dusara217 wrote:
Okay, now, first of all, it takes hundreds and hundreds of bullets to take down a Big Daddy, I don't know where you got "some guy with a wrench" from; it's a genetically engineered guy with machine guns and grendae launchers who is basically a Psyker with no short-term drawbacks of his powers and HAS INFINITE RESPAWNS.

Also, Big Daddies can take insane amounts of punsihment- I've gotten 7 direct hits with a grenade launcher on a Big Daddy without killing it.

Also, mining drills can cut through solid rock, if a bio-engineered superwarrior was to drive it into Power Armour at full strength, then it would take maybe a few seconds to penetrate and kill. It would also be almost impossible to block. The Space Mariner's only advantage would be speed.

And I just couldn't help but put Batman in there - it's too damn tempting!

 morganfreeman wrote:

 dusara217 wrote:
Okay, now, first of all, it takes hundreds and hundreds of bullets to take down a Big Daddy, I don't know where you got "some guy with a wrench" from; it's a genetically engineered guy with machine guns and grendae launchers who is basically a Psyker with no short-term drawbacks of his powers and HAS INFINITE RESPAWNS.

Also, Big Daddies can take insane amounts of punsihment- I've gotten 7 direct hits with a grenade launcher on a Big Daddy without killing it.

Also, mining drills can cut through solid rock, if a bio-engineered superwarrior was to drive it into Power Armour at full strength, then it would take maybe a few seconds to penetrate and kill. It would also be almost impossible to block. The Space Mariner's only advantage would be speed.

And I just couldn't help but put Batman in there - it's too damn tempting!

It does not take "Hundreds and hundreds of bullets" to take out a Big Daddy, on -any- difficulty of Bioshock.

Most of the weapons in 40k are far more lethal than a conventional RPG.

Power Armor makes solid rock look like tissue-paper.

Batman clearly wins.

 curran12 wrote:
Alright, I happen to know the numbers of that game and I know you're making it up, even on hard difficulty.

The hard mode Big Daddies in Bioshock health have 4100 hp. The unupgraded machine gun does 40 damage per bullet with normal bullets. If what you said was true, you did enough damage to kill 2 of them with plenty left over. I'd say your aim is the problem here, not the Big Daddy or Space Marine.

My god, did I do math for this? Yeesh.

 dusara217 wrote:
Okay, now, first of all, it takes hundreds and hundreds of bullets to take down a Big Daddy, I don't know where you got "some guy with a wrench" from; it's a genetically engineered guy with machine guns and grendae launchers who is basically a Psyker with no short-term drawbacks of his powers and HAS INFINITE RESPAWNS.

Also, Big Daddies can take insane amounts of punsihment- I've gotten 7 direct hits with a grenade launcher on a Big Daddy without killing it.

Also, mining drills can cut through solid rock,

if a bio-engineered superwarrior

was to drive it into Power Armour at full strength, then it would take maybe a few seconds to penetrate and kill.

It would also be almost impossible to block. The Space Mariner's only advantage would be speed.

And I just couldn't help but put Batman in there - it's too damn tempting!

 dusara217 wrote:

 curran12 wrote:
Alright, I happen to know the numbers of that game and I know you're making it up, even on hard difficulty.

The hard mode Big Daddies in Bioshock health have 4100 hp. The unupgraded machine gun does 40 damage per bullet with normal bullets. If what you said was true, you did enough damage to kill 2 of them with plenty left over. I'd say your aim is the problem here, not the Big Daddy or Space Marine.

My god, did I do math for this? Yeesh.

I counted, though I shod have added a "give or take a few" thing into it. I was at point-blank range. And I'm not making it up. This is honestly too trivial a thing for me to be lying about.

“Like a herder, Barsabbas fired his boltgun into the dense, mass of slaves. He switched his vox-casters to maximum amplitude and screamed so loud that the rafters rattled and the dirty paned windows blew out. Terrified of the braying giant in armour, the captured plainsmen overran their guards. Hundreds of slaves ran amok. People began to shriek in terror.” Blood Gorgons, p.128 - **

“During a particular training exercise in ambush methods, a fledgling Disciple was crushed by his own poorly-rigged log trap. One of the four - Gabre - simply levered the half-tonne log off the dead man and Mautista saw with his own eyes the way Gabre barely strained to lift it.” / Flesh and Iron, p.118 - **

“At last the moment came. Dak’ir had carried the weight of the pyre-slab for several hours. His shoulders did not even feel this exertion as he fed the chain down slowly, hand-over-hand. Each of the vast links, twice as large as an Astartes’ fist, was etched with the symbols of Promethean lore: the hammer, the anvil, the flame. Though the chain links would not dissolve when they touched the lava, they were still red-hot from the rising heat. As each link fed through his palm, Dak’ir gripped it and felt the symbols being slowly branded into his flesh.

