The Galaxy is Flood, Not Food
- Thread starter Jackson Fox
- Start date
- Crossover Sci-Fi Horror
Yeah, Tide wasn't in the mood for a conversation with him.
- Location
- Missouri
So, two questions.
First: Is this canon?
Second: Did Tide introduce Halloween just to fuck with Ahsael more, or is it more of a happy side effect?
Last edited:
First: It's as canon as you want it to be.
Second: Halloween being introduced was largely to introduce people to the idea of festivals beyond what normally occurs and to incentivize community building independent of any larger organizations like the Administratum. The costumes was to encourage expression and individuality. The flower addition was wholly to fuck with Ahsael.
Sooo ide the space hulk impat 20+ hours star rode not big enough for entier hulk haw it target individual ships shug them avay enough to not get caught in gravety pull loads of semi intackt ships to study/salvage/research if the star road envloping a ship dosent sever it frome the hulk or if they think hawing it tearing a ship of cause to mutch damage to salvage haw minions on board sever veld/fjusing points allso destroye active enginering give more time allso if engines destroyd and enough biomass could make some kind of organice thrusters to slove down and buy time but Will loss the option for severing ships from hulk on the inside veld/fjusing points.
Last edited:
Umm… punctuation please? I'm going to also assume that english is not your first language.
Nop REALY good at speking and reading but writing whit out a proper spellcheack is a night mare booth native and english dosent help pads aoutocorect is shit enough for me to notice
Chapter 69 - Death From Above
Day 69, Continued
Is Chaos going to try and blow up the planet every time I beat them?
Tide couldn't help but find the gesture petty in the extreme. The Star Road flashed into existence, spreading out into thin wires and pressing against the portion of the space hulk facing Monstrum's surface. It was not enough to stop the decay, as if he had the Star Road exert itself in any real way it would just destroy the hulk rather than slow or stop it. While the loss of technology and industry within the hulk was hardly a deadly blow to his operations, what could be such a blow would be the eruption of countless semi-functional generators on par in power with the Gallow's Eye, if not far exceeding that.
However, using the Star Road this way would give him more time. He'd already made the calculation regarding how long he had, just under a day, but the Star Road's assistance pushed that back by another hour. If he could get control of even a few of the engines, he'd stand a chance of either restabilizing the hulk or removing it from Monstrum's gravity well entirely by preference.
The light of Neural Transit filled the space hulk as hundreds of biopods, like hatching eggs to be consumed and repurposed by the critters inside them, flashed back into existence throughout its many corridors. Countless tendrils plunged into data ports and consoles, connecting his mind to the myriad of vessels throughout the space hulk, even as his army of Flood-Tech forms rushed ever deeper towards the unmapped core. And it was then that he felt it, like a serpent coiling around his leg.
Do you think you can stop this, Interloper?
The voice was communicated in binaric, the Lingua-Technis of the Machine Cult and the basic language of all mankind's machinery. But this was no artificial intelligence. He could tell for a number of reasons, but mainly for the fact that daemons left a stench behind them in their technology. It wasn't something Tide could really describe to someone without an understanding of Neural Physics, but a portion of their power was left behind once they departed a device. Those daemon engines he had destroyed at Ate and recovered for study within his Domain had each had such a stench. This one was thick with it and even being in direct communication with it was repugnant.
You are a fool if you believe anything of the Materium or outside it can confound the efforts of the Dark Prince's favored scions.
'Favored scions'? You're stuck in a pile of scrap metal, how 'favored' can you be?
Tide's taunt sent a shudder of fury through the myriad systems of the amalgamated vessels and he leapt upon the opportunity. Several of the space hulk's composite vessels suddenly quieted as their systems were forcibly shut down, killing the engines and further reducing the speed at which the hulk was travelling towards its doom, while those in position to further slow the descent suddenly ignited with fresh power. The daemon's anger was clear to feel with the binaric equivalent of a snarl.
It matters not if you stop the flames, the world below will still burn and crack. I will fashion a new army here, of daemon flesh and vile engine. These stars will dance to the delight of the Lord of Excess.
Several systems were suddenly assaulted by the daemon and Tide was surprised to find his efforts curtailed. He was nearly locked out, but the swift rededication of additional mental power managed to save his presence within those system and begin to push the attack back, but the fact that the daemon could contest with him at all was… concerning.
Tell me, daemon, do you believe that I will let you win even if you do succeed?
You have fought only the weakest of the Neverborn, but you will learn to quail in fear before the mightiest of the gods' servants.
I'll rip you apart, like all the others.
The voice laughed and another series of rapid attacks suddenly had the engines he'd shut down burst back into life. However, Tide had been prepared for the assault and countered with one of his own, capturing several systems and silencing them in a trade that he had calculated would benefit only him. As those engines fell silent, the ones reactivated by the daemon pushed the space hulk into a spin rather than continuing to push it further towards the planet below. The Star Road became like a myriad of serpents, slithering along the surface of the space hulk to always be pushing against it without slowing the rotation. There was another snarl of rage as the time to impact was delayed again and the game changed.
Now, if the daemon wanted to keep Tide from using the engines to push the space hulk away from Monstrum or to continue the push downwards, it would have to continuously maintain control of the engines and deactivate them when the rotation would cause them to counteract its efforts. The same was true for Tide, but of the two of them, he was fairly certain he was the better multitasker.
Wretch! I will not allow you to stop my ascension!
There was a burst of Empyric power along the systems of the ship and Tide suddenly found his presence shoved backwards, as if by a sudden increase in pressure as the daemon's power grew. Power surges disintegrated hundreds of his connected tendrils and more engines flared to life, accelerating the turn but also pushing the hulk down further towards the world below. Tide fought back, but the daemon had managed to lock him out of the systems of several ships. His Flood forms focused on those areas, ripping apart the internals systems in an effort to cut the flow of power to the engines, but many of the vessels were of unfamiliar if not alien designs, with some not even having a recognizable power core for him to deactivate. Worse still, an imperial vessel whose reactor he'd managed to shut down entirely still had its engines burning, in complete defiance of the lack of power, which he could only assume to be the daemon's doing through some Warp-craft.
