I don't even know why I do these kind of things. I started with an idea for an absurdly bleak comic set at the end of the human race, then the rough idea of it was recycled for a Guard army, the0th Anomien Guard
then it became a question of taking those doctines and expanding them into characters. Conscripts? I was going to need an Independent Commissar to lead them, he needed fluff.
Thus the bleak, brutal and corrosive Commissar was born.
I needed officers, I threw 2 names on a page, Lieutenant- Colonel Mono and Major Null. My brain then began making characters, plotlines and incidents. An idea for Neon Genesis Evangelion-inspired Sisters of Battle were worked into the fluff, and Mono became an undercover Inquisitor hunting down the rogue Arger (read: Ikari). Null became an obvious Priest (an Onanist monk, a Faplain!).
I wanted to start up a marine force (or get someone else to) and an idea for Smiths-style Marines failed horribly. Then I listened to Metal Box, and got the idea for another chapter, that this thread is currently host to. Ideas proliferate like cancer. In excising them from myself, I give the rest of ye something to look at.
I've been here on 40k Online for just over a year now.
'Tis great to have a place where I can constructively spew all this junk and have someone think it's great.
I'm not going to lie, I'm not as into the models as much as I'm into the fluff, but you have to admit that an idea like that on paper can hardly be brought out via the limitations of modelling.
I'll take your point, I'm never going to be the cleanest sculptor or most detailed painter, I'm really only doing this for my own pleasure. It's very cathartic to get all this pain onto a page. I know it's toy soldiers (and can never forget that), but maybe, just maybe, I might be changing people's ideas and giving a bit of inspiration.
I thought I should get back into the aul' 40k after suffering a series of epileptic fits brought on by drugs and heavy drinking. I had several projects of larger scope than what's on the site, but they were going nowhere. I wanted to do something for fun and get away from what my life had become.
And I'm Irish, coming from a land of Beckett and Joyce I had to do the old sod
proud and write a load of crap.
As for army lists:1000 points themed Armour.1000 points mixed.
The pre-Heresy chapter is based off Recluse
The full motto is 'Terror's the Certainty, Evil the Putrid Excess of Self-Righteous and Self-Justifying Goodness.' Sounds great, means nearly nothing: Those who actively say they are in the Emperor's light are those with the least faith. The Recluses fought in the grey, for the grey, with the grey.
Rhino with horrible cut-up garbage spewed everywhere, really dregs of it, sick evil civilisation, the basic human rottenness, the sex that passes the censor. Physically painfull to look upon it, makes the eyes hurt to see it.
Be like a Rhino with 5 inch billboard coming out of a groove behind the doors on top, with small vertical battens to hold the removeable plasticard board in place.
make the Rhino tentative ectoplasmic flesh, conveying itself with rancid pseudopodia, like some manner of de- anxeityised amoeba, not controlled by organelles, just dividing and dividing and dividing.
Awful wretched things, the lowest forms of base pathic appeal, the diseased distorted cut-up of millions of atrophied, wasted lives. The pleas of innocents, sex traders, snatches of TV jingles and cavemen chants.
GOD WILL REWARD YOU FOR YOUR GOOD HEARTS.
Horrible echoes of machine and mainline, the awful accumulation of some new insectid life, given birth by the build up of knowledge. IT KNOWS. IT SEES.
raw bleeding piles...menstrual cramps....ahhhh, 3 fingers...wouldn't you?... millions could be wrong.... sacrificed to keep the god-barrel emperor clean and sweet smelling...And then that innocent little child would lead them right into the middle of a minefield where they would all get blown to smithereens, not all countries have uniforms that say SHOOT ME I AM THE BAD GUY...Scholfeemr cfeemt do not beslubber feemround.
he feem pop glocking on ur be-atch feemzz... he feem degree, feemnd he feem hot u like degreez...!!!1!!STRAP ELOHHTUOM YM NI deppaf I...it's probably a fetish for the forbidden. Who wants to look at panties when they are flashed all the time?...Choosing bad holes for all the little boys and girls.... MACHO LACRIMATIONS... No more broken hearts, just black eyes... Hidden smiles, fisting in aisles... Tea and smiles now, but in 2 weeks they have you trained to amphetamine parrot on sight of them, and ejaculate with shame whenever the Emperor thrusts a mile wide golden ethereal phallus into your ether. This is His light, and it shines from his Monumental white lighthouse, protoplasm spurting white-hot into the mouths of thousands.
International, transdimensional. It’s what they don’t tell you in the primer...I swear I once saw this Tyrannic organism with an orgone it used to batter tanks with. It beslubbered the dry way through reinforced rockcrete and plasteel and flooded acid bath on High Command, screaming ‘I COME’ in insectid dulcet tones, the Commissar neckshotting those who ran rather than drown in ant sperm...Hits on a re-roll, fails to wound.