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/tg/ - Traditional Games

File: 1343410079054.jpg-(105 KB, 806x1200, venus_WIP2.jpg)
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All right, friends, it's been the promised two weeks. Let's pick up where we left off on the Warhammer High road trip!

Last time, the group landed in Hesiod and learned a little about how incredibly different things are on Nocturne. Venus and the gang sent messages home, and Alex discovered that his asshole father, George...I mean, Joseph Carlin is in orbit.

Alex sat down at the table he had selected for lunch and tried not to make eye contact with any of the people around him. The little group of Terrans and iceworlders were drawing a few stares in the little tavern they had picked, but most people were just ignoring them. Freya was trying to extract more information about his father from him. “Your Dad, you think he’s going to come here and get you?” Freya asked.
“I sincerely hope not, for his sake,” Alex said darkly. He nursed his drink and glared into its depths. “If he’s smart he won’t even contact me.”
No sooner had he said that than the vox at his waist vibrated. Alex grabbed it, flipping it open.
“You get reception on the local network? I don’t,” Freya said.
“I shouldn’t, unless it’s a frequency a family member has,” Alex groaned. “Damn him.” He stood from the table and marched out of the tavern, gripping the vox in his hands.
He emerged into the blazing red sun and pressed the call button. “Hello?”
“Alex, good to hear from you!” his father boomed. “How are you?”
Alex drew a weighted breath, let it out slowly. “Just fine. Yourself?”
“Awful, but that’s a story for later. Do you know if there’s a Mechanicus station in Nocturne?”
“A Mech…yeah, of course there is, at the edge of the system. And a single sensor pulse would have made it clear,” Alex said, surprised. “What’s wrong?”
“Like I said, long story. You go have fun. I’ll talk to you later.” The call cut off.
Alex stared at the vox in his hand, surprised. “The fuck?”
After a few finishing inscriptions, the present was almost done. Venus beamed at the results of her handiwork. “Awesome. He’ll love it,” she said. She wiped some sweat from her hands with a rag and hunched over the alloyed gold and stone assemblage. “Hmm…gonna need to find someone in town who can finish it…”
One quick rinse and change of clothes later, Venus was scurrying through the substantial craftworks market in the city, gift components in hand. Having located the shop listed in her quick perusal of the local directory, she arrived at the unassuming little shop. After an impressively short wait, the gift was assembled. She held it up to the light in the little store and inspected it. “Perfect.” She turned to the craftsman behind the counter and paid up as fast as she decently could, and hauled ass to the tavern they had selected for lunch.
She arrived just as Alex finished his perplexing call. “Alex!” she called as she approached.
He turned on his heel and spotted her, waving. “Hey! Glad you could make it!”
She came to a halt a few feet away, gift box concealed in her bag. “What’re you doing out here?”
“Taking a weird call,” Alex said, pocketing his phone. The thermo gear he was wearing made him stand out even more than his pale Terran skin, but at least he didn’t feel like he was dying any more. “My father’s apparently not here for me at all. Or, he was, and his ship broke. Or something, fuck, I dunno. He asked if there was a Mechanicus station nearby. I told him about the one in the Oort cloud.”
“Well, good, because that’s the only one.” Venus looked over her friends’ thermoreflective gear. If she tilted her head right, she could see the light glimmer off the metal and fiber strands under the thin fabric. “Your thermo kit looks good.”
“Thanks.” He shifted his shoulders a bit as they walked into the tavern. “I was worried that it’d make me stand out even more.”
“Well, who cares if you do,” Venus said. “You’re a guest here.”
“People have been glaring at me since I arrived,” Alex said. Venus cocked an eyebrow.
“Show me.” She paused just before the door to the seating area.
Alex walked up to the table where the others were sitting and sat down as normal, joining the conversation the others were having.
Sure enough, several patrons stopped to stare or glower. As soon as Venus walked in, however, the looks vanished, replaced with surprise or reverence. She shook her head as she crossed the room. “Troubling,” she said quietly.
“Hey, there she is,” Freya said as Venus approached them.
Venus paused to slide her arms around Jake’s neck as she stopped at the table. “Hey, guys. How was your morning?”
“Getting to see the Grand Highway was awesome,” Jake said. “I wish all the roads in the hives were that well-maintained.”
“That would be good,” Venus said, kissing the crown of his head and sliding into a seat. The whole room stared.
Remilia downed her drink and caught the waiter’s eye. “I’m glad you’re here. Dare I inquire why there’s soot on your bandana?”
“Not until after the party tonight,” Venus said. “I don’t want to ruin the surprise.” She daubed a few drops of water on the bandana and rubbed it clean. “Good catch, though.”
Venus’ vox buzzed. She grabbed it out of her pocket and stared at the ID. “It’s…it’s the Tide.” She opened it up and muttered into it. “Hello?”
“My Lady Venus, this is Comm Officer Wainwright. A Rogue Trader aboard the vessel Corundum Star has just arrived in-system and is burning for the Mechanicus station at the Oort cloud. Shall we hail the ship?”
“No, I knew it was coming. Just let me know if it breaks for a new heading,” she said quietly.
“Aye aye. Iron Tide out.” The line went dead.
“Well, it seems the Star is headed for that station,” Venus said. The waiter took her order and replaced Remilia’s drink.
“Good, he’ll be out of the way,” Alex grumbled. “Trust me, if he comes planetside, he WILL make this entire journey all about him.”
“With any luck, we’ll be long gone,” Remilia said.
All right, that's as far as I got last time.

Now for another forty pages~

No, I get credit for this.
As the afternoon swung by, the group visited the city walls. The colossal structure encircled the whole city, brooding over its citizens like a scowling parent. The air up here was so windy that the party had to use caution crossing open stretches of wall, or be bowled over by the gusts.
All five donned sunglasses for the journey. They stared in silence over the plains of the Pyre desert, gazing in astonishment at the infinite fields of ash.
Remilia shielded her glasses from her blowing hair. “It’s…horrible. An entire portion of the continent…dead.”
“The entire planet, or close to it,” Venus replied.
Their guide, a star-struck young PDF Sergeant, eagerly showed them where the dunes were flat enough that the curvature of the horizon was plainly visible. “It’s like the ice caps of Fenris out there, only even more dead,” Freya remarked.
“Except for that. What’s moving out there?” Jake asked, pointing south over the grey ashes.
The Sergeant squinted. “I think it’s a Land Speeder.”
“I thought you guys didn’t use those,” Jake said to Venus.
“We use them all the time, just as a small proportion of our force composition,” she said. “I’d bet money that that’s a passenger variant, corralling Initiates on a trial.”
“In these deserts? Harsh,” Alex commented.
“Can’t have Salamanders that can’t take a little heat. And flesh-dissolving sulfur pits and Sa’hrk nests.” Venus shrugged. “Trust me, it’s better this way.”
By dinner, the group was back in the castle and thoroughly sunburned. Jake eased back into the chair in the middle of the sitting room, gingerly rubbing lotion into his scorched Hiver skin. “Okay, ow.”
“SPF Fifty can not withstand the power of your girlfriend’s hellacious sun,” Freya observed. Damn her, her skin was already healing.
“I was fine yesterday!” Jake protested.
“We weren’t standing above all those nice, radiation-obscuring walls yesterday,” Freya pointed out. She lifted the menu as the voice on the other end asked her a question. “Yes, we will, thanks. No, I’ll come get it. Great, I will. Bye.” She set the vox down. “Food’ll be ready in half an hour.”
“Superb.” Alex kicked back in his own chair, swigging his sparkling water. “So…is it time?”
“I believe it is,” Remilia said, sitting down across from Jake. “Well…Happy Birthday,” she said, passing him a card.
“Oh, for goodness’ sakes, guys, is it guilt trip time already…oh my,” Jake said, upon seeing the store printed on the card. “…Good call. This will get spent within seconds of arriving on Terran soil, I assure you,” he said. “Keller’s Electronics is the best retail electronics chain in the Solar system.” He spotted the amount and nearly gagged, but kept his sudden reluctance suppressed. This was probably only a week’s allowance for her. “Thank you so much, Remilia.”
The pretty blond grinned happily. “I knew you’d like it.”
“Am I up?” Alex asked. He slid a tiny grey box across the table. “Eyes sharp, now.”
“Eyes…oh.” Jake didn’t even open the box, instead sliding it neatly into his lap. “Indeed. The pact is sealed.”
“What?” Venus asked, eyeing them both curiously. They turned to give her a solemn look.
“He has passed along powerful knowledge I cannot share with you. Trust me. All will become clear,” Jake said gravely.
Venus looked from one stone-faced teen to the other. “…Did I just witness a drug deal?”
“Oh no no, nothing illicit,” Alex said hastily. “Just private. Also,” he added, sliding a much larger box over to his friend. “I saw this and knew.”
“Oh yeah, you did,” Jake said, prying it open. A brand new vox sat inside, cushioned in a wide-brimmed hat that Jake suspected would fit him perfectly. “Excellent. Thanks, Alex.”
“Enjoy,” Alex said, sitting back in his seat.
Freya nearly slammed a black leather case on the table. “I think this will come in handy if we can’t find what I think we might find on the Tide on the next leg of the road trip,” she said eagerly.
“Excellent!” Jake laughed, flipping the metal latches on the case open. “This is perfect!” Inside was a dice set, two shrink-wrapped packs of cards, and six full sets of clay playing chips. “Oh, fantastic. Freya, this is awesome.”
“I knew you’d like it,” Freya happily said. “The trip will be more fun with me cleaning you guys out every night. I mean, playing every night.”
“Hurr hurr.” Jake closed the case and slid it under his seat. “Well I love it. Thanks.”
Venus leaned over to him and passed him a small stone box. “And here’s where I was this morning,” she said. Jake opened the box –
“It’s beautiful!” he breathed. He reached in and extracted a gold wristwatch. He held it up to the light and the alloyed gold band glimmered under the lights and Venus’ proud stare. “Venus, this is amazing. Did you make this entire thing yourself?” he asked.
“No, no, of course not, watchmaking goes straight over my head,” she assured him. “All I made was the wristband, the chain, the clip, and the stone’s setting.”
“What stone?” he asked. He turned the watch over. “Oh. It’s awesome!” he exclaimed. Venus had cut a tiny channel down the back of the Catseye and set the buckle of the wristband into it, so it covered the buckle slightly. A tiny hinge set into the bottom of the stone allowed the wearer to turn the stone slightly and fasten the band on under it, then move it back into place and clip it to a tiny clasp on the prong of the buckle, giving the illusion that the stone was holding it in place. “You made this too?” he asked. Also in the box were a length of gold chain, a small clip, and a pack of atomic batteries.
She demonstrated how to remove the back panel of the watch and slide the battery in, and how to remove the band and attach the chain or clip instead. Jake stared at it, entranced. “It’s magnificent, Venus! Thank you so much,” he said, kissing her on the cheek. “I have to be wearing this when I get home! Dad would love to see this, his father made watches in his free time at the Seminary.”
“Cool,” Venus said. “I hope you like it. I remembered that Catseye is your birthstone.”
“June…yeah, Catseye. Awesome,” he said, staring at the glittering band. The watch itself was blank save the hands and a single tiny quartz embedded where the 12 would be. “Is this…wait, is this Terran or Nocturnean time?” he asked.
“Terran,” Venus said.
“Wow. Wow.” Jake slid it on and fastened it. “I love it. Is it set?”
“No, but you can set it to your vox,” Venus pointed out.
“True.” He did so, then held it to his ear and smiled as he heard the tiny mechanism turning. “Thank you, baby.”
Freya waited until the exchange was over before tapping her present. “All right…you want to break in these cards?” she asked.
“Hell yeah,” Jake said, putting the watch accessories back in the box. “But not until after we eat, I think. Don’t want to get them greasy.”
“True facts,” Freya said, standing up. “I’ll go get it.”
She walked out of the room, stopping to grab an ID card and a money chip before she did. As she left the suite, she heard Remilia duck into her own room.
All right, a quick break for DarkMage.

Thoughts so far?
SE seems to be done for now. Time to post what I got.
At 3 AM, the residents of the El’Jonson household are usually fast asleep. Even Lion himself is rarely awake at this hour, preferring to remain as close to his humanity as he can manage. However, tonight is different as one of the occupants is awake. Lyra stared out her window, looking at the back garden with a blank face. She had awoken 30 minutes earlier and was no longer able to sleep no matter how hard she tried.

She stared at the many trees surrounding her mansion, noting their movement in the winds with barely any moonlight. Their leaves swayed side to side, mesmerizing her with their slow methodical movements. Her eyes began to tire once more, a sign of future sleep when she pried them awake, suddenly looking more intently. Something had moved down below in the trees.. She was sure of it.

Not even putting on any extra clothes then her pajamas, she made her way out of room and down the winding staircase, trying her best not to make any noise to wake her mother. She arrived to the back patio entrance, staring at the trees. She wasn’t sure what she saw, but there was definitely something hiding out there. Her logic told her that nothing could have made it into the grounds but she some part of her wanted to check.

Sliding the patio door open, she walked barefoot outside into her backyard. Although some of her uncles’ houses had created artificial forests and clearings around their households, her father had gone a overboard with his. He had actually planted Caliban’s deathworld trees around the manor, known for their tenacity to grow at a rapid rate. Although they were bound by the spire itself, the trees had done miracles in growing in every direction they possibly could. From the patio door it would take less than 15 feet to reach the trunk of one of the many trees.
She walked towards the forest with typical stubbornness, meeting whatever was hiding in the shadows head on. She disappeared into the mass of trunks, soon not even seeing her own house behind her. After several seconds of walking, she noted that she might be actually lost. Staring around her, all she could do is stare into the shadows, knowing full well she wasn’t alone.
Naturally, her thoughts went back to the visions of Caliban she had only a week ago. Even though it felt like a dream, the details were crystal clear in her mind. Her surroundings eerily reminded her of the exact same scene with the Calibanite lion. She remembered everything, in particular what the watchers had told her.
“I am the lion...” she whispered, thinking it ominous of dangers to come. The legends of Calibanite Lions were told to every child of Caliban. Only two ever existed in the history of the planet, thus adding to their near mythical status. Known for being of the most strongest beasts in Caliban history, they were ruthless killing machines of the people. It was therefore strange to receive a vision of watchers relating her to a beast of near unlimited bloodlust. The more she actually thought about it, the more terrified she became of the idea.
A slight shiver went down her spine as she suddenly felt very alone and cold in the dark shadows of the trees. Turning around to what she thought was the right way, she took steps forward, plowing on in the darkness.
“I am not a beast,” she muttered in defiance, probably to the shadows than anything else. The past week have brought many hurdles she had to overcome because of these visions. They had only brought her pain and suffering. She would be damned if she was going to listen to a bunch of omens dictate who she was. She clenched her fists. “I am Lyra El’Jonson.”
“I hope so.”
She looked up in surprise. She had ended up back at her house and for this she was thankful. Her mother was standing before her, looking worried. Florence was still in a nightgown staring at her daughter, clearly woken up recently.
“Mom, I... Did I wake you?” she asked, trying to get her thoughts together.
“I heard the patio door open. What are you doing out here?”
Lyra paused and turned back to the trees. “I thought I saw something outside. I went to investigate.”
“And it didn't cross your mind to tell the guards to do so instead?” Lyra wondered to herself why she hadn’t. It was regularly told to all the Primarch’s daughters to never take a chance with their safety, even though some of them blatantly disregarded such a warning. However, Lyra wasn’t one to do so and this made her feel a bit dull. Her mother looked at her, disappointed and more worried than earlier. “Come inside before you get sick in the cold.”
Lyra suddenly realized how cold she really was. She covered her chest with her arms, feeling a bit stupid for walking out barefoot, with nothing but an undershirt and her pajamas. As they walked back into the house, her mother asked the question that everyone seemed to be wondering about this entire week when it came to Lyra.
“Something the matter?”
She was about to say no like always, but suddenly realized this conversation had to happen even if she didn’t want it to. “Do you...” she started, trying to choose how to say the next line without sounding like she was crazy. “Do you believe in fate?” Her mother was a bit surprised with the question as she widened her eyes just a bit.
“You’ve never been the superstitious kind, Lyra” Florence commented.
“Things have happened this week that just seem so strange, I can’t explain it. Has that ever happened to you?”
She smiled and nodded. “When I met your father for the first time, I was shocked that he wanted to see me. I never imagined the son of the Emperor would be interested in a doctor. And when he asked me to marry him, have you as my daughter, meeting your uncles and coming to Terra... I had to believe that it was fate there for a little while. But then I realized how stupid it was.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“Your grandfather.” Lyra looked a bit surprised as her mother smiled, distantly remembering an old memory. “It was the first time I met him, and I almost couldn’t believe it was him. He did his best to make himself look simple, using his powers to downplay himself to make it more normal for me. We were chatting away when I told him how I couldn't help but feel fate had brought me here. He laughed in my face.
“He told me if he believed in fate, he would still be on Terra fighting a hopeless war while Humanity disappeared from the galaxy. For him, fate is a way for a simple man to explain how lucky or unlucky he is. He believes that every being is in charge of his or her future and there is no guideline on what you can or cannot do. He is living proof of that.”
Lyra stood there, knowing full well that would be something her grandfather would say. She realized that the accident was because of her actions and that everything since then was of her doing. She sighed, feeling a bit worse then before, but understanding she still had the power to change things.
“Thanks mom. I need that.” She realized she hadn’t mentioned her evening plans yet, and felt this was a good times as any. “By the way, I’m going out tonight.”
Her mother’s left eyebrow raised up. “Oh? Aren’t you grounded?”
“You never confirmed that. You said since I don’t have a bike, I won’t be leaving the house much. I am receiving a lift.”
Her mother looked at her, clearly displeased by her daughter’s reasoning, but gave in since she was right. “What could be so important that you are testing my limits?” she asked, and Lyra smiled.
“Felix Severus is taking me out on a date.”
Her mother’s other eyebrow raised, clearly surprised. “Oh. I guess we can let this slide then.”


That's all for the moment. I haven't been able to write as much as SE so I will be posting my material in smaller chunks.
Man, we started the thread too early.

Oh well. Onwards!
The streets below were congested with people. The Space Wolf effortlessly navigated the crowd, glancing at street signs until she found the restaurant she had called. Popping in and finding it packed wall-to-wall, she found a spot in line and settled in to wait.
“Can you believe it? Another smash-and-grab,” someone in the room muttered. Freya extended her hearing to that little corner of the room.
“I know. Was it the same guy?”
“Yes. They didn’t get a picture, but it was him.”
“Worthless criminal vermin,” the second voice grumbled.
“I know, right? Fucking Terrans. They come here expecting the lap of luxury on a Legionary homeworld and rob people when they don’t get it,” the first replied. Freya risked a glance at the speakers through the crowd. The first was a stocky man in the robes and hat of a whaler, the second a surveyor for the mining teams by the gear at his belt.
The second one noticed her glance and stared back, glowering. Freya turned away. “Something to say, Princess?” the man muttered under his breath, clearly not knowing she could hear him.
Freya clenched her fingers until her nails cut her palm. She wondered darkly if the man knew the title he had used was actually accurate, and decided he probably didn’t.
She reached the counter at long last and smiled thankfully at the man behind it. “Order…” she glanced at the note she had scribbled. “8875.”
“Here you are,” the man said, reaching under the counter and passing her the hefty bag of food.
“Great, thanks,” she said, lifting it and offering up her payment, and a generous tip. She glanced over the receipt – all accounted for – and made to leave.
“Hang on,” the man said, looking at the tattoos on her bare arms. “You’re not-”
She turned on her heel and pressed her finger to her lips with a wink, then bounced off. The man stared at her as she left, but the pressing crowd bade him back to work.
Safely outside, Freya looked at her cut hand to make sure the cut hadn’t bled on the bag. It hadn’t. The tiny slit was already healing. She blew out a sigh of relief. “Good.”
“Excuse me,” a voice at her shoulder asked. She turned to see an Enforcer standing behind her. “Have you seen this man?” He lifted a blurry holo of a man with a gun sprinting away from the camera.
Freya blinked. “No. Why do you ask?”
“Because the man in question is guilty of at least two armed robberies, he’s dangerous, and he’s gone to ground hereabouts,” the Enforcer said flatly. “Please let the nearest Enforcer know if you see anything.”
“This close to the castle? What, is he dumb?” Freya chuckled.
“One hopes, we’ll get him faster that way.” The Enforcer curtly nodded. “Stay safe, ma’am.”
Freya shrugged at his retreating back and started the trip back to the castle. As soon as the Enforcer was out of sight, however, something black snaked in front of Freya’s leg, and she stumbled.
“Shit! Sorry about that,” a voice said. Someone grabbed her shoulder. She instinctively pulled free and took a step back. “Did I trip you?”
Freya glanced over the other person. A ragged-looking man in ill-fitting dark workers’ clothes and black steel-toed boots was standing there, looking at her funny. “Yes. Goodbye,” Freya said, resuming her walk to the castle.
“Sorry,” the man called after her. Freya paid him no need, thinking. She wasn’t sure, but that had felt deliberate to her. He didn’t look a thing like the man in the holo. She checked her pockets, clothing…nothing was missing. Her money was present. Her ID card was there. Her vox was there. So, he wasn’t a pickpocket?
She mentally shrugged as she put it aside. Whatever. It could wait. She was hungry.
Remilia returned to the room with the others, concealing a bottle behind her back. She sat back down at the table, listening as Venus described the Hall of Deathfire. “The forges aren’t equidistant, we just put them wherever the lava breaches the floor, so some are really far apart. And the GALLERIES! If I show you nothing else in my time here, I have to show you the galleries. There’s stuff on those walls art merchants would kill for. Technological and aesthetic art, all of it.”
“Sounds amazing, but I don’t think we should go. We ought to respect the Salamanders’ privacy,” Remilia said.
“I think they would be…hmm. Well, I don’t know. Some, I suspect, would be honored to have you, but I think most would resent it,” Venus said regretfully.
Remilia set the bottle down on the table with a discreet cough. “Who’s thirsty?”
Alex turned to see Remilia popping the cork on the bottle of Saerbis champagne. “Oh, hey. I could stand a drink. Where did you find it?”
“Brought it with me,” Remilia said. “Enjoy.”
“Excellent.” Venus held out her empty water cup and let her cousin pour her a cup of the bubbly amber drink. “Happy Birthday,” she said, clinking her cup with the others’.
“Oh yeah, I’m somewhat legal now!” Jake said, taking a sip. He immediately pulled a face and struggled to swallow. “For what it’s worth,” he added.
“Not to your taste?” Remilia asked.
“No offense, but how do people drink this stuff?” Jake asked.
“It’s an acquired taste,” Alex admitted, sipping his. “This is also…very fucking strong. Whoo.”
“I see.” Jake eyed his cup and placed it on the table. “I’ll pass, thanks,” he said.
The door swung open. Freya bounced in, arms laden with food. “Hail, for it is dinner and I bear sustenance!” she declared, dropping the bag on the table.
“Indeed,” Jake said, eagerly grabbing his meal. “Thanks, guys. This is the best birthday I’ve had in ages.”
“No problem, brother,” Alex said, downing some more champagne.
The group set about their food, and Freya relayed the story of the strange journey to the restaurant. “It felt deliberate. From the way he was standing, he would have had to move his leg pretty far to trip me. And he grabbed my shoulder. I think he might have been checking to see if I had a wallet on me,” Freya said.
“Despicable,” Venus grumbled. “Did the Enforcer see it?”
“Nope, he was gone.”
“It seems the drywall has begun to rot in the Drake King’s absence,” Venus muttered darkly. “If we weren’t on vacation, I’d put paid to this little crime spree.”
“Priority one when we get back, then,” Jake said. Venus looked up at him from her sandwich.
“You mean that?”
Jake shrugged. “Sure.” Venus smiled into her food, profoundly touched.
“Well…anyway, the guy at the counter recognized me,” Freya said. “He was the only one. So I think we’re probably good.”
“Has anyone been harassed by paparazzi since they arrived?” Venus asked.
“Nope. But then, we’ve been with armed guards the whole time,” Jake pointed out.
“Very true.”
After the food was gone, Jake retrieved the case and opened a pack of cards. “All right, what do you want to play, folks?” he asked, lifting the fresh deck. “How about simple poker, keep it straightforward?”
“Works for me,” Freya said, picking up a stack of chips. “Hmm…white is one, red is five, green is ten, blue is twenty five, purple is fifty.”
“All right,” Jake said. He pulled the jokers and rule cards out, then split and shuffled the deck with speed and casual ease that gave most of the others pause. He smiled blandly as he dropped a few chips into the pot. “Come on, who’s in?”
“I am suddenly filled with dread,” Remilia announced. Jake smirked.
As the sun dipped low behind the horizon, and the game wore on, Remilia, Venus, and Alex dropped out one by one, until only Freya and Jake, the gamblers, were left. For such a tactile and outgoing person, Jake noted, Freya had an unnervingly straight poker face.
She watched his hands as he lifted two more cards and slid them into his hand. Her eyes darted up to his face as he looked at what he had drawn. His heart leaped. He had drawn the five. He had the straight.
“I’m in two hundred,” he said, sliding some chips in.
“See your two, raise you one fifty,” Freya instantly said.
Jake nodded slowly. “Call.” He slid a few more chips in.
Freya offered up a feral grin and laid her hand out. “Six-high straight!” she announced. “Beat that!”
“Okay,” Jake said nonchalantly. He dropped his cards out on the table. “Nine-high straight.”
Freya’s face contorted as the others chuckled. “Son of a BITCH!” She slammed her cards down as Jake scooped up the pot. She glared at the cards that had betrayed her.
Jake smiled wanly. “So who taught you how to play?” he asked as he sorted his chips and shuffled the cards.
“My father used to play with a few Army and Astartes buddies,” Freya said. “He taught me. How about you?”
“My friends from middle school. We would play during every lunch and study hall,” Jake said.
“Hmph. Well, you’re good. I don’t even see your tells half the time,” Freya conceded. “And coming from me, that says a lot.”
“It does,” Jake agreed. “Let’s see…this is your last hand, innit?” he asked, eyeing her stack.
“It may well be,” she said gravely. She picked up her cards and chipped her ante in.
Jake glanced over his cards. Nothing spectacular, just a pair of fours. “All right, I’m in,” he said, chipping ten into the pot.
Freya met his bet and chucked three cards. Jake did the same. Freya looked over her hand and looked up at him, blank-faced. “I’ll open. Forty,” she said, dropping a fifty into the pile and removing a ten.
“See your forty, raise you twenty five,” he said, dropping some more chips into the pile. Freya hesitated, searching his face, and nodded.
“All in,” she said, pushing her remaining thirty into the middle.
The others leaned forward as both set down their hands. Freya had a pair of aces with a king, Jake had three fours.
“Argh! I am slain!” Freya groaned, slumping back into her chair and clutching her heart.
“Just as planned,” Jake said mildly. He scooped up the last chips and cards. “Nice game, guys, that was a lot of fun.”
“I was taking it easy on you,” Freya grumbled, shaking his hand with every sign of reluctance.
“Of course you were,” Jake soothed.
Did I just catch /tg/ on a slow day or something?
Blame me for that one. Me and my Eye of Terror Campaign (I came up with it while writing for this BTW)
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I'm watching the opening ceremony atm, but I'm gonna read your stuff, don't you worry.
>mfw playing CoC, watching the ceremony and more chapters of Road Trip

