#egregorian

[volno]

"I DON'T LIKE 'EM PUTTING CHEMICALS IN THE WATER THAT TURN THE FREAKING MOTHS GAY" - someone at Harrison Armoury at one point probably

[strixludica]

Faith of the one: the world is broken and must be cleansed in flame to build it anew

Typical Human: ugh, another apocalypse cult? Get some original material.

My Egregorian character:

[mizublackriverdragon-blog]

Another SFW, yes! But honestly I am really happy with this one! It's another Egregorian that I pushed the head design a bit, been reading a lot of Kill 6 Billion Demons, so it rubbed a lot on his design haha~ It was really fun~!

[littleouroboros]

???tober Day 5: The Three Body Problem

[girldong]

Old Verity/Cypress shitposts Mal and I did

[mimicmerchant]

xX_oneoftherest_Xx is the best e-girl.

[explorermoo]

Sketch page for @captainbragd-personal ! Characters from our LANCER campaign!! Thank you so much for the support c: Check out my Ko-Fi for rewards here!

Posted using PostyBirb

[voldrinofthenorth]

Alistair: Sure, HORUS might be terrorists, but to be fair, how many lives have been taken taken by Harrison's military industrial complex?

Lamplight (holding a grenade): All of them!

Loki: Please don't tell my CO I was here...

@vexwerewolf So we played In Golden Flame tonight and oh boy, we went to the circus! The silly animatronics being secretly disguised combat mechs was a nice touch, and I appreciated being able to squash some with a run away ferris wheel. Our buddy Rich Boy came to help and was a bit perplexed that we knew what his experimental frame could do. We told him we read about it on the HORUS forums and he said "wait, the terrorists??" He's adorable.

Also, the mechanics aren't gonna be happy that our Chomolungma got exploded... Again. Direct hits are rough. He'll be fine, though.

[hra-official]

Update on the SSC goon squad/Lich situation

I'd like to reassure this account's followers that I returned (mostly) safe and sound from the joint Ranger Corps/@officialunionhr operation.

Me and [REDACTED] managed to chat a while over a spot of tea before they went off to discuss the handling of the captured operatives with HUC command.

Also, @horus-unofficial was absolutely right: it is super funny when a smug designer baby in a Death's Head realizes you just retconned their perfectly lined up killshot.

Experiencing time non-linearly is also a very intresting experience I thought was exclusive to Memorial Morphs. Honestly I think this spooky boy might be used more for enlightenment than combat. Also for testing if the reactors of reclaimed mecha are still safe; it's going to be way faster if you can just come back from dying of meltdown instead of having to run dozens of test procedures.

Aniway, we should be returning to our usual business of promoting the HRA catalogue. Up next is a closer look at the SnapDragon disposable missile silo.

[bingobongobonko]

weeping thinking abt egregorians. theyre so fucking small. it only just occurred to me how small they are. 4.92 feet on average... dude... hassan is like 5'11...

my goognes..

[johnybones56]

I feel like our GM probably should have known not to run No Room for a Wallflower the second we decided, just after character creation, that we were playing as a mercenary outfit called Ratwork PMC.

Anyway, we're one session in, have already used our downtime to found a militia as part of a longterm plan to take over the colonial government, and one of us responded to possibility of attacks by Egregorians with "listen, we're serious professionals. Doesn't matter what they are, they're about to be soup."

[volno]

Cute moth person from Hercynia, what crimes have they committed? (accidentally shot and killed a civilian while filming a documentary)

[strixludica]

