Alright, heres the next chapter. I'll do chapter 3 as soon as I can. I hope everyone enjoys this. Big important piece of information for this chapter, The Machine God is speaking in hexadecimal code, to find out what he's saying all you have to do is go to any website that decodes it into english. His dialogue isn't important to the story in any way but those who do decode it will be very proud of themselves. I was going to put a link into this little author message but unfortunately the site won't let me put in links, and for that I am truly sorry... please try to enjoy.
They appeared in a large manor in a pocket dimension. The dimension only consisted of the manor and the small grounds it occupied. It was long ago deemed neutral ground by all the higher order factions of the Milky Way Galaxy; the surviving Eldar Gods, The Chaos Gods of the Warp, The Orkish Twins, The Emperor, The Machine God, The C'tan, and the recently added member of the higher order The Hive Mind of the Tyranids. The many Gods of the galaxy war with each other constantly; but for reasons unknown, once every two hundred years they gather for a night of costumed revelry. Once again, the reason for this is unknown.
The chaos gods appeared inside the mansion's main hall. The smell of exotic foods was thick in the air and music of the great, late Bequa Kynska played. That human had been one of Slaanesh's acolytes, even if she didn't know it at the time. In life that human had been the greatest composer in history, but her career didn't really take off until after her death. Tzeentch looked around; noticing that besides the servants there was no one else there.
Tzeentch approached one of the servants. "You there, where are the other guests?"
The thing sniffled and its neck filled with air so that it could release the breath required to make words. "They haven't arrived yet, Lord Tzeentch. The Order of Chaos is the first to arrive."
Tzeentch cringed. It was Cegorach, the Laughing God, that trained the servants to call him and his brothers the 'Order of Chaos'. It was an intended joke, a non-literal oxymoron that always made Tzeentch furious. His brothers and their quirks annoyed him; Cegorach on the other hand enraged him.
Khorne and Nurgle had finally recovered from their sudden shock. Khorne was obviously conflicted as whether to continue his battle with Nurgle or to wage a new fist fight with Tzeentch for zapping him, it would take him a while to decide and then he'd just forget why he was mad. Nurgle went over to the buffet table, stuffing his face full of assorted bits of fancy garbage. Meanwhile Slaanesh was already dancing about to the beat of the music with a grace and talent only she possessed.
"Hmm…" Tzeentch mumbled. He saw another servant slithering about; he recognized it as one of the long extinct Laer. The servants had all been artificially constructed, each resembling a different form of sentient life. The idea had been based off an organization within real space known as the Cabal. The servants had little independent thought and were deemed suitable by all factions as the perfect neutral party to serve as butlers and caterers for the festivities.
After five minutes or so Tzeentch sensed another teleport signature shaking through the essence of the house and sure enough a bright flash of green light filled the room. The flash left two stout green creatures with huge tusks protruding up from their lower jaws. Their spines were bent in a bizarre curvature that appeared neither comfortable nor natural. Their bestial eyes were yellow, with vertical irises. One's hair was tied up into a pony tail on the top of his skull, the other was completely hairless. Each of them wore a wide variety of tribal fetishes, metal trinkets, and shining weapons holstered and sheathed in various places. Tzeentch grabbed a cup of wine from the laer's serving tray and raised it up to toast the new arrivals. "Ah Gork and Mork, so nice for the both of you to finally join us here."
"Well if it ain't dem chaos boyz. You'ze 'azn't changed much 'ave ya?" The left one said. Even Tzeentch couldn't tell which one was Gork and which one was Mork, he often wondered if they even knew the difference.
Tzeentch walked over to the two. He couldn't help but notice they weren't dressed any different then they usually were. "Erm… so what are you suppose to be Mork?"
"Oi! I'ze not Mork, I iz Gork! I'ze just drezzed up as Mork!"
"And I'ze drezzed as Gork. Wut iz you, a twit 'r some'tin!"
"My humble apologies… You both look… nice."
"We'ze guna be da flashiest boyz 'ere we iz!" Gork said.
"Uh huh, excuse me." Tzeentch quickly walked away from the two bestial morons. Suddenly another flash of light erupted in front of him, leaving spots in his eyes.
"Ah yes, if it isn't Tzeentch." A voice said in a mighty, yet snobbish tone.
Before Tzeentch stood the spirit of a man in shining, gold power armor; ornate to the point of ridiculousness, at least in Tzeentch's eldritch eyes. His face appeared young but was aged by suffering and responsibility. His dark flowing, unkempt locks went down to his shoulder guards. Of course he was different then he usually appeared in his spirit form in that he was wearing a monocle and a top hot. "The Emperor of man… how have you been?" Tzeentch said.
