@TuskatheDaemonKilla "Well look at the time seems like its almost ready to head for the bridge, Might be a good idea to check the armory to see whos running it before deployment, Might be able to snag gear or later trade anything we find on the surface to them as well for something a bit better, Heck maybe they have someone with more bionics or Genetic enhancements to get, So that might be my cue to head to the armory. Goodbye umm what was your name?" Sarath ask before got ready to head to the elevator that seemed to be opening up with someone in it.
@Vulpas Konstantin tilted his head a little to the right once the woman was finished speaking. "And interesting story to be sure. If you ever feel the need to have your legs regain their feeling speak to me. My expertise expand to all forms of technology and I would love the opportunity to" He said just as the announcement was made over the vox. After waiting for it to end and listening to the woman talk some more he spoke once again. "Konstantin, I will be going my own way before I go to the bridge." He said before he began walking again using his mechadendrites instead of his normal limbs while Brutus followed accordingly. Konstantin was simply going to wander the corridors inspecting the general state of the ship until it was the appropriate time to head to the bridge.
As the Captain elaborated the hows and whys that no one was truly interested in, Lanius spent his time studying the moving of her lips and gesticulating hands as she eased herself in her command throne with her legs crossed.He counted the beatings of her hearts with each word spoken, he can feel her pulse, smell her breath and the odour of her body.Compared to the bland Rubrics who seemed to be much more exciting with their exotic color scheme, Captain Laurana was a word for herself.All vibrant and alive, next to them. That invoked a tang of bitter sadness deep down in his being. Truly there is something mesmerizing in the movement of living beings that the Baron always noticed when he was not busy obsessing with other things, or the killing of the said living beings.However not even his newfound passions for the pathetic mortal could rival his vanity. "... He should be coming soon, merely needing to tend to some personal business in the Lower Quarters amongst the other rabble that was brought along with you." His dreamlike features were suddenly getting an edgier look, as he lifted his right eyebrow and his smile carried as much of mirth and affection as a venomous serpent. "I was not brought along with any...rabble.I paid my way onto this starship..." Sucking in his pride with colossal effort, he consoled himself by thinking that one could not expect a degree of manners or appreciation from a base mortal.Besides...agitating a child that had many bolters and blades at her command would not be wise.At least until he gets more bolter or blades at his command!Until then he would have to use the anger to fuel his passions, and he had many. Resisting the hand-reflex to draw Sathra from her scabbard at the back, he noticed the presence - and another smell - next to him, another Astartes.As the vaunted Captain continued her blathering, Lanius directed his attention to the person next to him, suddenly finding Laurana as dull and boring as the Rubricae that accompany her. Noticing the strange red X marks where company and Chapter livery would be, the rest painted in blue and white that reminded him of bones, Lanius`s eyes glimmered at the prospect of his conclussions. An exile.A turncoat!What delicious sufferings and inner turnmoils he must have in store! - Lanius mused to himself, to slightly taller transhuman, who introduced himself as Fortissimus, with no lack of manners or eloquence! My oh my!What a beautiful specimen!I wonder what he hides beneath that helmet of his! ...IRON WITHIN!IRON WITHOUT!" Something screamed at him, and Lanius turned with a jerk of his head to the corner of the vast bridge, where vox-blasters have been producing some riveting voice that to Lanius sounded more like groaning of tearing metal plates.Realizing that he must have missed the entire speech,Lanius recalled only dim echoes of disjointed voice .Something about "Freedom for the Imperium" and "Finding His STC`s for His Forgeworlds!". Who "He" in question was...Lanius only speculated, perhaps it was their mysterious leader that Lauranna said, summoned them all here.Prehaps it was some Sector Lord that bought them all collectively as mercenaries to do his bidding?Lanius did not knew...and he did not care.As long as he got what he wanted and that he was appreciated for what he is as well as for his every action.Everything else was a meaningless narrative that life wanted to throw at you in the way of your pleasures. And She did not like that.Neither did Lanius. @Jammysod Clasping his gauntlet on Fortissimus`s shoulder, and with a genuine smile and flickering eyes he spoke: "Well...Fortissimus right?I do not plan on waiting for an entire lifetime for our illustrious leader to show up.Will you accompany me to the lower decks until then?"