Steam issued from every grasp . Dak’ir did not even flinch. He was focused on his task and knew that every link in the chain must be gripped in precisely the same way so that the three symbols were burned into the same place on his palm. Any mistake, however slight, would be obvious afterwards. The ruined mark would be scoured away by brander-priests, shame and disgrace left in its stead.” / Salamander, p.20 - **

“On board the Cauldron Born’s palaestras, it was not uncommon for Barsabbas to press three hundred and eighty kilograms of loaded kettles overhead, unarmoured.” / Blood Gorgons, p.151 - **

“As Hepshah struggled to regain his breath, the Chaos Space Marine gripped him firmly by the face, pinning his head with a delicate grip. His other hand darted, whisper quick, tapping him on the temple with a longmace. No more than a light double tap. Hepshah stopped struggling. The dark eldar was no longer recognisable from the neck up. The encounter took just seconds and by the time Hepshah’s body was discovered, Barsabbas was already gone.

Moribeth found Draaz hung from the rafters. She found Fhaisor and Amul Teth reclining behind a bombed out dust buggy. In the open, tossed amongst the debris, was a stove boiler that leaked blood. She did not open the coal hatch, but presumed it to contain the remains of Sabhira. She did not feel fear – only indignity. Snarling, she stalked through the ruins. Occasionally she stopped to crack her whip meaningfully, with a belligerent pop. It was a declaratory snap and most knew to run when they heard it.

‘You can’t hide from me,’ she sang. She had always been the predator. Ever since her young maiden years, Moribeth had accompanied her cousins on slave raids. This was second nature to her. In her free hand, hidden behind her back, was a neural blade gifted to her by her kabal’s mistress. The poison it secreted overloaded the pain nerves in living creatures. She pitied anything that crossed her path.

‘Come out, come out,’ she cooed.

‘Here I am.’ The voice sounded like slabs of rockcrete grinding together. A shadow fell across her. Moribeth turned and her confidence dissipated. She slashed her neural whip low, but the tip snapped listlessly as it connected with ceramite. With a speed that surprised her, the horned warrior slapped the top of her head with his palm. There was a pop as her spine compressed and vertebrae slipped out of joint. Moribeth died still believing herself a predator.

‘Face me!’ Vhaal howled, raising his arms into the air in challenge. A muzzle flashed in the distance. Low and muffled. The bolter’s bark. Vhaal, second son of the kabal, fell unceremoniously through a screen paper window, his feet stiffening awkwardly in the air. He was already dead before he landed, felled by a single shot.

The monkeigh warrior appeared indifferent to his threats. He walked into and through the caprid fence that separated them, splintering the wood with his shins and thighs.

‘Catch me to kill me!’ Sindul spat. He leapt up against the sheer rock wall behind him, limbs splayed against the surface, and began to scarper up the vertical drop. He used his lacerator gloves, dragging the hooked claws of his fists for purchase. He shot up the wall like a rodent, scaling twelve metres in a matter of seconds before bounding backwards into the air. A bolter round missed him as he leapt. He landed behind the monkeigh, slashing his lacerators as he sailed overhead. But the horned warrior was faster than Sindul had estimated. It was a grave error. The monkeigh spun with practiced fluidity, pouncing with all the weight and drive of a quarter tonne primate. Sindul rolled aside, but not fast enough. The monkeigh snagged him with its paw and dragged him to the ground by his ankles. Sindul tried to regain his gyroscopic balance, but his thin ankle was locked in a hammer grip of ceramite.

‘I don’t need to kill you yet,’ growled the Traitor Marine as Sindul thrashed like a hooked fish. Dragging his splinter pistol free from its chest holster, the dark eldar began to fire. The first shot hammered a toxic splinter into heavy chest plate. The monkeigh dodged the second with a little dip of his head.

‘Stop, now.’ With that, the monkeigh backhanded him with steel-bound hands. Sindul’s head snapped violently off to the right and he blacked out.” / Blood Gorgons, p.75 & 76 - **
...
“When Sindul collapsed from exhaustion, Barsabbas simply draped him across one arm. The dark eldar weighed little more than his bolter.” / Blood Gorgons, p.84 - **

“‘We’re exposed out here,’ Bulle muttered. ‘Let’s get back into the forest.’Tarvitz was amused. Bulle made it sound as if the stalk thickets were safe ground.Giant forks of lightning, savage and yellow-white phosphorescent, were searing down into the open space, explosively scorching theearth. Though each fork only existed for a nanosecond, they seemed solid and real, like fundamental, physical structures, likeupturned, thorny trees. Three Astartes, including Lucius, were struck. Secure in their Mark IV plate, they shrugged off the massive,detonating impacts and laughed as aftershock electrical blooms crackled like garlands of blue wire around their armour for a few seconds.” / Horus Rising, p.232 - **

“The storm above grew still more ferocious. Five more men were struck. One of them, Ulzoras, was actually knocked off his feet. They saw fused, glassy craters in the ground where lightning had earthed with the force of penetrator missiles. The shield-storm seemed to be pressing down on them, like a lid across the sky, pressurising the air, and squeezing them in an atmospheric vice.” / Horus Rising, p.233 - **

“Giant forks of lightning, savage and yellow-white phosphorescent, were searing down into the open space, explosively scorching the earth. Though each fork only existed for a nanosecond, they seemed solid and real, like fundamental, physical structures, like upturned, thorny trees. Three Astartes, including Lucius, were struck. Secure in their Mark IV plate, they shrugged off the massive, detonating impacts and laughed as aftershock electrical blooms crackled like garlands of blue wire around their armour for a few seconds.” / Horus Rising, p.370 - **

...

