This is the Liber Astartes, PART II

[Nomus Sardauk]

An idea strikes!

 

But I think I might feel like a jerk if I went through with it . . . 

 

Bah. Like that's ever stopped me before. Stay tuned!

 

http://www.quickmeme.com/img/5e/5e9ff68b80101f64fdccb046142332fb3e4071f80a7b655c88278e555df0b867.jpg

[Conn Eremon]

Rise of the Cormacs

 

The darkness disappeared, replaced with a sudden, intense light. The two Cormacs winced and blinked rapidly against the bright light. When their eyes adjusted, they found that they were surrounded by more Cormacs. Not just another couple or a few more Cormacs.

 

There were hundreds. One of nearby Cormacs raised a finger and pointed at one of the newly arrived pair.

 

“You. What’s the first number to pop in your head?”

 

“Uhm. 427?”

 

The Cormac who had pointed nodded sagely. “Good. You’re the last two then. That means the purpose for which we have been gathered will reveal itself.”

 

As if on cue, a blue light appeared on the ceiling. The Cormacs strained their heads upwards as it spread outwards, leaving a clear, mirror-like surface. Within it could be seen another Cormac peering down on them. There were a few brief spurts of sound like feedback over a bad vox.

 

“Is this thing on? Good. Wasn’t sure if I was reading Ace’s notes correctly. Now that I have you all gathered, I’ve got some grave news for you all and we don’t have much time. I’ve been hopping onto this machine that one of our own was using to communicate with his past self. Thing is, it seems he has only been looking backward. Going off of the information he had uncovered, it appears that he had learned of a device that the Moderati Olisredan was holding onto that would seal the Fractures.”

 

“Well, that sounds like a good thing.”

 

“We should locate them to make sure that they—“

 

“Not finished.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“So like I said, one of our own, Ace, was using this device to check out on the past, and make sure the best chance of his present is realized. But, he didn’t use the device to look far enough into the future to find out that it is, in fact, only a temporary patch on one reality’s Fractures. That realiy is protected during that time, however the other realities will continue to obliterate themselves. The energy build-up from so much destruction will rupture the patch es, unleashing all this pent up energy will then obliterate this, the last reality, almost immediately. Really, all it does is give that reality an extra 4.37 years by my calculations. Give or take 4.37 years. What am I, a Techmarine?”

 

“So you gathered us all together to . . . stop them? Isn’t an extra few years better than nothing?”

 

“The issue is that Ace has convinced them that this is their only means of saving reality. You need to find them and convince them otherwise. There’s still a chance that an actually permanent fix will be found. You all need to make sure that one is actually being sought. Now go, you don’t have much time!”

 

The blue light flickered and disappeared. For a moment, awkward silence reigned in the large room as the many Cormacs soaked in this new information. One of them took in a deep breath to say something, but was interrupted by blue light flickering into existence against one of the far walls and the sound of feedback.

 

“Is this thing on? Good. Wasn’t sure if I was reading Ace’s notes correctly. Now that I have you all gathered, I’ve got some grave news for you all and we don’t have much time. I’ve been hopping onto this machine that one of our own was using to communicate with his past self. Thing is, it seems he has only been looking backward. Going off of the information he had uncovered, it appears that he had learned of a device that the Moderati Olisredan was holding onto that would seal the Fractures.”

 

“And that’s a bad thing that we must stop.”

 

“Yes! So glad I won’t have to explain then that the gadget is the incorrect device.”

 

“Right, you just told us it only creates a temporary patch. We were about to head out and warn them about that.”

 

“What? No, it does nothing! And this is the first time I have appeared to you all. The issue is that it isn’t the right gadget. The one the Moderati has is from one of the other realities. Meaning it will only work in that reality.”

 

“You’re right, that makes perfect sense.”

 

“Of course it does. That’s obvious, isn’t it? So what you guys need to do is find this reality’s gadget and use that to seal the Fractures in this reality.”

 

“Are you sure it’s permanent? What if it’s only a temporary fix that will be overwhelmed in 4.37 years time?”

 

“What are you, from the idiot reality? Of course it’s permanent! I went forward trillions of years to confirm that. You just need to make sure that they find the right gadget before attempting to apply the fix. If you use the wrong reality’s, it will only tear the Fractures wider. Now go, you don’t have much time!”

