Tiny Hammer
In this article, all the forces of the 41st Millennium descend onto modern-day Earth. Except they are only as large as their miniatures depict them to be. SPESS MAHRENES are an inch tall, Monoliths barely come up to your ankle, and Imperator Titans are the size of a van.
It's a pretty popular setting for fa/tg/uys.
Examples
So my Tech-priests got out of their box and to my computer again last night. I found them in the morning, a dozen Techmarines and Enginseers and their Servitors jumping up and down on the keyboard and using a Dreadnought to operate the mouse.
We had to speak at length about Wikipedia. They were convinced that nothing told to them by the Great Machine could be so fallacious. Oh, and they got into my porn file and demanded to know why there was so much information on human procreation when schematics could be kept in the same space.
Also, I've finally had it and will be taking my Dark Eldar to the sex shop. Again. The first time I was kinda drunk and they insisted (they had been begging for days and threatening to order more pay-per-view). It's not like I've got some moral opposition, but, jeez, ever see an inch-and-a-half tall Wych trying to operate a thirteen inch-long vibrating dildo? It's...disturbing.
Oh, and they're ALL fighting over control of the TV. Literally. The Tau only want Discovery Channel, the Space Marines and Sisters want the religious networks, the Orks want Spike on, and the Eldar all want me to put on Lifetime. Except for Eldrad, who I haven't seen in days, but made a collect call and just said "Channel 4, Tuesday news at noon." I'm a little afraid to turn it on.
Doomrider found my stash. Which was just weed and two hits of acid. But given his current size and the fact that he smoked all of it and rolled around on the LSD he's driving up the wall. Literally.
Also, Privateer Press just made their big press release. It was simply "Well, fuck." I think the wargames industry might take a bigger hit.
For some reason the Tyranids have been watching Nickelodeon. I can't even begin to explain why. We've set up a sort of truce around the TV. Everyone gets one hour except when I want to watch something. Then the Orks inform everyone else "DAT GORK WANTS TA WATCH 'IZ UMIE SHOWS." Which would be less weird if I didn't watch so much election coverage. The Imperium is having a hard time understanding why we aren't purging the heresy of those trying to usurp our planetary governorship.
One of my friends brought over his Rogue Trader today. Which would have been okay, seeing his ship was pretty cool (it was about as big as my car) but the rat bastard tried to sell me my own tree. I have a single tree in my front yard and I had to pay fifty bucks to buy it back from him. Damn.
I'm trying not to be too loud while I type this. The Necrons are sleeping. I had to bathe the Nurglings today. The stench was just too much. God, it was horrible. Most of them came apart in the sink. I...I don't want to think about that anymore.
Apparently an Eversor got into my book bag. In the middle of a U.S. Foreign Policy lecture he made this very clear. I'm sure everyone's had a cell phone go off in class? Sucks right, even if the professor's cool, you still feel like a douche. Ever have a tiny, clawed lunatic scream "WRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY" and run across the desk shredding everyone's notes?
But the Eldar have predicted next week's lotto results. Which would be great, but Eldrad insisted that I shouldn't get a ticket with numbers but instead ask for "L-O-L-D-O-N-G". And I'm pretty sure there are no letters in the lotto balls.
I need to be careful with my weedwhacker now. Before it was just rocks, dog turds, and the occasional bees' nest. Now it's Catachans, Kroot, Tyranids, and Orks that don't like it indoors. You don't know what a bug bite is until you've been peppered with fleshborers.
The Orks caught a garter snake, then let it go when they found out it wasn't venomous. I thought they were going to eat it...then the Kroot and Catachans caught it and ate it...raw. It wouldn't have been disturbing if it was just the Kroot (or the 'nids), but the Catachans had their snake sashimi-style, too. I'm going to pick up some vinegar so they can at least cure the meat first. I wish my cat hadn't killed all the shrews. One of those would go through EVERYTHING living in my yard in a couple of days, I'd bet.
Speaking of my cat, Jones, he's been acting strangely...
The Thin Fa/tg/uy
This is a direct rip from the downloadable copy found here: http://rapidshare.com/files/144055315/minisaga.rtf (file is open-able in Open Office)
First off, I'd like to say thank you for wanting to download this. You all were ultra cool during the writing of this, and it's nice to be able to feel blah blah blah. Here are the three Minihammer stories that I wrote, the two joke ones, and the one "serious" one. All star the same nameless main character. So, uh, enjoy?
I rubbed my hand over my face and put my feet down on the floor, only to feel something go squish under them. That's not the way that a person wants to wake up. Glancing at the underside of my foot, I quickly decided that not only was it impossible to figure what I'd just killed, but I wasn't entirely sure that I wanted to know. Maybe later. Maybe once I'd gotten human again.
Of course, since these things all ended up at my house, it's been a little more difficult to do that than ever. I positively glowered at the shower. "Hey! You little fucks! What the hell have I told you about screwing on the soap!" I don't know what they are, and I don't care. I don't want alien jizz on my soap, no matter how little the creature is.
I marched back out and began the hunt. I don't know what they're called (my friend, Dave, he knows and has told me a hundred times, but it keeps slipping my mind) but those little guys in armor, with the swords and all the whack about some sort of god-ruler thingy? I found a bunch of them on the kitchen table. Despite their protests and their curses, I snatched all four of them up and carried them back in with me.
"Permission granted to kill these two xenos." I didn't have to say it twice. We had an agreement - they thought they'd gone through some sort of time/space wormhole, shrinking them and sending them back in time. They were putting up with me only until their god guy came into power or something, but until then, I was in charge. Whatever. Either way, they literally leaped out of my hand and went to town. I looked away. Nobody wants to watch that.
Just as much as somebody wants to watch an inch tall figure stroll past the doorway, dragging a much larger rat behind it. It was yelling something about a blood god. A different god, I'd learned. But it was streaking blood all across the carpet. Good pest control, those guys. Hell on the cleaning bill, though.
Fuck coffee. I don't even want to think about what those one things did to the kitchen while I was sleeping. Probably ate everything. AGAIN. Good on garbage disposal, but...
Computer. Play some Team Fortress or something. Blow some steam before I start dumping these guys in the garbage disposal again. Wiping off the last of the grunge off my feet, I tossed the tissue to one of those red praying-mantis-looking thingies to eat before reaching to turn on my computer. Only to find that the guys with the hard-on for tech had it open again.
"What are you doing?" I asked in a harsher voice than intended.
One stepped forward. "The holy electron flow-"
Fuck. I knew where this was going. I cut him off quickly. "Like you'd tell one of the other guys."
He seemed disappointed. Screw him. "We are...upgrading your RAM?"
I closed my eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and looked back up. I don't know how they got up there, but the white-haired chicks were dragging me a cup of coffee. They're nice. Religious nutbags who I'm always being careful what I say around, but nice. I was completely distracted until one of the green guys poked my arm.
"Me an' da boyz wanna ride again, boz."
"Later," I grumbled softly. They loved riding in my car, but had spent the last two days painting it red. To make it go faster. Their version of logic made my head hurt, but them and those freaky armored dudes love riding with me, even more so when I turn the music all the way up.
It was at this point in time that I felt something in my sweatpants. I've gotten used to this enough that I virtually ripped them off. There was one of the blue things, with one normal arm and one that's kinda like a blade, and she was...you know...trying to go at my junk.
And that's when I started screaming, officer...
It's been a couple of weeks since the cops came over me freaking out. Things have...calmed down a bit. Not with them, mind you. They're just as freaky as ever. Just...I've adjusted more.
