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I admit my view is probably biased, because I've now read the original Horus Heresy trilogy twice, and they're very pro-Horus. But yeah, I am absolutely open to capping off the images with Facepalming Horus. ^^

So we only need seven more... you've got Scape, and didn't you say you had An Idea for Kaitlyn? Other than that, let me see... checking your cowrite with Thoth [which I never read! Well, it happens that I'm looking for a distraction right now, so up it comes!], it seems doctorlit at least recognised 40K when he sees it (he mentioned memes). Hieronymus doesn't specifically say that he doesn't recognise it, which sounds like Good Enough For Shipfic (also, he's been criminally left out of the Shipfest so far). And Hardric! He makes a 40K joke in his review!

See? That's five out of seven already. ^^

(The reason I'm angling for my wife to get included in this is partly because Agent Kaitlyn's reaction would be brilliant to read about, but mostly because I've already got the first line of her epilogue written in my head. I would write it myself, but I don't have even the slightest grasp of any of the remaining Primarchs.)

hS

I was gonna yesterday. Or maybe Monday? But I ran out of time.

Anyway, this totally confirms that Dorn is the handsomest Primarch. I love the expression on his face, and yes, the mustache. It looks like it belongs there, and is neither silly nor icky, which mustaches often are, IMO.

I'm not quite sure what Fulgrim is looking at with that little smirk. Maybe there's a mirror off to his left? {= )

~Neshomeh

I am now imagining Valon parading around HQ in a red coat and top hat and waving a cane around; I just watched The Greatest Showman and OMG this movie's awesome!

At the end of it all, Horus turns up and is like, "What. What is this? What are you doing? Can't I leave you guys alone for five minutes? Come on, we have a galaxy to conquer, in case you forgot! *mutters* Dammit, Father, I would never have accepted this job if I'd known it would mean dealing with this..."

I like Horus, before !@#$ing Erebus slimed his way in and started messing with his head. He got a pretty raw deal. {= (

But here's the question: which Boarders are left to ship who are also 40k fans, or at least passing acquaintances? Scape's the only one I can think of off-hand.

~Neshomeh

Now with varying poses! I'm pretty sure that's GMA's attempt at 'no, I just have to go... somewhere else... for a minute'. And I'm just too amused by Tomash apparently not noticing that the chap whose hands he's examining is twice his height and wearing Space Marine armour. ^_^

(I am so glad you guys stopped explicitly dressing them all in robes; it makes for so much more variety.)

At this point I believe we've had one Traitor Primarch in each drawing. Obviously that will have to shift the other way if the remaining 8 get written... we've only got Guilliman, Sanguinius, and Corax left on the Loyalist side!

Curze, Angron, Mortarion, Lupercal, Aurelian... things are gonna get interesting as (if?) you work through the list...!

hS

I'll call my stupid grin a mark of this fic's success.

Welcome and have some stroopwafels!

I actually considered using "Picture a stereotypical SS officer, put him in modern clothes and you get what I look like" as my physical description, which makes this especially funny to me.

Please have this bag of black-hole chocolates and my welcome.

Jeez, you guys. Such flattery. ^_^;

But look, you can't read "Ring Child" without reading Tungsten Monk's stuff first. It's frelling brilliant to this day, and Tungsten is an actual honest-to-goodness published author now, so she's objectively way cooler than me. Go! Read!

And, like, ideally read the previous missions in the RC 999 spin-off first, too. And maybe "Gestalt Therapy," if not the original 2008 Macrovirus Epidemic/Sue Invasion stuff. I don't think "Ilraen's Journal" quite covers all the important details. The only mission of mine I've actively attempted to make sensible without prior context is "Blood Raining Night" because it's legendary-ish, and seriously, don't start there.

Anyway, welcome to the PPC, HeraldicBanner! Have some freshly baked Canon Cookies!

