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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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>have to take care of those three during the day
>keep them entertained
>keep them clean
>keep them healthy
>keep them away from the Inquisition

wat do?
In the grim darkness of the far future there is only babysitting.

I go for it.

is there any rule that they must be alive at the end of the day?
I mean it's not that hard to entertain a corpse or keep them clean and healthy, also I'm pretty good at hiding bodies
Muppet Babies show with 40k?
Yes, there is.
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Organics require sustenance, perhaps a high-grade flavorless nutrient paste? They will be required to be sedated to allow easier placement of the feeding tubes down their nostrils into their stomachs.
report to the Inquisition.

>keep them healthly
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Purge them in the name of the Emprah
Daemons and xenos whores
Hand them over to Papa Nurgle.

He'll take good care of them.
>Babby Macha says Babby Tau to go play with Babby D
>Mere minutes later, tears and complaints
>"Zust as pwanned!"
you obviously never encountered a healthy zombie
Fetch Magos Genator Flavian. Also, the fleshy eyes of the tau could be replaced with far more efficient augmetic ones.
>implying the inquesition does not have entire facillities devoted to raising Xeno youth primarilly for vivisection and other persuits
babysit a young neophyte
Okay, we need to prevent the daemonette from humping the other two all the time. By having sex with her.

Macha will end up being mean with Babbytau, so, we need to find a way to prevent that too.
Well we can focus on only protecting the tau from the Deamon as Macha is destined to an eternity of virginity. Even if the deamon wanted to sex Macha it aint happening.
yes, but then, the little daemonette would be very frustrated.
Screw it, sex them all!
It wouldn't work on Macha, and then she would be very frustrated.
>Take girls to dance classes
>Have to sit with the other mothers
>only guy there
>none of the other mothers are MILFs

This single dad stuff is not as romantically rewarding as I thought it was gonna be...

>Playing with girls one morning before Guard duty at the garrison
>One of them puts a tiara on my head
>After we're done playing, I go drop them off at day-care
>The day-care lady is staring at me oddly
>Go to work
>Everyone is either staring or laughing
>Fellow Guardsman comes up, grabs tiara off my head, the entire Guard busts out laughing

My nickname around work is now "Princess"
It will be hilarious to see Babbytau try to promote the "Gweatew Gud"
>walks into work with a tiara

She would certainly do a better job at it than TIDF.
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You think that's bad?
>Tell Tau that naptime is for the greater good
>Ask Eldar to pin down the Daemonette to preserve a craft world
>Fuck the Daemonette

Elesh is the prettiest, as always.
Not only does she get a larger bow than Sheoldred but she also has a pretty dress? Someone's playing favorites.
>daemonette wants to play horsey on your leg

Well, that explains why he went crazy.

Friggin' time travel
Sheoldred gets two bows, like ponytails. I expect Sheoldred would actually be the favorite, being a nexus of black mana.
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Smart dog. You keep finding new ways to impress.

The rest of this thread, on the other hand..
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>Cotton Candy
>All that sweetness

I will eat them all up!


Doubtful. No one can match my talents, certainly not a child of the crude Shas.
The second bow is hidden behind her sister, I didn't see it until you mentioned it.
I only noticed it because I drew the picture, so it's fairly understandable. I still need to redraw it since I messed up Sheoldred's horns anyway.
Now, the same thing but with them being older. They are now your annoying teenage adoptive daughters.
> a pseudo rebellious activist
> a frustrated pretentious emogirl
> a showy teasing raver
Despite that, you have to take care of them as your own children.
No, we already did that many times.
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What?Its this shit again?

You know the drill guys: shoot them, frag them, roast them or disintegrate them, whatever weapon you have with ya.
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I ... guess you're right ...
Do we have art for this, though?
"Daemonette! Give Macha her Soul-Stone back!"
i'd only babysit hugetau
I'd choose the raver chick.
I'm sure thorugh sheer willpower, hardwork and dedication we can forge babby daemonette to grow up as the consensual reasonable daemonette we all know and love
Well let's see, give them respect and attention. Raise them as my pets- I mean kids.
Jesus, idk what would be more of living hell to endure, them as babbies or them as teens >>19384657
On a side note, why no ork babbies/ork-chan?
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burn them all !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Take them to the day care centre
Watch as the play with the various other baby races before leaving for work

Get called in half an hour
>Baby Demonette is humping things and being rude to the baby SoB's
>Baby Tau is trying to incite a riot and stealing all the toys 'For the gwater gowd'
>Macha has cause various young boys to get hurt in bizarre accidents in her quest to get a kiss (The baby emperor is out sick today with chicken pox)

