Night10194 posted:

All of 1d4chan is written like that.

Onmi posted:

Didn't even notice it.

List of Things the Angry Marines Hate With a Passion posted:

Grey Knights- A bunch of loving Mary Sues endorsed by Matthew Ward and Hitler.

Poil posted:

anilEhilated posted:

Please tell me someone plays this in tabletop with an actual ruleset.

anilEhilated posted:

Please tell me someone plays this in tabletop with an actual ruleset.

quote:

"As you can see," The Master of the Administratum Vorenus droned on, pointing high on the holographic map, towards the oncoming jaws of purple encompassing Imperium space, "By the projections submitted by Inquisitor Czevak, Hive Fleet Leviathan will soon subsume sectors Imber, Sellerten, Gallia, and Charon, crippling the supply lines through out the whole of the Segmentum Tempestus-" Something shifted in the darkness in the vast meeting room, forcing Vorenus to squint, trying to make out which figure was raising his hand at the end of the thirty yards of table.

"Yes, Master Madek, Represent-"

The Inquisitorial Representative did not bother to wait for Vorenus to finish, to shout through his megaphone, "I ADVOCATE EXTERMINATUS."

Vorenus blinked, slowly, then delicately removed his spectacles to massage his much aching head, "Ah. Yes. Does the Inquisitorial Representative wish to explain his plan?"

"IT IS SIMPLE, SOFT HEARTED PEDOPHILE OF A SCRIBE! WE MUST DENY THE TYRANIDS THEIR FOOD! THEY SHALL STARVE WITHOUT WORLDS TO CONSUME!" Despite the distance, the megaphone was amped to just the right volume to be eardrum damaging.

"Your recommendation noted, Inquisitor, however, the problem is that these sectors supply most of the Imperial Guard in the Segmentum, and really, the loss of a forge world hurts u-"

"YOUR CRAVEN SNIVELING BORDERS ON HERESY, THRICE ADDLED PRODUCT OF A DRUNKEN RATLING AND A TROLLOP OF A GROX!"

"Look, the Lord Commander Militant of the Imperial Guard can back me up here, what we need is to see about getting some forces over there to blunt the Hive Fleet and see about deterring the bloody thing-"

The Lord Commander Militant of the Imperial Guard nodded then, happy that someone had noticed him, and cut in, "Yes! And I've got just the commander for it, a bright young lad, a certain General Macharius, I've heard quite a few good things about him! Why, he's just popped off on crusade it would be the simplest thing to-"

Vorenus buried his head in his hands, "Lord Commander Militant Gryphon, Lord Commander Solar Macharius has been dead for nearly seven hundred years."

"I'M ORDERING THE EXTERMINATUSES NOW. HOW MANY SECTORS DID YOU SAY WE NEEDED TO BLOW UP?"

The Master of the Administratum took on his familiar thousand yard stare as the rest of the High Lords of Terra fell to arguing over whether or not there were nineteen or twenty sectors that required the Emperor's Wrath, whether they were in the Segmentum Obscurus or the Ultima Segmentum, how many Grey Knights they should send to protect the Inquisitors, and what color the planets should burn. The High Lords of Terra then retired early for a congratulatory dinner banquet.

The Master of the Administratum Vorenus was not an idealistic young man. He was in fact over four hundred years old, having through sheer dint of will, lack of scruples, and razor sharp intelligence managed to crawl through the lethal bureaucracy of Terra to the top. He did not consider himself an idealist, he might have been at first, when he set himself to the idea of gaining power at any cost, but decades of treachery, incompetence, and corruption had worn away whatever expectations he had of mankind.

But, he reflected as he returned to his desk in the Apostate Hall of Eternally Silent Executioners, or whatever bloody over elaborate name it was, he had never thought the High Lords of Terra to be so... Impotent.

Few of the High Lords bothered to show up to meetings anymore, and what few were there seemed permanently detached from reality, unwilling to pay attention to what few threads there were left connecting Terra to the rest of the Imperium in favor of their elaborate fantasies. The High Lords of Terra were expected to meet every day, but there was surprisingly little that they could actually do from- oh bloody Hell, Vorenus thought as he ended up in some mile wide hall of skulls and cherubim or another, he could have sworn that his office was just past the third Warlord titan on the left.

"loving stupid bloody huge Imperial Palace," growled Vorenus as he turned on his heel and tramped back trying to find his desk, "Stupid bloody High Lords."

He was unsure where the other High Lords went after meeting in the Imperial Palace. They had to be living somewhere in there- or maybe they all had personal teleporters that would whisk them away to pleasure palaces of nubile harems of xenos. That seemed most likely, considering how wasteful everything else was here.

Distracted by thoughts of what HE would do with a harem of nubile xenos, Vorenus ended up taking a right at the Manifest Ornery of Divine Wrath, instead of the left he normally took, and before long found himself shivering as he stepped through an artificial fog. Just my bloody luck, Vorenus thought as he stumbled through, his expensive robes and vast paunch not helping him stay warm, I've found the Emperor damned acre large freezer.

