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Yessss..... 
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Oct 27, 2015 00:00
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| # ? Apr 24, 2024 08:27 |
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Slice of Life: ??? Between the propaganda and sermon broadcasts that air constantly throughout the ship, performances by the Abrogate Choir of Saint Fabiyan The Resurrector are played. Abrogates wishing to see the performances live during their rest periods often travel many miles from their work and hab locations to the Cathedral. Witnessing such a performance has been measured to temporarily increase efficiency and resistance to deleterious psychological conditions. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jb4BIs2Vres
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Oct 27, 2015 00:14
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The Council “Any word?” Eleonora grimaced. “No. The Iron Maiden has bunkered down ever since we found her on Krieg. Dropped her off on Titan, dropped her off on Mars. No communication with the council, aside from that first meeting.” Amacita spoke. “Then we shall continue as we always have. Limosa, any expectations coming down the line?” Limosa chuckled painfully. “Even you non-psykers heard it. We’re going back to Golgotha.” “Immediately, or do we have time to prepare?” “Six months, a year. The entire Segmentum Solar is moving out. We have time.” Colonel Wolfgang nodded at Young Henderson, Heirophant Isaac. “We’re making good progress with the pilgrims we collected. They thought they were going to Terra, turns out they joined a death cult. For the God-Emperor, of course.” Amacita glanced over. “Suicide rates are escalating.” “Well within the margin of normal regimental accidents. It’s fine.” “Lukacs, how are things in the wilds?” “Madam, I’ve started enlisting more Explorers to replace the losses we’ve taken. Independent thinkers, solitary operators, people that don’t fit in with the Abrogates. We’ll start sending them into the marginal dangerous areas, put them through their paces.” “Excellent. Inquisition Edourd, anything on your end?” “Everything running smooth. No signs of heresy, mutants, or traitors anywhere aboard ship.” “Very good. We’ll continue waiting for the Iron Maiden to return from Mars, of course, but I want to begin plans for repairs at Luna.” A chorus of voices. “Yes Ma’am.” edit: Sister Katarina was also here, but didn't have any lines Loel fucked around with this message at 02:20 on Oct 27, 2015 |
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Oct 27, 2015 01:12
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KILLHER KILLHER KILLHER KILLHER KILLHER KILLHER KILLHER
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Oct 27, 2015 01:40
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Sarge’s Amacita smiled easily. “So I hear you are the one who actually runs things down here.” The Little Sire laughed self-deprecatingly. “Madam, I facilitate a bar.” “The primary bar for innovative thinkers and trouble makers.” “Such things might have been said from time to time.” “You are aware that the Iron Maiden is essentially AWOL?” He paused his drink in mid raise. “I’m sure she watches over us all.” “Certainly. But off-ship, off-world.” “What are you proposing?” His tone was cautious. “A continuation of the chain of command. We both know who are you down here. Let’s semi-formalize it, an alliance between us.” Little Sire looked at her expressionally. “Seems like a loyalty test.” “It is. Are you loyal to the chain of command? While the Iron Maiden isn’t here, who is the reigning Family member?” “You are. That is well known.” “So you understand what I am saying.” “Aye, I think I do.” They smiled at each other.
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Oct 27, 2015 01:54
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Stupidly Ambitious “Lady Amacita.” She turned, looked upwards. A huge hulking figure, the muscles and expertise of a deathworld. “Yes?” “I am the best fighter and leader aboard this ship. You need a bodyguard.” “I have the Greycloaks.” “That is the Family, not for you personally.” “And you are?” “Raul Oxenforth. I bring a cadre of Cadians. Give me a handful of Abrogates, and I will make your defenses impenetrable.” “And what makes you think I should trust you?” He gestured, showed a video clip. The Iron Maiden tasering him. “I think I can find better favor with you, then with someone else.” “You might be right, at that.”
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Oct 27, 2015 01:58
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Put her the gently caress down now. She's pulling a lovely Prince John.
