projironwithin
Iron Within
The Iron Warrior Narrative
28 posts
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Last Seen Blogs
tylerposey
king of the lost boys
softeentwice
minatozaki sana its my wife.
larkfox
larkspur
rego-mem
Almost dead artist
Text
April Decision
Gonna make Kallipides a Siegebreaker consul as his static rank during the latter end of his service during the Great Crusade and ‘renegade’ lord of a break-off Iron Warrior Loyalist chapter during M40′s duration.
Old man Kallipides ending up a venerable dreadnaught too iron to die.
0 notes
Conversation
Drabble Me
Leave a “Amuse Me” in my ask, and I will write a funny drabble about my character trying to cheer your up.
Leave a “Break Me” in my ask, and I will write an angsty drabble about our characters.
Leave a “Call Me” in my ask, and I will write a drabble about my character asking for yours [be it at the brink of death/in a battlefield/knocking on the front door wounded, feel free to specify.]
Leave a “Drink Me” in my ask, and I will write a drabble about my character taking shots with yours.
Leave a “Enamor Me” in my ask, and I will write a fluffy drabble about my character trying to woo yours [be it out of the blue/Valentines Day,feel free to specify.]
Leave a “Fight Me” in my ask, and I will write a drabble out my character fighting with/or against yours.
Leave a “Get Me” in my ask, and I will write a drabble about my character saving yours.
Leave a “Haunt Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character watching over yours[as a ghost, watching from a distance, or otherwise, feel free to specify.]
Leave a “Invite Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character asking your character to
Leave a “Join Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character giving your character an offer [be it a proposal for an alliance, asking them to join them in an activity (you can get dirty if you want), feel free to specify.]
Leave a “Kill Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character killing yours.
Leave a “Love Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a fluffy drabble about our characters.
Leave a “Mourn Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character mourning your character’s death.
Leave a “Nurse Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character healing yours.
Leave a “Offer Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character giving yours a gift.
Leave a “Paint Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character drawing a picture of yours [like one of your french girls~ be it painting them or drawing them, maybe offering a picture of them as a gift, feel free to specify.]
Leave a “Quite Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character trying to calm yours down [be it from crying, from lashing out, feel free to specify.]
Leave a “Remember Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character trying to get yours to remember them [be it from an accident, meeting them after years apart, feel free to specify.]
Leave a “Shag Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a dirty drabble about our characters.
Leave a “Tell Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character confessing something to yours [be it a love confession, a secret, feel free to specify.]
Leave a “Unbind Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about your character freeing mine, or the other way around, or something among the lines [be it freeing them from jail, from handcuffs, from a trap, from a curse, feel free to specify.]
Leave a “Value Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character telling yours how they feel about them.
Leave a “Wed Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about our character under the subject of wedlock [be it my character proposing to yours, or marrying yours, feel free to specify.]
Leave a “X Me” in my ask, and I will write whatever it is that you wish, [specify.]
Leave an “Yahoo Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about our characters celebrating something [feel free to specify.]
Leave an “Zip Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about your character dressing mine, or the other way around [this can also be used for shutting them up as well, but feel free to specify.]
5K notes
·
View notes
Photo
“Cold hearts and bitter souls have the Iron Warriors. To them war is the clacking of the tallyman’s measure; all the blood spilled and the lives spent, the high walls toppled and the foes cast down to them is all no more than coins added to death’s coffers. The profit and loss of battle is their bread, the arithmetic of massacre is their wine, and with them it is an ashen feast they serve and yet find no pleasure in. There are many who look to the Emperor’s Legions and see Mortarion’s get as the ancient spectre of death come to flesh, the wiser few look upon the graveyards Perturabo’s faceless sons make of worlds with such calculated efficiency and may beg to differ.”
-Lord Militant Pietra Veitz Gustavus (Rt) Of War; A private Memoir of the Great Crusade Vol III, Mediations on the Legiones Astartes
939 notes
·
View notes
Text
;A; he just wants recognition
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
Coming back, work and terrible word-blocked hiatus is a pain.
@ask-jaghatai-khan
I will be answering to you! I didn’t even know I had a repost until recently.
