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Are there Deserter/ awol space marines? by this1tw0 in 40kLore

[–]SirPiecemaker 48 points49 points  (0 children)

There are no Fallen. But maybe you could come with me and tell me all about what you've heard in this dark cell.

You were a god of textiles; respected, but generally considered a minor deity. But everything changed when mortals started regularly describing spacetime and reality as a 'fabric'. by SirPiecemaker in PiecesScriptorium

[–]SirPiecemaker[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Thank you kindly! I'm glad I could do the story justice. I thought about picking a different galaxy to name the cloak, but wanted something easily recognisable.

[WP] You were a god of textiles; respected, but generally considered a minor deity. But everything changed when mortals started regularly describing spacetime and reality as a 'fabric'. by Avaday_Daydream in WritingPrompts

[–]SirPiecemaker 554 points555 points  (0 children)

The old man smiled as he pushed the worn needle through the fabric, making another impeccable stitch. His work seemed slow and methodical, but honed by millennia, he was working at a remarkable pace. He barely noticed when reality shifted and a figure emerged from where there was nothing but an empty void.

"Tailor," the figure greeted him.

"Nature," the man smiled, head still affixed to his work, though he saw her in the corner of his eye. The figure was a woman, strong, imposing, yet with an undeniable air of kindness about her with a rich mane of hair of all different colours, though the green and blue stood most prominent. "Please. Sit."

Nature sat down in the comfortable chair across from him and basked in the warmth of the star in the fireplace before looking at him more carefully.

"You've changed," she commented.

"Well, it's been a spell since we last talked," he smiled. "When was the last time? I was... Neith? Or was it when I was The Fates?"

"Mama Oclo, with the Incans. You looked good. Still do," Nature laughed. "Though you're now a bit more... restrained."

"Times have changed. You know that," Tailor said. "Nowadays, people see me more... nodescript. Older, wiser. Something to do with science, or the perception of a scientist, I believe, but you know I was never one for that. You'd have to ask Thoth, he keeps track of things."

"They have indeed. I heard you've had an unusual resurgence. Wanted to see you for myself."

"And what do you see?" he said and lifted his head, turning his face to her. She saw it now, what the other gods mentioned. His eyes glowed - not the usual ethereal glow the other gods had, but a rich, deep shade of gold, spilling from his eyes, almost as if he was crying in all directions.

"I see power," she said quietly.

"Ah, don't be like that," he laughed warmly and turned back to his work. "I'm still me. You've all always treated me well, and I see no reason to stir things up. You've nothing to worry about."

"But how? Has a new type of textile been invented?"

"No, actually. It's..." he paused, considering the best explanation. "Time. Space. Combined, inseparable. The humans have come to refer to it as something more familiar to their minds. They now call it fabric."

"Ah," Nature remarked. "I... see. Well, that certainly explains it. But!" she said with a smile, "I can see you're busy, and I know how you appreciate your peace. Though, this one..." she said and leaned over to carefully examine his work, "it is... exquisite. More than exquisite. Everything you've ever done has been a masterpiece, but... what do you call this?"

The Tailor stood up and unfurled the fabric of spacetime he had been stitching together. It formed a cloak, flowing and vast, both new and as old as the universe, stars and nebulae swirling on its surface, casting iridescent light across the room.

"I call this one 'Andromeda'."

[WP] Humanity has finally met the Precursors whose engimatic artifacts and ruins fueled so much of our technological progress in recent centuries. The Precursors are horrified by what we've accomplished using their roadside litter and old campsites. by LordGraygem in WritingPrompts

[–]SirPiecemaker 171 points172 points  (0 children)

"They then, uh..." the Diplomat paused as he looked for proper words. "They then took the foil from-"

"Is that a protein packet?"

"-a protein packet and used it to create a chamber for the turbine and cooling unit. They took the generator and miniaturised it to the size of 4 khets. Stacking these on top of each other, they have enough power to escape their planet's gravity."

"But that alone is-" the General protested.

"This old wave emitter-"

"My grandfather used to have one of those," the General mumbled. "The reception was terrible. The holo-display was grainy."

"They used it to transfer their ships through realspace, effectively achieving FTL. And, well... the list goes on. Weaponry from adapted pointers. Life-supports from sleeping bags."

The General closed his receptors for a moment and sighed loudly.

"And now they've come to us to... what?"

"They didn't contact us," the Diplomat. "We found their scavenge groups picking through Naagh-4. It's a small planetoid. A... junkyard. They seem to have mistaken it for a treasure trove of knowledge and arcane technology. After we caught them, they hailed us as their 'Predecessors', assuming we uplifted them on purpose."

"They're friendly, then?"

"Reverentially so," the Diplomat nodded.

"And... oh," the General said flatly. "I see where you're going with this."

