>>16546488
it's definately the hat

>>16546488
whoa. your boyfriend sounds like a pretty cool guy.

A Commissar calling? What a waste of his valuable time.

>In before someone writes a story about a Commissar dumping his girlfriend of 4 years over the phone to go find himself on some backwater hiveworld.

I'm going to keep this tab open and refresh periodically in case this happens

>>16546488
hahahaha

>>16546488
I'm kinda confused how he couldn't find himself, could he not find a mirror?

>>16546488
Damnit, I'll write it but I can't do it now. Calculus does not look kindly upon lack of sleep.

I find your OP image to be most amusing.

B..but all commissars like boys.

>>16546488

Post properly time-stamped tits and I will write one. Provide email and I will make it as explicit as you want.

No furry shit.

Hm... I could write it.

>In before someone writes a story about a Commissar dumping his girlfriend of 4 years over the phone to go find himself on some backwater hiveworld.

So doing this, when I get home from work. Fuck studying for my exam!
Only question is whether to play it straight or go for teh lulz.

>>16546551

how cheezy do you want it?

>>16546585
ALL THE CHEESE

NN>>16546488
You forced him to watch "Eat Pray Love" now did you?

also, do you want to be the possibly dashing heroine?
Hell, just tell us what you want, and give me a few minutes, and on the fly writefagging can begin

I could write one up.

Which would you prefer,

A Commissar like Cain?

Or a Commissar like Gaunt?

And the love interest? Who should she be? Guardswoman? Tech-Priestess? Regular Female Citizen of the Imperium?

>Seems like someone beat me to it, but I must continue on!

>>16546488
It is your fault.

If you loved him enough he wouldn't have left you in the first place instead he would have found himself in you.

>>16546620
look at you op, two writers wanting to cheer you up. NOW MAKE WITH THE DETAILS.

>>16546607
>on the fly writefagging can begin

Indeed!

Bathed in the light of the early morning, Commissar Garan arose from the bed. Alsbet stirred awake, watching him dress, feeling again those desires that led to a night of unspeakable passion.
Garan sat at the edge of the bed to slip on his boots. Alsbet, giving in to desire, raced her hands around his rippled frame. Her breath and lips played along the nape of his neck to his ear. After a playful bite she whispered, "Don't go."

He turned in her arms and kissed her deeply, forcing her back onto the bed. A hand traced her body, until it reached her neck, where with sudden ferocity, it clamped down.

Choking for breath, Alsbet flailed helplessly, until the hellgun came into her view. BLAM.

"Damn heretic. Trying to make me late for my duty to the emprah."

Commissar Garan stood, straightened his gig line, put on his jacket, then walked out.

>>16546625
>in you

I bet he's going to get some really hot tail. Indian chicks are animals.

right, well, in the absence of anything from our saddened op, I'm starting. OP if you read this, please, tell us what you want.

Tell you what, I'll give you the big twist but you have to come up with start and ending.

"Just the Commissar Handsome took the young miss techpriestess Simple in his strong, masculine arms and look deep into her eyes. The young Techpriestess glaze back, looking pasted his ruggedly handsome face and deep into into his tender blue eyes and that moment knew that while the Commissar had sent millions to their deaths, he was kind and caring soul.
"Miss Simple." Said Commissar Handsome in strong, yet smooth voice, like that of the sweetest chocolate. "I have been given orders to ship out to Cadia in the morning, but I have decided to disobey them!"
"But Commissar Handsome" Said Techpriestess Simple. "You'll be branded a Heretic!"
"Yes and I don't care, for I love you with all my heart! I knew it from the day I met you. Your kind words have healed the sorrowful wounds upon my heart. Let us marry and live in my castle planet left to me by my parents."

"Stop Miss Simple!" Said Magos Abs-of-Steel, his polished abs of steel shining in the moonlight. "You can't marry him! For I love you! And what's more, that Commissar killed your father!"

"But my father was killed by a Carnifex!" Said Miss Simple.

"Yes, and Commissar Handsome is THAT CARNIFEX!"

Thanks for taking this on guys, (and girls) you're the best!

>>16546606

Man I wish it was that, at least it would make some sort of stupid sense. I think what happened is that he met this 50 year old woman at his work who had traveled all over the world and he was totally bought into it. I guess he wanted to do the same shit or something and I was HOLDING HIM BACK even though I wouldn't have really cared if he wanted to travel. Maybe he was boning her or something.

>>16546607
>>16546585
Oh I'm not too picky, It would be nice to have it loosely based on the picture I posted since I really like Techpriests too. Just make him SUPER MANLY AND DASHING and maybe speak french and save the princess from the bad guys~

Commissar Rogal "The Bull" Hephastus was a man amongst men. Standing almost as tall as an astares and build like a leman russ, his commanding presence inspired all around him. A voice that boomed just as easily barking orders as it did in laughter would sing out in bass tones so rich that slaneeshi whores had stopped to hear him speak. With dark hair, eyes like unpainted ceramite, and a chisled jaw, many wondered why he had not been picked up by the propaganda department decades ago

>>16546697

ON IT! WRITEFAGGOTRY AWAAAAYYYY!!!!

Give me half an hour.

>>16546655
Good luck finding a decent looking indian gal though. Among a hundred indian women you'll find at least one or two who are hot.

>manages to sneak in her entire blog post in the guise of a /tg/ related thread

>>16546697
Done :3 With pleasure and relish

Many times Rogal had been approached, not only by the department propaganda, but civillian pictmakers and even an convent of sisters, but each time he politely declined. He knew his place, he was just a tool of the emprah, to smite the heathen, cleave the xeno, and crush the traitor, that was his mission.

Or so he said in public. The real reason Rogal never left his post, was his burning need to help his fellow man. He had been assigned to a combat engineering battalion, and had seen how much good they would do not only in combat, but out of it. Rebuilding homes for the survivours, defending feild hospitals, truly they were doing the emprahs work

So Rogal stayed with his battalion, his huge frame allowing him to help out where he could, broad shoulders to carry supplies, nimble fingers to help wire defensive mines as well as rewiring an errant power coupling under the eyes of one of the many enginseers attached to the battallion.

It was during the rebuilding of a backwater town, on a backwater world, of no real significance aside from the few thousand lives that had been lost defending it from orkish raiders, that Rogal had found himself with another calling.

>>16546488
>go find himself on some backwater hiveworld.

I have a friend whose ex did this. Went off to India to find himself. Got mugged.

>>16546695
OH MAN this made me laugh so hard. Fucking amazing.

>>16546620

It's a good thing I didn't pick up this request because when the OP said "with Commissars" my mind immediately leapt to a battlefield camaraderie pushed to something much more in the bloodied, desperate heat of the trenches.

I think there's something wrong with my brain.

With a grunt, the fireteam hefted the heavy wooden beam that would form the main support for the mess hall that was under construction. Rogal grinned as he doffed his hat and wiped his forehead with the back of his arm. The men were making good time, the roof would be up by nightfall, and the men would be able to eat a good mess cooked meal, the first one in a matter of months. The Orkish raiders had all but been driven off, but the occasional band would launch a harrassing strike, orkish bloodlust was a feindish thing. Returning his cap to his head, Rogal boomed, "TITUS, MIND THE CABLE, LEFT BOOT"

The fire team halted, titus looking to his feet. Infront of his left boot sparked a live powercable, which had he trodden on it, would have thrown him across the room.

Commisar Manwich quickly dropped his pants and shoved his =][= CENSORED FOR HERETICAL CONTENT =][= into her =][= CENSORED FOR HERETICAL CONTENT =][= and moaned as her =][= CENSORED FOR HERETICAL CONTENT =][= grasped his =][= CENSORED FOR HERETICAL CONTENT =][= like a guardsman holding a lasgun. "By the Emperor" she sobbed "please =][= CENSORED FOR HERETICAL CONTENT =][= my =][= CENSORED FOR HERETICAL CONTENT =][= with your =][= CENSORED FOR HERETICAL CONTENT =][=". No the commisar said pulling his =][= CENSORED FOR HERETICAL CONTENT =][= out of her dripping =][= CENSORED FOR HERETICAL CONTENT =][=. "I am leaving to serve the Emperor on the planet India, also I am breaking up with you because you are annoying and sort of fat".

THE END

>>16546783

Women do serve in combat roles in many IG regiments.

Failing that, what red-blooded woman doesn't love to shlick to gay homosex?

Marcia gazed at the Commissar in his work, as he rallied the troops. He told stories of his heroism to inspire them, adding comedy here and there. He told them the story of how he once defeated a Chaos Space Marine single handily. She thought of how it must feel to have that much responsibility and not go mad with it. Commissar Ray was respected and loved by those under his command. Marcia held her wrench in her hand, continuing to be lost in his watery blue eyes as spoke. The Vehicle Depot from which she worked in was atop a hill. She had a clear line of sight of the barracks from here. Just the way she liked it.

