#neocho

What an interesting question.

Kick me out of the Warp? Little Mortal, there are hundreds of insignificant godlings in the Warp: Neocho only one of them, no offense to him.

My Siblings can’t stop the Anathaema from crossing into the Warp. They can’t stop Bela’kor, that couldn’t stop the Eldar from regrowing their own little god of Death. They have no idea what to do with Vashtorr. Do you really think they would have any luck with me?

Believe me, if it were that simple, there would only be one of us long before your concept of time approaches the present, let alone M42.

There is, of course, the idea that gods can be slain, and if the Eldar are any indication, they certainly can be. It has also been an occasion for one god to devour another from time to time. Of course, this is to speak only of “gods” in the Warp. There are others, and I cannot speak for them.

The principle means of “removing” a god from the Warp is to starve him of the thing that empowers him or… as I have said above, to absorb his essence. But this is tricky. You’d think they’d have figured that out by now. But -something- keeps driving a wedge between them. Something…

In theory, the so called “Chaos Gods” should all be burning out and reforming naturally over time anyway. Wax, Wane: that’s the cycle. The problem is that the other four haven’t done this in ages. Best to encourage them, then.

Lovely question, Little Mortal. Assuming you mean other than my well stated fondness for black and white animals?

So, you types tend to depict me in a very large number of ways. Which is fair, and which is why I’m often described as “formless.” But most often, I seem to be seen as a three eyed wolf. Which must annoy Magnus to no end, given he chooses that form in his spirit questing journeys - though he is a ginger (or that’s what they say, can’t see color.) I believe very early references describe me as a dragon type thing.

If you are really into concept art, however, there were a large number of spider like things in some of the concept sketches for my daemons, so I suppose that’s a thing. More Atlach-Natcha’s deal, but I borrow it from time to time. I rather like spiders.

Khorne: WHO’S ASKING?

Me: It was just an interesting statement I saw directed at Absinthe, I think, via tumblr.

Khorne: WHAT DID THE STATEMENT CLAIM?

Me: That you only like trumpets and bagpipes. And maybe other military instruments.

Khorne: LIKE FIFE AND DRUM, BAZOOKIE, HURDY-GURDY. CISTRUM. CAMEL DRUM. THOSE PIPES HOPLITES PLAYED?

Me: I don’t think humans all remember their history further than about a century ago. But yes.

Khorne: RUDE! I LIKE OTHER MUSIC, TOO.

Me: Yeah?

Khorne: GUITAR, ACCOUSTIC AND ELECTRIC. MANDOLIN. LYRE. OOH! BANJO.

Me: You like the banjo?

Khorne: YES.

Me: It’s a very happy instrument.

Khorne: STEVE MARTIN TAUGHT ME TO PLAY.

Me: Eh?

Khorne: I WAS AN EXTRA ON ‘THREE AMIGOS’

Me: Oh yeah? What did you do?

Khorne: MARTIN SHORT’s STUNT DOUBLE.

Me: Wha...

Khorne: SO YES. ALSO COLDPLAY. I LIKE COLDPLAY.

Me: Wouldn’t have figured you for a Coldplay fan. Ego aside, Coldplay do have some lovely songs.

Khorne: DO YOU HAVE A FAVORITE BAND? LET’S SAY HUMAN, TWENTIETH-TWENTY FIRST CENTURY, POST SECOND WORLD WAR.

Me: That limits it.

Khorne: KEEPS SCOPE REASONABLE. YEAH?

Slaanesh: Frankie Goes to Hollywood!

Khorne: I WAS ASKING MALAL. BUT, SURE, INTRUDE ON OUR PRIVATE, BROTHERLY... CONSTANTINE VALDOR!

Nuffle: *shrieks*

Hashut: The Police. Bonus: Not a single waxed beard among them.

Me: Yeah. They’re good. Very, very good.

Neosho: I don’t believe in popular music. So, I’m still a fan of Englebert Humperdink. And Robert Goulet.

