I'll post within the next year. Likely tomorrow
Lotta Pumpkins Member
I'm not a rapper
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Rip in pepperonis, this thread, I guess.
Ben heard the sound of wind, and reacted differently than the Inquisitor. When the Psyker appeared behind them, Ben had pivoted and his plasma pistol was in his hand, humming. He looked at the Psyker for a second before placing the pistol back in the underarm holster hidden by his coat. Ben reached up and plucked the lho-stick from his mouth and flicked it, as Stukov appeared and was uncerimonsely greeted by gravity.
The inquisitor suggested that the 4 of them go in now, and the others could be backup. It worked for Ben, and he shrugged. "It's your show sir, lead the way." He said, clapping his hands. Ben took a few steps up to the gallery, and stopped to address Stukov. "Watchman, eh? Maybe we should call you Rainman, since you're falling from the sky, and all." Ben said, with a deadpan face. He held for a second or two, and smirked, before continuing up the steps to the gallery.
The inquisitor suggested that the 4 of them go in now, and the others could be backup. It worked for Ben, and he shrugged. "It's your show sir, lead the way." He said, clapping his hands. Ben took a few steps up to the gallery, and stopped to address Stukov. "Watchman, eh? Maybe we should call you Rainman, since you're falling from the sky, and all." Ben said, with a deadpan face. He held for a second or two, and smirked, before continuing up the steps to the gallery.
A ten foot fall can break bones, did Eisenhorn know he was being used for comic relief?
After listening to the Inquisitor issue his orders, Ben would pay for his drinks, and stand up. Putting his hands in his pockets, he made his way out the door, and started the walk to the gallery. He looked around, reminded in some ways of his home, but otherwise, didn't really ruminate on many things. He scanned around for possible threats, and stopped to buy a pack of lhosticks.
Errand completed, he started walking again, and removed one stick from the carton, and put it in his mouth. Ben pulled a lighter from his pocket, and lit it, drawing in the smoke, and exhaling it through his nostrils.
When he arrived at the gallery, he took what was left of the thing from his mouth with his left hand and rolled it between his metal fingers until the fire was out, and then flicked the remnants onto the ground.
Ben looked at the Inquisitor. He knew that man was older than him by a few years, but he didn't look it. "You know, it all burns." Ben said, idly. He gestured around him and everything. "Hive cities. The people who live here think they're a fortress. Untouchable, and some sort of redoubt against anything. But they're just big slaughterhouses."
Ben put his hands in his pockets, and hunched a little as if he was cold. He sniffled before continuing. "You ever lead one of the big wars?" he asked. "I'm guessing no. bit young for it, bit nice." Ben said, not really waiting for a reply. "I know, kindness isn't weakness and all that. I met one who wasn't kind. He was like some animal who had been kicked and was looking for someone to bite."
Ben kept going, on some sort of tangent now. "Back on Armageddon, my platoon leader, some young Lieutenant got himself killed, and I was the highest rank NCO. So they promoted me for a bit and made me lead. And my unit was fighting in a hive city. Don't even remember which one anymore. And it was this fuckin' meatgrinder. They just told us everyday to keep moving forward, and I know what they say about orks. They're stupid, but they're cunning. Traps everywhere, ambushes, enfilade fire. We'd have to dismount for engineers to clear rubble and then they'd shoot us to bits." Ben swallowed loudly like he was having trouble with the story.
"And one day, they pull my unit from the front. And here I am, dirty, I haven't shaved. Haven't slept more than an hour a day if that, no ammo, hungry. And this private comes up to me and tells me an Inquisitor wants to see me. So I go, right, not like I can say no. And he's thinkin' big war stuff, and asking me these questions that made me want to kill him. How many bodies did I lose, what did I learn, can I learn more with more bodies, how long until we take this street or that block. And all I can think about is how they aren't bodies, or fuckin' meat in a goddamn slaughterhouse. That they're Jan whose intestines I held as she died, or Ken who got cut in half in an ambush."
