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What a mess this is...

I am both glad and a bit sad that I dropped out of this and have no chance of getting back in due to the amount of crazy stuff you chaps have written tongue.png

EDIT: Page 50! w00t! :D

Edited by Battle-Brother Ludovic

What a mess this is...

I am both glad and a bit sad that I dropped out of this and have no chance of getting back in due to the amount of crazy stuff you chaps have written tongue.png

EDIT: Page 50! w00t! :D

Nonsense brother! Given how insane things are already I see no reason why you couldn't make a reappearance, heck, perhaps you followed Ace down into the basement to kick his ass for taking so long with finding that replacement oven. :D

Helterskelter lowered his Volkite Serpenta,

ohmy.png

Oh, I see. Now that the promethean has found my stash, it's a free for all is it? Damn it, I was keeping those for an emergency!

Edit - Ludo, there's always a chance to get back in. In fact, I've been waiting with baited breath for so long I'm in danger of passing out. Now hop to it or I'm going to civilize your staff. Like teach them to read and speak gothic, for a start.

Edited by Olisredan

I bring my own, yours are all still there :p

I have come from the.. the..

part of the ship... part of the crew...

part of the ship... part of the crew...

ahem excuse me, seem to have been distracted, now where did I put my chainglaive..?

What a mess this is...

...

Nonsense brother! Given how insane things are already I see no reason why you couldn't make a reappearance, heck, perhaps you followed Ace down into the basement to kick his ass for taking so long with finding that replacement oven. biggrin.png walk into all the traps Ace skipped past with knowledge from the future.

Fixed that for you, SR. msn-wink.gif

Ludo, I deliberately left you out in case you wanted to write what you've been up to. happy.png

Go crazy and pitch some wacky hijinks - nearly everyone else has!biggrin.png

...Also anyone who supported the idea to keep the oven responsible for all of this despite the fact it was a hellish abomination that only created horrible stuff that would test even a Space Wolf's digestion is someone I can't get into the mind of well enough to write well.laugh.png

Throne, that was a long sentence.ermm.gif

EDIT:

Fifty pages long. Only in the Liber could a thread like this last fifty pages and over three years.

If I was the sort to drink, I'd drink to the Liber at this point. This is a great place and long may it remain so!

Edited by Ace Debonair

The Liber Drinking Game. You can only post while under the influence, one shot for every page you have participated in.

 

Some of you will probably be dead if you tried, but that's how you weed out the greybeards weak and infirm.

Rest assured, brothers, this thread will remain on B&C for as long as I have a say in the matter. On the flipside - I have This Is Liber Astartes III awaiting tinkering. I plan to release it when this story arc ends (not Christmas like I had originally promised).

The Liber Drinking Game. You can only post while under the influence, one shot for every page you have participated in.

Some of you will probably be dead if you tried, but that's how you weed out the greybeards weak and infirm.

Crikey. That's probably at least two dozen drinks for me then... Where's my rum bottle? sweat.gif

Virtually inaccessible by most means, the figure lurked in the shadows far above any of these simpletons. His Jesters Mace and Rictus Mask provided a strange alternative to his austere black armour. He'd crafted both items himself, a rite of passage into the ranks of the Adepti Colrous. Not just a regular member of any chapter, he was part of a greater brotherhood banded from across the galaxy.

 

The white mask, emblazoned with a rictus grin and topped by a green, longitudinal crest, regarded the gathering of Cormacs. He had to put down his own Cormac months ago, as one of the unfaithful. For there to be a great many of these unfaithful to reside in any reality was a blow to the Colrous. There was one, however, that seemed promising. A quip here, a cheeky remark there. Yes. Perhaps this Cormac would be a suitable replacement for his universe's own. Maybe even faithful enough to be his protégé. 

 

Small and silver, the ball in his other hand was slipped back into it's pouch. He unhooked his Serpenta from it's holster-noose, the chain attaching it to his wrist clinking at the movement... 

