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[Keita]

((

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Ah,  now I'm going to try and only comment on what I remember, it's been a while XD. The Laughing Gods agenda has always been "CLASSIFIED!" apart from making it's self survive. Now my necron fluff isn't up to par but I know that when there where more C'tan, they basically walked all over the 'old ones' (eldar) everywhere. the Laughing God didn't give a crap in till the C'tan started probing the webway (i think) and that basically meant 'OH SHI-' as they weren't affected by things that would confuse anything that waddled in there so the possibility of his discovery and possibly of the Black Libary where great, ergo, set plan to kill C'tan and make him look awesome!

))

*Yui pauses, watching the fleshy, 'thing', spin round and 'look' in her direction. She contimplates getting closer but is satisfied with this distance, she looks at what the tyrant is watching.*

[iceball3]

(Damn you guys are fast!)
*I wake up from my really deep slumber. Again. Crystals are gone, so good.*
"Wuh, damn. I need to stop falling asleep..."
*Gets up, grabs the stuff I brought into the hospital, and wanders to the LAB.*

[Vorthon]

*Nysa drags Vorthon out of the tunnels, glaring as she looks around the surrounding area.*

"What the Kraahking Fekk are you dipwads doing?!" she bellowed.

*She looks up at the Tyrant, drops Vorthon, grabs a loaded repeating crossbow, aims, and fires at Tyrant's the lashwhip, piercing it with about six bolts.*

"I blame you, ugly."

*Vorthon sits up, dusts himself off, gingerly rubs the dirt out of several scratch and bite marks, and smiles sheepishly.*

"Hey guys," he said meekly, "What'd I miss?"

[Something Evil]

*The Tyrant shakes its head in dismay.*

"Why, why always females and lashwhips? The tentaclerape demons are in another faction..."

*It lands, some distance away from Nysa, and discards the pained weapon, using its now free hand to aid its oratory endeavors.*

"On our previous meeting, I amiably present myself and grant a fast review of facts. Not only do you not grace me with your identities, but you threaten and insult me, Food. It saddens me. How many of the creatures you allegedly slew had more than one body? How many had armor meant to withstand tank weapons, kinetic and and energy alike?"

*A Lictor appears, looming over Nysa, its massive, mantis-like claws giving her a loose hug, spikes gently touching her clothes.*

"How many still could cause a gas embolism in your respiratory center, at will, from fifteen feet away? It certainly surprised the Blood Angel Librarian I once fought. Or perhaps I have misinterpreted your gesture. Is that how your species initiate a mating ritual?"

((Protip: look up Hive Tyrant and Lictor on the web, will you? A site named Lexicanum, or the Warhammer wiki are good places.))

[Tellemurius]

*shakes self off the floor*
"what the hell, i've been sleeping on the floor?"

[The Merchant Of Menace]

((Just to tell you, there's now an OOC thread for Fort WTF? http://www.bay12forums.com/smf/index.php?topic=75884.new#new))

[Keita]

*Yui continues to watch the tyrant, not sure on what it is.*

[Vorthon]

*Nysa laughs at the Tyrant*

"Oh, I don't have to worry about dying," she sneered, "Cloning and quantum entanglement are wonderful things. They'll just grow me a new body, and download my mind into it. And I know how to kill you hivemind types. Just keep glassing planets and blowing up ships and stations until there's no more left. Learned that lesson from the war my race waged with these rather nasty things called Nexinans. The Kraahking idiots killed any other form of life they came across. Proccessed them into semi-organic slurry. Shame, really. A variety of mind means a more diverse culture. But, of course you hivemind types can't appreciate that. And besides, where I come from, psionics are just quaint fiction. And intiating a mating ritual?*Nysa makes a mock-nauseous face* Give me a break. I'd rather cannibalize wimpy over their *She points at vorthon*."

[Phantom]

The Ravager wakes up from it's momentary coma and walks off to dump the tiberium on a nearby tree, slowly turning it into a Blossom Tree. No, the mutant kind. It then grabs the Nod Elite Cadre and throws him in the Gene Pool. It skitters back into the fort.