At this point, Ben pulled out another lho-stick, and lit it on fire. "I dunno what the point is. I dunno. I guess thanks for not being that kind of Inquisitor. At least to our faces." Ben said, looking up at Zhevon. Ben sighed loudly and spit. "Think we're going to see anything down here?" Ben asked.
Errand completed, he started walking again, and removed one stick from the carton, and put it in his mouth. Ben pulled a lighter from his pocket, and lit it, drawing in the smoke, and exhaling it through his nostrils.
When he arrived at the gallery, he took what was left of the thing from his mouth with his left hand and rolled it between his metal fingers until the fire was out, and then flicked the remnants onto the ground.
Ben looked at the Inquisitor. He knew that man was older than him by a few years, but he didn't look it. "You know, it all burns." Ben said, idly. He gestured around him and everything. "Hive cities. The people who live here think they're a fortress. Untouchable, and some sort of redoubt against anything. But they're just big slaughterhouses."
Ben put his hands in his pockets, and hunched a little as if he was cold. He sniffled before continuing. "You ever lead one of the big wars?" he asked. "I'm guessing no. bit young for it, bit nice." Ben said, not really waiting for a reply. "I know, kindness isn't weakness and all that. I met one who wasn't kind. He was like some animal who had been kicked and was looking for someone to bite."
Ben kept going, on some sort of tangent now. "Back on Armageddon, my platoon leader, some young Lieutenant got himself killed, and I was the highest rank NCO. So they promoted me for a bit and made me lead. And my unit was fighting in a hive city. Don't even remember which one anymore. And it was this fuckin' meatgrinder. They just told us everyday to keep moving forward, and I know what they say about orks. They're stupid, but they're cunning. Traps everywhere, ambushes, enfilade fire. We'd have to dismount for engineers to clear rubble and then they'd shoot us to bits." Ben swallowed loudly like he was having trouble with the story.
"And one day, they pull my unit from the front. And here I am, dirty, I haven't shaved. Haven't slept more than an hour a day if that, no ammo, hungry. And this private comes up to me and tells me an Inquisitor wants to see me. So I go, right, not like I can say no. And he's thinkin' big war stuff, and asking me these questions that made me want to kill him. How many bodies did I lose, what did I learn, can I learn more with more bodies, how long until we take this street or that block. And all I can think about is how they aren't bodies, or fuckin' meat in a goddamn slaughterhouse. That they're Jan whose intestines I held as she died, or Ken who got cut in half in an ambush."
At this point, Ben pulled out another lho-stick, and lit it on fire. "I dunno what the point is. I dunno. I guess thanks for not being that kind of Inquisitor. At least to our faces." Ben said, looking up at Zhevon. Ben sighed loudly and spit. "Think we're going to see anything down here?" Ben asked.
Responding now.
Meat is cheap in the Imperium of man. No one will miss the poor goon crushed by the pod
Use a drop pod, I've never heard a Space Marine complain about lack of attention when making an entrance.
Erik listened idly to the conversations going on around him. He was taking off his sword belt and hung it off a bed post. He undid a strap that kept his chainmail and leather top off. He draped the armor over whichever bed he was going to end up sleeping at, and rubbed his shoulders. He was wearing a simple cotton shirt with a deep V down the middle, exposing several scars on his chest.
Erik picked the sword belt back up, and put it back on. He had learned that being armed was always better than being unarmed. "If you'll excuse me a moment." Erik said, turning and walking downstairs. He walked over the the bar, and took a bottle of wine, leaving several coins on the bar, now equipped with necessary equipment, Erik meandered over to Lazuli, taking small drinks from the bottle.
Erik, pulled a chair up to the Golem, who was sitting on the ground in the lobby. "How are you doing?" Erik asked patting the Golem's hand that could crush him. The small mountain was still, then shrugged. "You know I don't like to kill." he said quietly. Erik sighed, and shook his head before taking another drink. "Yeah, I'm sorry I asked that of you. I tried to prevent it, I did. They just weren't having any of it. But I'm afraid this road will have us seeing a lot more bloodshed."
