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This is the Liber Astartes, PART II


Shinzaren

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Olis strode the halls of the Liber, idly thumbing the activation clasp on his Volkite weapon - much was on his mind. Spending time in Limbo felt very much like awaiting a Pain Glove to activate. It was far better to take the pain and get on with it than to sit idle for what felt like months. The truth was, he had hated the time that was wasted. Of course, in hindsight, everything was clearer than it was at the time.

In the Halls themselves, Liberites went about their business, some nodding to him through deference of rank, others through familiarity. Here a marine in red and white armour with a red crown as heraldry, there another in grey and green sporting a draconic motif. He passed old faces and new on the way to the canteen. He could murder a steak and he didn't care how it was served.

Sat opposite Messor, who was bravely attempting to eat what looked like fish cooked in grox fat and mothballs, Olis accepted the welcome his fellow Mod had cheerily blurted out. There had been others who welcomed him back with gusto but none had been as mysterious, or graciously received, than when that strange group stood outside the Liber's gates offered their own reception. Strange though they may have been, he knew exactly who they were - Mods and Admins from lands far away. Glad to see you again, they had said. We have missed you, they said. We have work for you, they said.

What arrived at the table looked less like steak and more like porridge. The serf who had given him this... drek, grinned with pride. In place of a return smile, Olis looked at the 'food' and raised an eyebrow. It smelt like phosphex.

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Just a brief little story, brothers, just to herald my overdue return. msn-wink.gif

So, I hear a mention of creating a new thread - "This is Liber Astartes part III - The Return of the Dark Apostle" to be specific. Considering this thread is positively venerable by now (a three year veteran), does anyone wish for a new start?

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Criticising my food again? It ain't easy to be a chef, especially in a dark and damp place like this, you ungrateful nitwit! :lol:

 

Not too sure what the new plotline is all about, but why not? Maybe it's finally time to let this one rest and move on :)

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Well, I was a fussy child, you know. ^_^

 

I shall begin crafting the first post, then. Hopefully it'll have the same weight Shinzaren's did. I'll hopefully get it up before Christmas... 

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Well, I was a fussy child, you know. happy.png

I shall begin crafting the first post, then. Hopefully it'll have the same weight Shinzaren's did. I'll hopefully get it up before Christmas...

If we are going to have a completely fresh start, then perhaps a link to this topic at the start of the new one is in order so that we can look back if we need a laugh laugh.png
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"Is... Is he alive?"

 

"Dunno, but if he is then he does a damn good impression of a corpse."

 

Huh... Where...?

 

"And if he isn't? Shouldn't we inform the Astartes one of their own has croaked it down here?"

 

"Feth the Astartes, look at the gold and jewels on that armour! That gem on his left shoulder alone looks to be worth a fortune!"

 

What...? Astartes...

 

"Maybe, but what if one of them finds him later? What if they think WE killed'im?"

 

"How could they tell? They're warriors, not Inquisitors, they'd never find us."

 

I am... Astartes... Space Marine...

 

"They don't need to be with those, err, whatcha-call-em? Librarians? They're bloody psykers! They say one of those lot can see into a man's soul and pluck'is deepest, darkest secrets from his'ead and control ya thoughts!"

 

Librarian... Codicier...

 

"Grox droppings, the lot of it, they just say that to scare us serfs. Damn Space Marines, they may have formed the Legio but it's us mortals that keep this place running while they're off get drunk and swapping war stories like a bunch of stuck-up aristocrats playing soldier!"

 

The Legio... The Liber...

 

"Keep your voice down! Talk like that can get a man made into a servitor, and that's if you're luck- Wait, did he just..."

 

Both serfs scrambled away, shrieking in fear as the figure they had been discussing suddenly rose to his feet, dust and cobwebs falling from his armoured form like a light snow as he rubbed his forehead wearily. SanguiniusReborn groaned slightly as he took in his surroundings, he felt like he had been asleep for a month. Checking his armour's chronometer, he corrected himself, he HAD been asleep for a month.

 

"Oh Primarch's mercy, the Chaplains are gonna lock me in the Pain Glove and melta the key if they find out about this little beauty nap..."

 

He grimaced slightly as he pictured how his old Drill Sergeant from his neophyte days would berate him if he'd pulled this back then, a sense of nostalgia filling his thoughts, Tycho had been a hard son-of-a-grox... He shook his head, now was not the time for reminiscing.

 

"I should head back up to the Forums..."

 

At that, a rumbling growl that would have made a frenzied Ork pause emanated from within his armour.