0 notes
Text
“Sir!” Kallipides responded, arching into the air with a stiff grace that sent men diving for cover with their screams trailing from the afterburners of his vehicle. Following with the Khagan, the Consul unleashed the destruction of melta firepower with cold calculation. Each wrathful blast had a vicious affect that tore fortifications in a weakening shamble, tore mobilizing armour and formations apart, and left the burning wreckage of the enemy for Jaghatai to spear through.
In his vicious attacks, it made the enemy falter and spread out like scampering rats. Their morale twisting and tearing before their eyes, a company watching their immediate command squad being blown apart by a melta blast. The commanding officer hurling through the air with a couple of limbs flying, helpless by the appearance of the Iron Warrior consul.
Whilst most would be content of their absolute firepower, he revealed he wasn’t like most - a long-bearded chainaxe in hand, growling with its diamond-teeth and long slightly curved heft just for this. With one precise swing, Kallipides decapitated the man in the blink of an eye and his jetbike a block away before the body even hit the ground.
Another dry laughter crackled through him, a sense of pleasure that he experienced with his battle-brothers in outdoing of their rival squads and the wondrous success of a war-calculation performed to optimal perfection! “
Jetbike Squads Chalypsbelos-Alpha and Epilson, take to the Western AA Guns!” He ordered in his jovial bout with the Primarch himself, making a sudden turn in a split of buildings. The reinforced ram of his own vehicle smashed through rockcrete as if a child’s block, wall after wall crumbled to Iron Warrior armour and his melta-weapons blasting all in his way. Around him the administering building was already crumbling from the legiones assault, Kallipides ordered the battery to continue the siege. Destroy everything in key locations, no rebel of the Emperor’s unification is to leave unscarred nor a hint of their former leadership to remember. Everything is dust to their glorious lord’s boot.
And when Kallipides emerged from the building’s actual front, smashing the stainglass of some justicar-god into flying shards, the consul blew the marble statue standing two stories tall with a scepter in one hand and sword in the other into molten rock and debris while the structure behind him fell to nothing. “Lord Khan!” He called, looking about to ensure he didn’t get too passionate in his own enjoyment. A momentary breach of legionary conduct. However, in his call, a number of similarly fast vehicles were appearing from motor depots. Riding them were these xeno-taught men and women dressed in slick aerodynamic gear, faces hidden by swooped helms crested by animal-hair plumes. Their vehicles had similarity to a jetbike, yet more open and sleek for mobility than the sheer prowess of astartes designs.
They were fast, but Kallipides was better.
Zipping across the near mile-long courtyard, they were taking to a V formation closing to surround the consul like closing jaws. If they did, there was a clear advantage and fatality. He couldn’t turn or risk being blasted by their lesser plasma projectiles in the open sides. A hearts’ beat of thought and the Iron Warrior made a swooping turn to the left as if to make an escape to one of the enclosed courtyard’s exits. The flank’s chasers were quick to boost to intercept, only to find a chainaxe biting into the front of the faster rider. Chewing through the thin armour for the engine inside, but more importantly clung its teeth into the metal.
With a heave, Kallipides reeved the jetbike into a near 180 degree drill-like upturned spin that sent the caught rider flying into a several metre-thick pillar. At the same time, caught the quickly decelerating partner into a melta-blast in her attempt to avoid crashing into them both!
Firmly gripping his vehicle’s handlebar and boots secure, the Iron Warrior was flying upside down with the utterly distorted vertigo being nothing to him but a change of perception. Whipping his weapon back to its side sheath, he exchanged for a krak grenade and twisted its cooking time. Waiting for a microsecond before just letting gravity handle the rest, his visorsight in a 180 to see his hunters right on him, and flicked it to his respective right. The palm-sized explosive flew off and stuck to another pillar, away from the chasers’ view. In the split moment of time between passing, the pillar exploded with hot shards of rock spearing into pressure-suited bodies and thin-skinned vehicles.
Kallipides didn’t need to see the explosion with the two crashing into another as he flew off to continue on the main objective, blasting a low-flying vehicle off its underbelly repulsor on the way.
