#neocho

[aquachoni]

Aggie drawings

You all already know that the octo next to Ocho is @paintscraperer s OC Neo!! If you don't... wtf are you doing??!!

[askmalal]

This year, for Halloween…

Khorne has been convinced to dress as ‘Bert’ to Lotara’s ‘Ernie.’ He’s been practicing the voice all week. Almost has it down. It would be quite a hit if we could convince him to stop eating the pigeons.

Nurgle will be dressing as Penicillin. He’s been showering for weeks. I’ve quite literally never seen him so clean. Not since he ascended, anyway.

Slaanesh will, simply, be dressed. A new and bold direction.

Tzeentch will be dressing as an ordinary human. He reckons that’ll really mess with his followers. I admit that the bird fucker is on to something. I tried to convince him to go as a Gnome. No dice.

Neocho does not believe in Halloween, or trick or treating, or kindness, and so will be dressed as Richard Dawkins.

Nuffle is dressing as a Tumblr blogger with an “informed” opinion about the current Israel-Palestine conflict. It’s predominantly comprised of anti-Arab bigotry, anti-Semitism, and a lot of noise signifying nothing.

I myself will be dressed as Aaron Dembski-Bowden. I’ll walk about the streets, making definitive statements about stories and ‘canon’ that are neither definitive nor canonical. I’ve convinced Hashut to dress as GW, since he doesn’t actually need to do anything but refuse to comment for or against anything I say.

Gary (the Horned Rat,) however, is doing something very special. He’ll be dressed as every meaningful storyline in Fallout 76. He gets to spend the night on the couch, doing whatever he wants…

[askmalal]

“So Tzeentch has birbs, Slaanesh has sneks, Khorne has puppers, Nurgle has flies. What’s your animal?”

Lovely question, Little Mortal. Assuming you mean other than my well stated fondness for black and white animals?

So, you types tend to depict me in a very large number of ways. Which is fair, and which is why I’m often described as “formless.” But most often, I seem to be seen as a three eyed wolf. Which must annoy Magnus to no end, given he chooses that form in his spirit questing journeys - though he is a ginger (or that’s what they say, can’t see color.) I believe very early references describe me as a dragon type thing.

If you are really into concept art, however, there were a large number of spider like things in some of the concept sketches for my daemons, so I suppose that’s a thing. More Atlach-Natcha’s deal, but I borrow it from time to time. I rather like spiders.

I am what you want me to be, mortal-bae.

[askmalal]

Me: So, what kind of music -do- you like?

Khorne: WHO’S ASKING?

Me: It was just an interesting statement I saw directed at Absinthe, I think, via tumblr.

Khorne: WHAT DID THE STATEMENT CLAIM?

Me: That you only like trumpets and bagpipes. And maybe other military instruments.

Khorne: LIKE FIFE AND DRUM, BAZOOKIE, HURDY-GURDY. CISTRUM. CAMEL DRUM. THOSE PIPES HOPLITES PLAYED?

Me: I don’t think humans all remember their history further than about a century ago. But yes.

Khorne: RUDE! I LIKE OTHER MUSIC, TOO.

Me: Yeah?

Khorne: GUITAR, ACCOUSTIC AND ELECTRIC. MANDOLIN. LYRE. OOH! BANJO.

Me: You like the banjo?

Khorne: YES.

Me: It’s a very happy instrument.

Khorne: STEVE MARTIN TAUGHT ME TO PLAY.

Me: Eh?

Khorne: I WAS AN EXTRA ON ‘THREE AMIGOS’

Me: Oh yeah? What did you do?

Khorne: MARTIN SHORT’s STUNT DOUBLE.

Me: Wha...

Khorne: SO YES. ALSO COLDPLAY. I LIKE COLDPLAY.

Me: Wouldn’t have figured you for a Coldplay fan. Ego aside, Coldplay do have some lovely songs.

Khorne: DO YOU HAVE A FAVORITE BAND? LET’S SAY HUMAN, TWENTIETH-TWENTY FIRST CENTURY, POST SECOND WORLD WAR.

Me: That limits it.

Khorne: KEEPS SCOPE REASONABLE. YEAH?

Slaanesh: Frankie Goes to Hollywood!

Khorne: I WAS ASKING MALAL. BUT, SURE, INTRUDE ON OUR PRIVATE, BROTHERLY... CONSTANTINE VALDOR!

Nuffle: *shrieks*

Hashut: The Police. Bonus: Not a single waxed beard among them.

Me: Yeah. They’re good. Very, very good.

Neosho: I don’t believe in popular music. So, I’m still a fan of Englebert Humperdink. And Robert Goulet.

Me: Both were very popular in their time, and still are with some people.

Neosho: Then I shall have to find something else. William Shatner singing anything, perhaps.

Khorne: MALAL?

Me: Well, I li...

Nurgle: Phil Collins. Specifically “No Jacket Required.” Now there is a solid, rockin’ good time.

Me: Patton Oswalt has a joke about that.

Nurgle: Why? It’s classy stuff. All you need, kid. Just kick back in your easy chair with an ecto-cooler, some hydrox cookies...

Me: We are going to get you the help you need, grandfather.

Khorne: -MALAL?-

Nuffle: Hamilton, Joe, Frank, and Reynolds. Don’t pour your love out on me bab-beee!!!