Take them home again
Feed them
>Baby Demonette starts throwing food around
>Tau tries to convince the other's to share the food equally
>Macha still crying over not getting a kiss (The baby Emperor's parents had his god-parents around- turns out he caught a cold from uncle Nurgle)

Play kid movies- such greats as 'The Brave Little Scarab' and 'Quasidus-the bells of NotreDamus'
Waste a few hours with that
Take them outside to let them play
>Demonette keeps throwing things at squirrels
>Tau is trying to climb over the fence to 'conver' the neighboring Space Wolfs dog
>Macha gets covered in mud while playing, spends half the time crying
Eventually get them to start playing together
Demonette, Macha and Tau are all fighting over who is in charge
Try and get them to work together
>"Now Demonette, how would you feel if they did this to you? Yes it would feel bad wouldn't it?"
>"Tau, its better to talk to people into playing instead of taking their things and expecting them to play immediately"
>"Macha, if you make friends with these two you will be able to meet lots of new people, maybe you can introduce them to your other friend? The Emperor might like them"
Holy shit that actually worked

Gets dark
Take them back inside
Feed them again
Put on cartoons
watch as the all fall asleep

Get phone call
>Shit we can't come home til monday, can you look after them?
rolled 40 = 40

I cast summon Writefag IX
I smell a new RT campaign
who's writefag IX?

is that the most numerically powerful writefag you can summon?

>had koodyet
daemonette is gonna get koodies from baby nurgling
I could do a proper writefag of it, if you guys want me to try
rolled 5 = 5

Summon Writefag IX summons one writefag from the 9th level list, 1d3 writefags from the 8th level list of 1d4+1 writefags from any lower list
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>Give em grog an feed em juicy squigs ta make em big an strong like da boyz
>Let em play wiv da snotlings and squigs
>Teach em how ta break heads propa like
>Smash any umies oo' come callin lookin fer trouble


Get home from a long day of slaying greenskins. New coat covered in blood, bayonet dull, socks so damp my feet are wet and cold.

Bad day so far.

Eldar daughter is the first one I see, sipping some kind of emperor-damned awful coffee in a "green" paper cup as she reads over one of her blogs. How did she pay for that expensive coffee? Remind self to check stash of money in underwear drawer. Try to stay out of sight, just want to take a shower, get a dry pair of socks.

"Hey dad! Dad!"

Groan in my mind, contemplate suicide by lasgun, decide against it for now, turn around. "Pumpkin?"

"Dad, ohmahgawds. Did you like, hear about all of this going on? They're killing spacewhales dad! Killing them for their meat!"

Urge for whiskey rising, I can feel it in my very being. Try to keep calm, maintain straight face. Why is she wearing a scarf? Thermostat is at 69 degrees. Why glasses? She has perfect vision.

"That's... That's nice sugar, your old dad just needs to get out of his work clothes..."

A thousand litanies that she drops the subject... She does, Emprah be praised.
>perfect vision

>in 40k

also, it's funnier with babbies

One daughter down, activating evasion protocols. Servo malfunction in right machine limb, makes noise. Too much noise.

"So you're finally home? The MAN let you out of work, did he?"

Oh the blue one, the cold, "I'm so emotionally deprived" Tau. Must bear it, have to get clean socks.

"Yeah I'm home. Squig for di..."

"I told you, I don't eat meat! Meat is what everyone eats, I only eat..."

Blank sounds from head, ignore, ignore, ignore.

Daughter blows hair out of her eyes before placing headphones back on. Headphones painted black, those were yellow when I bought them for her.

"Tch, whatever."

She was so chubby and adorable when she was little. Contemplate where I went wrong as a father.

Decide it isn't my fault, continue pursuit of socks.
>Eldar daughter is the first one I see

Come on you gotta work with me a little bit...
Being a left-wing activist is a tau thing
And being an emo snowflake is an eldar thing.

That's where you fucked up as a father.
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Emprah had a harder time.
find an ork mek.

explain to him that these runts need more dakka, and need to make it more choppy to boot.

mek bolts them into kans. jobs a good'un.

kans don't work because pilots aren't ork. disgusting xeno babbies are locked inside for hours, and hopefully fall unconscious due to oxygen shortage.

come back 4 hours later with rivet gun, give the rivet gun to the mek as payment, because it is red and shiny. no good mek would refuse snazz gubbins.

feed disgusting xenos babbies if necessary, return xenos babbies to their disgusting families, collect money from parents.