 

The blue light flickered and disappeared again. This time, one of the Cormacs was quicker on the draw.

 

“Okay, we at least know that we need to get to Ace and Olisredan to warn them of their plan’s faults and work with –“

 

Blue light flickered.

 

“OH GOD DAMN IT.”

 

“Is this thing on? Good. Wasn’t sure if I was reading—“

 

“Just get to the point!” Yelled approximately 224 Cormacs simultaneously.

 

“ . . . Wow. Okay, apparently I’m the only Cormac from a polite reality. Anyway, I called you all here to warn you about Brother Argos’ plans to destroy all of the realities.”

 

“WHAT!?” Yelled approximately a lot more Cormacs.

 

“Yeah, I know. Turns out one of the alternate realities has one just plain mean Brother Argos. He sent Ace on a bit of a fool’s errand, convincing him that the only means to save all of the realities was to use a device the Moderati Olisredan has been holding to. Except, it’s a lie. It’s actually a device that speeds up the process, stripping away what few defenses the realities have. In essence, cause the obliteration of all realities in pretty short order.”

 

“Why would he do that? What possible reason could Brother Argos have? He’s in the to-be-destroyed realities.”

 

“Turns out, he’s not. He’s got something that will protect him from all this destruction. He seems to have some plan of making a new reality from the ashes of all the others. One of his onw making. I didn’t get a chance to look too deeply at his blueprints. Something about a ‘collegia.’ Anyway, what’s important is that you need to find Ace and Olisredan and prevent them with going through with the evil Brother Argos’ plan. Now go, you don’t have much time!”

 

The blue light flickered and disappeared again, again. The Cormacs stood silent for a few minutes, waiting for another flicker of blue lights. Nothing happened.

 

“Rrrright. Well. Which one of those were true?”

 

“All of them.”

 

“None of them.”

 

“Pretty sure the second one was false, and the third one only partially true.”

 

“I suppose the thing we can all agree on is that we have to stop Ace and Olisredan from accidentally destroying everything.” The Cormacs nodded in agreement.

 

“We should split up, maybe into four groups, to hunt them down. I’ll lead one of them. It makes sense, because I was the Cormac who thought of the idea of having leaders.”

 

“I’l l lead one of the others, since I’m the first to show the ambition of just wanting to be a leader.”

 

“Well, I suppose that means I’ll lead the third group, because I’m the kind of Cormac that would prefer to be part of a smaller demographic.”

 

“I’l l be the last leader. I uh . . . I don’t have a reason why.”

 

“We need to call ourselves something unique to differentiate us. Since I’m lugging this heavy auto-cannon around, you guys can call me Cannon Cormac. You ambitious one. I remember you saying off-screen that you’re a devoted follower of the Dark Lord, the once and future Warmaster. So I’ll call you Codex Cormac.”

 

“I guess since I just wanted to be part of this small group, I’ll go by Co-op Cormac.”

 

“Call me the Dornian Cormac. I still don’t have a reason for you.”

 

“What do we do if they don’t believe us?”

 

“It’s simple. Kill the Moderati.”

 

“Blunt. Maniacal. Brutal. I like it.”

 

“There’s certainly enough of us to take them all on, if it comes down to it.”

 

“Our assault Cormacs will blot out the sun!”

 

“. . . We’re underground. Future Cormac #2 was right, you are from the idiot reality.”

 

----------++++++++++----------++++++++++----------++++++++++----------

 

 

Considering how tired I am now as I post this, and how tired I was when I started writing about half an hour ago, I have a feeling I will regret it come morning.

 

Ah well. I like to live dangerously. How badly can I regret a giant wall of dialogue?

[Olis]

Shimmering, iridescent, glistening. Each word described the portal before him both accurately and not. Such was the nature of these things, really - tears in space-time rarely stood up to easy analysis. It was the first one they had found that had remained open for longer than a few minutes. That must have meant it was one of the more permanent Fractures.

So. What was he to do? Just touch it with the device?

 

Olis drew out the ball from the pouch he regularly kept it in, careful not to drop it like he did last time. It's not like it had mattered much - by the time he picked it up again, the Fracture had dissipated. That was what felt like a day ago, stood above giant, electricity-wreathed generators on a gantry. Here, in what appeared to be a storage warehouse for non-perishable foodstuffs, they had found a Fracture sitting in front of shelves upon shelves of blue fluid-filled bottles.