~Neshomeh

Just before tea-time, there came a tremendous knock on the door to Phobos' response center. He suddenly remembered: he had promised Neshomeh a date to make up for sharing her tea with Kaitlyn. But, he'd been so busy building a deck for his latest MTG blog that he'd clean forgotten! He rushed and put the kettle on, then ran to the door.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," he was going to say, when he saw that it wasn't Neshomeh at all.

It was a bald man about a foot taller than him, with coppery skin, and very bright eyes under his dark green hood. As soon as the door opened, he pushed inside, just as though he had been expected. He hung his hooded cloak on the nearest peg and said "Alpharius, at your service!" with a low bow.

"Uh. I'm Phobos. At yours?" said Phobos, too surprised to ask questions for the moment. When the silence that followed became too uncomfortable, he added, "I was gonna have some tea." He didn't add: with my wife. "You want some?"

He showed Alpharius in and had barely poured him a cup when there came an even louder knock.

"'Scuse me," said Phobos, and off he went to the door.

"Here you are!" he was going to say to Neshomeh this time. But it was not Neshomeh. Instead there was another man indistinguishable from the first, except that he wore a scarlet hood, and he too hopped inside as soon as the door was open, just as if he had been invited.

"I see they have begun to arrive already," he said when he caught sight of Alpharius' green hood hanging up. He hung his red one next to it, and "Alpharius at your service," he said with his hand on his breast.

"Thanks?" said Phobos with a raised eyebrow. It was not the correct thing to say, but he was badly flustered. "Come on in and have some tea, I guess?" he managed to say after taking a deep breath.

"A little beer would suit me better, if you have any, my good sir," said Alpharius with the red hood.

"Nope, sorry. Can't stand the stuff," said Phobos. "I might have some cider, though." He went off to the kitchen to look, and when he got back the two Alphariuses were talking at the table like old friends (in fact they were brothers). He plunked a cold can of cider in front of the second one, when a loud knock came at the door again, and then another knock.

Neshomeh for sure this time, he thought. But it was not. It was two more men, both with blue hoods and otherwise indistinguishable from the first two. In they hopped, as soon as the door began to open—Phobos was hardly surprised this time.

"Alpharius at your service!" said the one. "And Alpharius!" added the other; and they both swept off their blue hoods and bowed.

"Riiight," said Phobos.

"Alpharius and Alpharius are here already, I see," said Alpharius. "Let us join the throng!"

Throng! thought Phobos, wondering if there might end up being enough people for a quick draft of Magic. He had only just checked to see whether he had enough booster packs for an eight-person draft with prizes when, banga-banga-bang, there was more pounding at his door.

"Three people at the door?" he said hopefully.

"Some four, I should say by the sound," said the second blue-hood Alpharius. "Besides, we saw them coming along behind us in the distance.

Phobos shrugged. Nine people in a draft was a little awkward, but he could make it work. But it was not four after all: it was FIVE. Another huge bald man had come along while he was wondering in the hall. He had hardly turned the knob before they were all inside, bowing and saying "at your service" one after the other. Alpharius, Alpharius, Alpharius, Alpharius, and Alpharius were their names (Phobos was not at all surprised at this point), and very soon two purple hoods, a grey hood, a brown hood, and a white hood were hanging on the pegs, and off they marched with their broad hands stuck in their belts to join the others.

Okay, thought Phobos, ten-man draft. It sucks, but what can you do? He rushed around for a while, getting drinks and snacks for everyone and putting out enough basic Lands and life counters to go around. He had just about gotten set up to play when there came yet another loud knock.

He scowled. Eleven people would be even worse than ten. He'd have to split the draft into pods of six and five, and that was just dumb. Annoyed, he pulled the door open with a jerk, and they all fell in, one on top of the other. More bald men, four more! And there was another one behind, slightly taller than the others in a dark blue hood with a long gold tassel, laughing.

