I blame you for me playing the Zoombinis and guiding Siobhan through a couple of playthroughs. Anyway, my current big fandoms are Warhammer 40,000 and Repo! The Genetic Opera, and I won't subject the Zoombinis to Repo Men. ("But you will to the grim darkness of the far future, where there is only war?" Shut up.)
* * *
Fabius Bile looked over his plan, as much as was possible with his face firmly buried in one heavily gloved hand. On the surface, it all seemed so simple, so elegant, so fittingly brilliant of the Primogenitor - and a perfect solution to a problem that would stymie so many. He'd gone through the path of trials with a full squad of Chosen (and when he had what he wanted from this land there would be a fitting Warp-spawned punishment for the entire pizza troll species, oh yes...) his native brilliance solving each puzzle within the minute, only to find that the fascinating genetic mismatches were guarded by a full detachment of Ultramarines. Hence this small army of auxilliaries, enough to break Calgar's men to fragments, that Bile had been sure he could lead through the puzzles with the greatest of ease.
What hadn't he considered? What had escaped the Clonelord's brilliant mind? What had gone wrong?
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" his Orks shouted, as they attempted - once more - to storm over the uppermost bridge, all together in a rush, waving sluggas and choppas in the air.
Ah, yes, Fabius reflected as the Orks flew backwards. He hadn't considered Orks.
"It is not difficult, Warboss," he explained to the biggest of the Orks, trying to keep his patience barely leashed as the Warboss looked down on him with a suspicious eye. "The living sculpture beneath the uppermost bridge has an adverse reaction to your shootas, twin-linked shootas, and big shootas. The living sculpture beneath the lower bridge has a similar adverse reaction to your big choppas and power klaws. You must simply split your army into two parts, in order to safely cross the chasm. In your case, for example..."
Fabius looked over the massive Ork, the vicious power klaw that finished his left arm, and the hefty twin-linked shoota over his back.
"Perhaps I could carry your gun," he suggested.
"You can haz my gun, Chaos-boy, when I'z dead," the Warboss said, before rethinking. "Wait. No you can't. Orkses don't split up. If Orks has a big Waaagh!, and splits it in half, then dere is... four Waaagh!s, all puny..."
"Two," Fabius insisted.
"We com-pro-mise, den, free. Free Waaagh!s dat is not as big as de one Waaagh! so it's like dere's no Waaagh! at all and den I's got no Orks, right?"
One of the army's Gretchin was stacking up the logs that had been blown down into something like a ramp. Fabius forced himself to watch it and wonder why it was doing that in place of trying to follow Ork logic, which he was sure was rotting his brilliant mind. When his research was finished, he decided, the New Man would be able to perform basic arithmetic at the age of two months. "But then you won't get across the bridges," he explained, "and there'll be no chance to fight the Space Marines."
"You tries, Bile, but you is stupid," the Warboss explained, making a gesture that would tousle Fabius's hair if he had any. Fabius stopped himself from filling the Ork with Xyclos needles only through the knowledge that the shots probably wouldn't kill it, and then it would rip his head off. "Orkses can always solve problems."
And with that, he unslung the shoota from his back, and covered the stone faces with heavy barrage fire. Solidly built, both remained completely unharmed, but... apparently, both were very, very allergic to bullets.
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Fabius Bile looked over his plan, as much as was possible with his face firmly buried in one heavily gloved hand. On the surface, it all seemed so simple, so elegant, so fittingly brilliant of the Primogenitor - and a perfect solution to a problem that would stymie so many. He'd gone through the path of trials with a full squad of Chosen (and when he had what he wanted from this land there would be a fitting Warp-spawned punishment for the entire pizza troll species, oh yes...) his native brilliance solving each puzzle within the minute, only to find that the fascinating genetic mismatches were guarded by a full detachment of Ultramarines. Hence this small army of auxilliaries, enough to break Calgar's men to fragments, that Bile had been sure he could lead through the puzzles with the greatest of ease.
What hadn't he considered? What had escaped the Clonelord's brilliant mind? What had gone wrong?
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" his Orks shouted, as they attempted - once more - to storm over the uppermost bridge, all together in a rush, waving sluggas and choppas in the air.
Ah, yes, Fabius reflected as the Orks flew backwards. He hadn't considered Orks.
"It is not difficult, Warboss," he explained to the biggest of the Orks, trying to keep his patience barely leashed as the Warboss looked down on him with a suspicious eye. "The living sculpture beneath the uppermost bridge has an adverse reaction to your shootas, twin-linked shootas, and big shootas. The living sculpture beneath the lower bridge has a similar adverse reaction to your big choppas and power klaws. You must simply split your army into two parts, in order to safely cross the chasm. In your case, for example..."
Fabius looked over the massive Ork, the vicious power klaw that finished his left arm, and the hefty twin-linked shoota over his back.
"Perhaps I could carry your gun," he suggested.
"You can haz my gun, Chaos-boy, when I'z dead," the Warboss said, before rethinking. "Wait. No you can't. Orkses don't split up. If Orks has a big Waaagh!, and splits it in half, then dere is... four Waaagh!s, all puny..."
"Two," Fabius insisted.
"We com-pro-mise, den, free. Free Waaagh!s dat is not as big as de one Waaagh! so it's like dere's no Waaagh! at all and den I's got no Orks, right?"
One of the army's Gretchin was stacking up the logs that had been blown down into something like a ramp. Fabius forced himself to watch it and wonder why it was doing that in place of trying to follow Ork logic, which he was sure was rotting his brilliant mind. When his research was finished, he decided, the New Man would be able to perform basic arithmetic at the age of two months. "But then you won't get across the bridges," he explained, "and there'll be no chance to fight the Space Marines."
"You tries, Bile, but you is stupid," the Warboss explained, making a gesture that would tousle Fabius's hair if he had any. Fabius stopped himself from filling the Ork with Xyclos needles only through the knowledge that the shots probably wouldn't kill it, and then it would rip his head off. "Orkses can always solve problems."
And with that, he unslung the shoota from his back, and covered the stone faces with heavy barrage fire. Solidly built, both remained completely unharmed, but... apparently, both were very, very allergic to bullets.