Me: Constantine Valdor.

Nuffle: *yipes* NOO! KEEP BAD MAN AWAY!!!!

Me: As I was saying, I really have no favorite. Plenty of things I like. Many I dislike. I’ve destroyed cities because of bad music. Port Royale Jamaica? Invented the oompah sound. Had to go.

Tzeentch: I like a good spoken word over jazz mix.

Me: Good lords...

Tzeentch: *jazzy beat begins in the background* Sad man walkin... *snaps fingers* where does he go? He’s going to the ruins, zip zop zeep, of old Prosper-o. *snaps fingers* Pretty little redhead, tiss tiss. Married to Malal, tiss tiss. Boudicca’s a watchin. *snaps fingers* as them teardrops...

Me: *interrupts* STOP.

Gary: I like funk. Actually. Big fan of anything funky. And James Brown. Inspired it, you know.

Me: You know, he...

Khorne: *interrupts* WAIT. WHY DOES TZEENTCH GET A BACKING SECTION?

@particularcustodian @randomnightlord

[askmalal]

You want opinions? Alright. I only know 5 so I'll give my opinion of the 5. Khorne: I'd like you but my ears don't. Nurgle: I want a refund for my nose. Slaanesh: nice colour scheme, bad choice of daemons, also keepers of secrets sound tzeentchian. Tzeentch: your riddles are annoying, not hard, bro get some philosophers, and your bird fetish is showing. Malal: such mysterious, very malice, much unknown, wow, are the alpha legion your bois or?

Oh. This is -delightful- anon....

Me: Brothers and Sisters, a message from the mundane. One of those “give me your honest opinions of XYZ.”

Nurgle: Oh, interesting! And what is it about?

Me: All of us.

Nurgle: Meh.

Me: Ahem, Khorne.

Khorne: YES?!

Me: “I would like you, but my ears don’t.”

Khorne: THANK YOU. WAIT... WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?

Me: I think perhaps your vol...

Khorne: I MEAN, DOES THE MORTAL THINK THAT I SMELL BAD? VALKIA LIKES THIS CREOSOTE COLOGNE.

Angron: NO, DAD. MORTALS DON’T USE THEIR EARS TO SMELL IN THIS DIMENSION.

Khorne: OH. YES. I FORGOT.

Angron: I THINK IT MEANS THAT YOU MIGHT BE TALKING TOO LOUDLY.

Khorne: AHH. I SUPPOSE MY VOICE DOES CARRY.

Hashut: Holy hell. My brain hurts.

Me: WHAT?!

Hashut: I said...

Me: Ahem. Grandfather.

Nurgle: Yes, monochrome grandson?

Me: “I want a refund for my nose.”

Nurgle: Well, I didn’t design it. That’s above my pay grade. Young whipper snappers today. With their fancy organs and protrusions and such. Why, when I was young.

Slaanesh: When you were young, Nurgle, every reality was dust in the eyes of The Creator.

Me: I believe, Grandfather, that the mortal is suggesting that you smell bad.

Nurgle: Nonsense. I smell of life. I smell of the very stuff of life and death. I have a masculine musk.

Tzeentch: You smell like someone vomited n a dirty diaper baked in a Subway restaurant oven.

Nurgle: It is a -very- masculine musk.

Me: Ahh. Slaanesh.

Slaanesh: Oooh!

Me: “Nice color scheme...”

Slaanesh: Thank you. I thought you couldn’t see color.

Me: I can’t. This is from the mortal.

Slaanesh: Ahh. Well, thank you, sweetie!

Me: They continue, “...Bad choice of daemons.”

Slaanesh: How so? Half naked sexpots with lobster claws for hands riding on ridiculously perilous mounts. Also, cow-sex-beast things, and all of them with whips.

Me: Your daemons, little sister, spend more time copulating than fighting.

Slaanesh: It’s a form of wrestling.

Nuffle: Hey! Did someone mention wrestling?!

Me: The mortal goes on to say, “also, keeper of secrets sound Tzeentchian.” I must say I agree. I’ve felt that way for a long time.

Tzeentch: Ian’s what, now?

Slaanesh: But I -adore- secrets. So juicy!

Nurgle: You should try keeping them.

Slaanesh: Well, what’s the fun in that? Not my fault the entire continent of Africa knows your search history.

Nurgle: That material was for research!

Me: Ahem. Which brings us to Tzeentch, my favorite.

Tzeentch: *obscene gesture*

Neocho: I don’t believe in favorites.

Me: Scratch that. Second favorite.

Tzeentch: Thank you? I think?

Me: “Your riddles are annoying, not hard, bro...”

Tzeentch: That’s because you’re not finished solving them.

Me: We all know you get many of your riddles from Reader’s Digest...

Tzeentch: Lies. All lies.

Me: “Get some philosophers.”

Tzeentch: I want to bring about the great scheme, not spend a thousand years debating the fundamental question of what a question is. Also, I have philosophers. Who do you think made Nietszche?

Me: -I- did.

Tzeentch: Well, who made Hippocrates?!

Nurgle: I did.

Tzeentch: Plato?!

Slaanesh: *raises hand*

Tzeentch: Thales?!!

Nuffle: *raises hand*

Tzeentch: Xenophon?

Khorne: ME.

Tzeentch: I hate you all.

Me: You get Socrates.