We've kind of fallen into a routine. I get home from work, and the noseless guys instantly let me have the TV in the living room. They're pretty easy to keep happy. Anime, Zone of Enders, and the sequel on the PS2, and just let them do their thing. They're fairly harmless when left to themselves, and they're really accommodating of me. When I get angry at everybody else, they try and calm me down. I'm starting to adopt them as my favorites.
The white-haired chicks, they cook me dinner. Hand-cook me dinner. Seriously, they've got these flamer things, and...I don't know, to be honest. They seem so militant and pious at times, but at the same time they're kinda nice to me. They've almost gotten to the point where they can cook a steak that isn't well done, too.
After I watch an episode or two of the old Batman animated series (the good one), I'm always surprised to find the little human-like dudes sitting next to me and the noseless aliens. Not the humans with bulky armor and swords, but the trooper dudes. Their boss-guys mutter under their breath about heresy, but let them get away with it for the most part, so long as they don't start talking with the noseless ones.
Anyway, after dinner and the Batman episode, I put the green guys and some of the humans in the car, along with some of their equipment, and we head to the park for a bit. To the green guys (Orks, I guess) it's a trip, because we seem to be going so fast to them. The militant dudes, they're just looking forwards to practice. I have a "no-fly zone" rule in the house, so this gets them off my back about maneuvers and training and shit. I just hold a complex plane remote I picked up and tell people that I'm playing with models.
When we get back, though, I always go hunting for the metal skeleton dudes. At first, they used to attack me, but lately we've come to a truce. Ever since I bought that electromagnet, that is. The noseless guys handled the negotiations for me releasing them. Best $300 I've ever spent, let me tell you.
Before I made that investment, though, the Orks used to defend me. When they all showed up, there were the most of them and they all attacked me. I killed only about a few thousand of them while screaming bloody murder. As time's gone on, they've started calling me "boss" more and more. They, uh, got a hold of one of my videos of me at the shooting range and were in awe. Over what, I'm not sure, but they just went on about "big dacker" or something for ages. It can be hard to figure out what they're talking about.
Some of the pointy-eared ones are jerks, kinda thoughtless hedonists in a way, but others are kinda cool. The Elders, I guess that's what they call themselves, they aren't that bad. When I do laundry, they get their big thing to help me fold clothes. I don't fully understand it, but...yeah. Kinda strange, more than a little creepy, but I'm not going to turn down free help.
I had to commit a little bit of genocide, and I kinda feel sorry about that at times, but...those little fuckers were dripping and disgusting. Their armor...well...somebody's doing something with it. I don't know. I'm kind of scared to ask.
Sometimes, though, I gotta admit, everything gets me down a little bit. I've really come to look forward to the big brick dudes. They're normally in these coffin thingies, but they've been letting them out now and then here lately. When one notices that I'm down, he comes to talk to me. I think everybody else is kind of afraid to. They can handle me being angry, happy, whatever, but when I'm sad, I guess I'm a little unpredictable to them. The metal brick dudes, though, they aren't scared, and they understand more than I give them credit for.
Apparently, the little uber-hedonists have been, uh, "attacking" me while I'm asleep. Dave, he tells me that there's some kind internet fetish about tiny creatures and keeps saying that we could make a mint. Yeah, I have rules against showing my wang on the Internet, and secondly, just because some people have that fetish doesn't mean that I do. Besides, I kinda want a real woman one of these days.
Now that I look at my bedroom, with all these things around, I'm starting to realize that until this situation is fixed, I'm not going to be bringing a girl home.
They all collected up in my bedroom easily enough. Even the necro-thingies showed up, which I kind of wasn't expecting. Some of them were armed. Maybe they all thought that I was going to try and kill them or something. Sure, all that they'd caused were some little cuts and minor punctures so far, but enough bee stings can kill a person, right?
I pulled my flatscreen out and called up the website, making them watch the teasers. One for each race, both showing them owning somebody, and showing them getting owned. Some reacted with pride, other anger, some longing, but I was surprised by the amount of indifference that was before me. I already knew these guys were basically soldiers, but for them to be this cold kinda took the wind out of my sails a little bit. But I'd already promised myself...
"You all see this? This isn't just you guys fighting, or maybe you didn't notice that there were people, people like me, in the background. I'm not good at this speech shit, so I'll just cut to the chase. You!" I pointed at the humans. "You're all just hanging around, waiting for your God-Emperor person dealie to show up and lead humanity. So he can return you to your normal state and all that."
"You!" I pointed at the other mostly-human guys, who were huddled up with the other things. "You've got your own pantheon thing going on. Hell, all of you have your reasons to fight, or to stay here, right?" A murmur of consent from the huddled masses. "Yeah, how do you like being made playthings, huh? How do you like somebody to try and act like a god over you?"
That got a murmur through them. Good. I was pressing buttons. I pointed to the ones with pointy ears, but they beat me to the punch. "We would not stand by such aggression against our people."
A warrior (Warrioress? I could barely hear them yelling at me, let alone make out their genders) of the noseless guys called out. "We would support a rescue mission, if that is what you are implying."
The one guy, Magus, I think his name was, stepped forward from the bug guys. "What did you have in mind?"
"WAAAAAAAAAAGH!" screamed the Orks, as if they were answering the question. I glanced to the metal skeletons. They hadn't left yet, but otherwise gave no reply. Good enough for me.
"Close enough. I say we spring them. Bust them loose. Uh...free them from their imprisonment. And stuff. But I think that it's only right if you guys do it." I could feel the look that everybody seemed to be giving me. "Sure, I suppose that I could do it, I guess..." Me? Ha! Yeah, right. "But you guys sort of have the right. After all, it's somebody enslaving your people, so I figure that a little payback is in order, don't you?"
A righteous cheer rang out, giving me a grim smile. "Alright then! Everybody out. We've got a week before the next match, and I'll need lists of everything that you need to get ready. I need a little time to prepare myself."
I closed my door behind them and flopped on my bed, closing my eyes tight. In a way, that was the easy part. It had just been yapping. Now I actually had to deal with the consequences of getting them riled up.
"YOU DID WELL, YOUNG ONE."
I jerked my head up, only to find one of the block guys standing next to me. The "in death I serve" ones. Another reason why I liked talking with them, they had volume control. I could hear them without straining. A weak smile found its way to my face. "I have no fucking clue what I'm doing."
"I WOULD NOT EXPECT ANYTHING LESS FROM YOU," he said, putting one of his clawed "arms" on my hand. "YOU WOULD NEVER MAKE IT AS A MARINE, BUT YOU WOULD HAVE MADE A GOOD GUARDSMAN. YOU KNEW HOW TO INSPIRE."
Sure. Right. I'd call it bluffing and letting the anger do the talking, myself. But I didn't want to listen to him blather on like that. Time for a topic change. "Can I ask you a question? Like, privately, it goes no further than us?"
"MY BROTHERS ARE GUARDING THE DOOR. NONE WILL DISTURB US, NONE WILL KNOW OF WHAT WE SPEAK." A pause. "THEY ARE...ENSURING THAT YOU HAVE TIME TO PREPARE YOURSELF." I could hear the humor in his tone.
I sucked in a deep breath. "You guys, you believe in your God-Emperor dude, and from what I've gathered, you don't tolerate heresy. Like, at all. So, um...why...why haven't you attacked me? Or the rest of us? Aren't we, you know, heretics?"