"Marcia!" yelled Grenor, basically her boss. Grenor had a white robe unlike Marcia's red one. The man was a control freak, constantly watching over Marcia as she worked. "I told you to recharge these laspacks an hour ago." Marcia rolled her eye and lens, then she said, "I'll get to it Grenor." Grenor scoffed audibly and said, "When? When will you get to it!?!"

Before she could react, Commissar Ray walked into the Vechicle Depot. He presence had a aura of authority unlike any other. "I heard yelling, what seems to be the problem?" Ray said. Grenor pointed towards Marcia, "It's her! She never listens to a fu-" Ray cut Grenor off, holding up his hand in front of his mouth. Ray said calmly, "I will not have such language around a lady." Marcia almost melted.

>Hows that? Want more, I just want to see if you like it OP.

For some reason I have the creeping suspicion that this is a troll thread.

Pic related if it is.

Titus grinned, "Thank you, Sir"
The team shuffled sideways away from the cable, before heading forward once more,
"TECHPREIST? TECHPREIST!" Rogal boomed, looking around for a red robed adept, such hazards needed to be avoided.
There was a soft cough behind him, and Rogal turned. Looking at it's boots, evidently chastised, stood a diminuative techpreist. The top of it's head barely reached Rogals chest, as he looked down at it's hooded head.
"Techpreist," He began, his tone warm, but firm, "who was responsible for the cabling in the mess?"
The robed figure, mumbled quietly, barely audible above the sound of construction,
"Say again?" Rogal commanded
"Me, Sir."
A soft, melodic voice responded, heavy with shame, "I apologise profusely, and will suffer any punishment you see fit."
A pair of green glass orbs looked up Rogal, set in an elegant, blushing face.

(brb dinner)

>>16546697

if your theory is true, I'll need to redo my top 5 "derp reasons to break up", op.

lurking for the incoming writefag stories :D

>>16546802
Its great, I'm loving it so far! Please continue :)

All of the stories in here are pretty good and hilarious. Thanks again you guys! If I could send baked goods through the internet I would because I'm making a batch of chocolate chip cookies right now AND I AM GOING TO EAT THE WHOLE TRAY

best thread on /tg/ right now.

>>16546857
Glad you like it, but it's getting real late. I'll try and make the next story real nice.

Grenor was speechless. The look of surprise on his face was priceless. He replied shortly after the Commissar silencing him, "Commissar Gregory Ray! I will say any fucking thing I-" Grenor was pistol whipped by the hulking bolt pistol Commissar Ray held in his hand. "I'm sorry, what did say?" From the look on Grenor's face it seemed he didn't even know what he said. Grenor collected himself best he could, "I am a member of the Adeptus Mechanicus. I shall be treated with respaahh don't hit me!" Ray faked Grenor out with a attempted pistol whip. "That's a little better," Ray said in gratitude of his subduing of Grenor. He then asked a question direction towards Marcia, "Oh and who may you be?"

She didn't know what to say, clearly he was talking to her. But why, there was plenty of women in the regiment, and a few young privates who's face's hadn't gone to hell yet. Marcia pondered for a moment whether this was a dream or not, but then she said hesitantly, "I'm, oh, I'm Marcian Queen. And and, who may you, be?" Ray smiled, his watery eyes practically glowing in the light of the depot lights, "I am Commissar Ray, and, may I ask you to join me for dinner tonight, I'm terribly lonely." Marcian nodded, trying to cover up her eagerness to reply. She said to herself, "Yes, yes yes yes how many times do I have to say it yes! Thank the Omnissiah!"

>It still good? Not going down in quality am I?

>OP, oh OP, should I just keep writing the next paragraph(s)

>>16547004
Its great, my pants are already off!

>>16546857
You should set aside a cookie for /tg/ and not eat it.

Take a picture of our cookie.
/tg/, do we want our cookie dipped in milk?

>>16547050

we want our cookie half-dipped in chocolate and allowed to cool, THEN dipped in milk

>>16547084
Don't make unreasonable demands! It makes it more likely for us to not get our cookie!

>Goddamnit captcha, why do you have to ask for æ

>>16547046
>Not a everyday response but it is 3:15 over here so whateves.

The next few hours were almost torturous. Marcia had cleaned her robe, oiled her joints, bathed, took a breath mint, clean her robe again, just so she could get the damn engine grease out. Finally once she ran out of things to do, a hour or so passed after the Commissar asked her out to dinner, she decided she might as well charge those lasclips. That should keep Grenor off her back for a while. Then he strode in, Commissar Ray, his black attire of his office looks as clean and crisp as ever. He walked over to Marcia and bowed. "I after cashing in on some favors, I have collect some wonderful grox stake for tonights dining."

It was all the same to Marcia, material food. She had grown accustomed to just eating ration bars, and her taste buds had slowly died out from tastelessness. For a good hour they both just sat and looked at each other across the table. Both seeming to enjoy each others meals. Private Jorey and Private Relin watched from the windows of the Commissar's bunker.

"Nothing is happening man," Relin said to Jorey. Jorey was a young woman, with long silky auburn hair. She hadn't seen combat yet, and neither had Relin, but when they met it was love at first sight. "Look, all the Commissar ever talks about is this cog girl. Just watch," she said, snapping back at her boyfriend.

The Commissar looked up, and sighed inaudibly. Then his eyes met with Marcia's. He said, "Perhaps we should secure some privacy," If Marcia was paying any attention to his words instead of being lost in his deep voice, she would have choked on her stake.

>Dear god I feel my balls retracting, continuing.

I can barely keep my eyes open I might go to bed. OP, will write a damn book if you let me. Seriously chapters and shit.

Make this same thread tomorrow, I'll repost what I got here and I'll continue the story. I mean that is if you care.

>OP Oh OP, answer me, hey that rimes.

I don't know, I'm thinking of heading of to bed. If there is anyone who cares about my shitty writing please do speak up, I'm usually shy about my writing.

>I'm shy cause I'm no good. Oh woe is me, self pity, and self pity.

Well I'm off to bed. It's kinda clear I just embarrassed myself.

Peace!

>>16547202
Oh golly please Right more! I will love you for ever if you just wright more soon! D:

Techpriestess Katherine finished her prayer to the Leman Russ' machine spirit as her mechadendrites danced about the venerable tank's engine, completing the last needed repairs. Standing atop the war machine, her orders to the crew were suddenly eclipsed by the deafening sound of an earthshaker round detonating nearby. As her augmented form fell toward the ground, something caught her from behind, rotating slightly in response to the unexpected weight of her bionics.

Commissar Fabio gazed into the techpriestess' augmented eyes, a second explosion whipping his long, elegant hair back and around his glorious commissar's hat. For a moment, Katherine forgot the weakness of flesh as unaugmented portions of her brain processed dim memories recalling this idealized situation. His body a temple to the emperor, Commissar Fabio swept back the hood of his captive lover's robes and pressed his lips against her's.

-this shitty story brought to you by fabiomakeseverythingbetter corp.

>>16547244
Nooo! Don't feel bad about your writing! It was fantastically silly. So chin up and write more of this stuff otherwise your going to leave us disappointed.

I'll continue then. Peace!

Really I'm going to bed now, bye. I guess just make this thread again tomorrow and I'll arrive.

>>16547244
Aw poo missed you by a few minutes! Just when it was getting so good too! GIRLS CAN GET BLUEBALLED TOO YOU KNOW!

Goodnight, I hope this thread is still around tomorrow for more delicious commissar action! Thank you so much again!

>>16546488
That's my fetish...
But I am not a Writefag, but a lowly Drawfag..
Enjoy the shitty drawing I did one DH game.

>>16547202
I loved your story :< Please more when you get up.

>>16547313
Well, I just discovered this thread. Unfortunately, my pain pills kicked in. So I'm barely coherent enough to read, let alone write you some decent cheese. If this is here tomorrow, I'll cheese you up good.

>>16547346
This game of yours needs to be spoken of in greater detail.

anyone who has to go away to "find themselves" is invariably a douchebag.

>>16547576
My ex broke up to find herself.
Guess where she was?
Underneath a line of guys, apparently. Twenty guys later she's "thinking she made a mistake."

Similar thing happened to a girl I knew. Her boyfriend broke up "to find himself." He drove to New York, got addicted to coke, and banged shittons of whores. Still doing that, I think.

>>16547595
So... "finding yourself" is code for "I wanna fuck strangers?"

>>16547601
Yep. If someone says that to you, consider them lost and to be forgotten. Don't bother with people like that.

What

>>16547601
It could also be a whole fear of commitment deal. Not always, though. Sometimes people just want to see the world. "Finding yourself" is hardly the phrase you want to use though. Go places, see and experience new things, sure.

>>16547619

By the Emperor....
Has someone set up a network of troll threads? Bravo....

