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originally posted in:The New Dojo
originally posted in: THE DOJO
Edited by Xeno: 9/18/2016 8:24:12 PM
30
The popular song by none other than Metallica was heard for miles, the epic metal song accompanied by the sound of shaking metal and heavy-duty tires crunching gravel to dust. The large Van-Truck Hybrid, painted a blood red with a ramshackle exterior that looked like it could break apart at any moment, surprisingly held fine. With four large tires in the back and two in the front, it sped through Dojoville like a bat outta Hell. The man, or rather, thing that was driving it, was whooping and hollering like a madman. The driver was a large, hulking mass of green muscle, with a large jaw and head, with two canines jutting out from his bottom jaw. It wore a set of armored overalls, with welding goggles over its eyes. A cigar laid in its mouth, the smoke leaving a trail out the window of the vehicle. A creature that could only be described as a stereotypical Goblin crawled out from the back of the vehicle. It tapped the drivers shoulder. "Ey, boss? W'ere's we goin'?" The driver looked back, seemingly annoyed. He grumbled something and took an Imperial Commissar's hat out of a glove compartment. The hat had seen better days obviously. He shoved it on the creatures head, and threw the green thing to the passenger seat. He gave it a map, yellowed with age. It obviously had difficulty looking at it, as the wind was blowing it everywhere. "Yu tell me, ya grot!" The little man groaned as he tried to look at it. "Well, boss, we'ze shud be roight on top uf I-LOOK OUT BOSS!" "AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" The vehicle came to a screeching halt, leaving skid marks in its wake. It had just arrived in the Dojo. The music crackled and ceased. "Welp, we'se 'ere." The driver opened the door and exited the vehicle, revealing his [url=https://cdnb1.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/000/335/969/large/ted-beargeon-ork-caster-psyker-anatomy-sk.jpg?1417705078?dl=1]physical appearance[/url] as well as his clothing. The green beast wore a set of brown leather overalls, with steel-toed boots, armored knee pads, and two metal pauldrons strapped securely with chains across its chest. The pauldrons are lined in red, with the inside black and white checkers. It also sported a pair of welding goggles, which it slid off to reveal bloodred irises. It's clothes were stained with blood, oil, and grease. It no longer contained a cigar. The beast looked back at its vehicle, and banged on its side twice. "SET UP SHOP, BOYZ!" Immediately, groans, laughter and racket was heard from inside the vehicle, as the back began to open and become a stand of sorts. There were more Goblins, each scurrying around, doing different jobs. The driver groaned and looked at his servants. "OI! GET ME MAH CHAIR!" "Sure fing, boss!" A foldable beach chair was handed to the driver by a rather jumpy servant. He grinned, as he laid down on his chair. He took off a canteen from his belt and began to messily chug a black liquid. He looked back again, angry. "AN W'EREZ THRASH?!" "S-sorry boss! He'z commin'!" A purple [url=http://vignette4.wikia.nocookie.net/warhammer40k/images/f/ff/Attack_Squig.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20130612211122]animal[/url] slightly larger than a house cat ran out from the back of the truck and jumped on top of the driver. It began to lick its master wildly. "Oi, oi! Get offa me!" The animal eventually stopped as its master gave it a human skull to gnaw on. And so, it waited. [spoiler]Open![/spoiler]
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  • 1
    [i]The Dojo gates suddenly bursted open, the one that came out a rather...odd man.[/i] "OI!! Who tha' fúck are ye, and what're ya doin here?!" [i]The 6'4 foot tall man roared with a loud British accent, his voice booming over the landscape as he stomped his way over to the newcomers. His burly body was engulfed in light grey robes, his thick leather boots and gloves adorned with iron and steel. The helm that covered his head was a thick gold, shaped strangely like a pyramid, and offered no sight to the man at all. In fact, he was stumbling quite randomly towards the group, as if he was actually blind. His right hand was tightly gripping a steel handle to a massive wooden wheel, the wood stained with dark blood as if it had been used to literally crush his victims. In his left hand was a golden and steel firearm, the barrel quite large for any normal weapon, although it looked like a rather odd cross of a rifle and shotgun. A sheath that was at the man's side contained an ancient jagged blade, deeply stained with dark blood as well. Attacked to the man's belt was a rather massive book, containing about 2500 pages if one estimated, and a small wooden music box, a trinket that may have belonged to the child. He kept approaching, dragging along the massive wheel as he began screaming once more.[/i] "An' what the hell was that music, eh? Sounded absoluteh wonderful, if I say so myself!!"