He laughed at that. At least, I assume it was a laugh. It's hard to tell, him being a metal brick with a synth voice and all. "WE HAD MANY DEBATES ON THIS. HOWEVER, IT WAS DECIDED THAT HUMANITY HAS NOT YET BEEN ENLIGHTENED BY THE GOD-EMPEROR OF MANKIND. AS THE EMPEROR HAS YET TO ENLIGHTEN YOU TO HIS GLORY, YOU ARE NOT YET A HERETIC."
"So, if I don't follow him when he reveals himself, then I'm a heretic and worthy of death?"
"CORRECT." Well, that was comforting. "WE TOLERATE THE XENOS ONLY FOR NOW. WE WILL WATCH THEM UNTIL THE EMPEROR RETURNS, AND THEN DESTROY THEM IN HIS HONOR." He paused for a moment. "MAY I ASK YOU A QUESTION, YOUNG ONE?"
"Of course, grandpa." I had to get my rub in for him calling me young all the time.
"YOUR FRIEND, DAVID. HE IS AN UNUSUAL HUMAN." That's an understatement. "TELL ME, WHY DOES HE KEEP ASKING ME TO SAY THAT I AM 'IN IT FOR THE BITCHES'?"
I had to laugh, if only because I didn't know the answer myself.
---
The next week was...kind of intense, to be honest with you. I'll paraphrase, because the details were kind of boring. I've always kept a spare credit card in my fireproof safe, in case of emergency. Needless to say, for this I pulled it out.
Don't get me wrong! I'm not saying that I like all those guys, but some of them are...kinda cool in a way. They're like actual people, you know? Only...smaller. (I can't believe I just thought that. Maybe I AM going nuts...) Besides, how often do you get to see something like this, you know? How often do you get to say that you got to outfit not just one army, but a whole slew of them?
That said, it wasn't easy. I had to keep telling people, no, there's no such thing as "promethium" or bolter rounds. And a lot of the stuff that the Eldar guys and the Tech-priests asked for was well beyond my ability to comprehend, even when they kept dumbing it down for me. The Tau guys, they seemed to understand that I had limits to what I could do and asked for simple enough stuff. It took me a bit to figure out what the Orks wanted, too. At first, I thought that they were making a lousy Arnie impression and asking for a helicopter. Once I figured out what "dakkah" and "choppah" were, though, it got real easy, real fast.
Pretty much, my days fell into the following rituals.
Wake up. Free my junk from the little "one arm is a blade" chicks. Get the hedonistic Eldar people out of my bathroom. Shower. Enjoy a meal that the battle sisters and the slash folks cooked for me (two breakfasts, but I don't dare tell the sisters that they can't cook eggs worth shit). Take a peek at what the Orks built overnight. Watch as the humans struggle to improvise, something they don't appear to be the greatest at. They're better than the Eldar people, though.
Go to work. Call home during my lunch break, talk to everybody on the speakerphone, get a list of what they all need today. Get off work after getting chewed out by my boss that I'm not paying attention as well as I should. Hit up the hardware store, the toy store, a few places where I can buy chemicals, sometimes cloth, sometimes paper...I'd hit up friends for fireworks, empty coffee cans or tins...whatever. I always concluded my shopping run with a trip to a different pet store. Fish, spiders, scorpions, whatever I could get my hands on. The bug guys demanded it.
When I got home, I'd divvy everything up to everybody. Race cars, sheet metal, nails (tons of those), screws, piping, what have you. Something for everybody.
If I could get a handle on what was going on, I'd lend a helping hand. Usually, it ended up with me helping the Orks, which thrilled them to no small end. They liked it when their "boss" helped them. Apparently, I killed their former boss during the initial attack right off the bat. With a book. I don't know why, but I'd always hum the theme to The A-Team. After that, I'd enjoy another double-meal while discussing strategy, but by the end I was always feeling pretty exhausted. I'd lumber up to bed and just flop down, hoping I didn't squish anybody.
The only reason why I didn't kill the pervert chicks in the morning arose here. They'd start to massage me, which wasn't easy, you know? Eventually, some of the dark elder people would join in. I think that the humans thought the others were trying to corrupt me, so they'd join the act, too, singing hymns at the same time. It's...surprisingly easy to fall asleep to that kind of treatment. And then I'd wake up and start it again...
At least, that's generalizing it all. There was plenty of variation in-between, but that's the basic idea. I'd also do stuff like scout the place where the "deathmatch" was going to take place, look into renting a truck, that sort of thing. A lot of time was spent praying that I wouldn't get arrested by the cops following my paper trail.
Frankly, I don't think I could have managed it without Caleb, the "dead" guy in the metal walking brick. He was good about encouragement, and helping me sort through strategy. He'd fought enough "xenos" in his days to know how they operated, so he was able to give me some insights. Though some of his plans really...well, they were kind of dumb. That's where the Tau came in. Did I mention that they always wanted to help? Almost creepy in a way, to be honest. But by the time that the day had arrived, we were as ready as we could be.
I parked the truck and gently put on my backpack. According to my watch, I had ten minutes before the show started. Good enough for me. I made a show of locking the truck, too. Thanks to the economy, everything's been shutting down, so most of the places in this neighborhood had closed shop. This particular warehouse had been used once upon a time for those robot wars things, so it even had seating, or so I heard. (I preferred the one hosted by Lister, used to watch it on cable. Paying extra for a foreign channel was worth it.)
The guy at the door eyed me as I held out the $50. "Show's about to start." He paused. "What's with the backpack?"
I reached inside and pulled out a Marine to show to him, holding it by its base. "Just want to compare them to mine. See where I fucked up, see what I got right. No cameras or nothin'! I read the rules, and I want to come back."
He seemed to debate this for a moment, then shrugged and let me through. After a moment, guilt hit me. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
The little guy seemed indignant, about to rip his boots free from where I'd superglued them. "It takes more than that to hurt-"
"Right, shh." I slid him back into the bag and milled about for a few moments. Finally, I set the backpack down and moved for a seat. Too far away to see anything, but it was better that way. From where I'd ditched my backpack, I could see Marines, Caleb, some Tau, and others making their way out. Right.
"Ladies and gentlemen," boomed the voice on the PA. Where did they get the power for that, since they didn't own the building? "Are you ready for the show to begin?"
He had no idea.
I wasn't paying attention to the speech in the slightest. Usual pump up the crowd bullshit that you hear at pep rallies. I left those behind when I graduated high school. No, my eyes were glued to my watch. I was close enough to hear the soft cry of the guy at the door, two seconds late. Fortunately, I seemed to be the only one who did. I prayed...fuck, I don't know who I was praying to. God? The Emperor? Slaanesh or whatever? Mork (and Mindy)? I don't know, but I just wanted to have everything go off without a hitch.
The part of my brain that was paying attention to my surroundings told me that people were moving closer to the "arena". Meanwhile, I was counting down. My fist came to my teeth, and my heart felt like it was going to explode. Motion at the door, near the floor. Close enough. Now all that they were waiting for was...
The crash of glass announced their arrival. It wasn't just one window pane from above our heads that shattered, it was all of them. Instantly, I began to relax. Now my role was getting easy. Wait until the chaos, go grab the people and put them in the backpack, and scramble back outside, hoping nobody got me by mistake.
Which, considering that there were suddenly nails shooting all over the place, airplanes carpet bombing small pipe bombs and spraying homemade napalm, and then their own "heavy" weapons... that prospect wasn't looking so hot.
