The Incident on Hive-World Schroeder(Warhammer 40k)

[Nicholas de Levive]

Name(something to fit the universe or one of the pre-made characters):


Age:


Appearance(descriptions or pictures pls!):


Race(default human but maybe captured or trader Xenos as well):


Allegiance(Chaos, Genestealers, Imperium etc etc.):


Background(optional):


Family(Great House or blood relatives):


Personality:


Other(Anything else?):


BTW i'll be "Liking" any of the accepted characters and listing them on this post. Create your own or choose one of the pre-made characters. None of them will have any data except their names so more freedom for you guys. And if possible, don't include canon characters please? It makes the Rp very unoriginal so make your own characters if you can.

 

[Naruyashan]

Name(something to fit the universe or one of the pre-made characters): I has developed a 'first name' in order to better interact with "his hive": 'Kree'


Age: Unknown


Appearance(descriptions or pictures pls!):

(Has four arms)


Race(default human but maybe captured or trader Xenos as well): Tyranid


Allegiance(Chaos, Genestealers, Imerium etc etc.): The Imperium


Background(optional): It was captured. The first captured tyranid as of that moment. At first, it was considered they dissect it... until their resident Psyker detected the hive mind's presence and eradicated it.The tyranid collapsed, as did his mind. They thought him dead, and, for some reason, dumped him into a trash heap. The swarmling, cut off from the Hive Mind, subconsciously forced it's own evolution. Years passed, and the garbage piled up... until they were blasted away. The tyranid, now with a highly developed brain and body, emerged from the sea of waste. The Imperium had gotten lucky, as the strain of losing it's connection to the Hive Mind caused it to lose it's memories.


It wandered, eventually coming upon a human settlement. The PDF rushed to the scene... only to notice the citizens tentatively approaching it. Stupefied, they raised their weapons... and were greeted telepathically by the creature. They contacted the higher-ups, who came to investigate... and found the town interacting with the Tyranid, who seemed... passive. Years passed, and a deal was struck. The tyranid had become an asset to the imperium, and had an ocean of psychic potential. More importantly...


It had a Hive Fleet, and the tyranid would not lose it.


Family(Great House or blood relatives): ...The swarm?


Personality: While it does not speak or understand, it can communicate via a primitive form of telepathy, mentally giving others the gist of what he intends to say, while their minds decipher it. Due to this, it is largely silent. It isn't religiously loyal to the imperium, but it is very close to that level of loyalty, considering the imperium it's 'hive fleet'.


Other(Anything else?): Through assimilation and self-evolution, it has gained several abilities that are unavailable to any one tyranid, such as the ability to form it's own bio-weapons on the fly, etc.

 

[Nicholas de Levive]

Name(something to fit the universe or one of the pre-made characters): I has developed a 'first name' in order to better interact with "his hive": 'Kree'
Age: Unknown


Appearance(descriptions or pictures pls!):

(Has four arms)


Race(default human but maybe captured or trader Xenos as well): Tyranid


Allegiance(Chaos, Genestealers, Imerium etc etc.): The Imperium


Background(optional): It was captured. The first captured tyranid as of that moment. At first, it was considered they dissect it... until their resident Psyker detected the hive mind's presence and eradicated it.The tyranid collapsed, as did his mind. They thought him dead, and, for some reason, dumped him into a trash heap. The swarmling, cut off from the Hive Mind, subconsciously forced it's own evolution. Years passed, and the garbage piled up... until they were blasted away. The tyranid, now with a highly developed brain and body, emerged from the sea of waste. The Imperium had gotten lucky, as the strain of losing it's connection to the Hive Mind caused it to lose it's memories.


It wandered, eventually coming upon a human settlement. The PDF rushed to the scene... only to notice the citizens tentatively approaching it. Stupefied, they raised their weapons... and were greeted telepathically by the creature. They contacted the higher-ups, who came to investigate... and found the town interacting with the Tyranid, who seemed... passive. Years passed, and a deal was struck. The tyranid had become an asset to the imperium, and had an ocean of psychic potential. More importantly...