Tzeentch: Meh.

Me: It continues, “And your bird fetish is showing.”

Tzeentch: Fetish. Really. How rude.

Slaanesh: Some fetishes are unhealthy, big brother.

Tzeentch: Says the person who made BDSM Cows.

Slaanesh: CONSENTING Bovines.

Tzeentch: Sigvald the Magnificent.

Slaanesh: Look, whatever a consenting... Nevermind. Withdrawn.

Tzeentch: The Ancient Egyptians associated the gods of wisdom and magic, Thoth being the most relevant, with birds. I like the look. It’s funky fresh.

Me: Isn’t the entire point of change that your form is unpredictable?

Tzeentch: It’s new, it’s hip, it’s the latest thing!

Me: By twenty first century earth standards, it is...

Tzeentch: I HAVE SPOKEN!

Hashut: *grabs letter* “Malal...”

Me: Yes?

Hashut: “Such mysterious, very malice, much unknown, wow...”

Me: Aww. Thank you, Anonymous Mortal.

Slaanesh: Did you write that yourself?

Me: No.

Slaanesh: Are you sure?

Khorne: THE SMUG BASTARD DOESN’T LIE.

Hashut: It goes on. “Are the Alpha Legion your boys, or...?”

Me: Alpharius is -such- an ass.

Nurgle: Doesn’t answer the question.

Me: I cannot lie.

Hashut: And...?

Me: That would be telling.

Hashut: That’s a shifty way to avoid answering the question.

Me: It is. But it is honest.

Khorne: YOU ARE -LITERALLY- THE WORST PERSON I KNOW.

Nuffle: What does the mortal say about me?!

Khorne: SECOND WORST.

[askmalal]

Nurgle: Do any of you have a favorite faction in the Old World?

Me: Which one?

Nurgle: Sigmar’s homeworld. The one that is absolutely not Middle Earth redrawn.

Me: Ahh! I see.

Khorne: I ALWAYS LIKED THE NORSCANS.

Me: Shocking.

Khorne: WAR MAMMOTHS.

Me: Okay, yes. Those absolutely are awesome.

Nuffle: I like Stormcast!

Nurgle: Those aren’t an Old World Faction.

Tzeentch: On balance, I must say that the eternal infighting within The Empire of Man truly did the heavy lifting for me. Making the most competent candidate for the throne a vampire? That was inspired.

Khorne: I DO NOT THINK YOU DID THAT, TZEE..

Tzeentch: *interrupts* I HAVE SPOKEN!

Nuffle: I mean, the Ossiarchs are interesting. Too bad about the link to Meany Pants.

Me: Do you mean Nagash?

Nuffle: Yeah. Tall guy. Big head.

Nurgle: Ossiarchs: also not a thing in the Old World.

Slaanesh: Bretonnia. Loved Bretonnia. So many gorgeous women cavorting in ponds. So many handsome men in tight pants.

Me: The codpiece was your idea, wasn’t it?

Slaanesh: Oooh yes.

Hashut: I really liked the Lizardmen of old.

Tzeentch: WHAT?!

Hashut: Honestly just kidding. What did you THINK I was going to say?

Neocho: I don’t believe in fantasy worlds.

Me: And yet here you are. A god. With access to any reality you wish.

Neocho: No. I don’t believe in that.

Me: You quite literally are astral projecting at this very moment.

Neocho: Nonsense. Impossible. Also? I rode over with Nuffle in his cat detector van.

Me: Good grief.

Nuffle: Ultramarines. Love their colors. The Roman theme is cool, too.

Me: Not even in the same time period, let alone the Old World.

Nurgle: I mean, there -are-links...

Me: We don’t talk about the links.

Hashut: And you, Nurgle?

Nurgle: I must say I admired the Pygmies. It’s a real shame the humans have only seen the racist stereotypes made for that miniatures game.

Me: Generslly speaking, in terms of utility, I would have to align myself with Vlad Von Carstein.

Nurgle: Yes, utility. Always utility. Isn’t there someone you genuinely liked?

Me: Malice? Liking something beyond his own followers?

Khorne: WE KNOW YOU GOT ON WITH CURZE AND HORUS. AND BOSTON TERRIERS. AND BOUDICCA.

Me: Yes, yes. But entire civilizations? Fine? Honestly, despite the fact I hate both excessive facial hair and slavery, I had some sympathy for the Chaos Dwarves. Dwarves, in general, are awful, awful people.

Hashut: True that.

Nuffle: Silver Skulls?

Nurgle: Also Space Marines. Also a different setting.

Me: *continues* And it’s true I have a fondness for Halflings. The only people in all of the Old World never to oppress or enslave anyone.

Khorne: NOT EXACTLY WORLD BURNERS.

Me: This time they weren’t, no.

Gary: I sort of admired the people of Khemri. I mean, they beat the ever living hell out of my people, -but-.

Me: Settra was, is, a man to be admired. Never cowed, never broken. Too bad about Nagash.

Khorne: NAGASH IS AN ARSE.

Nurgle: Agreed. Can we work out a way to completely screw him over, this time round?

Tzeentch: I’m in.

Khorne: RIGHTO!

Me: Absolutely.

Gary: Sure. Why not?

Slaanesh: He’s a total party pooper. Agreed. Though I am a bit... restrained in that reality. And not in a good way.