>>16546517
use fucking scripts man

it's 2011

google 4chanx

>>16547666
I really don't see why people keep calling this a "troll thread" I thought trolling was presenting an obviously ignorant or flawed argument to get others to argue. This thread just seems kinda like a regular drawthread but with writing. Is there something else going on on /tg/ that I've missed out on?

Techpreistest Octavia was one of those cases where genius overruled just about everything. A mind like a monoscalple, but prone to flights of fancy, absentmindedness and a sometimes crippling shyness, she was nevertheless the darling girl of the battalion. Every tank bore an image of her on the side, and her expert skills on its parts. Petite, her augments hidden expertly under her robes, Octavia now stood dwarfed in Rogals shadow. Her augmented eyes drank in every detail of his form, the jaunty angle of his hat, the warm smile on his face, shoulders broad enough for her to lounge across, she felt her potential coil tingle with extra energy, produced, she noted somewhere in the back of her mind, from her body jumping to a fully excited state

>>16547666
I think it's more likely that this one is legit and that one may be playing off it.

Her scan continued down his massive frame, the perfectly fitted carapace armour around his chest, adorned in onyx and gold, his shirtsleeves rolled and tight against his sculpted biceps. A faint network of scars formed a patina on his forearms, his hands strong, as he dusted the front of his uniform. An errant thought ran through Octavia's mind, causing another jolt to her potentia coil, and a whimper to escape her lips,
"Techpreistess? Are you alright?" Rogal asked, stooping to get closer.
Octavia nodded, managing a quiet "Yes, Sir. Just a slight overcharge to my potentia coil. I will see to the cabling issue at once."
Gathering her robes around her, Octavia hurried off, her vision taking a memnorpict of the commissar, for future reference. At the bottom of the image, hastly added to the discription was "Subject appears to be blessed with proportion, must investigate further."

Rogal stood there for a moment, watching the red robed figure dissapear once more into the bustle of quickly forming camp. He sighed, and returned to the huge tree trunk he had been sawing, his hands taking up the blade once more. Brute strenght saw the log turned into planks, the planks into boards, and skilled hands saw those boards made into benches. Rogal smiled to himself, admiring his handiwork, he was truly blessed by the emprah to not only be able to defeat his enemies, but to care for his children too.
A mechanical howl tore Rogal from his thoughts, as the sounds of construction quickly became the sounds of combat

The Stormboyz dropped out of the afternoon sun like an earthshaker round, spreading chaos where they landed. Lasguns were brought to bear, and the cacophony of war once again filled Rogals ears,.
"MEN" he roared, his saw in one hand, las pistol in the other, "LET NONE SURVIVE"
The cries of the battallion filled his ears, as Rogal charged forward, bellowing in rage, these foul xeno destroying all he and his men were working to create. A Stormboy took this roar as a challange, and with a great WAAAGH charged back, igniting his rocket with a howl.
Rogal may have been big, but was far from slow, ducking low, he buried the saw in the ork's howling maw, before turning as the greenskin overshot him, and sending a wellplaced lasbolt into the rocket on its back. The Orkish missle bucked, rocketing skywards, before exploding, tearing rocket and owner apart in a blaze of promethium. The men cheered, as the greenskins were beaten back, and rogal served the now ruined mess.

Octavia reeled, this was not what was supposed to happen. She staggered away from the generator she had been working on, disorientated by the lights and noise. Her augments struggled to process all she was experiencing, as she huddled behind an overturned supply crate. She had no weapons in her body,and loathed the idea of xenos blood on her mechandrites. All around her, chaos reigned, Octavia curled her mechandrites around herself protectively, and began to repeated the litany of mechanical preservation.

Her whispers were suddenly joined by another voice, "Allo, what we got 'ere"
Octavia's emerald green eyes went wide, and she screamed.

Rogal's head snapped around, years of training kicking in. Supply crate, ork, human in danger. His long legs bounded, as he roared in anger, unleashing a fusilade of lasbolts at the ork, the ruby shots pinging from the xeno's bolted armour, or just burning out. Rogal swore, throwing the now depleted pistol to the side, and grabbing one of the benches he had made, he lept, swinging the solid timber seat with all his considerable might. Indigenous hardword splintered, as the ork was beaten back. Now between the supply crate and the ork on the ground, Rogal stood, his chest heaving, a ragged wooden plank in his hand, "FOUL XENO'S, HOW DARE YOU PROFANE THIS PLACE" He bellowed, belting the ork across the head, "YOU DO NOT." another swipe at the ork rewarded him with the sound of bone shattering in the arm thrown up to protect an ugly face, "HARM THESE PEOPLE," The next swing threw the jaw to a disgusting angle, "YOU WILL NOT" the ork whimpered, as the plant drove into its ribcage, "HARM THESE PEOPLE" the plank shattered, sending splinters flying. Grabbing the Ork's dropped choppa, a huge, ramshackle abomination of an axe, Rogal hefted it, his muscles bulging at his sleeves, "AGAIN." And with a roar of effort, he buried the choppa up to the hilt in the ork's torso.

Silence. As silent as a freshly ended battlefield could be at least. Men and women lay wounded or dying, moans and cries carried hauntingly through the air. Rogal stood, hunched, covered in blood and dust, his great chest heaving. He swung his head to look at the crate behind him, wondering what had gotten the greenskin's attention. That scream had been chilling, never before had he been affected like that. He crouched down, looking into the darkness of the crate. A pair of emerald green lights stared back at him. A sob, quiet at first, became louder and wracking. Covered in dust, her mechandrites limp, Rogal gently pulled Octavia from the crate, lifting the surprisingly heavy techpreistess from the darkness. Cradling her in his arms, Rogal stood, bellowing for a medic, as he carried his red robed bundle as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

>>16547928
Everything about this is wonderful

BOYFRIEND?

WHAT ARE YOU? SOME SORT OF HOMOGAY LADY MAN WOMAN CREATURE?

Octavia's mind reeled, the greenskin, its grotesque teeth, the stentch of death and unwashed fungus, still played through her head, no matter how many times she tried to delete the memory, how many instances of the replay she closed, it wouldn't leave her alone. She sat on a table, her legs dangling, a mug of hot recaf in her cool metal hands, her mechandrites, busying themselves with trying to clean her robes, powered by nervous energy. Beside her, leaning on the table, stood Rogal, still covered with dust and thick brackish xeno's blood. He stood, jaw set, as he watched the clean up, work benches righted, damaged tools set aside for repairs, as the work began once more. Rifles were set aside, tools were picked up, and a cold, somber mood set over the to be constructed mess. With an angry grunt, rogal pushed himself from the table, and returned to the wood pile. In his anger, he didn't notice he was followed. Grabbing an axe, he selected the biggest hardwood log he could find, set it on the block, and began to hack into it.

Octavia followed the hulking commissar, obeying some deep rooted instinct buried in her fleshbrain. She tried to distract herself from the memories of the ork by trying to find out a reason for this, but all that did was push the movies past the ork, and to when she had seen the commissar. Her mind now tried to reconcile what she had seen, how he had moved, such strenght such raw power, used to destroy something so utterly, now, being used to create. She found a stump to sit on, and began watching the commissar once more. Her mind noted how his axe swing was flawless, perfectly done to minimize wasted energy, and maximize chopping power, how the muscles moved in his arms with each swing. She watched as he removed his Armour and his shirt, leaving him clad in a thin white singlet, now wet with perspiration. Her potentia coil surged to life, and her mechandrites began to primp and preen, various unexplained commands being logged to her memnorbanks,

Oh my god this thread is amazing.

I offer /tg/ ALL of my ladyboners.
All of them.

So, OP, how long has your boyfriend been dating India for?

>Women
>On /tg/

I bet she plays Tyranids.

>>16548086
Funny story, because I actually knew somone called India.

Short, kinda cute girl from Yorkshire. Quiet and shy as fuck, would trigger the "MAI WAIFU" response from all of /tg/'s white knight population most likely.

Rogal grunted with extertion. Chopping wood in full carapace was a dumb idea. Combat was one thing, he was fuel'd by adrenaline, and the slight heat problem was nothing compared to knowing he would stay in one peice. Now however, it was just uncomfortable. He undid the straps at his side, and pulled the armour from his chest, dropping it beside him with a thud. His shirt was peeled off next, not for any heat reasons, but the thick, sticky orkish ichor that had soaked into it was worse than any sweat. his shirt was dropped atop the armour with a wet slap, as Rogal stretched his neck from side to side. A breeze blew, taking the stench of combat away, replacing it with the sweet smell from the fields to the south. Hefting his axe once more, Rogal hewed into the wood, letting the rhythmic action sooth his nerves. He hacked the log into a pair of manageable pieces, and lifted one over his shoulder. To rogal, this was nothing major, his father had done the same, as had his father before him. The men however, saw the commissar hefting over his shoulder a log that would have taken three of them to lift. Octavia just sat, and watched, before following Rogal silently back to his workbench.

>>16548131
>Short, kinda cute girl from Yorkshire. Quiet and shy as fuck, would trigger the "MAI WAIFU" response from all of /tg/'s white knight population most likely.