Me: Both were very popular in their time, and still are with some people.

Neosho: Then I shall have to find something else. William Shatner singing anything, perhaps.

Khorne: MALAL?

Me: Well, I li...

Nurgle: Phil Collins. Specifically “No Jacket Required.” Now there is a solid, rockin’ good time.

Me: Patton Oswalt has a joke about that.

Nurgle: Why? It’s classy stuff. All you need, kid. Just kick back in your easy chair with an ecto-cooler, some hydrox cookies...

Me: We are going to get you the help you need, grandfather.

Khorne: -MALAL?-

Nuffle: Hamilton, Joe, Frank, and Reynolds. Don’t pour your love out on me bab-beee!!!

Me: Constantine Valdor.

Nuffle: *yipes* NOO! KEEP BAD MAN AWAY!!!!

Me: As I was saying, I really have no favorite. Plenty of things I like. Many I dislike. I’ve destroyed cities because of bad music. Port Royale Jamaica? Invented the oompah sound. Had to go.

Tzeentch: I like a good spoken word over jazz mix.

Me: Good lords...

Tzeentch: *jazzy beat begins in the background* Sad man walkin... *snaps fingers* where does he go? He’s going to the ruins, zip zop zeep, of old Prosper-o. *snaps fingers* Pretty little redhead, tiss tiss. Married to Malal, tiss tiss. Boudicca’s a watchin. *snaps fingers* as them teardrops...

Me: *interrupts* STOP.

Gary: I like funk. Actually. Big fan of anything funky. And James Brown. Inspired it, you know.

Me: You know, he...

Khorne: *interrupts* WAIT. WHY DOES TZEENTCH GET A BACKING SECTION?

Oh. This is -delightful- anon....

Me: Brothers and Sisters, a message from the mundane. One of those “give me your honest opinions of XYZ.”

Nurgle: Oh, interesting! And what is it about?

Me: All of us.

Nurgle: Meh.

Me: Ahem, Khorne.

Khorne: YES?!

Me: “I would like you, but my ears don’t.”

Khorne: THANK YOU. WAIT... WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?

Me: I think perhaps your vol...

Khorne: I MEAN, DOES THE MORTAL THINK THAT I SMELL BAD? VALKIA LIKES THIS CREOSOTE COLOGNE.

Angron: NO, DAD. MORTALS DON’T USE THEIR EARS TO SMELL IN THIS DIMENSION.

Khorne: OH. YES. I FORGOT.

Angron: I THINK IT MEANS THAT YOU MIGHT BE TALKING TOO LOUDLY.

Khorne: AHH. I SUPPOSE MY VOICE DOES CARRY.

Hashut: Holy hell. My brain hurts.

Me: WHAT?!

Hashut: I said...

Me: Ahem. Grandfather.

Nurgle: Yes, monochrome grandson?

Me: “I want a refund for my nose.”

Nurgle: Well, I didn’t design it. That’s above my pay grade. Young whipper snappers today. With their fancy organs and protrusions and such. Why, when I was young.

Slaanesh: When you were young, Nurgle, every reality was dust in the eyes of The Creator.

Me: I believe, Grandfather, that the mortal is suggesting that you smell bad.

Nurgle: Nonsense. I smell of life. I smell of the very stuff of life and death. I have a masculine musk.

Tzeentch: You smell like someone vomited n a dirty diaper baked in a Subway restaurant oven.

Nurgle: It is a -very- masculine musk.

Me: Ahh. Slaanesh.

Slaanesh: Oooh!

Me: “Nice color scheme...”

Slaanesh: Thank you. I thought you couldn’t see color.

Me: I can’t. This is from the mortal.

Slaanesh: Ahh. Well, thank you, sweetie!

Me: They continue, “...Bad choice of daemons.”

Slaanesh: How so? Half naked sexpots with lobster claws for hands riding on ridiculously perilous mounts. Also, cow-sex-beast things, and all of them with whips.