Vorenus was about to turn around, to give up and find some corner in the stupidly vast Imperial Palace to sleep in, when he spotted something that looked remarkably like a step pyramid, pulsating with a soft white light. Cables, as wide as tree trunks snaked across the floor leading to it, and coming from the ceilings above where he could dimly perceive vast bulbs of...Something, giving off a reddish tint-

Vorenus halted, choking and sputtering. It couldn't be. It was impossible. Where were the Adeptus Custodes? They were everywhere in the Imperial Palace, glowering in their armor, unmoving even when pelted with particularly well made paper airplanes.

How could he have gotten to the Emperor's Throne Room so easily?

Something within him compelled himself to take the march up the ziggurat. It couldn't be, he reassured himself, it was impossible. He would have had to have passed the Eternity Gate, that was the only way to the Emperor! No, no, this had to be some stupid ridiculous power generator or something. Maybe it was the Paternoval Envoy's bachelor pad. Sure, that'd make sense, he'd go up to the top and see the fat bastard languishing up there, enjoying some thousands of heresies, and all he would get would be yelled at, not executed for, y'know. Somehow finding a back way in.

Yet, before Vorenus knew it, he was standing before a vast golden sarcophagus, the holy Emperor's armor and face impressed upon it in gold. A thousand tubes led in to and out of the holy presence, pumping in vital fluid and sweeping away poison- and the throne! The size around of two large ground cars laid end to end-

And there, could he hear? At the edge of barely perceptible? Soft screaming?

Vorenus's mouth was dry. He was standing across from a living god. For a moment, fantasies swept him- freeing the Emperor, reforming the Imperium, seeing the old fools of the High Lords swept out- oh how simple it could be, how easy- if the Emperor were not comatic.

Vorenus blinked. Wait, no, that wasn't a soft screaming he was hearing. It was a soft alarm bell. He squinted, glanced at the base of the throne and crawled forward, pulled away a curtain of cables- a small blinking green light.

Just a simple circle, green glass, glowing intermittently, emitting some sort of ringing noise, in white paint, written in cursive high gothic, "Release" scribed upon it.

Vorenus blinked. This didn't seem right. He glanced around- all the rest was all arcane technology that he couldn't understand. Seriously? A green blinking button? He had seen more complicated razor blades.

Then, Vorenus grew aware of a vast metal roar, a dull screaming of tortured steel, and he glanced behind him, through the wires, and he saw off in the distance through the fog a great white light growing, and distant booming voices reached his ears. Something about how they should really get a door installed in this place.

Men like Vorenus have certain instincts take hold of them- when danger presents itself, these men find their spine, their inner core, their inner resolve, and smash, stomp, crush and grind it so that they can cram themselves into a hiding spot all the better.

Vorenus was making a squalling whine when the Adeptus Custodes found him wedged underneath the Throne, underneath the blinking green release button.

"Okay," Started one of the behemoths as he glanced towards the others, "Who the gently caress left the Gate unlocked?"

"I KNEW we shouldn't have gone out to eat, I loving told you guys, eating in a restaurant and getting delivery are the same loving thing, but noooooo-"
"The Gate is like twenty million tonnes, it takes all ten thousand of us to push it open, it's not a matter of whether it's loving unlocked or not!"

The Adeptus Custodes were acting most un-Adeptus Custodes like, reflected the only non screaming neuron in Vorenus's mind.

"So, uh, what the gently caress do we do with him?"
"Welllllllllll, he IS caught under the Throne- the problem'll solve itself in about an hour. After that, heap him in the food processor for Big E I say."
"Wait, hang on," murmured one of the Custodes- Vorenus was aware of a squealing noise as the power armored behemoth leaned forward, "Is that-?"

The release button! Vorenus's weasel mind acted of its own accord, his hand scraping and scratching along the metal, reaching for the button.

"Oh poo poo, yeah, yeah that is! Stop him!"
"DUDE, you don't wanna do this!" A massive metal gauntlet catches Vorenus's hand, but a pinky breaks free, scratching, trying desperately to push-

A massive burst of mist flooded from the throne, driving Vorenus into a shiver immediately as it soaks him through to the bone- and he notes, with pleasure, the throne raised, allowing Vorenus to be pulled free, to gape upwards as the Emperor's Throne rose, along with the Custodes.

"Well gently caress," Said one, "Here we go again."

"I HAVE AWOKEN," bellowed forth, reverberating across the massive throne room, as the Throne rose ever higher on pneumatics, and immediately, Vorenus's heart skipped a beat, for some part of him immediately recognized- the God Emperor had returned.

"loving always does this overdramatic bull," murmured one of the Custodes.

"Brother Clovis thankfully managed to finally get the last of those 'Eye of the Tiger' eight tracks, so at least we'll be spared that," the Custodes stopped, looked down at Vorenus as if for the first time, "Hey, this is the Master of the Administratum, right?" another asked, as a laser light show came on above the Throne, a fog machine dying a noisy death while attempting to set the atmosphere.