Tide made another calculation and an instant decision. The Star Road vanished from the hulk's surface, disappearing down below to the surface, where it flashed across the surface of Monstrum, wrapping around and depositing civilians into the Domain, where he could safeguard them in case of failure. The Star Road's speed was limitless, but it was shackled by how fast he could guide it, limiting it to mere thousands being gathered by the second. While many, it was not nearly enough to save the entire population before impact.
You care for mortals?
There was a rumble of amusement through the ship, but no lapse in focus that he could take advantage of this time.
They will burn with you. I may not be able to harvest their souls by whatever trickery you possess, but they will still die in agony.
More and more of Tide's bioforms appeared in the space hulk's core, ripping towards the vessel within, only for the daemon's own countermeasures to halt that advance. It seemed that not all the daemon engines had been sent to the surface and the ones that had remained were of an unfamiliar variety.
The monstrosities were skeletal and humanoid, but the height of a dreadnought, covered in spines of bone and twisted metal, with soft flesh merging with machine under the joints almost like armor that bit and chewed to maintain its grip on the bodies. Their eyes burned with pink Warp-flame and they howled with delight as they fell upon his Flood forms, slashing them apart with crackling lightning claws or vaporizing them with strange projectile launchers that threw containers that shattered on impact, splattering his Flood forms with some kind of acid or venom that ate through their flesh and bone with unnatural swiftness. In response, the Flood forms grew plates of armor to defend themselves, providing little defense against the claws, but falling away when splashed with acid to avoid a more devastating effect and able to be swiftly replaced. Nonetheless, his advance was being pushed back as more and more of the daemon engines appeared at chokepoints.
My only regret is that so few of them will see their doom approaching as it burns down through the sky and cracks their planet open.
Do you always talk this much?
There was another growl and the engines burned with even greater power, only to suddenly recede again, though only by a little. Tide did not fail to notice that. There was a limit to how much the daemon could or was willing to force the issue. He just had to find and surpass that limit, but his efforts were all being blocked.
Could he fire on the space hulk? No, the rupturing of too many power cores could devastate the planet just as easily as the crash. He didn't have the biomass to wrap around the space hulk and use Neural Transit to send it away either and the Star Road certainly wasn't large enough.
I can feel your fear, Interloper. You truly are an amateur at this kind of game.
It was Tide's turn to snarl and he redirected his efforts in an attempt to gain control of the engines again, but his efforts were easily repelled.
I must say, I'm somewhat disappointed. I'd thought you would be a challenge, but it seems you have the technical knowledge of an Ork.
Tide's assault paused, focusing for a moment on simply warding off the attacks of the daemon.
I must say, you have a fragile ego if so base an insult reached you.
The daemon laughed, but it was cut-off by a sensation unfamiliar to it.
Tide was laughing as well.
And he was laughing at the daemon.
"OY, YOU LOT!" Warboss Bonesmasha Skraplotta roared, causing the ears of a nearby snotling to pop from the sheer level of noise. One might have thought his voice amplified by the Deff Dread that contained him and one would be wrong as he was simply that loud. Every Ork in the camp, nearly five thousand in all, turned to look at Bonesmasha, naturally assuming they were the ones who had been spoken too. In truth, he was only really speaking to a pair of Ork Mekboys that were currently resting next to a half-finished Killa Kan, the half-entombed gretchin within screaming angrily and in pain. "GET BACK TA WORK!"
The Mekboys nodded rapidly and quickly continued the entombment process, much to the fury of the half-mad gretchin. Bonesmasha continued on through the camp, looking this way and that for a new target to yell at. There were plenty to choose from, but a Warboss had to be selective when it came to discipline. Well, not really, but he chose to be and he was the Warboss, so what he said was true.
He soon found his next target on the edge of the camp. The Ork Boy was a sentry, staring off into the black desert that surrounded the ruined Rok he had chosen to be his headquarters, in that he had split the heads of several disobedient Orks into four pieces there. The Ork Boy was technically doing his job, but he looked like he was bored, which was unacceptable to Bonesmasha' half-mad mind. The fact that the Boy did not hear the loud, mechanical stomping of Bonesmasha's approach also indicated a lack of attention given to his task.
Bonesmasha towered over the Ork, who seemed fixated on the desert and entirely unaware of his presence until a large, mechanical klaw snapped around the Boy's torso, lifting him up suddenly into the air with a yelp and turning him around to face the Deff Dread that Bonesmasha had been interred in.
"WHAT ARE YOU ZOGGIN LOOKIN' AT!?!" Bonesmasha roared, loud enough that the Ork in his grasp writhed in pain and slammed his hands over his ears hard enough to bruise even an Ork's tough skin.
"Dere's-!" The Ork paused, perhaps surprised he couldn't hear his own voice, and he continued again in a far louder voice. "DERE'S SOMETIN OUT DERE, BOSS!"
"DON'T YOU YELL AT ME, YA GIT!" Bonesmasha yelled in rage. The Ork swiftly shook his head, a look of plain terror on his face.
"NO! I mean, no, Boss, I just couldn't hear myself-!" The Ork's words turned into a yelp as he was tossed away by Bonesmasha, who had lost interest in the excuse and turned to look out at something in the desert that had caught his attention. The Ork landed in a pile of limbs in front of him and quickly scrambled out of the way to avoid being crushed as Bonesmasha stomped towards an approaching figure. It looked humanoid, but not quite human. And it was quite tall as well and… leafy.
Several other Orks stopped what they were doing as their Warboss marched out of the camp, some following his gaze to see the interloper. Word quickly spread and soon the entire mob of Orks was following their Boss.
Bonesmasha and the figure drew closer and he saw it looked like a tree. He had never seen a tree himself, it was simply something he knew inherently as a source of fuel and, occasionally, a source of material for shoddier types of weapons. Yet, he was fairly certain that trees did not walk atop two legs, nor did they carry greatswords made of some razor sharp, bark-covered material.
