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Vulkan77 wrote:Hope

[insert pic. here]

my CSM have been trying to kill that, for how long?!?

ARGH! 76 pages now, oh well at least we can say, you cannot kill that which has no life.
EDIT* oh and apparently CSM come with exsesorys.

Oh sweet God Emporer. ....

You really just destroyed everything GW related didn't you?

I don't know, I think Emo Eldar just got an upgrade

I like the eldar tag. Emo describes their entire state of existence.

Disjointed Entity wrote:

Gwar! wrote:

Disjointed Entity wrote:

gendoikari87 wrote:
Seriously why does everyone and their mother hate scientology.... They give free lobotomies !?

Ok, who has the Heresy stamp?

Knew I could count on you Gwar.

Everybody, vote Gwar!

Oh come on, we could all use a little brainwashing every now and then!

gendoikari87 wrote:

Disjointed Entity wrote:

Gwar! wrote:

Disjointed Entity wrote:

gendoikari87 wrote:
Seriously why does everyone and their mother hate scientology.... They give free lobotomies !?

Ok, who has the Heresy stamp?

Knew I could count on you Gwar.

Everybody, vote Gwar!

Oh come on, we could all use a little brainwashing every now and then!

If we have to get brainwashed, can we at least pick a different religion?

Ketara wrote:I like the eldar tag. Emo describes their entire state of existence.

QFT

Obsidian wrote:

BrotherStynier wrote:

Obsidian wrote:Here's another Motivational I've knocked together.

I'm not sure how many people out side the UK will get the reference though.

Some say that he's the only un-neutered marine and that he arm wrestled Gork and Mork and won. All we know is he's called the Stig Marine.

And here is this.

That is so good . I dip my hat to you Sir.

I cannot claim credit for the Top Gubbinz image, I only found it.

Think this SM went a bit overboard on purity!!

@Vulkan77

"where's the enemy? I can't see nuthin with these damn Purity seals in the way"

Quick 1 knocked up

Vulkan77 wrote:Think this SM went a bit overboard on purity!!

I can see some empty spaces that could fit some more purity seals.

Plus, many of the seals have nothing written on them. He needs more benedictions of the Emperor.

Gives me an idea, I wonder if I have managed to get enough purity seals from all the SM I've brought to try this.

KevlarPaperclips wrote:

OH GOD EPIC WIN.

Cheese Elemental wrote:

sugna the repairible wrote:WHAT IS 4chan?

Please tell me you're joking.

4chan a.k.a the Eye of Furry. Its where everyone and their grandmother go to think that they are different and special by looking at odd and obscene things. It luls you into a false sense of security before smacking you in the balls and telling everyone to laugh at it, most of the time the people are laughing at something they found off of 4chan but decided to post it there anyways. Its the black hole of the internet and its only use is to determine who in the world is pedophile, a furry, or a pedophile who is also a furry. Its the whole concept of the internet shrouded behind the mask of indecency at the sake of getting some "lulz" it is a boring place and again doesn't even have a purpose as there are probably other websites out there that are better to use when determining whether someone is a furry, a pedophile, or a combination of the two(mutation combining a pedophile and a furry into one conglomerate also count).

If you want art there is deviant art, if you want japanese anime there's japanese anime.com, if you want furry porn there's furryporn.com/urgay.

The inquisition demands the termination of 4chan for its furries and waste of resources.

It's the self-described anus of the internet. This is why it's strongly associated with the Eye of Terror.

I Ffound more CREED!!! Maybe one of them has been posted.

The Titan one has been posted but everything else...



Love the Server Error one

It has been suspected that /tg/ (the 40k/d&d part of 4chan) actually stands for Tactical Genius, and not traditional games, as previously thought. How the hell he managed to sneak it in about 5 yoars in advance noone knows, but it must have taken prodgius amounts of tactical genius.

That server error is going to be used...

again and again.

Do you notice the website the server er I mean tactical genius occurred on?