Me: Your daemons, little sister, spend more time copulating than fighting.

Slaanesh: It’s a form of wrestling.

Nuffle: Hey! Did someone mention wrestling?!

Me: The mortal goes on to say, “also, keeper of secrets sound Tzeentchian.” I must say I agree. I’ve felt that way for a long time.

Tzeentch: Ian’s what, now?

Slaanesh: But I -adore- secrets. So juicy!

Nurgle: You should try keeping them.

Slaanesh: Well, what’s the fun in that? Not my fault the entire continent of Africa knows your search history.

Nurgle: That material was for research!

Me: Ahem. Which brings us to Tzeentch, my favorite.

Tzeentch: *obscene gesture*

Neocho: I don’t believe in favorites.

Me: Scratch that. Second favorite.

Tzeentch: Thank you? I think?

Me: “Your riddles are annoying, not hard, bro...”

Tzeentch: That’s because you’re not finished solving them.

Me: We all know you get many of your riddles from Reader’s Digest...

Tzeentch: Lies. All lies.

Me: “Get some philosophers.”

Tzeentch: I want to bring about the great scheme, not spend a thousand years debating the fundamental question of what a question is. Also, I have philosophers. Who do you think made Nietszche?

Me: -I- did.

Tzeentch: Well, who made Hippocrates?!

Nurgle: I did.

Tzeentch: Plato?!

Slaanesh: *raises hand*

Tzeentch: Thales?!!

Nuffle: *raises hand*

Tzeentch: Xenophon?

Khorne: ME.

Tzeentch: I hate you all.

Me: You get Socrates.

Tzeentch: Meh.

Me: It continues, “And your bird fetish is showing.”

Tzeentch: Fetish. Really. How rude.

Slaanesh: Some fetishes are unhealthy, big brother.

Tzeentch: Says the person who made BDSM Cows.

Slaanesh: CONSENTING Bovines.

Tzeentch: Sigvald the Magnificent.

Slaanesh: Look, whatever a consenting... Nevermind. Withdrawn.

Tzeentch: The Ancient Egyptians associated the gods of wisdom and magic, Thoth being the most relevant, with birds. I like the look. It’s funky fresh.

Me: Isn’t the entire point of change that your form is unpredictable?

Tzeentch: It’s new, it’s hip, it’s the latest thing!

Me: By twenty first century earth standards, it is...

Tzeentch: I HAVE SPOKEN!

Hashut: *grabs letter* “Malal...”

Me: Yes?

Hashut: “Such mysterious, very malice, much unknown, wow...”

Me: Aww. Thank you, Anonymous Mortal.

Slaanesh: Did you write that yourself?

Me: No.

Slaanesh: Are you sure?

Khorne: THE SMUG BASTARD DOESN’T LIE.

Hashut: It goes on. “Are the Alpha Legion your boys, or...?”

Me: Alpharius is -such- an ass.

Nurgle: Doesn’t answer the question.

Me: I cannot lie.

Hashut: And...?

Me: That would be telling.

Hashut: That’s a shifty way to avoid answering the question.

Me: It is. But it is honest.

Khorne: YOU ARE -LITERALLY- THE WORST PERSON I KNOW.

Nuffle: What does the mortal say about me?!

That, dear ones, is a rather difficult conundrum absent context, though it is a fair question.

Making a deal with Fulgrim? Perhaps you simply want to distract him?

Having an orgy planet helps... but you probably don’t have access to that. And I’m not making some oblique reference to a corner of the dark web.

So what to do?

Give him something that makes him extremely happy. Extrarordinarily. This is not so easy. At dinner, Boudicca suggested, and I paraphrase here, that one might be able to buy him off or distract him with a battleship full of marital aids.

The problem with that, of course, is that Fulgrim has literally been there and done that. No, honestly. Think of that thing - that dirty, secret thing that really gets you going, as you mortals say; Fulgrim has done it. Plus sixteen thousand plus variations thereupon. He is a superhuman, and thus has superhuman appetites. Give him an inch, and he will absolutely not demand the mile, because he’s already had it, and now he’s just bored...