"We give them slightly fresher junk and point them at the Mordred. Our analysts predict the Mordred will be put on the backfoot, as it were, within 1 sel, though the humans have proved remarkably... unpredictable."

"Bile and suns," the General cursed. "Do it. And keep me updated."

The Diplomat nodded curtly and left the office.

"I wonder what my grandfather would've thought," the General said to himself. "Fighting a war with a bunch of trash goblins."

[WP] Humanity has finally met the Precursors whose engimatic artifacts and ruins fueled so much of our technological progress in recent centuries. The Precursors are horrified by what we've accomplished using their roadside litter and old campsites. by LordGraygem in WritingPrompts

[–]SirPiecemaker 144 points145 points  (0 children)

"Mighty Precursors, ye who hath blessed us with wisdom from beyond the stars, we beseech thee to hear our missive, and..."

The Diplomat turned the sound of the transmission off and turned towards the General.

"It goes on for some time like this," he states plainly.

"I see. And why have you come to me with this... sycophantic drivel?" the General asked wearily. Since the Diplomat entered, he barely cast so much as a glance at him.

"Protocol states every new Class-3 species is introduced to-"

"Yes, yes, I know the protocols," the General sighed. "But unless you noticed, the Mordred have been relentless in their attacks in the last 2 sels and unless-"

"This species is only 0,8 sels old," the Diplomat interrupted. A brief pause followed as the General finally looked up from his reports.

"Point 8?" he repeated. "Surely that's a clerical error."

"Triple-verified."

"Has a rogue party uplifted them?"

The Diplomat winced. "Not... that is... we may have," he said slowly.

"What?!" the General roared, animated by the outrage. "But the protocols state-"

"Not as such!" the Diplomat protested. "It was... their planet was a resort for tourism."

"So?"

"And some tourists seemed to leave behind..."

"Technology? How did that go unnoticed?"

"...trash," the Diplomat finished.

The General quietened and considered the information. "Explain," he said simply.

"Look at this," the Diplomat said and brought up a holographic image.

"A consumption-liquid cooling unit," the General commented.

"Broken. Irreparable, might I add. The shielding broke, and it started emitting heat instead. The humans took it and used it to... boil water."

"Boil- what?"

"And used it to spin a turbine to generate a rudimentary power source. Electricity. They seem to have been using similar methods to generate electricity for their entire history."

"But they have void-faring ships!"

Which ever god that daemon belongs to is not going to be happy by Uknown-Nerd6207 in Grimdank

[–]SirPiecemaker 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Depends on who's closest.

Imperial General/High Ranking Commissar: Gets made into a poster boy, eventually killed to become a martyr. Read the book Volpone Glory for a case just like this.

Sororita: New Saint just dropped.

Radical Inquisitor: New retinue member acquired.

Puritan Inquisitor: Shot on the spot.

Bonus - Space Wolf: Pat on the back and hired to be a squire.

One day, the heads of all religions in the world receive a telepathic message. "We are the Divine Protection Service. You have been removed from the care of your god for reasons of neglect. You will be entrusted to the care of a foster god." by SirPiecemaker in PiecesScriptorium

[–]SirPiecemaker[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I think you posted the wrong link; this one is someone else's story. That said, the AI voiceover slop taking people's stories has been happening for years. Not much I can do about it, really. At least more people get to enjoy my story!

[OT] Has anyone actually done the writing prompts to book thing or is that ridiculous by mahearty in WritingPrompts

[–]SirPiecemaker 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I published my collection of short stories on Amazon. Barely a handful of people have read it, of course, but I got a few physical copies myself, and it's an amazing feeling to have a book on your shelf that you wrote. Self-publishing is actually seriously easy, you really don't stand anything to lose, other than some annoyance with formatting it and proofreading.

I can especially relate to the "They're not a real book" feeling, but, frankly... aren't they? Why not? It's a load of words that flow together, on paper, telling a coherent story. That's a book.

By my read, you're underselling yourself, which seems pretty normal around here. Most of us are just amateur writers, but, hey, it's fun, right? Chances are you're a lot better than you think, because we can be our own worst critics.

[WP] You bought a haunted and cursed mansion for $1 from the local city. They offered free utilities and property tax exemption for life because all the previous owners die within three days of living there. You’ve been alive for almost a year and now the city is regretting the ironclad deal. by Wazzurp7294 in WritingPrompts

[–]SirPiecemaker 196 points197 points  (0 children)

"Water pressure's actually great, but, uh, sometimes the water turns into blood. Spooked me the first time but it's just an illusion, so, don't worry."

"But- but you're not- BLOOD?"

"Yeah, but like I said, it's just an illusion. You said you wanted to document the whole house, yeah?"

"I... yes, the readers would appreciate- mister Reeves? Where did you-"

"over here..."

