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Grumb Slanger, boarding the lander Grumb kicks up a clod of ash and dirt as he steps over the fallen techpriest, spitting on the pile of charred slag triumphantly. "Tha'll learn ye what's comes ta folks what's mess wif' de Scrunts," he mutters. He takes a look around at the pack of scrunts that has convened upon the landing pad, finally catching sight of his commanding officer. "Sarge! Ay Gumbo, there you is! 'sworried you dinna fine yer way back to the -" "GHUGGOOOO," the vile, mutated form of the sergeant hollers back to him in a disturbing monotone . His neck rotates 200 degrees to meet Grumb's gaze, and a terrifying rictus spreads across his face. Grumb stammers, unsure of what's different about his commander. "Ehh, uh, right! Dang'ol, Sergeant Chuggo! How silly I forgotta thing like that." He takes a few steps toward the lander, muttering "Stupid Gumb can'even amember 'is own Sarge some days" as his psyche continues to fracture. He takes a big whiff of the ambience - the smell of burning promethium and molten steel mixes with acrid hues of scrunt waste and boiled flesh in a curiously comforting way. Grumb wished it could smell this way all the time. He nearly trips over a fallen rock as he plods his way onto the lander with the rest of the scrunts. Reaching down to huck it at Yurik, Grumb realizes that it was not a rock he'd tripped over but a skull. He runs his hands over a charred panel on the side and its red eyes blink to life. "Well what's all this now," Grumb smiles as the servo-skull begins to spin up. It whirrs anxiously as its sensors scan the hulking scrunt, and for a moment Grumb could swear he sees fear in its eyes. There's something familiar about this skull, Grumb thinks, tucking it under his arm as he boards the aquila lander. --------------------------- Grumb has found a servo skull, which will basically just be a floating flashlight/toolbox to assist him with general maintenance and recon. This will help make up for the fact that Grumb can't remember who his companion is anymore.
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Nov 18, 2016 21:24
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| # ¿ May 15, 2024 08:27 |
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Grumb Slanger, crew cabin Grumb stares in awe at the expositional deluge unfolding before him. The wheels in his head have never spun this hard, never been stripped so bare. He falls deep into thought, mulling over everything that is coming to light. "So we was... so all'a scrunts got made by humans? But that dunna make sense. Grumb Slanger he been made by Mama Slanger. Dangol, ain't no humey she wasn't. But then, if mamaslang ain't no human, and grumb slang he been made by humans, that must mean... Grumbslang he other mama must REALLY be..." "HIM!" Grumb points, eyes wide. He blinks, suddenly realizing that the holographic message had ended minutes ago and most of the scrunts had dispersed. He looks around the cabin, then back to his companions. Barry sits patiently as Guy carefully screws Grumb's heavy stubber into position within his primary chest socket. "Oh hey Guy," Grumb says, "Y'catch all that what's 'e said?" "Yeah Grumb," Guy says as he looks up from the oily, headless refurb servitor. "We all was made by the one guy, but now we need to yell at space because there's a buncha bugs an' they is making fun of us, but they should be making funna the other guys instead so we gotta shoot the big slam-bullet at the governor's chair so then I'ma be in charge of everything. Only now I think we's all gonna go see the other guy what's made all the scrunts now." "RIGHT! Yeah, thas' just what I was saying!" Grumb violently pats the gun-servitor on the back, ejecting a single casing from its neck hole. "When we sees that guy who is our other mama, we'll teach him to run out on good ol' mama slanger! Ain' that right, Barry?" "INSERT AMMUNITION AND DESIGNATE ENEMY," Barry asserts stoically. "Hah hah! You was always the funny one, cousin Barry." Grumb says, reaching for a fresh magazine. "Oh, thanks," Guy says. ----------------------- I also vote for lab deck. I think it would be fun to launch a missile that transforms the planet into a radioactive shithole. Then again, if the Tyranids are coming, maybe that's not enough to keep our society safe. Maybe the only way to beat them is to join them? I guess what I'm saying is that we should make Pernicious Kreb the new Governor. Ignite Memories fucked around with this message at 22:29 on Nov 29, 2016 |
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Nov 29, 2016 22:26
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Grumb Slanger, cockpit Grumb cranks his melta into gear as the alarms begin to sound. He grimly draws a bead on the incoming missiles through the viewport and - "NO!" Guy says, jumping on Grumb's back. Grumb's face smashes into the glascrete window and he staggers back, falling on his rear end. On the way down, his head cracks against the bulkhead and he loses consciousness. ---------- "poo poo!" Barry yells, scrambling out from underneath Grumb's ammunition pack. He smacks Grumb in the face lightly. "Grumb?! Grumb!!" Sweat beading down from his face, he turns to his other companion. "poo poo, Barry, cuzzin Grumb's out like a light! W-w, What should we do!?" "INSERT AMMUNITION AND DESIGNATE ENEMY," Barry asserts stoically. ----------- Guy rolls Athletics (Str) to momentarily incapacitate Grumb, then Barry rolls untrained Deceive (Fel) to convince Barry that everything is going to be alright.