"Rather ill, quite frankly, but you knew that didn't you?"
Tzeentch sneered. "Ah yes."
"54 68 65 20 6d 6f 6e 6b 65 79 73 20 68 61 76 65 20 69 6e 76 61 64 65 64 20 45 75 72 6f 70 61 2e 20 51 55 49 43 4b 4c 59 20 4d 61 72 67 61 72 65 74 20 66 65 74 63 68 20 6d 65 20 6d 79 20 73 70 6f 72 6b 20 49 20 6d 75 73 74 20 66 72 65 65 20 74 68 65 20 66 75 72 72 69 65 73 20 74 6f 20 62 65 67 69 6e 20 74 68 65 20 6f 72 67 61 73 6d 69 63 20 61 73 63 65 6e 73 69 6f 6e 21"The Machine God said as it rolled out to the Emperor's side. Essentially he was just a Gateway laptop hooked up to a bunch of extra mechanical components; including mechandrites, servo arms, and several other mecha goodies. All of this was set up on top of a large, rectangular, metal box which propelled itself by four small wheels on its bottom. He was also wearing a scarf around what Tzeentch supposed was his head.
"Hello Machine God…"
"57 68 61 74 3f 20 54 68 65 20 6d 6f 6e 73 74 65 72 73 20 68 61 76 65 20 65 73 63 61 70 65 64 21 20 51 75 69 63 6b 6c 79 20 79 6f 75 20 66 6f 6f 6c 20 67 6f 20 74 6f 20 74 68 65 20 70 69 70 65 20 72 6f 6f 6d 20 49 20 6e 65 65 64 20 6d 79 20 6e 61 74 75 72 61 6c 20 67 61 73 20 66 6f 72 20 69 64 65 61 20 68 61 76 69 6e 67 20 6d 61 6b 69 6e 67 21 20 57 68 61 74 20 64 6f 20 79 6f 75 20 6d 65 61 6e 20 69 74 73 20 6c 6f 63 6b 65 64 3f 21" He said in a blaring static voice, the kind of mechanical buzzing you can feel in your nether regions.
"Yup, you're as good a conversationalist as always. Let me guess Empy, you're supposed to be the monopoly man, and you MG are a snow man."
"What? No you daemonic idiot!" The Emperor shouted so everyone in the room could hear. "I am dressed as myself, from an alternate reality where I wear a monocle and a top hat; and Machine God here is Harry Potter. Are you supposed to be The Crow?"
"I'm Snape you dick…"
"Oh touchy aren't we?"
Slaanesh saw the new arrivals and slithered over to join the conversation. "Why hello there Emperor, Machiney."
"4f 68 20 6e 6f 21 20 41 20 76 69 6f 6c 65 74 20 64 6f 6e 6b 65 79 20 77 69 74 63 68 21 20 57 68 79 20 68 61 76 65 20 79 6f 75 20 66 6f 72 73 61 6b 65 6e 20 6d 65 20 42 69 6c 6c 21 3f" MG blurted.
"Ah yes, if it isn't you, Slaanesh." The Emperor said with the slightest hint of disgust in his voice. "I've been meaning to ask you both something. How are Magnus and Fulgrim?"
"Whelp," began Tzeentch "Magnus is still up in his tower, yelling… Speaking honestly I have never heard such language in all of my days. He is really pissed off…"
"Well, that's a tricky thing to answer." said Slaanesh. "The real Fulgrim is trapped in the deepest recesses of his mind while the daemon who possessed him has been throwing an uninhibited party since the thirty-fifth millennium. So, which ever you mean."
The Emperor sighed. "I miss them…"
Tzeentch and Slaanesh looked at each other for a slight moment. "What?" The Emperor asked noticing their shared glances.
"Do you wanna ask about the other ones?" Tzeentch asked.
"What other ones?" The Emperor began to glare at the Lord of Change.
"You're other kids… that… well… joined us. I mean I haven't really been keeping up with Lorgar and Perturabo but from what I understand they're both doing quite well. From what Nurgle tells me Mortarion's new world is pretty damn awesome as far as plague planets go and Angron-"
The Emperor put his hand up and gestured for Tzeentch to stop talking. "I should stop you there. I only feel bad about Fulgrim and Magnus. Fulgrim because you're little whore sibling sent a daemon to possess him, thus absolving him of whatever crimes he has committed; and Magnus because admittedly… it was somewhat my fault. Don't get me wrong it was mostly his and your fault but I can't help but feel slightly responsible."