"Don't bugger it up, this time." Ace snarked. Deathspectre slowly reached behind the Techmarine and slapped him upside the head. That earned Deathspectre a dirty look. Yes, they were fatigued and yes, they were in need of a good hot meal.

 

"Knock it off." Aquilanus grumbled. At least he was still capable of keeping the other two in check. That was what Moderati did, besides keeping the halls of the Liber somewhat in order. Ball held out toward the portal to another dimension, Olis carefully inched forward. Who knew what would happen when one of these things closed? For all he knew, they might explode. 

"Stop!" Came a bellow off to the Moderati's right. He reflexively turned his head, seeing Cormac. Finally, he thought, I could do with someone with a new perspective. Olis realised one small problem. Behind this Cormac, running pell mell towards him, followed a few dozen other Cormacs. All sprinting towards him.

 

"Uh, Cormac..." This felt very wrong.

 

"Drop the ball!" Very wrong.

 

"Cormac..." He had a sinking feeling.

 

"Drop it!" That this would hurt.

 

"Wait! Corm-" Was all he could manage before being tackled to the ground by several Cormacs at once. The pressure increased as several more Cormacs jumped on top the scrum, weighing the Moderati down firmly. It felt like a truck had parked on his chest. He looked at the closest face in the pile on top of him, a gaunt version of Cormac enshrouded by a psychic hood. The face grinned.

 

"So uh... is there a problem, Cormac?" He managed, wheezing out of his crushed lungs.

 

"Yes!" Several responded. Out of the pile, a voice snapped. "Shut up! Shut up! I'm the leader! I get to talk! Now then. Olis."

 

"Yes Cormac?" Olis gasped.

 

"Codex Cormac!" Came the correction. "We need to differentiate ourselves somehow, you know."

 

"Okay..." This was not his Cormac. Cormac might have been succinct at times but this guy was a whole new ball game. He sounded... petulant. Well, not petulant, just bad-tempered. 

 

"Don't close the Fractures. It's imperative that you don't get that device anywhere near the Fractures."

 

"Why?"

 

"Oblivion! 4.37 years after you shut the Fractures we all go poof. Oblivion." A hand in the pile of Cormacs flexed as if to mime oblivion itself happening. The Moderati needed to get these Cormacs off of him if he was to converse properly. He began to free his arms. Above him his compatriots began to pull the uppermost Cormacs off the pile.

 

"Then how do we stop the space-times of each reality from wearing out?" A clatter and some free movement proved that one of his arms was free. 

 

"I don't know! We'll figure that out on the way!"

 

"With this many Cormacs in one reality, this one will wear out fast, I'm guessing." Movement caught Olis' eye. The hand he had freed was the one holding the device. Well, it had been holding the device...

 

The ball rolled, oh so slowly, into the portal. The portal itself was sucked downwards, into the clockwork machinery, with a sound akin to someone finishing a drink with a straw. Librarian Cormac began to scream, clutching his head and wrenching himself to get out of the scrum. It was as if a fire had been lit under his feet. With blood pouring from his nose, eyes and ears he finally calmed down. His breathing was shallow. It had been his reality that had been closed or, if the story was true, obliterated. 

[Nomus Sardauk]

For ease of reading and to avoid confusion:

Normal SanguiniusReborn: Red Text

Corax Coup "DominusReborn?": Gray Text

 

-----

 

"I won't ask again imposter." SanguiniusReborn's mind raced as he stared down his black-clad doppelganger, the other him simply tightened his grip on the bolter and stared back.

 

"Right, I have to be careful here, diplomatic even." SR thought to himself "This guy looks more than ready to reduce my face to the same consistancy as Ludovic's chunky salsa. One wrong move, one bad bit of phrasing and BOOM, salsa face. Time to channel ol'daddy Sang's charisma..."

The Librarian mustered his winning smile...

 

"I'm... You?"

 

Somehow, he could vividly feel the Primarch rolling in his grave.

 

"Uh-huh."

 

Thunk, went the hammer on the Boltgun as the doppelganger cocked it with his thumb.

 

"Wait, wait! I'm not your enemy, I swear! I'm not even supposed to be here, I was helping Olis find Ludovic when this damn Blink Shield-"

 

"Hold on, how do you know Olisredan and Ludovic?" The other marine asked, his annoyed expression giving way to confusion as he lowered the Bolter.