How old one eye... well became one eyed XD

(Thanks Shadowice558 for the idea)

Fresh from 4chan:

The small woman glanced down at her clipboard, then looked back up at the hulking figure that had finally finished adjusting itself on her poor couch. She pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, tucking it back behind her glasses, and sighed inwardly. Being the best counsellor in the galaxy had its drawbacks sometimes. Still, the pay was good. Tapping her pen on the clipboard, she began.

“So tell me, Mr… uhm… Despoiler; where do you think your stress comes from?”

Abbadon shifted on her couch again, his terminator-armoured bulk threatening to flatten the valiant furniture. “Where doesn’t it come from,” he sighed, his voice surprisingly soft for the most feared champion of the dark gods. “I mean, there’s the gods themselves at the top of the pile: Khorne’s always teasing me that Kharn’s got more kills than I have – up-close-and-personal ones, mind, Khorne doesn’t like all this newfangled stuff like the Planet Killer – and Tzeentch never shuts up about me being so predictable. And then there’s Nurgle. Warp dammit that guy could give a daemonette weight issues. Doom this and despair that and decay the other.”

The counsellor nodded understandingly. “I can sympathyse with that,” she said. She could – her ex had gotten involved with Nurgle back in the 960’s. He had said it helped him deal with his depression, but she hadn’t believed him. Proving him wrong was one of the reasons she had taken up psychotherapy. “Is there anything… closer to home… than that, though?”

He hummed a bit. “Like the other champions?”

“If you like,” she said patiently. The trouble with megalomaniacs was that they could never really accept that someone else knew more than them. They had to be led along oh-so-carefully. Especially Tzeentchian ones – her hardest client yet had been one of Ahriman’s Cabal claiming to be bipolar (it turned out he was just suffering a mild bout of warp-induced madness and paranoia, but the sorceror would have none of it).

“Well, Ahriman’s always been a bit of a pretentious git.” (speak of the devil, thought the counsellor) Abbadon flexed the Talon of Horus, and she winced imperceptibly as it took another inch of cushioning off the arm of her couch. “He never knows when to shut up, that one doesn’t. Even Magnus doesn’t want to talk to him when he’s around, and that old cyclops could talk the pustules off Nurgle.”

“Is there anything in particular that Mr Ahriman says that has a major effect on you?” she asked, marking ‘JEALOUSY - FEELS INADEQUATE?’ on her clipboard.

Abbadon frowned. “Not really, I suppose. He’s always going on about how he would have done the Black Crusades so much better than I did, but then everyone does that there days – not that I see any of them stepping up for a go.”

“And any of the other champions of Chaos?”

“Not really. Typhus is usually off doing his own thing with the Terminus Est, which is a relief really, the guy stinks worse than Mortarion these days. Lucius is busy doing whatever it is that Lucius does down on some daemon world or another – sure, the guy heads out for a quick raid every now and then, but it’s pretty easy to distract him, all things considered.”

She nodded. “And Kharn?”

“Kharn? Kharn’s actually a pretty cool guy, once you get to know him. Gets a bit carried away every now and then, but its all part of his charm. It’s not like he doesn’t give people ample warning – he is called the betrayer, after all. No, Kharn’s never bothered me much. He comes along on most of my Crusades, and we usually end up having a good laugh.”

He leaned back. “Reminds me of this one time we were assaulting Cadia – I think it was back in M34, actually – and it ended up with just the two of us and some traitor company, the Red Rivers, I think they called them. Something to do with a river of blood or something like that, but Kharn had taken quite a shine to them. Anyway, we were stuck outside on of the Kasrs, and Kharn gets the brilliant idea to take one of the Rivers’ landers and do some aerial reconnaissance. So up we go, along with a few dozen of the Rivers to pilot the damned thing, and we see the Kasrkin all there in the main square doing some parade or other.”

