the-obsidian-mystic

[the-obsidian-mystic]

To quote Santa, "Landlords love to reap where they've never sowed."

Why do we needlessly gender things like:

Landlady

And Landlord

When we should use the correct terminology:

Parasite.

#ooc #if you know then you know

[the-obsidian-mystic]

"If you don't want to be spoken ill of when you die, don't be a despicable person."

"Don't speak ill of the dead? Maybe the dead shouldn't speak ill of me! I swear I've killed this guy like five times already, are these clones? Body doubles? Decoys? I don't know but I want him dead"

#ramses

[the-obsidian-mystic]

"Has it occurred to you that-"

"Ghaddar, bite your tongue."

Vercingetorix ordered, drawing his bolt pistol and directing the barrel towards the Host's own apothecary for emphasis.

"You will send no part of me to the pretender as I do not answer to him nor do I have a sense of duty to him."

He declared with a stern expression and a refusal to withdraw his hand from the chainsword it had rested on since the encounter had begun.

"In this, we are alike. Where we differentiate is that I recognize that wearing the badge of the thrice-damned openly is akin to suicide. I will not have my brothers and sisters slain by Kibre and his hounds over matters of pride."

@bitchofsteel "You are no brothers of mine. You people spit on my father's legacy. You must be mad if you think I will bend the knee to your Usurper of a warmaster!"

"Our Warmaster?! Why you-"

Vercingetorix snarled, resting a hand over the chainsword hanging at his belt with the intent of drawing it.

Before the two could escalate from words to swords, the company's apothecary stepped between them, looking between them with wide eyes beneath strands of unkempt hair.

"Brothers, Sisters, please! None of this!"

"Out of the way, Ghaddar. Save your honeyed words for the apothecarion should she reach it."

"Save YOUR embittered growls for barking orders when the need arises!"

[the-obsidian-mystic]

"Through my duties as an apothecary."

Ghaddar replied, unmoved by yet another set of orders threats from Freyja as he reattached the cannister to his belt and laid a hand over his holster. He didn't want infighting among what remained of the Sons of Horus but the opportunity to reason with the Noosemen seemed to be slipping away by the second.

"I swore an oath twelve millennia ago to preserve the geneseed of my legion and I stand by it."

@bitchofsteel "You are no brothers of mine. You people spit on my father's legacy. You must be mad if you think I will bend the knee to your Usurper of a warmaster!"

"Our Warmaster?! Why you-"

Vercingetorix snarled, resting a hand over the chainsword hanging at his belt with the intent of drawing it.

Before the two could escalate from words to swords, the company's apothecary stepped between them, looking between them with wide eyes beneath strands of unkempt hair.

"Brothers, Sisters, please! None of this!"

"Out of the way, Ghaddar. Save your honeyed words for the apothecarion should she reach it."

"Save YOUR embittered growls for barking orders when the need arises!"

[the-obsidian-mystic]

"We are not of any legion, not the Sons of Horus nor the Black Legion. We've been reduced to vultures; the lot of us."

The Apothecary knew he was preaching to the converted, so to speak. Freyja had no intention of listening to him and he knew as much. Though the lack of an audience to his appeals did not persuade him from testing the fates as he produced a cannister from his belt containing geneseed.

"If you valued our father's legacy so, would you not want to preserve this be it in this container or behind one's cuirass?"

@bitchofsteel "You are no brothers of mine. You people spit on my father's legacy. You must be mad if you think I will bend the knee to your Usurper of a warmaster!"

"Our Warmaster?! Why you-"

Vercingetorix snarled, resting a hand over the chainsword hanging at his belt with the intent of drawing it.

Before the two could escalate from words to swords, the company's apothecary stepped between them, looking between them with wide eyes beneath strands of unkempt hair.

"Brothers, Sisters, please! None of this!"

"Out of the way, Ghaddar. Save your honeyed words for the apothecarion should she reach it."

"Save YOUR embittered growls for barking orders when the need arises!"

[the-obsidian-mystic]

@bitchofsteel "You are no brothers of mine. You people spit on my father's legacy. You must be mad if you think I will bend the knee to your Usurper of a warmaster!"

"Our Warmaster?! Why you-"

Vercingetorix snarled, resting a hand over the chainsword hanging at his belt with the intent of drawing it.

Before the two could escalate from words to swords, the company's apothecary stepped between them, looking between them with wide eyes beneath strands of unkempt hair.

"Brothers, Sisters, please! None of this!"

"Out of the way, Ghaddar. Save your honeyed words for the apothecarion should she reach it."