SHIP DECK Rotticus wasn't exactly sure as to location where he was taken too. He wasn't exactly free to explore the ship afterall (not that he had the means to do so anyway). He was able to hear people talking around him, none of whom sounded familiar to him in the slightest. And with his current position, he wasn't exactly able to see any of those who were speaking unless they ended up in his line of sight the metal box gave him. However, look around he did, and he immediately had issues regarding the condition of his environment. Everything looked, cold, sterilized, lifeless, his surroundings were spotless and free of dirt and grime. This bothered him slightly. The ship was too clean for his tastes. And to make matters seem even worse for him, he was able to see near mindless servants of Tzeentch, Rubrics. Their presence was not entirely welcome to the Nurglite sealed within the box, but if there was any emotional response out of him, it was pity. The automatons that were once astartes at some point, in an attempt to free themselves from fate found themselves ensnared by it. Trapped within the very Armors built to protect them that were now their seemingly eternal prisons as they are forced to serve who ever held control of them at the moment. Such a fate awaits all that try to cheat death and destiny. Their despair would please Plaguefather, if they even had such a capacity to do so anymore. "Hello?" Rotticus' voice boomed from his adamanttium sarcophagus, "My vision is limited from this viewport. Am I only surrounded by Tzeentch's mindless puppets right now? Is there anyone out there who isn't a slave to that deceitful imp?"
The Captain's speech meant little to Fortissimus. Her talk of freedom and fighting tyrants only served the purpose of boring him as he thought of how this was just barely less tedious than sitting around in his room like he was before. But tedious or not Fortissimus stood silently through the speech, only briefly looking over at the massive adamantium crate that was dragged into the room. When the speech was concluded Fortissimus felt a hand upon his shoulder and turned his head to see Lanius' smiling face as he asked if he wished to go down to the lower decks with him, he wasn't entirely sure why but he couldn't help but smile back under his helmet. "But of course I will, Lanius. I need to fetch some things from the armoury while there's still ample time," he gestures at Stakh and the crate, which now seemed to be talking, "besides, I'm sure we can introduce ourselves to the others who happen appear here when we must return later."
Solithar had done nothing so far apart from check his wargear was in near perfect condition. Ammo was lacking at the moment but nothing that he wasn't used to. Least not he could change that as no doubt they have an abundance of Bolt rounds or they soon were going to with the forge world below them. Solithar's narthecium though was still fully stocked and ready if any of his "brothers" needed assistance. It occurred to him it was a rarity when he'd given proper medical treatment with it apart from gene-seed extraction as most times those who requested his aid were already doomed and he'd do nothing but prolong their suffering. As Solithar mused to himself he noticed the Vox to come life. An amusing speech of freeing themselves but this was his Imperium, he created it and therefore had ownership of it. No man could tell him otherwise, he'd fought with his heart to make it stand and he'd bled for it to keep standing. Even when they were asked to do that which other Legions scoffed at the idea of. Now, Solithar is the one lighting the match to burn down that which is his. There might even be something poetic buried in there somewhere. The Night Lords never had the pretty jobs but they always got their job done. One way or another. For all the millions of lives they saved from death by easing a compliance through an act of total desecration was considered barbaric while another could spend decades of war with a death toll ten fold what they had and be called the heroes. It wasn't the Ultramarines who ending a rebellion by showing their presence nor was it the Luna Wolves but the Night Lords who made the easing of the Imperium's more... Rebellious members. But what happens when you start to punish the peace keepers? What happens when you drive the peace keepers to war? Chaos, anarchy and destruction. But anyone who command this armada assembling then they were to be cautious around them, at least until their character could be judged. At least the Iron Warriors were more tolerable than the other God obsessed Legions who do nothing but natter on about Chaos this and Chaos that. Only one thing drove Solithar and that was himself, no god or master dictated his path forward. Only one could and unless he came back from the dead then he'd continue following his own path. There was perhaps one other but he was long gone as well... As the speech ended and the next bit came privately to all those this "leader" had assembled that there was still 40 minutes left before being needed on the bridge and Solithar's wargear for the most part was ready, Solithar decided that a few extra rounds of ammo couldn't hurt. So with that decided he maglocked his Bolter to his thigh and his Chainsword at his belt then begun to move out for the Armoury to refill on supplies before reporting to the bridge for his mysterious benefactor.
Ishmael regarded the announcements and quickly dressed himself in armor. He headed through the elevator to the mess hall. As he walked he silently regarded those around him. This was certainly an interesting amalgamation of madmen, and he looked forward to the trials and invasion. He collected whatever food was being served, sat himself down and dug in.