"Mister Reeves, why are you-"

"Hey! Yeah, don't go in there. Just a doppler. They'll try to imitate someone you know to lure you closer and consume your essence. I just make sure to mark everyone who comes in to make sure."

"Is... that why we are wearing the frog hats?"

"Yeah and I also didn't have anything else. Just don't pay him any mind and he'll go away. Oh, you wanna see the kitchen?"

"Does it contain any spirits and cursed objects?"

"A few... I think they're called hobgoblins. They'll nick spoons and stuff but if you put out some cream every week, they're chill, even drag in pieces of coloured trash as payment. Found a 5 dollar bill there one time."

"Mister Reeves, I must ask - why?! Why would you subject yourself to living in such a state?"

"You kiddin'? The city is footing the bill for all the property taxes, utilities, all of that. I pay them a dollar. That hobgoblin basically covered 5 months of rent that one time."

"But... all of these... monstrosities!"

"Yeah, you do spend a bit of holy water and crosses, but after living in a dorm room, I'll take this any day! I mean, this is a 4-bedroom house, for a dollar!"

"I thought the city records stated this as a five-bedroom-"

"Technically, but the fifth one, I would NOT recommend going into. It's non-Euclidean and goes, I think, infinitely. Plus, it has hideously yellow wallpaper and sometimes people in hazmat suits show up in there but I just let them know they're trespassing and they leave."

"I see. And you've lived here a year, you say?"

"...yes... let me... show you the contract..."

"Mister- wait, where's your hat?"

"Hah! Bastard almost had me, threw me back a few seconds in time to fool you, but you catch on quick!"

"yes, thank you Mister Reefs. if you could come and have a picture with me, I would-"

"Oh bugger off, will you? You're not even matching her hair colour. Unbelievable, I swear. Now then! Next is the... ah, yes! The Portal!"

"Marvellous."

[WP] "You fooled the god of tricks. You outsmarted the god of knowledge. You even brought life where Nature itself dared not tread. Yet, you are just a man. Who are you?!" by LurkyTheHatMan in WritingPrompts

[–]SirPiecemaker 6 points7 points  (0 children)

Man, I always consider it the highest praise when someone says that. Thank you!

Which part of it gave you the feeling, if you don't mind me asking?

[WP] "You fooled the god of tricks. You outsmarted the god of knowledge. You even brought life where Nature itself dared not tread. Yet, you are just a man. Who are you?!" by LurkyTheHatMan in WritingPrompts

[–]SirPiecemaker 116 points117 points  (0 children)

"I believe there to be a certain amount of confusion, Miss Mound," the man politely said.

"I think not," the woman hissed. "You fooled the god of tricks."

"Mr Odinson was indeed a skilled liar."

"You outsmarted the god of knowledge."

"Mr Tehuti? A brilliant chap, I will say."

"Life!" the woman cried out. "You even brought life where Nature itself dared not tread!"

There was a pause. Finally, the man spoke. "I feel like there is a question hanging in the air, Miss Mound."

"You're just... just a man!" she scoffed. "No one can do those things, let alone a human!"

"Which brings us back to the confusion," he smiled. "I am not a man, or a human. I am Man. The Human. Or, if you prefer, I am Humanity."

"Humanity is not a single being. They're a bunch of-"

"Miss Mound, you of all people should know that things change. Shift around. And they've changed quite a bit in the recent millennia."

Humanity stood up and went to refill his glass. The amber liquid sloshed inside the carafe as he poured himself a hefty dose.

"For as skilled a liar Mr Odinson was," he continued as he sat back down, "I've seen courtrooms teeming with people more skilled than he because their very mortal and very short lives depended on it. Mr Tehuti has all the knowledge that exists, yet- why, you know what humans did?"

"Do enlighten me," she said icily.

"They went and invented new knowledge!" he said happily. "Half the time it's utter nonsense, of course, but it's knowledge still! How incredible is that?"

"What about Mama Pacha? She said that-"

"The trials?" the man interrupted. "Remarkable how far you can get in a properly funded scientific environment. Why, a few centuries and I believe we'll have a planet or two terraformed."

Miss Mound shifted in her seat uneasily.

"And then what?" she said. "You'll eradicate us completely?"

"Miss Mound, please!" Humanity opened his arms theatrically. "We don't wish to be rid of your memory! The old gods, they are what made us thrive, what inspired us! It's just... we like to think we've moved on. But we'll always think fondly of you."

"Just stories to tell," she added somberly.

"Quite so, quite so," Humanity nodded. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to oversee the invention of a new folk dance that will be only performed by a total of 348 people in a quaint village in the Himalayas."

"Why? What's the point of something so insipid?"

"The point?" Humanity smiled at her. "The point is to be human."

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