Despite himself, the Iron Warrior laughed again. It almost hurt to but it was pleasant. His voice pushing through the vox, “Lord Khan, Administration Facility destroyed. I require a refinement of your particular talent to this.”
Iron Support
@ask-jaghatai-khan
For your answer, worthy to your support!
Keep reading
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Iron Support
@ask-jaghatai-khan
For your answer, worthy to your support!
Consul-Delegatus Kallipides chuckled under his vox-grilles’ interference. It was a mechanical grind of lion’s churrs and a man’s dry amusement to the Primarch’s realistic jest. The legion’s casualties are well-known, but it was a byproduct of their battle doctrines. Their lives as individuals weren’t compared to the overall objective nor victory credited to the Iron Tyrant. The crested helm looked forward with the sight-adjustor twisting and fixing to the fortified stronghold beaten by IVth Legion artillery for four days- day in and day out before the White Scars arrived at their position as promised.
“I agree and ensure our total victory, my lord.” He affirmed after momentary calculations before accessing the main armour line’s commanding sergeant, “Brother Octavius, Assault Phase IV.” “Yes, Delegatus.” A gruff voice growled, immediately arousing the dreadhammer of the leading Typhon Heavy Siege Tank to launch with the brotherhood of six others along the line of rhinos.
The savagery of Purtabo’s siegework excelling and crushed the failing void shields at last. The evidence of the overloaded generators exploding underground and blossoming at the western and back of the stronghold. “Jetbike company III and VI advance, assault companies II and V assist.” Kallipides commanded while immediately boarding his own jetbike, the vicious armoured scimitar pattern painted of the legion’s tested iron and caution stripes.
In the far flanks, the two support squads of IV Legionnaire Sky Hunters sprang across the mine-pocketed fields with Rhino transports perched by full squads of assault marines following behind. The Consul-Delegatus sped between his tank-ranks while accessing full grand company’s vox-communications.
“Sons of Platos, we move for conquest! My brothers, we move for the honour of Olympia! My kin and cousins, we move for the glory of the Emperor and his Grand Imperium!”
The affirmatives and warcries signaling through the vox were thunderous and true while the foolish dregs of Mankind’s unbelievers tried to repel the coming fury of the Legiones Astartes. Uplifted by Xeno overseers, their technology were unnatural. Heretical, provoking the company’s tech-priests into ensuring the machine spirits and equipment were upmost preparation. Never had Kallipides beheld his warcraft so...absolute. They were one, even his jetbike growled a predator’s howl as it speared along the field!
“Battery fire to wall point 1-25-A!” Kallipides commanded while the rain of micro-blades were flying in air-slicing barrages. He felt a few of these deadly projectiles slice neglectable furrows at his armour plate’s skin. One cutting a few hairs off his crest, but the Consul held no fear in his heart. Fear was erosion to the ironclad warriors of Perturabo and had no place to the ascended.
Overhead, the fall of heavy tank fire crashed in the first barricade wall. The screams of the defenders drown by the thunderous explosion of cultivated metal and debris. Not even gore was apart of the ash and destruction! Immediately, Kallipides’ multi-melta cannons fired their spiteful projectiles through the visor-pierced smokescreen. The sounds of defense turrets exploding and a rolling tank caught into a blossom of heat-jagged shrapnel and innards. He didn’t blink when one of his hunters were nearly lost his whole arm in a piece of tread. The wounded Iron Warrior snarled, jarring off to the side in bloody anger to the inconvenience and loss.
The soldiers within were armoured with an odd appearance of carapace plate, moving into quick reaction as elite stormtroopers. Their xeno-weapons firing at the invaders, quickly sliced by drive-by blades and turned into gory mist by the arsenal of jetbike weaponry.
The stronghold was a city within, the first quarter the Iron Warriors to claim. The rhinos rolled in, stormbolters rattling in self-defense and troop bays opening to allow their full squads to march out. From their tops, assault marines were already blasting to high ground. “Iron Within! Iron Without!” They howled through their amplified voxes, chainaxes and crackling power fists coming to meet with the traitorous scum.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Reblog if you’re OK with people sending you asks about your OCs, ‘sonas or even about yourself
40K notes
·
View notes
Text
Send “human shield” for my muse to throw themselves on top of your muse to protect them.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Asks Enabled
I could have sworn I fixed that...and slowly getting back to this important project. Go on, ask away.
