shitposting rave 5: discount rejects from every genre

ANYWAY, I've met Quintus and taken his workshop and he's nuts so he can probably help you. Good luck making babies proper!

-She winks. Embarassing auntie go!'

 

[She snickers immaturely]

 

have I got a medbay story for you bro

 

Some of us think the Creator... might be keeping an eye on things. There was a demon, completely fucking mad but that's because she'd been around for ages. Those of us that used to be human don't age so well. But she was old enough to be a tough bitch and she thought, if our war is pretty much just keeping the angels busy so we can do what we want... why not keep them really busy. "Whoops I broke how galaxies work" busy. Little problem: we need all that shit working so we can exist. But she was crazy and crazy strong and went off to go break the fundamentals of the universe. And then she vanished. But the angels- all of them suddenly got real busy. Not "oh shit that's important and now it's very broken" busy, but "boss is gonna drop in everyone has a fire under their ass" busy. "Quick someone hand me a job I can't be seen standing around" busy. Some think she managed to unmake herself from the effort of breaking something from the early original Design, but you'd there'd be more... cosmic backlash from something like that. Not... -little 'poof' gesture- gone.

And the angels had a contingency for too much Chaos among humanity but. Well. Note past-tense. -there's nothing so unsubtle as a sudden distancing, she doesn't so much emotionally shutter herself at that bit as she does the emotional equivalent of 'turning off all the lights but leaving the TV on so people think there's someone home'-

 

the fact that my disgusting fuckin spiel brought this to the forefront of your memory means you need to share with the class right the hell now
get up in front of the chalkboard its time for show and tell kiddies
well hopefully not show but

 

-Phaedrus stares, trying to work out what to make of this, then gives in and laughs properly. It's a pleasant laugh, warm and not awkward at all, and it makes you feel warm and fuzzy. He is a demigod, after all-

Hmm...

...That's a very weird face you're pulling.

-he does the not-quite-robot-blush thing again- Erm, thank you.

 

Oh Primus no I've got a few mods but I ain't that crazy

Spoiler: genital talk

So I'm a medic, right, I deal with all the slag comin' in off the battlefield what ain't close enough to dead for the brass to call scrapped, all that fun slag
So this guy comes in with a crushed hip-- think he got slammed with someone else's corpse? I forget honestly, but lots'a pressure damage without actually breaking the plating enough for us to get in there at anything, so natch we gotta take the guy's whole pelvic assembly apart to unfuck the joint enough for him to walk again, an' the pelvic assembly includes, y'know, the groin area. So we get all the plating off-- we undented most of it eventually, no big, that's easy-- and I shit you not he's replaced his spike with an honest-to-Epistemus laser rifle. I don't remember how in the Pit we managed not to crack up then an' there, but hand to Primus our code guy looked it over later-- we took scans of p much every patient as a routine thing, blame Intelligence if you wanna-- and it actually fired when he got off. I dunno how he ever got laid with that but it's sure as frag seared into my memory banks now!

 

Why I never, are you suspecting me of hiiiiiiding something?
[She grins, all innocence. Well as much innocence as someone whose painting is matte brass and vantablack can manage.]

 

*sighs* Yes, it is exhausting - well, was - but not destroy-the-world exhausting...

I think Ford was feeling pretty desperate back when he did.

 

Literally always. Always. -he's smiling though-

 

[Still incongruously cheerful:] Fine print is fine print! Desperation does many a lovely thing for negotiations.

 

-Laverna is also decidedly NOT joining the summoning conversation, not no fuck no. Ordinarily she'd be cackling about demons inventing vague contracts but. No.-

-though she might be shortly anyway-

 

Tell that to someone whose sole source of sustenance is destruction and who had just been denied his price. My rates are cheap. Not everyone's are. That is why the consort actually does research before fucking around with more silly useless lumps.

 

Yes. It was.

And oh. Yes. That makes sense. You are... robots, aren't you? Robots that somehow reproduce while still being robots and apparently... have deities, some of which are here right now.... even though my species has proved that there aren't any gods out there...

 

Boooo~
You'll ruin your surprise.

 

holy fucking shit

Spoiler: more of the same

tbf if i could replace my bits and it wouldnt render me functionally celibate id absolutely swap out my crotch rocket for a rotation of hilarious and unusual sets of tackle
if he figured out a way to make it work i cant blame him
just imagine the possibilities
why yes that is a literal cucumber do you have a problem with that

maybe not where youre from but were lousy with gods here

 

-has been staring at Grimm. Slowly, very slowly, she goes from a muffled giggle to falling over laughing-

 

Not matter how often you say that, I always still manage to be surprised anyway.

 

Weirdmageddon. Destruction of the very fabric of reality. Lots and lots of death. Manipulation. Any of that getting you sympathetic to our plight yet?

Tell Bill about the good of the many being more important than the good of the one. You know, what Spock said. Tell him that. 'Cause it's kinda true, you know... And definitely on the cosmic scale of Weirdmageddon.

 

*flatly* Apparently.