I seriously doubt she's that cute. I doubt anybody is that cute.

As the pair made their way back across the mess hall floor, octavia looked back to where she had been trapped. The crate had been righted, refilled with whatever it had been filled with, (nails, box of, 1000, pin head, her mind absently noted) when something took her fancy. This fancy of course, was highlighted by multiple notes flashing across her vision, as she spied the commissars hat sitting beside the crate. Covered in dust, like everything else in the mess, looking worse for wear, but never the less, still commanding, Octavia glided over and picked it up in her hands. Mechandrites moved gently forward, dusting and patting the hat, picking woodchips and splinters from its fabric. She turned to look at the commissar once more, standing at his table, the muscles in his back rippling as he sawed the logs into planks.

Beta white knights flock to a "woman" once again

>>16548195
G.I.R.L.? Really? The internet's all smoke and shadow anyway; so there's no reason to disbelieve anyone unless it costs you something. Suspending your disbelief for even bad liars is fun if there's no risk involved.

>>16548160
I said "kinda cute." Out of all of the girls in that clique she came third and also had dyed her hair dark red as they're wont to do. Bit of a shame, did wonder what it looked like naturally. The shy and quiet stuff is almost an understatement though and she was almost impossible to understand - that yorkshire accent was STRONG. She barely was capable of saying a thing to anyone for the first couple of weeks we knew each other.

If that description is really enough to make you go "hnnng" or whatever, I won't ruin it by telling you what she was like when the other guys got her drunk and high on MDMA on two seperate occasions.

>>16548243
>british
>drunk
Why am I not suprised.

>>16548243
Screw that, MDMA times are always good times. My brother got crowdsurfed into a bin thanks to it.

>>16548187

This needs to continue. The Emperor Wills it.

Romance between two Imperial citizens is anything but Heresy! Until it's heretical.

How do you know when it gets there? That's the thrill!

Rogal sawed. His mind wandered, as he said his prayers to the emprah to guard the souls of the men who had died that day. Casualties had been light, considering, but a loss was a loss, and six men had died, for humanity to continue, and in defense of their fellow man. He continued to saw, letting his anger at the orks turn cold and focused. This is why he hated the Xeno's. He continued to saw, near oblivious to the world around him.

Octavia pushed herself up onto another table with her mechandrites, still holding the hat in her hands. Again, her eyes drank in information about the Commissar, her augmented lungs feeding her information of how he smelled of sweat and sawdust, her eyes documenting how the muscles moved in his body, and how efficient he was. His feet planted, he used his upper body as a reciprocating weight, rocking back and forth with the saw, the light of the afternoon sun lighting his muscled frame. He was sweating, which would impair his efficiency. She looked around, her eyes scanning with a strange sense of urgency, for a thermos or a canteen. She spotted one behind her on the table, and a mechandrite lanced out to grab the metal container. Hat in her hands, and canteen wrapped in her thermos, she approached the hulking Commissar at his workbench

I always wondered why there weren't any cheesy romance novels set in the grimdark of the far future. No creepy /tg/ shit, but like any of those paperback ones at kiosks, but the people and setting set into the 41st millennium.

We're already catering to the little kids with their homoerotic marines bulging out of their armour and spraying the enemy with their overly large phallic weapons, so why no forbidden love between a dashing commissar and an inexperienced eldar maiden between the raging fires of war for the ladies?

Nope, if it's for a grrl, it has to be pink, fuzzy and small. Maybe set to vibrate, like a Commissar Cain dildo.

>>16548160
The problem is that she's real. She's a waifu as long as she's an image or observed from afar, but once she becomes a real person with real needs, who bleeds out of her vag every few weeks, has a BO and basically isn't a picture perfect being that satisfies the creep's every desire without him even asking for it, it's no good.

OP: Where in Yorkshire?

>>16548361
>dissing the concept of a waifu

I bet you're an athiest too.

Rogal grabbed the plane, and started smoothing the rough edges of the planks. wood shavings tumbled, and he inhaled deeply. The scent of sawdust had a special place in his heart. He set down the plain and grabbed a different saw, more suited to delicate tasks, and began to cut the dovetails into the end of a plank. He needed no pencil, or ruler, his eyes having been long accustomed to working without them.

Octavia coughed politely, hoping to gain the attention of the towering commissar. His back to her as he continued to work, she noticed how he used no marking implements, yet his cuts were as straight and accurate as any machine. She coughed again, still no response. Gingerly, a mechandrite reached out, pausing before tapping the commissar on the back. The muscles under the thin cotton were solid as ceramite, as Rogal paused from his work. Placing the saw down, he turned, looking side to side, before looking down.

>>16548380

Someone say Waifu?

>>16548374
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ivNJS24UA2M

Rogal looked down once more into those emerald green orbs, and couldn't help but smile. Looking up at him, hat in her hands like a gelt novel urchin, stood the techpreistess. Letting out a sigh, he felt his anger melt away, as Octavia offered him his cap.
"Your hat, Sir." Octavia said, "It was on the ground and getting covered in dust, which i beleive would violate your uniform code, which would require to you be punished for sloth." Octavia continued, as upon her augmented vision, a copy of the commissarial dress code scrolled by. "In addition, you appear to have been perspiring, which if not tended to would result in a drop in effcientcy. As a result, i have brought you this canteen of water. Please take it."
The mechandrite slithered out offering the canteen to Rogal, somehow managing to give off the same awkward if submissive vibe as its owner.

Rogal couldn't help but grin. The techpriestess obviously had never been in this situation before, and Rogal recognised the after effects of shock. "Thank you, Preistess," He said, as he took his hat, and d went to dust it. Pausing, Rogal inspected his cap, it was already clean, pristinely so. Gently, he placed it on the crate beside his workbench, "Much obliged."

>>16548380
You make it sound like I never found a fictional woman desirable.

I was playing Alpha Protocol a while back, and I have to tell you, either the creators have no idea how women work or have little respect for the game's audience. Seriously, every single woman in the game is within two conversations in the mindset that you are in a relationship with them, one even tries to rape you at one point. And if you pick another woman as your handler for a mission over them, they get all pissy about it, like you're cheating on them. I'm sorry, cunt, if the other woman knows a little more about the layout of the enemy base than you do.


As for atheism, fuck them. I might not be a Christian or a member of any organized or disorganized religion, but I've never close the book on that option. I've read plenty of religious texts from the Bible to Zen Buddhism and rely on their key teaching: Don't be a dick.

>>16548429

Keep going, my friend.

Octavia offered the canteen again, "Please, Sir. You must drink." The mechandrite bobbed again. Rogal smiled warmly, "Thank you again, Priestess, you are far to kind to this lowly servant of the emprah" Rogal said, before taking the canteen from the mechandrite. Octavia's body came alive when they touched, a surge flooding her potentia coil, numerous unexplained command exploded across her neuralOS. She whimpered quietly, her eyes unable to drag themselves from the man infront of her.

Rogal took the canteen and unscrewed the lid, tipping the cool, refreshing liquid into his mouth. Taking a long draught, he stopped and wiped his mouth on the back of his arm, before splashing his face with the water remaining in the container. Placing the container on his workbench, He lifted his singlet and wiped his face on it.

Octavia's occular augments nearly overloaded. She had no logical idea why, but her fleshbrain was near thrashing. Her eyes took memnorpict after memnorpict of the commissars exposed physique. She felt her cheeks go hot, as the commissar looked at her, everything below his eyes covered by cloth. His eyes went wide, as he quickly pushed his singlet back down. Octavia's eyes had cycled through the spectrums, noticing that the commissar, though not appearing to, was blushing almost as furiously as she was. Her fleshbrain continued to writhe in near ecstasy, and it was only her blessed augmentations that allowed her to keep it in check.

>>16548497

Rogal was a simple man, some would say just a good old backwater boy from a backwater planet. Hard working, a simple man, doing what needed to be done. That was true. That also meant that Rogal had a very strong sense of right and wrong. That sense had been triggered, he had just been nearly half naked infront of this techpreistess. He quickly tucked his singlet back into his trousers, and coughed. "Thank you kindly again for the drink, Priestess. Is there anything i can do for you?"
Octavia just stood their, her mind going faster than she had ever thought possible. She managed a quiet "eep"
Rogal leant closer, "Beg pardon, Preistess?"
"...eep"
Rogal knelt down, now looking the petite techpriestess eye to augmented eye, "Beg pardon?"
Octavia's fleshbrain took over, and the last thing that was logged to her command memnorfile was swoon.emt

Rogal's arm's lept forward, catching the limp priestess before she hit the rockcrete floor.
"MEDIC! TECHPREIST!" He roared, scooping Octavia's limp form into his arms once more

If this story doesn't end with the guy dumping his love interest over the vox to go find himself in the eye of chaos, I will be very disappointed.

>>16548361
>but like any of those paperback ones at kiosks,

Mills and Boon, 40k edition? Ew, no. Those books are terrible.