Fear not, I'm not fishing for asspats, I was just wondering if I should come back later.
That's ok, I'm watching the ceremony as well, while writing for this, while searching for a map for EoT, and writing stuff for EoT, and going an essay for Uni. Multitasking is a joy.
Remilia stood and stretched. “Well, as fun as that was, I’m turning in. We have a lot of walking on the itinerary tomorrow, I need to rest.”
“Me too,” Alex said, weaving a bit as he stood. “Man, that’s strong stuff,” he said, waving at the empty bottle of champagne.
“Thanks for everything, guys, that was a great birthday,” Jake said contentedly, clipping the box of chips shut. “And Venus, baby…the watch. Seriously. Awesome. You’ll understand if I don’t wear it around, right? During tourist-time, I mean?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said. She stood too, and cleaned the detritus of their meal away. “All right…I’ll see you all tomorrow. Alex, if your father bothers you too much, really, tell me about it. One snap of my fingers he’s out of our hair.”
“I want him inconvenienced, not liquefied, but thanks,” Alex said. He grabbed his own effects and headed out. “See you guys tomorrow.”
“Bye, Happy Birthday Jake!” Remilia said, shutting the door behind her.
Jake sank into his chair and pulled the watch back out, staring at it. Venus leaned over him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m so glad you like it.”
“This is the kind of watch people on Terra go to interstellar trade shops to buy,” Jake said. “It’s amazing. I really have to show Dad.”
Venus put the watch back in the little stone box and clipped it shut. “Go get ready for bed, baby, Remilia’s right. We have a lot of walking to do tomorrow.”
“Yeah? What have you got planned?” Jake asked.
“We’re going to going to tour the markets a bit,” Venus said. “Then, I want to show you guys the craftwork district where the city hubs are.”
“Cool.” Jake stood and piled his presents on the table. “Man. I know I shouldn’t…I do. But that card from Remilia…yikes.”
“How much?” Venus asked. Jake passed her the card. Venus’ eyebrows rose when she saw the number.
“No kidding.”
“Jake,” Venus said flatly, making eye contact with him. “I hereby order you to not feel guilty.”
“…Okay,” Jake slowly replied. “Whatever you say.”
“Good.” Venus nodded primly. “Now…get ready for bed.”

Alex finished up into the bathroom and emerged into the darkened bedroom. He weaved his way across the room and fell face-first into the bed.
“…Little drunk?” Freya asked from the pitch-black room.
“Lil’ bit.” Alex groaned. “This was a huge mistake.”
“Featherweight,” Freya snorted, waving the lights up. And she had been all ready to play, too.
“You gotta barf?”
“No, just sleep for eight hours,” Alex moaned. “I’ve turned off the vox and switched off the room line, so no disruptions.”
“Good.” Freya slid into bed and gingerly rubbed his back. “Uh. Sleep tight?”
“I hope,” Alex said.
i'd just like to to say great stuff SE all your stuff is brilliantkeep it up
Somneone Else is away at the moment, and I just had to De-bloat a Sheep, so I need something to distract me from what I just did. So, on with Trip into Hell.
>Last time, Ahriman was busy operating as a psychic computer for the Planetary Defence Systems, shooting down the Ork Roks, we turn now to Julius Pius, and what he sees from the ground.
1. War is hell. A saying as old as war itself. Julius had read that saying many thousands of times, in many thousands of ancient works. But one thing you never read, that the ancients never said was that war was beautiful, even if that beauty was dark, harsh and inhuman, repulsive and yet attractive at the same time. These thoughts passed through Julius’s mind as he watched the fireworks blaze far above him. Shells, debris and other flotsam and jetsam of battle smacked and bounced off Port Huron’s voids, the endless flickers and flashes of energy emanating from them lighting up the sky like a stormy aurora. The contrails of Imperial and Ork aircraft formed vivid patterns high above the city as they duelled in the autumn sky. He couldn’t see much more, where the Orks were landing or what they were doing was a mystery to him, and being honest he didn’t much want to know. He had his duty, keep the troops supplied, and that would be what he would do, when the time came. There was nothing for them to do now until the bullets started flying, and so he sat there, watching the world ripping itself apart. Around him his section similarly stared open mouthed at the sky like awestruck babes, mirroring his own expression. He’d lived on Terra, seen the Emperor Himself, had tea with the Primarchs and gone on trips with all their daughters, and yet this sight, this sight which could herald his own death still filled him with awe.
“This is a something I will tell my Grandchildren about.” Dyllion murmured as a Rok was vaporised by a direct hit far above them.
“Yeah, if you live long enough to have grandchildren.” Julius added. He’d swiftly warmed to his squadmates, and they to him. They’d spent the night swapping stories around a Promethium burner, as the shields continued to bear the brunt of the enemy’s inaccurate planetary bombardment. Flynn was a genius with machines and spent a lot of time tinkering with the C-80s engine, someone who on a different world would have been swiftly indoctrinated into the Mechanicum and trained as a Tech-Priest. He and Farah would get on like a house on fire, were they ever to meet.
Scvott was a pilot cadet in the Seadelant PDF, who hoped to join the Imperial Navy and see the Galaxy. If he had his way, he’d have been one of those pilots duelling in the skies above. With his gung-ho attitude, he reminded Julius of Andrew, Hana’s boyfriend who also had military aspirations, though he wanted to join the Army, not the Navy.
Dyllion was the son of a dockworker at the spaceport, the strong and silent type. He spoke little, but his was a reassuring presence, and of all of them he was the strongest physically.
Summer though, she spoke little and didn’t speak about her past. She always seemed slightly distant, but as the only woman among them Julius could hardly fault her for that. In fact, he kind of knew how she felt, for so much of his life he’d been the minority, outnumbered by the Imperial Daughters, who he’d been brought up with. In fact, this was the first time he’d been with a bunch of peers who were not the sons of nobility or the upper classes, these people were more like Jake than anyone he’d met before. He idly wondered what Jake’s reaction would be when he told him about this.
He noticed with interest the camera crew standing on the wall nearby, filming the spectacle for the planetary news services. They finished and headed down the wall and towards where they were lounging. Noticing the CDA bands on their arms, they detoured over towards them.
“Excuse me, we’re with the Seadelant Broadcasting Corporation, the SBC, and we’re looking for people to interview. Keep up morale and all that.”
They exchanged a few questions with Scvott and Flynn, while Summer politely declined and Dyllion refused to comment. As they turned to Julius, Scvott mentioned to them that he wasn’t from Seadelant, he was an offworlder.
“Oh, you are? Who are you, and where are you from son?”
“Persson. Oll Persson Ser, from Calth in the Thousand Worlds.”
“Ultramar? What’s an Ultramar boy doing here on Seadelant?”
Before his mind could fully process the question and connect with his fictional back-story, he said “I was on my home from a trip to Terra.”
There were audible gasps from his squadmates. He’d clean forgot he’d deliberately not made mention of Terra at all, only that he was a native of the Thousand Worlds, and he’d been visiting relatives elsewhere. Now he was up for it.
“So, you were on Terra when the shooting incident happened. Is that comparable to what’s happening now?”
Julius winced. That was the one think he had been hoping to avoid.
“They are two very different things Ser. The assassination attempt on the lady Morticia was a tragedy for the entire Imperium, and she could easily have died. This though, if the worst comes to the worst many thousands, maybe millions could die. Does her life count for more than those lives, is her importance greater than all those who are willing to lay down their lives to defend our Imperium?” Julius didn’t quite know where that came from, but he spoke it with such passion that he saw the film crew were moved.
“I’m not trying to lessen her ordeal, or make it sound frivolous, I’m not. But that is a rather stupid question to ask right here, right now. The Daughters are important, but they’re not here now standing shoulder to shoulder with the brave men and women who are about to face the Greenskins on the battlements yonder. Leave them out of it, and focus on the men and women who count those who will die for your world. I’m an offworlder who volunteered to stand with this planet’s native sons and daughters in the defence of their world, your world, and I honestly couldn’t be more proud.”
All of this poured out of Julius without him quite realising what he was saying. All his frustration at the last few months poured out.
“Thank you very much for that, Oll. Your story will be an inspiration all over Seadelant.” And with that, the film crew departed, somewhat hastily as a shell landed against the shield close by.
When they were gone, Julius found his squadmates clustered around him, demanding answers. “You’ve been to Terra? Why didn’t you tell any of us?” Summer demanded.
“I didn’t think it was important. I know I’ve caused a stir already, I didn’t want make a bigger one.”
“Well you failed on that count, Oll. Your face is going to be plastered all over the SBC now, the brave offworlder standing in defence of our world alongside its native sons. Good propaganda, very stirring.” Scvott dodged Julius’s throw, laughing.
“So, you’ve seen Terra? What was it like?”
Julius had to think of that one for a while. “A mixed bag. Some parts, like Startseite and the Merican hives were nice, but there’s still poverty, even on the very doorstep of the Emperor’s Palace, and the atmosphere is still heavily polluted despite the years of Geo-Engineering. It’s not the perfect place everyone thinks it to be, in fact I’d rather live here than on Terra any day.” That was close to the truth, Terra was not the bundle of roses many across the Imperium thought it was.
“And Calth? What’s that like?”
Julius smiled, while trying to remember from the Holos what Calth was like. “A lot like here. Your world reminds me of Calth, the clean air and bright sky, which is one reason I’m glad I’m able to help you protect it. I can imagine what it would be like if Calth came under attack, and was ravaged by some enemy set on slaughter and despoilment. I’d rather die than see that day, for either of our worlds. Now come on, we’ve had our time in the spotlight, didn’t Flynn have that joke about the Eldar…”
All right, back, fed, watered, and ready to resume.

Hey, let's check in on the fathers of the kids on the Road Trip.
Forgefather Vulkan leaned back against the frame of his balcony door and smiled. The slate in his hands was downloading a status message from Venus for their trip. He had just been wondering whether she had arrived safely. The timing was perfect.
“News?” Leman Russ asked. He and his wife Gairwyn had come over for an evening supper when the message had arrived. Fortunately for them both, Lord Dorn had been there for an unrelated strategy meeting at the same time. All three Primarchs could hear the news.
“Yes,” Vulkan said, thumbing the biometric swipe on the slate. A decrypted message appeared. “Excellent. You want to hear?”
“Sure,” Russ said, walking back into the study. Dorn was just standing up to go when he returned. “Hey. Letter from the girls,” he said.
His white-haired brother turned back. “Oh? What do they say?”
“Let’s find out,” Vulkan said. He sat down behind his desk in the large study and started reading. “’Dad, we’re safe on Nocturne.’ Safe is in quotation marks. Wiseass,” he muttered. Russ chuckled.
“‘The trip was went as well as hoped. You picked a good ship; Roemer’s a decent officer. One thing, though: he thought Alex and Jake were Royal family members, even though the manifest said otherwise. Any ideas?’” Vulkan slowly shook his head. “Nope. Never even met the man.”
“‘The trip was uneventful. Freya picked the officers clean at the dartboard,’” Vulkan continued.
“Hah! That’s my girl,” Russ laughed.
“‘Fair warning: some really dumb guy in the gym made a holorecording of Freya and Remilia sparring. Freya casually mentioned throwing him out of an airlock and he deleted the recording, but it might pop up again. Thought you might need to know,’” Vulkan read.
“If it does, somebody’s going to ‘volunteer’ themselves to be turned into a combat servitor,” Dorn said darkly.
“‘In that vein, remember Isaac? He was my old kickboxing instructor. He’s on the ship, and we sparred today. Seven years of losses avenged. Payback’s a bitch,’ and then a whole lot of angry smile emoticons,” Vulkan said. “Heh. They’re like an old married couple, I swear,” he laughed.
“When was this sent?” Russ asked.
“A few hours back…which seems oddly fast, but it’s a tiny file,” Vulkan said. “Anyway…‘Upon arrival, Uncle Ir’Sem’ – my Fourth Company Captain, a very good friend of Venus’ ” he explained – “‘formally greeted me and we exchanged the Icon, then took us on a quick tour of the place.’” Vulkan paused. “…This next part’s for my eyes, brothers. I’ll skip ahead,” he said. Dorn and Russ nodded solemnly. They understood. “‘By the time we were finally ready to go, it was pouring acid rain down in Hesiod. We had to land in the Castle itself, which worked out fine anyway. Alex and Jake both nearly collapsed from heatstroke, though, Dad, I’m worried.’ That does sound bad…good thing they packed thermo kit,” Vulkan said.
“‘Remilia and Freya are from Inwit and Fenris, so they weren’t much better off. Iceworlders, what are you going to do? Fortunately, they’re built for it, and they seem to be handling it well.’”
“Damn right,” Dorn said.
“‘The speech was public, unfortunately. I thought it went well, though. I included a recording. On that note, Dad, holy shit my formal uniform is awesome. Did you design this? Next time I complain about the responsibilities of the family, remind me that my formal uniform includes a Conflagration Gun and a Power Rapier. Plus a crown I could hock to buy my own ship if I wanted,’ and if you ever do, young lady, you’re joining a Penal Legion,” Vulkan added under his breath. Russ laughed again.
“‘On that note, Dad,’…uh oh, the Dad is in italics,” Vulkan said. “‘Funny how I had to learn from Fletsun’ – my Master of Sanctity – ‘about our shared gene-core issue. Why did you never see fit to tell me about it?’”
Vulkan coughed. Russ and Dorn both looked at him askance. “…Forget she said that. I suspect she may have misinterpreted something that happened while she was there,” he lied. “Skipping ahead a bit…ah. ‘Today was Jake’s birthday, and it was a lot of fun. Thank goodness the drinking age here is seventeen...’ oh damn it,” he muttered.
Ah, like this status report.
“Drinking ages. How ‘civilized,’ Russ said sarcastically.
“Bite me.” Vulkan read more of the letter. “‘I made him a watch in the Hall of Deathfire, which despite the name, was perfectly safe. I was vaguely disappointed.’ Har har har,” Vulkan said drily. “If you had been there three thousand six hundred years back, honey, you would have had to kill a drake on the way to the door. ‘Freya got him a leather poker set with clay chips, which he immediately put to use by fleecing the hell out of us.’”
“A man after my own heart,” Russ said with a grin.
“‘Remilia got him a gift card to Keller’s Electronics, which is perfect because he was thinking about making a new gaming rig before we go off to school. Alex got him some…thing.’ She put the ellipsis there, not me,” Vulkan said. “‘Seriously, I can’t get either of them to tell me what it was. We played poker until midnight and he kicked the crap out of us. Remind me to take him with me to Carshim or some other casino planet some time. And you should see the work he’s putting in at the gym. I’m so proud.’”
“I think I like this kid,” Dorn said drily.
“‘Before I forget, though, there’s one thing here that sort of bothers me. Well, two. First is that people are assuming Jake and I are already married. Apparently that contract with you he signed to work at Kouthry and live with me was interpreted inaccurately. We’ve cleared it up, but how did people here even find out?’ Search me, I haven’t even told all of you,” Vulkan said, glancing up at his brothers.
Russ shrugged. “Who would I tell?”
“I didn’t know,” Dorn said truthfully.
“Hmm. Oh well. ‘The other one is sort of more pressing. Apparently there’s been a huge surge in smuggling, pickpocketing, and armed robbery around here, and the blame falls squarely on foreign tourists and some gang calling themselves The Underground. Is this something I should address?’ Hell no, leave that to me. You go have fun,” Vulkan said under his breath. “‘Apropos of nothing, I’m so glad Remilia came. She feels a little intrusive here, but she’s so much more relaxed now, and we both feel better than we have since before Morticia. Speaking of, how is she? Did she get off to Albiona okay? How about Angela and that book she was writing? Is Farah’s little vacation kicking off already? How about Miranda’s and Furia’s vacations to Carshim and Aldric?’ I should mention that in my reply,” Vulkan muttered.
“Far as I know they all left all right. What’s this about Angela writing something?” Russ asked.
“Angela wanted to write something as part of the Scholastica’s public school programs, I think, something about how new schools should deal with students’ psychic power manifesting while they’re still students,” Dorn said. “Ask Sanguinius about it.”
“Hmm.” Vulkan read down some more. “‘The people here welcomed me with open arms, Dad. It’s so nice. You should return here more often, people are tripping over themselves for a chance to meet the Royal family. We went to lunch in a nice cafeteria yesterday and people were staring at us the whole time, which doesn’t seem so odd until you remember that the Salamanders live here amongst them all the time. Freya, on the other hand, was nearly pickpocketed at a restaurant this evening.’”
“What?” Russ growled.
“‘At least, she thinks it was a deliberate bump. Who knows? They didn’t take anything. On a nicer topic, though, two more days in Hesiod, then four in each city until we reach Skarokk. Six days there, then back on the Tide and off to Fenris. I know we were going to take a different ship, but apparently the greenskin vermin are pressing the Navy assets along the Void Walks trade lane pretty damned hard, so we’re taking the Tide instead.’” Vulkan tapped his chin. “Hmph. Things are getting worse out there.”
“Perhaps I will take the Phalanx out to those lanes and oversee the efforts of the Navy in person.” Dorn leaned back in his seat. “I will await Remilia’s return, though.”
“Good.” Vulkan read to the end of the message and smiled to himself. “She included a picture of herself in her formal uniform. Want to see?”
“Why not,” Russ said. “Put it up on the screen.” Vulkan tapped a few runes and the image appeared on a flatscreen on the wall behind him.
She was standing in the hall outside her room, crown tucked under one arm, and her free hand resting on the hilt of the Conflagrator. Russ looked at the picture. “She looks good. It suits her.”
“It certainly does,” Vulkan said with quiet pride. Her lips were quirked up in a smile, clearly she had been talking to whomever was behind the camera. He tabbed to the next picture, also of her, this time from the square where she had given the speech. She was in her crown and speaking, clearly caught up in the moment. “And she says she can’t speak in public.”
“She’s just modest.” Russ waved his hand.
“Yeah. She included a transcript of the speech in here…and messages for Farah and Hana. And it looks like Jake bundled a message for his parents…and an encrypted file from Lord Regent No’dan for me. Just routine.”
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I'll get back to this tomorrow, I like the writan.
>pic related when this thread
“Well, it was nice to hear from her,” Russ said, rising to his feet. Dorn stayed put.
“Anything from Remilia?”
“Not in here. Maybe you should check your messages when you get home,” Vulkan said, standing as well.
“I shall.” Dorn heaved himself up. “Well. I’ll deliver the files and head for home. Thank you for your hospitality and the update, Brother.”
“Certainly. See you at the Palace,” Vulkan said, opening his own transcriptor to compose his reply.