"THE EMPEROR HAS ENTERED THE BUILDING," Announced the intercom, as Vorenus stared up with shining eyes. His God, the God Emperor, had returned to lead humanity to glory and purity. This was the happiest day of his life. Even the Adeptus Custodes scolding him over his shoulder could dampen the mood as the Throne returned to the ziggurat.

Vorenus had been prepared for some atrophy. He wasn't a superstitious peasant that believed the Emperor to be whole after everything that had happened. But maybe he should have been. Vorenus stared up, as the physically perfect specimen, massive, divine presence stepped forth from the sarcophagus, rubbing his forehead.

"M-My Emperor-" Vorenus gasped, crawling forward despite himself-

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, keep it down, kemosabe!" The Emperor rubbed his forward, wincing, "Not likey the talky talky after the wakey wakey, que pasa amigo? Theodore ROOSEVELT, my head loving hurts. What the gently caress you got pumping into me, fuckos?"

One of the Adeptus Custodes looked down, scuffed the ground with his boot, and murmured, "psykers," very quietly.

The massive vision of perfection rolled his eyes, raising a toned, bronze arm, in a wave of disgust, "There we are! That's the problem, right loving there- you-" Adonis ten foot incarnate stopped, narrowed his eyes, carefully shaped his lips, "You stuck me in that loving light house thing again, didn't you?"

"...Yeeeaaahhhhh..." One of the Custodes said as the Emperor proceeded to step over Vorenus and proceeded to smack every Custodes in the back of the head to punctuate his sentences as he shouted: "How many loving! Times have I told you! Not to loving hook me into! The God drat psychic soul eating light house! When! I'm! Trying! To! Sleep!"

"Owwwww, jeez, man, that hurt!"
"Try telling me about hurting, when you wake up after who the gently caress knows how long, with a psyker soul hangover!"

Vorenus the entire time struggled to follow the conversation, his mind and his eyes clearly disagreeing about what was going on. He rose, then immediately bended again in supplication, "My Emperor, if I may trouble you-"
"Gimme a bit, alright? I gotta take a leak!"
Vorenus blinked, "A, ah, uh?"
"A BIIIIIIIG leak! Commodus! Get the bucket!"

As the Emperor passed over to another side of the ziggurat, murmuring something about morning wood, one of the Custodes glared down at Vorenus, "You loving happy now, rear end in a top hat? Now I gotta hold a bucket for him to poo poo in! gently caress my life!" Shouted the superhuman as he turned and tramped down the ziggurat, as a sigh of relief came from the God Emperor of Mankind, a refrain against the soft trickling.

Things were not going according to plan.

By the time the God Emperor of Mankind had vacated his bowels, emptied his bladder, taken a slow walk around naked, eaten the Custodes' pizza (While the Custodes complained about the Emperor being "a cheapass bogarting fucktard"), put on his Golden Armor over the course of two hours, and gotten a cup of coffee, the Master of the Administratum Vorenus had reconciled himself to the idea that the God Emperor of Mankind was possibly not so formal as he had thought. However, Vorenus assured himself that once being appraised of the situation, the Emperor would surely marshal himself to the task of reforming the Imperium. He had just awoken a bare seven hours ago, one should not expect so much.

Vorenus wasn't entirely sure how to approach, so he decided to just get on his hands and knees and crawl forward, facing down.

"Dude, what do you want, buttsex, HAH!" Vorenus spared a peek up towards his lord and master, who was holding aloft a gauntleted hand, waiting for a Custodes to respond in kind. The Custodes was pointedly ignoring the Emperor. "Y'know, cause he's crawling rear end forw- aw whatever, that would've killed on Commoragh, you're just uncool."

"My most glorious Emperor, Keeper of Knowledge, Savior of Man, Bringer of Pe-"

"Doer of your mom, yeah, I know, can we hurry this up?"

Vorenus blinked. WAS he divine issue? How could his mother not tell him?

"He's just being a douche."

"Shut up, Commodus!"

"O-oh," Vorenus felt very disappointed that Gurden Vilnos, Proctologist would still be his father, "Ahem, anyway, my most Divine Emperor, it is about your Empire-"

"Pretty awesome, right?" The Emperor smiled down upon Vorenus, "Y'know, I didn't really think I'd like this whole, 'skulls all over everything ever' look, but gently caress man, it's pretty drat metal in retrospect!"

"M-metal?"

"Bad!'

"You don't like it?" Vorenus stared up, smiling despite himself, "Oh thank, ah, well, you, I thought I was the only one that hated all this! I mean, really, sure space marines I can understand, but do we REALLY need messenger drones to be floating skulls? It can't be hygienic, I mean, just the other day I try to send a letter to the provost marshal and another of these stupid skulls comes floating in and I mean I'm like-"

"Bad as in awesome," The Emperor was giving Vorenus a bored look.