Sandy Mitchel's two Inquisition books had a nice romantic sub-plot worked through them. It's just annoying the series seemed to have been cut off at the two, when it was obviously shaping up to be a trilogy.

Octavia awoke in the medical tent, under crisp clean white sheets. To her left stood a medic and her fellow techpriestest Caelistis, discussing the charts detaling her flesh and machine health, to her right, sitting, facing her, was Rogal. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, a dusting of stubble across his jaw.
"I think she's awake," He said, getting the attention of the Medic and Techpriestess. The pair turned to their patient, the medic flicking through the charts once more before handing it to the techpriestess, and walking away. The techpriestess coughed for effect, "Physically, you are fine, there was just a psychosomatic overload to your potentia coil, which lead to a stack overflow of a few different psychoemotive centers in your cognitive augments."
Octavia looked at her friend, her eyes lidded, still groggy, when a small txtcom window popped up in her vision.
"U swoon'd lol," It said
"What?" Octavia mentally sent back,
"U swoon'd lol, check your memnor." Caelistis sent, followed by a string of laughing animotes.
With a sigh of effort, Octavia pulled up her memnor files, and felt the colour flood her cheeks once more. She had swooned. She followed the command trace, the swoon had come from everywhere at once, her fleshbrain overriding so many things. Slinking back down in the cot, she glanced over at Rogal, who caught her eye, and then looked away. He got to his feet, "She seems to be making a recovery, I want a report on my desk by midnight tonight, understood?"
Caelistis nodded, "As you wish, Commissar."
Rogal marched from the tent, his mind tumbling.

>>16548616
I love the techpriests in this. Swoon.emt is the best thing ever.

Rogal left the tent and sighed. He had been worried, almost irrationally so, by the techpriestess's fainting. Noone had any idea what had happened to her, and he had felt compelled to stay by her side.

"How long was I... inactive?" Octavia asked, pushing herself back up the bed with her mechandrites. Caelistis folded a pair of mechandrites under herself, using them as a seat, "About thirty six hours, standard terran. Everything nonessential shut down, I beleive, and your crashlog supports, as a safety precaution."
Octavia furrowed her brow, "Safety precaution? What do you..." Her eyes widened as the crashlog scrolled past, huge energy spikes, unexplained biological reactions, all sorts of unusual commands being sent from nowhere to nowhere. Caelistis laughed, a slightly digital sound, "You my dear Octavia, are infatuated."
"I am not."
Caelistis sent another burst of links to files in Octavia's memnors, "Oh, really?"
Her eyes widened, as Octavia let out a small "eep",

>>16548695

Please continue, this is adorable.

Scraps of .drm files flitted past, along with the various memnorpicts that had been taken recently. All of them, containing in one way or another, the Commissar. Various notes and addendum showed how she had noticed things, from his efficiency at chopping wood,
"To how he appears to be well in proportion," Caelistis said, before giggling, "Your infatuated."
Octavia pouted, folding her arms and a set of mechandrites, "I am not. maybe. We'll run some tests then?"
Caelistis laughed again, "Yes. Tests. Whatever you want to call them. Look, why don't you go and take your report over to him, and test all you want?"
Octavia just sat there, pouting. "Fine, but not yet. I want some comfort food. This is embarassing."
Her friend just smiled, "I thought you would say that, so i talked to the cook, to see if I could get some of those confections you like. He said no."
Octavia sighed sadly, "However," Caelistis continued, "Once your commissar heard his decline,"
"He's not my commissar, he is the battalions commissar," Octavia corrected
"Your commissar heard that, he told the cook to make it happen, or else he was up for summary execution for crimes against humanity. You should have seen the thermals on the cook, wait.."
Caelistis sent the footage to Octavia, "See, his extremeties go cold, and look, i think he soiled himself," Caelistis said, giggling, highlighting the hot patch at the cooks crotch

>>16548613
Are you sure he isn't just taking his time to write the third? He does need to tie everything up and he's got a shitload of plot threads to weave together.

>>16548780
I certainly hope that's the case, but I'm not holding my breath. It's been a good few years, and it's not often you get a gap that long between books in a BL series.

>>16548792
Stop speaking sense.

Maybe he couldn't end it in a way that didn't work out horribly grimdark. Which is appropriate, but not his style.

Rogal stared at himself in the mirror, water trickling in rivulets down his face. His stubble was gone, his hair was tidied, his teeth brushed. He grabbed a cloth and wiped his face, before returning to his bunk. He sat down. He stood up. He paced. He lifted some weights he had improvised from empty bolter ammo containers and cement. He sat on his bunk and tried to carve. Sighing, he threw the lump of wood at his desk and flopped back on his bunk. Rogal hadn't slept in over two days, and he felt every minute of it. Normally he slept soundly after combat, the lull after an adrenaline high helping him, but with Octavia. He corrected himself, The techpriestess, fainting on him, he had been worried sleepless. He had found himself unable to leave her side. Something about her face, those delicate features, those emerald green eyes, looking out from under that hood that framed her face so well. He shook his head, what was she doing there. How did she get there, and why couldn't he get her out. Sighing loudly, Rogal rolled from his bunk and started doing pushups. Why didn't he want her out of his head. Hundreds of pushups later, Rogal dragged himself back to his bunk, and collapsed into it, asleep before his head hit his pillow.

Octavia's mechandrites primped and preened, smoothing her robe, flicking away specks of dust that only augmented eyes could see, as she stood outside the Commissars tent. In her hands, she held the report, and a pair of mechandrites held a ration pack. Caelistis had insisted on her bringing the rations, Octavia knew not why.
"You know how he is... inefficent, as you put it," she had said with a grin, "So what's to bet he inefficently forgot to eat?"

>>16548792

Also, he's been working on Commissar Cain again - maybe he's under a deadline? There's one due out in February.

>>16548811

Octavia stood outside the commissars tent, looking at her feet. Noone actually noticed, but her feet looked like boots, and as such, she happily walked around bare footed all of the time. It was a small freedom she allowed herself, reminding her of her life before the mechanicum. Swallowing, she braced herself, "Commissar Hephastus?"
Her voice was barely above a whisper,
"Commissar Hephastus, sir?" She called again, a little louder,but still, no reply. A passing guardsman saw her plight, "Here, enginseer, allow me," He said, grinning at his good fortune to help the famous Octavia,
"Commissar Hephastus. Sir. You have a visitor," He called, and was gifted with a groggy reply,
"Let them in,"
The Guardsman pushed the tent flap aside, "Go on in, Gifted one,"
Octavia nodded in thanks and slipped past him, into the dim light of Rogal's tent.

Rogal rolled over in his bunk, bundling the blanket around him. His officers knew he needed his sleep, and had learned from long experience that he was prone to sleep talking. Octavia made her way carefully though the tent, her movements deft and silent, her eyes flicking through the various low light modes they were capable of.
"Commissar Hephastus, sir?"
The blanketed lump made a noise,
"Comissar Hephastus, Sir. I have your report here." Octavia said again, her voice still small, but audible. Again, a non committal noise came from the lump on the bunk. Octavia moved a little closer, her green eyes glowing in the dim light, "Commissar Hephastus?" A mechandrite snaked forward, prodding gently at the slumbering giant, "Commissar Hephastus?"
The mechandrite responded to its owners annoyance at being ignored, and jabbed harder. With a roar, Rogal jumped from his bunk, landing in a crouch, fists raised. Octavia fell back in suprise, landing with a thud on the floor of the tent, her mechandrites splayed out to cushion her fall, and protect the rations. Rogal activated the glowglobe, before turning to his guest

>>16548811
KEEP GOING, FOR THE EMPEROR

>>16548905

This is a fine piece of writing, citizen.

I demand that you continue, or face punitive action.

"Emprah on earth, Octavia, are you alright?" Rogal asked as he knelt down beside his guest and helped her to her feet, "I had no idea anyone was in here."
Her mechandrites straightening her robe, Octavia looked away, avoiding eye contact and praying to the omnissiah that she isn't blushing. "I tried to get your attention but you didn't hear me, then a guardsman called out and you responded so I came in, and then i tried to wake you but you didnt respond so i tried some more, and you still didn't respond, and it frustrated me so I made sure you would wake up and you did and you nearly scared the machine spirit out of me, and..." Octavia turned to look the commissar in the eye, but was met with an eyeful of abs. Having helped her to her feet, Rogal had since stood up straight, still groggy from his rest. "And?" He asked, looking back at his guest. Her hood had fallen back, revealing chocolate brown hair, up in a simple ponytail. He averted his eyes, she averted hers. "And," Octavia continued, "I beleive it its considered impropper behaviour for a Commissar to be in such a state of undress when in the presence of a member of the mechanicus, outside of medical treatment, as defined by article seven dash thirty two G,"

Rogal looked down at his bare chest, over at Octavia who seemed to have taken a great interest in the ceiling, back to his chest, and then back to octavia, who's eye he caught, before she looked back to whatever had taken her fancy. Rogal blushed, and fumbled for his blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders like a cape. He thanked the emprah he had at least the sense to fall asleep with his trousers on.