George Seager set his tablet down with a proud smile. “I’m glad he’s having fun.”
“Yeah. I wish I could visit Nocturne,” Sandra said, rereading the message. “Did you see these pictures of Venus he attached?”
“Yes I did,” George said. He glanced over the pictures of Venus in her uniform and giving the speech. “Jacob’s got a good eye,” he quipped.
“Any idea when we’ll hear from him again?” Sandra asked.
George shrugged. “Hard to say, really. Warp communication is unpredictable. Probably in another few weeks.”
Sandra looked at his message on the screen. “Can we send a reply? I’ve never had to use Astropathy before.”
“We can, but it would be very expensive. Unless we want to bundle a message with Lord Vulkan’s reply.” George hesitated. “We could ask him.”
Vulkan finished his reply and transcripted it. After attaching a few last words on his various niece’s activities, he encrypted the message and prepared to send it. His vox buzzed just as he was about to send the message. The caller ID said that it was Jake’s home line. Raising an eyebrow in curiosity, he tapped the speakerphone button. “Hello?”
“Hello, Lord Vulkan, this is George Seager. Thanks for forwarding that message from Jake,” a somewhat nervous voice on the other side said.
“Ah, yes, glad you got it. Did you want to reply? I was about to bundle a message of my own,” Vulkan said.
“I would be very appreciative, sir, yes. Should I just send it over?”
“Please do. How is he doing?” Vulkan asked.
“He’s happy as a clam, from what he’s said. Venus looks amazing in those pictures,” George said. Vulkan’s slate beeped as George’s message appeared. “May I ask what exactly she is to Nocturne? I’m not completely clear. She never made mention of it around us.”
“She is the Crown Princess.” The line went silent as George digested that.
“I see. So…what exactly does that make Jake?” George hesitantly asked.
“Nothing. She chooses whether to bestow a title upon him. Which she won’t until after college.” Vulkan smiled. “Why?”
“Because, sir, off the top of my head, I can’t recall Venus even tangentially discussing the subject when she was here,” George said.
“Mmm.” The message finished its load and compressed. “All right, I have your message, Sieur Seager. Talk to you when the next message arrives.”
“Thank you very much, sir. I’ll speak to you then. Goodbye.”
Several days of tourism passed, as Venus and company explored Nocturne. Venus traveled alone to Ignea, to meet several of the nomad tribes that lived there. They were more reluctant to acknowledge their Princess, but Venus came away from it satisfied. She had made a point of meeting all of her people. That was what she wanted.
As they slowly acclimated to the heat and gravity, the rest of the party found their time better and better spent. The cities of Nocturne may not have had the incredible artistry of Macragge or the magnificent architecture of a Forge world, but their mixture of rustic durability, skilled crafting, and pragmatic design were beautiful in their own way.
Venus had been hoping to show her companions the individuality of the cities. In this, she succeeded; the magnificent architecture of Aethonion, settled against the edge of an ash waste the size of one third of the continent, was as distinct as the magnificent, half-mile-tall walls of the Jewel City of Epithemus, set as it was in the middle of an ocean of acid.
When the group toured the Merchant Sprawl of Clymene, they nearly had to drag Venus and Freya away from the colossal markets that surrounded the system’s largest spaceport. Restrained only be the knowledge that they would have to load their cargo for the trip home, both girls came away with armfuls of Nocturnean artwork and gadgets, and even Jake found himself sorely tempted by the selection of wares in the city’s exotic art and book stores.
In the entire duration of the trip, Alex didn’t hear from his father’s ship at all. As they were aboard the Thunderhawk that was taking them to Skarokk for the final leg of the stay, he finally relented and called his father himself. Raising his voice over the din of the engines, he reluctantly dialed the Corundum Star.
“This is the Corundum Star.” A voice on the other end finally picked up. “Who hails?”
“This is Lord Alexander Carlin, calling Trade Lord Joseph Kimball-Carlin,” Alex said.
“Alex! Hey, kiddo, your father just left,” the voice on the other end said. “Sorry about that.”
“Left? What?” Alex stared into space as the rest of the group pretended they weren’t listening in. “Where is he?”
“He’s on his way to speak with some merchant or other in Clymene, as long as he’s here,” the vox officer said.
“Oh. Great. What’s wrong with the Star?” Alex asked.
“Void shield projector shorted out in a horrible accident involving some escaped cargo,” the vox officer sighed.
“Uh huh…he’s not going to come find me, is he?” Alex asked apprehensively.
“You couldn’t be mad at that, could you, Alex?” the vox officer asked in surprise.
“Oh yes I could,” Alex grumbled. “This is MY vacation.”
“Oh…I have no idea,” the vox officer confessed.
Man, /tg/'s a graveyard tonight.

It occurs to me that Ahriman, Darkmage, and I are the only ones who ever even write for Warhammer High any more. Anyone else have anything they want to share?
people still read this, keep on going on
I've been tempted but I wouldn't want to step on continuity toes.
Step on community toes?

Fuck that, write whatever you want! Stop by the 4chan writing channel #writescribbles and ask around if you REALLY want, but nobody cares if you just write your own thing too.
“Great. Fantastic. I’ll see you around, Max. Bye.” Alex turned the vox off and nearly slammed it down on the deck of the Thunderhawk. “Damn him!”
Venus reached across her seat and squeezed his shoulder. “Say the word.”
“No. There’s a chance he isn’t here to bother me. I’ll let it slide until he does something stupid.” Alex sank back into his chair and looked over at where Venus was tapping away at a slate. “So…anyone going to write home before we leave Nocturne?”
“I am!” Freya excitedly proclaimed.
“Me,” Jake said.
“I think I will too.” Venus contemplatively tapped her slate. “Dad said not to worry about the Underground and the violent immigrants. I guess I won’t.”
“Good. So…tell me about Skarokk,” Jake said.
“Well, it’s called the Dragonspine because of its location. It’s built into a massive mountain range, which is essentially one colossal block of volcanic rock over a hundred seventy kilometers wide and two klicks high,” Venus explained. “The air pressure and temperature will be lower here. Much lower.” The mountains back up to a sea on one side and a huge volcanic delta on the other, where meltwater from the polar glaciers and Time of Trial snowfields pour through pumice fields and into the ocean. There’s a tunnel under the mountains, I should show you.”
“You had me at ‘less air and heat,” Jake emphatically said. Venus grinned and settled in to wait.
The Thunderhawk shook a bit as it descended through the clouds to the city below. Arranged through and in the massive spires of rock from which its name was drawn, the city was home to massive plateaus that had been hacked from the craggy mountains, and leveled with Mechanicus technologies to serve as foundations for the city’s buildings. Landing pads and void shield generators dotted the massive sprawl of buildings, which covered the entire center region of the massive mountain range.
Venus stood and grabbed a few of her possessions as the Thunderhawk Transporter settled down on the plateau nearest to the Dragonspine Castle. Aptly named, it had been built by boring directly into a steep vertical mountain; the structure plunged deep into the mountain and high into the sky above them. It was bristling with defensive turrets, reinforced windows, and landing pads that jutted out from its side.
The ramp hissed open. A small honor guard of serfs and a single Salamander from the sixth Great Company stood at the bottom of the ramp. Sixth, Venus had explained, had long held a connection with the city. The group disembarked and waited as Venus and the Salamander underwent their, by now accustomed, ritual. When it concluded, he led them into the castle proper, while the servitors behind them directed the cargo servitors to move their luggage.
The rooms they received were more sparse than they had been in the other cities, but this was the most isolated community on the planet, and had few visitors. Venus and Jake settled into the Imperial Suite, while Remilia and Freya and Alex found their own rooms on the floor. Meeting up after offloading, the group headed into the city to get lunch.
Jake slid his sunglasses on and breathed deep in the mountain air. “Mmm…it’s cooler here than anywhere else on the planet.” He looked up and saw the heat waves emanating from the rooftops of every structure around him. “I mean, relatively speaking.”
“Heh. I know. It’s almost tolerable,” Alex said. He shook his thermoreflective clothing free of water droplets and sealed his water container shut. “So…who’s up for what?”
“Something simple and quick, so we can go see the mountains,” Remilia said.
“I’m up for that,” Freya chipped in.
“Okay…should be a small café down the street, then,” Venus declared. She led the group down the roadway, raking care to avoid the deep drainage slots. The mountainous slabs of rock upon which the city was built were so hard that the creation of a modern sewage system and power grid had been something of a technological miracle by the Mechanicus, and its maintenance was difficult. Outside the Castle, the sewers were only a few feet below the surface, and the drains were deep and imposing. Fortunately, the drain pipes weren’t physically connected to the sewer lines anywhere pedestrians could smell them.
In the more pedestrian parts of the city, the roads were a bit broader, though not by much. Towering metal lights illuminated the streets in the lower tiers of the city, fading to darkness near the higher ones, presumably where the richer people lived. The roads cut laterally into the steep mountains, sometimes straight through them in the higher areas, and where cargo moved.
Venus paused outside the café to don her own mirrored sunglasses. They rarely worked, but with her hair back in a sheet instead of a braid, she looked little enough like her regal appearance in the speech that she occasionally went unrecognized.
Jake held the door for her and the others. As he looked back at them, he pointed across the street. “If we want something to do tonight, let’s hit that bar.”
Venus shrugged. “Want to go after dinner?” she asked.
Jake laughed again, shutting the door behind them. “Why not?”
“All right.” Venus walked up to the counter and started placing their orders as Freya grabbed a table. As she returned with the food, Venus opened a map of the city and glanced it over. “Huh.”
“What?” Jake looked up from his soup. Venus was staring at the map intently, looking vaguely puzzled.
“The city basically doesn’t have a tramway outside of the industrial and residential areas. How surprising,” she murmured.
“Well…trains on a mountain,” Jake shrugged.
“Yeah.” She looked up at him and quirked an eyebrow. “So…mountains. You got used to that pretty fast.”
“Hah! Well, this one more than most. So many people live in it and on it…it’s like a hive, really,” Jake said.
Oh God yes. Almost missed this one because it didn't have the usual OP image
I like Muju's version, what can I say.

For future reference: these threads occur every Friday at 1300 Eastern.
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“True facts,” Alex chuckled. “Home at last, huh?”
“No, home has a broken heater and a parking lot on the roof. This has nicer air though,” Jake said. He dipped some flatbread in the soup and munched. “So how about you, Remilia? What do you think of a planet with actual terrain?”
“Incredible place. The way the technology of the Imperium and the harshness of the world blend is very interesting,” she said between bites of her sandwich.
“It is.” Jake finished his soup quickly and stood. “I think I want to go see what the terrace looks like.”
“Okay, we’ll meet up for dinner,” Venus said, pausing her own meal to peck him on the cheek as he passed. Alex and Remilia grabbed their own bags and stood, heading in the opposite direction. Freya dn Venus lingered over their food, still looking at the map.
Outside, Jake adjusted his sunglasses and walked up the terrace. The brilliant afternoon sun glared down on him from above, and he shifted his collar, glad he had taken to applying sunscreen after burning to a crisp in Hesiod.
Arriving at one of the large switchbacks in the mountain road, he paused, slowly removing his sunglasses to take in the view. The Ash Deltas stretched out to infinity before him. A thousand tiny rivers of glacial meltwater flowed towards the mountains, around them, under them, even through them where the Mechanicus had built culverts. The glistening water poured over hard-packed volcanic ash in rivulets that looked no wider than a hair, but in reality were the size of cars. Larger lines of red and silver denoted thick streams and rivers, each the size of the road he was standing on or much larger.
Glurr, meant to say every other Friday.
“Absolutely magnificent,” he said under his breath.
“Ain’t it?” someone said. He glanced back to see a Nocturnean walking along the sidewalk behind him. “You never get tired of the view.”
“What does it look like in the Time of Trial?” Jake asked.
“Actually the same, only the water’s shallower. It’s after that looks different. The whole plane turns bright white from the volcanic snow.” The local stood beside him at the low stone balustrades. “The whalers and prospectors come in and line the streets, looking for food, while the plains outside get a new layer of ash on them.”
“Cool. Where does the water that reaches the base of the mountain go?” Jake asked, peering down to the next terrace.
“Eh, it just kinda pools at the base of the mountain and sluices through the tunnels. How do you not know this?” the man asked incredulously.
“I’m not from around here,” Jake said.
“Oh.” The man looked at him askance. “Well…enjoy your stay,” he muttered, walking away.
Jake rolled his eyes and put the glasses back on. The simmering hostility he’d sensed throughout his entire visit was even more pronounced here. He wondered how many Terrans there even were in the city.
Venus sat back on a chair on the highest point of the city and stared out at the view. The beautiful lines the water carved through the ash fanned out over the plains a giant fossilized fern. From their source at the north pole, the ribbons of water stretched down towards the sea, and flowed under the mountain in their path towards the seas.
The plainclothes serf next to her spoke inaudibly into a small microphone at his collar and walked away. Venus languidly stretched and sipped at her water bottle. “Hell of a view,” she said contentedly.
The plainclothesman knelt at her side and put his hand to his ear. “City Governor Sralah wishes to reiterate his invitation to a formal dinner tonight for your Highness and your companions,” he said softly.
“Nope. We’ve got plans for tonight. Tomorrow, or any other day, sure, but not tonight,” Venus said, lacing her fingers behind her head.
The plainclothesman put his hand to his earbud again. “Tomorrow, then, your Highness?” he asked.
“He extends his gratitude and looks forward to meeting you,” the man said, bowing formally and withdrawing to the edge of the rooftop.
Venus sighed. “Oh well. At least I get to put my armor on again,” she said wryly.
Freya, lounging in the seat next to her, laughed. “Hahah! You really love that thing.”
“I do indeed,” Venus confessed with a guilty grin. “It’s so badass.”
“The local news is practically fawning over you,” Freya giggled. “Have you seen the op-eds?”
“I make a steadfast point of avoiding op-eds,” Venus sighed. “In my own experience, the people who know least about a situation are the first to voice their opinions on it, nearly all the time.”
“How profound.” Freya grabbed a bottle of sunscreen from the bag at her side and began applying it, to the rapt and well-concealed attention of every single man and a few women on the rooftop patio. “So, what do you have planned for us?” she asked.
“Well, today we just relax and get settled. Tomorrow, the cragfalls, on the ocean side. Then dinner with the Governor and after that we improvise. See whatever we want.”
Freya massaged sunscreen into her shoulders. “Nifty. Think Alex’s dad will bug us?”
“You’ve met him, I haven’t. What do you think?” Venus asked.
Freya shrugged, carefully tossing her red braids over the back of her chair so they didn’t drag into the lotion. “Who knows? I think he’s just dumb enough to try.”
“Great.” Venus ruefully shook her head. “Oh well. He won’t follow us to Fenris at least,” she said. She turned sharply to look at Freya. “Will he?”
“Not if he wants to live,” Freya casually remarked. “I WILL have the Spirit of Fenris shoot his engines out if he tries.”
“The what now?” Venus asked.
“Fourth Great Company flagship, in drydock at the Fang for upgrades,” Freya said, rubbing lotion into her legs. “Forget about it. Trust me, he won’t try. He’s secretly afraid of me,” she confided in a whisper.
“And he’s not afraid of me?” Venus asked tartly.
“Like you said,” Freya shot back. “He hasn’t met you.” She smirked under her shades as she added a coy addendum. “I’m sure he’s just afraid of strong women.”
“Hmph.” Venus sipped her drink again and settled back down to enjoy the view.
Remilia and Alex meandered through the little market around the city’s main spaceport, picking through the wares on sale. Remilia eyed a pair of tiny earrings shaped like drake teeth. “Man, I bet Alpharia would love those,” she said under her breath. She glanced at the price tag. “Fair…” She grabbed the earrings and walked up to the counter, paying for them off of her card. With a quick glance at the receipt – she was still well within budget – she rejoined her friend outside.
“Nice,” Alex said, looked at the earrings. “For Alpharia?”
“Do you wish any of your other cousins were here?” Alex asked as they resumed their trawling of the market.
“I wish Miranda were here. She would be fascinated by the people here. Or Angela and Michael, they’re always fun to be around,” Remilia said.
“Those two are practically joined at the hip these days,” Alex said, looking over at a clothing rack beside him.
“Did Michael tell you his little plan?” Remilia asked.
“Plan?” Alex asked, curious.
“Heh. Never mind, he’d want to tell you himself,” Remilia said, smiling wistfully. “Let’s see…Hana would find all the artistic metalworking here, but she’d HATE the climate and the lack of open space. Farah would be ecstatic to be here. I know Venus invited her, but she had plans to take a trip to Ganymede and visit her mother’s clan.”
“Her mother lives on Ganymede?” Alex asked.
“No, she wants to go there on vacation then go home to Medusa to be with her mother for four months,” Remilia explained.
Are you ready for complex feels?
“Are her parents separated?”
“Not at all. Michelle just travels a lot, and she’s Medusan nobility. After she goes home for a while, Farah’s going to come back to Terra and start college. She’ll be a year behind us, but whatever. She’s already picked a school. I dunno which.”
“Ah.” Alex decided the clothes were out of his dwindling budget and moved on.
“Splurge, Alex, Fenris doesn’t have any retail on it,” Remilia pointed out.
“True…ah, to hell with it,” Alex said, grabbing the superb leather belt he had spotted and making off to the counter with it.
Moments later, prize in hand, he returned. He stuffed the belt in his bag and they moved on to another part of the market together.
Alex looked over at his companion. She was looking a bit downcast all of a sudden, as if talking about her cousins had been depressing.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“I will be. I just miss my family, you know? And…I guess…” she trailed off.
“I envy you,” she said softly.
“For what? The ship containing my father, which may come crashing down on our vacation at any moment?” Alex groused.
“I envy you Freya,” Remilia confessed. “My last relationship ended horribly. I think I just feel a little lonely. Knowing that Venus and Freya came here with you and Jake, and I…didn’t.”
She looked over to see Alex turn away, pained. She sighed, regret clutching her heart. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have burdened you. You’ve got nothing to feel bad for.”
“Neither do you,” Alex said, shifting his bag of goods.
They walked on in silence for a few minutes. When they reached the end of the row, Alex paused. “Look…Remilia, I’m not the swiftest bulb in the marquis sign. I don’t know how to make you feel better. I didn’t even know you had a break-up. But…I don’t want to make you feel bad when I’m…with Freya,” he said. He looked awkward, and his face was pinched. “We’re going to be together for another two months on this trip.”
“Alex…”Remilia sighed, burying her face in one hand and slowly dragging it back over her hair. “Please. You make Freya happy, and that matters more to me than assuaging my own desires. Jake makes Venus happy, too, and I’m glad for you both. All right? I just…I needed to say it. I can’t get caught up in self-pity, though.”
Alex grimaced. He thought quickly, trying to remember what Freya and Jake had said before. “I wish I could help, but…” He stared at Remilia, who crossed her arms over her stomach and looked down, clearly beating herself up for turning things maudlin.
“Damn it,” she muttered.
Alex sighed and quickly squeezed her shoulders, trying to make her feel better. She closed her eyes and rested her forehead on his broad shoulders, trying to relax. “Sorry,” she said. “You didn’t deserve to feel guilty.” She slid her arms under his and gently squeezed him back. “If I wasn’t here, I’d be walking on eggshells back home, trying to get shit straight with Dad. Believe me, I’m better off here.”
“All right,” he sighed, putting it aside. She stepped back, grinning sadly.
“What is it with my cousins’ guys having innate emotional counselor traits?”
Alex shrugged. “Maybe Venus and Freya just like sounding boards,” he said.
Remilia chuckled to herself. “Heh. It makes things easier.” Both teens started the walk back to their accommodations in the hotel.
“So, uh…Remilia…has your hearing adjusted to Nocturne yet?” Alex asked cautiously.
“Sure has. It’s as sharp as ever.” She smiled over at him. “I can hear your heartbeat right now.”
“Cool…so…er…how do I ask this…” Alex stuttered.
Remilia sighed. “I wear earplugs when I go to bed for just that purpose.”
“Oh, thank goodness. I wouldn’t be able to enjoy myself again if I knew I was tormenting you,” Alex admitted.
Remilia chuckled again. “You’re a sweetheart, but don’t worry about it. I imagine with Freya you can’t focus on much else.”
“Heh. Just between you, me, and the sun,” Alex said, leaning in to Remilia, “Freya’s a complete sub when she’s not in crazymode.”
“No way. ‘Terrify a room full of grown men into submission with a snarl and glint of a fang’ Freya? ‘Launch Furia across the room with one elbow strike’ Freya?” Remilia asked incredulously.
“She’s a Wolf in public and a kitten the rest of the time,” Alex confided.
Remilia flushed and giggled. “Shhh, she might hear you.”
Alex glanced nervously over his shoulder. “Eh…I think we’re good. But hey, Remilia…you know, I’m no Jake, but if you really want to talk to someone…” he said.
She paused to give him a quick hug across the shoulders. “Don’t worry. I know where you are.” She smiled over at him and felt the guilt gripping her heart fade. “Thanks, Alex.”
All right, I'm turning in.

Before I do, let me make something clear.

I have absolutely no incentive to continue this. None. I have received zero feedback in this thread, beyond people saying "oh hey, this exists, i might read it some other time."

People, if I get no feedback or even acknowledgement in the thread, why would I put it in the archive or wiki for users to read some other time? Believe me, I have other demands on my time.

Sorry, but it's INCREDIBLY disheartening to have absolutely no criticism, especially when /tg/ is bereft of OC as much as it is right now.
Doesn't need to be much guys. An occasional bump shows that you care. :D
I'm going to post the next part to my story. On a related note, if you need to catch up I've finally made the page for this story, http://1d4chan.org/wiki/The_Lioness_%28Warhammer_High%29.


A long sleek gravlimo rolled into the gates of the El’Jonson residence some hours later. The vehicle slowed down and came to a stop a moment later in front of the main entrance, its engines cooling off in the morning wind upon the spire.
A second passed before the driver’s door opened and out stepped the driver, an middle aged man wearing a black suit and a chauffeur hat. He ran around the large vehicle, making his way to the back passenger door. Pausing once to brush himself off and straighten his tie, he opened the door ceremoniously, bowing at the same time to the occupant.
Out stepped Victoria, smiling to herself as she surveyed the empty lot around her. No one else seemed to be visiting her aunt and cousin this morning.
“Perfect” she purred to herself, only now noticing her driver still bowing by her side. “Thank you Geoffrey, you may wait in the car.” The driver nodded once and closed the door behind her as she walked to the entrance. She suddenly stopped and looked back at the car, sighing. “You nearly had it Geoffrey.”
The driver looked shocked and followed her gaze to his shoe, where there was a spec of dirt on it. He mentally cursed himself for missing such a simple distraction. “My apologies madam. I’ll do better next time.”
She nodded as she continued to the door while Geoffrey leaned down and took out a handkerchief to brush the dirt off his shoes. She walked up to the entrance as the main door swung upon, the servitor butler appearing at the entrance. Like most automated butlers, this one was programmed with external sensors attached to the door, including face recognition software.
“Welcome Lady Victoria. Lady Lyra had not informed me of your visit.”
“That is because I didn’t tell her I was coming. Where is she?”
“Eating in the kitchen, madam. If you could wait I will go fetch her and-”
Victoria didn’t let the servitor finished as she brushed past him, knowing full well her way around the house. Her heels echoed against the hardwood floor as she made her way into the mansion, past the winding staircase and towards the backside. The servitor followed a good distance behind her, trying to find proper procedure in dealing with such behavior from family.
Victoria made her way into the kitchen, where Lyra sat at a table seemingly enjoying some toast before noting her new guest. “Hi Lyra” she said, waving as she approached her.
“Victoria. What a pleasant surprise.” Lyra seemed a bit shocked by her cousin’s appearance and was already trying to find out why she could possibly be here, but didn’t have to think that hard to figure it out. The servitor came to a pause behind her cousin, still unsure of what he should do. She nodded at him, gaining his attention. “You can leave us.” The servant nodded, happy that the responsibility of the new guest was off his shoulders as he turned around and left them.
Victoria pulled a chair and sat down at the opposite side of the table taking note of her breakfast. “Haven’t I told you yet that carbs can make you fat?”
“You tell me quite a bit Victoria. Maybe you can start by why you are here?”
She shrugged, leaning back into her chair. Victoria wasn’t going to hide anything from Lyra, it was usually impossible to try. The girl had a knack of figuring out people’s intentions with little information. That sort of intuition is why most of the family knew she would be the clear candidate for a politician or diplomat. “I just heard from a yellow bird that you have a date, that’s all.”
Lyra sighed, already having figured out as much as soon as she saw her. “Remilia’s worried over nothing. Felix wants to help me find something I’ve misplaced, alright? It is only a bonus that he is a charming.”
Victoria smirked at that. She knew Felix’s exploits as a council member and felt it would be a right fit for Lyra. Although he was quite good looking, it was a shame he wasn’t Victoria’s type or she would have pursued him herself. Too political for her tastes.
“I just came by to congratulate you for your success. Remilia is just being herself, trying to protect her family from getting hurt. Still, she would like it if I came back to her with an answer on my opinion with the whole thing, so you don’t mind if I did do some investigating on Felix, do you?”
“I do. I don’t want you or Remilia risking my date so you can find out Felix’s private life, understood?”
“I’ll be discreet” Victoria said, a smile on her face. Lyra knew she was going to do the investigation no matter what she said. Hopefully it would go unnoticed by Felix.
“Is there anything else?” she said, aggravated by her cousin’s plans. Victoria shook her head, getting up.
“Don’t worry Lyra. Just a little look, I swear. I doubt I’ll find anything on your crush.” Lyra’s brow furrowed, a bit annoyed it was happening at all but knew she could do nothing to stop her. “I’ll make my way out now. Have fun!”
“Goodbye Victoria” was all she heard as she left. Victoria had a tendency of pestering her cousins with her plans. They usually didn’t like when she did, but that never stopped her. Truth was, like Remilia, she found the entire thing to be strange to begin with. She only needed to judge how deep Lyra had fallen before she continued. As she made her way back to the limo, she took out her vox and went through a list of contacts. “Geoffrey, back home please. I have work to do.”