"Uh, uh oh. Well, there's other matters," Vorenus took on a grave expression, as he stared at the Emperor from his knees, "The galaxy burns, my lord. The forces of Chaos rally themselves, and strike without warning across the whole of our space, the-"

"Orks everywhere, 'nids eating things, blah blah blah," The Emperor rolled his eyes as he turned away from Vorenus, "I heard this bullshit the last time I got up, man, and yeah, I heard space was black already too so just keep that one to yourself, slowpoke."

"Last...Time?"

"Don't knock your balls about it, buddy boy," The Emperor waved Vorenus up then, "Just get me to the High Lords of Terra so I can things in loving motion again."

Vorenus's heart sang then, "Y-You mean you already have a plan, my lord?"

"Course I loving do! You think I'm retarded or something? Don't worry Jimbo, I got this thing under control, it'll be smoother than a brazilian," The Emperor gave Vorenus a wink, "I AM the Emperor after all, aren't I?"

Vorenus smiled then, staring up at his incarnate god, and all of a sudden, everything seemed like it would be okay.

***

The next day, Vorenus had another thousand yard stare off into the distance as he and the other High Lords of Terra sat about their familiar table. The hated floating skulls were flying back and forth, like a flock of bone white crows, carrying long, long reams of paper. All of the reports inevitably dropped in front of Vorenus.

The other members of the High Lords of Terra were equally silent, staring at Vorenus. The gazes ranged from pure hate, to exasperated disappointment. Vorenus glanced at the pile. Message after message from the astropaths- "Where did the Astronomicon go?"

All was silent, aside from the buzz of floating skulls, the crinkling sighs of falling papers, and the Emperor, trying to get in contact with the primarchs.

"Hey, uh, is this Ultramar? DUUUUDDDEEEE HOWZITGOIN'? What do you mean who is this? It's the EMPEROR BRO! Rollin' straight outta Terr- huh? Hello? Hello? gently caress," The Emperor lowered his bespangled plastic contraption from his ear, and frowned, "Musta been a wrong number. Hey, dial the next one!"

The Emperor slid the device down to the Abbess Sanctorum Beata, who sighed, brought up a piece of paper, read along it, and hit the buttons on the device, which emitted a series of musical tones.

All the High Lords of Terra were there (Aside from the Grand Master of the Officio Assassinorum who had gone missing a month before), and all of them were mute, and looking extremely world weary. Occasionally, outside, a loud screaming noise sounding like an escaped banshee from the warp sounded, managing to pierce the walls of the Imperial Palace somehow. Master of the Administratum Vorenus mutely wondered if these were errant ships that tried to guide themselves through the warp ramming into the planet.

"Hey, is this Ultramar? Dude, heya- what, you never heard of a call before? Y'know, two people talkin' in the same room- Astronomicon? No way man, nuh-uh, do NOT talk to me about that dude, that is BAD. NEWS. Oh, you're not on Ultramar? I don't give a poo poo if your battlebarge is about to plow into Isaac Asimov, just- just- Oh hey, you're breaking up. Oh. Uh huh. Well alright man, I'm on Terra, I'll go check the," The God Emperor of Mankind looked up at the High Lords of Terra, and with a smile, mouthed emphatically, " 'ASTRA TELEPATHICA'" The Emperor then proceeded to cover the phone, and mouthed, carefully the word 'dumbass' to the assembled.

The Master of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica began weeping.

"So yeah, no, just leave a message for Roboute, Roboute Guilliman- crazy name, I know- Oh you know the guy! Swee- Wait, hang on. Hang on. Dude. No. Way. Oh. Oh man, that's so sad. Alright, well, peace."

As the man on the other end of the line screamed for help, the Emperor ruefully shook his head, and pressed a button to end the call, "Dude, guys Roboute Guilliman-"

"Is in stasis, suffering from mortal wounds from which there is no known cure," Said everyone else in chorus.

The Emperor stared, taken aback, "Wow, total hive mind there guys, heh," He shook his head, reaching for another page in his list of contacts, "Maybe the NIDS ARE ALREADY AMONG US."

The Emperor's joke, once again, failed to impress.

By the end of the day, the God Emperor of Mankind had successfully verified that Magnus the Red had not gotten over the Horus Heresy, Ferrus Manus was still dead, Jaghatai Khan had disappeared into the webway, the Dark Angels were mum about Lion El'Johnson, Leman Russ and Corax had both booked it into the Eye of Terror, Konrad Curze was assassinated, he could only reach Vulkan's answering machine, Rogal Dorn was dead, the Emperor could only remember at the last minute that Sanguinus was dead and passed the phone to Vorenus when someone picked up (Vorenus had mumbled something about a wrong number and got screamed at for 'pranking'), and the Emperor didn't have any of the others' new numbers, though he managed to get a hold of Fulgrim and got excessively weirded out.

"So, yeah, tomorrow guys, I'm thinking, we should see about, this, uh, this whole Eye of Terror thing," The Emperor sagely nodded, "Seems like bad news, and stuff."

"What about the Astronomicon?"
"poo poo on poo poo toast. Next question!"
"Listen, God Emperor," Vorenus kept on, "People are DYING out there by the thousands, they need your guidance they need-"
"Whoa, look at the time," The Emperor rose suddenly from the table, fascinated with his wrist, "Entourage is on, and I promised to get Commodus some anti-herpes medication, gotta go!"