 

"They're fellow members of the Legio, well Olis recently got made a Moderati so I suppose he's a superior b-"

 

"What are you taking about? Olis isn't a Mod, he isn't allowed. No Blackwatch member is allowed to be promoted higher than the rank of Sergeant, everyone knows that!"

 

Now it was SR's turn to look confused. "Blackwatch? Don't you mean Deathwatch?"

 

"Who in the Throne's name are the Deathwatch?

 

"The Militant Arm of the Ordo Xenos!"

 

"Huh?"

 

"A branch of the Imperial Inquisition!"

 

"Who?"

 

"Oh sweet Emperor, I've met Space Wolves smarter than you!"

 

"WHO IN THE SEVEN HELLS ARE THE SPACE WOLVES?!" The axeman roared, patience thoroughly exhausted and replaced by frustration.

 

"The Sixth Legion! Sky Warriors of Fenris and loyal sons of the Primarch Leman Russ!" The shocked look his twin grew caused SanguiniusReborn to pause.

 

"Space Wolves of Fenris...? Leman Russ? But... No, that's wrong! The Sixth Legion destroyed Fenris! They blew the Colonies out of orbit and let Lorgar's Imperial Hounds watch as their home died!"

 

There was a long pregnant pause as both marines tried to process what was going on, finally, SR spoke up, his tone cautious as an idea of what was going on slowly dawned on him.

"I... I don't think you're from around here, are you?"

 

"That depends, where the Feth is 'here?'"

 

As if on cue, a bright blue light suddenly burst into life between the two before forming into a shimmering portal of azure energy that could easily fit a Terminator. From the portal came a marine in ornate power armour of deep crimson with rich golden trim, clad in immaculate robes and bearing a stylised sun emblem upon his left shoulder. In the newcomer's hands was a Force Staff so beautifully crafted it made the artisan in SR jealous. The top was decorated the same stylised sun emblem but with an eye in it's centre while the bottom-third of the weapon was forged into a sword-like blade that SanguiniusReborn imagined could easily be wielded like a glaive or spear.

 

The Newcomer looked from SR to his axe-brandishing counterpart with a warm smile that both found somewhat uncomfortable, they were not used to be smiled at with their own face. Finally he turned to the Executioner.

 

"Greetings brothers, and to answer your question Dominus, an alternate reality."

Edited April 7, 2014 by SanguiniusReborn

[Ace Debonair]

"You lost the device." Ace facepalmed most mightily. "I'm pretty damn sure Brother Argos didn't intend you to throw that into the first Fracture we saw, you know."

"Ace." Olis replied, from under the press of Cormacs. "Be quiet and move these Cormacs off me."

Ace grumbled, but assisted in getting everyone stood upright anyway.

Just then, another portal flickered into life, with the familiar blue glow. As it grew to full size, a voice could be heard on the other side.

"Hallo? Anyone there?"

"Hallo yourself," Ace replied, stepping through the portal quickly with intent to punch his future self in the face for not mentioning the part where he pretty much got killed. On the other side, though, the Ace there was subtly different. His armour was white, not black, and his Liber Heraldry Dept. Hat was a much lighter blue. There was also another, more subtle difference - the structure of his face was very slightly different.

"Oh. That's not the me I was expecting," Ace frowned. Other Ace grinned.

"Good trick, huh? Listen, where I'm from we fixed all the Fractures. Well, except this one; Brother Argos asked me to pass this device through to another dimension, to try and get everywhere stabilised."

"Oh? Well, uh, thanks. We just lost our one of these down one of the Fractures."

"Let me guess - Olisredan dropped it?"

"Yes, actually." Ace looked puzzled. "How did I know?"

"It's happened in a few of the other realities I've seen. Seems to be kind of a common thing." Other Ace shrugged at Ace's bewildered expression. "It's been that sort of day."

"Huh. Listen, I've just got to ask - what Chapter are you from? There's a million Cormacs back there, but this is the first time I've seen another me hanging about."

"Me? I'm from the White Wolves."

"White Hawks here." Ace nodded understandingly. "Guess we're not all that different. Who's your Primarch?" Other Ace looked at him like he was an idiot.

"Horus, of course. The only surviving Primarch, protector of the Throne and Lord of Terra. How about you? Is this another one of those weird places where there wasn't a big free-for-all war between the Primarchs?"

