W
Warmaster Death
Guest
Original poster
A sea of empty bottles clink together as several figures fidget in what looks to be deep sleep.
atop a couch that seems like it's going to collase at any moment, sprawled over the armrests snore two men in terminator armor, one a grey knight chapter master fidgeting with a stormbolter in his sleep, the other, a chaplain with a pipe laying just next to his gaping mouth, holds an empty bottle of vodka in each gauntleted fist.
head resting on the point where the two suits of terminator armor meet, a kilt clad Lich slumbers silently, dark fires smouldering in empty eye sockets.
across the sea of bottles, a group of soldiers in various states and types of BDU gear sleep in a tight group, one even has a fox resting atop his chest, their breathing seemingly in sync.
closest to the window, a pile of ooze bubbles gently like a small, living puddle.
midday light blares through a gap in the curtains, and the man with the fox on his chest opens his eyes and watches it warily, though he does not stir.
the light however hits the trio on the couch, and almost as one they groan, which in turn sets off a chain reaction, as the bleary eyed iwakuians awoke
"oh fark me dead" the Terminator with the bottles croaks, turning his head so that it faces away from the light, his pipe seemingly stuck to the fleshy side of his face
"urg, wassappenin' ah meh fookin ead" the Lich, eyes now lighting up like a fire restarting as he was jostled by the stormbolterm armed Terminator rolling off the couch with a loud crashing of bottles being shattered and crushed
"aw shit" the Grey Knight as he pushed himself to his feet
by now everyone in the room were getting up, though most jumped at the sound of the grey knight falling
"ah now ye'v darn it ya wankah" the chaplain said, pushing himself upright
"feels loik meh fookin 'eads gunna fawl awf" the Lich grumbled as he too rose
"roit. baycan an eegs toim oi reckon" the chaplain said, crushing bottles as he moved for the door, though he had to make his way past the ooze first
"fark jack, ye'd think ye'd be able to foind samwhare bettar ta sleep wouldn't'ya" the chaplain complained as he did so.
"oi need a farking pannadoll" the chaplian muttered to himself as he left the room.
atop a couch that seems like it's going to collase at any moment, sprawled over the armrests snore two men in terminator armor, one a grey knight chapter master fidgeting with a stormbolter in his sleep, the other, a chaplain with a pipe laying just next to his gaping mouth, holds an empty bottle of vodka in each gauntleted fist.
head resting on the point where the two suits of terminator armor meet, a kilt clad Lich slumbers silently, dark fires smouldering in empty eye sockets.
across the sea of bottles, a group of soldiers in various states and types of BDU gear sleep in a tight group, one even has a fox resting atop his chest, their breathing seemingly in sync.
closest to the window, a pile of ooze bubbles gently like a small, living puddle.
midday light blares through a gap in the curtains, and the man with the fox on his chest opens his eyes and watches it warily, though he does not stir.
the light however hits the trio on the couch, and almost as one they groan, which in turn sets off a chain reaction, as the bleary eyed iwakuians awoke
"oh fark me dead" the Terminator with the bottles croaks, turning his head so that it faces away from the light, his pipe seemingly stuck to the fleshy side of his face
"urg, wassappenin' ah meh fookin ead" the Lich, eyes now lighting up like a fire restarting as he was jostled by the stormbolterm armed Terminator rolling off the couch with a loud crashing of bottles being shattered and crushed
"aw shit" the Grey Knight as he pushed himself to his feet
by now everyone in the room were getting up, though most jumped at the sound of the grey knight falling
"ah now ye'v darn it ya wankah" the chaplain said, pushing himself upright
"feels loik meh fookin 'eads gunna fawl awf" the Lich grumbled as he too rose
"roit. baycan an eegs toim oi reckon" the chaplain said, crushing bottles as he moved for the door, though he had to make his way past the ooze first
"fark jack, ye'd think ye'd be able to foind samwhare bettar ta sleep wouldn't'ya" the chaplain complained as he did so.
"oi need a farking pannadoll" the chaplian muttered to himself as he left the room.