The Emperor attempted to quickly walk away to put a speedy end to the conversation. The fact that the room was an acre large mostly nullified his speedy get away, as he clanked off into the distance, leaving Vorenus uselessly standing there.

As soon as the Empire had clanked away a safe distance, the rest of the High Lords turned on Vorenus in unison.

"I..." Vorenus noted his mouth was dry suddenly, as the most powerful men and women in the galaxy (Aside from the Emperor) were staring at him with hate in their eyes, "Uh...We-Well, he, uh, he just came back, right?"

"He's like this. EVERY. TIME."

* * *

The Second Day.

"So guess which guy has two thumbs and just went out and had a FOURSOME with some hottie pilgrims out in front of the palacIS THIS GUYYY."

The Third Day.

"God drat, what happened to TV guys? All there is is this loving screaming hole. I'm tired of seeing the nightmares of the faithful!"

The Fourth Day.

"IN YO FACE BITCH! IN YO FAAAAAAAACE! You wanna know why it isn't called the Chancellor of the Estate Imperium's Tarot it's because it's THE EMPEROR'S TAROT! Unh YEAH! UNH UNH UNH UNH UNH UNH UNH"

The Fifth Day.

"Hey guess who just TOTALLY picked up some sororitas that has two thuITSTHISGUYYYYYYY."

The Sixth Day.

"So yeah, Fulgrim keeps calling me man, and uh, well I said, 'y'know I don't got anything against homo incest but I got this friend who is REALLY into you,' so what I'm saying Commodus is-"

The Seventh Day.

"I drive warhounds better on amasec!"

The Seventh Night.

"Alright. I give up. How did you get rid of him before?"

The High Lords of Terra returned a withering glare to Vorenus.

"We don't know."

"How is it that you can't know? He's been out before, hasn't he? You've put him back in the Throne before, haven't you?" Vorenus leaned over the table, tears in his eyes, "You can't loving tell me that all of human history will end because, because THAT thing won't accept the sacrifices of his faithful?"

"It's seriously getting pathetic," Mumbled the Master of the Astronomicon, "There's all these pskyers standing around, trying to really subtly ask me if the Emperor is hungry, how he feels about protein shakes, maybe if the Emperor would be willing-"

"God, shut up Longinus, look, that's all there is to it, Vorenus," the Paternoval Envoy of the Navigators spread his hands, "A few of us older ones had to sit through the Emperor when he woke up, he was around for about a month before he suddenly got...Mangled. Then we stuck him back in the throne, and he stayed in there for a good four hundred years."

Vorenus's ears perked up, "Oh, so all we had to do was hurt him? Well, gently caress, we've got a bunch of titans laying around why don't...We..." He was stared down by the rest of the High Lords, "Alright, not that easy, eh."

"HEY GUYS! I FOUND MY OLD COLLECTION OF LAWL CATS!" The Emperor was shouting from the entrance of the High Lords of Terra's room, "loving CHECK THIS poo poo OUT! THEY'RE CATS, WITH loving CAPTIONS ON THEM! IT'S AWESOME!"

"Oh Pious," Whispered Vorenus, staring at the others, his mute despair reflected in their unpitying eyes.

So man ends, not with a bang, nor a whimper, but a 'lawl.'

After a cacaphonous crack above, and some cold liquid splashing on his face, Vorenus woke up, rolled over, vomited, drank the nearby bottle of water, ate the nearby ritz crackers, vomited again, and felt immensely better.

It was the tenth day with the God Emperor of Mankind returned. Vorenus had by now reached the depths of despair. Outside, he knew, the populace wailed and lamented the evil fate that had overtaken them. For a moment, Vorenus had his faith restored when the Emperor started constructing something, but was disappointed when he saw it was some form of keg-rocket contraption, from the 'Ransack' brewery. They launched it from the roof, and the God Emperor of Mankind dubbed it good, before returning to the Palace to finish off the other four kegs left. Vorenus had decided to help him in this matter, and now was feeling the after effects. It was kind of pleasant in a way.

There was another crack, and this time some warm liquid fell on his face. Vorenus frowned. Who the Hell was- he opened his eyes in time to see a bloodthirster leaping over him, before being blown to pieces by crackling bolter fire.

Vorenus felt immensely worse.

Naked, screaming, he ran in circles, as surrounding him were Adeptus Custodes on one side, and the screaming hordes of the Warp on the other, firing and charging into each other with abandon.

In the process of shrieking, he was plucked from the field of fire by Commodus. "Tzeentch's blue balls of fire! Get the gently caress out of here!" He shouted, hefting the unfortunate High Lord out of the way.

"WHY ARE THERE DAEMONS HERE!" Cried/wept Vorenus.

"The Emperor set up his throne on a warpgate, don't loving ask me WHY," Shouted Commodus leveling his bolter at the hordes, "But he DID. It just opened up. RUN."