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Oct 27, 2015 01:58
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Slice of Life: ????? "She's getting confident Double D," the grizzled former Cadian growled to one of his companions as the supposed Heir walked out of the bar. <Her time will come,> the mechanical voice murmured back, using the Cadian Battle Cant they all knew. The thick figure in the Commissar's Greatcoat sipped his drink. "Don't worry, guys, when the Iron Maiden returns in full she'll see this posturing for what it is." "What about the suicides?" the Guardsman asked. "What about them?" the Commissar replied, his attitude towards death as flippant as always. "It's a death cult, they expect to die. Maybe some of them believe they aren't dying fast enough." <A mistake, brother,> the soft mechanical voice of the hunched, red-robed shape said. "How so, Double D?" <They believe themselves to be machines. Machines in the service of the God-Emperor. Machines do not think, machines do not feel. Machines do choose to self-terminate.> The tall Guardsman drained his mug. "So you're saying that someone has to push the self-destruct. Someone is making them off themselves?" <Precisely.> The robed figure twitched and a pair of thin mechadendrites slithered out from one sleeve to wrap around a steaming mug of rich oil. <The Iron Maiden would certainly like to know who was pushing that button, wouldn't she?> The three men, best friends for nearly a century, grinned at each other and the prospect of making their Inquisitor pleased with them.
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Oct 27, 2015 02:05
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NO DON'T KILL AMACITA, SHES USEFUL! NO DON'T KILL AMACITA, WE AREN'T MONSTERS! NO DON'T KILL AMACITA, SHES LOYAL! 
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Oct 27, 2015 02:12
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Still calling that Amacita is a friend, in flagrant disbelief of the evidence before me. She is our friend!
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Oct 27, 2015 02:17
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Kill Her! Kill her now! Limosa, surely he knows when things are getting Chaotic!
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Oct 27, 2015 02:22
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Blam the gently caress out of amacita
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Oct 27, 2015 02:22
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The denizens of this thread are shaping the world around them with their distrust of Amacita. 
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Oct 27, 2015 02:23
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For the record, I voted to kill Amacita back when we had her unconscious during the Damork serum incident.
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Oct 27, 2015 02:24
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Arkanomen posted:NO DON'T KILL AMACITA, SHES USEFUL! There's really only one way to make sure of that. We should make Amacita into a secret servitor. That Krieg gear can hide a lot, yes? We can use her to ferret out other disloyal elements, undo whatever conditioning she's put the Abrogates through, and have a trustworthy regent during our absences.
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Oct 27, 2015 02:51
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Lord Cyrahzax posted:There's really only one way to make sure of that. True, but we can also just kill Amacita and make a servitor look like her and avoid Amacita being involved at all.
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Oct 27, 2015 02:56
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I thought that the point of servitors was making it painfully clear that they're no longer human, but still technically alive and possibly a part of them is conscious and screaming. Can you even make servitors not look like servitors? Anyhoo, gently caress it, may as well just kill her now so that when she turns into a Nurgle daemonhost we can say we tried.
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Oct 27, 2015 03:05
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Slice of Life: The Littlesire's Bargain Fredrik di Muzio II sat morosely towards the rear of Sarge's, reading a pulp serial as he pondered. "Distasteful", that's the word that was circling around his head. He found it distasteful to be forced into positions like this. It was one thing if it was the Iron Maiden. She was the dynastic owner of this ship, and she was powerful. Most importantly, she was still alive. It behooved him to be loyal to her. But now Amacita was making some half-assed power play, and she had come to him, requested his... support. As if he didn't know what that meant. What could he do BUT accept? If he declined, she'd bring her Abrogates and come down on him and his 'hive of innovators and troublemakers' like a Thunder Hammer. That would be a messy battle with a lot of casualties, one she'd pay for, but there was no doubt: he wouldn't be on the winning side. The Littlesire wasn't in the business of making suicidal moral stands. No, he was in the business of business, and dying was definitely bad for business. And that meant he had to play along. That didn't mean he had to eagerly collaborate, though. Amacita didn't seem to know about the extensive intelligence dossiers he held on half the ship. Well, to clarify, she knew about them, she just didn't know how extensive they were. So he'd drip feed her, give her the tidbits of information she asked for without going above and beyond. And, of course, he had to prepare for when things would come back on her, and make sure he was in the clear when that happened. The updated dossier he had on Amacita, and the things she was up to around the ship as of late, would definitely be of interest to the Iron Maiden, he was confident about that. JT Jag fucked around with this message at 05:00 on Oct 27, 2015 |
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Oct 27, 2015 03:10
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Oct 27, 2015 03:12
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Thank you JT Jag for covering the thread's meta knowledge and reasoning for killing this stain.
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Oct 27, 2015 03:14
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Just watching the thread implode as consequences rear their heads is amazingly entertaining. Everything is fiiiiiine.
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Oct 27, 2015 03:14
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Ysengrin posted:Just watching the thread implode as consequences rear their heads is amazingly entertaining. 