I wasn't going to get involved. I kept telling myself this. In the bloodbath going on around me, with the people screaming and falling over and catching on fire, I'm a noncombatant. I was like a medic, right? As I pushed through the crowd, the people running towards the deathtrap that was the door acting as living cover for me, I tried to convince myself of this. That I was the good guy, and that I wasn't responsible for anything if I didn't actually hurt anybody.
That all changed when I saw Caleb get kicked. I don't mean, bumped over, I mean as he was drilling rounds into somebody else, a guy up and kicked him right into a Tau in power armor, sending them both crashing into a wall. The little blue guy was bleeding, I could see that much on the wall, but all other details were lost to me. I couldn't tell if he was hurt, scratched, or splatted. And I couldn't even begin to guess at the fate of Caleb. My Dreadnought friend.
My Dreadnought.
My friend.
My friends.
I saw myself grabbing the fucker. Whirling him around. My fist connecting with his face. Again and again and again, until he wasn't fighting any more. I turned, looking back at the "arena", separated from it by a stripe of fire. I couldn't hear the battle cry of the Orks, or the screaming of the people. There was the fucker in charge. I couldn't hear the humans scream to purge the unclean, the guys with the guitars playing their ear shattering music, the distinctive sounds of the Eldar or Necron weapons. He was just standing there, watching everything. Terrified. I bellowed. I hollered. And I charged...
I winced as the bone in my hand shifted...okay, I lied. I grabbed my bedsheet with my other hand and grit my teeth until I thought they were going to break. The Dread' had no sense of compassion right now, it just kept on setting bones. It wasn't Caleb, either. Rengar something-or-another. Caleb wouldn't be done with repairs for some time still. I was told that he would...survive.
I kinda wished I hadn't now. If a Dreadnought ever offers to tend your wounds, don't take him up on the offer.
When you listen to them talk, everybody tells a slightly different story about what happened. Some Orks say that I yelled "Here we go, here we go, here we go!!" as I began to assault every full-sized human who wasn't otherwise being slaughtered. Other Orks say I yelled "Waagh," or however you spell their warcry. A Tau, in order to stop the fighting, suggested that both camps might be right. Seemed to work for the time being.
The humans were a mixed back. The Imperial guys thought I cried out to purge them all in the Emperor's name, only in less words. Meanwhile, somebody from the Chaos side said I swore an oath to the Blood God. We...lost a lot of people over that. At least the Elder and the Tau agree on what I yelled. "Finish it." Somehow, I think that everybody might be right, and wrong at the same time.
That was...a month ago or so. Yeah, I got questioned by the cops, but when I eagerly showed them my "kickass modded remote control car collection," they seem to have dropped me as a suspect. Haven't even called into work about if I went in that day or not. Which work would look at my time card and say that I clocked out right on time. When the IT guy knows the passwords to change the time cards and knows how to cover his tracks...
"YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE PUNCHED THE WALL."
"It was either that or kill the motherfucker," a daemonette cooed into my ear. I wasn't sure if she was comforting me or encouraging me.
"DON'T DO IT AGAIN OR YOU WILL BREAK THINGS FOR THE THIRD TIME." A pause as he began to put the splints on again. "ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?"
"Yeah. Just so utterly aware of the fact that I'm alive thanks to that bastard." Rengar seemed amused by that answer. You learn to tell these things.
Dave. The bastard. I'd just tried to call him for the first time since things went down. He wigged. Needless to say, our friendship is probably over. Maybe he'll get over it in a month or two. Still, I can help but feel like he's a waste now. I did what was necessary. I did the right thing. And now he's...he said I'm not the same, and he's right. But he's the one who couldn't rescue them himself, so fuck him. I was tempted to let some of the more...disturbed Sla-whatever-I-give-up-on-this-stupid-name people have their way with him.
...But by the way that the sisters were eying me, I knew I wouldn't.
I had to be careful with them, now. Especially since the daemonettes have been earning me extra money. They've been, uh, using household items for their own amusement, shall we say. I can see how it might be arousing, but since they started filming it with my webcam, I kinda figured why not make some extra money? Throw a filter or two on it, sell them online as CGI. Not a lot of money, but enough that I'm considering moving. Bigger house, with more bedrooms. One for each faction. That should take the arguments down a notch.
Except for the ones about my soul. Whatever.
Though, I had found the notes of a guy online. Another guy who had more of these people. I gotta admit, I've been considering trying to get a hold of him. You never know, right?
...Right?
BlakeLock
Here's my story, probably not remembered since it was posted late, in an unarchived topic. Enjoy.
It was 7 AM, Saturday, so why was I awake? I had nothing to do that day, and I had been up not four hours ago, I should be asleep right now. And what the hell is that tapping on my arm?
Wait a sec, what?
I opened my eyes, trying to find the source. Darting from one spot to another, my eyes saw nothing around me. I was in my room, TV was on low, I think some talk show was on, and the computer was on, showing some Wikipedia article on tanks.
"Wait a moment, I wasn't looking at that last night..!" The tapping continued, feeling more and more like a poke through the sweater I had fallen asleep in. I jumped out of bed, and that's when I saw it.
It was an alien-looking insect..type...thing. Hell if I knew, I just knew that it was alive, on me, and trying to stab me in my sleep. Almost instinctively, I grabbed a book off of my desk and as I was about to slam downwards, I heard what seemed to be warcries, and the bug was torn to bits by...laser pointers? It was splattering ichor all over my carpet, but I'd have to deal with it later. I heard one of the voices shout "Now! Basilisks, fire at the giant! FOR THE EMPEROR!"
I heard the word "fire", and jumped back onto the bed, my face going into the pillow. Just in time, it seemed, as the next moment I heard the thump of something hard hitting the wall. I kind of didn't want to get up...
"You missed! Ready another salvo! Guardsmen, March forward!"
Goddamnit, today was going to be a long day, I could tell. I raised my head, and glanced at the wall. Slightly dented, quite blackened. Whatever a basilisk was, it must fire something akin to artillery rounds.
O got up, and rolled off of my bed, to the side the...whatever the hell they were weren't firing from. I heard a splat, and it felt like I had rolled onto a small rock. I looked up, and saw a bunch of green-skinned, gorilla looking humanoids stepping back, looking terrified.
"Oy! Da big 'umie dun squashed Da Boss!" One of the bigger ones had noticed a few seconds after the others, and jumped backward. I looked under me, and saw a larger greenskin, crushed. He kept mumbling something, I wasn't paying attention to him. I rolled over to my (somehow now open) door, and stood up, brushing the squashed greenskins off of me. I was pissed, being woken up like this. So naturally, I yelled.
"Alright, WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE!?" everything stopped, that I could see. The greenskins following me looked up, almost frozen, and the small soldiers, probably the "Guard" that had taken out that bug-thing stopped and turned around. I saw what looked like miniature tanks turn stop, their crews climbing out to get a better look. Some things with Cone-shaped heads peeked out at me from the top of my shelves, from around the scaled robots I collect. I continued.
"Well?! And dammit, everyone here, front and center! Now, before I start breaking things!" To emphasize things, I grabbed the baseball bat I had by the door, smacking it against my palm. It helped to wake me up.
Oddly enough, the things started to follow my orders. Tanks, greenskins, soldiers, and a hell of a lot of stuff I'd not seen yet. Box shaped armored troopers and...robots? Small things with huge shoulder armor, things that looked like the heavy-shoulders but in multicolor? I looked up, and the Cone-heads peeked out as well. A few of the bugs looked up, coming from behind my dresser.
God DAMN, this was going to be a long day.