Neocho: I don’t believe in revenge.

Nuffle: Yay! I’ll get the art supplies!

[askmalal]

What is the correct way to deal with fulgrim?

That, dear ones, is a rather difficult conundrum absent context, though it is a fair question.

Making a deal with Fulgrim? Perhaps you simply want to distract him?

Having an orgy planet helps... but you probably don’t have access to that. And I’m not making some oblique reference to a corner of the dark web.

So what to do?

Give him something that makes him extremely happy. Extrarordinarily. This is not so easy. At dinner, Boudicca suggested, and I paraphrase here, that one might be able to buy him off or distract him with a battleship full of marital aids.

The problem with that, of course, is that Fulgrim has literally been there and done that. No, honestly. Think of that thing - that dirty, secret thing that really gets you going, as you mortals say; Fulgrim has done it. Plus sixteen thousand plus variations thereupon. He is a superhuman, and thus has superhuman appetites. Give him an inch, and he will absolutely not demand the mile, because he’s already had it, and now he’s just bored...

The trick - and it isn’t really a trick in the malicious sense (and I -fucking know- malicious, don’t I?) is to find something he hasn’t done, some thrill he hasn’t experienced. An exotic drug, a truly rare piece of art, a crate of something so lascivious that even most Slaanesh worshippers would say “that is a step too far for me. I’m out.” That is difficult, but not impossible.

The weakness of all my little sister’s followers is an extreme demand for sensation - a desire for sensory overload so acute that it blinds them to many things. Use that against them, against him, and you will very likely find what you need to motivate him, for your good or the greater good, at least for a time. Anathaema knows he can’t control himself when something new and intriguing arises. And remember: no matter what Fulgrim might say, he isn’t a god. Few of his kind have achieved that. Very few. And he is most certainly not among them. He wouldn’t care for it anyway: too much responsibility. Slaanesh barely gets by, and she was quite literally made for the job.

That said? I asked my brothers and sisters, Anon. I thought perhaps their responses might please you.

Me: Okay. Another mortal seeking wisdom. And they ask “What is the correct way to deal with Fulgrim?”

Tzeentch: Did you already answer with some boring, logical, infuriatingly superior answer, brother dear?

Me: I did. I am sure they would appreciate the insight. Of some of you anyway.

Nuffle: Aww, he isn’t that bad. Just find an activity you can do together. For example, he’s suggested we wrestle next time we cross paths. That sounds wonderful! A sport Fulgrim and I can enjoy together.

Slaanesh: I honestly have conflicted emotions about how to respond to that.

Me: It’s a challenging question, yes. And he -is- one of yours.

Slaanesh: I am referring to what Nuffle just said.

Me: Ahh. Yes. Quite.

Khorne: SHOOT HIM OUT OF A CANNON.

Me: That’s a good one. Don’t think he’s tried it before.

Khorne: I HAVE. WHERE DO YOU THINK HE WAS FOR SO LONG? THE TRICK IS TO SELECT A GOOD TARGET.

Me: Where’d you send him?

Archaon: *materializes* I assure you, my lord, that this is a question best left unanswered. All I know is that it got us Chaos Halflings.

Tzeentch: Good grief!

Nurgle: Challenge him to collect and catalogue an entirely new sexually transmitted disease. Or, perhaps, playing on his non-sexual proclivities, ask him to develop a new bio weapon. One unlike anything the galaxy has ever seen.

Me: That could be useful.

Nurgle: *smirks* How do you think we got Chaos Halflings?

Me: For which?

Nurgle: ...Exactly..

Archaon: *sighs*

Tzeentch: Give him a jigsaw puzzle. No, before you go saying something snotty, Malal, I do honestly mean it. Conceal within that puzzle an incredibly beautiful work of art. One he has never seen. And make it fiendishly complex. So complex only decades of work can solve it. Even for someone like him.

Me: And I assume you hide one of the pieces, yes?

Tzeentch: I hadn’t thought of that. That is positively malicious.

Me: As I said...

Hashut: Send him in search of the Chaos Squats.

Neocho: I don’t believe in dealing with Fulgrim. Seriously. The guy is an ass.

Slaanesh: He has been. Literally. Both the animal and the posterior. Got bored of it pretty quickly in both cases.

Perturabo: May I make a suggestion, my lords?

Me: Of course.

Perturabo: I concur with Lord Malice regarding the approach, but I conjecture that it would be equally of utility to find something he -failed- to do properly. Do you think I have an ego? I’m absolutely amateur compared to him. Find his worst mistakes. Assail him with them.

Me: I knew there was a reason I keep you around, Angry Greek Stereotype.

Perturabo: I live to serve, milord.

..

Well, there you have it. Perhaps you’ll find some wisdom there, little mortal. I thank you for your question.

[askmalal]

What’s your favorite breakfast cereal?

KHORNE Flakes... HAH!

But seriously, I enjoy a good frosted shredded wheat with Oat Milk. Weetabix can also be lovely. Your favorite Chaos God (who definitely does not exist) is allergic to milk -and- lactose intolerant, and as such, oatmilk is my preferred cereal medium. As for the others...

Khorne: CRUNCHY STARS

Me: The Muppet breakfast cereal?

Khorne: YES. I LOVE THAT THE BOX HAS THE SWEDISH CHEF ON IT.

