some-old-psyker2

[some-old-psyker2]

Truth be told, Ana herself had no idea what the object was either. In all her travels across the galaxy she’d never really seen anything like it. “Yu’vath is a possibility too I suppose but their tech was all crystalline in nature and primarily focused on animating its surroundings. I suppose it could be a Tau auxiliary species though I’m not for certain which one.”

Yet somehow, that still didn’t feel right. Ordinarily her latest specialty was seeking out lost knowledge from humanity’s past but this….this thing had been practically calling to her in her dreams for weeks now, and not because she had been looking for it when she first came to this sector. She couldn’t help but feel it was calling to her but for what?

The cogitator’s screen, which had previously been registering a curious but rhythmic signal akin to a heartbeat, suddenly showed a curious spike, then another, and then another. Her brow furrowed as she observed this new pattern making its way across the screen.

“Interesting…..” she murmured.

Acquisition (open starter/drabble)

Data crawled across cogitator screens in the dimly lit research chamber where a lone figure stood closely observing and taking careful note of any consistencies and patterns she noticed in its flow. Anastasia may not have been trained extensively in the mysteries of the Martian priesthood, but she was at the very least observant enough to ascertain noteworthy details from the machine’s output.

The device she was currently analyzing was levitating within a gravity-null stasis field a few feet away and clearly of Xenos origin but unlike anything she had seen before. The overly bold pirates she had wrestled it away from hours earlier had been using the strange object as a fucking generator of all things. The perpetual wasn’t sure whether to lament their shortsightedness or praise their ingenuity.

The device was roughly spherical, about the size of a human torso, with an irregular, almost crystalline structure. Its surface was adorned with smooth, curving panels interspersed with angular, jagged segments. Beneath these metallic segments coursed vein-like structures that pulsed with a strange rhythm that almost reminded Ana of a heartbeat. It was as if this artifact blurred the line between mechanical and organic.

Outside, her ship The Wandering Lady busied itself in self-repairs. Small drones sprayed nanite repair swarms over plating that had been scarred by plasma during the recent skirmish while larger drones worked relentlessly upon sections along her port side that had received damage from macro-cannons. Beyond the ship’s hull, the immense sheltering shadow of a burning, lifeless planet only partially obscured the light from the system’s star, light that was beginning to creep up over the horizon in a spectacular diamond-ringlike dawn.

[some-old-psyker2]

Matt Rhodes’s world building project Dead Gods on YouTube is insanely inspiring.

[some-old-psyker2]

Ana didn’t turn to him immediately, preferring instead to continue monitoring the read-out on the cogitator’s screen. She herself was crowned with greying hair tied up in a tight bun though this aged appearance was merely a mask carefully crafted by biomancy. The ancient wanderer had learned long ago that the appearance of age went a long way in getting relatively important people to be more likely to listen to you.

“I suppose you are right, I very well could have boarded their ship at the head of a cadre of war forms, slagged everything in my path and taken whatever I wanted for myself.” Her voice was smooth and unhurried as she turned to face Finnbhar, carrying the weight of centuries with little effort. “However, as you can see, that was not the approach I chose today. Brute force isn’t always the answer, and even I have limits on what I can work with, in spite of what my illustrious reputation may have told you….” She snorted in amusement at the thought. “There are times when flesh and blood mercs have an edge over anything I can conjure up from my ships factorum.”

She tilted her head, considering him. “Pirates here expect warships and hulking killer servitors, not an eclectic band of professionals to slip in, take what’s wanted and leave before they even have a chance to notice. Sure perhaps I had to crack their tin can open a bit to help you and your people find a way in but such is life. And besides…” a faint, knowing smile ghosted across her lips. “If I did absolutely everything myself, I wouldn’t get to observe the artistry of others.”

Acquisition (open starter/drabble)

Data crawled across cogitator screens in the dimly lit research chamber where a lone figure stood closely observing and taking careful note of any consistencies and patterns she noticed in its flow. Anastasia may not have been trained extensively in the mysteries of the Martian priesthood, but she was at the very least observant enough to ascertain noteworthy details from the machine’s output.

The device she was currently analyzing was levitating within a gravity-null stasis field a few feet away and clearly of Xenos origin but unlike anything she had seen before. The overly bold pirates she had wrestled it away from hours earlier had been using the strange object as a fucking generator of all things. The perpetual wasn’t sure whether to lament their shortsightedness or praise their ingenuity.

The device was roughly spherical, about the size of a human torso, with an irregular, almost crystalline structure. Its surface was adorned with smooth, curving panels interspersed with angular, jagged segments. Beneath these metallic segments coursed vein-like structures that pulsed with a strange rhythm that almost reminded Ana of a heartbeat. It was as if this artifact blurred the line between mechanical and organic.

Outside, her ship The Wandering Lady busied itself in self-repairs. Small drones sprayed nanite repair swarms over plating that had been scarred by plasma during the recent skirmish while larger drones worked relentlessly upon sections along her port side that had received damage from macro-cannons. Beyond the ship’s hull, the immense sheltering shadow of a burning, lifeless planet only partially obscured the light from the system’s star, light that was beginning to creep up over the horizon in a spectacular diamond-ringlike dawn.

[some-old-psyker2]

[some-old-psyker2]

Send ‘🍞’ to throw a loaf of bread at my muse.

[some-old-psyker2]

Ayyyyyy aesthetic mood board.

[some-old-psyker2]

Send “Rumor has it...” And a rumor about my muse

[some-old-psyker2]

SEND “⚡️” AND A QUESTION AND MY MUSE WILL BE FORCED TO ANSWER HONESTLY

[some-old-psyker2]

having ocs is like she's my daughter. she's my power fantasy. i'm giving her everything i hate about my personality. she's a war criminal. she's never done anything wrong in her life ever. i love her. i hate her. i'm making her life miserable. who did this to her. she's unlikeable but everyone should like her. she's baby. she does cocaine in the bathroom

[some-old-psyker2]

Acquisition (open starter/drabble)

Data crawled across cogitator screens in the dimly lit research chamber where a lone figure stood closely observing and taking careful note of any consistencies and patterns she noticed in its flow. Anastasia may not have been trained extensively in the mysteries of the Martian priesthood, but she was at the very least observant enough to ascertain noteworthy details from the machine’s output.

The device she was currently analyzing was levitating within a gravity-null stasis field a few feet away and clearly of Xenos origin but unlike anything she had seen before. The overly bold pirates she had wrestled it away from hours earlier had been using the strange object as a fucking generator of all things. The perpetual wasn’t sure whether to lament their shortsightedness or praise their ingenuity.

The device was roughly spherical, about the size of a human torso, with an irregular, almost crystalline structure. Its surface was adorned with smooth, curving panels interspersed with angular, jagged segments. Beneath these metallic segments coursed vein-like structures that pulsed with a strange rhythm that almost reminded Ana of a heartbeat. It was as if this artifact blurred the line between mechanical and organic.

Outside, her ship The Wandering Lady busied itself in self-repairs. Small drones sprayed nanite repair swarms over plating that had been scarred by plasma during the recent skirmish while larger drones worked relentlessly upon sections along her port side that had received damage from macro-cannons. Beyond the ship’s hull, the immense sheltering shadow of a burning, lifeless planet only partially obscured the light from the system’s star, light that was beginning to creep up over the horizon in a spectacular diamond-ringlike dawn.

[some-old-psyker2]

*Reads up on Medieval flagellants*

“Ah yes. It seems I’ve found the spiritual predecessor of the Adeptus Ministorum’s Most Normal Behavior.”