Just throwing it out there, Victoria is a tough character to write. Most of the other stories have her as an evil character, so trying to keep to a core and move past that is proving to be difficult.

I am done for the night. Hope this thread is alive by tomorrow.
Ok, My time. I have a treat for all you, an epic war on Seadelant. Tea first, then the carnage.
And Please, let us know what you think. We write all this shite for you, the least you can do is acknoledge our blodd, toil, tears and sweat.
Wadda ya mean you won't continue this!?!
Seriously, your writing has had me hooked from the word get go. It's like a soap opera set in 40K, only so much better. I just can't get enough of it!

I'm not really used to commenting stuff, though. I kinda feel like anything i have to add sounds... i dunno... shallow somehow. Like you've already heard it a thousand times before. But i guess I'll drop some anyway just to show i care.

The story so far has been through-and-through awesome with more highlights than i have room to mention.
I will however mention some points that stood out for me:

- Remilia and Dorn
The whole story-arc about Remilia and Dorn was (and is still, when you drop hints about it) superbly written and feels REAL. Like it could have been penned in some diary just days ago.

- Morticia and grandad Emps talky times
This part had me almost crying, and I'm guy that doesn't cry easily. It was just so raw and open with Emps spilling his gut and guilt over his part in the daughters creation and current situations.
Bumping for this guy. Let's see what you got.
Back, and dumping. I have a lot to post, so this will take several hours. On with the story

The plains outside the city were on fire. Not a physical fire, but a fire of Aetheric energy, and to Ahriman standing on the walls it felt like he was standing in the doorway of a furnace, feeling its raw elemental heat blasting against his body. Outside the walls, beyond the reach of the Imperial Artillery, even beyond the range of the Caorst Bombards, the heaviest siege guns on the Planet, the Ork host was assembling. All night he’d felt the mass of Greenskins grouping together, their leaders mustering them. As they came together, the fire grew, fed and fanned by the proximity of so many Greenskins to one another, until it became an uncontrollable firestorm, whipping the Orks into a furious frenzy. They knew where their enemy was, their enemy couldn’t escape, and they would stomp them flat. The sound of machinery had kept half the city awake as the Orks assembled Siege machines for breaking the outer walls down and the acridic stink of the exhaust fumes from their engines could be clearly smelt from the walls. The reality of what was happening to then was now fully sinking in, and he’d heard reports of small scale riots from the inner city, and even a suicide or two, which didn’t make Ahriman’s mood any better.
2. Ahriman was among the Seadelant PDF on the western wall sector, raising morale by his mere presence. He had detached himself from the psychic matrix which had allowed them to destroy so much of the initial landings, but some twenty million Orks and many thousands of tanks and war engines were now planetside, and those defences would no longer be of any use in stopping them. No, he would set an inspiration and lead them from the walls, examine the strings of fate and reshape them at the source, alter the battle as it raged around him.
Though he’d requested his name not be broadcast or mentioned, news had spread by word of mouth. A Space Marine leading them was something which could not be hushed up, and they had heard so many stories of the Great Crusade, and how they had been liberated from the Xenos which had enslaved Seadelant during Old Night. Wherever he went, he was greeted with cheers, and a forest of salutes. As he strode along the walls, the troops stood in solid ranks, each trying to outdo his or her peers and look good before the Marine.
“Sir?” Ahriman turned to face the man who addressed him. It was a trooper of the Planetary Defence Force. “Speak, trooper,” Ahriman replied.
“Sir. If we survive this, my lord, what will become of us?”
‘What will become of us?’ Ahriman considered the man’s question for a second. He could see the fear clouding him, clouding all of them despite seeing him before them, and knew that he had to banish that cloud, give the man some hope. “That I do not know. Time is fluid, and no future is set in stone. There is no inevitability that the Orks will win here, and by your very being here you change the future course of this battle. Do you hear that?” he amplified his voice so the other troopers could also hear him. “Even the smallest pebble can change the course of a rushing river, and by the same measure any one of you can change the entire course of this war. Never doubt your importance to the final victory here, one man or woman, one bullet or lasbeam can make all the difference. With men and women like yourselves at my side, how can we ever lose?” the man smiled, the fear dissipating from his aura and some of his fellow cheered. That feeling carried with Ahriman as he left the walls and headed for the old city and the command centre. He was not one for inspirational speeches, he didn’t have the talent for it like the Word Bearers, Sons of Horus or Imperial Fists did. He would stand with them, and by his actions be an inspiration.
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He would have ample warning when the Orks decided to make their move, he would feel it aetherically long before any reports reached him, and he needed to check with Graf Trakeria and Governor Shroe about the evacuation plans and any replies to the distress signals sent, if they had burned through the Aetheric ECM the Ork Hulk was broadcasting. Quite how the Greenskins were able to perform such a feat he had no idea, even after many years of research how their collective Psychic field actually worked was something which still stumped the Imperium’s top Psychomancers. Lord Magnus could work it out, if he wasn’t always busy elsewhere.
The city was a ghost town, the streets deserted. A few days earlier, this city was full of life, and its Warp Signature was bright and vibrant, glorious to behold. Not anymore. The ghostly echoes of how it used to be still lingered, a faint hint of life in an otherwise dead city.
The Command Centre within the inner city was an inversion of the rest of the city, bustling with hectic activity. Several Hydra Flak tanks in the Gunship Green colour of the Caorst Panxers were parked outside to provide air cover, while runners dashed out the doors every few minutes, sending classified messages from place to place, to command bunkers within the outer city and the Spaceport. Ahriman knew every order even before it was sent, he had drafted most of them himself and every one was telepathically sent to him for approval.
Every head turned when he entered the room, a giant in crimson armour. Removing his helmet, he addressed Graf Trakeria. “Morale is satisfactory down on the walls. A fair amount of apprehension, but that will evaporate when the fighting begins. Is everything in order back here?”
“Yes Lord Ahriman. You know my lord; I may have had my doubts at first, but the show you put on for us when the Greenskin scum were landing has convinced me. We destroyed nearly a third of the initial landings, and suffered comparatively few losses ourselves. With you leading us, I am almost supremely confident we will be able to hold out until relief arrives!”
“Never be confident of anything. The tides of the Great Ocean can shift and change at any moment, and we must be ready for that. Speaking of that, has there been any word on the relief? The Astropaths sent distress calls for nearly half a day before the Orks shut them down.”
“We caught a snippet of something shortly before the curtain came down. Very fragmentary, mentioned ‘delay’, ‘available troops’ and ‘Salamanders’, which did not install much confidence in us save mention of the XVII Legion. We hoped you would shed light on it my Lord.”
Ahriman took those words into his mind, reached into the Great Ocean and began to unravel them. Though much was lost, he pieced together a very rough picture, and it wasn’t a pretty one.
“It seems there are not many active troops available near us, and they’re scrambling to assemble a relief force. That means we may have to hold out for longer than I anticipated.”
He heard a few curses around the room, and almost all of the auras flamed red with frustration.
“Don’t worry, my plan is sound and with it we should be able to hold out for several months to a year, ample time for relief to arrive. Any delay is inconvenient, but this is war and we have to make do.”
The flares subsided, but there was still an air of discontent in the building. Nothing Ahriman could do about that though, he could change many things but not these circumstances. He spent the next few minutes checking the reports on the food stockpile, the power grid, the integrity of the Voids, and other minute but important details so often overlooked by supreme commanders. He began to feel more at peace with the world, until as he was discussing De-Salinisation of sea water in the event of a long siege, a report rang out across the room.
“Movement! The Orks are on the move!”
Ahriman cursed. He hadn’t felt the Orks leave their encampments. He extended his mind out beyond the walls, and was hit by another revelation. They were only a few kilometres out, half the distance he had expected to detect them at. The inferno of the Ork Psy Field suddenly hit him full force, sending his body of light straight back to his flesh. Everyone noticed him shudder, and at the same time the scanner operators detected the oncoming horde, and their reaction mirrored his own.
“Shit! How did they get so close without us noticing it?”
“Where is the damn artillery?”
“Attention, attention, we have incoming all across the line, respond over!”
“Enemy artillery hitting the Voids!”
There was no need to use his precognition abilities to tell what the Orks were doing. They would only move in one direction, straight towards the walls. In behaviour, Greenskins were nothing if not predictable.
“My Ladies, Gentlemen, I leave overall command in your capable hands. Follow my plan, and all should go well. The troops on the wall need inspiration, and I just about qualify.”
He paused long enough to jam his helmet back on his head, and then he was gone.
“Here they come!”
The call was echoed across the walls, as the storm broke before them. Troopers rushed into positions, screaming commands or encouragement at each other. The ‘click’ and ‘chink’ sound of weapons being readied and the rattle of ammunition being loaded rose in intensity.
Julius sat in the rear of the C-80, knowing that any time soon they would be sent on their first supply run. This really was it; he was in the middle of a war. Andrew would be so jealous. Let him be, when he gets his first taste of real war we’ll see how jealous he feels when there’s things out to kill him, he’s scared stiff as a board and feels like he’s about to vomit.
As the chaos raged around him, he tried to detach his mind from the troubles at hand and focus on something which had been bugging him immensely. His surprise interview with the SBC had left him feeling cold, after he had seen it broadcast the next day. Had he been a tad too harsh? He didn’t quite realize what he had been saying until it was too late, all that rage and frustration spilling out like a breached dam. He would have a lot of explaining to do if he got out of this alive, to Lord Mortarion first. He could explain it was meant to raise morale at the local level, and was in no way indicative of his true feelings, even when deep down it may have been a bit too close to those for comfort. What had happened to Morticia affected them all, himself included, and though most of the others were now over it he wasn’t, all thanks to the Petitioner’s City. Because of his stupid idea, he’d damn near got Isis killed, and he couldn’t get over that. He’d hoped leaving Terra and going to Calth would sort things out, but instead he had got caught up in this.
He wondered if they knew where he was, what was happening to him. Venus at least knew where he was, and her group might have an inkling what was happening to him, but would Isis and her cousins back on Terra know what was happening to him? He had grown up with them; they all considered him family, even cold Petra and spoilt Victoria had a soft spot for Pius. He had been the lone boy among them, until Imperator High when they discovered the wonders of boyfriends, and more and more often he’d found himself acting as chaperone to the other ‘royal consorts’, teaching them about etiquette and so on. He tried to stay on good terms with the consorts, but other than Jake, James and Andrew, he didn’t count any of them as close friends.
There was a deep rolling chain of booms behind him, and then a whistling sound overhead as the Basilisks opened up, spitting death at the oncoming horde. The shrieking roar of Storm Eagle rockets from the Manticores and the throaty whine of massive Bombard shells added to the din. Other Munitions groups would be supplying them with shells; he didn’t have to worry about that. Keeping the troops on the wall, as well as the wall mounted Hydras and Battlecannons supplied, that would be his problem.
The others came up to him. “Soon be in the shite offworlder, ready for it?” Flynn asked. Julius nodded half-heartedly. His stomach felt queasy, his breakfast disagreed with him.
“Scared, offworlder?”
“Of course. Giant green fungus monsters are about to attack this city. Aren’t you scared?”
“Hell no! What’s there to fear?”
“I’m scared.” Dyllion murmured abruptly. All the others looked at him in shock. Dyllion seemed the most fearless of all of them, to have him admit that he was scared, then again all of them must be scared, Julius thought. He remembered something his father once told when, when recounting a story about Ullanor. Taking his father’s words as his own, he said.
“I doubt there’s anyone here who’s not scared, even you Flynn must be scared somewhere within, even if you don't want to admit it. I know I am, scared out of my wits. It’s a natural reaction, we’re all only human. Now come on, we have a job to do, and every little thing counts.”
Ahriman raced through the old city at transhuman speed, past batteries of Basilisks throwing shells downrange and Manticores sending missiles shrieking over the walls, past the single battery of Bombards parked in Liberators Square, past the Caorst Panxers lone Baneblade platoon, firing their massive cannons indirectly, past squadrons of Leman Russ and Malcadors waiting for orders and Chimeras with Caorst troopers lounging around them, until he finally reached the walls. The main gate and the surrounding wall area was guarded by troops from the Tanith Fifth ‘Larisels’, who despite being light infantry with few heavy weapons, and a junior regiment to the Belladon, Perdix and Caorst regiments, had been chosen for that position because they could be counted on to hold at all costs, and if by some disaster the falls fell they were well proven cityfighters.
Ahriman strode up the wall stairs four at a time, thoughts racing through his mind. He hadn’t felt the Ork horde move, somehow it had closed with the walls without him realising it. After his success during the initial landings he had dared hope he was free of the fog which had blinded him to the manipulations of the Primordial Annihilator, but it seems he was back at square one all over again. Was this to be his curse, no longer in complete control of his abilities? The most powerful Astartes psyker in the Galaxy, humbled?
Unlike the heavily fortified walls of cities bordering places such as the Eye of Terror, the Maelestrom or the various static Ork Empires, where the walls mounted massive artillery pieces for destroying Titans and the like, the heaviest guns on Seadelant’s walls were Battle Cannons, which while deadly were not heavy enough to face heavy war engines like Gargants. Fortunately he couldn’t detect any Gargants among the Ork forces, or anything heavier than a few scattered Battlefortresses and Stompas near the back of the horde.
Black clad Tanith troopers were clustered tightly against the walls, checking and re-checking lasguns, watching the enemy approach through field glasses and quietly chatting with colleagues. They seemed remarkably calm and composed, but Ahriman could see the fear clouding their auras.
“Who’s in command here?” Ahriman called out to the nearest trooper, ever so subtly manipulating his aura to make himself appear more imposing, a tried and tested tactic to ensure orders are obeyed.
“That would be me.” A figure detached itself from a nearby knot of troops and headed towards Ahriman. It was a Commissar, the political officers which sometimes were attached to untested regiments.
To his credit, the Commissar did not flinch from the eyeless gaze of Ahriman’s helm, throwing a snappy salute at the towering Astartes warrior.
“I am Günter Wilhelm Victor Eberhardt Von Eisenstein, Lord Commissar, Tanith Fifth. The troopers call me Günter; it’s a lot easier that way.”
“A pleasure to meet you.” Ahriman said, noting the way his men deferred to him. This was no ordinary Commissar, who ruled through fear and didn’t care for the lives of his men. The Tanith seemed to have a miraculous ability to get assigned only the most reasonable Commissars, as well as near supernatural luck in battle. Another reason why they were the rising stars of the Imperial Army.
“Commissar… Günter. My precognition tells me the Orks will concentrate their push here, that this is the vital sector on the line. The Greenskins will throw everything they’ve got at your troops, and I need to know if they can hold. Are your troops up to facing this?” Ahriman gestured at the tide coming in towards them.
“They may look scruffy and unkempt, but there are few finer troops in the entire Imperium. The Tanith first have won more Battle Honours in the Sabbat worlds than most regiments did during the entire Crusade. Their Commissar, to be correct their Colonel-Commissar looks set to be the next Ollanius Pius. My Lord, if anyone can hold off the Green Tide, it will be these men and women.”
>flatbread in the soup
Is it space tomato soup? Norway would approve if it was.
Ahriman turned to face out at the approaching Orks, reciting the enumerations as he did so he could distance himself from emotions and achieve perfect clarity. The Ork host was advancing, a solid wall of green stretching from one horizon to the next, an ocean of bodies advancing on the walls. Trukks, Battlewagons and Battle Fortresses rode above the horde like metal icebergs in the sea of green, partially concealed by the smog from engines and clouds of spore fog floating before them.
Among the host, towering over them were eight massive engines. Each was slightly higher than the curtain wall, and Ahriman recognised the basic design almost at once, an Orky rendition of an ancient siege weapon used on Terra, and later on places like Olympia, homeworld of the Iron Warriors. Belfries, or Siege Towers as they were more commonly termed, a way of scaling walls too high for ladders or grappling hooks. Some rolled along on wheels or track systems, thick black exhaust clouds billowing behind them. Others had thousands of chains attached, and were being pulled and pushed along by the Orks around them. Harsh bellows came from behind one, and Ahriman started when he saw it was being pushed by a pair of immature Squiggoths. Were there more of those foul tempered flesh mountains out there?
Flashes of fire erupted among the horde as the Basilisks, Manticores and Bombards of the Caorst Panxers shelled them. However the weight of fire seemed to be doing very little to slow down the foe, the Ork horde rolling on despite the weight of fire sent against them. Were the troops here in the open, they would stand no chance once the horde reached close combat. But here they had high walls to shelter behind, and as long as the Orks didn’t get a foothold on the walls, they would be safe. Those towers would give them that foothold, if they reached the walls.
“Have the wall Battle Cannons target those towers. Knock them down, and the horde will be stranded beneath our walls in the very teeth of our guns. The Artillery and Panxers can keep thinning the hordes ranks. Now!"
The Battle Cannon nearest to him zeroed in on the closest Siege Tower, and fired, swiftly followed by the others all along the walls.
The shells screamed towards the towers, but as the leading shell neared its victim, an arc of energy leapt off the tower, detonating the Battle cannon shell before it could strike the tower. More energy arcs leapt from the towers, detonating the shells in wave after wave.
“Those damn Towers have Power Fields!”
Detached from the chaos and emotion around him, Ahriman coolly remembered how power Fields worked. “Power fields don’t regenerate like Titan Voids. Keep firing, and sooner or later they will fail. Don’t let up, or we die.”
Shell after shell sped at the towers, and time and time again the Power Fields arced out to stop the shells before they could reach them. Every so often, a flare from one of the towers signified a Power field had failed.
Suddenly there was a bright flash from one of the towers as its final power field failed, and a few seconds later the top of it disintegrated under a volley of shells, scattering wreckage and bodies all around it. It continued to move forward for a few seconds, before grinding to a halt. Ragged cheers rose up from the troops on the walls. One down, seven to go. Slowly and inexorably the towers ground their way towards the walls, one metre at a time, shells still fired at them, power fields still absorbing shot after shot. A few minutes after the first, another tower’s fields blew and it was swiftly topped by a hail of shells.
There were still five towers and now they were too close to be engaged by the wall guns. Now the heavy weapons troopers began to fire their weapons. Missiles, called Tread Fethers by the Tanith blazed towards the towers, Lascannon beams stabbed straight through their armour, and Autocannons stitched lines of shells across their skin. Bodies of Orks fell out from the holes gouged by the weight of fire. Yet still they rolled on.
>"oh hey, this exists, i might read it some other time."
Im one of those and I will explain from my perspective.
I got my attention split between stuff in my life, both work and my spare time. Yesterday I had roleplaying going on so I focused on that, then it was the opening ceremony for the olympics I wanted to follow, world wide event as it is. I wrote "some other time" so you would know that your writing would be read (which I have now). It just takes time to go through all your material as you produce so much of it (which is a good thing).
My english comprehension and story construction knowledge is limited so I don't know what constructive feedback I can give, more than that I enjoy reading it. I hate reading long texts on a computer screen, it is really straining for me, but your writing makes the reading a joy. I'm sorry I can't give you more feedback than that and I don't know what I can do to encourage you to continue writing. It would be a shame if it stopped.
Duly noted, and thanks for the honesty.
Why do so few people review my work? I'm the second most prolific poster of WHH OC after SE, and nearly as good as him.
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>I'm the second most prolific poster of WHH
In my case, that is both your (you and SE) blessing and curse. It is much material, and for those who enjoy to read it is fantastic, but for newcomers I imagine it is daunting task to chew through.
Why I haven't commented your stuff is that I don't know where your chapters begin and if they follow a chronological order (I view a Trip into Hell as a chapter, but you have written more chapters and I don't know if they tie into each other. If they (or characters from the chapters) tie into each other, then I want to read it from the very start. And as I have a problem with reading large quantaties of text on a computer screen I have chosen to follow Someone Else's work. That plus I dont know your continuety is why I havent given you feedback.

What I would want, to ease into the others work, is a clearly structured first post something like this:

Someone Else:
[Link to first chapter]
[Link to second chapter]
[Link to third chapter]

Ahriman's Aide:
[Link to first chapter]
[Link to second chapter]

You get the idea. Then I, and the rest of the anons who might be on the fence and unsure of were to begin, know were to start and can go from there. I don't know if it is possible to do that with how the 1d4 page is structured, if it isn't, then I suggest this:

[Link to 1d4 page]

Someone Else
[1st chapter]
[2nd chapter]
[3rd chapter]

Ahriman's Aide
[1st chapter]
[2nd chapter]
[3rd chapter]

etc. Then users can just ctrl+f.