 

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

 

The Moderati had listened to Cannon Cormac and realised, with dismay, that he knew about as much as they did. There was one important detail though - he had found what appeared to be the generator that was causing this reality overlap. The problem there was that is was located across a significant chasm.

 

Not a problem, Aquilanus had initially asserted. The Cormacs here still toting Jump Packs could attempt a crossing. He was quickly disappointed. 'Significant' meant that not only the distance was great but the other side was barred by a void shield. Another entrance was visible but they had no idea how to get there. Before any more exploration could occur this group of Cormacs had been beset by daemon-hounds and what could only be described as 'renegade' Cormacs.

 

This was a problem. Not only did they know where the machine was, which was as yet inaccessible, but they still didn't know where Ace was. If anyone was going to get time and space to work in the manner that it should, it'd be Ace, for lack of a better alternative. It was time to search again. With this many more Cormacs, it stood to reason that perhaps they would find Ace this time.

 

It was at that point when Codex Cormac asked about these 'renegade' Cormacs. Why should they worry about Ace when some bloodthirsty 'other' Cormacs were out for blood? It was better to form fire-teams and engage these outcasts. Deathspectre nodded sagely while Aquilanus shrugged at Olis. It wasn't a bad idea. 

 

A maniacal laugh ripped through the silence as a red beam hit Crimson Cormac, severely damaging his chest plate and knocking him on his back. Another beam struck Librarian Cormac, the very same whose reality had been 'closed'. His head imploded into ash and his armoured body crashed to the floor. Return fire blitzed into the ceiling pipes, demolishing rusty metalwork and causing a large number to cascade down to the floor with a terrible din. Bolters, plasma weapons, the odd las-weapon and even the heavier calibre guns paused to survey the damage. 

 

Whatever was there, wasn't any more. It had moved. Another maniacal laugh sounded from the gantry the Moderati had used earlier as an observation platform. Another Cormac was brought down, his own boltgun spinning from his dead grip. The answering salvo obliterated the gantry and a sizable chunk of the surrounding stone. No body, no corpse, no debris.

 

He was still alive but he didn't return.

 

What came as a shock was the death toll. It wasn't two Cormacs that had died, as four more from the group periphery had been apparently clubbed to death while their guns were tearing apart masonry. Six. Six dead in the space of less than a minute against one foe. One other Cormac was unaccounted for and three Cormacs were badly injured.

 

Great. Yet more problems. Not only had they to deal with time and space unraveling and warp incursions but they now had to worry about a mysterious killer and a whole group of outcast Cormacs. And that didn't cover Ace being AWOL. A bad day made worse, just what the Moderati wanted. 

 

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

 

The Colrous released this Cormac when his was out of harm's way, in what was apparently a bunker. They were a level removed from the gaggle of Cormacs and a good kilometre north. This Cormac raised his bolter but it was smashed aside by the puppet-mace.

 

"You will be better off alive, whelp." Growled the Colrous.

 

"What do you want?" The Cormac managed.

 

"You."

 

"You only want me for my money." He started. An amused grunt from the Colrous accompanied another smash from the mace, aimed squarely at the jaw of the Cormac. It sent him sprawling.

 

"You have a quick wit. Good." The Colrous pressed his puppet-mace under the chin of the Cormac, raising his face to look directly at the helm of his captor.

 

"Who are you?" 

 

"Me?" The Colrous asked. He removed his helm, the rictus visage revealing a familiar face. "Just another joke in the story of the Imperium."

Edited by Olisredan

"If I tell the Moderati that tomorrow, a Heretic will be shot, or a rhino full of Space Marines is going to get blown up. Nobody panics. Because it's all part of the plan. But I say one little old oven is going to be destroyed, well then everyone loses their minds!" 

Ace hummed quietly and tunelessly to himself as he browsed the junk for suitable parts.

 

He was, of course, improvising.

After all, he reasoned, do I look like the sort of Astartes who has a plan?

 

There was a long, uncomfortable moment, and Ace shuddered, suddenly feeling that last thought was much more ominous than he'd intended.

 

Then he got back to rummaging through the debris in case he found anything useful.