It had a Hive Fleet, and the tyranid would not lose it.


Family(Great House or blood relatives): ...The swarm?


Personality: While it does not speak or understand, it can communicate via a primitive form of telepathy, mentally giving others the gist of what he intends to say, while their minds decipher it. Due to this, it is largely silent. It isn't religiously loyal to the imperium, but it is very close to that level of loyalty, considering the imperium it's 'hive fleet'.


Other(Anything else?): Through assimilation and self-evolution, it has gained several abilities that are unavailable to any one tyranid, such as the ability to form it's own bio-weapons on the fly, etc.

Damn, i did NOT see that one coming, but i like where you're going with this! Now, there's just one more problem. We need so many more people. Think ya can help?


 
Name(something to fit the universe or one of the pre-made characters): Varro Barrister


Age: 37


Appearance(descriptions or pictures pls!):<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_11/57a8c0f037a25_ScreenShot2014-11-29at1.27.55AM.png.7e3b9a1b9cc03ca6c703570240258c7f.png" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="35644" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_11/57a8c0f037a25_ScreenShot2014-11-29at1.27.55AM.png.7e3b9a1b9cc03ca6c703570240258c7f.png" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>


Race(default human but maybe captured or trader Xenos as well): human


Allegiance(Chaos, Genestealers, Imperium etc etc.): Imperium


Background(optional): The third son of the wealthy Barrister family of Lodys, he never really liked his homeworld. Throughout his childhood many of the adults tried to kill his elder siblings to make him the heir. But time and again he bravely helped defend his older brothers and sisters to ensure that he would never regret doing nothing. But because of that he was forced to leave his home and join up with the Imperial army's Comissar Corps to seek out a life of honest, hard, bloody work. He always enjoyed commanding others as much as he liked killing anyone designated as an "enemy". And as such, he quickly finished his training and immediately signed up to be a Cadet Comissar alongside Commisar Yarrick, The Hero of Armageddon. Through that war he gained valuable experience that allowed him full Commisar-ship which in turn allowed for him to lead his own regiments into combat. He has seen much action throughout the galaxy ranging from the Siege of Vraks to the Aurelian Crusade. Afterwards, he decided enough was enough and transferred to the calm and quiet segmentum of Segmentum Pacificus. He was allowed to take control of the 317th Cadians, demoting himself to a Comissar Captain.


Family(Great House or blood relatives): House Barrister, Lords and Ladies of Lodys(an Imperial knight world)


Personality: A very laid back and relaxed attitude when off the battlefield, often found enjoying drinks with his soldiers as well as gambling with them. Because of his personality he is very well received by his regiment, the 317th Cadian Shocktroopers. However, this all changes when he's on a battlefield. Any battlefield for that matter. He becomes a very stern, cold man with a no-nonsense attitude that can make any Guardsman stand his ground against the horrors of the universe.


Other(Anything else?): A lot of experience in fighting the Orkz as well as the forces of Chaos. A distinctive scar going down his left jaw and glowing, evil, red left eye.

 

[Naruyashan]

Indeed. It's going to be interesting to see how the commissars, etc. will take having a 'Nid interacting openly during the fiasco. xD


You mean recruitment, yes?

 

[Nicholas de Levive]

Pretty much. Do you know anyone who's into either sci fi or warhammer, whichever really works


 

Indeed. It's going to be interesting to see how the commissars, etc. will take having a 'Nid interacting openly during the fiasco. xD
You mean recruitment, yes?

Also Naruya, you can put up your post for now, you know the flashback? Start from the beginning to the point where you were integrated.

 

[ThatGuyWithSouvlaki]

Name(something to fit the universe or one of the pre-made characters):Ariana Faughn


Age:29


Appearance(descriptions or pictures pls!):


Actual:

Disguised

Work clothes:

Race(default human but maybe captured or trader Xenos as well):Human


Allegiance:Imperium Ordo Hereticus


Background(optional): Classified


Family(Great House or blood relatives): Orphaned. Her sisters to the Adepta Sororitas.