>mfw all the material to go through
Julius was sitting with Flynn, listening to him wax lyrical about the Vulcanor 16 Twin-Coupled Multi-Burn engine mounted in the Chimera, wondering how anyone could find that so interesting in a situation of literal life and death.
The Orks were now close enough to be engaged with Lasguns, and the constant bellows of “First rank, fire! Second rank, fire!” was accompanied by the ‘crack’ of Lasgun volleys, and the ‘whizz’ of Ork Big Shoota rounds flying overhead as the Orks returned fire. It was loud, hectic and chaotic. Julius had no idea what was going on in the wider battle, or whether the Orks were winning, or the Imperials.
Above the roar of weapons and scream of soldiers a voice came down from the wall, loud and clear above the din.
“All right civilians, time to earn your keep. We need six crates of M-K 214 Krak Missiles, eighteen Lascannon Powerpacks and four crates of Battlecannon APHE shells, on the double.”
“Right everybody, this is what we signed up for, lets to it.” Scvott yelled.
They all bundled into the C-80, and with a loud hum it took off and headed for the nearest Ammo Bunker. Flynn was a wild driver, roaring through the deserted streets of the outer city with reckless abandon. If it was a conventional ground car, Julius suspected they would have had an accident, and he felt sick for the entire trip, added to the sick feeling brought upon by the war raging around him. Flynn’s speed notably slackened when they reached the inner walls, and were waved through the inner gates by several PDF troopers. The Bunker was hectic, surrounded by C-80s being loaded with ammo and soldiers standing guard, and the silhouette of a Hydra providing cover. Every few seconds, a C-80 sped off for the walls with another load of bullets and shells.
The wide passageways of the bunker were full of CDA volunteers and some PDF and Army troopers carrying weapons and ammo back and forth.
“Six crates of M-K 214 Krak Missiles, eighteen Lascannon Powerpacks and four crates of Battlecannon APHE shells!” Scvott yelled at the Munitions officer. He typed into a Holopad, and half an agonising minute later several Servitors rolled up, each carrying a crate or box of Ammunition.
It took three trips to get it all into the C-80, Julius paired with Dyllion as usual. Dyllion was relentless, no sooner had he dropped of one crate then he’d headed back for another, and Julius found himself hard-pressed to keep up, let alone hold the heavy boxes off the ground. No sooner was the munitions in the Truck, then Flynn kick-started the engine and took off, Julius hanging on for dear life.
Julius and Dyllion sat in the back, trying to keep the ammunition steady as Flynn cut every corner and broke every speed limit getting the ammo to the walls. From what he could see, Flynn wasn’t the only one.
By the time they reached the walls the widening battle’s effects were being felt, there were several bodies lying upon the walls, and the sounds of battle were augmented by the screams of the wounded, a sound which thoroughly innerved Julius. With practiced efficiency, they swiftly unloaded the crates from the hovertruck and carried them over to the wall mounted ammo elevators. Once the platform was fully loaded, it took the crates up to the walls where the solders could distribute it themselves.
Addendum: if you write your chapters in chronological order, AA, then I will start reading it tomorrow. Today is the nordic nationals for starcraft 2 the whole day so Im gonna watch that.
One of the PDF Troopers on the walls suddenly fell back and landed with a ‘thump’ beside Julius. Julius stared at him for a second, long enough to notice the ruin where his face was, the empty cavity splashed with blood and brain matter, before he started to retch. He may have felt bad when Flynn was driving, but now he really was sick. If he hadn’t forgone eating that morning, he would have vomited his guts out. Even so, he was heaving and retching. The stories his father had told him never mentioned this, never mentioned retching your guts out over a man with his face blown off, never mentioned the screams of the wounded and moans of the dying. He felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Come on Oll, we all feel the same, but we have a job to do, a duty to perform.”
Duty. The constant in Julius’s life, and even now its grip upon him was still as tight as ever. As he retched, that face, the face of Isis Lupercal entered his mind, and with her in his thoughts, he steeled himself. She would stand, regardless of what was happening around her, and so would he. He staggered to his feet, paused to try and catch his breath, and with Scvott helping him, he returned to the C-80. He would make many more runs that day, but he’d survived his first taste of real war, and seen the horror.
Chronological Order coming right up.
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/19835955/ Thread 1.
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/19882126/ Thread 2.
My stuff is buried within, but it also lets you read Se's stuff from the beginning.
Now i must rest. I have nearly 5,000 more words ready, but I haven't slept in 34 Hours, not since Eye of /tg/ came online.
Bump us Anons, until SE returns.
One thing about fridays, and this friday in particular, people go out and parties on fridays and saturdays wo less anons in front of their computers. And this friday in particular was the opening ceremony for the olympics grabbing 4 billion peoples attention world wide. Just keep that in mind and dont think of it as disaproval of your work, just bad timing.
Outstanding work, all, I'm forever anticipating the next chapter. Do continue.
I return.

I forgot that the Olympics start today, I generally don't care about sports. Oh well.

No honest criticism is shallow.

The wiki page, http://1d4chan.org/wiki/ROAD_TRIP!_%28Warhammer_High%29 , is arranged in chronological order. I've put the whole story up there.

The group reconvened at suppertime, having selected a small restaurant a serf at the castle had recommended. The place was clearly a local fixture: there wasn’t a single foreign dish on the menu, and prices were quite reasonable. Naturally, Venus had been recognized on her way in the door, and spent a few terse minutes staring at people until they looked away. With that finished, the group dug in, recounting the afternoon’s activities, though Alex and Remilia kept their discussion to themselves.
Jake was animated, describing the breathtaking view of the plains, which Freya and Venus echoed. “I mean, the ocean had its beauty, sure, but this…I’ll remember that view forever,” Jake eagerly reported.
“I know. It’s magnificent. We should go out there in an ornithopter and check it out.” Venus swigged her water and glanced around the table. “So what were you two up to?” she asked.
“Being mallrats,” Remilia reported. “I got some cool earrings for Alpharia and a bracelet for Omegan.”
“I bought this awesome belt,” Alex said, tapping his waist.
“Cool. Freya and I just sort of vegetated up on the highest terrace,” Venus said. “It’s surprising how cool it is up there. It’s even cooler on the ocean side.”
“Yeah, I was boiling on the street,” Jake said, ruefully showing where he had burned even through the lotion.
Incidentally, the stories I've written, if you want them in chronological order, are as follows:







Durr, forgot Bleeding Out between Void Platform 13 and ROAD TRIP!

Good, I think it will help new readers ease into the stories if you have this list in the first post next thread.
As the group finished their dessert, they headed out for the bar they had spotted earlier. Venus carefully adjusted her glasses over her eyes and moved in the center of the group as they entered.
The place was dark, smoky, and loud. The five teens made their way up to the bar and ordered, though Jake as always abstained. As they found stools at the end of the table, Jake glanced around the bar. “Huh. Looks pretty popular.”
“We try,” the bartender said, sliding a beer down to Alex. The man was stocky, well-built, with dark hair and intense eyes. The tattoos on his wrists said ‘ex-PDF’ to the three Royal daughters. “You kids new in town?”
“Tourists,” Alex answered for all five.
“In this place? Ballsy,” the bartender said. “People around here don’t take too kindly to foreigners with all the shootings going on.”
“Shootings?” Venus asked.
“Every damn month now. Violent crime is up nine hundred percent from ten years ago,” the bartender said darkly. “All of it off-world smugglers in their damnable turf wars.”
“Well, that sucks. But we’re just here to see the city before we head out,” Venus assured him.
The bartender looked her over. “You’re a tourist too?”
“You look Nocturnean.”
“I was born here. Lived for the last fifteen years on Terra with my father,” Venus explained. It happened to be true. “These two are my cousins,” she said, gesturing at Freya and Remilia on either side of her.
“Ah. Well, enjoy your stay, just don’t get too close to the tunnels,” the bartender said. “Half the shootings happen down here.”
“We’ll be careful,” Jake said.
Poor Remilia. I know all dem feels.

I do have one minor criticism, SE. In the bit where Remilia sees the ear rings, you have the fact that they're being bought as a gift for Alpharia mentioned twice within just a few lines. Granted, in real life the dialogue would probably play out exactly as you wrote it. But to a person reading through a scene it's a bit jarring, like a record skipping back half a second.

Now, I'm not much of a writer myself, so take this with a grain of salt; but if I had written that scene, I might have had Remilia say something like, "Ooh, I know who'd like these...", and then proceeded from there as you did. Just seems like it would've kept the scene smoother.

Anyway, now that my two cents have been placed firmly in the coin chute, lemme just say good stuff, and keep it up! If I'm anything to go by, there's a lot more reading than posting.
Okay, I'll change it for the wiki.
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They gotta watch their back if they dont wanna catch a cap in der 'ass
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Funny that you should say that...
The bartender nodded. “Sure. Let’s see some ID, by the by,” he said. All five dutifully presented their cards. The bartender stopped dead when he saw the names. “Oh…”
Venus winked at him over her sunglasses. “Hush. It’s just a night out.”
“I see. Well…I’m honored, your Highness,” he said quietly. “What can I get you?”
“Just a lager, thanks. I’m stuffed,” she said. He grabbed one and slid it down to her.
“Where’s the head?” Jake asked, glancing side to side.
“Over behind the pool tables,” the barkeep said, gesturing.
“Thanks.” Jake stood up and made his way over as the others started on their drinks.
“So, what brings you home, Princess?” the barkeep respectfully inquired.
“It was time to see it first-hand. I’m hardly staying,” Venus said with a shrug. “I have college commitments on Terra.”
“I understand.” The bartender swept their caps into the trash and took a respectful step back. “How do you find Nocturne so far?”
“Hard. Gratifyingly so,” Venus said, sipping her uninspired beer.
Several things happened at once.

Jake opened the door to the bathroom and started to make his way across the room to his seat.

A green object soared through the air.




The bartender gasped and shouted. “None of that!”

Jake collapsed on the floor of the bar.

The room went silent, then loud.

The plainclothes shot to their feet, needle guns in hand.

Alex flew off his stool and sprinted over to where his friend lay crumpled.

Freya’s bottle shattered against the bar.

Several patrons stood, some wavering, some not.
Jake lay on his back on the floor, cradling the spot where the missile had struck him. The back of his head was a mess of broken glass, hair, and blood. Alex knelt by his side, tilting his head up. “Ow…” Jake whimpered.
“Quiet, man, someone hit you with a bottle,” Alex whispered.
“I can’t hear you,” Jake managed.
“Shh, man, shh,” Alex whispered, putting his hand to his lips.
“More than you deserve, shit-heel,” one of the standing patrons said darkly.
“You stupid son of a bitch, you sit the fuck down until the Enforcers get here!” the barkeep roared.
“Cram it.” The patron took another step forward.
“Kneel.” Venus snarled, rising to her feet.
“Fuck off,” the man rumbled, drawing a knife from his pocket. A few people around him tried to grab him, but he slid free. “This is payback.”
“By the name of the Drake King, I command you to KNEEL!” Venus suddenly screamed.
The would-be killer spun, rage in his eyes.
The room turned bright red. It went silent. The plainclothes started slamming the butts of their guns into the backs of the people still standing, forcing them down.
Venus had ripped her glasses off and kicked her stool away. The rage in her was incandescent. The heat from her skin drew vapor from the drops of beer from Freya’s broken bottle. The light from her eyes was so bright that even Remilia couldn’t look at them. It was so bright, that if anyone present had been able to meet her gaze, they would have SEEN the swirls and movement of light within the depthless orbs.
Every single person in the room save the bartender and Venus was on their knees in an instant. Remilia sank into a crouch. Freya was nowhere to be seen.
“Barman, call the Enforcers, a medicae truck, and a coroner,” Venus whispered in a voice from the grave.
“As you wish, your Highness Venus,” he managed, his dark skin turning deathly grey.
Venus took a single step forward. The brilliant light from her eyes surged over to where Alex was still trying to keep Jake conscious. The vaguest flicker of red in the darkest corner of the room indicated that Freya was on the move, impromptu weapon in hand. In an instant, she was gone.
“I return to my home and hear of smugglers. I hear of petty crime and off-world criminals,” Venus hissed. “And now…revenge killings…against a Terran who arrived in the city TODAY?!”
“My...your Highness,” the man with the knife managed, “I beg your mercy, I sought only retribution for the death of my son-”
“BY CAVING IN THE HEAD OF MY BOYFRIEND?” Venus roared. She switched to Old Nocturnean, quite unconsciously. “YOU POLLUTE MY WORLD!”
“I didn’t know who he was!” the man wailed.
“No,” Venus grated out in Gothic. “You DIDN’T! BUT YOU STILL MADE TO SLAY HIM!” Her eyes actually managed to brighten. The tears of regret and sudden horror on the man’s face glimmered in the light. “MURDERER!” she thundered.
“Forgive me,” he sobbed.
Venus bared her teeth, and clenched her fists so hard a drop of blood oozed from both palms. “No.”
“Venus?” Jake managed from the floor. “I can’t hear you.”
Her inhuman gaze flicked to him. He blinked and shied away from her brilliance.
One of the plainclothesmen struggled to his feet and leveled his needle pistol at the man with the knife. The room was so quiet that the sounds of the approaching medicae truck sounded as loud as an orchestra.
“…Throw him into the darkest pits in the Castle. Then forget you put him there,” Venus hissed.
“As you wish, your Royal Highness,” the serf said, holstering his pistol and dragging the weeping man out.
Her eyes swept the prostrate crowd. “Should any man henceforth spill Jacob Seager’s blood…the transgressor shall be taken to Prometheus to be turned into a combat servitor, while fully conscious,” Venus whispered. “Ave Imperator.”
“Ave Imperator,” the serfs echoed, holstering their weapons and shoving people near the door out of the medicae’s path.
Freya flickered out of the shadows cast by Venus’ eyes, bulldozing a path straight to Jake for the medic.
The medic brushed Alex aside, checking Jake’s pulse.
“I can’t hear,” Jake groaned.
“Massive concussion, at least,” the medic murmured. “Let’s get you out of here, your Lordship,” he said, gingerly lifting Jake into a waiting gurney.
What little presence of mind Jake had left kept him silent until the gurney was out of the building. Freya vanished back into the shadows as Alex slowly wiped the blood from his hands. Remilia rose from her crouch, stomach roiling in fear.
“No mercy for the indiscriminate,” Venus whispered in Old Nocturnean.
Venus swept out of the building, climbing into the back of the ambulance. The Enforcers outside paused to allow Alex and Remilia into the car they had called as Freya somehow materialized at the door.
“Venus…what happened?” Jake managed. A medic dug a blood donor card out of Jake’s wallet and paged through the IV bags on the interior of the truck.
“One of my people tried to slay their rightful Prince,” Venus snarled. She locked Jake’s hand in a death grip. “Don’t fall asleep, Jake.”
“What?” Jake whispered.
“The concussion has given him severe tinnitus, your Royal Highness,” the medic nervously asserted. “He will recover if we can get that wound stitched and he gets about a day of sleep.”
“What?” Jake asked louder, clearly on the verge of panic.
Venus glanced down at him, her wrath instantly gone. She leaned down and held his cheek with her free hand, speaking slowly, her eyes closed to protect his. “You. Are. Hurt. Be. Still,” she said.
“Okay,” Jake managed. “What happened?”
“Someone. Tried. To. Ki…hurt. You,” Venus said. As she said it, she felt her arms turn to water. The air in the rattling truck seemed to shrink and cool as the pure, molten rage in her vanished, and her eyes and skin reverted to normal.
“It worked,” Jake whimpered, clearly having missed the word Venus couldn’t bring herself to say.
Venus suddenly shook, fear and loathing and sorrow twisting her stomach into knots. She made a valiant effort not to be sick on her boyfriend’s body. “No,” she whispered. She buried her face in his chest and sobbed.
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Now to go play Serious Sam 3 and watch the Olympics.
Ruttin' cliffhangers...

Good shit, my man. I think different parts of my brain had a pool going on who'd kill the dumbass with the bottle first.
Damn, at first I was: "That was harsh, condemning a man to rot in prison for assault, bitch."
But then, the disapointment in her people, in the situation with criminals running rampant, the emotional stress with her boyfriend being hurt AND she is in fact royalty. She needs to push her authority.

It feels that the best part of this story has built up to this point. Spot on.
Hello boys, I'm back. Give me a few minutes, and I'll get started once again.
He drew a knife. It was attempted Murder. Nocturnean law leaves no room for people like him.
The assault had begun barely an hour ago, and despite everything the Imperium had thrown at them, the Orks had reached the walls. Now up and down the walls sheets of Lasgun fire was being directed at the horde, and the Orks were firing back as the real battle begun. Close range fire had toppled and gutted two more towers, but three of the Siege Towers were going to reach the walls, and the Orks would spill from them like water from a burst dam. Fortunately Ahriman always had a backup plan, and with a few code words spoken into his Vox, it was implemented. Barely fifty metres north, one of the siege towers loomed over the walls, so close you could almost touch it, its shadow lying heavy across the walls. The troopers on the walls were blazing away at it with their Lasguns, Plasma Guns and more, to little effect apart from some scorching on the armoured boarding ramp. The tower mounted big shootas were providing covering fire, and already there were several bodes splayed out on the wall, the blood oozing away in red rivers while their comrades fought for their lives.
“Commissar, who holds that section of the wall?” Ahriman gestured at the tower.
“Captain McCollum’s D Company my Lord.”
“Come with me, they will need our assistance. Bring as many troops as possible with us, they will be needed.”
The troops stopped firing madly the moment they saw the towering Astartes standing before them, ignoring the Big Shoota shells whizzing past him.
“Don’t waste your ammo shooting at the tower; it can’t be destroyed this way. We will have to blow it up from the inside, once the ramp lowers. Form a perimeter, and when the Orks try to disembark we cut them down. Then a few demolition charges into the tower and the tower is destroyed.”
The troops swiftly gathered around the tower, carefully concealing themselves for the Big Shootas mounted on it. The tower creaked forwards, until it was leaning against the wall. From inside, the guttural chants of the Orks could clearly be heard.
With a creaking smash, the tower’s ramp dropped onto the battlements. “WAAAGH!” came the cry from within, raw and primal, and the Orks emerged, weapons held high. The Aetheric blaze of their energy came with them, buffeting the auras of the troops on the walls, sapping their will. Not for long.
Ahriman raised his bolt pistol and opened fire, followed by Commissar Günter’s plasma pistol and the Lasguns of the Tanith in a sheet of las-fire. The leading Orks were cut down, and as more and more stormed out of the Tower, they were cut to shreds. Soon the ramp was slick with blood. One lucky Ork made it through, and cut an unlucky Tanith Trooper in half with its Choppa before it took a frag grenade to the face. But for every Ork killed, two more took its place, and soon more and more reached the Tanith lines before being killed. The toll began to mount.
Ahriman’s Bolt Pistol clicked empty, and he realised that was his last magazine. He was empty, out of rounds. Holstering his pistol, he took up his heqa staff and reached for the Great Ocean. A pulse of destructive energy channelled along the length of his heqa staff tore into the leading Orks, tearing them to shreds. He began to throw blast after blast into them, but even that could do little to stop the torrent now pouring from the tower.
“Troopers, fix bayonets!” Commissar Günter bellowed. He activated his Chainsword and leapt at the nearest Ork. The Tanith troops around him also charged into the fray. Were they trying to get themselves killed? No Prosperine Spireguard would ever do something so rash. Ahriman had to help them, save them from themselves.
>Author entereK
Too right, Captcha
The first swing of his heqa staff took three Orks to pieces and his second blow tore another from skull to crotch in one fluid move. He threw himself into the thick of the fighting, a whirlwind of Aetheric fury. A Nob, one of the Ork minor warleaders tore a Tanith trooper in two with its Power Claw, and turned towards the Commissar. Ahriman’s heqa staff swept out, its copper and gold bands rippling with fire, and cleaved the Ork in two with a single blow, his return thrust taking the arm off another Ork about to kill a Tanith. He tore through the Orks with blazing swipes of his staff and bursts of aether-fire from his gauntlets, his crimson armour now splattered with gore. The Tanith troopers had never seen its like before, and they fought even more fiercely beside him, stabbing with their ‘straight silver’ bayonets and clubbing with the butts of their Lasguns. Though they were slight compared to the Orks, they fought with a strength and fury which made Ahriman proud.
As he fought, struggling to maintain the Enumerations and keep himself detached, he imagined what Magnus would say if he could see him now. ‘Very subtle Ahzek, very subtle’ he would say in that wisely amused voice of his. Of course, if he was he he’d have torn that Hulk to pieces in orbit, long before it could land troops. No point thinking of might-has-beens, not now.
The fight wore on, and Ahriman began to slacken. His every movement was leaden, his thoughts dull and slow, his armour now covered in gashes where he had been too slow to avoid a blow. The Great Ocean was a potent force in combat, but the toll it took upon a warrior was equally potent, and that toll was weakening him the longer the battle continued. His focus was now on simple survival, his consciousness stretching no further than the next enemy to be slain.
Ahriman’s concentration slipped, and a blow from an Ork boy knocked him down, throwing his heqa staff aside. He barely dodged a blow from the Ork’s axe, and struggled to regain his staff. He grimly realised that he could die here. He had hoped that the Tower would act as a bottleneck, allowing them to hold off the Orks long enough to destroy it, but he had been mistaken. Too many times these last few months he had been mistaken, ever since the vision of a cackling god and a fateful bullet came into his mind. An Ork jumped onto him, and he struggled to free himself from the green brute’s grip.
Suddenly a massive explosion knocked him flat, threw the Ork off of him. As the smoke cleared, he struggled to his feet, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Was it a Bomb Squig? An Artillery shell gone wrong? When the smoke finally faded, he saw for himself.
The Tower was gone, twisted metal girders all that were left of it. It slowly sank onto his battered mind. It was gone! Someone had blown it has he had planned!
The few Orks left on the walls were swiftly dispatched by the vengeful Tanith. Commissar Günter came over to him; his longcoat tattered, face bleeding from a cut to his jaw and smoke emitting from his Chainsword’s motor.
“My Lord, the Tower is down. Trooper MacIntyre sacrificed himself to blow it sky high. I intend to request he get a Posthumous Honourifica Imperialis, and I hope you will countersign that. Permission to give the men some rest?”
“Permission granted. The Orks can’t climb the walls; they can’t get in here now. They’ve earned that rest.”
Of the other two towers Ahriman learned when he reviewed the after action reports that evening. The southern tower hit the wall in the Belladon Sector, and after nearly an hour of back and forth fighting, finally the Belladon troops succeeded in demolishing the upper tower section with Demo Charges. The northern tower hit an area manned by the PDF, where after a bloody fight the Orks succeeded in carving a foothold. If it wasn’t for the intervention of a company of dismounted Caorst Panxer troopers, the walls could nearly have been lost. Over four thousand Imperial troops were killed that day, a drop in the bucket compared to the losses on other worlds and in other campaigns, but Ahriman felt every loss. It was men and women like MacIntyre who saved the city that day, those who were willing to sacrifice everything to deny the Orks their victory. They were the ones the Imperium was built for, they were the ones he was fighting for, and they were the ones who would win or lose this war.
And I return. I'll be posting Jake's Incredible Journey Through the Magic Land of Post-Operation Painkillers now.
Alex and Remilia waited on a couch in the room outside the operating room of the local hospital. Freya paced, her fangs bared. Venus sat in the corner, eyes dimmed and wet. A small army of serfs, reporters, and curious onlookers – VULTURES! CARRION BIRDS! – hovered outside the stark room.
A doctor emerged from the operating theater, stripping his gloves off and loosening his mask. Freya was behind him, inaudible and invisible, in a heartbeat, her killer’s instincts unleashed, but under command. Remilia shot to her feet. Venus tried to stand, but the doctor knelt at her feet instead.
“Your Highness. Sieur Seager will live. He’s strong, the glass didn’t break anything. He’ll be as good as gold in three days. We got the Triacetyl mono into his brain in time, no lasting damage.”
The doctor vanished in a black rush as Venus wrapped her arms around him in a fierce hug. “Thank you so much, Doctor. The Apothecaries will revere your name,” she whispered brokenly.
“All in a day’s work, your Highness,” the man said, extracting himself from her arms.
“Well done, Doctor,” Remilia said gravely. Freya let out a sigh she had been holding, slumping against the wall. Alex leaned back in his chair and covered his eyes.
Venus burned the doctor’s ID into her mind with a glance at his hospital badge and released him, letting tears of suppressed fear and newfound relief pour from her eyes.
You know what? I think this next scene I wrote was probably the most emotional one I've ever made.