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Dec 21, 2016 20:48
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Grumb Slanger, Heavenly Fist Grumb, Guy and Barry trudge along, searching for outlets as they make their way through the tunnel. "Hey Murdy, ain't you wanna come with us?" Grumb calls back. "KEEP GOING. I'LL BE RIGHT BEHIND YOU," Murdelia's voice crackles loudly from behind. ----------------------- Rolling Common Lore: Imperial Guard vs 26 to think of logical places one might keep an outlet / power cell around here.
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Jan 16, 2017 00:48
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Grumb Slanger, Heavenly Fist Grumb follows his trusty companion Grug, staring glassy-eyed down the corridor as he walks. The smell of livestock wafts into his feculent little nostrils, and his stomach gurgles loudly. "Mm-MM, tal'bout now whatchoo found 'ere, Grug?" Grumb asks, approaching the hole and peering down. A confused smile spreads on his face as he scans the herd. "Whatever 'at thing is, there sure is a buncha him." Grumb says. He gestures at the grox with his multimelta. "Anyscrun' hungry?" ------------------------------------------- Voting we check out the grox. Hopefully they are not full of tyranid eggs.
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Feb 6, 2017 02:11
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Grumb Slanger, Heavenly Fist "Wuhobbout - whawazzat?" Grumb whirls around, certain that he heard something. His lip quivers as his animal instincts detect something terrifying in the air. "Quick, hide!" he whispers loudly to his companions, and then dives into the rotting heap of mycoprotein like a big horrific pile of leaves.
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Feb 17, 2017 23:34
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Grumb Slanger, hiding in compost Grumb gasps at the sight of the shambling metallic beasts headed his way. He coughs, swallows a mouthful of mycoprotein and draws a bead on the Flayed Ones as best he can from inside the heap. ------------------- Going on overwatch to fire at the southern flayed ones as soon as they're clearly visible. If there's a way to hit more than one with the blast that would be ideal.
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Mar 27, 2017 00:10
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Grumb Slanger, hiding in compost Grumb feels so safe right now. Hiding out here in a rotting pile of compost feels right to him. He feels so safe and warm. Grumb blinks woozily, beginning to nod off in the pile of decomposing biomaterial. Maybe he should just take a quick nap, and he'd be right back to work as soon as he... as soon as... "NO!" Grumb yells, thrashing and stomping his way out of the seductive heap. "I AM ALIVE!" He blasts his multimelta wildly in the direction of the flayed ones to the south. ------------------- shoot a necron: 1d100 36 2d10+16 30 for my attack+damage roll should beat my TN at such short range, even without any bonuses from barry. Ignite Memories fucked around with this message at 14:45 on Apr 23, 2017 |
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Apr 22, 2017 20:20
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DOWN JACKET FETISH posted:grumb murders - MURDERS!! - the necron that attacked chuggo. i didn't notice you had target selection so i was going to assume you went for the northern one instead, but eh.
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May 1, 2017 22:22
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| # ¿ May 15, 2024 08:27 |
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Grumb Slanger, heap-adjacent Grumb's jaw goes slack as the destroyer hovers menacingly into view. poo poo, he thinks, eying the alien propulsors that guide its skeletal frame over the grungy terrain. Groin is gonna be so embarrassed when he sees this guy's hoverboard. He points the nozzle of his multimelta at the destroyer, and nods his head toward Guy. "Dangol, -" he begins. "Got it, Grumb!" Guy calls back, dropping to a defensive position among the mycoprotein as he readies his scrunt-rifle. Grumb smiles, draws a bead on the largest necron, and fires. ------------------------------------------ Bernie (Multimelta - Heavy / 60m / s/-/- / 2d10+16E / pen12 / clip12 / rld Full / Melta, Blast1) @ 42m TN = BS 50 + aim 10 + comrade volley 5 + 0 (range modifier) = 65 shoot destroyer: 1d100 79
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May 18, 2017 00:55
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