There was an air of relative silence, like I said before. But it wasn't enough. I wanted answers, and dammit, I wanted them now. I scanned the Guardsmen, and found the one with the most impressive looking hat. That signifies a higher rank in most fiction, I hoped it would work here as well. I reached down, picked up the guy, and put him in my hand. I grabbed one of the Blue Big-Shoulders, one with the Egyptian-looking helmet, and one of the blocky robot suits as well. As they rose up, I heard the hat-man mutter something about heretics and "filthy xenos scum". I raised my hand up near my face, and spoke.
"You three look like you know something. Start talking fast, or so help me I will show you what happens when a baseball bat hits a tiny thing falling from high up." My grip on the bat tightened, I wasn't bluffing. The hat-man cowered, and the robot started waving it's arms around. The Big-Shoulder put a hand on his helmet, and...spoke, I guess? It sounded like a faraway echo.
"Ah yes....Blake, is it? We've been waiting to speak with you. What is it exactly that you wish to know...?"
The thing knew my name. How the HELL did it know my name, and why was it so goddamn calm!?
"Okay, first things first. Who are you guys, and how do you know my name?" I looked at the three, then glanced at the things on the floor, and on top of the shelves. The Coneheads were fighting spikier versions of themselves, and it looked like the Guardsmen and the Orks had started fighting. I held up the bat, and hit one of the tanks. It crumpled. That got the fighting to stop, for the moment.
I turned back to the three in my hand, and the big-shoulder spoke just as calmly as before.
"We are many different things. I myself am a Chaos Space Marine, one of the Thousand Suns who worship the great Tzeentch. My name is Erial, and it's quite nice to meet you. The coward to my right is a Commissar of the Imperial Guard, whom I plan on killing soon. The worried creature to my left is not a robot, but a Tau Battlesuit Pilot. Congratulations on picking up the leader of that squad, how did you know the leader would have red on it?" This Erial guy was too calm for my tastes. But, he was giving me answers, and that was good enough. Somehow sensing what I was about to say, he continued.
"I know who you are because I am a psyker - a psychic, if you will. I have passed on this knowledge to my allies, but I'm positive the Eldar and Dark Eldar on your shelf have done the same. The Dark Eldar are the spiky ones, by the way."
Great, now I find out that they're psychics.
"Okay, now how about where you came from, and what you're doing here?" More fighting in the crowd. This time, I brought the bat down in a group of greenskins-no, "Orks", as Erial told me. Wait, was that just- Yes, that was just telepathy. Erial is talking to me in my head. Goddamn. Regardless, the Orks scattered, and the fighting stopped once more.
It appeared that seeing a bunch of Orks get squashed was enough to get the Commissar talking again, and he straightened his hat.
"I'll talk now, if you will. We, are from many planets. In the 41st millennium, there is much war between our factions, but somehow, all of us ended up on one planet. We found each other, and began a battle the likes of which we had never seen." Erial told me via telepathy that this battle consisted mainly of the Tyranids-the bugs, eating things and Guardsmen being killed. The Commissar continued.
"It seems that the massive number of psykers using their powers at once tore a hole in the Warp, casting us to this world, and if I'm correct, made us very tiny. We ended up here, no idea why."
"So you're all a bunch of space soldiers turned tiny and teleported here via massive amounts of magic. Grand." I set the three down, and hit the floor with my bat. That got their attention pretty quickly.
"Alright, all of you listen! You're here in my house, so you're going to follow my rules, or get hit by a bigger bat. My rules are simple. First, STOP FIGHTING. Second, get OUT of my room - that means you too, Eldar and whoever's messing with my computer! Third, the Largest and Second Largest rooms in the house are neutral zones, nobody is to set up camp there. Fourth, follow any future rules I make. Any questions?" An Ork spoke up, it looked like the one I squashed earlier.
"Yea! Who does you think you are, ya damn grot!? I'z da Boss, I'z the biggest!" I wasn't going to have this shit. Not now. Not today. I picked the Ork up, and brought him close to my face. I screamed.
"I'M THE BOSS, SINCE I'M SO BIGGEST I SHIT OUT ROBOTS." I pointed the bat to the shelves. They were scale models, yes, but hell if they weren't massive compared to him. The Ork was blown back, but I caught him and set him down gently. He looked up at me, terrified.
"N-No! I'z da B-boss, ya damn 'umie! You'z not nearly as O-orky as I is!" I paused. Here was the Ork Leader, yelling at me, trying to assert his dominance over me, in my own house.
I brought down the bat directly on top of him. The crunch he made was...satisfying. "Well? Anyone else want to say anything?"
All the troops dashed out of my room. Some flew, some rode tanks and bikes, some of the Orks jumped on other factions vehicles to get faster rides out.
I closed the door and locked it once they all left, and got in bed. It was going to be a long day, but I was going to need some sleep first.
Clean Marine
I woke up this morning with three things on my mind 1. take a piss 2.a shower 3.get some food. But instead I wake up to a fucking ARMY in my room! I look at my floor and there are hundreds of little people with green armor on and they have guns!! "whaaa the fu-" "FIRE!" a tiny voice roars. then as I set there like a dumbass as thousands of red lines of light and yellow tracers hit me in the arms, legs, chest, and head. "OWWW FUCK!" I roar. I duck down under my blanket but the tracers rip through it and the red beams burn my covers. As I'm huddled in a ball thinking what to do next... "HOLD YOUR FIRE!" the little voice barks the barrage stops.... "XENOS SURRENDER NOW AND WE WON'T KILL YOU!" I pause... "o-OK I'm coming out don't shoot!" I move the blanket aside and look down.... and I see again the thousands of little people in green fatigues and body armor but this time they have several tanks with them!! One of the tanks is a bit smaller than a my XBOX 360. all of it's guns turn on me including it's main gun I suppose cause it's the biggest gun on it! I raise my arms "I surrender!" I watch in awe as every one on the floor begins to cheer! the languge is English but it's accent is very strange... "STOP!" the first voice speaks again. "XENOS IDENTIFY YOURSELF!" I reply m-My name is Greg Marks" there is no reply for some time... then as if by magic the voice speaks again, "HOW IS IT XENOS THAT,YOU HAVE A TERRAN NAME!" "Huh?" I reply. "ANSWER ME!" the voice roars I think terran... oh earth is called terra! I say "we're on Terra right now!" "IMPOSSIBLE! THIS PLANET IS TOO UNDERDEVELOPED TO BE HOLY TERRA!" "I will NOT be called a liar by a little person, who wakes a man by shooting him in his bed!" the voice pauses then replys "ALL RIGHT XENOS, WE WILL TEST YOUR DNA TO SEE WHO IS FALSE!" "DON'T MOVE OR WE WILL OPEN FIRE!" I keep my arms up... all of a sudden a soldier with a medical symbol climes on my bed with a first aid kit, he is escorted by two others armed with what appears to be a rocket launcher... a tiny voice shouts "hold out your hand" I do so very slowly... I point at him very well aware that every tiny gun is locked on my head... the medic sticks me with a needle and motions to raise my arms again... the thing he stuck with makes a chime and he stares at it with an expression of... confusion? the three solders climb down... I can see the medic sprint to the huge tank... a hatch pops open and a dude with to biggest fucking hat I've every seen in my life pops his head out... I can hear some of the conversation.. "Impossible!" the big hat is yelling "his DNA can't be more pure than mine!" "But it's true he is pure terran." the medic replies. the big hat has a look of .. fear? he looks at me a yells "XENOS WHAT YEAR IS IT?" "2010" "WHAT MELLENA?" "The Second" I reply back.... I look at the people they... they are in shock! "W-WW WHAT!?!" "HOW CAN THIS BE?! the little dudes on the floor are on their knees praying?... "OH THRONE" "OH FUCK!" 'Whats the big deal?" is my response the dude in the big hat looks at me and says "We are from the year 40,971, we are a division of Cadian 1st of the Imperial Guard. We were on Cadia repelling a assault by the foul armies of Chaos..." He paused "Then we were hit by a bright light then we were here." "Holy shit" I reply back.. The dude in the hat gets a look of rage on his face "Don't blaspheme you fucking heretic!" "Sorry didn't mean to!" is my quick response. His face calms instantly "I'm sorry the God-Emperor has not revealed him self yet so I can't execute you for heresy"... "God-Emperor?" I ask the little man gets a look on his face of joy as he explains the world he came from and the man they worship, and how the Imperium as human controlled space is called is always at war with someone or something. He tells me about the battle that led him here, as his unit was mopping up Chaos stragglers a white light hit them here and his finishes his story. "Damn In the Far Future there is only War." "Yes Indeed there is....