Vorenus obeyed.

The God Emperor was decidedly mellow about the daemons pouring forth from his Throne Room, barely being held in check by the Adeptus Custodes and their titans.

"Oh yeah, that thing, don't worry about it dude," The Emperor turned back to his device, pressing the strange buttons upon it, "The Adeptus Custodes got that under control like WHOA man."

"Bu-bu-but infinitehordesofthewarplimitedammostatisticalimpossibilityeternaltorturemadthirstinggods-"

"They GOT IT. 'Sides, douchebags owe me for feeding me psyker bits while I was out."

"Wha-wha-WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?!"

The Emperor did not answer, only mouthing 'later' after pointing at the device that he had pressed against his eye.

Vorenus stared. Then turned away.

The Lord Commander Militant HAD to have something huge. Yes. That's right, a piece of Vorenus's head thought, you're going to go to the Lord Commander Militant and ask him if he has a gun big enough to shoot the GodfuckingEmperor of Manfuckingkind, and expect to actually put him down. Uh huh. Right. See how far that gets you.

The Lord Commander Militant of the Imperial Guard brightened at Vorenus. "Sure do!"

"A vortex grenade?"

"Yep! Instant death for all but the biggest of foes!"

"Well, uh," Vorenus coughed, stared down at the ball on the table, "How does it work?"

The old man picked up the sphere, and much to the horror of Vorenus, pushed forward something that made a click, then started sucking all the air in the room into, then chucked it into the far wall. For a moment, Vorenus saw the end of all things, an infinite black abyss that inflicted on him, not vertigo, something deeper, something, something indescribable that ran up and down his nerves- something, that though it left no mark, Vorenus was sure it had robbed something deep within him, something that he wished he could remember like a dream out of the morning light.

"Just like that!" The Lord smiled at Vorenus, as behind him, a ten meter radius of nothing collapsed in on itself, stealing everything that once was there.

"Uhhh, ooogghhh, wow, jeez- uh, how, where do you get these things?"

"Oh, I have a portal directly to the empty heart of Khorne! Say hello, Khorne!' The old man lifted up a red jewel the size of his fist that wheezed "your soul shall be my cod piece" as a way of greeting.

"Great. Well, now that I'm plotting against the God Emperor of Mankind I might as well just tack trafficking with the Dark Gods on my list. Now how do we get the vortex grenade to him?"

They planned.

The God Emperor of Mankind walked past his throne room with a cheerful whistle and spring in his step. The daemons were beaten back, the Adeptus Custodes tending to their wounded, preparing for another assault. The God Emperor of Mankind waved cheerily at his finest space marines, who returned a salute with one finger.

The God Emperor was feeling cheerful this morning- all was well. His keg had launched, he'd made his calls, and he could be, well, alive again! What more could he want?

He frowned. Company for one thing. Where was ever-

"Hey Emps!" Came from down the hall. Oh, Vorenus, the one who had awoken him.

" 'Sup, dongguzz-"

"Betcha five gelt you won't bite this!"

Some black sphere rolled down the hall to him. The God Emperor of Mankind considered it, then smiled, "ALRIGHT!"

It tasted a lot liAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH

"You...Fagsssss..."

The High Lords of Terra gathered around the mangled body of the God Emperor of Mankind, smiling at one another as the mess whistled insults through what may have once been a windpipe. Captain General of the Adeptus Custodes (As of late dubbed, "Brother Commodus") knelt by the fallen God.

"Oh great God Emperor of all Mankind!" Intoned the marine, "You have been harmed! Shall we take you to your throne?"

"Get...bent..."

Taken as a sign of assent, the group skipped along to the Throne, bearing the great figure among them. Vorenus was uncomfortable, holding one of the shoulders- the mangled face fell towards him, it's torn eye staring into his own.

"You...Cock...Bite...loving...drat it...Again..."
"We need the astronomicon to ensure the survival of the Imperium of Man," lectured Vorenus, glaring at him, before staring away, cowed, "It's a small sacrifice to pay."
"gently caress...you..." The God Emperor turned away from Vorenus, "Thought...This time... Astronom...So gay..." The thing wheezed, "Stuck...In nightmare...Thousands... So many...Daily...Killing themselves...for me..." The eye shut, "Like an avalanche...Of cocks...Fucker..."

Vorenus lagged behind the others, as the mighty one was brought up to his Throne.

The Emperor was once more set away to be healed- estimates placed it at a good 300 years before he'd be himself again. The Adeptus Custodes resolved to put some tape over the release button to prevent anybody else from wandering in and seeing the blinking green light, and letting the Emperor out again.

The only thing the Emperor managed to croak as he was being put away (Aside from calling everybody fags) was that he was expecting company. The Astronomicon was set back up, and the Imperium rejoiced.

Sixty days later though.

"And that is why Cadia exploded," Vorenus finished, staring at the two other members of the High Lords that had bothered to show up.

"So...We need a new Cadia?"