"There was a civil war where Horus turned against the Emperor, actually. Kind of a big deal. All the Primarchs are pretty much done nowdays."

"Horus as a traitor? Wow, that's creepy. Listen, you'd better get going. The portal's gonna close. Have fun, now, and don't do anything I wouldn't do." Other Ace laughed.

"I'm sure I won't." Ace chuckled as he leapt back through the portal, device in hand.

There was a crash, as of a ceramite-armoured space marine landing on his face. Stumbling upright and shaking his head to clear the Cobwebs, Ace grinned the grin of the mildly concussed and held out the device.

"Hey guys, look at what I found."

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

Turns out I'm basically the same in pretty much every reality that's going to feature in this story.

Also that's the only time I'm planning on having my dimension hopping self interfere. I just thought we might need the device if we're going to find out what it actually does!

[Cpt_Reaper]

Oh look...I seem to have gotten lost. -cracks knuckles- Excellent. Time for mischief..I mean...LOOK A DISTRACTION!!!

[Olis]

"I don't think is really necessary," grumbled Olis. The skraaaaak, skraaaaak of military-grade tape being unwound from it's reel was a noise he did not relish, especially because of what was being done with the tape. How and why any Cormac would carry such an item was beyond the Moderati.

 

"Is he whining? I think you're whining." Grinned Codex Cormac, gleefully applying more tape to the already over-taped limb. 

 

"It's more of a legitimate concern. Disabling one of my hands with contact adhesive tape limits my combat capabilities."

 

"Oh please, there's going to be more than enough of me to make up for that 'problem'." He said, making air quotes. "Besides, you've got the dropsies." Several other Cormacs sniggered. One of them muttered something about the Moderati himself being a 'dropsie'.

 

"I heard that." The Moderati grumbled again. 

Edited April 8, 2014 by Olisredan

[Astus]

Great work guys, this thread keeps on getting better. :)
Now I'm considering joining in with the madness. Anyone require some 'slightly' unhinged help?

[Olis]

Hinged or not, join the party. It never stopped Vulkan from doing his thing. ;)

[Nomus Sardauk]

Great work guys, this thread keeps on getting better. :)

Now I'm considering joining in with the madness. Anyone require some 'slightly' unhinged help?

The more the merrier brother! Between Aquilanus, the Thousand Cormacs and Alternate realities, who'd notice another crazy running around? :D

[helterskelter]

More volkite?

[Olis]

More volkite?

 

Is that a request? :devil:

[helterskelter]

 

More volkite?

 

Is that a request? :devil:

yes. Yes it is. It would be rude not to, and after vengeful spirit, my love for volkite is sealed

[Conn Eremon]

>Requesting more volkites from Olisredan. Olisredan.

 

https://i.chzbgr.com/maxW500/1884985600/h9B5CE486/

Edited April 9, 2014 by Cormac Airt

[Astus]

He had only been in the Legio headquarters for an hour, but the Promethean was already lost.

He had been told to seek the Liber Astartes, and was heading in the right direction until he encountered some Space Wolves.

Now he was hungover and pretty sure the Space Wolves had sent him in the wrong direction.

'Never ask Space Wolves for directions, because they will always point you somewhere else for a joke. I really should have remembered that' the Librarian mumbled to himself.

After trudging along for another five minutes, he reached a dubious looking elevator. He wasn't exactly sure what was dubious about it, but something seemed off.

The Promethean shrugged.

It might send me in the right direction he mused hopefully.

He entered the elevator and was immediately amazed by the seeming endless array of buttons in front of him. On a whim he hit the button numbered '37'.

And everything faded to black.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

The Promethean woke up in a dingy looking space that appeared to be a pantry.

'That Fenrisian ale must have been stronger than I thought' he groaned.

Then he remembered the elevator, but strangely many of his other memories seemed fuzzy.

He decided to worry about that once he figured out where he was.

The Librarian stumbled out of the pantry door into a truly massive space. There was a large sign to his left that conveniently read 'Liber Culinarium'.

'Well that answers that question. Now where's the exit?'

He decided to walk straight ahead since that seemed like a good idea.

He walked on for what seemed like an hour, but was probably two hours.

Just when he was thinking of going through one of the doors on his right, he heard the sound of combat.