Chapter 2
ONE MONTH LATER
ToyHammer
Chapter One. The rest can be found starting here.
"Alright, see ya 'round, Michael."
"Yeah. Tomorrow, then. Later, Vincent."
Trudging up the path to my house, I looked up at it. It wasn't a large house, but it wasn't small either.
Four bedrooms, two bathrooms on each of the two floors, a lounge, kitchen... you know, the stock standard thing for a growing family, except that I was in here alone. My grandfather had left me this house to piss off his sons, seeing as they were all married and sucking up to him so they could get the place. And... my father had left marks on me. Grandad was one hell of a guy if you pissed him off.
So, when he died his Will was one hell of a surprise: I was shipped in as the caretaker of his estate, and I had lived here with what few cousins I had going through the local colleges, but otherwise I was simply going to ply my trade as an aspiring artist. Right now, I was keeping the place down for when my baby sis would come along for her stint in college, so it wasn't a bad deal.
Unlocking the door, I opened it as a marble-sized, bright blue sun arced across the living room, instantly vaporizing a CD wide section of the carpet. Chattering gunfire, self-righteous shouts, litanies of hate and cries for medics filled the room.
What. The. Hell.
I recognized the small, table-top miniature sized figures were running around; some fighting in brutal hand-to-hand combat while others stayed at a distance in exchanged of brutal volley-after-volley barrages that more than damaged the furniture around the house. They all belonged to a game... Warhammer 40k, if I recall correctly. Good thing I had given most of the older stuff to aunt Linda, then.
My mind was going overdrive in shock, I found myself entranced, watching the battlefield as something settled into my stomach. I had played Dawn of War before. I had also tried (badly) at getting a hang of the tabletop games. Occasionally, I did a few sketches for friends who were fans. The little figures around me were from one of the most violent universes imaginable, and that universe had just deposited their most brutal warriors into my living room.
My knees buckled and I had to lean against a wall as Assault Space Marines traded blows with Eldar Banshees, Tau Fire Warriors sniped Imperial Guardsmen (which were occupying the doorway into the kitchen/hallway area, the closest force to me), and... an Inquisitor strangling his Vox-operator. A bright maelstrom of glowing skulls drew my attention to the Sisters of Battle, Grey Knights and other Inquisitional forces that were locked in combat with the other colorful Eldar and Tau forces around the couches.
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE!?"
Everyone stopped as the booming voice above them demanded explanation.
Several heads turned, seeing me for the first time.
Okay, I'm not quite that much of a person in real life; blond hair that was rather long at the back, tied into a ponytail at times. I have blue eyes, which were right now more worried than angry, as well as some rather plain, mostly second-hand clothes.
If I bumped into you on the street, you're most likely to forget me in about two minutes.
These guys, however, looked like they needed sunglasses. Like I was some sparkling freak as I stepped in with the bright sun behind me. A few fell to their knees as they looked up in awe or confusion
But then again, I was about the size of the Empire State building when you thought about scale, so yeah.
The Inquisitor stopped strangling the poor vox-operator, and began to shout at the nearby tank - I recognized it as from one of the few factions of the game that I was familiar with: The Imperial Guard. This shoe-sized vehicle was perfectly identical to one of the tanks that my Warhammer 40k fan of a friend Vincent had shown me: A Leman Russ battle tank, the steroid enhanced T-34 of the 41st Millennium. It swung its massive cannon around to shoot at my knee. I panicked, and fell back to Isaac's – an old friend of mine, irrelevant to the story – usual lectures about idiotic things to try; such as shoving an umbrella into a gun to stop it from killing you.
An umbrella was ripped from the stand beside the door before I rammed the tip of the umbrella at the barrel. It missed, but sent the Leman Russ skittering off on its treads. The cannon fired wildly – hitting a wall – and stopping as its crew popped their hatches and wretched up their breakfast.
I picked up the tank - it was maybe the same weight as couple bricks - turned it upside down and gave it a shake. Screams and the sound of churning vomit and clattering high-explosive shells squeaked out from inside. A few Imperium tank-operators fell out screaming as they dropped the six inches/sixty feet to the ground. I hefted the tank in my hands, and looked around. Most of the figures around the living room were stock still in a tableau of shock.
That incident, if anything, steeled my confidence; I was much, much larger, and therefore could handle more people at once.
"Okay, if anyone else gets the idea of shooting me, I can - and will - throw this tank at you." A red-robed, half-machine man squeaked and fainted behind the Inquisitor. For the moment, I ignored him.
"So... I assume you all have leaders. Those leaders will tell their respective warriors to stand down and go sulk in a corner. Then they will meet me in the center of this room, now. And if you so much as sneeze in the wrong direction, I will introduce you to a HyperVac 3200."
The human soldiers at my toes all began to wonder what the HyperVac (my rusted old vacuum cleaner) was, but decided that it was better to ask me when I wasn't angry, so they all began to mill about, shouting orders and organizing themselves into their companies and taking shelter in the kitchen. The Inquisitor and his retinue quietly fell in behind me (but I could feel the hate being bored into my ankles).
Walking into the living room, I sat down on the sofa, waiting for the others to come along.
An angled, yellow-and-red armored suit flew on plumes of brilliant blue light as it hovered in the air as below, a large, hovering vehicle with very fish-like characteristics skimmed over the charred carpet. There was a faint 'pop', I smelled a hint of ozone (being in the same Chemistry class as Vincent during high school introduced you to a lot of new and often hazardous smells) and a walking armored bear, painted in royal blue and gold, stalked in with his massive left fist crackling energy even as he hefted a massive double barreled cannon. Glowing eyes and smoking scorch marks on his armor gave him a fearsome appearance. His retinue ran or jumped up to meet on the hard, wooden coffee table.
Something disturbed the air behind him, and a tall, elegant warrior armed with a glowing spear and swirling cape appeared. Holding a (geometrically) curvy pistol and moving with unnatural grace, I again was struck by the polarity of the two races: the Space Marine, of course, was brutally stocky and looked like he could barrel through any combat situation. The Eldar here, however, was tall and lithe, slim and... fragile. The large, dozen-and a half members of this one's council took me aback, though. There were simply so many!
Other warriors appeared around them, but it was they who grabbed my attention the most. Trawling through my mind, I recognized them as a Space Marine Force Commander and Eldar Farseer, respectively. The Farseer looked up at me, and I could see that it was visibly annoyed at me.