"No, no, Cadia is a PLANET you can't get ne-"
my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard

Vorenus frowned, glanced around. Some tinny, annoying face was ululating about dairy products and attracting children.

"What in the world is that?"

"I...I don't know," Vorenus turned around, set down to his hands and knees, as the refrain assured him that the singer's drinkers did indeed attract young men to her property- ah, there it is.

Vorenus lifted it up. It was the Emperor's device. A light on it was blinking. He glanced at the others, who shrugged. He pushed it. What was the worse that could happen?

"Yo, Big E? Big E there? Hey, my main man, what's crackin'! Got yo texts earlier- that Eye o' Terror poo poo more like the Eye o' Pussy rear end Bitches now motherfucker- yo, Big E? Big E? It's yo bro, Vulkan! Got Russ here too? Big E? Big E pick up the muddafuckin' phone, yo jokes is old, yo!"

"Ah, uhm, this is Vorenu-" He couldn't finish before the voice from the box interrupted him.

"Venereal? Listen muthafucka, I don't know how you got Big E's phone, but you best be getting Big E' afore me, and the rest of the motherfucking Primarchs come down! Now, you put Big E on the line, or yo rear end is gonna be intimate with grass, yaknowwhumsayin?"

Vorenus looked up slowly. The rest of the High Lords were nowhere to be seen.

"gently caress."

Meanwhile...

"So, uhm, the Emperor has been interred once more," The Warlock finished uncertainly, as Eldrad had already turned away, walking out under the night sky. Eldrad had proven true to his- his plots having ended satisfactorily in the Imperium being saved from the brink, yet not strong enough to be a threat, leaving Ulthwe surviving Hive Fleet Leviathan another ten thousand years. Eldrad grinned. And he got the Emperor back into his Throne. That was good too. A careful manipulation of a single human child blossoming four hundred years in the future- well, that was almost nothing to him.

"The Primarchs, I assume, are going to Terra?"

"Wh-Why yes, as per your instructions, we didn't stop them, that was right, right?"

"Yes, well," Eldrad smiled, turning to his companion, as behind him, a meteor blossomed, "We have to let him win one, don't we?"

"Uh, sir, behind-"

Eldrad turned- and a series of events happened. He misjudged just so where the meteor would land, due to a flash of light on gilded metal, he didn't react in time due to a whiff of something like alcohol, and he survived, but had his legs just open enough to-

Eldrad squeaked something, holding stock still, a corner of froth dribbling from his mouth before keeling over, the two shards of debris drifting down, bouncing in front of his face.

The warlock leaned over, squinting, "...'Sack'. And a spigot?"

"No..." Eldrad closed his eyes, shaking his head, "That's a tap."

Crane Fist posted:

Generations of concerned parents were right, WH40K really does rot your brain

Onmi posted:

The Rising Sons


Lazy Marines


Then there's some honestly pretty cool concepts like the Blood Jaguars

Lord_Magmar posted:

The greatest one in my opinion was when they decided to make the Lazy Marines an actual chapter. They came up with a Space Marine chapter with a malfunctioning Catalespian Node, instead of sleeping 3 hours for every 21 awake or something they instead cannot sleep by choice at all. Instead they can spend years at a time without any sleep and then fall asleep for years. To solve this problem the sleeping Marines are unlisted like the Blood Angels who have fallen to the Black Rage and then used as shock troops because they've trained to be combat capable even whilst asleep.

Yvonmukluk posted:

I think you're thinking of the Emperor's Nightmares.

Pimpmust posted:

Psha, Necrons could kill 'em cold along with the whole bloody warp.

Poil posted:

Not only are there Pretty Marines,

there are Chaos Pretty Marines.

Onmi posted:

EDIT: This isn't to say Gods can't die, Slannesh murderfucked most of the Eldar Gods. Just there's no real way to do it unless the Emperor flat out became a God.

Lord_Magmar posted:

The Necrons still don't use the warp. They can break into the webway but because they have no souls they cannot interact with the warp at all. They even still have all the warp destroying technology they just won't use it because they're constantly infighting and that plan was originally the C'Tan end goal and the Necrons hate the C'Tan almost as much as the Eldar at this point. Pretty sure the Necrons travel long distances using monoliths and than just letting them drift, it's not like they don't have billions of years to arrive, and faster movement uses some bullshit science magic drive that creates near infinite acceleration to go faster than light-speed or something.

Basically the biggest problem the Necrons have is unification, most of the other races have one big important leader or share an ideology that allows a level of coherence. The biggest leader of the Necrons is a depressed sack of crap who refuses to rule his people properly because he feels he is unworthy and so instead of one unified force there are hundreds of thousands of tiny empires ruled by Phaeronic Dynasties vying for control in futility because all of them are loving immortal now for all intents and purposes so it is impossible for any one Dynasty to gain a meaningful amount of power over any other because killing rivals is rarely permanent.

Hunter Noventa posted:

The explanation the old Battlefleet Gothic books gave was that they had some kind of Inertialess Drive. They get to go even faster in combat because they can just kick in their FTL drive anywhere basically.

