. It was with a deep unhappiness, then, that you saw the creature break out of the fog and continue walking up the ramps. At least it wasn’t smiling anymore. You could see its gaze look about the arena, calculating the best route upwards, and what other possible traps you might have lain. Your retinue took the opportunity to open up with small arms fire, the rounds smashing into the creature with easy accuracy. It was relatively close, after all, and not trying to find cover. At first, at least. After a moment, it hissed, running for some respite, and your gunfire served only to keep it suppressed. It moved at a crouch, behind random debris that had fallen on the walkways, and sprinted to the next position unpredictably. Well, let’s make it work a bit. At your gesture, Jeb leans dangerously far over the railing, shouldering some terribly improved rocket launcher. It was more a tube and enthusiasm, but it served your purpose. The ad-hoc rocket propelled grenade arced across the chamber, detonating behind the cover the creature lay concealed behind. The walkway itself shattered under the blast wave, causing the creature to start its fall into the bleached nutrient vat below. Catlike, it shifted midair, kicking itself off the wall and to the next platform, its perfect arms reaching for the next rail with easy grace. Your snakitors took the chance to meet it mid-air, smashing it bodily into the debris above the rim. Some of them immediately wrapped the creature, constricting it’s movement, while others began smashing it with their tails with brutal efficiency. Knowing their resistance to the chemicals here, you shifted more of the pipes into the melee, pouring a mix of caustic and reactive liquids onto them. They mixed explosively, the acidic fire and smoke smashing pipes and vats all around the arena, causing secondary reactions. The fans fell from the vents and into the primary nutrient vat, jamming the blender blades with horrific noise, and the death fog rose up to meet you. Responding instinctively, you and your team ran for other platforms, away from the rising chemicals. You could see it was already having an impact on them - skin blistering, eyes red, several of the troops entering into coughing fits. You would have to wrap this up quickly, you were running out of resources. Thinking quickly, you grab Fluors, wait for the creature to come out of the fog. It was moving slow, now, the constricting tails having moved the swords into large gouging patterns. The holes in its body were comparable to the wounds of an anti-tank shell, and you shuddered to think you once saw it beautiful. It was all of the worst things, avarice without restraint, greed without understanding, lust without appreciation. It was Want. You could see the spasming and shattered bodies of the snakitors behind it. If you survived this, some might be repairable, but right now, you needed to finish what they had sacrificed for. As it scrambled up the last set of ladders, you threw Fluors at its face. Its surprised expression was worth all the gold in the ship. Fluors hissed furiously, her claws raking its face and neck, leaving long gouges. The God-Emperor must have been blessing you, because the creature’s regeneration seemed to have stopped entirely, and it flailed for a hold on the ledge as Fluors tore at its flesh. It reached out towards you with its mind, but its attraction was a meek and feeble thing. At the corner of your eye, you could see your retinue watching you, dozens of meters above the vat. At the corner of your eye, you could see your Lord-Sire. What do you do? A Shoot it in the face. You have a palm implant for just such an occasion. B Draw a power sword from its body and behead it. Plus, you get a new weapon! C Use the xeno artifact. Maybe put it in the wounds, the reaction should finish it off. D Kick it into the vat. The chemical mix down there could rip the ears off a gundark. E Something Else. Also, Will you tell Lord-Sire how to identify infected? 1 Yes. The fate of the ship is at stake. Woodhouse is a necessary sacrifice. 2 No. A random purge of the ship is worth keeping Woodhouse by your side. Bleh, words were not coming on this one today.
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 21:34 |
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B1 I thought this a fantastic update!
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 21:41 |
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1. A Don't show off. Just shoot it in the face. Although I have to say, it's hard to resist giving our villain a Hollywood style death (not to mention the convenient 'never found the body' for the sake of the story). 2. Yes - Woodhouse, I'm sorry, but you're not any different than the first Flours. We need to end this. Also, a random, unguided witch hunt would hurt our power base more than it would our hurt that of our biggest competitor.
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 21:47 |
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A1 Finish this then cleanse the ship. Also try to make sure not to hit our Cat-a-rang.
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 22:12 |
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A1 The enemy is never worth honor, and it's Woodhouse's fault he was born a servant.
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 22:22 |
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A1 Sorry Woodhouse, you should've stayed away from the smack.
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 22:34 |
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A1 I'm sure Woodhouse will understand the need to sacrifice himself for the glory of Imperium.
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 22:37 |
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A1.
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 22:39 |
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HiHo ChiRho posted:B1 I agree completely. Also, loot! B1
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 22:41 |
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e: changed first vote Ralith fucked around with this message at 23:01 on Dec 26, 2014 |
# ? Dec 26, 2014 22:53 |
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paragon1 posted:A1 Whoa, let's not get carried away here. Nobody needs to ask him.
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 22:57 |
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D1 Why would we not kick it into a vat of chemicals?
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 22:58 |
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Volmarias posted:D1
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 23:01 |
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Wentley posted:I agree completely. Also, loot! B1 Thank you both! A x x x x x, x x B x x C D x E A/D x 1 x x x x x, x x x x x 2 ...Hunh. That second vote is a lot more one sided than I expected. You are an unsentimental lot.
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 23:03 |
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B 1 and Ohone kills Woodhouse herself. Also would we gain anything by dissecting him?
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# ? Dec 26, 2014 23:04 |
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# ? Apr 18, 2024 21:45 |
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E - all of the above, in the listed order. No such thing as overkill with daemons. Tell the lord-sire how to identify the infection. Too bad about Woodhouse, but I'm sure he will agree it's better to die in the Emperor's light than to live outside it. We can do it ourselves or otherwise make whatever arrangements to make the inevitable less unpleasant and/or more respectful for him, but it needs to be done. Hell, we could even make a servo skull out of him in loving memory of his service.
Waci fucked around with this message at 23:09 on Dec 26, 2014 |
# ? Dec 26, 2014 23:06 |