The Promethean rushed ahead to find a group of feral-looking serfs fighting what appeared to be mutated foodstuffs.

He drew his force sword and combi-melta and plunged into the battle. Reducing several mutant breads to toast, he sliced a particularly large mutant ham in half. After several more minutes of food combat, the last foodstuffs were defeated.

After working out which serf was the leader by his apron, the Promethean asked 'I'm kind of lost, where exactly are we?'.

The serf replied in an unintelligible tongue, which seemed to be horribly mangled Imperial Gothic.

'Of course you speak a language I don't. After making sure I knew most languages spoken by Astartes and their servants, I end up talking to a serf who speaks a tongue I probably will never understand.'

He was forced to continue on for another hour, until he reached a plain looking door. He entered.

Inside was several arcane looking weapons of varying sizes.

'Volkites' he whispered, awed at this treasure trove of ancient tech.

As he shut the door, he noticed a sign on the other side.

It read 'Property of Olisredan. Don't you dare take any.'

'Who in the Emperor's name is Olisredan? And who's his dealer?'

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

There's my debut. And yes, volkite is something you get addicted to.

Stay tuned for 'Misadventures of the Promethean'.

Edited April 10, 2014 by the promethean

[Olis]

>Requesting more volkites from Olisredan. Olisredan.

https://i.chzbgr.com/maxW500/1884985600/h9B5CE486/

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A cold chill enveloped him, as if someone walked over his grave. His shoulders juddered and his neck hairs prickled. A brief concern about his private armoury gave him pause for thought before he stopped walking.

"Did anybody feel that?" Asked the Moderati. "It's like I'm being stalked."

The four dozen or so Cormacs, the 'other' Aquilanus and 'other' Deathspectre just looked at him. Naturally they were all behind him at the time. A brief cry of "Your face is a stalk!" made little sense and barely warranted acknowledgement, let alone a reply. The Moderati was fairly sure it was that same Cormac who made the 'dropsie' quip earlier. He made a silent oath to punch that particular Cormac in the face when the opportunity arose.

They had been marching through a vast and many tiered complex, with a significant inner hall that was crossed by all manner of bridges, gantries and pipework. The ground floor, if it could be called as such all the way down here, appeared to be a banquet hall complete with a huge wooden, varnished table. From where they were, seven exits from the lower hall had been identified besides the numerous cross-walks.

Ace was nowhere to be seen, however. Codex Cormac seemed to have noticed it too.

"Hey, where's your Techmarine gone?" They all looked at Aquilanus and Deathspectre.

"What?" Deathspectre said.

"Don't look at us," Aquilanus spread his hands, "Ace was walking with you lot." He nodded at the Cormacs.

"Uh, no. He wasn't." Insisted Codex Cormac. "I distinctly remember you two leaving that storeroom with him," he said, jerking a thumb at Olis, "with ol' nuts and bolts following behind. After that, I didn't care to pay attention."

"Well, now we have to look for him." The Moderati instructed the group. Much muttering and grumbling could be heard from the gaggle of Cormacs - many did not like the idea. "Right. Split up and search for Ace. Give it twenty minutes, or as close as you can figure it to be twenty minutes, and then come back here. We'll wait on this gantry and see if we can spot him from up here."

"Woah-ho. You get to stand around while we do the searching?"

"Now listen carefully, Codex Cormac, for I'll say this only once: I'm tired of your lip. I'm tired of your attitude. You will look for Ace while we keep an eye out. Why? Because I said so. You think I'm throwing around my weight as a Moderati? Think again. I'm telling you, as a Frater, that you had better become useful to us or I will find a way of losing you for good. Who knows? Maybe it'll be your reality that I close next." He looked pointedly at the wayward Cormac, hand straying near his plasma pistol. Deathspectre and Aquilanus stood at his shoulders.

All Codex Cormac could do was scowl. He didn't like being challenged. He also didn't like having to think of a Plan B. Picking a handful of other Cormacs to accompany him, he stormed off. All the others watched him leave, before looking back at the Moderati.

"Well? Get going." He commanded.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey! Look what I found!" Bellowed a crimson Cormac toting a chainaxe and a hand flamer. Far below the main group, he sauntered into view from the lowest level pressure hatch. Behind him trudged a whole new group of Cormacs. Olis groaned, curiously in sync with Aquilanus. Deathspectre simply gawped.

