Beretta249

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Our Last Night, a story of Isha and Kuronous. by Beretta249, literature

Literature

Our Last Night, a story of Isha and Kuronous.

As Isha dreams, she drools. When Isha drools, Kuronous cannot resist smiling. This is something only a lover knows of their beloved. Not a detail found on any celebratory fresco of Isha's Bounty or Isha's Glory or -his personal favorite- Isha's Ecstacy. In this small flaw she is immediate and perfect and real as only one lover can be to another. He knows she's not really dreaming any more then she's actually sleeping -they're not mortals, this is a divine pantomime. But all the same his love is as gorgeous asleep as awake; her sun-golden hair is rumpled and unruly, her earth-brown skins rippling and sweaty beneath their shared furs. In her rest she communes with their mortal children as pass through her to their rebirth. And thusly, he smiles again beneath is bushy brown beard, his love is a bit of drooler. That she might sometimes even break wind is utterly as unimaginably as it is unspeakable. The Life-Mother of the Eldar, sleep-tooting! Lives have been lost over more trivial

Isha Leaves Nurgle. by Beretta249, literature

Literature

Isha Leaves Nurgle.

Nurgle wallowed in decay, it was his way after all. But this was different. This was deeper, a rot that had crept into the bottom of his swollen, greasy heart. Isha was gone. A sad gurgle, a tiny reflection of his usual roaring humors, rippled his gross flesh as the unwelcome thought repeated itself. Isha was gone. For good. Her children had stormed into his, HIS, glorious garden of everlasting decay in a whirlwind of searing flames and screaming edges. Nurgle wasn't angry. He couldn't be, it wasn't his nature. But the surprise assault got him pretty damn close. All that fire! Great leaping, lapping tongues that devoured his children

40K: Venting. Incomplete. by Beretta249, literature

Bloodshed: a Random Encounter. by Beretta249, literature

Literature

Bloodshed: a Random Encounter.

In Milandir, at the border of the Faerwalden, along a forest road, in a summer storm. Though punctuated by the basso drumming of thunder, the downpour isn't enough to cover the crash of the Harrier's horse bursting through the roadside brush, even with the splattering of the fat, heavy raindrops on the rich foliage. Which is why the Traveler manages to haul her ornate double-barreled flintlock pistol clear and get a snap shot off. The Harrier's cry of "stand and deliver; or be slain!" garbles into a choking curse as he ducks, his dappled tan mount whinnying and snorting in alarm at the bullet shrieking past it, it's hooves spraying fans of

Pisea 2 writeup. by Beretta249, literature

Literature

Pisea 2 writeup.

Pisea 2's death world classification originates in the beings that give it it's value: the chaos leviathans. These megapredators that swim in it's near infinite depths are valued for the utility of their various metabolic products as war materials. Critically however these leviathans are typically several kilometers long and are entirely capable of devouring and destroying starship-sized constructs. Killing one is nearly impossible as well; firepower on par with a Titan's weapons would be necessary with the additional task of them being adapted to aquatic combat. The Imperium is completely uninterested in that kind of commitment to a single

Eulogy. by Beretta249, literature

Literature

Eulogy.

Old men stood and stretched their creaking joints, faces long with bitter pride in their dead son. Fathers laid arms across their sons' shoulders, mothers tended and herded and jogged truculent infants, the younger children walked away eager and stiff-legged in a eroding bid to control their impulses to bound pell-mell across the grasses. The ceremony completed the priest of Hurrian clapped his tome shut in a last echoing invocation of the thunder rolling across the hills. He looked up, squinting into Illir's Face, wishing the intruding summer storm had banished it's brilliance beneath rain. "A noble son of Milandiir is buried on a day of go

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Our Last Night, a story of Isha and Kuronous. by Beretta249, literature

Literature

Our Last Night, a story of Isha and Kuronous.

Isha Leaves Nurgle. by Beretta249, literature

Literature

Isha Leaves Nurgle.

40K: Venting. Incomplete. by Beretta249, literature

Bloodshed: a Random Encounter. by Beretta249, literature

Literature

Bloodshed: a Random Encounter.

Pisea 2 writeup. by Beretta249, literature

Literature

Pisea 2 writeup.

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About Beretta249

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Mar 19, 1978
United States
Deviant for 17 years
He / Him

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Beretta249

Feb 14, 2013

Devious Journal Entry

0 min read

Borderlands 2 is damn near the perfect non-license Warhammer 40K title. Everyone is insane. Everything is evil or hostile or relentlessly predatory. The few trustworthy people are still ruthless. Pandora itself is a seething, life-devouring ball of suck. What passes for authority is either grossly power mad and deranged or ad-hock and justified at gunpoint, and if the latter is "good" it's also highly likely to be destroyed by contact with any outside organization as a reward to maintaining order. The Bandits are variously Human Scum and Orks, with Goliaths being Chaos Mutants. The Guardians are Eldar -fast moving, shiny, delicate, and ent

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Beretta249

Jul 17, 2012

Devious Journal Entry

0 min read

On gaming and the abuse of noobs. The real topic is about incentives. The longer the progression times and the greater the material difference between victory and defeat the more built-in incentives there are to prioritize victory's tangible rewards over mere enjoyment. This is important. This is [i]very[/i] important. Imperfect unit balance feeds this situation. If A is giving me problems as B, then I need C. So I also need X to unlock C. But I also need room because just one C isn't enough. So I need to increase my level. And those C's aren't cheap. So now I [i]also[/i] need Y. Add all that up and factor in constantly losing to the sam