The trick - and it isn’t really a trick in the malicious sense (and I -fucking know- malicious, don’t I?) is to find something he hasn’t done, some thrill he hasn’t experienced. An exotic drug, a truly rare piece of art, a crate of something so lascivious that even most Slaanesh worshippers would say “that is a step too far for me. I’m out.” That is difficult, but not impossible.

The weakness of all my little sister’s followers is an extreme demand for sensation - a desire for sensory overload so acute that it blinds them to many things. Use that against them, against him, and you will very likely find what you need to motivate him, for your good or the greater good, at least for a time. Anathaema knows he can’t control himself when something new and intriguing arises. And remember: no matter what Fulgrim might say, he isn’t a god. Few of his kind have achieved that. Very few. And he is most certainly not among them. He wouldn’t care for it anyway: too much responsibility. Slaanesh barely gets by, and she was quite literally made for the job.

That said? I asked my brothers and sisters, Anon. I thought perhaps their responses might please you.

Me: Okay. Another mortal seeking wisdom. And they ask “What is the correct way to deal with Fulgrim?”

Tzeentch: Did you already answer with some boring, logical, infuriatingly superior answer, brother dear?

Me: I did. I am sure they would appreciate the insight. Of some of you anyway.

Nuffle: Aww, he isn’t that bad. Just find an activity you can do together. For example, he’s suggested we wrestle next time we cross paths. That sounds wonderful! A sport Fulgrim and I can enjoy together.

Slaanesh: I honestly have conflicted emotions about how to respond to that.

Me: It’s a challenging question, yes. And he -is- one of yours.

Slaanesh: I am referring to what Nuffle just said.

Me: Ahh. Yes. Quite.

Khorne: SHOOT HIM OUT OF A CANNON.

Me: That’s a good one. Don’t think he’s tried it before.

Khorne: I HAVE. WHERE DO YOU THINK HE WAS FOR SO LONG? THE TRICK IS TO SELECT A GOOD TARGET.

Me: Where’d you send him?

Archaon: *materializes* I assure you, my lord, that this is a question best left unanswered. All I know is that it got us Chaos Halflings.

Tzeentch: Good grief!

Nurgle: Challenge him to collect and catalogue an entirely new sexually transmitted disease. Or, perhaps, playing on his non-sexual proclivities, ask him to develop a new bio weapon. One unlike anything the galaxy has ever seen.

Me: That could be useful.

Nurgle: *smirks* How do you think we got Chaos Halflings?

Me: For which?

Nurgle: ...Exactly..

Archaon: *sighs*

Tzeentch: Give him a jigsaw puzzle. No, before you go saying something snotty, Malal, I do honestly mean it. Conceal within that puzzle an incredibly beautiful work of art. One he has never seen. And make it fiendishly complex. So complex only decades of work can solve it. Even for someone like him.

Me: And I assume you hide one of the pieces, yes?

Tzeentch: I hadn’t thought of that. That is positively malicious.

Me: As I said...

Hashut: Send him in search of the Chaos Squats.

Neocho: I don’t believe in dealing with Fulgrim. Seriously. The guy is an ass.

Slaanesh: He has been. Literally. Both the animal and the posterior. Got bored of it pretty quickly in both cases.

Perturabo: May I make a suggestion, my lords?

Me: Of course.

Perturabo: I concur with Lord Malice regarding the approach, but I conjecture that it would be equally of utility to find something he -failed- to do properly. Do you think I have an ego? I’m absolutely amateur compared to him. Find his worst mistakes. Assail him with them.

Me: I knew there was a reason I keep you around, Angry Greek Stereotype.

Perturabo: I live to serve, milord.

..

Me: Which one?

Nurgle: Sigmar’s homeworld. The one that is absolutely not Middle Earth redrawn.

Me: Ahh! I see.