Me: It’s out of production, isn’t it?

Khorne: WHEN DID TIME MATTER TO US?

Me: Point well made, big brother.

Tzeentch: Frosted Lucky Charms....

Me: Yeah, yeah, they’re magically delicious, right?

Tzeentch: I like that they are crunchy and yet so sweet that they make your teeth hurt.

Angron: I LIKE THAT CEREAL THAT CUTS THE ROOF OF YOUR MOUTH.

Me: ‘Oh’s’?

Angron: THAT’S THE ONE.

Nuffle: Hee hee! I bet I know Konrad’s favorite..

Ghost of Kurze: SAY Count Chocula, mother fucker. I dare you!

Nuffle: *whimpers*

Nurgle: I like oatmeal. Good for the fight against DIABEETUS.

Me: You couldn’t resist that joke, could you?

Nurgle: Not really, no. But seriously, I do like it. Especially with raisins.

Ghost of Kurze: Eew! That’s disgusting!

Nurgle: Exactly.

Slaanesh: I like ‘Special K’

Me: The cereal marketed to a omen?

Slaanesh: Wait. We’re talking about cereal?

Hashut: Do they make a spicy cereal? Like a Habanero Frosted something or another.

Neocho: Fruit Brute. I don’t believe in good cereals.

Magnus: No, clearly Yummy Mummy is the best in that line.

Me: I’m going to have to stay neutral. The only one I can stomach is the... the one that isn’t Konrad’s favorite.

Ghost of Kurze: Thank you, milord. And for the record, I like Cocoa Pebbles or Cocoa Krispies.

Mortarion: Soggy Fruit Loops.

Khorne: EEEW!

Alpharius: Wheaties. I’m always on the box.

Lorgar: Gruel, moistened with water. Or any bagged cereal you get at an outlet store or pound land, because...

Fulgrim: Ooh! Pound Land?!

Lorgar: It’s not that kind of...

Hashut: Isn’t that down the road from ‘The Fellow Ship’ or ‘The Tool Box?

Lorgar: No, no. Look, it’s a low price chain...

Slaanesh: I hope they also sell high priced chains. You really can’t put a price on quality restraints.

Ermm.. And on that note, I thank you for your question, little mortal!

[askmalal]

“Just how many Chaos Gods are there, anyway?”

Thousands. On the other hand, when some of them claim titles to things such as ‘God of Socks Lost in The Dryer,’ one can reasonably question that rather lofty assertion.

It is, however, true, that if enough sapient beings believe that a thing is true long enough, that thing manifests in The Warp. We are the dark reflections of those things. (Those of us who exist.)

Keeping in mind that yours truly does not exist, I think it is fair to say that there are five or six “Major” Chaos Gods. The (mostly) human cultists who run that delightfully fractious enterprise, Games Workshop, seem to agree.

There are, first of all, the “big four” - Khorne, Nurgle, Slaanesh, and Tzeentch.

In one specific, erm, “bubble” of reality, the minor Skaven (and Hrud.. shh, don’t tell anyone) entity known as “The Horned Rat” as supplanted my little brother/sister Slaanesh. We prefer to call him “Gary.” Otherwise, Gary is mostly small, warpstone infused potatoes.

Then there is Yours Truly, of course remembering that I do not exist. Sometimes they call me Malice over in Nottingham. I go by many other names. My dear old friend HP Lovecraft really enjoyed playing with them, especially once I beat tolerance into him...

Either way, same totally non extant deity. Am I hypothetically one of the major Chaos Gods? Depends upon who you talk to.

Then there is Nuffle, Dark God of Sports and Dice. He owes me a good twenty quid and a bag of souls (Cool Ranch flavor, please) for mentioning him.

We also have Hashut. God of the Chaos Dwarves and at least some of the Chaos Squats, erm, Demiurg, erm, Squats again. Nice person. Khorne hates them. But I always invite Hashut over for game nights at my place. We have a good rapport.

I’d mention Neocho and his.... unmentionable twin. But I don’t believe in them.

There you go.

[askmalal]

Khorne: I WONDER WHAT EVER HAPPEND TO THE PSYCHOHOBBITS.

Hashut: Didn’t they open for The Clash?

Nurgle: No. He’s talking about those little people from the Safety Dance video.

Khorne: *sighs, like the sound of grinding continental plates*

Me: They were a small group of mutant Halflings. Pitfighters, I think, referenced in First or Second edition of Fantasy Battle.

Tzeentch: Ahh. The editions in which you were relevant.

Me: And the ones in which your avian fetish wasn’t so pronounced.

Tzeentch: Bastard.

Me: Bird-Flu genitals says what?

Slaanesh: Actually, Khorne, I can answer that question. And it’s not sexual. Well, mostly not.

Khorne: DO TELL, OH RIBALD ONE.

Nuffle: “Ribald for her pleasure.” Heh! Am I right, you guys?

Slaanesh: Rude.

Nuffle: But you do that all the time. How come when I....

Khorne: CONSTANTINE VALDOR.

Nuffle: *skitters off, screaming*

Slaanesh: As I was saying. One of them helped to write the song “Sex Dwarf,” and was in the video, background shot.

Me: Weird song, but catchy.

Tzeentch: Isn’t it nice, sugar and spice...

Nurgle: ...luring disco dollys to a life of vice!