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Oct 27, 2015 03:15
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Oct 27, 2015 03:15
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Where everybody knows your name! And keeps it to themselves.
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Oct 27, 2015 04:05
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Travis Wrent log 002 I'm down another deck, maybe up two. I'm not keeping track anymore. All the bulkheads look the same, even the ones that cut through each other. Warped matter tends to act out in strange ways. The way the walls moaned in ecstasy, I decided it best to take a detour. The servoskull cut away at the hatch, opening into one of the more familiar vertical service shafts. The spirit in the box had pointed me downwards, so down I went. If this is found, please forgive my liberation of one of the armored NBC carapace suits, along with the ration packs, a small laspistol and a number of charge packs, several fragmentation mines, a 3lb block of plastic explosive and one very lonely looking melta bomb. My pack is rather heavy. Let's call it penance for my infraction and the additional paperwork on the quartermaster. I know how SLUDGE is the favored paint of the Iron Maiden, so on my suit went. I descended the rather dilapidated ladder into the dark. A servo skull provided some illumination, but most of the ambient light came from the thick fungus that coated the walls. Only the patches near me glowed in this eeire blue light. The ladder was encrusted with some organic filth. Praise the Mechanicus for the quality of their work. Something rumbled below. Fearing structural collapse, I stopped at the next access port ordered the servo to being cutting open my escape. The rumbling grew louder as the sound of wet meat being slapped against metal began to rise from the depths of the pit while a cacophony of animal screams accompanied. The bulk rose into the light and I began to vomit, not from the horrid stench nor the sight of a myriad of faces, organs and bones from too many species to count churning in some mockery of a single human face. I lost my control from the sheer immensity of the mind. It was if the entire ship began to speak as one, but in every language in the galaxy. It was not easy to withstand but I have been trained well. Do you know what it is like when the Black Ships frost collect you? Ask any Psyker who was taken by those glorified slave barges. Hundreds of souls, all confused, panicked and suffering, stuffed into a hold that even a penal legion would find barbaric. All those minds, usually young children, have some potential, so they pump a suppressant into the hold, along with sedatives and other chems. The subconscious knows it is suffering and instinctively reaches out to those around it. Some ancient relic of early man. What do they say, "Misery loves company"? Sanctioned Psykers call it the first test. Most do not survive that muddying of minds and collective suffering. When they talk of those that go to serve the throne, most are catatonic or in comas. It's a mercy really. Those, such as myself, that walk off the ship then enter a new kind of hell. The point is, hive minds are not new to the psychically sensitive. When the Shadow over the warp makes the astropaths shake in fear, or the Tyranid makes the Librarian flinch, it's that memory of the black ship, the loss of ego dissolving into suffering that they remember. That is why, when this creature spoke, I was not swept away as I listened. It's mind was a unity of peace and compassion, despite the chaos of its flesh. Sensing my distress it spoke to the fungus to hide its light and the beast dissolved away into the dark. It spoke to me, of its past and the future. The heretic Magos, the one responsible for the Screamers, used to make little pets. She would find some new DNA strand and a nice little squig and mash them together to create novelties of flesh. Most times these hideous things would emerge wrong or be too nasty to entertain research. So instead of applying the Emperors Mercy, she would toss the creature into the pit. Before the mind was, the forsaken would fight and kill and eat in a constant swirling mass of cannibalistic fervor. All the various experiments and chemicals created an unending orgy of consumption, reproduction and death. Then one day it stopped. Maybe it ate enough humans to gain a conscience, but the mass decided that peace and cooperation was better than the violence it knew. It wanted to offer me that peace. It spoke of the past horrors, the darkness, the purges, even of the tragedy and betrayal to come and the evil down below. I was already out the hatch and down the hall before it felt the det-packs impact it's abhorrent flesh. I would like to say that I killed whatever lurks in that pit. That I ended a potential problem before it caused any issues, something I hope our dear Iron Maiden is attending to. There was a great scream and a gout of blood as I squeezed the detonator, but something like that just doesn't die easily. It made me wonder why it was allowed to persist in the first place. The Lordsire purged all of the Magos' heresy. Who saw to it that this thing was passed over. I might be over-thinking this. Damned creature gave me a pleasant migraine along with its pitiful offer. I'm heading engine-ward for now. The official maps have that pit identified, I would send in a purge team before the retrofit. Little Addie, if you're still following me, avoid the fungus in that section. It seemed rather aggressive after my rejection. Take the hatch a few hundred meters away. It bypasses that creatures lair. Some exposed conduits but with your background it shouldn't be too much of a hassle. Until next time -Travis Wrent
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Oct 27, 2015 04:26
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Deadmeat5150 posted:KILLHER KILLHER KILLHER KILLHER KILLHER KILLHER KILLHER Could you and the others that keep doing it please knock it off? Lowell already promised a vote on this, so repeating this gets annoying as gently caress quickly.