>>16548279
Since you're interested, sloppy makeouts followed. With everyone who was female, of course. The guys got left out, except for the one person she didn't know and only met that night who get to bone her. Lucky sod.
>>16548374
I wasn't the OP. But since you're asking about the girl I was talking about, she was from Yorkshire, moved to London.

Octavia looked away as her mind tumbled into action. The testing had begun and already data was not showing the results she wanted. Adrenaline was up, dopamine was up, a host of other chemicals she shouldn't be needing were up. Her fleshbrain purred contentedly, repeating over and over the images of the commissar with the blanket as a cloak. Octavia eep'd against her will, as she forced herself to stare at the ceiling. Her fleshbrain whimpered that one more look wouldn't hurt anyone.

Behind the distracted techpriestess, Rogal fumbled around for his uniform, finding his boots, he pulled them on, thankful for also leaving his socks on, before he pulled his dress jacket across his shoulders, focusing more on being presentable, rather than being properly dressed. He pushed his shirt under his bunk with a toe, before coughing politely.
"I must apologise for that, Priestess. That was very rude of me. Would you like a seat?" He asked, gesturing to the table and chairs in the corner of the tent. Octavia nodded, and Rogal crossed the tent in a couple of strides, pulling a chair out for his guest, "M'lady, if you would?"
Octavia sat down, and pulled herself to the Table, as the Commissar took his seat opposite of her.
"Now, how may I help you?"

>>16549109

I've been refreshing this thread since you started.

This is awesome.

Octavia felt her spine stiffen, as she fumbled around for the report. "You asked for this, Commissar, and Techpriestess Caelistis told me to deliver it."
She explained, placing the data slate on the table and pushing it towards the still bed haired Commissar. Rogal reached forward, his hand dwarfing the dataslate, and as he pawed it towards him, their fingers met. Octavia's potentia coil surged, sending a charge down her arm, and a spark jumped from her fingers to his. The pair jerked, and inwardly, Octavia cursed the omnissiah for not protecting her from such a malfunction. Rogal shook his hand to clear the tingling sensation, before awkwardly stammering "Are you okay, Octavia?"
Blushing at the use of her name, she turned away, suddenly finding the weave of the tent wall facinating, "I am fine, Commissar. Just a small hiccup in my digital power coupling. Nothing whatsoever to do with the physical contact between the two of us. Nothing at all."
Rogal coughed nervously, before turning his attention to the dataslate. He scanned down, absorbing the information, "psychosomatic something something psychoemotional something something potentia coil inverter something someting measurements of 34 26 34 something something likes her men like she likes her tanks..." Rogal stopped, his simple farm boy brain rereading the last couple of lines, before he felt the blood rushing to his face, and to other parts of him. He coughed awkwardly, before attempting to make small talk, an attempt that was cut short by his stomach grumbling loudly

an awkward silence filled the tent. Rogal looked one way, Octavia the other, as her mechandrites moved of their own accord and placed the ration pack on the table. Octavia looked at it first, unaware of her own mechandrites movements, before she broke the silence,
"And Caelistis also said you may have forgotten to eat, and seeing as your body still requires a large amount of nutrients to function at full efficiency, I thought i would bring you a ration pack and maybewecouldshareitanditwouldbelikethosegeltromancenovelsthatCaelistisreads..." Octavia stopped herself, realizing the rant she had embarked upon, and quickly ran back over the log of what had just happened. So many psychoemotional errors and overrides from her fleshbrain.

Rogal just sat there, his brain somewhere in limbo, looking at the ration pack. He knew he needed to say something, or to do something, and that it was important he not do something stupid, but for the life of him, he could not think of a single thing. He knew he was hungry, and he needed to eat, and that was what he would do, but he just, couldn't find the right order of thoughts.

Outside, a feminine chuckle was heard, before the hum of a generator was silenced.

>>16549252

MOAR.

The pair looked up as the glowglobe hanging from the celing slowly faded. Octavia's eyes glowed dimly in the darkness, as Rogal tapped his earbead, patching in to the base voxnet.
"Tiberius, what is the meaning of this?"

In the vox tent, lieutenant Tiberius grinned and gave Caelistis the thumbs up, "Nothing major sir, just some trouble with the generator, the cogs are looking at it now. Should be back up in a few hours."

Rogal nodded, tapping the earbead again, severing the link. Octavia just looked at him, "The generator is down?"
Rogal nodded, before rising from his seat, "Now just you wait here, M'lady, I have a" there was a thud as Rogal kicked his foot locker, "Lumestick somewhere" Another thud as he hit his desk, "around here". With a crack, he ignited the lumestick, and set it on the table, bathing the tent with soft flickering white light. Octavia smiled dispite herself, noticing the direct correllation between this situation and one of the many that her and Caelistis had read back when they were still apprentices. Rogal set the lumestick on the table, before moving back into the tent,
"Would you like a drink?" He called, crouching over another footlocker. Octavia froze, this was matching to many gelt romance situations. They were just fantasies, fiction for the masses, entertainment, not fact. She hesitated, letting out a small "eep"
"Beg your pardon, M'lady?"
Octavia forced herself to answer, "Do you have any amsec?"
Rogal grinned, "But of course"

>>16549334

Okay, the fact that the Vox Lieutenant is in on it is awesome. Best Wingman, or bestest wingman?

>You may shoot me for this in the morning when you remember this, sir, but by the God-Emperor, you are going to GET some.

>>16546625
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/16546488/

archived

>They're so manly and don't dump you over the phone after a 4 year relationship to "go find themselves" in India.


Ciaphas Cain might.

Loving this thread!

Grabbing a couple of glasses, and a miniature barrel of his finest amsec, rogal returned to the table. Placing the glasses down with a slight clink, he removed the stopper from the amsec.
"I hope it's okay," Rogal said as he screwed a spigot into the barrel, "I made it myself."
Octavia's eyes lit up, she may have been on her way up in the mechanicum, but there was one thing she would never loose, and that was her appreciation for a good amsec. The fact that Rogal brewed his own, her fleshbrain delighted in telling her, just made him more "delicious"
"You brew your own amsec?" She asked, as the commissar filled her glass.
"Yes ma'am. It's a little difficult sometimes, but basically, that foot locker, I had converted into a miniature distillery." Realising what he had just said, Rogal added, "Helps with moral."
Octavia held her glass up to the lumestick, admiring the brilliant amber colouring of the drink, before taking a small sip. The smooth liquid washed over her tounge and down her throat, warming her stomach. A small infographic popped up in her vision, explaining the exact composition of the drink, but she dismissed it for a future time.

Rogal prayed to the emprah, begging him to bless that cask, so that his guest would like it. He had scrimped and scrounged and even made a deal with the quatermaster just to get the ingredients he needed, and then keeping the still functioning during the past few months had been harder than expected. This moment, he knew, would let him know if it had all been worth it.

Octavias face lit up. She had drank alot of amsec in her time, from the cheapest swill her and Caelistis had synthesized, to fancy bottles that had been, appropriated from various sources. None of them however, compared to this.

right readers, thats it for tonight, i'm sorry.

I'll be back... sometime. But this will end.

and there will be snuggles. Oh yes, there will be snuggles

>>16548792
He's working for some TV show.

That's why his 40k stuff's on the backburner.

>>16549114
Use. A. Script.

Jesus, /tg/, 4chan x is really easy to install.

>>16549464

IT BETTER. OH, IT BETTER.

Thanks for the lovely story.

>>16546712

The thing is, with 1.5 Billion Indians, that's still a hella lot of hot Indian chicks!

>>16549458
Thank you so much for what you've written so far, it has been a VERY good read!

I usually avoid 40k threads, but this one was clearly worth my time.

This thread

All of my ladyboners

>I'm just going to continue my story so this thread is kept alive for littlest krieger, his story is far better than mine could ever hope to be.

Marcia's eyes widened when she realized Ray might be saying something important. "Oh I'm sorry," she said, "I wasn't listening." Commissar Ray grinned gleefully and he said, "I asked if you'd like me to secure us some privacy." The two eavesdroppers looked at each other quizzically. "What do you think he means by that?" asked Private Jorey, trying to whisper best she could.

Marcia, meanwhile, and almost fainted, and if it wasn't for the augmentations she would be trembling. I mean, this is kind of like a dream come true. Commissar Ray was no ordinary man, his face was absent of scars, his body strong as an ox. He stood at six feet and five inches, and Marcia was a very petite woman compared to him. Then Marcia's train of thought was returned to the original question, "I, I, yes, yes I would, I would like some. Oh, just yes I would like some privacy."