A little christmas episode I wrote for my Lancer x Mass Effect fic

Farlight Blue - Spegeldal - Sparr​

In the streets of Spegeldal, the celebrations of Yuletide were in full swing: little children dressed as the Yule Lads went from door to door, threatening tricks and curses if they didn't get some eggnog; while their older siblings competed in teams to topple the others' snowman with snowballs. In every plaza scaled down statues of hunted Vast, in straw and timber, burned bright and warm against the cold gleam of the aurora. From a window in Clan Blåman's meadhall, Farlight watched their merriment with mixed yearning and exhaustion. It really did look like a lot of fun playing in the snow, but they'd needed to put on four layers of coats and socks just not to have their body go numb in the harsh sparri winter, and if it hadn't been for those weird nets called tennis rackets, their limbs would have sunk to the joints at every step. Despite the rigors of the weather, visiting Sigurd's home was a welcome relief after the tour to Cradle. Aside from everything else - and there had been a lot of else - this foray into human society had tested Farlight's proficiency in speech: they'd thought they were quite used to speaking with humans; they'd done it their whole lives. But once they'd had to do it with complete aliens for months, Farlight had truly realised how convoluted it could be, how exhausting it was to have to think in loops to figure out what conclusion someone expected you to take from their words, what assumptions they were based on, instead of simply exchanging information. Here on Sparr though, despite the many differences, Farlight almost felt as if they were witnessing again. When they'd first seen him wandering Hivehome, Farlight had thought Sigurd was especially extroverted and blunt; but it turned out that was just how his people were: they wore their feelings on their faces. The Union leaders and bureaucrats they'd spoken to had been courteous and polite, and many others even friendly; but always guardedly, afraid to cause offence and careful of what they were implying. The Blåman's excitement and warmth radiated off them like heat from a fire: it was clear without ever being said that being Sigurd's friend made Farlight everyone's friend. For hours, they and the people of the clan had exchanged stories: a saga of the harrowing march from the Yuga Pocket for one of the war against the Machine, a tale of a hunting expedition for one of recovering ancient artefacts, a recounting of the great caverns under the ice where the Vast dwelled for a canticle of doomed Hivehome and its vast undersea. Finally, however, they'd had to take a rest, and so the children were ushered out to play, their parents had taken to drinking and mingling among themselves, and Farlight had been left free to wander on their own. The hall was crowded with mementos, relics and trophies: on stones etched with Sagas, weapons sized for mech and human alike menaced and gleamed - Tallgrass and William would die of envy when Farlight returned to Mycol Fields - from the walls and ceiling were hung the heads of frightful beasts, some the size of a Warform, and one horned, three-eyed skull between whose fangs Endeavor themselves could have sat with room to spare. But just as Sigurd had declared almost three years ago, the place of honour was reserved for what the two of them had brought all the way from Hercynia: an assault hardsuit made with carapace Farlight themselves had gifted, and The Sword. Divested of the augmentations which Sigurd had installed on it so he could always take it into battle, the metre-and-a-half long scythe of gleaming, steely black bone sat upon an inscribed pillar, whose runes read:

BROOD-SIBLING'S MOLT GIFTED UNTO SIGURD FREYSON BY SUPREME COMMANDER TERROR OF HIVEHOME ON THE THIRD OF AUGUST 5014U SLAYER OF OVERLAND/KINGWATCHER AND ITS SPAWN IN THE LANGUAGE OF OF THE EGREGORIAN KIND IS ETCHED UPON ITS SIDES THE LIVING SAGA OF ITS GIFTING​

So that's what Sigurd and his Lance had been pestering Memory about the evening after they'd recovered the eggs. The sides of the sword were etched from tip to handle with osteomemetics - it was a complex memory indeed. On the left side, Farlight witnessed Sigurd's memory of [Surprise/Joy/Pride], his kneeling down in [Awe/Amazement], taking the blade with [Reverence/Love/Care]. The greatest warrior of the Egregorian people, who had so much reason to distrust him, had just entrusted him with a blade of their very flesh, an incomparable [Trophy/Relic]. There was only one way the [Memory/Legend] of his battles could go now. Sigurd would defend Terror and their kin with deeds [Worthy/Equal] of that blade, or die trying. On the right side, Farlight witnessed Terror's [Surprise/Doubt] at the sight of Sigurd swearing his loyalty unto his last breath, a moment of [Suspicion] that this was an attempt at [Flattery/Manipulation], and then the sight of that wide smile erupting across Sigurd's face, those eyes bright like a child's, and the [Realisation/Shift/Understanding] that the human in front of them meant every word he was saying. [Joy/Laugh/Relief/Hope] Maybe better times were coming. Farlight realised Sigurd had been standing next to them for some time. "Is the display adequate for the gift?", he asked, "I'd hate to think we weren't doing it justice" "It's perfect", Farlight replied. And they meant it.

[mizublackriverdragon-blog]

Drawing this guy for a potential Lancer (A scifi Mech tabletop RPG)! Had a lot of fun drawing him! Spoilers for Wallflower but if you know nothing about Wallflower or don't pay attention... you won't even know what he is.

I love Egregorians <3

[mascotyouth]

i drew a cool bug! hes an egregorian, an alien bug species from the ttrpg Lancer.

his name is frisson, most egregorians are named after emotions, ideals, stuff like that.

[hra-official]

Omg they're literally me

african peach moth (egybolis vaillantina) | source