Lazuli nodded once. "I know you did Erik. What are they talking about up there? Is the boy okay?" He asked, showing genuine concern. Erik smiled to him. "Don't worry, the pirate will live. He woke up before I came down. We have options to continue this quest. The Dwarf would have us take to some tunnels under the city that the dwarves use to get around. The young man with the white hair knew the man who died. He was a wanted contender to the throne. He proposes we collect the bounty if we must, and use his head as leverage to get out of the city. Which do you prefer?" Erik asked.
The Golem scratched his head, an entirely human learned motion for a being that didn't feel anything to scratch. "I think we should turn in the boy. The Dwarves might want to study me." Lazuli said, sounding like he was worried about what the latter could entail. "I agree." Erik said standing up.
Erik walked halfway up the stairs and stopped. "I'll pass your opinion along. I'll be down later to play a song. Help soothe your soul, friend." Erik said as he continued up, drinking bigger gulps from the wine.
When Erik made his way into the room, he would open a window small bit, and take out his pipe, packing it to smoke. He would light it, and walk across the room, acquiring the small lute he played. "Helps me think." He said, to no one in particular. He sat on the window sill, sending small wisps of smoke out into the night, as he strummed the instrument. He wasn't paying attention to what he did, but a quiet melody emerged.
"Lazuli and I are for collecting the bounty. It seems more open, less shadowy. Less dangerous. My friend is nervous of dealing with an entire dwarven congregation as well. He worries they may want to study him." Erik said. He'd stop strumming to remove the pipe from his mouth and drink the wine, before putting it back down and continuing with the quiet song and smoking.
Erik picked the sword belt back up, and put it back on. He had learned that being armed was always better than being unarmed. "If you'll excuse me a moment." Erik said, turning and walking downstairs. He walked over the the bar, and took a bottle of wine, leaving several coins on the bar, now equipped with necessary equipment, Erik meandered over to Lazuli, taking small drinks from the bottle.
Erik, pulled a chair up to the Golem, who was sitting on the ground in the lobby. "How are you doing?" Erik asked patting the Golem's hand that could crush him. The small mountain was still, then shrugged. "You know I don't like to kill." he said quietly. Erik sighed, and shook his head before taking another drink. "Yeah, I'm sorry I asked that of you. I tried to prevent it, I did. They just weren't having any of it. But I'm afraid this road will have us seeing a lot more bloodshed."
Lazuli nodded once. "I know you did Erik. What are they talking about up there? Is the boy okay?" He asked, showing genuine concern. Erik smiled to him. "Don't worry, the pirate will live. He woke up before I came down. We have options to continue this quest. The Dwarf would have us take to some tunnels under the city that the dwarves use to get around. The young man with the white hair knew the man who died. He was a wanted contender to the throne. He proposes we collect the bounty if we must, and use his head as leverage to get out of the city. Which do you prefer?" Erik asked.
The Golem scratched his head, an entirely human learned motion for a being that didn't feel anything to scratch. "I think we should turn in the boy. The Dwarves might want to study me." Lazuli said, sounding like he was worried about what the latter could entail. "I agree." Erik said standing up.
Erik walked halfway up the stairs and stopped. "I'll pass your opinion along. I'll be down later to play a song. Help soothe your soul, friend." Erik said as he continued up, drinking bigger gulps from the wine.
When Erik made his way into the room, he would open a window small bit, and take out his pipe, packing it to smoke. He would light it, and walk across the room, acquiring the small lute he played. "Helps me think." He said, to no one in particular. He sat on the window sill, sending small wisps of smoke out into the night, as he strummed the instrument. He wasn't paying attention to what he did, but a quiet melody emerged.
"Lazuli and I are for collecting the bounty. It seems more open, less shadowy. Less dangerous. My friend is nervous of dealing with an entire dwarven congregation as well. He worries they may want to study him." Erik said. He'd stop strumming to remove the pipe from his mouth and drink the wine, before putting it back down and continuing with the quiet song and smoking.
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