"Wow…" Tzeentch said sarcastically, "that must have taken a lot of strength."
"You have no idea… Anyway screw the other ones. They chose to turn from me and the Imperium willingly. As far as I'm concerned they can all go suck flamer. Now if you'll excuse me." The Emperor began to take his leave to the refreshment table.
"Now hold on Emperor." Tzeentch said, making said Emperor turn around to look at him. "It occurs to me, as the greatest historian in existence mind you, that the Horus Heresy was the direct result of your lack of foresight."
"Yes yes I shouldn't have made Horus the Warmaster, I shouldn't have left the great crusade to pursue my own agenda, Sanguinius would have been better at being Warmaster, Angron and Mortarion wouldn't have turned if I hadn't have been such a dick to them when I found them, bla bla blattity bla."
"Actually Empy that's not what I mean."
"Well I give up, what do you mean bird face?"
Tzeentch's gaze narrowed on the Emperor. "Remember Lorgar?"
"You mean my son I had to spank to get him to stop worshipping me? Who ,after said spanking, went to you bastards."
"What was that spanking for ,exactly?"
"You know exactly what it was for. He was trying to worship me as a god."
"There in lies my point. Doesn't all the Imperium worship you now?"
"Well yes…"
"Which technically due to your own power, you are a god, as close to a god as any of us here anyway. Now tell me, obviously the Ecclesiarchy worships you, does the imperial guard worship you as well?" Tzeentch asked smugly.
"You know they do." The Emperor was becoming more and more annoyed.
"I see, now do Space Marines worship you as a god now as well?"
"Well yes… but I don't see how that applies to-"
"Yes, I see. So by today's standards Lorgar would have been you're average Imperial warrior; he might even have been called a martyr. Lorgar was also the one who helped us taint Horus, who of course ,as we all know, instigated the Heresy. But had you had the same standards you do today back then you never would of chastised Lorgar, thus he never would have been driven to start worshipping us, thus he never would of tainted Horus, and thus the Horus Heresy never would of occurred. That would have allowed you to continue your little crusade to reclaim the galaxy, and you might even have succeeded in destroying us. But unfortunately for you, that is not the case."
"This conversation is over." said the Emperor as he turned once again. Tzeentch noticed Slaanesh make a slight gesture as the Emperor made his dramatic departure from their company.
Suddenly the machine god started spinning around in circles. A disco ball and strobe lights emerged from hidden panels on his boxy body. He began blaring "48 69 73 74 6f 72 79 20 72 65 70 65 61 74 73 20 69 74 73 65 6c 66 0d 0a 54 72 79 20 61 6e 64 20 79 6f 75 27 6c 6c 20 73 75 63 63 65 65 64 2c 0d 0a 4e 65 76 65 72 20 64 6f 75 62 74 20 74 68 61 74 20 79 6f 75 27 72 65 20 74 68 65 20 6f 6e 65 0d 0a 41 6e 64 20 79 6f 75 20 63 61 6e 20 68 61 76 65 20 79 6f 75 72 20 64 72 65 61 6d 73 21 0d 0a 0d 0a 59 6f 75 27 72 65 20 74 68 65 20 62 65 73 74 20 61 72 6f 75 6e 64 0d 0a 4e 6f 74 68 69 6e 67 73 20 65 76 65 72 20 67 75 6e 6e 61 20 6b 65 65 70 20 79 6f 75 20 64 6f 77 6e 2c 0d 0a 59 6f 75 27 72 65 20 74 68 65 20 62 65 73 74 20 61 72 6f 75 6e 64 2c 0d 0a 4e 6f 74 68 69 6e 67 73 20 65 76 65 72 20 67 75 6e 6e 61 20 6b 65 65 70 20 79 6f 75 20 64 6f 6f 6f 6f 77 77 77 6e 6e 6e 21"
"Umm," Tzeentch started scratching his head in confusion "what the hell is he doing?"
The Emperor looked over his shoulder nonchalantly "Hmm. I think in his mind he just now arrived to the party."
"Ok…" Tzeentch said. He turned to Slaanesh "So Slaanesh got any plans for tonight?"
"Sorry Tzeentchy I'm gunna have to leave you for a bit." Slaanesh said as she began to hurry over in the Emperor's direction. Tzeentch smiled slyly as he began to piece things together.