Abbadon grinned. “Out of nowhere, Kharn grabs up one of the Rivers and just throws him right out of the hatch! He fell so fast he nearly exploded when he hit the ground! Turns out he hit one of the Kasrkin right on the head, got blood everywhere, and the guy’s powerpack detonates! Before I could even congratulate him or tell him we’ve got a heavy bolter strapped to the wing, Kharn’s throwing more traitors down at record speed. The Kasrkin are all scattering, and Kharn keeps hitting them.”

He chuckled. “Of course, he had to stop eventually. There was only one of the Rivers left, and we needed him to fly us back to camp, but before we turned back around, Kharn grabs my arm and tells me to look down at the Kasr. Lo and behold, all the Kasrkin Kharn had hit had left big blood and scorch marks on the ground, and he’d managed to spell out a message! Want to know what it was?”

She nodded.

“It was a haiku:

Inside your Kasr
Is where we’ll be tomorrow
So clean up would you?

“Let me tell you,” Abbadon said, “I about laughed my topknot off. When I managed to turn around, I saw Kharn high-fiving the pilot – afterwards I found out it put the guy in traction for two solid weeks – but when he turns to me he whispers:

“I was trying to draw a boat.”

Abbadon chuckled. “Kharn’s one swell guy. Always sees the best in things.”

The counsellor was, for the first time in her life, speechless. She just didn’t know what to say to that tale. She leaned forwards, adjusting her glasses.

“So yeah,” said Abbadon, “the stress. What was it you were asking me about ag..ain…” he trailed off as he noticed a glint in her eyes. Abruptly, he realised – the belching smoke, the grimy tracks, the slowly rotating turret-

His psychotherapist was a Leman Russ Demolisher.

Roaring, he leapt off the couch as a flurry of heavy bolter rounds tore it to shreds. Lightning wreathed the Talon of Horus, and he dropped into a crouch, cursing himself for not realising it sooner. He dodged to the side as the turret fired, sending a demolisher shell straight through the window of the office.

Abbadon lashed out with Drach’nyen. The daemonsword tore a burning gash out of the side of the tank, but it gunned its engine and accelerated away through the wall, trying to get enough range to use its weapons against him.

To replace his counsellor with a Leman Russ without him knowing could only have been pulled off by some kind of tactical genius-

“CREEEEEEED!” bellowed Abbadon as he charged after the tank. “I’ll have your head spitted on my talon! I’ll hang your guts from my armour’s spikes! I’ll-” He was cut short as a lascannon beam forced him to lurch awkwardly sideways.

“I’ll rip out your toenails and use them to eat your eyes!” he shouted, finding his rhythm again. “I’ll tear you out of your metal box and feed you to the thousand terrors of the warp! I’ll… do very nasty things to your mother!”

At this, the tank rumbled forwards, its sponsons roaring to life. Bolts thundered out at Abbadon, most going wide, but many still hammered into his armour. He forced his way through the storm and met the oncoming tank head-on, ramming Drach’nyen through the driver’s slit and feeling it bite deep into something behind it. Even as the tank’s dozer blade smashed into his shins he shouted in triumph and ripped the daemonsword upwards.

With the power of the gods of Chaos coursing through him, the tank came up with the sword, rising in an immense arc until it tore free of the blade and went crashing over his head and through three walls.

Startled heads peeked around the edges of the newly opened hole as Abbadon stalked towards the smoking remains of the tank. It had landed upside down, and had crumpled under its own weight. No man could have survived it, but Abbadon wanted to make sure.

Using the Talon as a shovel, he dug his way through the tank until he came to the crew compartment. Instead of finding the smashed and ruined body of his nemesis though… there was a note. Frowning, he picked it up.

Dear Abbadon the Despoiler,
If you thought this was good, wait until you see what I did to your flagship.

Yours sincerely,

Ursakar E. Creed


“CRREEEEEEEEEEEEED!”

AWESOME...

That is the definition of TACTICAL GENIUS!!!

EPIC!!!!