The figure halted around fifty paces away from Bonesmasha, who halted in turn. It was tall, taller than him in his Deff Dread even if one counted the odd, canopy-like crown of leaves and branches that sprouted from its head. Its bark-like shell was bone white, a stark contrast to the fiery red of its leaves. Embedded in where a face would be were four gemstone-like eyes that Bonesmasha had the sudden thought would look excellent as a decoration for his Deff Dread.
"Oy," Bonesmasha said in a lower voice. "Gimme yer eyes."
"Pass," Came the reply, though where the voice had emerged from the unknown alien was difficult to say. "I come with an offer."
"Don't care," Bonesmasha said, his voice growing darker with anger. He leveled a klaw towards the alien. "Want yer eyes."
"And here I thought Orks wanted a fight. Though, if you're scared of fighting me alone…" The alien said, sounding entirely unimpressed. Within the confinement of the Deff Dread, Bonesmasha's ragged and dessicated lips widened in a grin that split them open and had blood dribble down his chin.
"YOU?" He asked, laughing with the sound of static. "YOU WANNA FIGHT ME, TRUNKIE?!?"
His amusement had the rest of the Orks join in and the desert of ash was soon filled with mocking laughs, taunts, and jeers. The alien raised the blade, pointing it towards the Ork Warboss. When it spoke, its voice was as deep as thunder and rumbled over the mob.
"GIT."
The entire mob went dead quiet in an instant. Bonesmasha was silent as a tomb, staring out at the alien. When he spoke, it was in a harsh whisper directed to the Orks around him.
"Stay outta dis."
Bonesmasha stomped forwards, rising to his full height, though only coming up to the trunkie's shoulder. He had recently exchanged the shootas and kannons of his Deff Dread for power klaws and buzzsaws, as he'd felt like eviscerating a few unruly Orks who'd said the only reason he was in charge was because he had the biggest shootas. It was true, but he'd still enjoyed ripping them apart.
Now, those weapons activated, crackling into life with a high-pitched whir as jagged teeth cut through the air. The trunkie took its own stance, holding its blade up in a duelist's challenge towards the approaching Deff Dread, who advanced with buzzsaws extended, whirring death held in front, while power klaws snipped eagerly from the sides.
Bonesmasha let out a cry of delight as the trunkie's sword swung downwards towards him, meeting its blade with his buzzsaws, which chewed against the bark, yet had a tough time doing more than scratching its surface. They broke away from each other and Bonesmasha attached with the saws, swinging downwards towards the shoulders of the trunkie, only for his own attack to be intercepted by the blade.
The power klaws thrusted forward then, reaching out to try and snap off the legs of the xenos, only for said legs to flex and push off the ground with inhuman strength, carrying the trunkie up out of the reach of Bonesmasha's klaws and then fully over and behind the Deff Dread, landing with a loud thud.
Bonesmasha whirled around into a diagonal slash with all four of his weapons, but each blow was weathered by the blade that almost certainly wasn't wood. He swung one buzzsaw towards the head of the trunkie, but it ducked and he was only able to cut through a few of the branches atop its head.
His arms were a whirl of mechanical motion, striking and snapping and whirring and biting, yet each attack was either evaded or blocked. Increasingly frustrated, Bonesmasha put more and more strength into each blow.
That was what his foe had been waiting for.
A buzzsaw sliced forwards towards the trunkie's chest, only for it to sidestep the attack and bring its blade up in a slash that cut off the thin wrist of the saw. The whirring blade fell to the ground, bouncing, its spin sending it rocketing off to the side where a grot who had gotten too close cried out loudly as it took off a few toes.
Bonesmasha stared at the missing end of his limb, then roared furiously, redoubling his attacks again, then again, continuously pushing the trunkie back, yet not making any headway. In an attempt to deal with that blade, Bonesmasha targeted it instead, yet the movements of this strange creature were simply too illusive.
Frustration coming to new heights, Bonesmasha roared again and brought its klaw downwards in an attempt to bash whatever passed for the trunkie's skull in, only for it to catch against the blade, which slid down the klaw and once more snipped off the thin wrist. The klaw thudded to the ground, but Bonesmasha didn't care and used the still-functioning arm to attack anyways, slamming it into the head of the trunkie, grinning as he felt the bark crunch under the blow and the creature stumbled back, seemingly disorientated.
Bonesmasha charged forward, eager to take advantage of the momentary weakness, but that too had been a ploy. The blade came up in a slash that he was barely able to twist out of, still sacrificing his left pair of limbs at the shoulder rather than his life. Bonesmasha roared furiously, lashing out again, but he was starting to realize he might not win this fight.
His remaining intact limb, a power klaw, bit through the air, angling for the trunkie's sword arm. Bonesmasha got in close, but the trunkie was too fast and leapt back again, before bringing the sword down, but the Warboss was fast enough to intercept it. Bonesmasha roared triumphantly as his klaw closed around the blade and, with vicious glee, snapped it in two.
But all that did was free the grip he had on the creature. It brought the sword-turned-dagger down in an arc that cut through the remaining arms Bonesmasha had, severing them as well from his body and leaving him with only his legs and torso intact. Then, with almost disrespectful casualness, the trunkie lifted one leg and delivered a powerful kick to the top of the Deff Dread. It toppled and could not get up again no matter how much Bonesmasha struggled.
The trunkie stepped forward, planting one leg atop the struggling Warboss and lifting the broken blade up above his crown of leaves. The orks roared angrily, preparing to charge in themselves and join the fray, but were cut off by the sound of a thunderous voice.
"I OFFER YOU THE BEST FIGHT OF YOUR LIVES!" The trunkie boomed, and its voice seemed to come from all across the ashen sea as well, from beyond the dunes that they could see, rolling across the air like a stormfront. The orks paused, temporarily frozen from shock and fear, but they listened as well. "IN EXCHANGE FOR A SINGLE SERVICE, I WILL GIVE YOU WAR EVERLASTING!"
The orks glanced at each other, uncertain.
Is Chaos going to try and blow up the planet every time I beat them?