Slaanesh: May I continue?

Me: By all means.

Slaanesh: The others bought a “Kenny Rogers Roasters” franchise.

Me: Aren’t those all gone, now?

Khorne: GREAT COLESLAW.

Slaanesh: I think so. They own a Wimpy Burger in 21st Century Terra, now. Down Manchester, I think.

Me: You should visit them.

Khorne: I WILL. MAYBE I’LL HAVE COLESLAW.

Me: Do Wimpy Burger even carry that?

Nurgle: You’d be lucky to find actual beef.

Khorne: THAT’S OKAY. I AM THINKING OF GOING VEGAN.

Neocho: Oooh!

Me: Why?

Khorne: JUST MORE HUMANE.

Me: I see. Well, I would argue that... wait... what?!

[askmalal]

Huron Blackheart: Alright, you’ll all only tell me the truth, is that what you claim?

Khorne: IT IS.

Huron: Then tell me this: what happened to the Eleventh Primarch?

Nurgle: Freaked out, joined the Army, became a professional hitman.

Isha: *jabs him in the ribs with her finger*That is literally taken from “Gross Pointe Blank.”

Hashut: Killed in a plane crash with Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and the Big Bopper.

Nuffle: Allergic reaction to Nutella.

Khorne: THAT WAS ACTUALLY CLEVER.

Nuffle: Aww, gee... *blushes*

Slaanesh: Fell to Chaos after reading Snookie’s autobiography.

Tzeentch: That is patently absurd, all of it. The mortal wants an answer. Give him one!

Neocho: I don’t believe in answers.

Khorne: KILLED IN GLORIOUS BATTLE.

Me: *blinks* Well done, old man.

Khorne: ...WITH SUPER GROVER.

Me: Right, now you’ve ruined it.

Huron Blackheart: Can none of you take this seriously?

Me: You don’t want to know, little mortal. It is simply that.

Huron Blackheart: Ridiculous! I am the Tyrant of Badab, the savior of Humanity!

Nurgle: I can’t -believe- I’m saying this, but... there is a reason The Anathema ordered it never to be spoken of.

Tzeentch: DON’T say his name. Three times and he’ll appear. Like Hastur, sans whimsy.

Huron: I demand an answer! I’ve earned it!

Me: You truly want an answer?

Huron: Yes! No jokes. No puns. Nothing about “going to live with his auntie and uncle in Bel Air,” none of this. Truth!

Nurgle: Tell him, Mal...

Me: *sigh* -HER- story is a sad one...

Huron: *mind blown*

[askmalal]

At the Weekly Game Session

Nurgle: Tell me a joke.

Me: I really don’t do jokes.

Neocho: I don’t believe in jokes!

Hashut: You’ll just turn it into a bestiality joke, anyway.

Nuffle: *banging on the basement door* Hey, you guys. I brought snacks! Come on! I’ve even got Faygo! Let me in!!

Slaanesh: So, this girl walks into a doctor’s office, and she says ‘doctor, Doctor, help me, I’ve got this big rash in the shape of an ‘M’ between my breasts, and....

Me: *interrupting* ‘No, girlfriend from Wisconsin!’

Khorne: KNOCK KNOCK

Nurgle: Who’s there?

Khorne: INTERRUPTING COW

Me: *interrupting* Moo.

Nurgle: There are two Praetorian twins. Angus and Alisdair. They are constantly competing, and...

Me: *interrupting* ‘And what radio station were you listening to, ye bastard?!*

Tzeentch: Fine. One day, a man is building a brick shed in his back yard. He spontaneously throws a brick into the air and...

Me: *interrupting* And two non jokes later, the poodle comes walking down the railroad track, with the brick in its mouth.

Tzeentch: You really are a gigantic asshole.

Me: No. That’s Azathoth. And, for the record, my joke of choice is, ‘three Norscans walk into a bar. The fourth one ducks.’

Nurgle: You literally are the worst person I know.

Nuffle: *banging on door* Come on guys! We have Funions! Gary is here too!

The Horned Rat: Yeah! I brought Stratego! Let us in!

Nurgle: Strike that. Third worst.

[askmalal]

At Weekly Game Night

Me: *reading a rules booklet* Yeah, I hate that.

Nurgle: Malal, you hate a great many things, could you please clarify?

Me: This turn of phrase *points at a paragraph* I’m no language snob, and heavens know that English was -not- my first language. This, however, drives me nuts. Ahem... “The first player rolls a dice.”

Tzeentch: And?

Me: A die is a -die-, singular. Not a “dice.”

Hashut: I roll one die, not one “dice.”

Me: Thank you. That’s correct.

The Horned Rat: What about multiple dice?

Me: Then you are rolling dice. I don’t see the mystery.

Slaanesh: Maybe they are afraid that English speakers will think they are referring to a metal die.

Khorne: LIKE A MOLD, ESSENTIALLY?

Slaanesh: Yep. Something like that.

Me: Who in her right mind is going to assume that a game will require throwing a huge metal forming tool?

Tzeentch: Never underestimate their stupidity of mortals.

Me: There are other phrases that drive me crazy, too, For example. Loretta, when you cast dice from your hand, and you aren’t divining...

Hashut: Why would I need to divine runes? I’m a god.

Me: Just play along.

Hashut: I’d call it “dicing.”