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Oct 27, 2015 07:09
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sheep-dodger posted:Could you and the others that keep doing it please knock it off? Once we finish this little side quest, we can discuss what to do about Maria 
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Oct 27, 2015 07:14
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sheep-dodger posted:Could you and the others that keep doing it please knock it off? No. Amacita needs to die. She is nuke 2.0 and they CYOAs are here we gotta scream.
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Oct 27, 2015 07:16
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I remain staunchly in favor of Plan Cakebake. 
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Oct 27, 2015 07:22
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Deep Mars Whatever life was down here, it sure wasn’t human. The air itself was toxic, fueled by hundreds of centuries of factory work and hive cities, and it was only your sensors that you were able to pierce the gloom. It was unclear if a battle had happened here (or multiple), or if this was just the debris and trash-pile from half a world. You were now stepping through old buildings, prototype Titans, bent and twisted scrap metal. It wa the moments of normalcy that made the rest so bizarre. Skittering and chittering forms of life, eyes glowing in the discoloured air. They flew and swooped and devoured each other, and you felt the uneasy ozone smell of the Enemy. Although, it could have just been the deeply polluted atmosphere. You had been on several hive and forge worlds, but had never seen anything like this. As you walked aimlessly, debris ten meters high being pushed by your musculature, you noticed an area less damaged than the others. It had the feel of a memorial, or diorama of some sort, although you didn’t recognize the event depicted. Or any of the archaeo-tech, for that matter. Still, there was a sense of …. something to it, that it had lasted this long, under these conditions. 
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Oct 27, 2015 07:23
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This may or may not be related to the current Amacita issue, but I was just thinking: can anyone remember if we've closed the 'you can stop her here' time loop yet?
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Oct 27, 2015 07:25
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Rahul posted:This may or may not be related to the current Amacita issue, but I was just thinking: can anyone remember if we've closed the 'you can stop her here' time loop yet? Almost. Its coming up soon.
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Oct 27, 2015 07:26
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LowellDND posted:Almost. Its coming up soon. Or maybe it's already happened 
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Oct 27, 2015 07:29
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Looks like the storming of the Winter Palace...with robots, for some reason. Anyone care to speculate on any potential meaning behind that?
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Oct 27, 2015 07:32
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There was a massive revolt on Mars iirc. Maybe this is where the men of Iron turned against the men of Gold.
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Oct 27, 2015 07:47
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Okay, maybe Amacita's cake can have a little bit of SLUDGE in it.
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Oct 27, 2015 08:48
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sheep-dodger posted:Could you and the others that keep doing it please knock it off? No, gently caress you. t 
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Oct 27, 2015 09:41
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Ich tu dir weh Odd. You could feel rumbling, a small earthquake. Richter Five maybe? The memorial was showing little ill-effect, but the ruins around you were shaking in on themselves. You thought that if you were just in your Lord-Sire armor, you would be falling over, but the Titan suit granted you some laudable dexterity. There was …. something. Right at the edge of your senses, flickering through Athena’s sensor suite like a ghost. You looked around you, slowly, cautious. Your fingers itched, even as your breathing slowed. You knew you were being watched. Another rumble, another earthquake. The ground trembled. In the sky, you thought you could see land plates slowly colliding. You shifted stances, locations. A seventy five meter Titan wasn’t the most stealthy thing in the world, but it could be surprisingly sneaky. You wouldn’t go so far as to say you were invisible, but you blended into the shadows well. Carefully, you turned off your sonics, reducing the fear effect you had been generating. Ah. In the gap ahead, a chasm hundreds of meters across. You felt another brief earthquake at it’s step, even as the creature climbed out of the core’s maw. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y94fmXHwKeg
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Oct 27, 2015 10:01
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Plan exchange the Abrogates and Amacita for as many servitors as we can.
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Oct 27, 2015 10:10
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| # ? Apr 24, 2024 08:27 |
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Jump into its mouth and shoot our way out from the inside
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Oct 27, 2015 10:16
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