Personality:Comes of a bit more relaxed and less intimidating or pious then the rest of her order, she may even crack a joke and smile at times. However dont be fooled, she is manipulating, cold and calculating with the Emperor and her sisters being her true loyalties and suspects everyone. If she acts as anything else to better do her job and to catch out suspected traitors.

 

[Nicholas de Levive]

Name(something to fit the universe or one of the pre-made characters):
Age:29


Appearance(descriptions or pictures pls!):


Actual:

Disguised

Work clothes:

Race(default human but maybe captured or trader Xenos as well):Human


Allegiance:Imperium Ordo Hereticus


Background(optional): Classified


Family(Great House or blood relatives): Orphaned. Her sisters to the Adepta Sororitas.


Personality:Comes of a bit more relaxed and less intimidating or pious then the rest of her order, she may even crack a joke and smile at times. However dont be fooled, she is manipulating, cold and calculating with the Emperor and her sisters being her true loyalties and suspects everyone. If she acts as anything else to better do her job and to catch out suspected traitors.

I like it, mostly. But what happened to her name?

 

[ThatGuyWithSouvlaki]

Woops, knew i had forgotten something. Added.

 

[Daimao]

Name: Contritio 'The Lost Titan'


Age: 32


Appearance:


<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_11/Black_templar_chaplain_by_LordHannu.jpg.ebc9eb98c74b855319edc31fa307e00c.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="35704" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_11/Black_templar_chaplain_by_LordHannu.jpg.ebc9eb98c74b855319edc31fa307e00c.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>


Race: Adeptus Astartes


Allegiance: Himself


Background: Contritio was once a Chaplain of the Black Templars, despite his relatively young age, and he proudly fought alongside his brothers in many battles. However, this all changed after a certain battle with the Tau. In this battle, all of the Black Templars under his command lost their lives, and Contritio himself was gravely wounded when a building they were in collapsed during a firefight with the xenos. Eventually, the Black Templars won the battle and the surviving Astartes left the planet. All of them, except for one. Contritio had been buried beneath the rubble, and was left behind by his brethren, believed to be dead or missing. In reality, Contritio survived his injury and dug himself out from beneath the rubble. Finding that his brothers had left, Contritio believed himself abandoned and, instead of contacting his chapter, he wandered Imperium space, a lone Space Marine. Ever since, Contritio has moved from world to world, arriving wherever he believed he was needed or where he wanted to be, before disappearing without a trace. The countless guardsmen who's lives he has saved in many battles have since given him the name, 'The Lost Titan'.


Family: None. (formerly his brothers in the Black Templars, but ever since he was abandoned, he no longer considers them his family.)


Personality: Contritio is viewed by many as an emotionless killing machine. They are almost correct. Despite usually acting otherwise, Contritio does contain emotions, however they are hidden from all but those he trusts. Needless to say, those people are few. He admires those who are free willed and those who are innovative, as well as those who fight for their beliefs, even if those people are the ones being crushed beneath his armored boots in battle. Despite being a soldier, Contritio despises taking orders from anyone, in anything but the most dire of times, as he views himself as his own master.


Other: Contritio is a titan amongst titans, large even by Astartes standards. Standing at 9 feet, Contritio is so large that his ornate power armor is actually modified terminator armor, and he possesses immense strength.

 

[Nicholas de Levive]

Alright, everyone who's character's have been accepted please post your first part as part of a flashback.

 

[cremora]

Name: Kreigan ID#040-R32-2525304-RAED, unchosen nickname Cremora


Age: 27


Appearance: Uniformed just like every other Quartermaster before them, 304-RAED is clad in the Krieg standard issue uniform, including a full carapace flak upgrade, with one exception. The chest piece of the flak armor bows at the upper region a bit more than others, and the full chest piece displays a set of four very large gashes spanning the length of the chest from neck to middle. Considering the nature of Kriegans and their habit of never taking off their mask, it is not known what Cremora looks like, or even if they are human at all.