"Just how many Cormacs are there?" He managed breathlessly.

"Emperor only knows." Aquilanus muttered. More Cormacs did not sound like good news, right now.

Far below, the new group followed Crimson Cormac to the banquet table and waited there. At the head of the group walked a Cormac burdened with a heavy cannon. He directed his fellows to take up defensive positions. Perhaps he knew where Ace went. The Moderati, Aquilanus and Deathspectre went down to join them.

Edited April 10, 2014 by Olisredan
Derped all over this one. Silly me.

[Heru]

You will look for Cormac while we keep an eye out.

Yep, you just told a group of Cormacs to look for Cormac.

Edited April 10, 2014 by Heru Talon

[Olis]

You will look for Cormac while we keep an eye out.

Yep, you just told a group of Cormac's to look for Cormac.

Aaaand this is what I get for writing the name 'Cormac' waaaay too many times.

Thanks, Heru, for spotting that one.

Edited April 10, 2014 by Olisredan

[helterskelter]

Zap a few thin the numbers.. I can make a few meet suitably grisly deaths :devil:

[Conn Eremon]

You will look for Cormac while we keep an eye out.

Yep, you just told a group of Cormac's to look for Cormac.

Aaaand this is what I get for writing the name 'Cormac' waaaay too many times.

Thanks, Heru, for spotting that one.

It's how I remember I'm still alive.

And feel free to kill off some Cormacs. It's not like Olisredan will let me keep them when this is all said and done.

Just be discrete about it. We're everywhere, and I doubt we'll take too kindly to seeing ourselves killed. If our ghosts won't haunt you for the deed, a thousand Cormacs who witnessed the deed will do just fine in its stead.

And now I'm imagining the last Cormac putting the others down with tears in his eyes because Olisredan said I couldn't take them with me.

==============================

There was a sickening squelch and crack as Cormac pulled the powersword from the narrow slit of soft armor between the now dead Marine's chest armor and helmet.

"Ah, a fine blade this has turned out to be," Coup Cormac mused to himself, staring lovingly at the stolen blade of gold, a ruby teardrop set into the pommel. The blade was still live, and the blood popped and sizzled as it boiled off. "Handy to have around when three groups in a row decide to so violently disagree with what I have to say."

Another Cormac nearby edged closer, staring down at the corpse with disgust in his eyes. "The third group you opened fire on before saying a word, you mean."

Coup Cormac sighed as he gazed back down at the broken corpse that had once been Aquilanus. "Yes, well. My armor's servos aren't quite what they used to be, and I have always been rather fond of that shade of red. Besides, where would I be if I hadn't taken this blade from that one Ace, the son of Sanguinius version?"

The other Cormac scowled and opened his mouth to answer, but Coup Cormac kept on talking over him.

"Nowhere good is right. I certainly wouldn't be in a place where I would have such a fine piece of killing art. In other words, somewhere not worth living in." The other Cormac growled in response to Coup's words. "Oh, very well. It really is quite amazing that there were so many other realities out there where I actually continued to follow the Emperor with all that loyalty nonsense. No need to get your polished aquila all bent out of shape. The next one I promise to use words first."

Coup Cormac bent down to begin undoing the clasps on the armor, but paused after releasing the first two and looked back up.

"Maybe only one. A shortened one, perhaps. " 'lo " and then I begin firing. What's life without morbid humor, after all?" Coup Cormac turned back to his work. The other Cormac's grimace never faded, and one of his hands edged towards his combat blade.

A series of deep, loud booms sounded nearby, accompanied by a chaotic assortment of high-pitched shrieking, grabbed everyone's attention. Every single Cormac swiveled their heads to stare down a hallway that ended at an intersection that ran perpendicular to it. The sounds continued, and a black spray appeared, followed by the torn and shredded bodies of a horde's worth of those shadowy things that stalked the lower levels. The loud, repetitive booms got louder and louder until its source revealed itself: Cannon Cormac was walking calmly forward, his gun pointed forward and trigger clamped solidly down for continuous fire. Soon, he was out of sight and the sounds faded. The whole affair lasted half a dozen seconds at most. When the Cormacs turned their attention back to their arbitrarily chosen commander, they noticed one of their own was lying on the floor, his blood mingling with Aquilanus' in a puddle around them.