The Promethean paused with indecision. Do I dare risk this Olisredan's wrath by taking volkite or two?

'Who am I kidding? I'm sure he won't mind. Signs are merely suggestions after all.'

After grabbing a pair of volkite serpentas, he continued on.

After leaving the room, he tried the door next to it. Inside was ovens and various other kitchen appliances, some which probably didn't even function anymore.

He weaving through the room, stepping past rusting toasters and blenders. Finally he reached another door, and opened it. This time he was in what appeared to be a greenhouse, although it had become overgrown long ago.

The Librarian hacked his way through the dense undergrowth until he reached the exit.

On the other side was a vast vaulted hall, with large piles of junk that almost reached the ceiling in parts.

He spotted a thin walkway that passed through the junk and proceededd along it. Near the middle of the hall, the Promethean saw something he definitely did not expect.

Sitting in one of the pile of junk, was a marine in black armour with a strange blue hat, trying to make something from the scrap.

The Promethean approached him. 'Hello, you wouldn't happen to know where we are do you?

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

Olisredan, I only intend to borrow the serpentas, I will return them to you (eventually). wink.png

Ace, I thought you might appreciate the help, so I offer my (avatar's) services. I may be a Librarian, but I dabble in technical skills. By which I mean I cobble things together and hope that they work and don't blow up. sweat.gif Although there's probably a least one working oven in the other room...

And so people know what my character is like, and what he is armed with, here it is. The Promethean is a Librarian of the Angels Cognus, whose symbol is a winged cog. He is armed with a force sword, a combi-melta, a pair of volkite serpentas, and a power wrench for tinkering with stuff. And he is 'slightly' unhinged

And finally considering the Colrous is around, I'll just leave this here. devil.gif

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

It had been quiet in the Liber for a long time now, with so many members searching for an elusive oven.

But in a single moment the silence was shattered. A bowling ball struck nearby wall. A marine in green armour, with a white eagle upon his chest walked over and removed it from the wall.

The one known as Batman had returned.

Edit: Changed the last bit so it's easier to work out who it is.

Edited by the promethean

Olisredan, I only intend to borrow the serpentas, I will return them to you (eventually). wink.png

Ehh. Keep them if you want to. I only get overprotective of them as part of my B&C 'persona'. I'm sure I can wrangle more if I ever need them (which I won't). wink.png

Edited by Olisredan

He'll only find out if I want him to, I am part ninja after all. ph34r.png

I fear you underestimate our dear Moderati, even ninjas are not above their authority, and their justice is swift and fiery. biggrin.png

Right now it's the Colrous who's swift and fiery. I seem to be doing my best to end up knee deep in crud with every other story addition. :rolleyes:

He'll only find out if I want him to, I am part ninja after all. ph34r.png

I fear you underestimate our dear Moderati, even ninjas are not above their authority, and their justice is swift and fiery. biggrin.png

Right now it's the Colrous who's swift and fiery. I seem to be doing my best to end up knee deep in crud with every other story addition. rolleyes.gif

Well, I must tread carefully then. ermm.gif

I'll just be happy if I don't get executed for raidi... I mean borrowing from his personal armoury. whistlingW.gif

Well, Olisredan, maybe we should start changing that... devil.gif

Everything was deathly quiet with no sign of life almost as if the entire world had been abandoned eons ago. Nothing worked in this place, every door had to be forced open, every light had burned out or was smashed and it was only thanks to his enhanced body he could see anything. His helmet was hung from him belt battered after a battle he had no memory of, like the rest of his armour and weapons and the vox bead in his ear produced only static. Up ahead a massive door loomed into view - it was not fully closed as the remains of an ancient tank had stopped the door closing. Climbing up the wreck and into the warehouse beyond all Reyner could see was mounds of unused equipment and spare parts strewn about, pieces of ancient toasters and ovens. There were walkways above him extending in all directions like this place once had a purpose instead of a dumping ground, hearing a shout in the distance he took cover and pulled out his combat blade then started making his way towards the noises.

 

 

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