This, from the beginning of the bar fight to the end of this scene had me on an emotional roller coaster from the beginning to the end. So I hope SOMEONE enjoys it, and I didn't fuck it like I did the thing with Alex+Freya's night out, and Venus explaining that she had made Jake the prince of nocturne without asking first.
Jake himself stirred some time later. He was back in the Castle, he could tell, both from the chilling cold and the décor.
His head…didn’t hurt. He gingerly ran his fingers along where the bottle had hit, and found nothing but smooth skin and a lack of hair. He sat up, noting his sleeping clothes were on, and that the little calendar-clock by the bed said that twenty-seven Terran hours had passed. “Venus?” he called to the empty room.
“Jake…” Venus whispered.
Jake turned away from the clock. Venus was sitting in the chair beside the bed, clad in her exercise clothes and with a dataslate in her hands. She dropped the slate and launched into the bed, halting centimeters from him. “You’re okay,” she managed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and squeezing him like a vice. “In Nocturne’s name, Jake, you’re okay,” she cried.
“Easy, baby, easy,” Jake said, returning the hug and easing her down onto the bed next to him. “I’m all right, it’s okay.”
“Jake…” Venus wept. “I…I thought he had…m-murdered you,” she sobbed.
“I’m all right, baby, really,” Jake said, burying his head in her hair and breathing her in. “I’m all right. Please don’t cry.”
Venus sobbed in relief.
The door swung open. “Hey, Venus, we’re going to turn in…JAKE!” Alex suddenly roared, crossing the room in seconds and crouching by the bedside. “You stubborn fuck, you nearly gave us heart attacks!”
“Yelling. Yelling in my ear,” Jake said, flinching back from his ebullient friend.
“Sorry, sorry.” Alex beamed at him. “Man, you scared the shit out of us. How do you feel?”
“Good, actually,” Jake said, flexing his hands experimentally. “Tired. Little sore in my legs…other than that, I feel fine.”
“Awesome. Hey! Get in here!” Alex called, shielding his mouth from his friend. Venus sat up and sniffled.
“Hey, sleepyhead!” Freya said cheerfully, bounding into the room with Remilia in tow. “How’s that thick head of yours?”
“Fine, I think. It’ll take weeks to regrow my flowing, golden tresses, though,” said the dark and curly-haired teen. “What happened?”
“Some fuckface thought you made a good target for a revenge killing. He’s chained to the floor in the basement if you wanna go extract Salamander vengeance,” Remilia said.
“That sounds good. What does that involve?” Jake asked.
“Live-fire practice with flamers,” Remilia said.
“Cool. I’ll let him rot, though, I’m a softie.” Jake sat up, squeezing Venus’ hand. “I was out for a whole day?”
“And the doctor says you’re down for two more, so rest up,” Freya advised. She leaned forward and nuzzled Jake’s neck, smiling fiercely. Jake blushed. “Rrrgh, so GLAD!” she said, happily hugging him herself.
“Thanks, Freya,” Jake said. She leaned back in a playful crouch on the edge of the bed and grinned at him.
“We’ve been clustered around the door to your room for the last day, doing nothing but ordering takeout and working out,” Alex said drily. “Venus hasn’t left your suite since they dragged you back from the hospital.
Jake leaned over and kissed his girlfriend. “Thanks, baby,” he said quietly.
She managed a shattered smile.
“Well…dude, if you want, we can pick up where we left off. Go be tourists for a while more before we leave for Fenris. My imbecile father is still fucking around in Clymene, the Tide is in orbit…you can do whatever you want for a while,” Alex said.
“Let’s go be tourists and not let stupid drunks ruin a good thing,” Jake said, an air of finality filling his tone.
“Attaboy!” Freya said.
“You were very brave, Jake,” Remilia said quietly.
“Naw, I was deaf and prone. Venus was brave. Alex was brave.” Jake sank back into his pillow and grinned. “You guys are the best friends I could ever ask for.” Remilia sniffed.
“Well. You sleep. I’m gonna go rest, too.” Alex bumped fists with the smaller man and made for the door. “Night.”
“Me too,” Freya added. She leaned over and nipped Jake’s ear, lingered there. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she whispered.
“As am I,” Jake said solemnly. She smiled and flipped off the bed, clearly planning to capitalize good feelings.
Remilia leaned in and hugged him, slow and gentle. “Thanks, Jake. You really, really scared me,” she managed.
Jake squeezed her back. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he promised.
Finally, only Venus was left. Jake looked over at her and nearly gasped. The light in her eyes was gone. Not dim, not fading: dead. Her eyes were balls of blank, red meat. “Venus?” he asked, worried.
“One of my people tried to murder you because of your skin color,” Venus said. Her voice was flat and empty. Completely devoid of the emotions that defined her.
“Venus…don’t you DARE blame yourself for this!” Jake pleaded. Sudden adrenaline pounded into his legs, sparking circulation in muscles that hadn’t been used in a day.
“My people hate offworlders so much, one tried to kill you.” It was a statement of fact, not a question.
“One! ONE person! Venus, the man I grew up next door to was murdered for his stereo! There’s always wackos, there’s always morons! You think I’m going to let this change what I think about Nocturne? About-”
He stopped. His logic trains switched rails. She thought of herself as Nocturne, blood and soul. She didn’t think this was literally her fault. She thought it was a defect of her people and her world…which meant it was part of her. Not physically, but spiritually. In a way, he suddenly realized, was more important to her than any other thing else in her entire life…besides the one thing that mattered most of all to Nocturneans: her family. Him. She was thinking that a fault in her way of life had nearly murdered him.
Without a word, he slid his arms under hers and hugged her deeply, dragging her unresisting body across him until she was prone on top of him. Remilia discreetly closed the door to their suite and left as fast as she could.
“Venus, Venus baby, please, please don’t do it,” he whispered. His heart seized as she managed a single, wracking sob.
He pulled her under the covers next to him and slid his torso over hers, holding her down and staring desperately into her dead eyes. “Venus, listen to me. I can not, will not EVER blame you for this. Not you, not Nocturne, not the Salamanders, not ANYTHING but one stupid drunk and some Terran criminals. Do you understand me?” he urgently asked.
“I nearly lost you,” she rasped. “It shouldn’t have happened.”
“And Keiter shouldn’t have shot Morticia in the back! Horrible people happen to strangers! Never let that get between us!” Jake pleaded. Tears were gathering in his eyes now. “I love you so much it hurts when you’re gone,” he whispered. “Never think this will change that.”
Venus closed her empty eyes and let her own tears flow. “…I have…never…felt such shame...” she managed.
Jake buried his head in her shoulder and hugged her until his arms ached. “No…no no no no no…Forgedaughter, my little fire, you’re better than that,” he sobbed. “Better, you’re, you’re the Drake Princess and the love of my life and stop, please stop,” he babbled.
“…Jake,” she whispered, utterly drained. He pulled back and stared as her eyes creaked open.

A single, tiny spark appeared in both.

His heart leapt.
Her eyes weren’t focused as she whispered. “…I’m a hopeless mess.”
How bad?
How Good!
I can never top that, not even with the awesomeness I have planned.

For a happy "end" I like it.

If for some reason you decide to change anything, I think it should be Jake's mental reaction, nothing big just place a little bit of doubt in Jake's mind (write it off as his mind wandering from drugs or something). Since Venus has been through a traumatic ordeal and she "might" not be thinking properly. A little something that could nag at him occasionally, and if needed it gives you somewhere to start from for any future relationship problems.
Okay, I found the problem, and I'm rewriting it.

Can i do something nice for you? Do you want a poem done for a DnD campaign or something?
You guys are the best there is. Keep up the good work!
Nice story bras
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SE told me it was hard to track the locations in Trip into Hell, so I made this quick and dirty Map of Port Huron. As I go, I will update it with new locations and other stuff.
Excellent, excellent. A bit of exposure of Venus's flaws, and more depth to Jake are nothing but good.
I have more, but Tea first. another few hours, and I will amaze you.
these are great stories. Better than the so called "canon" fluff. They are totally readable and enjoyable. Please SE continue with the WH40HS, AA, please contine with The Trip. And I'm sorry but the others are nice also, all the side stories help fill out the picture.
Damn... just damn. I'm not one to read WH40k fluff but this has gotten me hooked as a trout.

Oh man, when Jake took the bottle to the head... i think all my neurons in my mind did as >>20073049 wrote. Quietly gathering up in a circle and taking bets on who would kill the bastard first.

SE, AA, DM and everyone else that i haven't mentioned, you guys are awesome. Splendid work on all fronts here. Please, PLEASE, keep up teh good work. I just can't get enough of it.
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>She leaned forward and nuzzled Jake’s neck, smiling fiercely. Jake blushed. “Rrrgh, so GLAD!” she said
>She leaned over and nipped Jake’s ear, lingered there.

"Venus baby, don't get jealus now but I could get used to this.
The night was dark and cool, a refreshing contrast from the chaos of the previous day. The Orks had been held off, thanks to some hot shot who was leading the defence, and who had held off an entire Siege Tower’s worth of Orks almost singlehandedly. There was a plethora of rumours about him, every one more ludicrous than the last, from a reincarnation of Ollanius Pius, to some visiting Space Marine. The most ludicrous of all was that it was Professor Ahriman, or Lord Ahriman as they called him, who had come here from Prospero for some reason and was active in the defence of the city. Though Prospero was very close to Seadelant, Julius would have heard if Ahriman was here, and Ahriman would have sought him out likewise.
Whatever the reason, the Orks had now fallen back to their encampment outside the city, out of the range of conventional artillery, and now their own super heavy artillery were busy throwing shells at the city’s shields in a pointless exercise which nevertheless was having a psychological effect on the defenders, the endless ‘crump’ of the shells impacting on the shields keeping the troops awake, and sending flickers of energy running across the shields from where each shell landed.
Julius sat in the small garden outside a former residential hab, abandoned by its owners and pressed into service as a Barracks for the CDA. The others were asleep within, but try as he might he could not get any shut-eye. There was too much in his head, to many thoughts and feeling he could not exorcise which were robbing him of his sleep, leaving him tossing and turning in his PDF issue sleeping bag. By sitting outside, watching the shells fall and the stars wheel overhead, he felt he might be able to clear his head.
By now, Venus and co would be on a ship bound for Fenris. Lucky them. Though being fair, Fenris had some nasty beasts of its own, Thunderwolves, Ice Fiends and worse. At least they’d be staying around the Fang, and not heading for the world ocean where Kraken and Sea Dragons prowled. He’d read about Fenris, and his father had visited there once with Lord Russ. When he’d asked about it, and also asked naively about the whole ‘there are no wolves on Fenris’ thing, his father only said ‘a hard world breeds hard people, and Fenris is the hardest of all,’ and he’d left it at that.
Suddenly a flicker of light caught Julius’s eye, a faint light in the gloom coming from the building across from the Hab. Later on he couldn’t explain what motivated him to get up, go and investigate, but investigate he did.
Julius tip-toed into the building, thankful he wasn’t wearing his heavy combat boots, so he wouldn’t betray a sound. He followed the faint light through the building, until it came to a partially closed door, with the muffled sound of a voice coming from within. Alarm bells rang in Julius’s mind, and for a brief second he thought about turning and heading straight back out, but his courage overcame his doubt, and he opened the door.
Inside single lit candle resting on an empty ammo crate illuminated the room, a sweet scent coming from it. Julius wondered how that candle was able to shine such a bright light. Summer was crouching before it, the light seemingly catching in her long golden hair. She was saying something aloud, reading from something. In her other hand she held an icon, a small figurine of the Emperor. Now that he was closer, Julius could clearly hear what she was saying, “The Emperor of Mankind is the Light and the Way, and all his actions are for the benefit of mankind, which is his people. The Emperor is God and God is the Emperor, so it is taught in the Lectio Divinitatus, and above all things, the Emperor will protect...” she stopped abruptly, sensing something behind her.
She turned and stared at Julius, her surprise swiftly masked behind a hardened face. She knew exactly what he was thinking, could see every though as it crossed his face.
”Summer, what are you doing?”
“What does it look like?”
“You’re…one of them. One like Keiter. A…a…”
“An Emperor worshipper. Is that what you’re trying to spit out?” Julius had no reply to that.
She carefully placed her Icon and copy of the Lectio Divinitatus down, stood up and walked over to Julius, staring him down the whole time. There was fire in her eyes, and even her walk was different. It was like she was suddenly replaced by a totally different person, someone who was more forceful, full of spunk, full of fire.
Several things flashed through Julius’s mind as he saw her approach. First, how dangerous she now seemed. If she had a weapon with her, Julius had no doubt she would use it, and with her physique, she could most easily kick his arse without using any weapons at all. Secondly the air of authority she seemed to exude, pinning him down by her mere presence. And finally, how attractive she was, well built, well muscled, her long golden hair and eyes afire. He hoped Isis would forgive him for that final thought.
Face to face, Julius forced himself to speak. “You know how many laws you’re breaking, going against the very Imperial Establishment, being part of an underground wellspring that wishes to establish the Cult of the Emperor, against His will.”
“Said the Viper to the Mamba. You may ridicule my faith, but you neglect to mention your own beliefs.”
In a single deft move, she reached over and pulled out the object which hung around Julius’s neck. Julius started, but Summer was too fast for him, snatching his Crux from around his neck.
“I saw you reaching for that when you saw that body. You’re a Catheric. You believe in a God, the same way I do.”
“Well at least my God isn’t on Terra telling people he isn’t a God, and persecuting anyone who believes otherwise. You know you’re breaking the Imperial Creed.”
“And you’re not? He hates any worship, if your namesake Ollanius Pius hadn’t stood up to him, you would be in the same boat as me. Stop acting so high and mighty.”
With a few words, Summer had cut right to the bone. His faith wavered every so often, and was never as strong as his father’s, but he still considered himself a Catheric. He was eternally proud of what his Father did, making a stand and convincing the Emperor to allow them to worship openly. Isis never intruded upon his faith, and sometimes met him after services for study or other activities. But no matter what, he always knew that he was a deviant, and even his closest friends like Jake still found him odd because of his beliefs. She noticed his changing expression as realisation sunk in.
“We’re not so different, are we?”
“No, I suppose we’re not.” Julius had to admit. Her fierce look softened, but she was still more animated and alive than he’d ever seen her before. This was the real her, unchained and unleashed, and Julius pitied anyone standing in her way.
“Tell you what, I won‘t mention your Cathericism to anyone if you don’t mention my Emperor Worship. Deal, offworlder?”
Julius had no choice but to agree. “Deal.” He shook her hand, amazed by how warm it was, and without another word he turned and left her. That touch would stay with him as he tried to sleep, and he spent another night tossing and turning in his sleeping bag, even more thoughts added to the maelstrom roaring in his mind.
Just wanted you to know AA, that I have begun reading Trip into Hell. "Once again, Ahzek Ahriman was going to war." Looking good so far.
And that was the end of Part 1, 'Invasion'.
Part 2, 'Occupation' begins shortly (i.e as soon as I finish writing it)

Many thanks anon. hope you enjoy
This was playing
when I read this part:
"The Sky was falling. Explosions painted the sky, burning wrecks plummeted to their destruction, and streaking blasts of anti-aircraft fire stitched bright traceries across the heavens."
Fitting, sisn't it?
Very. I was listening to the 'Klendathu Drop' from Starship Troopers while writing it.
Oh you motherfucker... I got to watch that movie again soon.
Alright, I've been reading Trip Into Hell for an hour or two now and I'm going to take a break. I've come so far as here
I hope we get to read more interactions between his him and his squaddies.
Just you wait, the best (and worst) is yet to come...
Also bumpm before bed, be back tomorrow. Keep it alive, /tg/, we have so much awesomeness for you if you can keep it going.
These are great!

Keep it up!
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I've been a long time lurker on /tg/ but I'm bumping this thread to keep it alive.

Keep up the Good work SE, Ahriman and Darkmage! You guys rock!

*wake up late because I feel like shit*
*read SE's post*
I would fucking love that, but the offer is more than enough.
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All right, I'm conscious. Thanks for the activity overnight.

Heee :3

I've tried to depict Freya as the eternally-cheerful, tactile one. She'd scare the hell out of me in real life, that kind of energy and physicality don't mix well with me.

She is a cutie, though.

You sure?
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I wouldn't mind
“Sleep,” he said, through his own tears. He pulled her exercise clothes off and huddled her bare body against him under the sheets. With a snap of his fingers the lights died.
The vaguest red glow of life flickered in her eyes. It glimmered off of the light fixtures in the ceiling, anemic and watery. “…Jake…I thought I lost you,” Venus’ ragged voice said in the darkness.
“I can’t imagine what that was like,” Jake said. “I’ll try not to do it again,” he managed to say with a smile.
She turned her eyes to him. Tiny little balls of remorseful flame danced in them. Her skin was cooler than it was when she was fresh from a swim. “I’ll…sleep for a week,” she said faintly.
Jake slid his arm under her head and snugged her up against him. “I’ll be here.” He breathed a sigh of relief as she finally moved, running a tremulous hand up his chest to rest on his heart.
“I haven’t…felt that kind of loss…even when Morticia…” Venus confessed.
Jake nodded, squeezing her hand with his. “I know. Wouldn’t that have been the crowning irony, though? The one guy in the group that doesn’t drink gets killed by a beer?”
She was quiet for a moment. “…I want to laugh, but I don’t have any in me,” she said faintly.
“It’s okay, that joke sucked.” Jake let the tension of his horrified realization bleed out. He was a bit shaky, himself, now.
“My world…my family…” she whispered. “All I want to do is show you the best parts of them. The parts I love.” She sighed again. “Or…the parts Dad said I would love.”
Jake nodded in the darkness. “Well, baby, so far, Nocturne has amazed me.”
Her voice was so soft he almost missed it. “I hoped you’d say that.”
Jake propped his head up a bit more and kissed the top of her head. “I’m glad you didn’t have the guy executed.”
“It wouldn’t have made the trip better, certainly, but…I don’t want to think of you as a killer, even completely justified,” Jake said. “I love you, Venus. You know that?”
“I do,” she said. “Sometimes I don’t think I deserve it, but you do it anyway.” She finally managed a ghost of a smile. “Keep going, okay?”
Jake slid his hand across her bare stomach to link with his other hand. Her flesh was slowly warming back up, but she wasn’t back up to full heat. He tried to enjoy the rare moment. “As long as you want me to.” He tried to marshal his thoughts. “Venus, don’t answer this if you don’t want to. What did you think about when I was out cold?”
Venus didn’t answer for a moment. When she did speak, at length, her voice was deliberate and paced. “Not much. I just sat there recording a message for Dad, mostly. I told the whole story. I haven’t sent it.”
“All right.” He tugged the covers up to her collarbone.
She sighed lightly. “We talked a bit about how we would reschedule things if you wanted to stay here. The governor came by a few hours ago to offer me his apologies. A Salamander Brother Lieutenant came to me with the drunk guy’s file, which I told him to burn. The file, not the guy. I don’t care who he is yet.”
“Me neither,” Jake said. He placed a hand over her stomach for a moment, and smiled into her hair as he felt a bit of her flame reignite. “See? You’re getting better.”
Venus closed her eyes and tried to think. “I didn’t even leave for food. I just stayed.”
“Thank you,” Jake said softly. He felt his own eyes water a bit again as the depth of her devotion started to dawn on him. “I’m sorry I made you hurt.”
“I’m sorry you got hurt,” she said in the same voice. “You know…Remilia told me that the way I looked when I thought you…had died was so scary that everyone in the room took a knee.”
“I couldn’t hear it, but I saw it,” Jake murmured. The memory was clear in his mind, much more so than the ride to the hospital. “I’m not surprised. What were you saying?”
Venus winced against his arm. “Can we not talk about that?” Her voice was strained with exhaustion.
“Sure, baby,” he soothed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, huh?”
“Yeah.” She ran her hand over her eyes, rubbing weariness away and trying to settle down. He slid his arms free of her, but paused before he rolled away.
He leaned across her and kissed her as gently as he could, barely more than a brush against her lips. “I love you. Don’t ever think I won’t.”
“I know, Jake,” she whispered. “I wish…I wish I could show you what that means to me.” She bit her lip as another tear worked its way down her face. This one was relief, not self-loathing.
Aaaaw :3
Poor girl (and lad), it mustn't been easy worrying your loved one would die.