 

"...Then again, I suppose I could go see if Ludovic has reclaimed the Culinarium for the Legio yet."

 

-----

 

IT LIIIIIIVVVVVEEEEESSSSS.

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A more detailed description of whatever the heck this is.

That'd be appreciated. smile.png

What, Limbo? I'm pulling a Dan Abnett on that one. happy.png

I was referring, in fact, to this whole thread.

Ah, I see. Umm... it's a mass collaboration, self-insert, self reference fiction that started out as semi-serious fiction about the Liber. I think.

Have you read the OP? It's really rather good.

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A more detailed description of whatever the heck this is.

That'd be appreciated. smile.png

What, Limbo? I'm pulling a Dan Abnett on that one. happy.png

I was referring, in fact, to this whole thread.

Ah, I see. Umm... it's a mass collaboration, self-insert, self reference fiction that started out as semi-serious fiction about the Liber. I think.

Have you read the OP? It's really rather good.

I was going to do an in depth reply, but this about sums it up laugh.png

However, I'm not going to apologise for writing the first part of the Typo Wars laugh.png

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I was going to do an in depth reply, but this about sums it up laugh.png

However, I'm not going to apologise for writing the first part of the Typo Wars laugh.png

EDIT:

For my part, I have no regrets.

Somehow deleted that on my first attempt at posting.wallbash.gif

Cormac, a word of warning.

This is quite possibly the weirdest thread on the B&C.

Emperor's sake, man, about a third of it is me writing about people I barely know and being threatened with various grizzly deaths.

In short, read this at your own peril.

Also, while I don't wanna be a naysayer, if we were to start a new thread, how exactly would it be different from this one?huh.png

Heck, I dunno how this one hasn't been shut down. It's not exactly a DIY Chapter/Warband/Order/Regiment/Other stuff.sweat.gif

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I was going to do an in depth reply, but this about sums it up laugh.png

However, I'm not going to apologise for writing the first part of the Typo Wars laugh.png

Cormac, a word of warning.

This is quite possibly the weirdest thread on the B&C.

Emperor's sake, man, about a third of it is me writing about people I barely know and being threatened with various grizzly deaths.

In short, read this at your own peril.

Also, while I don't wanna be a naysayer, if we were to start a new thread, how exactly would it be different from this one?huh.png

Heck, I dunno how this one hasn't been shut down. It's not exactly a DIY Chapter/Warband/Order/Regiment/Other stuff.sweat.gif

I think the Admin dudes rationalise this topic as being better than the random, weirdness spilling out everywhere else! laugh.png

Edit:

If we were to have part 3, I honestly think that if we went about it a little more...seriously*, it might be something to behold happy.png

*Remember that your serious isn't necessarily the same as my serious msn-wink.gif

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Also, while I don't wanna be a naysayer, if we were to start a new thread, how exactly would it be different from this one?huh.png

It adds closure to the whole Typo Wars thing and begins the next (attempt at) narrative afresh. Also, this thread is 38 pages long. It was a bugger to read when it was in it's 20's. This thread does meander a bit, mind you. happy.png

Heck, I dunno how this one hasn't been shut down. It's not exactly a DIY Chapter/Warband/Order/Regiment/Other stuff.sweat.gif

It's community building, for a start. There's certainly a camaraderie between the members who've chipped in here, as Liberites (or at least it feels that way). It also keeps the juices flowing.

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Scared would be the better choice.laugh.png

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Ace marched into the Culinarium, stumping along on his crutch. His expression was one of bewilderment and outrage.

"Alright, that's the second time in as many months. I'm gonna trash that stupid oven."

His fellow Liberites glanced up from their meals. In the case of one or two of the more unfortunate ones, their meals tried to use this opportunity to fight back or escape. Ace continued ranting.

"I get the damn cast taken off, everything's back to normal, and I start working on my new bike. Then POW! I'm stood back outside here, moments before Shinzaren dropped the power field generator he was carrying right on my foot." Ace growled. "My leg's back in it's cast, broken worse than a Heldrake's rules, and then I get a dirty great engine dropped on it."

The other Liberites watched with amusement as Ace slammed a cupboard door open and started rummaging inside.

"But that's fine, I'm a Veteran, I've had worse injuries. And then, two months later, I'm sitting down to get the bloody cast taken off again, and everything goes funny again. And guess where I wind up, for the third =][=CURSE REDACTED=][=ing time?"

Ace withdrew from of the cupboard, a plasma rifle gripped in one hand, and the light of battle in his eyes.