0 notes
Text
Interaction Meme
Send a symbol to get…
💭… my headcanons about the relationship our muses have (or could have, if we haven’t met yet!)
🍀… plot ideas for our muses
🌀 … a starter for our muses (bonus if you include a situation/theme!)
🔆… a drabble for our muses (bonus if you include a situation/theme!)
🎁… something I like about your muse/blog
🏃… someone else’s muse/blog I think you’d love RPing with and why
90 notes
·
View notes
Text
Send “Weaponmaster” and a weapon
askandrpcenter:
My muse will analyze that weapon and say what they like/dislike about it and if they’d use it or not.
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
The beauty of siegecraft - the Baneblade.
“It is Baneblade appreciation hour”
1K notes
·
View notes
Photo
Legionary obligation reblog.
Data collected by Perturabo
241 notes
·
View notes
Text
Kisses and Smooches
💕 My muse surprises yours with an unsuspecting kiss of passion.
💔 My muse declines a kiss from yours.
💞 My muse kisses yours, after having kissed another.
💖 My muse tries to tell yours of their romantic feelings through a kiss.
💝 My muse gives yours an accidental kiss.
💜 My muse tries to kiss yours,but clashes with their teeth instead.
💚 My muse kisses yours as an act of jealousy to get yours’ attention.
💙 My muse gives yours an emotionless kiss at the end of a relationship
💗 My muse leans in to kiss yours, but changes their mind in the last minute.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Kallipides looked at the graves as if trying to comprehend the concept. A long time, he has lived. Longer than this Blood Angel Successor. He wouldn't be surprised if longer than this colony that he saved. He still remembers the days of the Great Crusade, nothing but a young legionnaire among those of Terra's older and Olympia's chosen against a galaxy that dared to stand against the Emperor and his rising Imperium. Now...
Nothing but graves after graves. There were never enough human lives lost. The legiones astartes has failed in that. They were the ones to bleed and kill for the innocent. Despite the countless Iron Warriors who died in thankless wars and further insulted in the mockery of their cousin-legions and the later treachery that took almost all into the Warp's looming eye, Kallipides remembered. His frown scolded on his pale face.
"Very well." The Olympian finally said, grabbing a spade from one of his standing soldiers in exchange for the distinctive honour of holding his helmet. Stepping forward, he took to the very familiar work of digging. The veteran entourage looked amongst themselves, their sergeant - one who held an almost an aged handsomeness fit of an Imperial Fist -shrugged before joining. The others following their warsmith's example to dig graves for the Apothecary's fallen.
This is what it meant to be a leader, to be the exemplar and remind their charges and brothers the morality and brotherhood of humanity.
The War Over
The planet, so loud over the months now stood silent, it had beaten back the invaders and now celebrated in victory, but not all celebrated. A lone figure stood away from the town for his own devises. A shovel in hand and a sled full of wrapped bodies he carefully set them down and started digging. The suns continuing to rise above the planet.
Sepheran scooped out another shovelful of dirt from the soft ground, his helmet off to the side sitting on the cool ground. He was standing in a hole roughly six feet wide, three feet across, and two feet deep. Another scoop of dirt was flung behind him. To his right were four bodies. Each one wrapped up tight in bandages; one of them was 5′ 2″, 5′ 6″, 4′ 1″, 4′ 9″ it was impossible to tell anything else. Another shovelful of dirt off to the side.
His armor was almost unrecognizable as Apothecary armor. So covered in blood and dirt he looked more like a daemon then a grave digger, but here he was in the silent early morning day. Digging four graves. The guns that so often haunted him now silent. Everything was to silent. Another shovelful off to the side to the growing pile of dirt. He was tired of this, yet who else would do it, who else would remember?
@projironwithin
6 notes
·
View notes