Wait two minutes, because time doesn't mean shit in the warp.

babby demonette comes back as full adult demonette, i tell her i used to babbysit her.

she thinks that kinky. take her out for drinks with babbysitting monies.

have disgusting hot heresy sex.

mfw i can't figure out if she's underage or a bajilion years old.

>i have no face

>captcha was yourabro

brofist captcha. brofist.
doesn't matter, she's into ABDL ageplay, you'll have to babysit her all over again.
Think about turning around, calling her blueberry just to see how she'd react. Probably wouldn't hear me over awful music. Would pretend she didn't even if she did. Were you like this as a kid? That isn't possible.

You still remember when she was little, always talking about "Greatah goowd!" through those braces you'd had to get her. Miss the old days, whiskey urge nearly at peak.

Almost make it to room without seeing last daughter. Don't want to see her, do anyways. Too much of her. She can't seriously be planning to go out in that... I won't say anything, I won't say anything, I can't stop myself.

"Please tell me you're not wearing that outside of the house."

"Oh ho? What's wrong, too much... Skinnn?" She pulls the side of her skirt up, can clearly see where panties should be, but do not spot any, just more purple skin.

"Put some clothes on, you aren't allowed out in that."

"Ugh! Daaaaddd!" She stamps her foot. Almost wish the warp would overtake me so I wouldn't care, no such luck.

"No compromise. Panties and a longer skirt at least or you aren't allowed out. Ten PM curfew."

"But the music doesn't even really start until nine thirty!" Daughter squeals back, "And these socks are ALMOST pants."
Now I want to see what happens with the Daemonette.
The Tau enjoy good eyesight. The only problem with their vision is that it has a slower focus time (compared to Gue'la) on distant objects.

Stop complaining and let the man do his work.
what a slut
This daughter I like.
Those aren't socks. Socks are what you're wearing, those damp rags of cloth clinging to your feet. She isn't wearing socks. Those are something else, some kind of newfangled fetish you don't understand.

"Panties, skirt at least within an inch of knees, eleven PM, final offer."

"Aww come on dad... I'm not getting into any trouble. Ho-nest ~<3"

Feminine wile bounces off, zero effect against hardened dad carapace. Not even sure what she's trying to do here, not sure I want to know. Decide I don't.

"Tracksuit and period panties, eight PM and straight to bed after."

"Ffiiinneee! I'll be home at eleven thirty!" She whines even as she opens her panty drawer. See half of interior, don't think most of them qualify as underwear.


"Can't put anything past you. So can I uhm... Maybe...?" She tilts her head, bats her eyes.

How much does she need? Ten thrones? Twenty?

Give her twenty, seems to be enough.

"Thanks dad!" She throws her arms around me in a hug, daughter boobs against my chest. When did they get that big? Is that why she's always asking for bra money? Wonder if my mom has any she could give her. Decide against asking, she wouldn't wear them anyways.

Doesn't seem to be wearing one now.
Watch as she leaves, realize she didn't actually take any underwear out of her drawer. Contemplate going after her, realize she could warp out before I ever caught up. Might ground her later, probably going to be too intoxicated to attempt such action upon her almost assuredly late return.

Go into room, start shower. Wait. Water does not heat up, realize daughters probably used up all the hot water in the tank.

Abandon hopes of hot shower for now, check clean laundry basket.

Plenty of socks. Light pink socks. Daemonette daughter appears to have run my laundry along with hers, again.

Put on pair of pink socks anyways, go to dresser. Bottle of whiskey hidden in underwear drawer, along with only half the cash I remember placing there.

Bottle was full yesterday, don't recall having drank at all yesterday either.

Sit down on bed, drink right from bottle. Stare at pink socks. Glance at baby picture on wall, see all three of my adopted daughters back when they were small and cute.

Drink more.
Your writing is like crack. Why can't I stop reading it?!
Right in the feelings you bastard.
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>my planet when
So many feels.
short, easily readable sentences, a lot of naughty words, sounds like something you'd actually hear from an average guy.
Keep drinking, lose track of time. Late show with Doomrider on, volume too low, controller too far to bother reaching for.

Bottle in hand feeling too light, realize it is empty. Contemplate getting up for more, remember there isn't any more. Add to list of to-do for tomorrow.

Sleep comes in fits, too many bad dreams, getting eaten by giant monsters. Ejaculating during ingestion.

