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For @ossmodula weekend challenge!!! I'm plotting, but wanted to go ahead n post this
(Tag list @ego-sum-imperator @moj-cien @jaghatai-khock)
Takes place in 30k btw
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The Night Lord's retinal display flickered again - it had been threatening to give out for a while, jittering data and conflicting command clarifications. Doing another visual sweep, out of habit, a rune blinks in, weak, indicating two Astartes life signatures.
With aimless abandon, he begins stalking towards them.
-
A Salamander lays on the ground, a scout crouched next to him clutching a bolter close. The Scout's look of relief morphed to a one of weary apprehension, grip on his bolter becoming more tactical - dust must have cleared enough for him to see the armor of their would be savior.
The Night Lord calls out as he approaches, "You should start moving - a *second* wave is coming. Or so I hear. I - *suggest* you grab what armor may fit from the dead and head for the randevu."
The young Salamander bristles, tone even, "he isn't dead."
The Night Lord raises a brow, concealed by his face plate. Glancing over to study the fallen marine up close, he sees the miniscule tilt of the head, twitch of the fingers - *he's trying to look at me*, the realization comes with a slow smile, *impressive.*
Brushing past the Scout and his protests, he crouches down next to the Salamander. Surveying the damage, it doesn't look good. The Armor systems look to be almost completely dead - a rare malfunction, but given the debris on him, it makes sense. He reaches out and raps on the other marine's face plate.
"Can you speak?"
“No,” a faint response devoid of Vox static.
“Good, I hate - whining.”
Warm, strained laughter spilled through the mouth grill and the night lord began looking for a grip on the verdant armor.
◇
They began their trek through the wastelands, the Night Lord leading the way, dragging the bulk of the Salamander sergeant, the drake hatchling following several steps behind. The Night Lord could feel the little cousin glaring at him.
"I am surprised you stopped to help,” the Salamander spoke up, tone conversational despite the circumstances.
The Night Lord grunted, "I am not, heartless."
“I did not mean to imply-”
The Night Lord cuts him off with a laugh. “You do not need to say as many words. Your little hatchling's - shock, and awe at my...generosity was enough. And beyond that - I am not blind to my legion’s…reputation.”
A long silence stretches between them then.
“You're helping to prove a point then?”
The Night Lord shrugs, and takes the opportunity to adjust his grip, switching his hold on the Salamander's armor to the other hand. His armor to the brunt of the weight but his arms still ached.
“My claw started…dying, yesterday. The last - lost today. Perhaps, I am - sentimental. Or delirious from losing all that - blood, I'm dragging you through. Ha.”
“Perhaps,” Ignis’ voice is contemplative.
There's another pause, then, “What is your name, brother?”
A thin grin curls the Night Lord’s lips at the term, “You shouldn't ask that, name something and you get - attached to it.”
“And should I be careful about getting attached?”
The Night Lord assessed the numb feeling in his fingers, and the taste of too many combat stim injections on the back of this tongue.
"Best - not."
◇
The dropsite camp feels heavy with loss as he stumbles within shouting distance. It's the Scout that raises the alarm of the arrival, now sprinting ahead.
The Salamander sighs, audible even throughthe face plate, relief coloring his words, "thank you."
The Night Lord him unceremoniously - they're close enough, and he has his own camp to find.
"I appreciate your aid."
Ah, that rune had been flashing for a while. He blink clicked it away and oh - that's - a lot of pain. The Night Lord reels for a moment.
"Before you go, I wanted to apologize - are you alright?"
The world grays out before his knees buckle, the last thing he hears is a shout of his rank.
Welcome to my second week of OCs Friday where we take our OCs and give away three fun facts about them.
Last week was Cassia's turn. And this week, we'll look at
Vallabha from my Cato Sicarius story Undae ab praeteritorum (Phew... that's a mouthful!)
Her name "Vallabha" means "Beloved" in Sanskrit. (づ ̄ ³ ̄)づ
Cato Sicarius has not been the same since learning this.
The culture of her homeworld of Indus is based on Medieval South India (think the Cholas, the Hoysalas, the Cheras and so on).
She speaks fluent Low Gothic, Indic (my own take on a mix of different Indian languages), and can understand High Gothic (her pronunciation is horrible, if Cato is to be believed.)
He thinks this is the Emperor's punishment for how he made fun of his Iaxian battle brothers' High Gothic all those years ago.
Tagging: @bunny-fair @gravedwe11er
Let me know if you want to be tagged! It'll be fun reading about all your OCs!!
I’ve been thinking of doing something called OC Fridays where I post an OC and yap about them.
Anyhow this is my Muppet OC Sarah-Kit Baker! She’s a robot. Her role on The Muppet Show would be dancing. Tap dancing specifically. She was created by Bunsen and Beaker to help around the lab. Unfortunately for them she was created using parts from a Chuck E Cheese-esque animatronic so she’s an entertainer. Her first name is supposed to sound like “circuit” and her last name is supposed to sound like “breaker” Circuit Breaker. She’s energetic and sweet but can be distractible and inattentive. She also likes to stick her fingers into electrical sockets because the shock makes her giggle.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
My Twilight Cleric of Mielikki, Friday Faelaris, is now a lieutenant guild master and she decided to get a "professional" wardrobe. She's a little confused but she's got the spirit and the sparkle
“There's a lot about my- about Sero that I don’t really know. He doesn’t make it easy either,” he sighed, “The reason I say he doesn’t do confinement well is because I had never seen him so- well broken. I can’t describe it in any other way. He spent to whole time lying on his side, facing the wall. He was just mumbling incoherently. I think he’d been like it for a few days at least.”
“Could he move?” Sydari tilted her head, “I’ve seen those guards shatter limbs.”
“Oh, they tried I’m sure,” Adren stated, “They’d only managed to fracture his arm. Not saying that he wasn’t in a bad way, he was. They’d pulled his nails out from the root and notched his ear by that point.”
“He’d still have trouble moving if-” Sydari interjected before Omani continued his sentence.
“It’s a little more than that. Sero’s not one for complete silence. There was a look in that mer’s eye that I hadn’t seen before,” Adren frowned, “Sedura, have you ever seen that look when someone’s just resigned themselves to their fate?”
Adren Omani on visiting his sperm donor.
I've been writing a lot of Serious Mistakes recently so I've been drawing a lot of 4E Josh as a result. In this case, 4E 175... the guy's old, he's been around. Apparently that involves Windhelm's Bloodworks where he stayed long enough to have his ear notched.
At Gotham Coffee.
Jason: Can I get a large iced coffee?
Leia, four years old: Can I get a cookie?
Jason: We have cookies at home sweetie.
Leia: We have coffee at home.
Jason: ...
Jason: Chocolate chip or sugar?
Leia: Sugar.
Jason, to cashier: And a sugar cookie please.