[Something Evil]

"It would still pay dividends in killing you, then, as I suppose the technology to recover your flesh is not available locally. At least it would increase the (it rummages its mind for the appropriate term)... opportunity cost of your return. I could also simply shred your body, one layer of tissue at a time, then heal you and regrow you flesh, again and again until I get bored of your screams.
Furthermore, it would be quite interesting to meet these so-called Nexinans, if there are any left. I believe that they would be quite... tasty."

"We do not do what we do for cultural or politic reasons. It is simply a function of our existence. We Eat, we Move. You consume animal meat, do you not? Do you ever bother with what interesting half-thoughts your future lunches share with one-another?"

"And as for gassing, (it says in gleeful tones) we would be thrilled. We are always curious to see what poisons others can devise, just so we can turn them against their creators. Then we drink their oceans, siphon the atmosphere, strip-mine every trace of carbon and silica and drain the planetary core of heat, leaving a tiny, cold lump of rock. We hardly bother with other's ships. Too small."

[Vorthon]

"Yes, but you have to move between worlds somehow, right? And the Nexinans are gone, dead, no longer a presence in the universe. You're a blight, a disease, a pervesion of life. You should be removed." she snarled, glaring at the Tyrant.

"What she said!" said Vorthon, not getting up from where he sat.

[Something Evil]

"Survival of the fittest. If these Nexians perished, they were either frail or foolish. We can not afford to be either. And as for movement, do you truly believe we have learned nothing from the dozen galaxies we Ate so far? The distance between stars is overcome in what, for you, would pass for a catnap. The empty void between the galaxies takes more, but we have patience."
"And again you insult me, insult us. We are life itself, streamlined, anything that might tie it down discarded. We persevere, and ensure our survival with no regard to anything else - the very precept of life. Many have tried to stop us, few have succeeded, none completely. In the face of annihilation, we cling on. A lone, wounded 'gaunt can rip apart a Space Marine if given quarter. And in sewers on vast, overpopulated Imperial worlds, there are vast hatcheries, immense broods born of splinter-fleets thought long destroyed, wait; biding their time."

*You look up, and notice that in the exchange, the Lictor vanished.*

[Vorthon]

"Life is not meant to be dominated by one thing, it is meant to be a delicate balance between a vast variety of things. What happens when you're the only thing left? What happens when the universe is old, the last stars are dying? When matter itself finally breaks down into a sea of low-energy photons and neutrinos? All you've done will have been for nothing. Face it, you're an abomination."

[Something Evil]

"Life always is one thing: itself; And it constantly feeds and fights against itself and the things beyond it. Variation is a simple illusion, environmental niches its only cause.
A creature may specialize in riding the massive currents in a gas giant to the surface, taking, from what passes for its atmosphere, inorganic matter, and light from the system star. Another may live in minuscule tunnels within the ice of cold, dark worlds, taking energy from geological activity.
Likewise, we have forms specializing in moving undetected, to pounce upon strategic objectives, such as artillery, and rip them to shreds in seconds before vanishing again. Others are mere fodder, exhausting an enemy and depleting ammunition while others still land the killing blow unmolested. If there is an opening, life will flood it."

"And if we do live to be the only ones left when the universe dies, what does it matter? We have lived for as long as conceivably possible. What other achievement could trump that? What could possibly remain, from anything, when the curtain closes on an empty auditorium?"

"We are abominations to you because you fear us, and turn that fear into hate. It is a good trick. It can ensure survival, and your fear is well-grounded. We see you as Food, for that is what you oft become to us. But often we need to see far deeper and learn the way you think and function, even if only to better emerge from your cellar and rip you limb from limb."

*It leans over Nysa, its soft whispers grating against her mind.*

"What do you see?"

[Vorthon]

*Vorthon gets up and walks towards the Tyrant*

"What's left when the curtain closes on an empty auditorium?" said Nysa, glaring at the Tyrant, "Head to another auditorium where the curtain is opening. We have the technology to travel between universes. I will admit that it is hazardous, but it works. Sometimes."