Wake up suddenly but without movement, feel something cold and wet on my head.

"Geeze dad, you really need to take better care of yourself, you know?"

Glance over, daemonette daughter removes thermometer from my mouth, places in her own.

"Ah?! I-indirect k-kissu?! Doushio!?" Daughter puts her hands to her head humorously.
"Well you don't have a fever..." She places her hand to my forehead after removing cold towel, "And you don't feel warm now..."

"Oh, he's awake?" Eldar daughter comes walking into room with my clean laundry basket, notice a lot of pure white.

"So you noticed? I used some organic fabric restoration gel, it's all the rage on Isha's blog, she uses it to get out stains of all sorts of kinds." Eldar daughter sets down laundry, holds up pair of pure white socks for me to see.

Tau daughter pokes her head into room, blue hair still messy, chrome gauges still in ears. Tray of steaming food in her hands, most unusual.

"It's not much but I thought you might want something. So... Here." Daughter sets down food next to bed. See eggs, toast, bacon. Remember teaching her how to cook all of those things. Remember it like it was yesterday, when she was so tiny and enthusiastic.

Realize I have the greatest daughters I could ask for, when they aren't being such a hassle. They'll turn out right.

"How about tonight we all go out to dinner? As a family?" Ask them, see bright smiles and nods in return.

"Can I bring my boyfriend?" Daemonette daughter asks.

Feel sudden rise in blood pressure, anger swelling. Decide to agree and meet him at the door while cleaning lasgun.
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As an expecting father, I can only say... gif related man.
Thats kind of cute
She's not dating a Dark Eldar is she? Bunch of scum they are

She should go out with that nice Nurgle lad, works hard, understands how to use money, decent fellow, great with kids
Good luck. Don't ever plan on being in those shoes myself.

Cultist who doesn't have a job and takes a few credits at a heretical community college. You don't like him at first but he turns out to be utterly devoted and has a good heart, writes a book about his terrible childhood that becomes one of Tzeentch's "Best books" and goes on to be a successful writer who donates a lot to charity.
Now all we need to do is deal with those other boys your girls are looking at
Emperor preserve us, this thread is incredible.
Sweet tittyfucking Christ MOAR.
Come up with something and I'll write it, doesn't necessarily have to be related to what I just wrote if you have something else in mind.

Thread seems kinda dead.
Thanks for writing that it was enjoyable
The life and times of commissar Mc.gravy
Hmmmm.....perhaps an expansion on the cooking bit with Tau-chan?
Pretty generic but I'll do what I can


going to need another drink for this
I smother them with a pillow to prevent them growing up in this hellhole of a galaxy
Thanks for that hilarious read.
I really like the idea of all the WH40K races living together in a society, it just make so much not sense that it works.
How about a Black Templar P.I. attempting to take down the Necron mafia?
Mc. Gravy was not a young man by any means. He'd found his home on the battlefield after enlisting in the guard. He'd been a young man once, but those days had come and gone. Now he was aged, and the years had not been overly kind.

Still, he could hold a laspistol steady and make sure his men held the line equally so. For that, he was thankful.

Mc. Gravy only had one issue with people, and that concerned his name. Anyone who dared to make some horrible pun was swiftly and thoroughly disciplined, almost always by a las shot to the face.

Mc. Gravy likes his men's discipline like he likes his biscuits. Seasoned, hard, and free of bull shit.

He trained his men like he raised his children, his twin daughters going on to be quite successful soritas in their own right. Though not an overtly sentimental man, in his moments of drunken weakness, he was known for telling a tale or two about "his girls" back home.

All I really got for Mc. Gravy

mitebcool but doesn't have much to do with the thread
"Hey, dad's kinda sick or something." The daemonette mentions as she stops at the base of the stairs to adjust her thigh highs.

Her blue haired sister glances up from her book, some sappy teenage love-drama about a vindicare and a farseer.

"How sick?"

"Eh? Not like you to care." Her purple skinned sister smirks as she leans against the wooden railing of the stairs, substantial breasts squishing into the supports.

"It's not like I care, but I'm about to put this book away so I just thought I'd ask." The tau girl closes the book quickly and walks past her sister, ignoring her piercing gaze.

In reality, she felt the twinge of concern. It wasn't like dad to get sick, after all.

Before realizing it, she finds herself in the kitchen. For a moment she hesitates, before blowing a strand of her wavy, unkempt hair out of her eyes and setting to task. Skillets, butter, spatula...

"You shouldn't use real butter, you know. I only use..."