Tide couldn't help but find the gesture petty in the extreme. The Star Road flashed into existence, spreading out into thin wires and pressing against the portion of the space hulk facing Monstrum's surface. It was not enough to stop the decay, as if he had the Star Road exert itself in any real way it would just destroy the hulk rather than slow or stop it. While the loss of technology and industry within the hulk was hardly a deadly blow to his operations, what could be such a blow would be the eruption of countless semi-functional generators on par in power with the Gallow's Eye, if not far exceeding that.
However, using the Star Road this way would give him more time. He'd already made the calculation regarding how long he had, just under a day, but the Star Road's assistance pushed that back by another hour. If he could get control of even a few of the engines, he'd stand a chance of either restabilizing the hulk or removing it from Monstrum's gravity well entirely by preference.
The light of Neural Transit filled the space hulk as hundreds of biopods, like hatching eggs to be consumed and repurposed by the critters inside them, flashed back into existence throughout its many corridors. Countless tendrils plunged into data ports and consoles, connecting his mind to the myriad of vessels throughout the space hulk, even as his army of Flood-Tech forms rushed ever deeper towards the unmapped core. And it was then that he felt it, like a serpent coiling around his leg.
Do you think you can stop this, Interloper?
The voice was communicated in binaric, the Lingua-Technis of the Machine Cult and the basic language of all mankind's machinery. But this was no artificial intelligence. He could tell for a number of reasons, but mainly for the fact that daemons left a stench behind them in their technology. It wasn't something Tide could really describe to someone without an understanding of Neural Physics, but a portion of their power was left behind once they departed a device. Those daemon engines he had destroyed at Ate and recovered for study within his Domain had each had such a stench. This one was thick with it and even being in direct communication with it was repugnant.
You are a fool if you believe anything of the Materium or outside it can confound the efforts of the Dark Prince's favored scions.
'Favored scions'? You're stuck in a pile of scrap metal, how 'favored' can you be?
Tide's taunt sent a shudder of fury through the myriad systems of the amalgamated vessels and he leapt upon the opportunity. Several of the space hulk's composite vessels suddenly quieted as their systems were forcibly shut down, killing the engines and further reducing the speed at which the hulk was travelling towards its doom, while those in position to further slow the descent suddenly ignited with fresh power. The daemon's anger was clear to feel with the binaric equivalent of a snarl.
It matters not if you stop the flames, the world below will still burn and crack. I will fashion a new army here, of daemon flesh and vile engine. These stars will dance to the delight of the Lord of Excess.
Several systems were suddenly assaulted by the daemon and Tide was surprised to find his efforts curtailed. He was nearly locked out, but the swift rededication of additional mental power managed to save his presence within those system and begin to push the attack back, but the fact that the daemon could contest with him at all was… concerning.
Tell me, daemon, do you believe that I will let you win even if you do succeed?
You have fought only the weakest of the Neverborn, but you will learn to quail in fear before the mightiest of the gods' servants.
I'll rip you apart, like all the others.
The voice laughed and another series of rapid attacks suddenly had the engines he'd shut down burst back into life. However, Tide had been prepared for the assault and countered with one of his own, capturing several systems and silencing them in a trade that he had calculated would benefit only him. As those engines fell silent, the ones reactivated by the daemon pushed the space hulk into a spin rather than continuing to push it further towards the planet below. The Star Road became like a myriad of serpents, slithering along the surface of the space hulk to always be pushing against it without slowing the rotation. There was another snarl of rage as the time to impact was delayed again and the game changed.
Now, if the daemon wanted to keep Tide from using the engines to push the space hulk away from Monstrum or to continue the push downwards, it would have to continuously maintain control of the engines and deactivate them when the rotation would cause them to counteract its efforts. The same was true for Tide, but of the two of them, he was fairly certain he was the better multitasker.
Wretch! I will not allow you to stop my ascension!
There was a burst of Empyric power along the systems of the ship and Tide suddenly found his presence shoved backwards, as if by a sudden increase in pressure as the daemon's power grew. Power surges disintegrated hundreds of his connected tendrils and more engines flared to life, accelerating the turn but also pushing the hulk down further towards the world below. Tide fought back, but the daemon had managed to lock him out of the systems of several ships. His Flood forms focused on those areas, ripping apart the internals systems in an effort to cut the flow of power to the engines, but many of the vessels were of unfamiliar if not alien designs, with some not even having a recognizable power core for him to deactivate. Worse still, an imperial vessel whose reactor he'd managed to shut down entirely still had its engines burning, in complete defiance of the lack of power, which he could only assume to be the daemon's doing through some Warp-craft.
Tide made another calculation and an instant decision. The Star Road vanished from the hulk's surface, disappearing down below to the surface, where it flashed across the surface of Monstrum, wrapping around and depositing civilians into the Domain, where he could safeguard them in case of failure. The Star Road's speed was limitless, but it was shackled by how fast he could guide it, limiting it to mere thousands being gathered by the second. While many, it was not nearly enough to save the entire population before impact.
You care for mortals?
There was a rumble of amusement through the ship, but no lapse in focus that he could take advantage of this time.
They will burn with you. I may not be able to harvest their souls by whatever trickery you possess, but they will still die in agony.
More and more of Tide's bioforms appeared in the space hulk's core, ripping towards the vessel within, only for the daemon's own countermeasures to halt that advance. It seemed that not all the daemon engines had been sent to the surface and the ones that had remained were of an unfamiliar variety.
The monstrosities were skeletal and humanoid, but the height of a dreadnought, covered in spines of bone and twisted metal, with soft flesh merging with machine under the joints almost like armor that bit and chewed to maintain its grip on the bodies. Their eyes burned with pink Warp-flame and they howled with delight as they fell upon his Flood forms, slashing them apart with crackling lightning claws or vaporizing them with strange projectile launchers that threw containers that shattered on impact, splattering his Flood forms with some kind of acid or venom that ate through their flesh and bone with unnatural swiftness. In response, the Flood forms grew plates of armor to defend themselves, providing little defense against the claws, but falling away when splashed with acid to avoid a more devastating effect and able to be swiftly replaced. Nonetheless, his advance was being pushed back as more and more of the daemon engines appeared at chokepoints.