"I knew I shouldn't have listened to DAT and Aquilanus. 'Oh no, Ace, we need to plug in this salvaged thing from Hall Eight. No, don't worry about it only being visible in two dimensions, that's perfectly =][=CURSE REDACTED=][=ing normal.' "

Ace stumped around the counter and into the back room of the Culinarium. Ludo was stood there, surveying what, according to the recipe book, should have been an omelette. It looked like a section of tank track baked in slime. He shrugged at Ace.

"Something's up with the oven again. Any ideas on how to fix it?"

Ace grinned the grin of someone who'd been waiting years to use a line and had just been fed the perfect opportunity. He pointed the Plasma Rifle at the un-natural oven's heart.

"Well, there's your problem," Ace said, brightly, and pulled the trigger.

There was a pop, and a sensation of inrushing air. Suddenly, everything went dark for a moment. When Ace got his vision back, he was in the corridor outside the Culinarium, staring at a now very familiar power field generator, as it began to plummet towards his leg.

"=][=CURSE REDACTED=][=!"

Ace marched into the Culinarium, stumping along on his crutch. His expression was one of bewilderment and outrage.

"Alright, that's the third time in two months. I'm gonna trash that stupid oven."

The Liberites exchanged glances.

"Has he said that before? I think he's said that before," Cambrius mused as Ace gestured to Olisredan, who was prodding what looked like charred, semi-liquefied hyena flank around on his plate with a puzzled expression.

"Moderati, I'm gonna need to borrow your Volkite for a moment. This calls for escalation."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

I forsee a quest for a new oven in the near future. whistlingW.gif

I haven't worked out the best way to kill this one yet, but it's just a matter of time.teehee.gif

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Shinzaren strode down the long hallways of the Liber Astartes, quietly enjoying the sights, sounds, and smells of his brothers-in-arms. Nearly two years deployed away from the Liber had left him with a severe sense of nostalgia. So severe in fact that he never really blinked or questioned the massive explosion coming from the Culinarium, or Ace's shouted expletives. It just seemed familiar to him. He supposed that the Typo Wars had wrapped up, and that the Space Wolves he had met earlier had returned home to their own rowdy barracks. He stuck his hands into the large molded durasteel and plasteel pockets of his leg armor and whistled a jaunty tune as he strolled the halls, waving hello to his fellow brothers. All in all, it was good to be back.

 

"Sergeant!" His reverie broken, Shinz turned around to see Olisredan addressing him.

 

"Oli!" Shinz said heartily, extending his hand out before he noticed the black tinted glasses and gold-plated melta at the hip of his old friend. Across his back, a mighty power hammer was slung, with the letters B, A, and N carved across the head in glowing runes. It appeared that someone had gotten a promotion in his absence. Shinz quickly transformed his outstretched hand into a more formal salute, "I mean, sir Oli."

 

Olisredan dismissed his salute quickly and gestured for the Sons of Lightning Sergeant to walk to him down the halls. "I'll be straight with you Sergeant, a lot has changed since you've been gone. Wars have been fought. Good men lost, and good men gained. You may need to adjust to the new rhythm of the place. Go find Tech-Sergeant Debonair and have him bring you up to speed. Also, find Aquilanus and Battle-Brother Ludovic, and request the presence of Dark Apostle Thirst as well. I'll need the 5 of you for a special mission."

 

"Sir." Shinz replied with a sharp salute, "Might I inquire as to the nature of our mission?"

 

"Let's just say it's time to shake things up in the Liber, Sergeant. Big things are afoot. Big things and big deeds." Olisredan gave a sideways glance and chuckle. " They'll sing songs about this one Sergeant, make no mistake about that. Now go, round up those men. And tell Ace he's had 3 hours to heal his blasted leg. How much more does he need? I thought he was a Space Marine, not a bloody PDF pup. Baahh" With that the mighty warden turned and went on his way, mumbling under his breath about Ace's leg. Shinz couldn't make out all of it, but he was sure he heard the words 'creative ways to avoid working' and 'fake broken leg gag.' Unsure what that was all about, Shinz decided the best thing to do would be to follow orders, and find Ace, though the mere thought of the 'Haphazard' Techmarine only brought up an old ache in his chest where Ace had once smashed him with a Legio Board of Combative Actions-issue power axe. Ah, the good old days, back when the Axes weren't just for juggling and slicing up Ludo's hearty mystery meat omelets.