"Therein lies a lesson for you all, kids. Shrapnel is a strange, but dangerous thing. Now then, someone help me with this pauldron, it's stuck on something."

=========================================

I had originally intended to post this last night, and it was a volkite taken from an Olisredan, but this seemed to fit as a precursor to Olisredan's most recent post.

That, and I wanted to make it clear that Coup is supposed to be a bad egg, since Codex might not be going down that road like I had intended.

Edited April 10, 2014 by Cormac Airt

[Olis]

I had originally intended to post this last night, and it was a volkite taken from an Olisredan, but this seemed to fit as a precursor to Olisredan's most recent post.

 

Ah, that would make sense. Post duly considered a precursor. 

 

That, and I wanted to make it clear that Coup is supposed to be a bad egg, since Codex might not be going down that road like I had intended.

 

Good to know. Codex is just being a bit of a douche atm, really. Not necessarily bad egg material but worthy of a metaphorical slap, methinks. Coup Cormac sounds like a challenge, though. :D

[Ace Debonair]

"Hullo, me."

 

"Hullo yourself." Ace frowned. "Have I been here before? I think I've been here before."

 

"Ah? No, I don't think you have." This newest Ace looked a lot like Ace Debonair of the White Wolves, except this version had a long, jagged scar carved into the right side of his face. "I'm awfully sorry to interrupt, by the way, but there's some information you really need to hear: don't trust Olisredan."

 

"Beg pardon?" Ace looked genuinely blank.

 

"I'm almost certain that's not the Olisredan from your reality - I think he's the one from mine, and he's looking for a way out after betraying the Legio to Chaos."

 

"Oh." Ace looked nonplussed. "Now that I have this information, I don't know what to do with it."

 

"You use it, dummy. Keep your eyes open and be ready just in case. Do not let him get his hands on the Fracture closing thingy."

 

"He's sort of got it taped to his hand." Ace sighed. The other Ace cursed continuously for almost a full minute without pausing for breath, concluding with:

 

"Oh yeah, and be wary of Ludo, as well."

 

"Why, is he about to join the Dark Eldar because they promised him cookies or something?" Ace laughed.

 

"No, he's just not happy you haven't found a new oven yet. You ought to get on with that, by the way."

 

"Oh."

 

"Is that all I can say or something? Go on, be off with me." Other Ace waved at the closing portal. "I'm no longer sure this'll put me back in the right place, though."

 

"Of course it won't." Ace gritted his teeth and jumped through the portal, this time remembering to roll as he hit the steel-plated floor.

 

This time, however, he wasn't in the room he'd just left. This room was a vast, vaulted hall. The dim lights up near ceiling level revealed a huge room filled with a towering mix of old, rusted machines and carelessly discarded spare parts. Thin walkways between the junk seemed like the only empty space. Ace was sure in the distance he could hear those shadow-creatures scuttling about, and some sixth sense told him that calling out or making any more noise than he absolutely had to was a good way to get himself killed. Can't do that, he thought in the privacy of his own head, because he still had a mission to complete. Fix the problems with space and time, and if he can find a new oven in the process then so much the better.

 

On the other hand as the old saying went: in a room full of spare parts just waiting to be repurposed, a Techmarine with a relaxed attitude to STC designs is King.

 

Ace grinned the grin of a predator confronted by an easy kill. If he could keep quiet for a little while, this was about to get interesting.

[helterskelter]

The power armoured body slumped to the floor, a fizzling hole through its head.

"Silly idea leaving the main group like that, tsk tsk"

Helterskelter lowered his Volkite Serpenta, and reholstered it, drawing his serrated combat blade in its stead. He knelt down to the corpse and removed it's helm. He mused to himself that it looked strangely like Cormac.

"Alpha legion playing games again? Nevermind, you will still make a fine addition to my cloak."

And with that, he set about removing the corpses face, the only sounds to be heard were the wet ripping of muscle and skin being separated.

[Ace Debonair]

Query - where exactly is the hole in the maybe-Cormac's head that there's still enough of his face for you to start skinning?

A body shot might be the better option.

...There's advice I didn't imagine I'd be giving today.

[helterskelter]

Aim for the eye lenses? Didn't say I needed the whole face now :p just some (plus I'm kinda new to creative writing, so I'll take on board any and all advice you can throw my way, muchos thanks brothers)