I miss Battlefleet Gothic, I was much better at it than 40k.

Eimi posted:

I think part of the joke of the Pretty Marines is that they are loyalist Emperor's Children though, since Fulgrim is second only to Sanguinius in Bishie status.

Also the Imperial Truth was a loving stupid as poo poo way to fight to Chaos sadly. It didn't starve them enough, given that they are being of emotion first and foremost, and unless Big E turned humanity into Necrons, humanity would still feel emotions like pride, rage, desire, hope, despair and so on. Further that it left humanity totally and monumentally hosed when daemons first started showing up. It was bad. Even Space Marines could be unhinged by things like seeing blood letters initially just run at them despite taking a heavy bolter to the face. And of course in typical Chaos fashion, the way humanity was initially able to fight them? Started by a Chaos follower.

Lorgar was one of the Primarchs and basically founded the religion of the God Emperor. When the Primarchs were taken away by Chaos he landed on a world that was deeply religious, although they unknowingly worshiped aspects of the Chaos gods. However Lorgar had visions of a savior landing glad in gold armor, yadda yadda, it was Big E psychically calling out to his son. Anyway Lorgar got declared a heretic, had to fight a planet wide holy war and won, declaring the Emperor a god when he landed. Big E was pissed at this. When Lorgar wrote the bible of the Imperium, Big E responded in the most dickish way possible. The Ultrasmurfs sacked Lorgar's capital world, while the Emperor forced Lorgar and all his marines to watch, helpless. Lorgar in despair starts turning to the texts of the religion he reshaped, finding out about Chaos and becoming the first Primarch to fall.

But his Lectitio Divininatus was loved by a growing group of normal humans, and when daemons started appearing, those who professed faith in the Emperor or used holy icons could actually banish them. Part of why the Ecclesiarchy took such hold. It's hard to argue against religion when previously you had been atheists, literal demons appear, and only religious poo poo can stop them.

Just. As. Planned.

Lord_Magmar posted:

He wanted the Webway so his people could stop using the Warp for long distance travel. As far as I remember the only safer methods of FTL are the Necrons and the Tyranids for slightly different reasons and neither of those were around in large numbers when the Emperor was awake. The Necron method requires a hell of a lot of technological advancement and the Tyrand one only works for Tyranids because they can produce the required creature to create gravity wells for them to fall through. He was actually going to ask the Eldar nicely originally but then he spoke to Eldrad I think and Eldrad was of course a dick.

Cythereal posted:

However, a subtle theme of the Horus Heresy novels is the implication that the Imperium of Man may only have been a stepping stone for the Emperor, that his real plans did not end with the Great Crusade. He was trying to hijack the Webway for one thing.

hard counter posted:

Hah back when Space Marine was new I used the armor customizer to make chaos pretty marines as my chaos scheme. Black/purple/pink spikes looked really slick alltogether. I think Blind Sally sometimes uses a similar scheme called purple, yeah!

Blind Sally posted:

ARMY PAINTING?! HELL YEAH!!

Just throwin' out there, these are the paint schemes I rock when I play multi:


The standard Blind Sally colours represented by the "Pink Meat" colour scheme. Note: the icon is a heart.




I also use the Purple scheme from time to time.

Lord_Magmar posted:

He wanted the Webway so his people could stop using the Warp for long distance travel. As far as I remember the only safer methods of FTL are the Necrons and the Tyranids for slightly different reasons and neither of those were around in large numbers when the Emperor was awake. The Necron method requires a hell of a lot of technological advancement and the Tyrand one only works for Tyranids because they can produce the required creature to create gravity wells for them to fall through. He was actually going to ask the Eldar nicely originally but then he spoke to Eldrad I think and Eldrad was of course a dick.

Veloxyll posted:

Look, if anyone knows the risks, it's Eldrad. He knew full well what he was doing.

Hunter Noventa posted:

The explanation the old Battlefleet Gothic books gave was that they had some kind of Inertialess Drive. They get to go even faster in combat because they can just kick in their FTL drive anywhere basically.

I miss Battlefleet Gothic, I was much better at it than 40k.

Night10194 posted:

"Oh my, I should touch the center of this Slaanesh infested fortress, this will only result in good things for Eldrad!"

"Oh poo poo, Fulgrim, I need to warn you about something about Horus!"

Eldrad is not known for excellent decisions.

Eimi posted:

He also told his daughter Macha to be a virgin so she can marry the Emperor. And then the Emperor gets golden throned. Seriously in a setting full of massive dicks, Eldrad is in fact the biggest.

Blind Sally posted:

Well this is a first. Half my Honour Guard disappeared when I reloaded my save, despite the fact that ALL of them survived the Tyrea mission. I don't see this affecting the next mission too much, though. "Skilled" is Shas'o's name, after all.

Lord_Magmar posted:

They are clearly off hunting down Taldeer who is still on planet and hiding somewhere in your territories. Let them do their job quickly and efficiently so she may be brought to the judgement of the Ethereals for impeding the spread of the Greater Good, and being a stuck up know-it-all.