"Save YOUR embittered growls for barking orders when the need arises!"

#alert: the Cthonians are fighting!

[the-obsidian-mystic]

“I am-” Suleiman began in a tone as irritable as everything said previously but was interrupted by a raised hand from Ramses. “-in no place to scathe a fellow Son of Magnus so venomously. He is Magister Suleiman Al-Kazan and we will leave it at that. Will we not?” “We will.”

"You've some nerve coming aboard this vessel, Ahriman."

Suleiman's voice crackled through an ancient vox caster while Ramses stood nearby, undoubtedly to attempt to keep tensions at a minimum.

Ahriman came to when an angry voice crackled through the vox. Sitting up, he groaned. He was alive! He had survived! He let out a breath.

Sitting up, the tactical display in his helmet flicked to life before blinking out again. He looked around and realised he was indeed in a ship.

“Where am I?” He has recognised the voice but had yet to place it. He’d been out of the galaxy for some time - locked in a demon’s cage.

[the-obsidian-mystic]

"The Gehenna, a Black Legion warship. My warship."

Suleiman was practically venomous with his tone. Evidently, despite a change of legions and nearly twelve millennia, he hadn't placed his disdain for the archsorcerer aside just yet.

Ramses, on the other hand, simply knelt next to him and held him up to ensure he was alright or, at the very least upright.

"Are you alright, Ahzek? Can you stand?"

"You've some nerve coming aboard this vessel, Ahriman."

Suleiman's voice crackled through an ancient vox caster while Ramses stood nearby, undoubtedly to attempt to keep tensions at a minimum.

Ahriman came to when an angry voice crackled through the vox. Sitting up, he groaned. He was alive! He had survived! He let out a breath.

Sitting up, the tactical display in his helmet flicked to life before blinking out again. He looked around and realised he was indeed in a ship.

“Where am I?” He has recognised the voice but had yet to place it. He’d been out of the galaxy for some time - locked in a demon’s cage.

[the-obsidian-mystic]

"Then it's in our best interests to reclaim it,"

Ghaddar said with a rather forced emphasis on 'our' as he directed a rather obvious side-eye at the Host's captain.

🌵 @bitchofsteel

C'Thonians, and Sons of Horus in general, were a rarity to encounter since both absorption into the Black Legion and the near extinction of the legion had nearly removed any sign of their existence. As such they were not greeted by the Warship's Lord, a Son of the Cyclops, but by several squads of inquisitive and even skeptical Sons of Horus. Nobody amongst the mercenary astartes were particularly sure of what had occurred to bring the Gehenna visitors from another warband, especially potential genesiblings. However, what was certain was just how strange the so-called C'Thonian Host was upon first glance for a product of the fortieth millennium. Of course, the Host's Assault Marines had devolved into raptors and the other expected oddities but aside from that the Host's black armor pauldrons of various shades of green and red bearing the eye of Horus made it seem as if the thirtieth millennium were merely the day before and not many lifetimes ago.

[the-obsidian-mystic]

"That's a trait that seems contagious these days. Especially for those in power."

"For a man who despises Abaddon for his cult of personality, it often seems like he fails to realize he's created his own fanatical following."

#ramses #freyja

[the-obsidian-mystic]

(I am a whole 5'6 worth of 'wtf is wrong with you'

//someone mentioning how short so many of my muses are. Me sitting here shorter then probably about 85% of them "haha yeah."

[the-obsidian-mystic]

Ash Wastes Nomads sighted

#cultist substitute spotted

[the-obsidian-mystic]

"Yourself, perhaps? Seeing as you're losing motor functions. Couldn't be the universe, a mere flask drop is far too tame a reaction."

"For a man who despises Abaddon for his cult of personality, it often seems like he fails to realize he's created his own fanatical following."

[the-obsidian-mystic]

"I believe that's a sign you've had enough, no?"

"For a man who despises Abaddon for his cult of personality, it often seems like he fails to realize he's created his own fanatical following."

[the-obsidian-mystic]

"I believe that's a sign you've had enough, no?"

"For a man who despises Abaddon for his cult of personality, it often seems like he fails to realize he's created his own fanatical following."

[the-obsidian-mystic]

"Several I'd like to think I love are like that. It comes with the territory of being in positions of leadership where weakness results in a dog piling that one doesn't survive."

"For a man who despises Abaddon for his cult of personality, it often seems like he fails to realize he's created his own fanatical following."

[the-obsidian-mystic]

"I'd request that you try not to die but that's redundant."

"I mean that's not technically illegal... Frowned upon yes, well probably."