Khorne: I ALWAYS LIKED THE NORSCANS.

Me: Shocking.

Khorne: WAR MAMMOTHS.

Me: Okay, yes. Those absolutely are awesome.

Nuffle: I like Stormcast!

Nurgle: Those aren’t an Old World Faction.

Tzeentch: On balance, I must say that the eternal infighting within The Empire of Man truly did the heavy lifting for me. Making the most competent candidate for the throne a vampire? That was inspired.

Khorne: I DO NOT THINK YOU DID THAT, TZEE..

Tzeentch: *interrupts* I HAVE SPOKEN!

Nuffle: I mean, the Ossiarchs are interesting. Too bad about the link to Meany Pants.

Me: Do you mean Nagash?

Nuffle: Yeah. Tall guy. Big head.

Nurgle: Ossiarchs: also not a thing in the Old World.

Slaanesh: Bretonnia. Loved Bretonnia. So many gorgeous women cavorting in ponds. So many handsome men in tight pants.

Me: The codpiece was your idea, wasn’t it?

Slaanesh: Oooh yes.

Hashut: I really liked the Lizardmen of old.

Tzeentch: WHAT?!

Hashut: Honestly just kidding. What did you THINK I was going to say?

Neocho: I don’t believe in fantasy worlds.

Me: And yet here you are. A god. With access to any reality you wish.

Neocho: No. I don’t believe in that.

Me: You quite literally are astral projecting at this very moment.

Neocho: Nonsense. Impossible. Also? I rode over with Nuffle in his cat detector van.

Me: Good grief.

Nuffle: Ultramarines. Love their colors. The Roman theme is cool, too.

Me: Not even in the same time period, let alone the Old World.

Nurgle: I mean, there -are-links...

Me: We don’t talk about the links.

Hashut: And you, Nurgle?

Nurgle: I must say I admired the Pygmies. It’s a real shame the humans have only seen the racist stereotypes made for that miniatures game.

Me: Generslly speaking, in terms of utility, I would have to align myself with Vlad Von Carstein.

Nurgle: Yes, utility. Always utility. Isn’t there someone you genuinely liked?

Me: Malice? Liking something beyond his own followers?

Khorne: WE KNOW YOU GOT ON WITH CURZE AND HORUS. AND BOSTON TERRIERS. AND BOUDICCA.

Me: Yes, yes. But entire civilizations? Fine? Honestly, despite the fact I hate both excessive facial hair and slavery, I had some sympathy for the Chaos Dwarves. Dwarves, in general, are awful, awful people.

Hashut: True that.

Nuffle: Silver Skulls?

Nurgle: Also Space Marines. Also a different setting.

Me: *continues* And it’s true I have a fondness for Halflings. The only people in all of the Old World never to oppress or enslave anyone.

Khorne: NOT EXACTLY WORLD BURNERS.

Me: This time they weren’t, no.

Gary: I sort of admired the people of Khemri. I mean, they beat the ever living hell out of my people, -but-.

Me: Settra was, is, a man to be admired. Never cowed, never broken. Too bad about Nagash.

Khorne: NAGASH IS AN ARSE.

Nurgle: Agreed. Can we work out a way to completely screw him over, this time round?

Tzeentch: I’m in.

Khorne: RIGHTO!

Me: Absolutely.

Gary: Sure. Why not?

Slaanesh: He’s a total party pooper. Agreed. Though I am a bit... restrained in that reality. And not in a good way.

Neocho: I don’t believe in revenge.

KHORNE Flakes... HAH!

But seriously, I enjoy a good frosted shredded wheat with Oat Milk. Weetabix can also be lovely. Your favorite Chaos God (who definitely does not exist) is allergic to milk -and- lactose intolerant, and as such, oatmilk is my preferred cereal medium. As for the others...

Khorne: CRUNCHY STARS

Me: The Muppet breakfast cereal?

Khorne: YES. I LOVE THAT THE BOX HAS THE SWEDISH CHEF ON IT.