Tzeentch: Who in the pink flaming fuck calls it that?!

Me: -Thank you-

Slaanesh: When I’m making that gesture with my hand, I’m not using dice. If you know what I mean.

Nurgle: That’s... an image I didn’t want of my little sister.

Khorne: I ROLL DICE. I DICE VEGETABLES, MEAT, STORMCAST ETERNALS, SMALL WOODLAND...

Me: *interrupting* Yes. Point made.

Hashut: Dicing? Really?

Me: Says it right here.

Nurgle: Translation issue, maybe?

Me: English speaking publisher, writer is a Canadian, and English is her first language.

Tzeentch: That’s a very odd choice.

The Horned Rat: I don’t think so.

Me: *sigh* Anyway, pass me that bag of dice, will you? I’ll show you all how the game works. *rolls several dice onto the table.

Nuffle: Speaking as God of Dice. Those are dice.

Me: Late for a contribution for the literally one thing we defer to you for, but... okay.

Neocho: *late, as usual* Sorry... guys. Long time at... *panting* the grocery. I don’t believe in express checkout lines. And.. Ooh! Look at all the pretty dices on the table!!

Khorne: *restraining Malal, whose veins visibly pulse across his forehead* NO, LITTLE BROTHER, THIS ISN’T THE TIME.

[askmalal]

“Bridgekeeper: What is your name?!”

Me: I am the End.

Bridgekeeper: Ooh! Dark! I like it!

Nurgle: I am Grandfather Nurgle, would you like a lollipop, or perhaps a fuzzy Werther’s Original from my pocket?

Khorne: I AM WAR.

Hashut: Hi, I’m Loretta!

Neocho: I don’t believe in names.

Tzeentch: What -is- a name, anyway?

Bridgekeeper: Oh, hell....

Slaanesh: *panting* Sorry. I got here as fast as...

Me: Cardinal Biggles. Her name is Cardinal Biggles.

Slaanesh: *considers* Checks out.

Nuffle: I’m Nuffle, god of dice and sport. Howdy!

“What is your quest?!”

Me: I seek the grail!

Hashut: Yeah, me too.

Nurgle: I seek the grail! Assuming the grail is the panacea to all ills. Or maybe the cause. I haven’t decided.

Khorne: I SEEK YOUR SKULL, BRIDGE-KEEPER. FAILING THAT, A BETTER CHAIR.

Me: So, you seek a comfy chair?!

Slaanesh: The comfy chair?!

Hashut: Poke him with the soft cushions!!

Tzeentch: I don’t get it.

Nuffle: I seek the gruel! No, I mean....*pitched into the crevasse below* Aaarrggh!

Neocho: I...

Me: *sigh* He doesn’t believe in quests.

Necho: I was actually going to say that I seek a way to disprove everything you believe in.

Bridgekeeper: Yeah, yeah. Let’s move on.

“What is your favorite color?!”

Me: I don’t do colors. I do monochrome.

Khorne: CORNFLOWER BLUE.

Slaanesh: Pink... I -love- pink. The pink of a freshly moistened...

Me: That’s enough. Please don’t finish that sentence.

Slaanesh: Aww. I was just going to talk about a good strawberry snow cone.

Me: Oh. I honestly thought that you were going in a different di...

Slaanesh: ...or a nipple...

Me: Right. I knew it.

Tzeentch: Blue. Gold. What are colors, anyway.... *pitched into the crevasse* Arrggggh! ...It’s a good thing I can flyyyyyyy..!!!!

Hashut: Bronze.

Nurgle: Anything both vivid and disguisting. Puce, for example.

Neocho: I don’t believe in co..*Malal kicks him into the Crevasse*

Bridgekeeper: Bless you, sir. You may all pass.

Nurgle: Is there any way to keep him down there?

[askmalal]

M: I believe we have a new question to consider, siblings.

Hashut: Shit.

Tzeentch: And that would be?

M: Sister Calliope would very much like to know who gave Sanguinius his wings, apparently. A post on her... Tumbler.. blog... thing.

Hashut: Hell!

Nuffle: Wasn’t that Steve-Dave?

M: Whom?

Khorne: NUFFLE IS ON A KICK. HE HAS RECENTLY BEGUN TO REFER TO THE EMPEROR AS STEVE-DAVE.

Slaanesh: Aww. Our little man has finally seen ‘Mall Rats’

Nuffle: What’s that?

M: Ahem. The wings. Who gave them. Fess up. *stares daggers at Tzeentch*

Tzeentch: Why are you looking at me? I’ve got nothing to say about angel boy.

Nurgle: You had motive. And opportunity.

Tzeentch: Nonsense.

Slaanesh: Opportunity: everything interesting on Baal is mutated.

Nuffle: Points to conjured image of a teenage Tzeentch with braces, wearing a “Baal High School” sweatshirt.

Tzeentch: Go Death Worms!

Slaanesh: *points to photo of Magnus' fluffy wings*

Tzeentch: Correlation is not causation.

M: Motive: You are a well documented bird fucker.

Tzeentch: Easy there, you three eyed, faceless twat....

Nurgle: That was overly harsh.

Tzeentch: Tired of him making fun of my aesthetic, grandfather.

Nurgle: And I'm tired of people thinking they are witches in the Fall, but we don't always get what we want.