Race: Alleged Human


Allegiance: God Emperor of Mankind, Death Korps of Krieg


Background:

'304-RAED Vox Logs -



Archive 00000114901-B



Heavy static emits for approximately 2 minutes before a garbled rebreather voice cuts in and out. For another three minutes the language is incomprehensible. Dial rotation clicks are heard, then the rebreather voice comes through clear. We are a Death Korps Quartermaster, second most valuable item in the squad. The first most valuable item is the plasma gun. Every member of the squad trained to operate the plasma gun in case the primary operator was killed. It was deemed inefficient to train every member of the squad to perform the duties of a medicae. Rebreather breathing for about 30 seconds. Arguably, therefore, we are the most valuable member of the squad, but the plasma gun had seen decades of service. We have not.


We have been trained as a field medic since the age of 12. We performed your first field amputation eight days after beginning training. The procedure was not successful. Our equipment is generic and has been replaced many, many times. We do not distinguish between our equipment and our body, as both are required for our purpose.

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Overlapping voices are observed for 47 seconds, before the rebreather voice overpowers them. A note of displeasure is evident. In our former squad, all members knew our value, and were trained to assist and protect us. Our new squad is less efficient. It has conflicting doctrines. Orders are given in unfamiliar tones and with unfamiliar style. We are struggling to adapt, but we will not fail. The squad needs us. We can protect them. We can save them to fight again. If they die, it is our duty to ensure, in the absence of another Quartermaster, that their gear is distributed or stored properly and that the body is placed where it will not decay and spread contaminated air, give comfort to the enemy, or obstruct the operations of the Imperial Guard. With an air of unfeeling, the rebreather voice states plainly. We sometimes have difficulty distinguishing between the living and the dead.


Sometimes, the members of our new squad do strange things. They spend hours talking to each other. We have to listen to make sure they are not giving us orders or conveying vital information without our knowing it. We do not want to appear weak.

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Immediate conversation begins. Confusion and concern are noted. Sometimes, the squad members make strange coughing sounds. We have asked them about this. They do not understand what we mean, and then they cough again, showing their teeth and grinning like the skulls of the dead. We suspect it is endemic, possibly a sign of weakness of mind. Stern resolve creeps into the voice. We have been warned to watch for signs of weakness of mind. We have tested them for lung-rot and bore-fly larvae in case.


Even more confusing, it seems as though the squad does not understand our duty. We cannot waste valuable medicine on a soldier who can never make a full recovery to fighting strength. His pain is a weakness of the mind. His screams are a weakness of the mind. We can ignore them. Our squad cannot. They are weak. They do not understand. Our skills are for those who can be saved. It is a waste of ammunition to end the life of the badly wounded. It is a waste of medicine to heal them. Obvious strain inflects their last sentence. Our new squad does not understand.

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Our new squad is inefficient. They disagree with each other. Intolerable weakness. Sometimes, they disagree with the orders the Sergeant gives them. Unthinkable. We were prepared to strip the corpse of the soldier who disagreed with the Sergeant, but the Sergeant did not execute him. We do not understand. Disobedience is death. At the age of ten we watched them line up and execute a platoon for failing to obey the precise letter of their orders. We do not understand how the Imperial Guard functions if orders can be questioned.


Our new squad fears death. They prefer to risk their missions rather than risk danger. We have seen situations where acceptable losses (up to 20% of the squad) would have lead to a much more favourable outcome. Weakness of mind.

Archive

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Untempered anger emanates through the rebreather voice, harsh and quick. The equipment of our squad is unorthodox. They have extraneous items. Books that are not regimental issue. Items of decoration. Weapons that are not regimental issue. Modified uniforms. Facial hair. Weakness. Unorthodoxy. It makes sorting the equipment of the dead difficult. Sometimes, members of our squad object to us removing certain items from corpses. We do not understand this. A dead soldier has no need for non-regimental gear, just as he has no need for the items and weapons issued to him by the Quartermaster. Vox static cuts out quickly.