"Super duper organic butter that saves whales and grows trees, we KNOW." The blueberry rolls her eyes and doesn't slow her work.

"Just saying..."

"And for the thousandth time, I still don't care."
Ignoring her prissy "too holy for thou" coffee-drinking, Mechbook Pro typing sister, the Tau girl concentrates.

It's been a while since she's made breakfast for herself, let alone anyone else. She can still remember her dad teaching her, though. His calm, patient demeanor as he walks her through the steps again while he cleans up the mess she'd made with the eggs.

So lost in thought is she, that the bacon nearly gets too crisp, and super crispy bacon is disgusting. If it isn't decently flexible, it's ruined. Her dad had taught her that.

Soon she's got a tray loaded with everything she remembered how to make. A lot of food. Too much food.

"Huh? Did you cook that for dad?" Her Eldar sister looks up from a blog about recycling hemp tampons.

"No! I just... Cooked too much, is all. So I guess he can have the leftovers." She picks up the tray and quickly exits the room, not wanting any more disturbances.

She takes her time balancing the tray, and her Eldar sister quickly passes her carrying a basket of folded white laundry. Still, she doesn't let that phase her. The food doesn't need to get there first, just intact.
By the time she gets to the top of the stairs, she can already hear her sisters talking to her dad. So she hesitates for a moment behind the doorway, before steeling her reserve and poking her head in.

Her father looks first at her, and she can tell his eyes are going over her piercings and her messy hair. He worries too much, he's always worried too much.

"It's not much but I thought you might want something so... Here..." She carries the tray in and sets it down on the bedside table.

"I just made too much, is all." The Tau girl quickly adds.

>what you had in mind?
You sir are a gentleman and a scholar!

Sweet. Maybe something from the Daemonette's perspective? Maybe bringing a boyfriend home or something like that?
Yes, exactly what I had in mind!
Well I wrote something up but it keeps getting marked as spam for some reason and I'm not sure why
If you can't post it just put it on the wiki or something. Keep trying though.
Paste it into an image, obviously.
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Yeah guess I'll have to, can't seem to format it to work.
You take yet another brief moment to check yourself over in the mirror. Again.

Bright pink miniskirt that doesn't leave much to the imagination? Check

Super elastic black thong? You pull back the side and release it, and it *smack!*s into your skin with a pleasurable tone. Check. Unf.

Double pushup bra that turns large into ridiculous? You push them up a bit more and make sure you're flashing enough cleavage. Not quite as much as you like, but it will have to do.

The doorbell rings and you let out a squeal of pleasure before you can clamp a clawed hand over your mouth to stop it. You glance over at your dad, who now only looks more uneasy.

"I'll get it!" You shout and rush to the handle before he can touch it.

Flinging the door open, you see your boyfriend waiting quietly on the front steps. He's a bit taller than you, with spiked up red hair and chains all over. He's a Khorne worshiper, but you don't mind.

"Come in, come in!"

He does, a bit hesitantly after seeing your dad slowly push the two halves of the lasgun back together.

"Oh don't mind him, he doesn't actually mean it." You frown and pull him the rest of the way inside.

Dinner as a family goes a lot smoother than you had expected it to. As cold as your father was at the beginning, he seems to have warmed up to your boyfriend a lot more than you'd thought he might. By the end of the meal, you almost wish they didn't get along THAT well. Your dad is practically hogging him!

Still, as you watch the two banter back and forth about the latest edition of "Soldier of Cadia" magazine, you can't help but feel glad that it turned out like this.
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Excellent. This is surprisingly enjoyable old /tg/ style 40gay writefaggotry, Papa, with heresy galore. A blast from the past. Like you and Sergalfag. And now it'll only be another 20 minutes until the next line of posts. Weee.
Oh, I kinda meant for that one to wrap up there...
Please tell me this is taking place post Maxverse. Please?
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Would kind of have to be, wouldn't it?

The Emperor sits rigidly, perhaps a bit more than he'd intended. The baby boy on his knee looks up at him with a wide, innocent expression as he gnaws on his small baby-safe power fist.

For basically being a deity, he's a bit flustered at just what it is he should do. After all, things with his last sons... Well... They didn't exactly turn out well.

"Dude, I totally need your mother to come back. Or for you to grow up enough that I can at least like, take you surfing or something, man."

His little half chaos-god son just giggles, and the power flickers precariously again.

"Well at least you didn't shatter the lights again, dude..."

"Guah!" His little son agrees, beating the plastic powerfist against his dad's golden-armored knee.