Nuffle: You tell them, Grandpa Steve-Dave!

Khorne: NO. NO, THAT'S ENOUGH. IT WAS FUNNY IN 1996. NOW, NOT SO MUCH.

Tzeentch: Why does it have to be me? Any of you could have done it.

Slaanesh: Turned me down at Cygnus. I know how consent works. And time isn't linear for us, given we exist outside time. As such, I refute your argument.... bird fucker.

M: *snickers*

Tzeentch: Then Khorne!

Khorne: BITCH, PLEASE. MY WINGS ARE LEATHERY AND HELP TO KEEP AFLOAT ON WARM UPDRAFTS.

Tzeentch: Bitch?

Khorne: I APOLOGIZE, LITTLE BROTHER. I AM DEVELOPING A NEW APPROACH TO GETTING THE YOUNG, HIP, KIDS TO FOLLOW ME ON SOCIAL MEDIA.

Hashut: Is that why you're having Nuffle watch 1990s Kevin Smith movies?

Khorne: I HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH THAT. NUFFLE DOES AS NUFFLE WILLS IT.

Nuffle: *snickers* Hey, Mal. Want a chocolate pretzel? *snickers*

M: *growls* I realize that you, little thing, cannot die. But you will wish that you could if you come anywhere near me with that poorly veiled attempt at 'stink palming' me.

Nurgle: Then who else could have done it?

Hashut: Don't look at me. I don't mess with Primarchs.

M: Shoots a look.

Hashut: ...that anybody is still allowed to talk about.

M: *nods* Now, Nurgle?

Nurgle: He'd have insect wings. We've established this as my niche, and I'm happy to produce a quality product.

M: Which leaves Nuffle, or one of the other lesser gods.

Nuffle: Say what now?

Tzeentch: Why not -you-, Malal?

M: Look at the color of the wings, and get back to me.

Tzeentch: *grumbles* Well, either way, I didn't do it.

M: I'm afraid we'll have no answer for Calliope then.

Khorne: SORRY. WISH I HAD MORE INFORMATION FOR YOU. SORT OF BUSY BURNING DOWN SEVERAL CIVILIZATIONS.

M: And yet you are still playing "Old School Runescape."

Khorne: I CAN MAKE MILLIONS IN BAKED POTATOES, MALAL. MILLIONS.

M: Oh well. Guess we'll never know.

Nuffle: Why the hell can't I see this fucking sailboat?!!!

***

(In a dark corner, watching)

Neocho: *steeples fingers* I don't believe in angels.

[askmalal]

“What do you look for in a potential mate?”

- Anon

Oh, you cheeky devil. As for myself, I prefer intelligence, humor, and tolerance for my “I really don’t want to be touched or talk, but I’d simply like to be near you” moments.

Also, tolerance for entities with amorphous forms, a capacity for overt snarkiness, and….

Nurgle: I think tolerance of body odor is a plus. I do sweat… a lot.

Khorne: YOU LITERALLY SWEAT SAPIENT ENTITIES.

Nurgle: Fine. Not so much odor, as…

Tzeentch: You smell like Gary, Indiana.

Gary: What?!

Slaanesh: I prefer someone open to new adventures.

Tzeentch: Heh Heh.

Slaanesh: I was referring to a session of D&D or “Troika,” but yes, I mean, obviously that too.

Khorne: MUST LOVE DOGS AND DOG-HEADED PERSONS.

Me: Here, here.

KHORNE: YOUR ‘DOG’S HEAD FORM’ HAS A THREE EYED WOLF’S HEAD.

Me: So what?

Gary: Wolves aren’t dogs. Dogs aren’t wolves. Cesar Milan is a twit.

Me: They are canines. Are they not?

Gary: Missing the point. Were the 11th Legion Wolves?

Me: Hounds, Cu-Sith, to be spec. Ahh. I see your point.

Tzeentch: They have to love magic, in my case.

Nuffle: Doug Henning magic or like, Merlin magic?

Tzeentch: ME magic.

Me: Doug Henning was treasure, you barbarian.

Nuffle: I think he should like sports. My partner, I mean.

Gary: Big shock there.

Nurgle: I had no idea Nuffle was gay.

Nuffle: I’m a god, does it matter? We’re all constructs.

Me: He has a point.

Nurgle: Not complaining. I suppose I never asked.

Gary: I like peanut butter. She should like peanut butter. And recumbent unicycles. And acid washed jeans. And ironic be…

KHORNE: WE GET IT, YOU ARE A HIPSTER.

Gary: …. And Gordon Lightfoot songs…

Neocho: I don’t believe in any ballads about disappearing ships. Rubbish.

Me: Do you believe in relationships?

Neocho: I don’t believe in E-Harmony. I know that much.

Nuffle: Farmers Meet?

Neocho: I don’t believe in agrarianism.

Nurgle: J-Date?

Me: Guessing he is not Jewish.

Neocho: I like Tinder.

Khorne: SAY WHAT?!

Tzeentch: Oooh! I’ve got an idea, let’s all play ‘Mystery Date’

Hashut: Nobody’s going to ask me?

Me: I didn’t ask -any- of the rest of you.

Hashut: Muppets. I like muppets.

Me: I.. erm… I mean…

Hashut: Who wants to watch ‘Labyrinth?’

Thank you for your question, little mortal. And Happy New Year.