The elevator itself was... Roomy; in fact, tremendously so. It was almost as though it was one of many that was made to be able to transport full-sized tanks like Leman Russes & Predators. Granted, most halls were still too thin for that, making it more of a way to transport it to & from certain floors. FLOOR 17 - ARMOURY The armoury itself was rather immediate the moment that the elevator opened, the smell of smoke and burnt metal being quite apparent, as was the scorching heat. If anything, it was almost like a miniature factory, through wired fences - the 'wires' being more akin to actual bars as thick as a man's wrist rather than actual wires - one saw dozens of men & women all working at their stations. From what it looked to be, most were making autogun bullets, all being placed into crates the size of ratlings. Past the... Bullet farm? Were more extraordinary sights; a true armoury consisting of lasguns, autoguns of all sorts, shotguns, sniper rifles, plasma guns, melta guns; and perhaps a thousand armed & armoured men and women all going about their business. To the right of the elevator was something that could only be described as a 'hangar', albeit minus the ships and hangar doors -- and from there, were numerous floors of... Gun ranges. Many soldiers all training their aim, some taking bets and others having competitions of their own. And all this, was behind bars - the elevator itself was in fact leading to a small 'room' of sorts where the walls were bars, keeping them in. Security measures so nobody got in and immediately could ransack it all. The free space was about two metres to the sides and three across. To the right at the 'door' were two more Astartes, one of which had both legs replaced with sturdy bionics, as well as one arm, though both still were armed with combi-bolters. Ahead of them seemed to be a... Counter. A plain, counter, like for a store. And in it, was a man. Short at perhaps 5'2, with only a slightly protruding belly and a pronounced beard, even despite his balding. From the scars & wrinkles he certainly seemed to be past middle-aged, but not quite elderly, not quite his 50's. "Ah! There you lot are." He shouted out jubilantly, waving the newcomers over. "I'm Jeremiah; th' Ship's quartermaster. Don't let the size fool ya, this ship's more like a gargantuan transport, rather than an actual combat ship of some sort. That'd be a last resort. "Now; what can I help you all with? Ammunition, I take it?" He asked with a raised brow. His voice was slightly gravelly and grumbly, though not menacingly so. Quite the opposite; it seemed to fit a bit well with his positive attitude. His uniform was like all others, a simple dark-green/gray, with an entire sleeve (and into the chest area as well) replaced with yellow&black stripes.
"Worry not, they are only here for the Sorcerer's benefit, not I." Laurana spoke; ahead from the viewport, was a direct view of her upon the small throne. "I am Captain Laurana Schmidt; And you are the... Helbrute, that was given an invitation by an Emissary, yes? Well; I do not worship the Chaos Powers, however there are those who lightly practice it within the Ship. The Sorcerer in question is only here to escort you and the others off my ship, and to the Capital, to... The one who wishes to see you." She explained. "Is there anything you would like to ask?"
@Jammysod @Casavay @GobMaw_HellSmasha "But of course I will, Lanius. I need to fetch some things from the armoury while there's still ample time," he gestures at Stakh and the crate, which now seemed to be talking, "besides, I'm sure we can introduce ourselves to the others who happen appear here when we must return later." Looking the way Fortissimus inclined, Lanius allowed his attentions to be swayed by what appeared to be a beast-mutant and a box with eye-stinging runes engraved upon it. @BruticusTheGoreHound @Vulpas "Yes...later." the pale noble replied with a wave of his gauntleted hand, as he moved to the elevator who, judging by the clanking sound of machinery, was climbing up. The elevator was so wide that it was more like a cargo-elevator then anything else.Quite empty but for two mortals that were riding it.One of the two, sat near the runebank console of the elevator, eating what appeared to be piece of meat. The mortal had a savage look about him, but was armed and armored at least what passed for armor and weaponry for regular humans.Usually, Lanius would react on a impulse and shove the slave with his armored boot to do his bidding while using his plenthora of knives to toy with him on the way down. However, it seems Fortissimus was at his backs, and he did not want to leave bad first impressions.Amused that he even cared for such notions, Lanius turned to the still-sitting mortal and asked, slightly bending, towering over him, with his usually suave demeanour: "To the Armory if you would be so kind." Not paying any special attention to the second one, he turned his head to the Astartes next to him, continuing the conversation: "Fortissimus...what an odd name...quite plain yet odd.Huh...I like it!Beautiful in its simplicity one may say!Anyway...where was I...?" Lanius spoke, words slurring of his tongue and his knife-edged pink lips like honey, the mortal-operator-savage, seemingly forgotten. "So...what brings you into this band of misfits?Glory?Wealth, promise of passion, or...perhaps redemption?"