My only regret is that so few of them will see their doom approaching as it burns down through the sky and cracks their planet open.
Do you always talk this much?
There was another growl and the engines burned with even greater power, only to suddenly recede again, though only by a little. Tide did not fail to notice that. There was a limit to how much the daemon could or was willing to force the issue. He just had to find and surpass that limit, but his efforts were all being blocked.
Could he fire on the space hulk? No, the rupturing of too many power cores could devastate the planet just as easily as the crash. He didn't have the biomass to wrap around the space hulk and use Neural Transit to send it away either and the Star Road certainly wasn't large enough.
I can feel your fear, Interloper. You truly are an amateur at this kind of game.
It was Tide's turn to snarl and he redirected his efforts in an attempt to gain control of the engines again, but his efforts were easily repelled.
I must say, I'm somewhat disappointed. I'd thought you would be a challenge, but it seems you have the technical knowledge of an Ork.
Tide's assault paused, focusing for a moment on simply warding off the attacks of the daemon.
I must say, you have a fragile ego if so base an insult reached you.
The daemon laughed, but it was cut-off by a sensation unfamiliar to it.
Tide was laughing as well.
And he was laughing at the daemon.
"OY, YOU LOT!" Warboss Bonesmasha Skraplotta roared, causing the ears of a nearby snotling to pop from the sheer level of noise. One might have thought his voice amplified by the Deff Dread that contained him and one would be wrong as he was simply that loud. Every Ork in the camp, nearly five thousand in all, turned to look at Bonesmasha, naturally assuming they were the ones who had been spoken too. In truth, he was only really speaking to a pair of Ork Mekboys that were currently resting next to a half-finished Killa Kan, the half-entombed gretchin within screaming angrily and in pain. "GET BACK TA WORK!"
The Mekboys nodded rapidly and quickly continued the entombment process, much to the fury of the half-mad gretchin. Bonesmasha continued on through the camp, looking this way and that for a new target to yell at. There were plenty to choose from, but a Warboss had to be selective when it came to discipline. Well, not really, but he chose to be and he was the Warboss, so what he said was true.
He soon found his next target on the edge of the camp. The Ork Boy was a sentry, staring off into the black desert that surrounded the ruined Rok he had chosen to be his headquarters, in that he had split the heads of several disobedient Orks into four pieces there. The Ork Boy was technically doing his job, but he looked like he was bored, which was unacceptable to Bonesmasha' half-mad mind. The fact that the Boy did not hear the loud, mechanical stomping of Bonesmasha's approach also indicated a lack of attention given to his task.
Bonesmasha towered over the Ork, who seemed fixated on the desert and entirely unaware of his presence until a large, mechanical klaw snapped around the Boy's torso, lifting him up suddenly into the air with a yelp and turning him around to face the Deff Dread that Bonesmasha had been interred in.
"WHAT ARE YOU ZOGGIN LOOKIN' AT!?!" Bonesmasha roared, loud enough that the Ork in his grasp writhed in pain and slammed his hands over his ears hard enough to bruise even an Ork's tough skin.
"Dere's-!" The Ork paused, perhaps surprised he couldn't hear his own voice, and he continued again in a far louder voice. "DERE'S SOMETIN OUT DERE, BOSS!"
"DON'T YOU YELL AT ME, YA GIT!" Bonesmasha yelled in rage. The Ork swiftly shook his head, a look of plain terror on his face.
"NO! I mean, no, Boss, I just couldn't hear myself-!" The Ork's words turned into a yelp as he was tossed away by Bonesmasha, who had lost interest in the excuse and turned to look out at something in the desert that had caught his attention. The Ork landed in a pile of limbs in front of him and quickly scrambled out of the way to avoid being crushed as Bonesmasha stomped towards an approaching figure. It looked humanoid, but not quite human. And it was quite tall as well and… leafy.
Several other Orks stopped what they were doing as their Warboss marched out of the camp, some following his gaze to see the interloper. Word quickly spread and soon the entire mob of Orks was following their Boss.
Bonesmasha and the figure drew closer and he saw it looked like a tree. He had never seen a tree himself, it was simply something he knew inherently as a source of fuel and, occasionally, a source of material for shoddier types of weapons. Yet, he was fairly certain that trees did not walk atop two legs, nor did they carry greatswords made of some razor sharp, bark-covered material.
The figure halted around fifty paces away from Bonesmasha, who halted in turn. It was tall, taller than him in his Deff Dread even if one counted the odd, canopy-like crown of leaves and branches that sprouted from its head. Its bark-like shell was bone white, a stark contrast to the fiery red of its leaves. Embedded in where a face would be were four gemstone-like eyes that Bonesmasha had the sudden thought would look excellent as a decoration for his Deff Dread.
"Oy," Bonesmasha said in a lower voice. "Gimme yer eyes."
"Pass," Came the reply, though where the voice had emerged from the unknown alien was difficult to say. "I come with an offer."
"Don't care," Bonesmasha said, his voice growing darker with anger. He leveled a klaw towards the alien. "Want yer eyes."
"And here I thought Orks wanted a fight. Though, if you're scared of fighting me alone…" The alien said, sounding entirely unimpressed. Within the confinement of the Deff Dread, Bonesmasha's ragged and dessicated lips widened in a grin that split them open and had blood dribble down his chin.
"YOU?" He asked, laughing with the sound of static. "YOU WANNA FIGHT ME, TRUNKIE?!?"
His amusement had the rest of the Orks join in and the desert of ash was soon filled with mocking laughs, taunts, and jeers. The alien raised the blade, pointing it towards the Ork Warboss. When it spoke, its voice was as deep as thunder and rumbled over the mob.
"GIT."
The entire mob went dead quiet in an instant. Bonesmasha was silent as a tomb, staring out at the alien. When he spoke, it was in a harsh whisper directed to the Orks around him.