"Carefully, carefully!" he said. "It is not like you, Phobos, to leave friends waiting on the doorstep, and then open the door like a pop-gun! I am Alpharius. Let me introduce Alpharius, Alpharius, Alpharius, and especially Alpharius!"

"At your service!" said Alpharius, Alpharius, and Alpharius, standing in a row. Then they hung up two yellow hoods and a pale green one; and also a sky-blue one with a long silver tassel. This last belonged to Alpharius, the spitting image of the one in dark blue.

"Of course you are," muttered Phobos.

"Now we are all here!" said Alpharius, looking at the row of hoods hanging on the pegs. "Quite a merry gathering! Now we can begin."

"Sure!" said Phobos. "There's, what, fifteen total now, so that's a pod of eight and a pod of seven, not bad, not bad. I don't think I have enough packs for prizes, though."

"I have not come to draft," said Alpharius. "I have come for your Shipfest! Will you not entertain the Hydra?"

Phobos thought for a minute. He was, technically, still supposed to be having tea with his wife, but she was way late, and if she did turn up, well... that would make sixteen, and two perfect pods of eight.

"Okay, I'm down," said Phobos. "Let's do this thing!"

~~~~

Several hours later, the door to Rudi's opened once more, and Phobos staggered inside. His clothes were disheveled, his hair a mess, and his manly beard stuck out straight to the sides. He stood in the entrance, swaying slightly.

Neshomeh, who'd been cavorting with Vulkan and Granz in the form of a winged tortoiseshell cat, abruptly morphed back when she spotted her husband. "Oh man, I totally forgot our tea date! Crap, I'm so..." She noticed the glazed look in his eyes. "Hey, what happened to you?"

"I'm not sure," said Phobos. "But I think I'm Alpharius." He took one more step, tripped on a trailing leg of his jeans, and faceplanted onto the floor. There was a three-headed hydra brand on his left hip.

---

With apologies to the great J.R.R. Tolkien. And also to hS; I have no idea how he's going to draw this one. {= )

Oh, and yes, Silly!RP!Neshomeh can turn into a flying cat. Seemed like the right thing to do. ^_^

~Neshomeh

I second whoever recommended Ring Child, and would like to expand that rec to all of Neshomeh's writing because I think she's the coolest.

Yay, another LotR and Minecraft fan! Have some cake and a mallorn-leaf pin! :)

Oh whoops forgot to enter name

Salutations to you too!

Heh... funnily enough, I found that Harry Potter 'fanfiction' (robotfiction?) a couple of days ago. :)

Thanks for recommendations!

Have a randomly generated Harry Potter chapter:

http://www.botnik.org/content/harry-potter.html

I recommend the "Ring Child" mission as some good old-school ppc:

http://starshadowhall.tripod.com/ppc/rc999/05rc.html

Hello, and welcome aBoard! For your newbie gift, take this plate of freshly-made SPaGhetti!

As for other spinoffs to read—Neshomeh's. Definitely Neshomeh's. That means Supernumerary and Ilraen, and Derik and Gall. Her stuff's my favorite for a good reason. :)

(If anyone recommends my stuff, ignore them. There's way too much of it to wade through and you'll miss out on better stories.)

Hello! This will be unnecessarily long and rambly and poorly formatted.

I am a new poster, and this... uhh... forum? Message board? Whatever it is, it looks interesting. I have heard from distant lands (aka the discord page) that it's good to introduce yourself on this board, and that creating an account is not actually necessary, contrary to all rational logic in the universe. (Now I have an excuse to procrascinate more. Yay procrascination!)

So, introduction. I really enjoy LotR (yes, including Silm and HoME and others), Foundation series, Robot series, Culture series, Warhammer 40k (I can't actually afford the figurines, though, and GW is screwing everything up again dammit), the Elder Scrolls, Minecraft, and several others that I can't remember off the top of my head. I'm also something of a grammar nazi, though I may or may not suck at spelling myself without a spellchecker.