If you really want to go ahead I'm sure I'd love it, but you really don't need to.
The next morning, the group rendezvoused at the mess in the castle itself, to ascertain if Jake was ready for travel. To the others’ relief, not only was Jake recovering well, but Remilia noted that Venus’ self-blame seemed to have dissipated. Neither teen was quite themselves yet, but Jake was determined to move on.
After a quick meal – Jake wasn’t quite ready to pick his workout routine back up yet – they dispersed over the city, with the boys eager to see the ocean-side scenic overlook they had been planning to see the previous day, and the girls visiting the city’s highest terrace, where the upper crust shops and art galleries were.
Jake stood on the edge of the balcony and watched the world fall away from him.
They were atop a ledge over the sheer cliff that dropped down to the ocean below. The red water looked like a sea of blood, stretching out to infinity.
“Hell of a view, all right,” Jake said.
Alex leaned on the railing and peered down. “Yeah. We’re at least four klicks up.”
“If you look close, you can see where the egress tunnels for the sluices are,” Jake said, pointing down to some discolored points on the water.
“Cool. I wonder how acidic that water is?” Alex asked.
“Well, there’s whales in it, so probably not very,” Jake said.
Alex sipped from his bottle of water and cast a glance over his friend. Shorn hair on the back of his head aside, he looked no worse for wear. “You need to sit down?”
“I do, actually,” Jake said. He glanced over to where a group of Nocturneans were standing, taking in the view. He ambled over to a seat and dropped in with a sigh. Alex sat down next to him, passing him the water. “Thanks.”
“Is it your head or your legs?” Alex asked.
“Neither, just tired.” Jake took a sip and passed it back. “I think I’ll chill here for a while. You want to go do something else?”
Alex glanced down the street to where the city’s foot traffic moved under the terraced roads. “The girls should be meeting us for lunch in ten minutes at a café up the terrace. Want to take a cab?”
“I may have to,” Jake confessed. He stuck his hand out and flagged a passing taxi.
As the vehicle slowed, Alex leaned over the driver’s side window. “Orlaront’s café, please,” he said.
“Sure thing,” the driver said. Jake eased into the vehicle and sat down, massaging his temples. The car sped off. “So, you folks from around here?” the driver asked.
“Seems like everyone on the planet has either asked or assumed that since we got here,” Jake said wryly.
“We’re Terrans,” Alex said. “That won’t be a problem, will it?”
“Someone already picked a fight with us over it,” Jake added.
“Nah, your money’s silver.” The driver deftly maneuvered them through the weaving traffic. “You in town for business?”
“End of school road trip, actually,” Jake said.
“From Terra? Brave of you.”
Jake shrugged. “I have family here.”
“Ah.” The driver pulled them over beside the modest café. “Here we go.”
“Thanks for the ride, sir,” Jake said, heaving himself out as Alex paid him.
“No problem. Enjoy your stay,” the driver said, pulling back into traffic.
Jake watched him go. “People hereabouts can’t decide whether to be nice or ambivalent towards us,” he said under his breath.
Alex snorted. “Just noticing that, are you?”
“It wasn’t this bad in Clymene or Aethonion,” Jake observed. He opened the door and walked in, spotting Venus’ red eyes at the back of the room. “Nobody tried to brain me there.”
“I’ll grant you that,” Alex said.
Venus saw the boys and waved them over. Jake noted with relief that Venus’ eyes were back to their usual, healthy glow, and that she wasn’t wearing her sunglasses, having slung them in her collar. She stood up and hugged him as Alex slid into his seat. “How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Much better, thanks,” Jake said. He looked around. There wasn’t a soul in the place besides them. “This place is vacant.”
“Good. Privacy,” Venus said.
After lunch, the group split back up, with Venus heading up to the markets with Jake and Remilia as Alex and Freya went down to the cragfalls, about the only tourism destination in the city. On the way, Jake paused as they walked past the bar where he had been attacked, only two days before.
“Would you guys give me a second?” he asked. Venus and Remilia exchanged a look.
“You want to go back?” Remilia asked.
“Not looking for trouble. I just kind of feel bad for scaring the shit out of the bartender like that,” Jake said.
“Well, I doubt he’s even there, but if you want to go, go,” Venus said. “Take your time.”
“Thanks.” Jake entered the place and found it deserted, save a few people who looked like regulars at the bar, and to his satisfaction, the bartender from before.
The barkeep saw him making his way over from the door and started. “Lord Seager! Sir, I owe you a sincere apology for before, that should never have happened.”
“Easy, man, easy, I’m fine,” Jake said.
The man grimaced in remorse. “It was a disgrace to this establishment and to Skarokk.”
“It’s also over. No hard feelings,” Jake said, extending his hand. The bartender gratefully shook it.
“Thank you for your mercy, your Lordship, and for that of the Princess. I’m in your debt.”
“Not really, you just did what you had to. And the asshole responsible is contemplating eternity in the Castle dungeon, so I think it works out,” Jake said. “Seriously, nobody’s blaming you. I just stopped by to apologize for the whole mess.”
The bartender inclined his head in respect. “Thank you, my Lord, that makes a difference to me.”
“Good.” Jake nodded back. “Goodbye.”
“Thanks for stopping in, your Lordship,” the barman called after him.
Alex and Freya huddled around a table in the shade, staring out at a waterfall three kilometers high. The meltwater from the glacial peaks of the mountains coursed down the side of the razor-sharp obsidian crags that lent the waterfall its name, fanning out over the mountainside until it fell into the sea.
The crowd here was almost all off-worlders, in contrast to the rest of the planet. Groups of sunscreen-coated offspring of visiting merchants and vacationing rich stood up against the railing and gabbled about the spectacle.
Freya sipped her water bottle and watched. “I’ve seen two attempted pickpocketings so far. Enforcers were close enough to spook off both, though.”
“Shit.” Alex grimaced and took a pull on his own drink. “How did things get so bad? Open theft? Attempted murder?”
“Who knows,” Freya asked rhetorically. She craned her head back and stared at the astounding waterfalls. “Hell of a view, though.”
“It sure is,” Alex said. He chuckled to himself. “You know, growing up in Startseite, you think you’ve seen it good when you go into the hives. You see how people live there, then you go back up to the surface and you look at what you have. You think to yourself ‘man, I have seen it all.’ Then you fly to Nocturne, and hey!”
“Yeah.” Freya nodded her assent. “Magnificent world.”
“Sure is.” Alex looked over his shoulder and noted an approaching figure with interest. “Eyes on, Astartes.”
Jake Seager, Diplomancer Extraordinaire!
“What?” Freya asked. A Salamander in full Power Armor was marching up the street to the scenic overlook, parting the throngs of people with no effort whatsoever. Alex spotted waving mechdendrites behind his shoulders – a Techmarine.
The people at the railing spotted him and erupted in awed whispers. The Nocturneans around the Marine, however, barely even reacted to his presence, simply walking around him with a respectful nod. The contrast amused Freya.
“Hmm. The Wolves don’t do that,” she said.
“On Fenris, the average Fenrisian is scared shitless of the Space Wolves,” Freya said. “They swoop down in Assault Packs to break up clan wars that get out of hand, abduct gifted sons to serve as warriors, fight monsters in the wastelands…here, they’re friends. Kin.”
“Which system do you think works better?” Alex asked.
“Can’t compare them. Fenris doesn’t know about the rest of the Imperium. They sure as hell don’t have this kind of technology and awareness of the greater universe. If they did…” Freya trailed off, thinking. “I suspect the Wolves would treat the Fenrisians like the Salamanders treat the Nocturneans, only a bit more judgmental.”
Alex cocked his eyebrow behind his glasses. “Judgmental how?” Alex asked.
“The Salamanders think shared burdens and common struggles make them stronger. The Wolves think competition and survivalistic outlooks make them stronger.” Freya flexed her bicep, rippling the Wolves tattoo on her left arm. “Raw skill and ferocity, not community and generosity.”
But the vikings where great cooperators and created a sort of primative buisness ventures to fund going on trade missions!

Yes, I know it's spess vikings and everything is fiction, I'm just saiyan (I'm not saiyan you should stop or change your writing).
Oh, I know, and Fenris does have an economy of sorts. Freya's describing the Wolves' interactions with the locals, not the interactions of the locals with each other.
Her boyfriend nodded. “Fenris will be very different.”
“It will.” Freya saluted to the Techmarine as he passed. He noted the clearly Fenrisian girl and deduced her identify with a flash of his bionics. Rather than stop to acknowledge her, however, he simply nodded quietly and continued on his way. “Techmarines, however, are a breed apart everywhere, I suspect,” Freya said once he was well out of hearing range.
“I wouldn’t know, I defer to you,” Alex said.
The plainclothes serfs behind them clearly wanted to acknowledge their master, Freya’s magnificent eyes observed, but kept their cover in the moving crowds of people.
“Good on them, keeping their heads down,” she said with approval.
“The guards?”
“Fifteen more than two nights ago.”
“Fuckin’ A, that’s a lot of muscle,” Alex murmured.
“Surprised?” Freya asked drily.
“Not at all.” Alex sipped his water again and stood, brushing his legs off. “I want to go see the feeder falls.”
“Sure. You know how to get there?” Freya asked.
Alex jerked his head at the broad spiral staircase to the side of the rows and rows of tourists. “Just up the stairs, yeah?”
“Should be. Have fun. Imma find a little girl’s room,” Freya said, making off in the other direction.
Alex started up the stairs, maneuvering past the crowds of tourists on the tall, reinforced stairway into the sky. It ascended nearly twenty stories, and was cored with solid bars of reinforced iron, embossed and decorated with pictures of snapping drakes and breaching whales. The crowd petered out as the gravity and heat took their toll on the off-worlders, until only Alex and a few brave souls were left on the spiral. The stairs halted at an observation platform with a thick wrought-iron bannister and railing, and Alex stopped to lean on it, breathing heavily.
The ocean spread out to eternity under his gaze. The spiral staircase stood out from the steep mountain face like a tree from an open field. Behind and below him, and even above, the magnificent cragfalls shimmered blood red under the sun. Alex sank into a stone chair and stared out at the view. “Hell of a world,” he whispered.
His vox beeped. He started and immediately muted it, blushing as the other tourists glared at him for disrupting the moment. He yanked it out and flipped it open. “Hello?” he asked quietly.
“Alex! How ya doin’, kid?” he father asked. Alex closed his eyes in sudden apprehension.
“Fine. Yourself?” he asked, scanning the skyline for any approaching aircraft.
“Much better, now that the blasted generator’s fixed, I’ve done a bit of work on the surface, and the Salamanders are clearing me to leave.”
“Good to hear. When are you heading out?” Alex asked.
“Not before I see you, don’t worry, I haven’t come this far to turn back now!” his father said. The plastic of the vox creaked in Alex’s hand.
“Dad…the point of a road trip is to get away from the elements of the familiar. I knew the Star was heading this way before we left Earth, I would have just had you bring us here if I wanted to bring you along,” Alex noted.
“Alex, you sound like you don’t want to see me!” Lord Carlin said, hurt.
“How old were those girls hanging off your arms at the graduation? What were their names?” Alex asked under his breath, standing up and making for the least crowded part of the observation deck.
“If you want to see me before you go, fine, I can’t stop you, but leave my friends and Freya out of this,” Alex said coldly. “Where are you?”
“Skarokk Starport, dock four.” Alex groaned. He was already in the city?!
“I’ll drop by and say hello, alone, as soon as I can. Wouldn’t want to hold you up,” Alex said curtly. “Bye.” He hung up halfway through his father’s farewell and dropped the vox into his pocket after removing the battery. “Douchebag,” he muttered.
>that feel when your father remarries and down priorites his blood children
>that feel when ever you ask him something that might cost him money he says he already pays child support
>that feel he remarries again, this time to a 25 year younger wife and spend >2500€ for a boob-job
>that feel when you have ONE argument and he renouces contact with you

Yeah, fathers are fucking douchebags.
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What is it with my stories attracting fa/tg/uys that have parallel problems in their own lives? I do a story about Jake being bitterly poor and the dude who can't afford food shows up, I do a story about Remilia getting hit as a child and a dude with an abusive parent shows, I do a story about Remilia cutting herself and The Editor's friend starts it up, I do a thing about Joe Carlin ignoring his son's preferences and now this.

I'm not sure whether to feel guilty that I'm dredging up bad memories for my readers or flattered that people can relate to the problems of my future magic space princesses in space.
I would rack it up as you nailing characters that got relatable problems and situations. And don't feel guilty for my part, I have no problem talking about it with people I know or don't know. Life just sucks sometimes.
And I should rewatch Lain sometime.
Mothers are little different.

Humans are assholes, all of them.

You're doing great. If people can relate to it, that's good.
I have been reading both stories more or less simultaneously, and i am intrugued by the mentions of Road Trip in Trip into Hell, and I have a question.
the girls are leaving Nocturne soo, at the same time and the Orkis invade sedlant. will the girls hear about the invasion, and what will their reactions be to it?
They may hear of it eventually, but they'll be long gone from Nocturne if they do. They certainly aren't going to do anything about it.

The wordfiltered material is on this page. Please note that the underscore and period are part of the URL.
Remilia explained. “Dug some glass out of your head and stitched you back up with protein cord, gave you some triethyl mono-submorozin to prevent brain damage, gave you some anticoncussives for good measure, and sealed it up. Minus the glass, it’s the same thing they did to me after I shattered the fuck out of my leg four years back in practice,” Remilia said. She rolled one pant leg up until a tracery of faded white scars that stretched clean around her left thigh were plainly visible under the red sun.
“Yow,” Jake said. “How did you manage that?”
“The ball went left, my torso went backwards, my leg went right, my foot went forward,” Remilia recited. She smirked at his shudder. “Spent a week in the hospital after they figured I cracked my head on the fall, too.”
“You and Alex both have good sports catastrophe stories,” Jake chuckled. “I’ll stick with sitting behind a nice, safe desk, drawing things.”
“Paper cuts certainly heal faster than compound fractures, even mine,” Remilia guessed.
“Yep.” Jake sat back and held an ice cube on his tongue, cooling his mouth off. Venus stood and dropped her empty drink cup in a nearby recycling bin, leaving her bag behind.
“You guys mind if I go drop off a message?” she asked, as a passing Techmarine, the same one that had caught Freya and Alex’s eye, clomped up the road towards the public tram station.
“Go ahead,” Remilia said as Jake nodded. Venus walked up to the Techmarine and asked him to halt, discussing something with him.
Jake let the ice melt and swallowed. “Even here, it’s hot enough to fry soylens on the pavement.”
“Yeah. Apparently the whole city freezes solid in the Time of Trial when the glaciers up the mountain freeze,” Remilia said idly.
Venus returned from the Techmarine. “Tech-Brother Corensia said that he would be happy to pass along our acceptance to a dinner with the Governor before we depart and where the hell is my stuff?” she suddenly asked.
“What?” Jake sat up.
“My bag. I left it on the ground next to the bench. Where is it?” she asked, pointing. Sure enough, her bag was gone.
Remilia swore and vaulted up off the bench. Her bag wasn’t in the hands of any of the nearby people, and somehow it had been snatched out from under even her senses. “Fuck!”
“What the hell is wrong with this city?!” Venus snarled.
A serf materialized behind them. “Is this yours, Princess Venus?” he asked, her bag in his hands.
“Yes! What happened?” Venus asked, snatching it up and rifling through it.
“The perpetrator dropped it on top of a trash barrel in the alley behind us, your Highness, with this,” the serf said, passing her a note. She grabbed it and read it aloud.
“‘I wouldn’t have taken it if I had known it was yours, Princess,’” Venus said. Her hand shook with suppressed anger as she handed the note back to the serf, who pocketed it. “My city fills with vermin and I can do nothing without ruining the trip any more than it already has been,” she snarled. She turned to the serf, eyes glaring through her shades. “Put the Enforcers on it.”
“Yes, your Highness,” the serf said, then turned away to speak into his collar.
“Would someone like to tell me how this lift went unobserved?” Venus asked a few shamefaced serfs that had appeared behind her.
“No clue, your Highness, whoever this was, they were hellacious fast,” one volunteered.
Venus’ stomach tightened in frustration. “I see.” Jake moved to set his hand on her shoulder and paused. She sensed his movement, though, and sighed through her teeth. “Fine. Fine. I’m heading back to the markets for one last thing, then we’re out of here,” she said tightly. She walked off without a word as the serfs melted into the crowd.
Bumping for the others. Darkmage and AA, give us moar
Bump for more. I really like your guys work. I don't really think I'm qualified to provide feedback though
Poor Venus =/
Point out something you like, if anything?
I can't choose everything as an option?
Believe me, we'd prefer to hear that than nothing.
I may have stuff for you late tonight, depending. Keep her going for SE.
I hope they hear about it too.
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Alex stomped up the ramp to his father’s shuttle, the Invisible Hand. The ship was a massively modified Imperial Navy transport, all lines, angles, planes, and gilding. Alex hated the damn thing.
A figure at the top of the ramp greeted him. The man was drawn, skinny, and always looked a bit confused, but he was also nearly the only person on Carlin’s crew that Alex liked. “Heeeey, kid, how’s life treating you?” he asked, lazily flicking some ash off of his cigar.
“It’s been a wild vacation, Big Al,” Alex admitted, shaking the much shorter man’s hand. “Yours?”
“Man, it’s hot as hell up here,” Big Al said, puffing on the cigar, which Alex suspected the diminutive Astropath rolled himself. “Radio says it’s something like forty C at the spaceport…but who lives at the spaceport?”
“You’re in the spaceport, Big Al,” Alex said.
“Oh, hey.” The psyker blinked. “Didn’t know.”
Alex sighed, his dark mood lifting. “Where’s the old guy?”
“Which? There’s around eight in there,” Big Al said lazily. “Oh! The really old one is waiting for you in the bar.”
“Great. Thanks.” Alex walked past him onto a carpet that had to be two inches deep. He grimaced at the opulence of his surroundings. Tasteless artwork of his own family, other famous Imperials, and a few notable politicians decorated the bulkheads of the ship as he marched through it. He knew for a fact that they could be slid behind panels and new ones rotated to replace them.
The rugby player, in his thermoreflective clothing and dusty boots, couldn’t have looked less like the man waiting for him at the bar two decks up from the hatch. Where Alex was muscled and thick, the man in the Rogue Trader’s gilding and exotic purple cloak was thin and tall. Where Alex’s hair was a dark brown and straight, his father’s was dirty blond and wavy. Alex shaved his facial hair like it was a personal grudge, and his father had a luxurious, pointed beard.
Still, the resemblance did cover one thing: the voice. Alex and his father sounded so alike they were mistaken for each other on the vox, something that horrified Alex and delighted his father. Kimball-Carlin had made his fortune as a trader of pre-Crusade antiquities and treasures of artifice. Not weapons or technology, but trinkets and household goods. The O’Neill clock on Horus Lupercal’s desk was a purchase from Kimball-Carlin. He had sold ancient artifacts that had been nothing more than junk when they had been made to collectors across the breadth and span of the galaxy, turning his own father’s Writ of Trade into a trading empire.
Alex came to a halt at the bar. “Hello, Dad,” he said.
“Hello, Alex. Good to see you, kid,” Joseph said. “How’s your vacation been?”
“As of two days ago, awful,” Alex said coldly.
“Yeah? What happened?”
“My friend, Jake, got mauled in a bar fight,” Alex replied, glaring at the bar in which he they were standing.
Joseph cocked an eyebrow, his rough voice at odds with his appearance. “That a fact? That sucks. Is he gonna be alright?”
“Eventually.” Alex looked back at his father, trying to find the embers of resentment Big Al had tried to extinguish. He wondered bitterly if his father had had the psyker he knew Alex liked be the one to greet him on purpose. “What’s this I hear about generator problems on the Star?”
“We found some Diaspora-era animals in cryo-suspension and were hauling them to a Mechanicus facility on Gaviox for gene-sequencing,” Joseph explained. “One slipped its tank and tried to nest in the generator’s wiring.”
“Anyone hurt?” Alex asked.
“Just the critter.” Joseph sighed. “Kiddo, I can hear the resentment coming off of you.”
“Dad, I SPECIFICALLY asked you not to come find us while we were on the road trip!” Alex exploded. “And here you are!”
Joseph straightened up and glared up at his son. “I can’t help when my cargo attacks my ship’s wiring!”
“Dad…you could have just stayed in Clymene and asked me to come see you! But instead you came to the city you KNEW I was in, and called me to let me KNOW that you had, not even giving me a choice! For a change,” Alex added darkly.
Hey bro, I've been reading this on 1d4, been enjoying it like your other work. Hopefully it will be updated soon with your newer chapters because I don't wanna read this thread and be all confused if it skipped a few chapters ahead of the 1d4 page.

Also, where did you get the OP pic? A drawfag did that for you because it looks sweet.

The last word on the 1d4chan article is the word before this one in the thread. There's no continuity loss.

The pic was a request, by Muju.

There's a few small differences from the 'real' Venus of the story, in the eyes and leg length, mostly, but for a free request that took her a few hours to do it's incredibly fucking good.