"Stay outta dis."
Bonesmasha stomped forwards, rising to his full height, though only coming up to the trunkie's shoulder. He had recently exchanged the shootas and kannons of his Deff Dread for power klaws and buzzsaws, as he'd felt like eviscerating a few unruly Orks who'd said the only reason he was in charge was because he had the biggest shootas. It was true, but he'd still enjoyed ripping them apart.
Now, those weapons activated, crackling into life with a high-pitched whir as jagged teeth cut through the air. The trunkie took its own stance, holding its blade up in a duelist's challenge towards the approaching Deff Dread, who advanced with buzzsaws extended, whirring death held in front, while power klaws snipped eagerly from the sides.
Bonesmasha let out a cry of delight as the trunkie's sword swung downwards towards him, meeting its blade with his buzzsaws, which chewed against the bark, yet had a tough time doing more than scratching its surface. They broke away from each other and Bonesmasha attached with the saws, swinging downwards towards the shoulders of the trunkie, only for his own attack to be intercepted by the blade.
The power klaws thrusted forward then, reaching out to try and snap off the legs of the xenos, only for said legs to flex and push off the ground with inhuman strength, carrying the trunkie up out of the reach of Bonesmasha's klaws and then fully over and behind the Deff Dread, landing with a loud thud.
Bonesmasha whirled around into a diagonal slash with all four of his weapons, but each blow was weathered by the blade that almost certainly wasn't wood. He swung one buzzsaw towards the head of the trunkie, but it ducked and he was only able to cut through a few of the branches atop its head.
His arms were a whirl of mechanical motion, striking and snapping and whirring and biting, yet each attack was either evaded or blocked. Increasingly frustrated, Bonesmasha put more and more strength into each blow.
That was what his foe had been waiting for.
A buzzsaw sliced forwards towards the trunkie's chest, only for it to sidestep the attack and bring its blade up in a slash that cut off the thin wrist of the saw. The whirring blade fell to the ground, bouncing, its spin sending it rocketing off to the side where a grot who had gotten too close cried out loudly as it took off a few toes.
Bonesmasha stared at the missing end of his limb, then roared furiously, redoubling his attacks again, then again, continuously pushing the trunkie back, yet not making any headway. In an attempt to deal with that blade, Bonesmasha targeted it instead, yet the movements of this strange creature were simply too illusive.
Frustration coming to new heights, Bonesmasha roared again and brought its klaw downwards in an attempt to bash whatever passed for the trunkie's skull in, only for it to catch against the blade, which slid down the klaw and once more snipped off the thin wrist. The klaw thudded to the ground, but Bonesmasha didn't care and used the still-functioning arm to attack anyways, slamming it into the head of the trunkie, grinning as he felt the bark crunch under the blow and the creature stumbled back, seemingly disorientated.
Bonesmasha charged forward, eager to take advantage of the momentary weakness, but that too had been a ploy. The blade came up in a slash that he was barely able to twist out of, still sacrificing his left pair of limbs at the shoulder rather than his life. Bonesmasha roared furiously, lashing out again, but he was starting to realize he might not win this fight.
His remaining intact limb, a power klaw, bit through the air, angling for the trunkie's sword arm. Bonesmasha got in close, but the trunkie was too fast and leapt back again, before bringing the sword down, but the Warboss was fast enough to intercept it. Bonesmasha roared triumphantly as his klaw closed around the blade and, with vicious glee, snapped it in two.
But all that did was free the grip he had on the creature. It brought the sword-turned-dagger down in an arc that cut through the remaining arms Bonesmasha had, severing them as well from his body and leaving him with only his legs and torso intact. Then, with almost disrespectful casualness, the trunkie lifted one leg and delivered a powerful kick to the top of the Deff Dread. It toppled and could not get up again no matter how much Bonesmasha struggled.
The trunkie stepped forward, planting one leg atop the struggling Warboss and lifting the broken blade up above his crown of leaves. The orks roared angrily, preparing to charge in themselves and join the fray, but were cut off by the sound of a thunderous voice.
"I OFFER YOU THE BEST FIGHT OF YOUR LIVES!" The trunkie boomed, and its voice seemed to come from all across the ashen sea as well, from beyond the dunes that they could see, rolling across the air like a stormfront. The orks paused, temporarily frozen from shock and fear, but they listened as well. "IN EXCHANGE FOR A SINGLE SERVICE, I WILL GIVE YOU WAR EVERLASTING!"
The orks glanced at each other, uncertain.
Did I, in all my wisdom, deliberately decide to line up so Day 69 and Chapter 69 were the same, let alone that they included Slaanesh worshippers? Have I planned this from the beginning? No. Will I claim that I did? Absolutely.
BEHOLD MY FORESIGHT!
BEHOLD MY FORESIGHT!
Yup. Should get used to it.
Yup.
Keep yapping....
And you dead now. Even deader then before.
Get fucked you Slaaneshi whore!
Aaaaaand he has army of Orks. It seems Galaxy is even more fucked
Oh no Korks might actually be coming prepare future Orks when real mature Adults come to discipline you in honor of their god Tide
'Ere we go! 'Ere we go! 'Ere we go! ~
Where we gonna go? We don't know!~
'Ere we go! 'Ere we go! 'Ere we go!~
'Ere we go! 'ERE! WE! GO!
WAAAAAGGGGHHHH!
Fungus together strong!
Seriously though I really enjoyed the kind of abstract 'corruption' competition between Tide and the Daemon over the Hulk along with crazy cosmic manipulations by the Star Road.
Where we gonna go? We don't know!~
'Ere we go! 'Ere we go! 'Ere we go!~
'Ere we go! 'ERE! WE! GO!
WAAAAAGGGGHHHH!
Fungus together strong!
Seriously though I really enjoyed the kind of abstract 'corruption' competition between Tide and the Daemon over the Hulk along with crazy cosmic manipulations by the Star Road.