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Our new squad is inefficient. They disagree with each other. Intolerable weakness. Sometimes, they disagree with the orders the Sergeant gives them. Unthinkable. We were prepared to strip the corpse of the soldier who disagreed with the Sergeant, but the Sergeant did not execute him. We do not understand. Disobedience is death. At the age of ten you watched them line up and execute a platoon for failing to obey the precise letter of their orders. We do not understand how the Imperial Guard functions if orders can be questioned.


Our new squad fears death. They prefer to risk their missions rather than risk danger. We have seen situations where acceptable losses (up to 20% of the squad) would have lead to a much more favourable outcome. Weakness of mind.


The rebreather voice is yelling now. The equipment of our squad is unorthodox. They have extraneous items. Books that are not regimental issue. Items of decoration. Weapons that are not regimental issue. Modified uniforms. Facial hair. Weakness. Unorthodoxy. It makes sorting the equipment of the dead difficult. Sometimes, members of your squad object to us removing certain items from corpses. We do not understand this. A dead soldier has no need for non-regimental gear, just as he has no need for the items and weapons issued to him by the Quartermaster.

Archive

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Weariness has settled into the voice of the rebreathing subject. Our squad asks strange questions that are not orders but require a response. The squad was talking about their home worlds. We were not listening. It was not important. We were inspecting the hive-vault for hidden sniping positions while recumbent. One of our squad members asked us about Krieg.


We told her.


She did not ask us again. The squad members did not continue talking. Entirely acceptable. Some showed signs of fear. Entirely unacceptable.

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The Sergeant dismissed us at camp. He said we were to report at dawn. We assumed that he or another officer would conduct training and inspections until our appointed sleep cycle. No officer appeared for the duration of the day. We stood in the empty barracks and waited for the suns to rise. While waiting another member of our squad told us to come with them to the regimental mess hall. The soldiers eat here in great numbers. The food is prepared nearby, not packaged and sealed. It was disgustingly flavourful. We prefer our Krieg rations. We still have a few in our kit. We are saving them for the Feast of the Emperor's Ascension.


The mess was disorganized. There was so much noise. We found a corner and ate alone.


After the allotted meal was gone, we went back to the barracks to wait. The squad arrived eventually and we were told to prepare for the sleep cycle. We had our kit stowed and cleaned well before anyone else. Shirkers. Unorganized. Unacceptable.


The sleep cycle here is too long. After precisely four hours we woke up. The rest of the squad was not awake. There were no lights. We were confused. We stared at the ceiling until the Sergeant arrived two and a half hours later.


After replaying this particular vox log through its entirety, the voice cuts out for approximately 3 minutes and 17 seconds before it says in a hushed tone. Sometimes, we feel very alone.

Archive

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Staring at the ceiling of the barracks for two and a half hours every sleep cycle is not efficient. We do not want to wake your squad. They are weak. They require more rest than you do. We have memorized every Imperial feast day our old regiment celebrated. We spent two nights memorizing the feast days of our new regiment. Some dates conflict. We spent several more nights attempting to combine the two without conflict.


Family: Entire Regiment of 040-R32-2525xxx-yyyy, all deceased.


Personality: Imagine the unfeeling, unchanging, fathomless void that is the deepness of space. Now imagine the brightest, most loyal and steadfast zealot the universe has known. Now combine the two, mix in combat efficiency, emotional temperance, and the guilt of billions of Kriegan dead on top. That is the personality of Cremora.


Other: If it cannot be gleaned through the Vox logs, I will state it here. Cremora speaks using first person plurals. This is due to always being referred to as a regimental person, in plurals rather than singulars. This will not translate into my actual roleplay, but only in dialogue for her, whether thoughts or comments outwardly.