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  • The creature stared at the approacher with a cockeyed expression, as he took a gulp from his canteen and shifted his body on his chair to face the blind man. "Haha! Dat's Metallica! It'z aktually frum da 'Umies, but dey sure know howda maek musik! Bahaha!" He grinned, the rest of his teeth joining his two large canines in a show of predatory biology. "An' as fer ya prefious questin', iz an Ork! Da biggest and da strongest, at dat! And oi, wots with dat zoggin' fing on ya 'ead? Can ya see outta dat? Don't look much liek arma! Bahahaha!" The animal at his side was growling lowly and eyed the man, while the Goblin-like servants paid no mind to the conversations of their master.

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    "The biggest and strongest, ya say?! WELL, I can't see ya, but ya sound like a rather imposin'...whatcha-ma-call it...an ORK!!" [i]The man bellowed with laughter loudly, his voice surprisingly jolly at the moment., although he still seemed rather odd.[/i] "Oh, tis ol' helm ain't much for armor...it's so I can bash me head into some weaklin's heads!! Ohohoho! I've done it before, trust me!"

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  • This got a kick out the Ork, as the race's entire life is war. He laughed and slapped his knee. "BAHAHAHAHHA! DAS A GEWD ONE! HAHA! I NEEDA TRY DAT ONE TOIM!" His laughter subsided gradually. "Ya know, you ain't bad fer a 'umie. Most of 'em r screaming...ur...wot iz it?... HERETIKS! Ya! Heretiks and woteva!"

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    "Heretics?! Now why the would theh being screaming that at others, eh? Rather odd, really. Probableh not right in the head!" [i]The man only chuckled darkly, shaking his head slightly as he sighed with joy. He was actually fairly happy, funny enough. The Ork had a good taste to music (atleast to the man, he did.), he had a rather amazing accent, and even better, he also enjoyed violence, which was just fantastic.[/i]

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  • I feel a great friendship filled with laughter, violence and murder coming along. "I agree! Da stoopid 'umies ar hypakrits at best! But, they'se fun to kill! Mork, everyfing's fun ta kill! BAHAHAHAHAH! 'Specially those Necrons! Ya know wot a Necron is? They'se old robots that wanna rule da galaxy! Ya know why'se dey so fun ta kill? Cuz when ya kill one, A BLOODY 'NOTHA COMES AROUND!!!"

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    [i]That just sounds amazing. Absolutely amazing.[/i] "HA!! I ought to kill one sometime just to see that happen! All I've ever had to deal with are despicable Vileblood scum and a bunch o' nasty beasts, but it's exciting when ya cave a bástard's head in with a wheel!!" [i]He laughed a little more, his grip on his wheel's steel handle loosening slightly.[/i]

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  • "Voilbloods? Wot in Gork 'r those? They'se sure do sound fun ta stomp! Bah, everyfings fun ta STOMP! BAHAHAHAHA!" The Ork laughed loudly, as he took another swig from his canteen. He reached for his pocket, but was disappointed when he found it empty. "Oi, 'umie! You'ze got a cig?"

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    "A cig?! Wait. Is that...hold on, lad." [i]Dropping the wheel in his hand all of the sudden, the loud clatter of the wooden weapon could be heard as it hit the ground. The blind man began moving his hands through his thick pockets, feeling around and murmuring slightly. [/i]

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  • The Ork chuckled. "Iz okay if ya don't 'ave one. Me Gretchin can fetch me one from me stockpile." He opened his canteen, observing to see if there was any of the mysterious liquid left. The swashing noises answered the question. "Well, das good. Still got some oil left."

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    [i]Continuing to shuffle through his pockets after a bit, the man groaned as he pulled his hands out of the thick robe, shaking his head disappointingly.[/i] "Ain't got any, sorreh. Forgive meh, I should probably have more...and ya got oil in there?! I thought oil was for ye molotov cocktails n such..."

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  • "Yehe! Watch dis!" The Ork turned to face his vehicle, the Goblin-like creatures still scurrying around. "OI! FIRST ONE TA BRING ME A CIG GETZ AN XTRA SERVIN' T'NOIGHT!" The Goblin's scurrying quickly intensified, as they literally clawed their way through each other to fulfill their master's wish. One of them, with an eye torn out, ran as quick as he could to the Ork, a smile on his face. "'Ere ya go bozz!" The Goblin held a large cigar in his hand. "Oi! Thanks, Gubba!" The Ork snatched the cigar from "Gubba". "Now run off and get yerself an eyepatch. It'll make ya look mean!" Gubba ran off, jumping with joy. The Ork abruptly turned on a blowtorch, as the cigar was lit. He put it in his mouth. He looked up at you with a crazy look. "'Ere's tha best part!" He then took a swig of his oil, and smoked his cigar. He took the cigar out, and burped. A huge fireball erupted from his mouth. Smoke began pouring out of his nostrils and mouth as he began to break down into uncontrollable laughter.