Hmmm a ever growing waaaggghhhh that can be put in stasis when a foe is not presented would be good ground work for kroark and if he infect them could preserv there minds an make fresh bodys for them wonder what kind of night mare thes basterds going to be in a feve centurice
Wait.....waitwaitwait...
Can the Flood bring the Orks into the Domain and let them fight at an accelerated time with the benefit of always coming back or regenerating? Can he pull a page from Khorne's playbook and make his own Tuska Daemon Killa?
Can the Flood bring the Orks into the Domain and let them fight at an accelerated time with the benefit of always coming back or regenerating? Can he pull a page from Khorne's playbook and make his own Tuska Daemon Killa?
I half suspect Tide may set up his own Octarius War situation somewhere after dealing with the Space Hulk, using them as a proving ground for new bioforms and as an endless source of biomass.
For a while, I considered having Tide create 'Thunder Domes' which would have a few thousand Orks that were constantly fighting with his bioforms, slowly increasing their size before being harvested for their biomass before they reach a truly threatening level, while leaving enough spores and nutrients behind for the cycle to continue. Decided against it because I don't think he'd be morally alright with industrialized sentient-farms though, even if those sentients are orks who would probably be mostly okay with it.
Last edited:
- Location
- colombia
"im but a humble farmer of orkz,and now is harvesting season" *racks shotgun*
Ha, fair enough, whilst the Orkz would love an endless fight like that it probably takes a bit of a twisted perspective unless Tide could preserve the consciousnesses of the Orkz involved.
Maybe in a few thousand years.
yacov
Lurking and sometimes blurting
- Location
- Clogging a drain
Tide: "I am not the Messiah!"
Also Tide: "Oh no my mortals are facing an apocalypse!" Does The Rapture 2.0: Everyone Edition
Last edited:
- Location
- Wherever I feel like being
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Tide: "Do you know why I deny being a god?"
Random hive-dweller: "Uuuuuhhh..."
Tide: "Because gods are supposed to be perfect. I am so very far from that state as to be a laughable affair. My mistakes are many, my errors compounding themselves every picosecond, and my failures are heartbreaking. And I must cling to this. I must never ever forget it. Because if I do? I will fall to hubris and megalomania. I will become just as bad as the things that already stalk the warp; the cancerous pustules that feed off of all life even as they depend on it for their existence. And that thought, above all else, terrifies me."
Random hive-dweller: "Um, I'm sorry to hear that lord, but this is a ration distribution station."
Random hive-dweller: "Uuuuuhhh..."
Tide: "Because gods are supposed to be perfect. I am so very far from that state as to be a laughable affair. My mistakes are many, my errors compounding themselves every picosecond, and my failures are heartbreaking. And I must cling to this. I must never ever forget it. Because if I do? I will fall to hubris and megalomania. I will become just as bad as the things that already stalk the warp; the cancerous pustules that feed off of all life even as they depend on it for their existence. And that thought, above all else, terrifies me."
Random hive-dweller: "Um, I'm sorry to hear that lord, but this is a ration distribution station."
Last edited:
Orks suddenly speaking proper English (Krork heritage): "I know you're playing us you cheeky bugger... AND IT'S DEFINITELY WORKING! WE'RE IN! LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Arcane Howitzer
Serial Arcanist
- Location
- United States
You know, for a group that calls themselves "Chaos" they sure have a hard time coming up with new material. Seriously, everywhere they go it's the same old schtick; They set up secret cults to corrupt the populace from within, use their agents to open the planet up for a daemonic invasion, then eat everyone's souls and let the lesser daemons pick over whatever's left of the world. Anywhere that doesn't work, keep throwing power at the problem until something breaks.
I personally don't even call them "Chaos" anymore. It makes things too confusing when they experience actual chaos, and "The Ruinous Powers" is far more appropriate and descriptive of them anyways.
We Are Small by Jackson Fox
We Are Small
Fair Warning: If you get existential dread, maybe not the story for you.
Purilla stared up at the ceiling of her room. She sank into the covers of her bed, feeling as though it might swallow her up.
The last few months… No, in a way, the last few years had all been awful. She could not say that her whole life was a waste or terrible, because she did have fond memories, plenty of them. But when had it all gone wrong?
She wasn't sure. Surely it hadn't started when she was born, that much was obvious. Then when?
Was it the Great Crusade, when the Emperor failed to vanquish the forces of darkness? Was it before that, in the Dark Age of Technology? Or even all the way back to the start of humanity?
Everything had been wrong for so long. She was usually better at avoiding thinking about it. If she thought about it for too long, the doubts started to set in and the dark thoughts followed. Such a thing was dangerous for anyone, much less a psyker.
"Would you like to talk about it?"
She turned her head slowly. She wasn't in her bed anymore, but a thought-construct of it within the Domain. A faceless man looked to her, or was he a man? She couldn't really tell.
"I…" Purilla began, before turning away. "It's too much…"
"What is?"
She cast him a sidelong glance. "Don't you already know?"
"It helps to say these things. Sometimes."
"It's…" She let out a long and pained sigh. "All of it. The Imperium. Chaos. Xenos. There's too much wrong with this galaxy."
"That isn't anything new."
"How…" Purilla started, then stopped. She tried to figure out what question she wanted to ask, tried to put the feelings inside her into words. "Its… There's a chasm, in my chest. Every time I think about… how we're going to survive in this galaxy, it grows. You're powerful, but…"
"Am I enough?"
She nodded and reached up to grab a pillow, wrapping her arms around it in a tight hug.
"Do you even know?" She asked, glancing at him.
"I do not," he said. "There are many ways that I could be defeated. And there are so many things that I do not know that could be threats to us."
She buried her face into the pillow, forcing her breathing to remain steady.
"I…" She breathed in deeply. "I feel… like everything is going to go wrong… Like its all going to end."
He was quiet for a moment. "I know the feeling," he said. She glanced up at him.
"W-…" She shuddered, taking in another deep breath. "H-how do you deal with it?"
He looked down at her and his face might have had consideration on it.
"Would you like to see something?" He asked suddenly, almost randomly. She stared at him, unshed tears in her eyes, each breath a rattled, choking gasp.