Me: It’s out of production, isn’t it?

Khorne: WHEN DID TIME MATTER TO US?

Me: Point well made, big brother.

Tzeentch: Frosted Lucky Charms....

Me: Yeah, yeah, they’re magically delicious, right?

Tzeentch: I like that they are crunchy and yet so sweet that they make your teeth hurt.

Angron: I LIKE THAT CEREAL THAT CUTS THE ROOF OF YOUR MOUTH.

Me: ‘Oh’s’?

Angron: THAT’S THE ONE.

Nuffle: Hee hee! I bet I know Konrad’s favorite..

Ghost of Kurze: SAY Count Chocula, mother fucker. I dare you!

Nuffle: *whimpers*

Nurgle: I like oatmeal. Good for the fight against DIABEETUS.

Me: You couldn’t resist that joke, could you?

Nurgle: Not really, no. But seriously, I do like it. Especially with raisins.

Ghost of Kurze: Eew! That’s disgusting!

Nurgle: Exactly.

Slaanesh: I like ‘Special K’

Me: The cereal marketed to a omen?

Slaanesh: Wait. We’re talking about cereal?

Hashut: Do they make a spicy cereal? Like a Habanero Frosted something or another.

Neocho: Fruit Brute. I don’t believe in good cereals.

Magnus: No, clearly Yummy Mummy is the best in that line.

Me: I’m going to have to stay neutral. The only one I can stomach is the... the one that isn’t Konrad’s favorite.

Ghost of Kurze: Thank you, milord. And for the record, I like Cocoa Pebbles or Cocoa Krispies.

Mortarion: Soggy Fruit Loops.

Khorne: EEEW!

Alpharius: Wheaties. I’m always on the box.

Lorgar: Gruel, moistened with water. Or any bagged cereal you get at an outlet store or pound land, because...

Fulgrim: Ooh! Pound Land?!

Lorgar: It’s not that kind of...

Hashut: Isn’t that down the road from ‘The Fellow Ship’ or ‘The Tool Box?

Lorgar: No, no. Look, it’s a low price chain...

Slaanesh: I hope they also sell high priced chains. You really can’t put a price on quality restraints.

Ermm.. And on that note, I thank you for your question, little mortal!

Thousands. On the other hand, when some of them claim titles to things such as ‘God of Socks Lost in The Dryer,’ one can reasonably question that rather lofty assertion.

It is, however, true, that if enough sapient beings believe that a thing is true long enough, that thing manifests in The Warp. We are the dark reflections of those things. (Those of us who exist.)

Keeping in mind that yours truly does not exist, I think it is fair to say that there are five or six “Major” Chaos Gods. The (mostly) human cultists who run that delightfully fractious enterprise, Games Workshop, seem to agree.

There are, first of all, the “big four” - Khorne, Nurgle, Slaanesh, and Tzeentch.

In one specific, erm, “bubble” of reality, the minor Skaven (and Hrud.. shh, don’t tell anyone) entity known as “The Horned Rat” as supplanted my little brother/sister Slaanesh. We prefer to call him “Gary.” Otherwise, Gary is mostly small, warpstone infused potatoes.

Then there is Yours Truly, of course remembering that I do not exist. Sometimes they call me Malice over in Nottingham. I go by many other names. My dear old friend HP Lovecraft really enjoyed playing with them, especially once I beat tolerance into him...

Either way, same totally non extant deity. Am I hypothetically one of the major Chaos Gods? Depends upon who you talk to.

Then there is Nuffle, Dark God of Sports and Dice. He owes me a good twenty quid and a bag of souls (Cool Ranch flavor, please) for mentioning him.

We also have Hashut. God of the Chaos Dwarves and at least some of the Chaos Squats, erm, Demiurg, erm, Squats again. Nice person. Khorne hates them. But I always invite Hashut over for game nights at my place. We have a good rapport.

I’d mention Neocho and his.... unmentionable twin. But I don’t believe in them.