Tzeentch began to sense a new arrival. From all sides of the room he felt a hungry, gnawing presence. He heard the ear rending skittering of a trillion insect like creatures. Suddenly a large fleshy orb began to form in front of him. It continued to grow, becoming more and more complex. In the end it became incredibly tall creature, encased in a chitin-like armor and was sporting six arms. The top pair of arms was the most muscled and ended in wickedly sharp talons capable of grasping things; the other two pairs were longer then the top but much more slender, and ended with scythe like talons. Below the upper body was a centaur like support, except that instead of a horse half it was more like that of a mantis. The head of the thing possessed certain saurian traits, except for the chitin head crest it sported. Once the head had fully formed tentacles began to sprout from the back of its neck. After the thing had finished formed clothing began to materialize. Tzeentch recognized the clothing as early 20th century clothing.
"Ugh… yo Tzeentch. Whats up man?" said the figure.
"Hive mind you made it! How you been?" he replied.
"Umm… Im gunna honest, I've got an extreme case of the munchies…"
"What else is new?" they both began laughing. Tzeentch had been one of the few people who had taken a liking to the extragalactic collective intelligence. At first he had been pissed that there was yet another player in the battle to control the material universe, but as he observed the Hive Mind's creations, or children as one could view it, he began to like their tactics. Their ability to adapt specifically to any foe or offensive made Tzeentch inspired. Change for the better, mutation with benefits; these were interesting concepts to him.
"So guess what I am." The Hive Mind said happily.
"I don't know… Edgar Allen Poe?"
"No, but you're close… kinda."
"I give up."
HM looked disappointed. "I'm Howard Phillips Lovecraft; I thought the tentacles would have tipped you off."
"Oh, that's an awesome costume. I don't know… my family has been pissing me off lately. It's been throwing me off.
"That's rough."
"Sometimes I wish I had never been spontaneously spawned from the Warp…"
"Try having trillions upon trillions upon trillions of hungry mouths to feed, see how stressed out that makes you." HM said with what Tzeentch assumed was a smile.
"Ya… that does sound like it would get old fast." Tzeentch let out with a sigh.
"Where's the food I'm starving? Only reason I came here is to get a bite of something that doesn't want to kill me."
"It's on the table with the big, green pustule gnawing on it. I'de hurry before he eats everything." Tzeentch said right before he was nearly knocked off his feet as a massive, unexpected webway portal opened up behind him. Two beings emerged from the portal...
One was a fiery being, adorned in blazing armor. His eyes were hollow, glowing passages that revealed the molten core of righteous violence that dwelt within his iron body. His skull was like the most vicious war helm, a visage carved to strike fear into any who look upon it; it was a look that would make one accept death as a favorable outcome. From the curved backside of its head a wild mane of silver hair grew out; this only added to his fearsome appearance. Sheathed by his waist was a sword that was just as tempered and bloodthirsty as its wielder. His left hand was one of his most striking features; it constantly dripped with fresh blood. The ichor poured forth from his hand, he held it up at chest level; whether this was a futile attempt to stop the bleeding or merely a strange quirk was immaterial. Tzeentch recognized the god as Khaine, the Eldar god of battle and murder. Tzeentch did notice that he had another sword hilted on the opposite side of his waist. For some reason he also wore a large, red, robe which was baggy all across his body except at the end of his arms and legs where they constricted.
The other was a stranger being. His skin was pure white, like a clown. He was also a tall, lithe figure standing slightly taller than Khaine. His head was misshapen; it split out into three crests, one ascending upward and then curving towards his back; the other two protrusions stretched left and right. At the epicenter of his forehead a red gem glittered with some indescribably mischievous energy. His eyes were glowing white, as bright and disturbing as his villainous sneer. His narrow, pointed nose protruded half a foot in front of his face. His limbs were long and gangly, ending in boney fingers with claw like black nails. He was wearing a purple suit; Tzeentch sighed and felt slight annoyance at the obviousness of his costume. Cegorach always did have the strange habit of switching from unknowable to completely predictable, which overall made him completely unpredictable.
"Chaos scum…" Khaine bellowed, as he walked passed Tzeentch and HM. His iron feet made loud ringing sounds as he tread across the tiled floor.
"Good day to you Changelings." Cegorach laughed out as he reached out to shake Tzeentch's claw and one of HM's tendrils.
"Ok Cegorach, you're supposed to be The Joker… but what is Khaine suppose to be?"