"W-what?" She asked, wondering if he was trying to distract her.
"It might help," he said, before warning, "or it might make things worse."
"I…" She paused, taking a deep breath. "I don't see how it can."
"Alright," he said with a nod. She didn't sink, but rose from the bed, as if pulled along by some invisible force.
She floated, up and up, out of the thought-construct of the governor's palace, and then out of the hive city altogether. She travelled upwards, past the atmosphere, into space beyond. She saw the tips of the spires that poked out of Monstrum's clouds, watched as they shrank as she was drawn further and further away until she could hold out her thumb and cover the whole planet from sight.
She saw Monstrum's star, burning gold and red and orange. She watched as it too shrank away into a dot of light that joined countless others.
She saw shadows moving through those stars, massive and titanic like deep-sea predators moving below the currents. She saw giants that swallowed those stars whole striding across the galaxy and she saw monsters that curled around them, made them wrong and unnatural. She saw rampaging wars that made those stars wink out.
"You're right," she said. "It didn't help."
Just wait.
She was drawn away faster and faster, until she saw the whole of the galaxy, just like she'd seen Monstrum, and then it too was just another glittering dot joined by countless others. Endless galaxies spread out across her vision, more than could be counted in a lifetime, but even these collections merged into the singular lights of superclusters that in turn shrank away.
Then… she stopped and she hung there and she thought she might have been in the center of the universe. There was nothing there, just emptiness, but it was not dark. The countless galaxies of countless superclusters shone like many-colored stars that glittered all around her.
She wasn't sure where Monstrum was anymore, she realized. Or even her own galaxy or even the supercluster it was a part of. Which of those lights was home? None, she realized. For light to have reached out so far, it would have had to travel countless billions of years. The light that reached her was older than humanity, older than any sentient race or maybe even life itself. Older than giants. Older than monsters.
So… do you still feel like it'll be the end of everything?
Fair Warning: If you get existential dread, maybe not the story for you.
Purilla stared up at the ceiling of her room. She sank into the covers of her bed, feeling as though it might swallow her up.
The last few months… No, in a way, the last few years had all been awful. She could not say that her whole life was a waste or terrible, because she did have fond memories, plenty of them. But when had it all gone wrong?
She wasn't sure. Surely it hadn't started when she was born, that much was obvious. Then when?
Was it the Great Crusade, when the Emperor failed to vanquish the forces of darkness? Was it before that, in the Dark Age of Technology? Or even all the way back to the start of humanity?
Everything had been wrong for so long. She was usually better at avoiding thinking about it. If she thought about it for too long, the doubts started to set in and the dark thoughts followed. Such a thing was dangerous for anyone, much less a psyker.
"Would you like to talk about it?"
She turned her head slowly. She wasn't in her bed anymore, but a thought-construct of it within the Domain. A faceless man looked to her, or was he a man? She couldn't really tell.
"I…" Purilla began, before turning away. "It's too much…"
"What is?"
She cast him a sidelong glance. "Don't you already know?"
"It helps to say these things. Sometimes."
"It's…" She let out a long and pained sigh. "All of it. The Imperium. Chaos. Xenos. There's too much wrong with this galaxy."
"That isn't anything new."
"How…" Purilla started, then stopped. She tried to figure out what question she wanted to ask, tried to put the feelings inside her into words. "Its… There's a chasm, in my chest. Every time I think about… how we're going to survive in this galaxy, it grows. You're powerful, but…"
"Am I enough?"
She nodded and reached up to grab a pillow, wrapping her arms around it in a tight hug.
"Do you even know?" She asked, glancing at him.
"I do not," he said. "There are many ways that I could be defeated. And there are so many things that I do not know that could be threats to us."
She buried her face into the pillow, forcing her breathing to remain steady.
"I…" She breathed in deeply. "I feel… like everything is going to go wrong… Like its all going to end."
He was quiet for a moment. "I know the feeling," he said. She glanced up at him.
"W-…" She shuddered, taking in another deep breath. "H-how do you deal with it?"
He looked down at her and his face might have had consideration on it.
"Would you like to see something?" He asked suddenly, almost randomly. She stared at him, unshed tears in her eyes, each breath a rattled, choking gasp.
"W-what?" She asked, wondering if he was trying to distract her.
"It might help," he said, before warning, "or it might make things worse."
"I…" She paused, taking a deep breath. "I don't see how it can."
"Alright," he said with a nod. She didn't sink, but rose from the bed, as if pulled along by some invisible force.
She floated, up and up, out of the thought-construct of the governor's palace, and then out of the hive city altogether. She travelled upwards, past the atmosphere, into space beyond. She saw the tips of the spires that poked out of Monstrum's clouds, watched as they shrank as she was drawn further and further away until she could hold out her thumb and cover the whole planet from sight.
She saw Monstrum's star, burning gold and red and orange. She watched as it too shrank away into a dot of light that joined countless others.
She saw shadows moving through those stars, massive and titanic like deep-sea predators moving below the currents. She saw giants that swallowed those stars whole striding across the galaxy and she saw monsters that curled around them, made them wrong and unnatural. She saw rampaging wars that made those stars wink out.
"You're right," she said. "It didn't help."
Just wait.
She was drawn away faster and faster, until she saw the whole of the galaxy, just like she'd seen Monstrum, and then it too was just another glittering dot joined by countless others. Endless galaxies spread out across her vision, more than could be counted in a lifetime, but even these collections merged into the singular lights of superclusters that in turn shrank away.
Then… she stopped and she hung there and she thought she might have been in the center of the universe. There was nothing there, just emptiness, but it was not dark. The countless galaxies of countless superclusters shone like many-colored stars that glittered all around her.
She wasn't sure where Monstrum was anymore, she realized. Or even her own galaxy or even the supercluster it was a part of. Which of those lights was home? None, she realized. For light to have reached out so far, it would have had to travel countless billions of years. The light that reached her was older than humanity, older than any sentient race or maybe even life itself. Older than giants. Older than monsters.
So… do you still feel like it'll be the end of everything?