The storm above grew still more ferocious. Five more men were struck. One of them, Ulzoras, was actually knocked off his feet. They saw fused, glassy craters in the ground where lightning had earthed with the force of penetrator missiles. The shield-storm seemed to be pressing down on them, like a lid across the sky, pressurising the air, and squeezing them in an atmospheric vice.”[/i] / Horus Rising, p.371 - **

“They laughed as they worked, a drywicked laughter that was frightening in its intensity. From behind the circular saws of an industrial rockcutter, a hooded man lobbed a rock at Sica. He heard a whistling sound and he turned the slab of his shoulder pad towards the missile. There was a flash of light. Even with his eyes closed, Sica’s vision strobed red and bright yellow. It had been a grenade. The explosion pushed Sica slightly and made him grunt with annoyance at his own carelessness. He shot the man off the industrial saw, quickly, as if ashamed.” / Blood Gorgons, p.63 - **

“A blast from a lasrifle struck Marduks helmet and his head was jerked to the side. Snarling, he turned to face the attaker that dared to shoot him.

Varus swore as he waited for the laslok to repower. though they fired powerful singles bursts of energy, the weapons were painfully slow between firing. Still the shot had done little more than irritate the towering monster that was leading the power armoured killers.” / Dark Apostle, p.79 - **
...
“With a hum, the Las-lok repowered and he fired again at the huge Chaos Space marine. The shot was taken in haste and not on target. Nevertheless, it struck the beast on the wrist, and his accursed bolt pistol fell from his hands.

Snarling in Anger, Marduk cleaved the long lasrifle wielded by the infidel in two, and reached out and grabbed him around the throat with his empty hand. He felt blood seeping from his wrist where the wretch had blasted him, but it was already congealing.” / Dark Apostle, p.79 - **

“Priad flexed the long, segmented fingers of the metal glove, and watched as blue sparks hissed from digit to digit. The claw weighed close to seventy kilos and was three times the size of a human hand. But even without the strength enhancing mechanics of his Mark VII power armor, Priad would not have been tested by the weight.” - / Brothers of the Snake, p.142 - **

“Ragnar smiled and casually backhanded his attacker. Teeth flew everywhere and bones broke as his foe was thrown across the room.” / Wolfblade, p.127 - **

“Before the Imperial could shoot again, Kroeger was upon him, backhanding his fist across his face and decapitating him in an explosion of blood and bone.” / Storm of Iron, p.17 - **

“Loken threw a punch that would have decapitated a mortal man. His fist cracked against Jubal’s helm and he repeated the action, driving his fist four or five times against the other’s face and chest. The ceramite visor chipped. Another punch, his full weight behind it, and Jubal stumbled. Each stroke of Loken’s fist resounded like a smith’s hammer in the echoing chamber, steel against steel.” / Horus Rising, p.281 - **

“He realised he was the most feared fighting unit in the universe. He allowed that thought to settle upon him for a moment. It was intoxicating. They were mobile fortresses, able to bullcharge head first into a storm of enemy munitions unscathed. They were destructive, the firepower at their immediate disposal able to flatten urban blocks. With his bare hands, gloved in ceramite, he could crush and pry open sheets of metal, maybe even the support girders of a building.” / Blood Gorgons, p.45 - **

“Barsabbas was so caught up in the excitement he crushed a brass dining plate in his hands and hurled it across the hall.” / Blood Gorgons, p.47 - **

“Laughing, Sica backhanded one of the hooded men with the ridged knuckles of his gauntlet, snapping his neck and throwing two hundred kilos of brutish soldier back into his comrades.” / Blood Gorgons, p.64 - **

“Tanks did not slow the Space Marines down. They clambered up on to them, ripped off durasteel hatches as if they were made of paper and dropped grenades into the interior.” - / Angel of Fire, p.** - **

Storm Vermin wrote:
Well a Big Daddy is a poor man's Dreadnought so if they would go in close combat I think the Daddy wins since it just has to fall drill first on the marine. And somehow I think a heavy mining drill would make short work of a space marine. There is a source for something of the sort in Dead Sky Black Sun where

Spoiler:

Honsou is nearly killed by a dreadnought with a siege drill but his living metal arm saves him

That being said I dont think the Daddy would live through the bolter fire to get close.

 dusara217 wrote:
@wyzilla
All that I saw was examples of bad fluff writing

 dusara217 wrote:
@wyzilla
All that I saw was examples of bad fluff writing

 dusara217 wrote:

IF YOU DONT KNOW BIOSHOCK THAN STFU AND GTFO