"Oh, him; he's suppose to be Inuyasha. Always with the anime that guy…
Tzeentch and HM looked at each other right before bursting into laughter. "And people call me a nerd? Hahaha…" Tzeentch said through his cackling.
"Yes well... you know him. How have you been Tzeentch?"
"Like you care Cegorach, you better not piss Slaanesh off this time. S/he hates you enough already."
"I'll try to keep that in mind." He said as he scampered off towards the dance floor where Khorne, Khaine, Gork, and Mork had already started a brawl.
"Great… they're gunna get blood all over the place… again…" HM said with mock annoyance.
"Well whatever makes em happy. I wonder how that got started…
Five Minutes Ago
Khorne was standing idly by the edge of the dance floor. He looked over with disdain at Tzeentch and Slaanesh, who were speaking with the Emperor. Khorne hated The Emperor more then he hated his own brothers. It was because of that pseudo deity that Chaos, and thus he, couldn't spread its power all across the material universe. He scratched at his head when he felt a sudden itch, chipping away some of the hardened gore from his black mane. He lifted his glass, which was filled with a thick pint of blood, up to his canine like mouth to guzzle it down.
"'Ell if it ain't da 'orned, red git." said a brutish Orkish voice.
Khorne instinctively spun around and punched the nearest living thing, which unfortunately was not either of the Orkish gods but something completely different. The thing he punched flew, or rather floated, through the air due to the impact of Khorne's fist. It hit the wall almost like a balloon and then got stuck to the ceiling. This new creature was golden skinned, with bizarre protrusions from his head that curved towards his back. A large, green, oval shaped gem was in the center of his face; his features were similar to a stereotypical pharaoh, proud, patrician, yet with the traits of a schemer. From his shoulders flowed two sashes which circled his body. He was essentially naked, except for a paper pirate hat on his head for some reason, but the sashes covered whatever his shame consisted of.
"Khorne," said a hollow, cold voice "why did you just hit Deceiver?" Khorne turned once more to see the Nightbringer. Khorne never liked Nightbringer, he had the sadism of Slaanesh and the indifference of Tzeentch wrapped up into one ghoulish package. He appeared to be made out of some type of metal, necrodermis or something. He recalled Tzeentch talking about it when the Necrons first began rising out of their tomb worlds. He floated around in a similar fashion to the Deceiver, his black, hooded robe flowing as he moved about soundlessly about. He held in his boney hands a large scythe that almost screamed out cold, senseless slaughter.
Khorne also noticed that both the Orkish twins were on the other side of the room. "You're idiot friend was trying out his Gork impersonation…"
"It was Mork actually…" said the Deceiver as he descended from the ceiling.
"Like I give a crap."
The Deceiver glared and floated off towards the other party goers. Nightbringer meanwhile simply hovered near Khorne silently watching him. Khorne wouldn't admit this but he found the C'tan to be slightly unnerving. "So ugh… what are you suppose to be?"
"Same thing as always Khorne, the grim… reaper…" He said these words as though he savored every syllable. "Oh, and Deceiver is suppose to be a pirate… he didn't plan ahead this year."
"I can see that." Khorne muttered.
Suddenly Khorne heard something rushing towards him, before he was struck in the face with what he guessed was a chair. "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" was all he heard before he hit the floor.
"You fink yer flashier den us Khorne? You'ze nothin' but a gretchin git!"
Khorne saw both Gork and Mork standing over him, lurched over in attack position. He didn't care why they had decided to attack him. He was the blood god, and he would show these mongrels who the true lord of wars was. Khorne leapt up, his hooves making a deafening thunder as he broke the tile floor. He pulled the sword from his chest, yes; he actually stabbed a sword in his chest for his costume, and began swinging at the Ork Gods.
The Nightbringer had already floated off towards the dinner table, not wanting to get involved in such a primitive spectacle. He saw Slaanesh fidgeting with some buttons on the Machine God. "Hello Slaanesh, what are you doing?"
"I'm trying to see if I can get some porn open on MG's browser."
Machine God began shouting "4e 49 50 50 4c 45 53 20 4e 49 50 50 4c 45 53 20 4e 49 50 50 4c 45 53 20 4e 49 50 50 4c 45 53 21"
"I see…" the Nightbringer said as he noticed The Deceiver whispering into Khaine's ear towards the end of the table.
"They said what!" Khaine roared as he drew his good sword and began rushing off towards Khorne and the Orks.
The Nightbringer sighed with joy. "This is already shaping out to be a great party…"
"Yep," Slaanesh giggled, "its gunna be fun."