I found the PPC via a link from the internet forum that I frequent the most to TvTropes, where there was another link linking me to a list of terribadfic that had a link to the PPC wiki where I read for a bit, and then decided to join the message board (I admit, though, I didn't exactly have high hopes about this being active, seeing as I read somewhere about the PPC being disbanded years ago. I was wrong.)

My favorite mission/agents are probably the ones from the original series, seeing as I may or may not have not read much of the other ones apart from Celebrian (which left me seeking brain bleach). Reccomendations, plz?

That's about it, I think. Hopefully.

I think this might be Ghost!Fourth-wall!Ferrus? Or something? I have no clue. I didn't think this through at all when I wrote it.

And yes, I get the joke. XD.

Do you need a towel after writing that one? (Are you far enough in Homestuck to get that joke?)

Seriously, though, I liked this one a lot. I'm with Tomash, this poor guy needs hugs. And I confess I had no idea what the joke was until it happened, and then I felt silly.

Also... wait... "when I was alive"? This is dead!Ferrus? But I thought he was a ghost head. How does this work? {X D

~Neshomeh

*lightly taps wall with iPhone*

I'M FREE

But the story itself is pretty great. Welcome to the party, Tomash!

Tomash nodded, running his hands along the cold metal. “These are, obviously, in immaculate condition. Why did you want me to look at them again, Mr…”

“Manus,” said Ferrus. “Ferrus Manus.”

“Appropriate,” Tomash chuckled. “I mean, seeing as we’re looking at your hands, and they’re made of iron…”

“Yes, I get it…” Ferrus sighed. “Do you have any suggestions for improvement?”

Tomash shook his head. “No, not really. None that I can think of. Although I’ll be honest, I don’t entirely understand these things to begin with. Anyways… uh… were you named after the Primarch Ferrus Manus, by any chance?”

“Use your eyes, boy,” snapped Ferrus. “I am he.”

“Oh, right, right, that makes sense…” Tomash trailed off. “How did you get in here?”

Ferrus waved a hand dismissively. “Not important. In any case, I wanted someone to examine my hands. They are, of course, perfect. But I wanted to check.”

Tomash shrugged. “Seem fine to me, anyways.” He cleared his throat. “So… uh… Iron Hands, then? They’re pretty cool…”

“Are they, then?” Ferrus’s voice had developed a chilling calm.

“Yeah! All machine stuff and—”

Tomash was interrupted when Ferrus’s fist hit the table, causing him to jump back from the pile of wood that was once the table. “No. What my sons have done is not ‘cool’. It is entirely against the spirit of what I stood for when I was alive.”

“...Wait, really? You’re all about machine parts and stuff, right?”

“Is my memory truly so desecrated?” Ferrus gave another weary sigh. “When I was alive, boy, I believed in the strength of the human flesh more than all else. Not machines. And yet my sons have become disgusted with the flesh’s very existence.”

Tomash nodded slowly, moving around to get closer to Ferrus. “Yeah… I guess I can understand that. Sucks, really…”

Manus nodded. “That is the least of it.” He paused, briefly. “...Apologies about your table.”

“‘S fine,” said Tomash. “This is DoSAT. They break biweekly.” He looked the primarch up and down. “You know, I think you could do with a hug.” He hugged the Primarch, although it was somewhat awkward due to the rather large difference in stature.

Ferrus looked down at the man. “...You, boy, are very strange. But I think I like you.”

Tomash smiled at the giant. “Well… good! I think you’re pretty alright.”

“Boy, I have been alone for a rather long time.” Ferrus smiled slowly. “Perhaps I should show you another way the flesh can be strong.” The words left no doubt what he intended.

“...You know… I think I might like that,” said Tomash. “Come on. My room shouldn’t be too far away. Hopefully.”

--

Yes, I broke the name scheme. Because that was too strong name to pass on.

Also, if I'm not mistaken, we have now officially shipped half the primarchs.