 

On his way, Shinz swung by the armory and picked up his newly refurbished power glaive, his Legio Board of Combative Actions-issue power axe, and his flamethrower, a gift from his old commander, Dark Apostle Thirst. When dealing with rogue Techmarines with a habit of smashing first and fixing later, one could never be too careful. After a bit of deliberation, he also grabbed his brightly colored and savagely plumed hat, a gift from old Ace Debonair himself. It was a poor comparison to Ace's magnificent Phoenix feathered hat, which pulsed different colors depending on his mood, but it's weight felt good.

 

Properly armed and armored, Shinz set off in search of his former mates, unsure where, or when, he might find them all.

 

 

 

EDIT:

 

Also, when asking what this thread is, I don't think that there is a good answer. It started out as a sort of love letter from myself to the Liber as a whole, as it is easily the best place to spend your hours. However, it quickly, very very quickly grew into something more, something better. It's a free place for everyone to spin little stories that make you feel better, feel welcome, and feel a part of something. The rule of the thread, if there is one, is simple. Respect your mates. The thread is for everyone, but it only works as long as the teasing and the jabs never get to real or too mean. Just keep it light, blow off some steam, and have a good time. Read through the old stories and try to keep up with them all. See if there is something you would like to add, and add it. But more than anything, have a good time with it. Those are my two cents and my impressions of the thread, and of the Liber as a whole really haha. Everyone takes something different from it though, Cormac, so what you get out of it is up to you!

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"OK. So that's Meltas, Volkites, Plasma weapons, Grav Weapons, Lascannons, Heavy Flamers, bolt pistols, a steel chair, a frag grenade, a krak grenade, a codex-approved Throwing-Chainaxe, a melta bomb, two minutes sustained heavy bolter fire, a thunder hammer, a bowling ball, a wrench, crashing a landspeeder into it, Heru hitting it with his infamous Spine-flail and trying to switch the accursed thing off at the wall."

 

Ace frowned as he double checked his list of experiments in oven destruction.

 

"Nope, I've tried everything except a Vindicator at this point. Always the same result, me outside getting my shins broken by falling Power Field Generators. I'm open to ideas, here, lads."

 

Cambrius scratched his head in puzzlement.

 

"Why not just leave it?"

 

"Oh no," Ace shook his head. "This is personal now. No inanimate, Machine-spiritless arcane cooking implement gets to break my leg upwards of thrice without me getting revenge."

 

 

"Oh." Cambrius shrugged. "Sorry, then. I'm out of ideas. You already tried hitting it, didn't you?"

 

"I did. What I need is something powerful enough to destroy the whole thing at once. It might not work, but it'll be therapeutic as anything."

 

"You could always ask a mod for one of the Vortex Grenades," SanguiniusReborn volunteered.

 

There was a moment of pristine silence, wherein Ace grinned the grin of someone about to raise merry hell on an unsuspecting kitchen appliance. Ludovic's voice could be heard from behind the counter.

 

"Not in my Culinarium, for Emperor's sake!"

 

But his pleas fell on deaf ears as Ace stumped briskly out of the Culinarium, the pain in his leg all but forgotten. Let's see that infernal oven cook up a way out of this one, he chuckled to himself as we went in search of Olisredan and hopefully access to the Liber Armoury.

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"Please?" Ace asked again.

 

"No." Came the reply again.

 

"Just one?" He tried. Olis looked at him as if he was suggesting a communal leg shave.

 

"No. Vortex grenades won't only make your problem disappear but they might make you, me and several other brothers vanish into the warp too." 

 

"But..." Ace had the face of a child denied his favourite toy in favour of bath-time.

 

"Look, Ace, here's the key to the confiscation cabinet. Go grab that Ork Tellyporta gun thing and put it back when you're done. You have one hour to get this key back to me." Olis held out the key. As Ace reached out to take it from him, he held it back. "No shenanigans." He said pointedly.

 

"You got it." Was all that he heard as the Liberite pounded his way down the halls towards the confiscation cabinet, key in hand. It wasn't really a cabinet and there was more than just contraband in there. The grin that crept across his face entirely belied what Olis knew how Ace would find out. He'll be fine. Probably. 

 

Would an hour be enough?

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Shenanigans? Me? Perish the thought.pirate.gif

Heru, don't worry, I'll make sure the spine-flails are well looked-after. Partly because they're awesome weapons, and partly because I don't want you to test your new weapon on me *.

Olis**, I'd expand on your story but I have absolutely no idea what you've got in mind.sweat.gif

My story-goal really is for someone to vortex grenade that 'oven' into non-existence. And although it doesn't have to be me throwing the grenade, if anyone wants to volunteer, I'd like to write up what happens next.

...Not that I have any plans or anything.

