Recent Statuses

1 mo ago
Current My legs are dangling off the edge, a stomach full of pills didn't work again, I'll put a bullet in my head and I'm gone, gone, gone, gone...
6 mos ago
8 mos ago
Felis Navidad! Happy Hollidays! Merry Christmas! Happy Hannukah! Krazy Kwanza! I'm running out of religions!
8 mos ago
Warhammer is called Warhammer because the chief god of the largest Human Empire used a gigantic warhammer. The more you know.
9 mos ago
I just want a 1x1 RP that isn't rated 18+. *Cries.*


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Most Recent Posts

His backup had arrived. Or perhaps he was the vanguard for the main force. Either way, battle was joined, which meant that he could focus on more than simply attempting to not die. Bullets rattled off his shield in front of him, most turned entirely away by the aura of power surrounding it, the occasional few pockmarking the surface with scrapes and craters. Not that that mattered. He placed his sights on an individual and approached them. They would fall. He would repeat the process.

He cared not how long it would take per individual, nor if an individual's name came on his blade or on a friendly bolt shell. Instead, he focused on his work- his tapestry of red, throats, chests, faces and limbs left with deadly and indelible marks, sending them to their unholy afterlives by the grace of the almighty Emperor. These individuals did not challenge him. They replaced skill with brutality and an overwhelming offensive, but they were hardly an unstoppable force, unfortunate when facing one such as himself.

He had not taken one step back. Now he took them forward. Another heretic came at him. Instead of striking with his glaive, the Crusader stiffened his arm and pistoned it forward, the end result much like what would happen if you ran over a guardsman's head with a chimera- not pleasant, to put it lightly. Before the corpse had even crumpled to the ground, his blade found another mark.

He was barely focusing on his companions. He heard shouts, he heard taunts, the rattle of gunfire, but his mind tuned it out. A technique he had learned from the Cardinals- emptying his mind of the excess thoughts. All he concerned himself with was himself and his foes. This effortless emptiness had been honed to a finer point than the blade her carried, watching with a detached look as a sister beheaded a xenos and tossed the body inside, if only because his glaive lashed out adjacent to the fallen creature.

There was no doubt that they would win this fight.

Welcome to the Lions and Wolves. Discord server here. This is a low-fantasy RP, taking place in a low-fantasy setting where two mighty factions war with one another for survival. On one side stands the Legion Imperii- remnants of the once-great Empire. On the other stands the Warborn- Who claim to be the true natives of the land, those whos Gods have reigned over the forests and mountains of Garion for millennia. An uneasy peace has reigned- maintained only by times of plenty. Now, however, hardship has arrived, and with hardship comes war. The Lions of the Legion are sharpening their claws against the infidels of the Warborn, whose axes are polished like the fangs of Wolves.

Players will take control of either a Legion Nobleman, or a Warborn Jarl. These aren't your normal curs who hide in castles however- leaders are expected to do so on the battle. Let the trebuchets fly, and the berserkers slip. There's a lot of leeway for warmaking, and even more to be gained.

I hope you fine folk will be with me.

@Lady Selune

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Hello folks, and welcome to this Hotline Miami inspired RP. This will be, canonically, set between the dates of the first and second game, and you will be a group of individuals tasked by the 50 Blessings club to... Well, do what they do best, all whilst your sanity and reason drifts away from you, all in sunny Florida! If you're ready to take the plunge into insanity, feel free to check us out at the discord server. Bye!
Just a quick thing.
"Machine diagnostics complete." The techpriest turned to him. "The linkage Ommissiah has been established. The machine spirit is pleased." His voice crackled out, slightly statick-y. "Mount your vehicle." The red robed man indicated to his vehicle. Reaching through the window of his vehicle, Arkan opened the door and got inside. He settled into the seat, and then pressed the button that would start the sentinel up. "Vehicle running smoothly. Very good. Move onto the lander." The techpriest walked forward, and he closed the sentinel door, before locking it firmly. Using the control sticks, he rose the sentinel up to its height. Flicking a few switched, the autocannon spun up a little bit, and then slowed down. Perfect. Always good to double check what the clankers said.

Slowly, the sentinel walked forward. Whirr. Clunk. Whirr. Clunk. Whirr. Clunk. That was... Loud. Oh, wait, he hadn't turned on the scout mufflers. Another switch, and the sound of the vehicle was muffled. Lowering the sentinel down, he shuffled the sentinel forward a little, and then parked the walker inside the lander. Another techpriest directed a series of servitors to clamp down on the feet of his vehicle. The techpriest looked up at him. "These will automatically release upon landing."

Helpful. The voice continued to boom out as the lander was released, and he ran through the information on his head. He would be out first, and had to meet out with his fellow soldiers, but officially he was separate to the squad, and as such, wasn't underneath anyone but the acting Oberleutnant. Fine fine.

Are we going to be kicking off any time soon?


According to the warhammer 40K wiki (I'll edit it anyway.)

- The Cadian Pattern Sentinel is armed with an Autocannon which is effective against more "elite" armoured infantry units and standard vehicles. Its canopy is fully enclosed and armoured.
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