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    [i]The man turned his head towards the ones speaking suddenly, his head thrashing about as he tried to locate where each speaker was, and he was doing it fairly well. He was blind, after all. After the Ork had burped out the fireball, the man leaped back suddenly, bellowing with laughter after he smelled the smoke rising from the Ork's nostrils and mouth, shaking his helmeted head with apparent joy. [/i] "OHOHOHO!!! Ought to try THAT out some time!! HA!"

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  • "Ya! Well, maybe not you, since ye a 'umie. Ya see, us Orks cun grow back from pretty much anyfing. Loik, we can heal n' stuff. I aktually took a Bolta to da face! You shodda seen da look on da Mad Dok's face wun he saw me!" The Ork sealed his canteen and clipped it on his belt, as he took another puff of his cigar. "So, got anyfing ta brag 'bout?"

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  • [spoiler]bump... ;-;[/spoiler]

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  • [spoiler]bump.[/spoiler]

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  • The HELL are you guys!? *A thin, average height man with blazing crimson eyes walks up to the people, somewhat confused. He holds onto a foot long dagger just in case he doesn't have time to form his sword*

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  • "Oi, you wot?" The creature drew his gaze to the man, staring with red eyes. The creature besides him known as Thrash began to growl lowly. The Ork furrowed his brow. "I'se a Ork! Da strongest and da biggest rase eva!" The Ork laughed and took another swig from the mysterious liquid. "Ya 'umies ar outnumbad and out dakkad!"

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  • Yeah, hi, Ork. I'm an Ex God, so if you wanna fair fight, do NOT fight me or your ass will most literally be handed to you

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  • Edited by Xeno: 9/19/2016 12:12:47 AM
    "You'ze a god? Daz funny! Da only godz der ar, ar Gork n Mork! And thoze two'll help me kick yer teef in ya big bugger! Bahahahahaha!" The Ork laughed loudly, as he took another swig from his canteen. He reached for his pocket, but was disappointed when he found it empty. Oi, 'umie! You'ze got a cig?"

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  • EX God. And war beast, and demon, so if you know what's best for you, I'd suggest that you don't fight me

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  • "Wot? 'Umie, I just want a bloody cig. Ya got one?" The Ork seemed to completely ignore what the man claimed, much too occupied on his absence of cigars.

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  • I don't have any damn cigars on me!

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  • "Bah! Ya uzeless! Liek awl da 'umies!" He grumbled something as he turned to face his vehicle, the Goblin-like creatures still scurrying around. "OI! FIRST ONE TA BRING ME A CIG GETZ AN XTRA SERVIN' T'NOIGHT!" The Goblin's scurrying quickly intensified, as they literally clawed their way through each other to fulfill their master's wish. One of them, with an eye torn out, ran as quick as he could to the Ork, a smile on his face. "'Ere ya go bozz!" The Goblin held a large cigar in his hand. "Oi! Thanks, Gubba!" The Ork snatched the cigar from "Gubba". "Now run off and get yerself an eyepatch. It'll make ya look mean!" Gubba ran off, jumping with joy. The Ork abruptly turned on a blowtorch, as the cigar was lit. He put it in his mouth and puffed a cloud of smoke in your direction. Whether it was intentional or not, was your guess. "Eh, da Gretchinz are good for somethin'."

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  • "WHAT IN THE LIVING FÜCK ARE XENO ORKS DOING HERE!?" A voice yelled in anger and displeasure as it approached. "GOD DAMMIT THE EMPEROR PRAISE BE!" The voice said even louder, clearly rambling in anger. Eventually he appeared in sight, A Oriental man barely reaching 2 meters in height and his face in a scowl. His Hazel eyes were clearly burning with anger as he was reaching into his pitch black overcoat, branded with all sorts of Imperium symbolism. A goatee hid his chin under its black look, well trimmed too. His jet black hair tied into a ponytail. The Man eventually brought out what seemed to be a Bolt Pistol and speed walked forward at a fast pace towards the Ork Van, clearly pissed

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