Awesome, thanks.
Remilia looked over the small selection of formalwear in the shop they had chosen, impressed despite herself. Even the most remote of Nocturnean cities, it seemed, possessed master craftsmen. She ran her fingers along the sleeve of a formal blouse, doing some quick mental math. It was well within her budget. Venus waited outside, having already decided that her full formal uniform, sans the crown, would do for the formal dinner tonight. Jake stood nervously beside her. “Venus, I’m a bit worried about tonight,” he admitted.
“How come? Does your head hurt?” Venus asked.
“No, it’s just…what am I going to do? Everybody there is either going to ignore me or ask forgiveness of me the whole night,” Jake said. “And what will I wear? I don’t have anything more formal than a collared short-sleeve polo and cargo pants,” he pointed out. “Don’t get me wrong, I want to go, but I’ll stand out.”
“Well, the obsequiousness I can’t help with, but I can help with clothes,” Venus said.
Remilia emerged from the shop, shirt draped over her arm. “Let me,” she said.
“Pardon?” Jake asked.
“When we started out, we agreed I would cover your clothes, right?” Remilia pointed out. She passed him a credit card. “That’s a pre-paid. Get something nice and keep the change,” she said.
“Keep the…” Jake stared at the card. It was worth fifty thousand credits. His father didn’t earn fifty thousand credits in a year.
“It’s mostly spent, actually,” Remilia said, noting his expression. “Seriously, go get good clothes.”
“Thanks, Remilia,” Jake said, taken completely aback. “Really, this…well. I’ll…uh, I’ll see you both tonight, then?” he asked.
“If you want. See you at the dinner,” Venus said, pecking him on the cheek. “Bye,” she added. She and Remilia departed with the majority of the plainclothes unobtrusively drifting along with them.
Jake walked into the shop Remilia had used and started his browsing, selecting a deep gray jacket and black pants that looked a bit old-fashioned to his taste, but fit comfortably within the card’s lingering funds, and at least fitted him perfectly.
As he paid, his eyes went up as he saw the money left on the card. Five thousand credits cold. “Remilia, you’re making me blush,” he said under his breath. With a glance at the jeweler’s across the street, he decided that Venus would probably want to make any jewelry the two of them would wear, and slid the card into his pocket. Gathering his purchases, he trudged up the rampway to the castle, already wondering how he would explain the day’s activity to the governor. From what he had heard, he was the easily intimidated type.
Alex sat at the bar, clenching and unclenching his fist. His father remained standing. “Alex, that’s not fair.”
“How the hell is it unfair? You came here when I told you not to, and you waited to tell me you were already here so that I couldn’t ask you not to come. It’s plenty fair of me to call you on it.” Alex glared at the man.
“It’s not all right for me to want to know how you’re doing?” Joseph asked.
“Of course it is! It’s NOT okay for you to completely disregard my explicit instructions!” Alex slammed his hand on the marble bar. “Damn it, Dad, this isn’t even the first time! And what about Venus?!”
“What ABOUT Her Highness?” Joseph asked coldly.
“This is HER FUCKING PLANET! Did you even ask her if it was alright of you to borrow me for a day? Or whatever you’re here for?” Alex stood, fists clenched. “Is this about the dinner with the Governor tonight?”
“I was invited to dine with the Governor and over a hundred other planetary nobles and Salamander representatives,” Joseph said angrily. “I didn’t even know you were coming!”
“If I go into my room on this ship right now, will I find a formal uniform of the Carlin Trade Fleet?” Alex asked frigidly.
His father grimaced. “Yes, because you left it there after last time!”
“That was a year ago. I’m two sizes bigger now. Let’s see if it fits,” Alex said, stomping off to the cabin.
As soon as he walked in, he groaned. “Not even subtle,” he said, glaring at the uniform. He didn’t even have to put it on to know it was bigger than his old one.
The uniform was a gaudier version of the white formalwear Imperial Navy dress shirt, with purple stripes running from right hip to left shoulder across the chest and silver epaulets, with ceremonial miniaturized laspistols on both hips. The uniform was cinched with a black belt and gold-chased black boots.
Alex hated it.
“Alex, it’s not like I don’t get a say in this,” his father said coldly from behind him. “You’re my son. And whether you accept that it’s there or not, you have a responsibility to the family. You think Venus likes every part of her duty, since you brought her up?”
“You leave her out of this,” Alex warned his father. “This is YOUR fault, not Vulkan’s.”
“Alex, if you don’t want to attend the dinner tonight as a representative of the Carlin family, fine, I can deal with that, but the very least you could do is look presentable,” Joseph said, switching tracks. “Do you want to show up in front of your friends wearing that?” he asked, pointing at Alex’s thermo kit. “The dinner’s in two hours.”
Alex glared at his father, but he had been outmaneuvered, and he knew it. “Fine. Damn it. Get out so I can change,” he snarled.
Joseph withdrew, having obtained what he had been there to obtain. Alex pulled his clothes off, stepping into the little cabin’s steam shower to rinse off. “Arrogant bastard,” he muttered under his breath.
Remilia turned slowly in front of her mirror, checking to see how she looked. To her satisfaction, the blouse and formalwear pants she had selected – she hated dresses – were nicely matched, and covered her forearms neatly.
Jake stuck his head in. “Hey. Are you ready to head out?”
“Just about,” Remilia said, grabbing a small silver bracelet and affixing it. “What did you pick?”
“You tell me,” Jake joked, walking into her bedroom. The outfit would have looked a bit old in the gilded halls of Terra, but by Nocturnean standards, looked quite presentable indeed.
“You look very handsome,” Remilia said, pausing to admire the golden watch Venus had made, which Jake had decided to switch to the chain setting for the evening. “Nice touch.”
“Thanks. This seemed like as good a time as any to use it.” He glanced back into the halls. “Alex didn’t come back,” he said.
“He’s not picking up his vox, either,” Remilia noted with some concern. “I’m sure he’s fine, though, he had a platoon of guards with him.”
“Oh, sure,” Jake said, waving their concerns away. “Hey, you’re looking pretty sharp yourself. Is that the blouse you got today?”
“Yep, brought the pants from home.” Remilia had selected a dark theme herself, and aside from the bracelet, was wearing no jewelry or makeup.
“Are you the only one of your cousins who didn’t pierce their ears?” Jake asked.
“Hah! No, they’re pierced, I just never wear earrings,” she admitted.
“All right, I was just curious.” Jake tugged his collar a bit, adjusting his lemon-colored silk tie. “So, hey, do you know if there will be any Astartes there tonight?”
“Present company excepted, you mean?” Remilia asked coyly.
“A few. Several Techmarines and Apothecaries base their operations out of the city, but only the Chaplains and company-level officers really make an effort to be seen in public. Why?” she asked.
“No reason, really.” Jake sat down in the chair by the door and looked at her carefully. “Can I ask you something?”
“Do you really think of yourself as a Marine? No offense, but Freya and Venus think of themselves as Astartes through and through, but you never even mention the Fists, let alone Inwit.”
Remilia paused to give the question its due reflection. “I think that’s more a relic of something you’re all too familiar with. I’m comfortable with who and what I am.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Jake stood. “Well…voxes set to vibrate, nervous flutters suppressed, jewelry fastened securely…I think we’re both set to head out.”
She smiled at her friend. “Lead the way.”
Venus set the crown back in the box, deciding that she wouldn’t need it. She powered her weapons on to check their charge levels, and nodded in satisfaction when they both beeped full. Her cape brushed against the drake leather of her uniform pants as she leaned over. She had already decided to go for the full effect of her uniform, to give the occasion its proper due, but she wasn’t trying to make a political statement. The crown stayed.
She clasped her gloves to her belt and pulled her hands free, donning the bloodstone ring she had made. She started to snug it onto the ring finger of her hand and paused. She didn’t want to make that mistake again. She attached it to her index finger instead with a smile. Let people wonder if she had a digital weapon on.
Jake’s footsteps from the other room drew her attention. She straightened up and turned around, the cape swirling around her legs. Jake stood in the doorframe with Remilia and Freya behind him. “You know, every time I see you in that outfit, I find myself wondering if I’m supposed to take a knee,” he joked.
“What can I say? It’s growing on me,” Venus said. She slid one necklace on, and secured a second tiny gold chain between the clasps of the cape. It ticked against her breastplate. “Alex a no-show?”
“Won’t even pick up the vox,” Freya said. She was by far the least formally dressed, at first glance, but the nicely cut sky blue V-neck velvet shirt and jet-black formal pants she was wearing lent themselves capably to her enviable figure. Over the bare wedge of pale skin, she wore a silver necklace – a gift from Farah – invited gazes to look and linger on the dark blue sapphire in the middle.
“I’m sure he’s just off arguing with his father,” Venus said.
“What?” Freya jerked her head back. “What about his father? He’s not here.”
“Oh, yes he is,” Venus said. “His name was on the guest list for party that the governor sent me.”
“Aw, hell,” Freya muttered.
Jake shrugged. “I still don’t see the issue. He’s supposed to be a dickbag, sure, he won’t try to upstage you, will he?”
“Me? No chance. The Governor? Without even breaking a sweat,” Venus said coldly. She quite deliberately rested a hand on the hilt of her Power Rapier. “And the Governor’s going to be over the coals today anyway.”
Remilia cocked her head. She regarded her shorter cousin with caution. “Is that a fact?”
“This crime spree nearly broke me, and nearly killed Jake.” Her eyes flashed brilliant red, like drops of blood in sunlight. “No more. Forget Dad’s warnings, Sralah gets punished tonight.”
An inkling of how much the recent crimes had truly bothered Venus appeared in Jake’s mind as he watched his girlfriend holster her pistol. “Venus…you’re not going to kill the man, are you?”
Venus shook her head. Her unusual haircut swept over her armor. “I won’t need to. Just remind him that I can, without consequence, any time I want.” Her teeth glimmered in the red and yellow lights of the room. “He’ll find himself motivated after that, I’m sure.”
Alex stood in front of the mirror of his room on the shuttle and straightened his collar. The tiny guns he had abandoned, s mute act of defiance towards his father’s controlling side. The rest, though, he did wear, and he would try to look like he didn’t resent it.
“Appreciated or not, you pull it off, Alex,” his father said from the open hatch.
“I think so,” Alex said. He grabbed a bag from the closet, where he had several stashed, and stuffed his things into it, guns and their gunbelt included. He paused to extract the vox and its battery, sliding it into its place.
“Why aren’t you wearing the guns?” Joseph asked.
“Because people who carry guns without training are asking for trouble, and I don’t want to look like a pretentious asshole at a dinner with my girlfriend attending,” Alex said shortly. He turned the vox on and groaned to himself.
“Speaking of, how is Freya?” Joseph asked.
“She’s doing great, and apparently wondering where I am.” He groaned again. “What do I even say? Damn it,” he said, cutting his father’s suggestion off. “That was rhetorical.”
The vox buzzed. Alex answered it instantly, discreetly tapping the speakerphone button as he did. “Hello?”
“Alex! Where the hell are you? The dinner’s in fifteen minutes and we’re halfway there!” Freya’s voice said.
“I’m getting dressed, on Dad’s shuttle,” Alex said.
“WHAT? He is here? Oh for…didn’t you specifically say he shouldn’t show his face?” Freya demanded.
“Fucking…fine. Get over here, we can bail early if he’s his usual self,” Freya said coldly.
“Sounds good. See you there, baby. Bye,” Alex said, thumbing the vox off.
“‘Usual self?’” Joseph asked coldly.
“Yeah.” Alex picked up the bag and stuffed a few odds and ends into it from the drawers and closets of the room. “I forgot half of this shit was even here,” he muttered.
“What have you told her, exactly?” Joseph pressed.
Alex quirked an eyebrow. “What do you mean? What did I tell her to make her say that? Nothing, Dad, actions speak louder than words. After all, you totally got invited to this party before you arrived in-system,” he said, pushing past his father into the corridor.
Joseph grabbed his taller son’s shoulder. “Alex, I don’t know what Freya does or doesn’t think about me, but if I’ve taught you anything, it’s that you never talk about people behind their backs,” he said tightly.
“Dad, Freya’s met you before. Remember graduation? I sure do,” Alex shot back. He turned his back to his father and walked down the corridor and the stairs at the end.
Big Al was waiting at the hatch again. Alex wondered if he had even moved in the two hours he had been there. “Heeey, kiddo, you’re looking sharp,” the psyker said. He had somehow acquired a frilly drink, complete with straw and mango slice, since Alex had seem him, and was contentedly slurping away.
“Thanks, Big Al,” Alex said, pausing to chat with his favorite crewman of his father’s. “Big soiree tonight. Governors and Astartes and such. Think this is good?” he asked, displaying the clothes.
“Man, if you’re with the Space Marines, you gotta look like you’re in control of yourself,” the Astropath bemoaned. “You don’t even have a big hat on! That works for the Navy guys I met back in the day.”
“Okay, the hat I’ll give you, but how about the rest?” Alex pressed.
“Look like you stepped off a recruiting poster, kid, I should know, I fell for one once,” Big Al sighed.
“Back when you enlisted?” Alex asked, hefting the bag.
“Naw, naw, this was later.” Big Al took a long drag on his drink. “Best-looking girl I ever saw.”
Alex threw his head back and laughed. “I’ve missed you, Big Al.”
“Man, you’ll see me again, man, you go have fun,” Big Al said. “And say hi to that foxy redhead you’re with sometimes for me.”
“I sure will, my man, but never call her a fox to her face, or she’ll go feral on you,” Alex cautioned.
The diminutive psyker nodded slowly. “I don’t know that I’d mind, really, man,” he said.
Alex chuckled. “Careful, Big Al, she’s Leman Russ’ daughter.”
“Aw yeah? Good for you, kiddo, you’re in good shape,” the psyker said. “You go have dinner. I’m gonna finish this and check my messages.”
“You do that. See you later, Big Al,” Alex said, shaking his hand and grabbing his bag. He walked down the ramp, waving jauntily to the laid-back psyker. His father was already waiting in a gaudy groundcar at the foot of the ramp, and Alex scrambled in, dropping his bag in the foot well.
“You always did like Big Al,” Joseph said from the back.
Alex grinned from the front passenger seat. “How a man like him survived soul-stripping, I’ll never know. Love him, though, he’s a cool dude.”
Jake puffed out an uncomfortable breath. The back of the aircar was stiflingly hot.
“May I?” Venus asked. Jake blinked at her. “Your handkerchief,” she said. He glanced down at his breast pocket. She reached over and grabbed the kerchief, yanking it out and stuffing it into his side pocket. “Nobody does that in real life.”
“Damn it…see, this is why I was worried. I’m going to stand out, because I have no idea what the hell is going on,” Jake said.
“Jake, believe me, NOBODY in that room is going to know how Terran nobles act,” Venus assured him.
Jake grinned wryly. “So rather than set a bad impression, I’ll just set a low standard?”
“Exactly, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“Good.” Jake sighed as his mind drifted to the call with Alex. “So…do we try and keep Alex and his father separate?”
“Alex is a big boy, trust me, he can handle this himself,” Freya said coldly. “And, so we’re clear, I will handle it if he can’t.”
Jake nodded. “You bet, Freya, sorry.”
“No problem. But he’s scared of me, and he secretly wants Alex’s approval, and one plus one equals ‘he’s fucked.’” Freya offered up a confident grin as the aircar sank to the ground outside the Governor’s Estate mansion. “Have some trust in me.”
Don't stop on me now, I just made coffee to read the shit out of your story.
appreciated, but it's very, very late where I live. my canadian and new zealander confederates will keep the vigil until I can return to post George and Sandra's reactions to their son's maiming.
I'm back. Hopefully I still have some fans.


The day passed quickly after her surprise visitor had left. Lyra had done her chores, completed any remaining homework she had to do, cleaned herself and had picked her dress for the night. And there was still three hours till Felix showed up.
Lyra sat at her desk, staring at her room and wondering if she had missed anything. She was ahead of her planned schedule, and had plenty of time to kill before her date showed up. Her fingers tapped her wooden table repetitively, thinking of what she would do to pass the time. Normally, something would have gone wrong by now, but all was quiet, which made her feel strange.
Her fingers stopped as she eyed the bottom drawer of her table carefully. A part of her told her she shouldn’t but as the minutes went by she gave up on self restraint. Reaching down, she opened it slowly to not make any noise. Removing the trio of large text books that occupied its space, she stared at the empty container, calmly analyzing it before she reached down again.
“How did I do this again...” she whispered to herself, her fingers moving along the edge till she heard a click. “There we go.” The false bottom of the drawer popped upwards. She removed it and eyed the hidden wares with a smirk.
It had taken her some time to acquire, but the bottle of whiskey in front of her was well worth the money and time she had invested. The Tallarnian liquor was her favorite brand since she first began drinking some years ago, introduced to the special brand at a diplomatic party she had attended. She enjoyed in particular for its oaken taste and hint of spices the Tallarn love to use. The bottle was currently 13 years old, and had bright blue label covering it to symbolize it was assured of the highest quality.
Grabbing a glass from the drawer as well, she carefully made sure that the door to her room was locked and she wouldn’t be caught by her mother. Although her father cared little if she drank, her mother’s medical experience told her teenagers shouldn't be drinking so early. This did little to de-motivate her as she poured a healthy glass.
She stared at it for a moment, breathing in the heavy smell before she downed it in a single movement. The taste hit her hard as she felt the alcohol burn her insides, all the way down to her stomach. Lyra leaned back and relaxed, enjoying the warm feeling of the alcohol as it filled her chest. She carefully poured a second glass, this time to sip for the next while as she surveyed her room some more.
Her eyes came to rest on her watcher resting on a chair nearby, having not moved since he had arrived. Asleep as always, every day that went by made Lyra feel worse. For the first time, she wondered if this date with Felix was for him or for her. She sipped her drink as a sudden bit of doubt filling her mind about the entire thing.
Like her cousin, Victoria had also been busy since she had left Lyra. Asking her normal sources for any gossip on the jetbike incident, she found little talk about missing gold items with noble family markings. Whoever had it was keeping it a secret to themselves and out of the general gossip rings.
Fine by her, she enjoyed a challenge in her domain of expertise. Many of her special sources were indebted to her in one way or another. All it took was a call or two, reminding them of whom they are grateful for and asking them to start digging. It wouldn’t take long for her to be certain if there was any gossip or not. If there was, then it would be a simple matter of tracking down who has it and making sure Lyra got the information one way or another.
Otherwise, if there wasn’t any gossip on lost jewelry, then Felix would need to start explaining quite a bit. And to make him do that, she would need more information. Good thing she had already begun to collect information on him at the same time she started with the pin. Either way, she would get to the bottom of this no matter what happened.
A plan for every situation. She sat back and smiled, enjoying the perfection she was creating around her. It felt amazing for her, and she shivered in delight as it slowly started coming together.
A new message popped up on her computer and she stared at it for a moment before moving. Seems like there was more to this mystery than a simple date.
“Felix doesn’t have the pin. Why do you want it” she read out loud. The sender was anonymous, but she could still track down who sent it. “Time to get to work” she muttered as she leaned in and began to respond. Her fingers danced across the keyboard, tapping away a response as she began to figure out what was really going on.
Freya almost had a heart attack as her vox went off beside her. She glanced at it for a second, wondering who it was before returning to her current task. Although she trusted Alex to do his best as a spotter, at several hundred pounds of weight he would be able to do little if she managed to let the bar slip out of her fingers and fall on her. She eased the bar back upwards, grunting heavily as she slipped it back onto its rests with her boyfriend’s coordination.
Taking a deep breath, she sat up and reached for her vox which was still ringing furiously beside her. Taking a single look at the name, she instantly picked up and put the phone to her ear. “Hey Lyra, how’s it going?” she said, still a bit breathless from the exercise.
“Uh, nothing. Did I catch you at a bad time?” her cousin responded on the other side.
“No, Alex and I were just-” she began but was immediately cut off.
“Wait, Alex is there? Oh shit, you guys weren’t having sex, were you?”
Freya looked a bit surprised, but decided to play along with it. “Oh yeah, we were totally into it. I don’t think Alex wants to stop either. He is getting behind me and looking at me in a way that...”
Alex stared at her blankly, unsure of what she was referring to as she winked at him. On the other side, Lyra could only stutter and mumble incoherently, unsure of what to say. “Lyra, I was joking. We were working out. Just working out.”
“Maybe I should call back at another time.” Lyra sounded unsure of the entire situation, even a bit nervous it seemed. As well, something about her voice sounded strange to Freya’s enhanced hearing. She thought about it a second, wondering if she really did hear her slur or was it just her imagination.
“Lyra, what is it?” Freya asked, a bit more forcefully, knowing something was wrong and had an idea of what it was.
There was a pause before Lyra continued. “How are you?” Diplomatic as ever, Freya played along with her cousins way of doing things. She knew she wouldn't like politicians later in life.
“Fine. I was in the middle of a workout with Alex. I somehow managed to get my father to let him come over to help me train, even when I am grounded. What about you?”
“I have a date with Felix Severus” she proclaimed.
“I heard. You seem very happy with yourself.”
“I am trying to restrain myself,” Lyra admitted. “I’ve been trying to get his attention for a while now. Things turned out to be in my favor for once.”
“Oh I know you had a crush on him. Think most of us did.” She heard Lyra fidget, knowing full well that she never spoke of her crush, but was obvious to anyone who looked. Freya leaned back onto the bench, her back resting against the bar. She smiled at how Lyra was acting on the other end of the line. “So when’s the big date?” she asked.
“Tonight. I can’t wait. To be honest I feel very anxious about the entire thing.”
“I figured. Do you normally get drunk like this before going out?” Again, Lyra began to stutter before a legitimate response could be formed. Freya also heard the sound of glass nearby, knowing full well that she had taken another sip of whatever she was drinking.
“I am not drunk.” Another pause, to which she heard more of the glass moving. “Okay, maybe I am. How did you know?”
“You called me and immediately assumed I was having sex, began to slur and I can hear you moving your glass around. Remember, wolf ears?” There was silence on the line, and she had to check that Lyra hadn’t hung up in embarrassment. “Lyra?”
“To be fair, you did sound out of breath when you answered” Lyra muttered, defending herself just a bit. Freya chuckled at that, but got back on point with the conversation.
“Remilia told me what happened. So should I be worried as she is and freak out or let you have a good night?”
“I just want your opinion on the entire thing, that’s all.”
Freya took a moment before answering her. “I’m happy that you’re actually having fun after last week. But I have to admit that this is all a bit of a coincidence that he wants a date and happens to have what you are looking for. Just saying.”
She could hear Lyra tapping her glass repeatedly before talking once more. “You think he is using the situation to date me?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. We could be just paranoid about the entire thing, but I’d be careful. See if he has what he promised before you do anything alright?”
“Yeah... yeah that makes sense.” Freya slowly began to realized that this was not the cool and confident Lyra she knew quite well. She seemed to be doubting herself and was looking for Freya to help her along.
“You sure you okay with this date?”
Lyra chuckled on the other end. “It’s been a long week Freya. I just want something good to happen for once. And maybe this will be the first step in the road to recovery, you know?”
Freya nodded, her arms clenching as she felt blame for everything that happened. “Listen, if you need my ‘help’ tonight, I can come over, alright?”
She heard Lyra laugh a bit harder, showing the effects of the alcohol as it took a couple of seconds for the giggles to subside. “No, I think I can take care of a single Terran noble.” There was a bit a silence and some more movement of glass before Lyra responded. “Thanks Freya.I needed that. I’ll see you later.” Before Freya could get a word in Lyra hanged up. She sighed as she put the phone to the side, thinking of her cousin for a bit longer before Alex jumped in.
“If you want, I can get behind you and look at your fine-” he started with a smile, but she cut him off quickly, her face frowning from the discussion.
“Not unless you want my dad to chase you out with his chainsword. Now shut up and get back to your spotting position, I got three more sets to complete.”


I'm spent. I need to sit down and finish this fucking thing. hope you guys are enjoying it.
Don't think your stuff is neglected because we don't post about it, it stands up well to the others. keel it up!
Thanks, means a lot!
I have another scene, but it's proving difficult to finish.
You can find the story here
Darkmage is the least well known of the 'Holy Trinity', and i think he feels it. read it Anon, and tell him how good it is.
Keep up the good work guys, we'll keep this thread alive for the epic stories :D

and damn I need to reread this entire thread again LOL a single day of work and i got 10k words to go through. Not that I'm complaining :D
I wanted to post the next scene, but I am anked and tuckered out. Will try again tomorrow. Until, then, keep this alive Anons.
All right, I exist. I'll add stuff as it comes down the pipe.
I think you nailed the irritation between Alex and his dad really well. I know that feeling when you just want your parent to step the fuck off and leave you alone, but they aaaalways get in that jab that set the irritation-O'meter to max. To me it feels that Alex wants to just punch his dad in the face but holds back, because parents got that annoying habit of pulling and prodding and makes it look like your fault if you snap.
Spot on.
>and more and more often he’d found himself acting as chaperone to the other ‘royal consorts’, teaching them about etiquette and so on.
Has Oll featured in a previous story?
Thanks. And this is what I meant with
I want to know where the characters story start. No matter.

I have read through Trip into Hell now. I have a nitpick, but AA, you add capital letters everywhere where they are not supposed to be, like Lasgun instead of lasgun, Power Claw instead of power claw etc. Nothing major but it stands out.

That confrontation between Summer and Oll was good, it gives your story a spark to it. I hope more are revealed between the characters in his squad.
Chronologically, it's left nebulous, but it obviously have to be before the end of school.
And now I arise from slumber.

See here
Ah, thank you. I will delete my "bump"posts and other non-contributing posts.
Like so many writers, as I've developed him, his backstory has changed and expanded far beyond anything I could have imagined. I created him simply to fill a hole in the ‘Meeting Horus’ story, but he’s grown on me, and his story has expanded dramatically. Now instead of an outsider just arrived like the other consorts, he’s grown up alongside the Daughters, ever since he was six he’s been with them in virtually everything, so they all view him as the brother they never had, and even the colder and more spoilt ones have a soft spot for him.
His relationship with Isis is based on many facets of the British Monarchy, very formal with affection limited in public as both have a reputation to maintain. In private though…
George Seager listened to Vulkan describe the attack on Jake, torn between an alien rage and helpless fear. “Will he recover?” he asked tightly.
“Fully,” Vulkan assured him. He had invited the Seagers over to share the news he had received in his latest dispatch from Venus. “Fear not, Skarokk medicae are very, very good. He’ll be just fine. I suspect he’s up and about right now,” Vulkan added.
“Damn it all,” George muttered. Sandra was holding her hand over her mouth, sick to her stomach. “I thought he’d be at more risk from animals than from drunks,” he said darkly.
“He is, actually. And really, drunks are animals,” Vulkan noted. He leaned forward. “If it’s any consolation, the usual Nocturnean punishment for this sort of dishonorable attempted murder is ‘lock him up and make him watch you melt down the key,’” he said.
“Good,” George growled. “My son gets his head caved in on a road trip to his girlfriend’s homeworld…damn it all. And of course, now he gets to have the trip ruined by a trial,” he observed bitterly.
“What trial?” Vulkan asked.
Sandra blinked. “Won’t there be a trial?”
Misja shook her head. The two were sitting across from the Seagers in a conversation area in the greatroom of the Forgefather’s mansion. “Nocturnean law doesn’t require the accused to face the accuser, or the reverse. Jake can leave the charges standing and depart, whenever he wants. On the other hand, the standards of burden of proof are much higher, to prevent frivolous cases. I think a room full of witnesses, some of them Salamander serfs, is more than enough. Especially since he confessed.”
“Oh…well, that’s a relief,” Sandra said.
“It is.” Vulkan leaned forward, narrowing his eyes to prevent the Seagers from being blinded. “Sieur, Madam Seager, I owe you a distinct and genuine apology.”
“I don’t-” George started. Vulkan gently interrupted.
“George. Your son was nearly murdered by one of my citizens, in vengeance for a crime my Enforcers failed to prevent. It is my fault, however indirectly. To that end, I offer you my heartfelt apology, and offer my assurances that I will endeavor to make my world safe again. For my daughter, and for your son.”
“I…I understand.” George looked aside at his wife. Sandra nodded, pale but resolute. “We accept, of course.”
“Thank you.” Vulkan leaned back. “I asked my Regent, No’dan, for an update of the world’s status before I allowed my daughter and her friends to travel to Nocturne on this venture. He assured me that the crime rates were unusually high, but that no outstanding thread to Venus’ safety existed. I can only hope he included any threats to her boyfriend, cousins, and schoolmate in that assessment.”
“I think he would have…at least tried to be helpful,” George said awkwardly.
“No doubt.” Vulkan smiled at last. “In any event, I feel I must say: your son impresses me. Will to live after his mangling aside, Venus has never been happier than she is when discussing him.”
The next piece of the story is also banned by the wordfilter.

I'll link it on my 1d4chan profile.
And with that, he actually did get banned. He will be posting his material on his 1d4chan talk page.
Wut? For how many days and what for?
And I will read your stuff tomorrow DarkMage, I don't have the energy for it, late as it is where I live.
With Someone Else being banned, and none of the rest of us with enough material ready to go on, we have decided to let the thread slide. thank you all for reading, and we'll see you next time.
Is it this link
he will post his latest updates in?
Yes. Why they got him banned i don't know. 4chan can be stupid sometimes.
Thanks. Looking forward to the next thread, and tell DarkMage that I will post some feedback in the next thread.
Final message from the Writefags, anouncing that the next thread will be Saturday the Eleventh, sometime in the evening, EST.
My ban's expired, but I've been bothered four fucking times in the last day with 4chan's SHITTY wordfilters, so I've had quite enough.

Thanks for playing. See you in two weeks.

Again, our IRC channel is #writescribbles on Rizon.


Thanks for the readings, Three Musketeers, see you guys Friday after next.

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