The Commissar pushed his chair out, stood up, and he walked over to his bedroom. Ray approached his bed, and he leaned over to his pillow. He then took out a massive bolt pistol out from underneath his pillow. The pistol was large and bulky, and in the hands of a lesser man it would difficult to wield. Commissar Ray however, was no ordinary man. He walked back into the dining room of his bunker, the huge bolt pistol at his side. He hefted the pistol with ease at the window where Relin and Jorey had been spying. Commissar Ray yelled, his voice with a hint of madness, "I'll give you ten seconds to run before I play pop goes the Guardsman!"

BUT WHO WAS FONE?


Oh it was her bf nvm

>>16550973
I'm on a packed train on the way home but pop the guardsman has me in stiches

I look upon this thread with the authority vested in me by the Emperor's holy Inquisition and find it...

Acceptable.

Carry on.

>Side note: Don't know if you're still here OP, but inquisitors are superior husbando material to commissars.

Relin dashed away towards the opposite direction of the Commissar's personal bunker. Jorey stuck to the wall frozen in fear. Then Commissar Ray yelled, "Nine! Eight! Seven!" Jorey dashed after her boyfriend, her wonderful silky hair flowing in the wind while she did. Ray let out a sigh of relief, and he thought to himself, "That is what I get for gossiping with the troops." He walked back to his bedroom. The Commissar placed his bolt pistol back down under the pillow. He then walked back to the dining room. Marcia was pondering, what else did she not know about Commissar Ray. She asked him, "Commissar Ra-" She was cut off by Ray hold up his hand. "Please," he said slowly, "Call me, Gregory."

Marcia was flattered, the fact that the Commissar wanted to be called by his first name meant that he was being completely formal. She asked her question again, "Gregory, have you. Have you ever regretted becoming a Commissar?" Gregory looked down at the floor and he tried to collect his thoughts. His mind buzzed about with a thousand different answers, but he finally replied saying, "No. I know, I know my parents would be proud. And it seems that our meal is finished."

It was. For a good half hour they had both eaten everything off their plates. They both hadn't noticed, and they both didn't care. Commissar Ray, and Marcia just wanted to look at each other. Weird as that might sound, both of them watched each other from afar all day long, so this was a chance to see each other just a few inches away.

Wow people are actually liking it. Ok then, I'll continue.

If a don't post after a while it's fine, I'll be back by nighttime here in the states.

>>16549458
Damn it, you just can't end like this.

OP, you're my dream girl :(

I just broke up with my gf of a year because she was a cunt. Made fun of me for playing 40k and was a bitch in general. fml.

For a few minutes, neither of them did or said anything. Marcia was lost, swimming in the deep, blue, watery eyes of Gregory. Gregory, was lost in the red lens of her mechanical eye. He had a "thing" (As the troopers would say) for augmentations. Then finally the calm serenity was broken by Marcia, as she jumped to her senses. "I best be leaving," Marcia said, her voice filled with dread. "If I'm not back in two hours Grenor will kill me." Gregory sighed, he stood up and pushed his chair aside. He walked over to Marcia, who was almost at the door. He stopped her, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Wait," he said, trying to buy some time to think. Marcia didn't know what to do, so she just stood there as the Commissar thought of something to say. There was a long silence in the Commissar's bunker.

Gregory decided to break the silence by saying, "Kiss me." Marcia began to tremble. She thought of a response, something to say. Something show that she had been dreaming of this ever since they met. She then said, "I, I, Can I wear your hat?" What did she just say. How could she be this dumb, well that is what she thought. Marcia was just beginning to think what she just said was a grave mistake, that the whole night would be ruined. Then, Gregory, with his left hand, gently took off his Commissarial Cap, and put it Marcia's head.

I fucking love you, /tg/

How is it? I'm not going down in quality am I

>I am horribly insecure about my writing. I've been thinking about writefagging for a while now, just to get me out of this shy stage that I'm in. I have like, thirty short stories collecting dust on my comp. I share them with no one but myself, I'm just constantly trying to improve my writing.

>>16548616
>"U swoon'd lol," It said
>"What?" Octavia mentally sent back,
>"U swoon'd lol, check your memnor." Caelistis sent, followed by a string of laughing animotes.
All of my Throne Gelt!

>>16551194

I think its great. Its cheesy, slightly silly, but I havent laughed this hard in a while.

http://prillalar.com/drabbles/

I'm having a difficult time with this.

Gregory couldn't contain what he was feeling any longer. He pulled her close and kissed her long and hard. She felt the world disappear around her. Nothing else mattered. It was just the two of them alone in the universe. He had kissed her. Her first kiss. She hardly believe it. She wondered now if it had only been a dream.

Then she pulled herself away, knowing that they both had duties to perform. Gregory could be in the doorway all day if she didn't do anything. Marcia walked away towards the Vehicle Depot, to continue her hard life of fixing engines and repairing weaponry. Little did she know, that the one kiss she had, the first kiss she had, with Gregory, would change everything.

+++END OF CHAPTER ONE+++

>So? I would really like some feedback.

>>16551270
Well good then.

Honestly, I'm trying to write a good, cheesy romance with some comedy.

So, I have a few ideas for Chapter Two. I just want to keep the thread alive for littlest krieger. (Who's story is better than mine in every aspect)

I got a few ideas, but two of them are funny scenes of comedy, one a heart breaking one but it involves a love triangle (which I despise in all fiction). Not much daring romance.

So would any like me to make a second chapter, I have to think it out and all that so I have a clear outline to go with.

>>16546726

But that would require some sort of tactical gen- CREEEEEEEEEEED!!!

>>16551355

Stay away from love triangles. If you want complications, put one or both of them in mortal danger, or have some Imperial decree pull them apart (e.g. they get posted to different locations)

I suggest you keep both of them likable/heroic

>>16551297
Oh mah gad this story is so goooood I can't wait for more! You shouldn't be so insecure about your writing because I think its pretty great! I'm not too good at critiques but I do like your style of writing, its not too overly descriptive and its casual (not sure if thats the right word but i hope you get what i'm saying) which makes it for a nice easy read. I will say though, whats with these commissars just taking girls out to dinner? Come on we need some ROMANCE! FLOWERS, CHOCOLATES, DIAMOND RINGS, SAVE YOU FROM DANGER WHILE ON A HORSE OR HORSE EQUIVALENT! EROTIC MASSAGE! RAUNCHY SEX IN THE SUPPLY CLOSET! HARD BONING ON A SISTER OF BATTLE'S BED!

>>16551408

Imperial Decree has basically been made a clique by most writefags. That's why I thought a love triangle could mix things up. Since I'm dropping that part of the story, it involved one of the two troopers I introduced.
>Relin and Jorey.

>>16551409

Well Commissars are human remember. Gregory isn't sure if his feelings for Marcia are mutual. And if all war breaks out then i have to make it a action romance and littlest krieger is already doing that and blah blah.

I'm getting right on to the second chapter. Also, would anyone like me focus on comedy romance, or just romance?

>>16546488
IN THE GRIM DARK FUTURE, THERE IS ONLY WAR

>I don't alway write romance stories, but when I do, I listen to Blind Guardian while writing them.

+++CHAPTER TWO+++

Marcia was a young member of the Adeptus Mechanicus remind you. Most of her organ's were still her original ones. Her face only had a single mechanical eye marring it. Her mind was still organic, so she didn't have to store memory or keep saved like some kind of computer. It had been three days since Commissar Ray had asked her out to dinner. Oh how she thought about that night, the time she spent remembering it, instead of working. Still, she had completed her duties for the day and she was spending her time reading her dataslate. Then came in Grenor, sounding more pissed off than Marcia thought possible. "I can't believe this!" Grenor yelled, his metallic voice reaching another octane. Without looking up, Marcia said, "What is it Grenor." Marcia could hear his foot steps as he walked towards her.

"Look at me!" he yelled angrily. Marcia decided to focus on the most hilarious thing she had ever seen. Before we get to what was so funny, I'll tell you why it is funny. Grenor loved to go into the city and have his nice white robes washed in a washing machine. Today, it seemed someone (Probably him) had mixed a red sock in with the washing cycle. Grenor's beautiful white silky robe was now a delightful shade of rosy pink.

>>16551503
I personally like comedy romance as long as its not too WACKY
Just mix it up a bit, a little tragedy, a little comedy but ALL ROMANCE and HEROISM

>>16551622
Marcia burst into joyful laughter as she her eyes fixed on Grenor. "You think this is funny!" he yelled, still clearly mad about wearing a pink robe. Marcia wiped a tear from her one organic eye and said, "It's, it's pretty funny." Grenor frowned as he said, "My robes have been defiled! This is not only a outrage to my personal cloth but to Tech-Priests every where."

>gtg, I'll continue later.

Bump for the Bump god
Bumps for the Bump throne

Bump for the good of these stories.

>>16551623
Getting ready for a trip, can't write but checking and bumping the thread.

Was the pink robe to wacky?

For the greater good.

I mean bump.