"We are here, as you have so kindly asked us, mon-keigh. Now speak," she hissed. "and let us be back to war."
The blue suit of armor whipped around, snarling something incoherent as it swung a mighty fist around. Coneheaded and willowy simply ducked under the blow, laughing with its rather odd yet regal voice. It brought its spear back up.
"Now that's more like it!"
Both of them were audibly pained as I slammed the Leman Russ down on them. Half the assembled leaders flinched from the impact. Shouts of frustration and agony came out from underneath the treads.
"Like I said; no fighting, damn you."
I lifted the tank off the two leaders, and they straightened themselves up, considerably chastened but probably uninjured, considering their mastery of combat. Scanning the faces before me as I sat on the battle-scarred couch, I considered my situation. There were characters from one of the most grimdark universes that humankind has imagined; military officers from the Imperium of Man (as Imperial Guard and Inquisition), Space Marine, Tau and Eldar factions were all assembled before me.
"Well, at least I don't have to deal with any Chaos or Orks." I muttered, rubbing my temples in frustration.
The races in front of me nodded rather cautiously, wondering what kind of game I was up to.
"Alright. So. Introductions first, along with whoever is your command squad. I'm Michael, I own this house and can crush you with a tank."
Thinking for a moment, I decided to add: "Repeatedly, if necessary. Or with something heavier."
A few glares were thrown in my direction. I sighed. "How about you?"
I pointed at the now very nervous Imperial Guard General and his command squad. After all, he was the most squishy one out of the heavily armored Space Marine and Inquisitor, the battlesuit-equipped Tau and the elegantly armored Eldar warrior.
"General Ulrich Faust of the Cadian 938th. My aides; Commissar Tomas Sturm, Father Bennedict, Kasrkin Leon Cadiasson, and Sanctioned Psyker Ishabeth." The man muttered, his hands resting on the hilts of his weapons; a sword and pistol. His retinue was composed of a black-greatcoat wearing man who fit the Soviet Russian Commissar stereotype perfectly, a priestly man with an eight foot chainsaw, a helmeted warrior who looked about as heavily armored as a human could get, and a woman who looked about the youngest of the group around me, cradling a staff with an eagle on its tip in her hands and gently whispering to it.
I moved my gaze to the armored bear. His voice was the modulated kind you get from someone trying to speak from the insides of a very echoey helmet.
"Eizak Arelius, Commander of the Angela Crusade. Ultramarines Chapter. With me is Chaplain Morteus, Librarian Vasili and Assault Sergeant Vinters." The other three Space Marine leaders were less armored, but not by much; the black-armored 'Chaplain' wore a mask that looked almost like a skull, and eyes glowed red as they bored into my soul. I quickly turned to the Librarian, who had a massive hood of metal and wiring mounted on his head. The man's eyes also disconcerted me. The last of these was perhaps the lowest ranking, his armor with very few decorations past a few lines of prayer engraved upon his shoulder-pads. What was striking was the large jetpack on his back and the chainsaw-meets-sword held loosely in his left hand.
A pointed look at the Inquisitor got me a very hard stare back. Thank goodness I couldn't make out his eyes; they would have made me piss myself if I wasn't careful.
"Inquisitor Iosef Danilov of Sebiska. Ordo Malleus. Also Canonness Samisha Ludmilla of the Sisters of Battle and Justicar Amadeus of the Grey Knights, as well as Arbites Judge Phobias." Phou-bai-ahs, I noted.
Nodding at the three others mentioned; a black-armored female with a rather incendiary theme about her, a grey armored knight with a crackling blue halberd and a man who looked like Judge Dredd after a shave, I quickly moved on to the Eldar, which met my gaze from the glowing vision slits of her conical helmet. She had, by far, the largest retinue of the forces around here.
"Farseer Zara, Ulthwe craftworld. My protege here is Councillor Alvus. Those standing around me are the Exarches of the Howling Banshees Lyndia... " She glanced behind her. "Shining Spears Iyanshir, Warp Spiders Gladosh, Striking Scorpions Yandeer, Swooping Hawks Al-Tair..."
I quickly held up my hand for her to stop, and shrugged. There were still probably another twelve or so to go.
"Thanks for introducing me, but... I think I can learn their names later on."
I was, also, on the verge of laughter at the sheer size differences and variety among them. They looked more like a troop of clowns, rather than warriors! Although I was probably going to have to ask her to introduce us again, it would have probably taken too long. I moved on, and looked at the battlesuited warrior.
"And last but not least..."
"Shas'El Fi'rios …" I saw hesitate, and then wave dismissively. "Gue'la have a hard time understanding the meaning of Tau names, but I believe my personal name in your language means 'Firestrike', and that will suffice.. Ethereal Aun'ui accompanies and guides us. I believe you can also learn the names of our other leaders later." The Fire Warrior replied, eyeing me with the tricolored visual sensors embedded in its helmet. The smaller Tau who had accompanied him was simply robed, and probably the only one among them who wasn't armored.
"Alright." I sighed, standing. "Its... interesting to meet you all, but now that you've shot up my hous~"
The three-dozen leaders all erupted into frenzied arguments, summing up their varied arguments as 'those people did it!'. I placed the Leman Russ on the ground, grabbed the coffee table and gave it a good shaking. The artificial earthquake subsided after a few seconds.
"Look. I'm pretty sure you all have your respective differences, but this is my house, understand?" I glared at the lot of them. "Would you kindly show some decency, since you are all such 'advanced' civilizations?"
The lot of them stopped their arguments, and a few sheathed their weapons. Then there were subtle murmurs in the tune of 'alright' chorusing around. I sighed.
"Good. Now lets find you some bases, and we'll draw up some kind of agreement and... " I paused, sniffing the air. The others noticed, and did the same themselves.
"Wait... what's burning?"
I looked from one face to another, before we all turned to look at the smoking cabinet of DVDs. A large hole was burned into the paneling. I noticed several soldiers nervously tuck away tubular weapons and flamethrowers. Inside, something flickered. My DVDs were burning.
"OH SH~"
the first battle of kitchen
I'm terrified, I'd admit it. It's only 8:30 am and already I'm scared shitless. Here i am, cowering below the little window/opening thing in the wall between my ground floor hallway and my dining room. Why would i do this, you ask? Because there's a war being waged on my dining table, with the fruit bowl and salt & pepper shakers being used as cover!
I wish i was kidding, in the few seconds i saw them before cowardice took over and i dropped to the floor, i saw two...armies firing and ripping into each other. One definitely had more guys, they seemed to be armed with small rifles that fired a red beam of light...at a glance they numbered in the hundreds. At the front of their line however, were a large number of big guys in armor that reminded me of Starcraft, using SMG-esque guns and what...appeared to be one-handed chainsaws. Their opponents were a lot thinner and taller. They wore bone-white armor and were climbing onto the table from little grappling hooks, as it appeared most of their forces were waiting on the carpet for their chance to get into the fray.
I moved from my spot under the opening and crawled to the doorway. I could still hear the din of gun fire, screams and someone very human-sounding shouting something about an emperor. In an act i will never understand...i craned my neck out and took a look at the battlefield. I got a good look at the bone-white army and saw their tanks. They all hovered a few centimeters off the ground. It was then i finally noticed...damn, these guys are tiny! Seriously, i had finally gotten a good enough look too really realize the size of them. I was close to chuckling about it when i reminded myself two(tiny) armies were duking it out in my house...this is not a good thing.