* I know it's inevitable, I just don't want it to happen.sweat.gif

** Is it Olis or Oli for short? I don't want to be using the wrong abbreviation.ermm.gif

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Shenanigans? Me? Perish the thought.pirate.gif

Oh, that's okay then. I'll just turn my back for a few minutes... whistlingW.gif

Olis**, I'd expand on your story but I have absolutely no idea what you've got in mind.sweat.gif

You can do exactly what you like with it, brother. I pretty much treat this thread as a mass exercise in improv. ;)

My story-goal really is for someone to vortex grenade that 'oven' into non-existence. And although it doesn't have to be me throwing the grenade, if anyone wants to volunteer, I'd like to write up what happens next.

Perhaps you can... oh, I dunno... 'tellyport' into the Liber Armoury? wink.png

** Is it Olis or Oli for short? I don't want to be using the wrong abbreviation.ermm.gif

Olis is what I refer to myself (well, my online self, anyway) and Olisredan is my current formalised handle. In regular conversation Oli or Olis will do just fine although if the tone needs to be serious, saying Oli probably isn't the right choice. :)

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"This can't be happening. It just can't be."

 

First Ace had come blundering in, raving about the Culinarium's oven, cursing like a drunken sailor. He then proceeded to shoot it with a plasma rifle that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere (though strangely, the oven didn't seem damaged in the slightest and Ace had inexplicably disappeared during the short blackout after the gun went off). Blundering back in after a short while, he had demanded that Olisredan hand over his Volkite weapon. Why didn't he just ask the Moderati if he could borrow the keys of Section 42 or the BanHammerTM while he was at it? Along with rumours of Shinzaren's return among the Liberites and Ace's wish to also use a vortex grenade in the Culinarium for Emperor-knows-what reason, it was all proving to be a very chaotic series of events that Ludovic had difficulty following and making him quite grumpy.

 

"I think I'll go and sit with Apothete in the crypts for a while. At least it's calm down there and I'll be safe from all of this damned madness!"

 

As he walked out of the kitchens and into the main Culinarium hall, he could see various Astartes running after their plates of "food", with the obvious intent of catching the devious little things. The sight made him chuckle... until he saw Olisredan and Ace talking in one corner of the room, a plate of unfinished something sitting on the table close-by. As Ludovic watched, the Moderati handed a small key over to the mad Techmarine who was sporting the most glee-filled smile that he had ever seen.

 

"Oh no..."

 

Before he could utter another word, Aquilanus, who had failed to notice the cook standing in his way while he was running after his meal, collided with him, sending them both crashing into a table occupied by a pack of Space Wolves who had popped by for a short visit and a tankard each of Culinarium-brewed ale. Needless to say that the sudden interruption, along with the stinking ale and some unidentifiable slime coating their beards, was not at all welcome. As one and howling like demented dogs, they jumped onto the two Liberites, intent on avenging their soiled facial hair and split broth.

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Blasted meal!

 

Aquilanus had no wish to tax his Preomnor more than usual, but needs must. The gelatinous blob that was to be his victuals was as stubborn as a Son of Dorn.

 

I told you we should have gotten take out!

 

Take out?! None of the fething take away companies will come within a quadrant of this place after the last time anyone ordered a pizza. Remember the carnage trying to decide the toppings?!

 

Bah! No pizza is complete without Kraken bitz!

 

Grahh!

 

I still refuse to eat anything that isn't sanctified!

 

And yet you didn't complain when we ate that Cocoa bar!

 

That was..!

 

Enough! We nearly had it that time!

 

Preoccupied as he was, Aquilanus hadn't failed to notice the increased hubbub in the Culinarium. The Moderatii was back, and whilst it was good to see him back amongst the denizens of the Liber, he was another to keep tabs on. Things had gone to feth in a hand basket lately and there was no doubt that Olisredan would be vigilant. There was still a lot of things that hadn't been resolved. Not that that was a problem. Time was...mutable in the Liber. Aquilanus had also noticed Ace's one Marine vendetta against a cooking device and his subsequent pleas for a Vortex grenade.

 

Good luck to him if he thinks that will solve anything.

 

Grab it!

 

Too late that he noticed Ludovic in his path. Spinning from the impact, both collided with a table. Condiments of every conceivable kind went skyward and inevitably over them. The occupants of the table was less than amused, sons of Russ all.

 

Whilst I love a fight as much as anyone, I think our Brother from the Reavers should handle this.

 

Graaaaah!

 

Seeing the Space Wolves pounce, Aquilanus bunched his fists together, intent on making the first blow.

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