Bump

sage for sonic the hedgehog quality fanfiction

>>16552512
And thats what makes it so good

I am just now getting a chance to post.

It will be hours till I can continue just for anyone who cares.

we care

>P.S. I don't even wanna go on this damn trip, stupid roommate.
Grenor still steaming with hatred handed her ten Berns. (The Currency on this backwater) He then said, "I want you to go into the city and buy me some sodium hypochlorite." Marcia raised an eyebrow at him and said, "You mean Bleach?" Grenor just regretfully said, "Yes, Bleach." Marcia replied, "Why can't you do it!" Grenor simply pointed at his wonderfully hilarious pink robe. Marcia sighed and walked out of the Vehicle Depot towards the large neighboring city.
>I like to leave descriptions up to the reader, why I only talk about Gregory's eyes. What if OP's boyfriend had (insert hair color)? I don't want to remind her of him.
A few hours had passed and Marcia quickly realized that this city was in shambles. On her way to the shop she passed up the slums, a terrible retched place. Dozens of homeless bums filled the streets of the slums since the Arbites and Praetors dared not enter it for fear of getting shot at. As Marcia made her way past the final block of this horrid place she might have just gone the long way back to the regiment and never see this place again.

"Where you go'in," A man in front of her said. "Nowhere," Marcia replied hesitantly. The man wearing a grey hoodie, and had a rag over his mouth. Marcia could make out something in his hand, what it was she couldn't tell."That's right, now!' The man barked. Marcia was corned by two other men. She thought that perhaps she should have brought her servo-harness, maybe her mechadendrites could do something, the blow torch certainly could.
>I'm changing my trip and name after this, pretty sure I'll be the laughing stock of /tg/ for writing this.

>>16553326

>>16553554
Is, is that a complement to the thread?

I'm loving the Octavia story.

Tech-Priestesses are like the ultimate adorable nerd-girl.

>>16553597
Yeah it is nice......

>>16553473
>No problem Mah brotha.

The men behind her grabbed her arms restraining her. The man in front of her with the hoodie reveled a switch blade in his right hand. "Grab her Berns you idiots." The two men who were manhandling Marcia rifled through her belt. "Found it!" one of the same said as he ripped the small coin purse from Marcia's belt. Both men let go of her as they marveled at their prize. Marcia swiftly ran away back to the regiment base. The man in the hoodie said, "Don't just let her leave!" With that the gang scum chased Marcia down the street. The one in the lead of the gang group, the apparent leader tackled Marcia into the sidewalk.

The ganger in the hoodie wrestled with Marcia until finally getting up, raising his hands in the air, and walking slowly backwards. Marcia stood up from the side walk, she then dusted off the dirt on her robe. She turned around, immediately she was in complete disbelief of what she saw. It was Commissar Ray, holding a bolt pistol level at the ganger's head. The ganger's companions had seen the Commissar and were already speeding off in the other direction. "I was just-" the ganger said before Ray spoke over him, "Choose your next words with exceptional care."
>Cont'd

It seemed that the Commissar had followed Marcia on her errand. The ganger mumbled a few words nervously, "I, I was, I was um, um. Believe me when I say that I was trying to get by sir." The Commissar was clearly not convinced. He turned his head and looked to Marcia saying, "Are you hurt?" She shaked her head. "Good then," Ray said, "Or I would have to take your life you scum. How dare you attack a lady, have you now pride! Run off now before I change my mind, and return this woman her currency." The ganger quickly threw down a pouch of coins and ran off towards his friends, screaming very imaginative profanities when he met up with them. Marcia looked at Ray puzzled, "Why, why were you following me." Ray's eyes widened, he scratched the back of his while lowering his pistol. He then spurted out, "Well I just, I mean, It's just..."
>I gotta take a break.

>>16546655
>I bet he's getting dysentery. Indian chicks smell like curry.

fix'd it for you

>This ENTIRE thread
Never change, /tg/.

>IC's story
A normal slow relationship in Warhammer 40k.

>Littlest Krieger's story

A relationship IN the year 40,000.

>Is OP here?

>>16553993
You've got style, my friend. Have confidence in yourself and your work, for you have blessed /tg/ this day.

>>16554067
Thanks man, its nice that someone enjoys this.

I'm out of the writefagging mood. Maybe later. Hopefully littlest krieger will continue his story soon.

>>16554152
OP here, I really enjoy your story and I hope you continue it! Thanks for taking the time to write it, I really appreciate it!

>>16554277
What was your favourite thing about the story, and what did you not care for.

It helps me improve.

>>16554336
I like your story, Its cute. The one thing I would change though is maybe make your commissar a little tougher, he seems a little "school boy" which is endearing but seems out of place a bit. I'd make him a bit more of a grabass and a bit more forward. I do hope you keep writing though!

>>16554789
Yeah I worried about that. But I'm just trying to make him seem calm, confident, and collected when he is doing anything else, like his job of being a Morale Officer. When he's trying to talk to a girl, he's out of his element. I am going to continue soon.

Also bump for littlest krieger.

I LOVE THIS KREIGER.
I will patiently wait for his continuation.

BUMP!

>Continuing

Gregory was looking mighty nervous. Marcia unmistakably knew that he had been following her, probably since she had left the regimental base at the outskirts of the city. Then, a thought crossed Marcia's mind. "How did you follow me? I mean, how did you follow me without me seeing you." It would seem very difficult for a man so tall as Gregory to stay out of sight. Gregory replied while holstering his pistol, "Back at the Schola. You learn a thing or two when your best friends are Stormtroopers. Now, tell me this, why are you in this part of the city by yourself." Marcia tilted her head to the side, and said, "No. You tell why you were following me." The Commissar frowned while trying to think of a answer. He said smoothly, "I just wanted to know you were alright. When you left, I was worried. I mean look at this place. Now, tell me, why you were coming through here."

Marcia sighed audibly, and said, "Grenor had his white robes screwed up, somebody threw a red sock in the washing machine. He wanted me to get him some Bleach." Ray grinned at the thought of seeing Grenor carrying out his duties in a frilly pink robe. Ray replied saying, "Why didn't he go to get it himself." Marcia rolled her eyes saying, "He didn't want to be seen in public. I best get the bleach now though, he'll chew me out if I'm late." Ray then motioned her forward while walking past her saying, "Then lets just go together. Come on."

>To give littlest krieger time

The sun was just beginning to set as they arrived in the local store. Groceries to the right, clothing to the left, and in front all the wonderful essentials of proper civilization. They passed up the dataslates of literature, then they reached the aisle of softeners and Bleach. "Two half gallons should be enough," Marcia said to the Commissar. The Commissar looked at it inquisitively, then said, "Don't buy that brand. Buy Galven Plus, it's far better for getting rid of colors." Marcia could care less and she walked away carrying two half gallons of a cheap non-brand bleach.

"Hey," Ray said behind Marcia. She turned around completely ready to give a smart response to whatever he had to say. To her surprise though, he wasn't talking to her. He was talking to a strange man in rags who was piling gallons and gallons of softener and bleach into a shopping cart. Commissar Ray yelled at him, "What are you doing!" The man abandoned his cart, and sped down the aisle. The Commissar chased after him, intent on stopping him from getting away. Marcia hesitated for a moment, then she ran after the Commissar. Something was wrong. Once she caught up with the Commissar he had already subdued the weird man. Marcia then caught a foul odor in the air,"Ah, he smells like, like." "Like death," The Commissar finished her sentence. "Wait," the strange man said, "If your here, and then, oh your in for a surprise." The Commissar punched the man in the face. Ray did not what to hear it. Ray angrily ordered the man, "Tell me what this, surprise is, or I'll blow your damn brains out."

"I'll gladly tell you," the strange man replied. The smell at this point was to much for Marcia and she walked away.

I should say this, this is my first time writing a romance ever. I'm just coming up with this stuff as I go along. Honestly I don't think I'm doing a good job, well I don't think I'm writing the story OP wanted. So forgive me of my short comings, I have, however, decided to stop being such a PANSY. So I'll stop being such a PANSY BOY and man up.

Thanks, now I'm no longer insecure about my writing.

My roommate's telling me to stop writing gay porn and go to bed. Besides it's 1:33 AM here, PEACE.

P.S. Unless some asks me, I won't continue the story (I don't think anybody cares) neither do I have a burning desire to continue the Commissar X Tech Priestess story. Not my cup of tea. I'll see you in a few days /tg/.

Bump

bump

Bump.

>>16549464
Finish the story

bump

>>16557815
>>16558335
>>16559491
>>16559703
>>16562610
>>16564886

ENOUGH ALREADY.

bump

>>16546488

He dumped you over the phone because you are a typical mentally unstable women who doesn't deserve a relationship.

AND THEN THEY FUCKED.

There, ended it for you.

>>16546488
Nice ASS-thetic change

(USER WAS BANNED FOR THIS POST)

your boyfriend is fucking lucky.

I wish I could go to india.

Bump

Bump

bum