"No no, you use it like... Ah, never mind man, I shouldn't quash your creativity."

The Emperor almost audibly sighs in relief as he hears the door open an hour later. So far junior had been mostly entertained by a rather alarmingly inappropriate puppet show by a mad-doc, but as his son was too young to make sense of any of it, the Emperor didn't interrupt. Not even when it came to the part about total dismemberment and incorporation into a giant half-machine half-flesh implement of zzap guns and rokkit launchas.
"Oh hey hun, how was your day? Little dude and I've just been chillin." The Emperor tilts his head back to watch his raven-goddess wife walk into the kitchen. There are visible bags under her eyes and she looks very strained.

"You have... No idea!" She comes into the living room and crashes down hard onto the couch, "How much trouble Max and his little damn Vindicare have been. I swear, when I formulated the plan to bring him back I never... Ugh!" She crushes a voodoo doll that resembles a grey knight wearing a commissar hat in her fist so hard that the head pops off.


Max bolts upright in bed, sweating profusely and grabbing at his head with both hands.

"Fucking shit, I thought... Damn that was not a good dream..."


"Eh? I thought your plan was going groovy, babe."

"No. No it is certainly not groovy. Not at all." Tzeentch sighs into her palms, before looking up at her son as he blows bubbles. Bubbles that turn into pure warp energy. She wipes his lips with a small cloth.
Oh how I've missed reading HLQ!

No offense pops, but your more recent stuff hasn't had the flare of HLQ.
"Oh. Well that sucks, dude. I mean babe."

"Indeed. What's our son been up to today, hmm?" The raven-goddess reaches down and scoops her little boy up, which draws an excited little scream and wide toothless smile from the small blue-hued boy.

"Eh not much. I tried to test out his grasp of warp energies with a few of the little tests in that baby book, but he set that on fire before I could get to the third step so I gave up. Little dude has style, though. Fire was all kinds of colors before I put it out." The Emperor shrugs.

"Honey..." Tzeentch's eyes move dangerously past where the Emperor is seated, "What might that be?"

The Emperor almost wishes he were back on the golden throne. By himself, how could he have forgotten to put that away?!

"Oh that's nothing, dear. Really dude, you should probably just like ignore that...Ah..."

Tzeentch makes a small beckoning motion and draws the object toward herself almost effortlessly. A glowing neon green child-size surf board with a highly stylized artist depiction of Max and his harem of babes, Max standing upon the corpse of Horus, sunglasses on and arms crossed.

The raven-goddess just looks back up at the Emperor, who nearly squirms in his armor under the gaze.

"Well I mean, like. I thought maybe the little dude would need a board eventually or something, so man I got together and started working on it and stuff..." He stalls, trying to figure a way out of this.

When, much to his relief, the door is kicked open and a grinning man in grey power armor waltzes in.

"Yo! Where's my favorite god-child at!?"

>wanted to get back on a good sleeping schedule
>you knew that wasn't going to happen, Papa
>yes I know but I...
>No, stop lying to yourself. You knew today would be the same as every other day
Writer's curse. Always difficult to meet expectations set by previous work, which seems nigh impossible to trump.
Any news on that eight sequel?
Also I really should probably get some sleep...
I wasn't here when all the previous threads and storytimes happened, so this is pretty fucking hilarious and good to me. If the past was better, holy fuck, I regret not getting here sooner.
>they can write, but it won't be epic.
The one I've been working on in between posts and whatnot for the last few days which now has over 600 lines of dialogue/action?

Not really...

If you liked that, you should read heretical love if you haven't already. Its all on 1d4chan, I recommend scrolling down to the actual links to the threads, for the full experience.
rolled 72, 28, 2, 17, 87, 4, 57, 70, 5, 67, 78, 94 = 581


Papa, you should get some sleep. This thread will probably be around when you wake up. Great reading material man.
Yeah probably, I'm all out of vodka now anyways and the rum is gone too...

>not even a single 1
Guess I won't be ending on fishvorerapehuehuehueBRnoisemarines, than

But if the thread is still up tomorrow... We'll see...
I want babbies, not teenage brats.
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Too bad fully half of them grow up to be murderous.

Ever read the original fluff for Space Marines? They were all murderous savages. They basically recruited people too sociopathic to be in the guard to be marines.
FINE. Murderous AND with a patricidal streak.
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What's this?
anyone going to save the thread ?
This shit archived yet?
There. Papa-N's writing is a gift onto mankind and must be preserved.

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