Avatar of Jb
  • Last Seen: 6 mos ago
  • Joined: 11 yrs ago
  • Posts: 3487 (0.88 / day)
  • VMs: 1
  • Username history
    1. Jb 7 yrs ago
    2. ██████ 11 yrs ago
  • Latest 10 profile visitors:

Status

Recent Statuses

4 yrs ago
"STOP. QUOTING. ME." Jb, 2019, quoted in 2022." Roland, 2022, quoted in 2022.
2 likes
7 yrs ago
STOP. QUOTING. ME.
3 likes
7 yrs ago
Gone fishing for a week, will return soon.
7 yrs ago
Happy New Year!
4 likes
8 yrs ago
Merry Yuletide, one and all! Gods bless.
1 like

Bio

Greetings,

I am Jb; Briton by birth, roleplayer by my own hand, and lover of literature. I am also an amateur historian, a receiver of a Bachelors degree in Ancient and Medieval History - quite a useless degree, actually - and would like to think that I'm a fair, honest and open guy.

As far as RP'ing goes, I'm pretty open to most things really, all you need to do is ask! :)

So, if you've ever any questions for me, wish to speak about RP's involving myself or run by myself, or simply feel like a chat, don't be afraid to get in touch.

Most Recent Posts

Perhaps the oddest thing about the teams current location were not the screams and shrieks that seemed to surround them, nor the faint sounds of projectiles impacting on the cruisers hull...no...it was the complete lack of anyone. There were no warriors storming toward them, no Druchii striking from the shadows at them, from the dimly lit corridors formed of almost purple metals there came no nearby sounds at all.
@Wraithblade6 There aren't any xenos, so that'd be a wee bit hard.
@ClocktowerEchos Just write something, and we'll find out.
If you're waiting for me to post, I don't feel like I'll really have much to say until the wizard and elf respond.


Do you mean me Elf, or the other one? If so, he already has; feel free to creep up behind him and shank him, or something.
Just to make sure. Having a cyber bear from the not-future Moscow circus is an option here?


A cy-BEAR, you might say...eh...eeeeeeeh?

Yea, that's cool, if he's tame.
@BCTheEntity Ah, no worries! Yea, I can see how that'd be confusing. :)
@BCTheEntity Um...what destroyed arm? There is no destroyed arm, I'm afraid.
@Za Warudo@Dogematix@Mach2@DrunkasaurusRex@The Mover@Paraffin@BurningCold

Okie dokie, we got ourselves seven (I'm assuming good and decent) folks thus far - I like that number, but if anyone else wishes to show their interest then please do!

I shall get to work on the OOC soon, so stay tuned and get those laser-colts ready.
Posted.
@DrunkasaurusRex@Ollumhammersong@Wraithblade6

Chaos was never a singularly focused thing, never straightforward or simple, no; Chaos was as fluid as liquid and as winding as a trip through the Immaterium without a Navigator, and just as likely to destroy you! The former Consul of the Third Legion was about to find this out, much to his extreme annoyance and chagrin, when two unknown elements were added into the equation of what should have been a simple capture of a transport and a much more difficult escape from this Warp-forsaken rock.

“We must get that Gunship before any of our cousins, there is to be no stopping. For the Emperor!”

The last part of his statement was made in jest, in mockery of all that their Legion had once been and in how far they had fallen, flesh and flak turning the amaranth-coloured plate of his armour into a shade of red that would have made any Khornate proud to see. So many faces passed before the rune-flashing screen of his visor, the eye sockets flaring outwardly as he slaughtered his way through ranks of unaugmented humans, that he very soon lost count or care – these were unworthy warriors, cattle, to be used and discarded like any other.

By now the Black Legionnaires had started to react, the space around the ship more-or-less cleared of anyone who was not an Astartes, the loyalist forces making short work of those they came across and equally as desperate to get their hands on the ship as anyone else.

“Reinforcements!” Growled Engilram through his helm-vox, his heavy bolter beginning to churn out explosive shells as a dozen or so black-clad Marines rushed from within the belly of the Thunderhawk.

“You idiot! I told you to-”

Although he had no idea why, the former member of the Palatine Blades – one arm of his armour still blazoned in platinum as it was nearly ten-thousand years ago – ground a heel into the dirt and spun upon it, the bolt-pistol coming from hip to hand and ready to fire in the blink of an eye. Where the sight now hovered was directly at the faceplate of a being who had just cooked three legionnaires and appeared to be coming for him next, his possible death in night-blue armour and warded by script that hurt the eye to view.

A son of Magnus on Minoa? Not only that, but one who seemingly came without the usual coterie of armoured husks – the feared and reviled Runic Marines – to protect him. Perhaps he did not need their protection.

“What do you want, sorcerer?” Growled the Child, his voice amplified over the fighting, a smooth baritone that was edged with warning, “this is not your fight.”

Even as he kept his eyes fixed on the sorcerer, he could hear from behind him the distinct sound of a chainaxe, but not wishing to turn he could but wait and see whether its screeching paean of death was from an ally or an enemy.
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