It was at this time, while i was trying to decide the best course of action that i heard scraping upstairs...a shiver of fear went down my spine as i imagined what a third army could be doing in my room. Then a gasp escaped my mouth, the first noise i had made all day, for i had just remembered a very important fact that could change this entire battle...
i had a dog.
The scrapes became louder and more frequent, i got up from my hiding spot and gave away my position too the two forces in the dining hall. “daisy! No!” i shouted, hoping to keep her away from the fight. This was of course, to no avail... this was a dog that ate bees and actively hunted wasps that snuck into the house! The blonde-haired canine rushed past me and bound into the dining room to face(what i guess she considered) a threat to me and the home.
Admiral Vann Stann stood amongst his sniper squad, barking orders at his six expert marksman whenever a new Eldar target showed itself. With his spotting guiding their fire, the team had already taken down four exarchs and a pair of tank commanders who had poked their heads out of the top to get a good view. It was easy work for the snipers, the battlefield they had landed on was flat...save for the mounds of corpses and the strange statues that lay at the center of the field. He dis-liked the armies position. While he had hundreds upon hundreds of good Cadian men at his disposal, they lacked the heavy firepower of tanks or walkers that usually accompanied this sort of force. Their only attachments to the Cadians were three squads of Kaskrin storm troopers, who currently stoop atop an up-turned...hill, the admiral didn't know what too call it. When they first arrived it had been a giant bowl containing strange flora, until a guard noticed it was not stable they decided to flip it and use it for cover. This plus the some-two hundred space marines that had been accompanying then were the only real advantages the Admiral possessed to face the xenos. He was however thankful that his army had been lucky enough to land on a cliff, while it appears the eldar fell to the bottom and have been slowly climbing up, making it easy to keep their numbers few. He was beginning to plan how to get his men down unharmed and wipe them out...when he heard the womanly screams of the enemy from down below, and a thunderous cry came from a titan-sized being you'd refuse to believe can go un noticed. The admiral decided to abandon the sniper squad, summoned his retinue and went to the edge of the cliff(now eldar-free, thanks to the “order of heavens sabre” chapter marines) and investigate the sudden turn of events.
My warlocks and I stood in awe, but that awe was quickly replaced by fear.
Was this mon-keigh treachery? Had they known about this beast the size of a small titan and kept us pre-occupied until it could strike us down? Did it even matter? My mentor Idranel had taught me that over-thinking things could easily waste precious time that could be better used killing the enemy. With but a thought, I sent a message too the warhost under my command. “all vehicles attack! Fire dragons and howling banshees strike at it's legs! Everyone else stay back and watch the cliff for those damn mon-keigh!” as she gave the order and the multi-colored warriors of different craftworlds and aspects moved to engage the giant. There was the loud CRACK! Of a long rifle, and I turned to see a guardsmen, a Kaskrin if I remember their armor... fall to the ground and make a sickening splat on the strange grass we stood upon. As the combined weapons of the firepikes, pulse lances and the pair of prism cannons ripped into the gargantuan monster that, for now, ignored the damage and shredded the guardians and vypers that had been unfortunate enough to be closest too it. One of the dragons got a lucky shot, and I saw the bright red flame leap down the beasts throat. It yelped and backed away from the shooters...then re-doubled its efforts, leaping over the huddled masses of guardians and eldar that I knew would be ineffective...and in a moment i will never forget, bit the cannon off of one of my tanks and charged into the howling banshees.
It was when the hound(as i now recognized it, it was a giant canine) had ripped through half of my banshees and returned to devouring my tanks that i decided enough was enough. I called my warlocks too me, and pooled our psyker energy to try to annihilate the beast and return to our war against the Imperium and their filthy warriors. Together we began to shred the hounds very soul, as it cried and bellowed from the mental attack, i felt its more...immediate thoughts, a repeating cycle of “protect master, protect master” went through it's head as it fell. I stopped for a moment, considering what a monster this sized could call a master...too this day, i think of this as one of the biggest mistakes of my life. As i stopped to think i also stopped in the psyker attack, and my warlocks lacked the power too finish it off. As their hold wavered, the beast rose weakly, and was about to renew it's attack...when it's master came and swept it away from the fight.
I also regret the fact that, the first time i saw the masters simply morale-shattering size...my robes were not exactly pristine.
diary of a titan
DAY 1: the little elf guys have locked me in my room. After my dog ate like, half their army they sent their vehicles after me and lemme tell you those things fucking hurt! I've lost track of daisy, i assume she's raising hell downstairs.
I try to get out every now and then, but then i see the blockade of tanks and...floaty vehicles outside my bedroom door and they just glare at me until i close the door.
DAY 2: I heard knocking at my bedroom window, assumed it was the neighbor kids being the little shits they are. I went to investigate to discover some of those marine guys! They all had sniper rifles and camo capes...i barely understood what they were saying, but i guess what was really important was the fact they had set up some weird pulley system, and needed my help bolting it into place above my window. Eventually i got them talking with an accent i could comprehend. For now they didn't want have time(or they themselves didn't know) to explain what was going on, all they did tell me was that they were going to lift most of their forces into my room for an ambush, along with some food for me so i wont starve... I'm pretty curious how their getting into my fridge.
DAY 3: the first of what i now know are called the “imperial guard” have come up too my room. I had a chat with their leader Admiral Vann Stann or something like that...sounded dutch actually. He explained to me how the “xenos” outside were called eldar, and i was right in my assumption their a bunch of assholes. If i wasn't worried about my bedroom becoming a base of operations i would have asked some more important questions...but i was kind of pre-occupied chatting with the guardsmen who had some pretty great stories of war and conquest across the stars.
DAY 5: Yesterday was kind of rough. The guys coming up informed me that my dog had... “ended up being covered in Eldar faggot makeup and made to look like some kind of abominable elf chihuahua hybrid”. In a fit of rage I burst out the door and started stomping on the eldar vehicles. What I didn't notice was how sharp those fucking things were. So now the eldar are down maybe...6 tanks, and my foot is pretty messed up.
Today however, much better. The soldiers got onto my bookshelf and now im reading my copy of “war of the rats” out loud too them. I think they enjoy the well described violence and the sniper fights.
DAY 6: the Admiral tells me that were going to begin the assault on the Eldar today, while the guard forces up here cause a major distraction, the space marines that had stayed downstairs are going to sneak up and flank the enemy. Apparently my role in this engagement will be “anti vehicle, your legs are better than an artillery bombardment!”
Adjusting
It's been a week since the shakey truce was forged between the eldar and imperial guys. ive given the imperial guard and space marine guys the spare bedroom, while the eldar get half of my living room...i have another spare bedroom and offered it too them, but they refused(one of them mentioned they wanted the open space). trying to feed them is hard, at first i figured stuff like cereal would work since its tiny...i did not account for sugar cereal. no sooner had i given a couple of the eldar some coco-puffs did they go batshit insane, jump on their bikers and zoom around my head, nearly burning my ear off with their thrusters. the next day i tried cheerios and that went along better.
the imperial guys are amazing, yesterday i brought em in a big tv cardboard box and i come back a few hours later and they've built a chapel out of it! I'm still trying to coax an explanation out of how they got here out of their admiral, but he just shrugs and goes on about how something called "the warp" is a fickle mistress or something...
Today i had to board up Daisy's doggie door. some of the eldar got into my back yard looking for...god knows what, and they were assailed by some very aggressive sparrows. it took me swinging a rake around and snipers in my bedroom window too get rid of them. on the bright side the two armies ate good meat that night.