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EN Fanfic - Apprenticeship; Aiming to be different.
Topic Started: Jun 4 2005, 12:57 AM (429 Views)
Retrogamer!
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IT'S HERESY
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Ok, I know that Rust and Redfox have their own ones, and I reeeeally don't want to feel like I'm stepping on their toes with this, but I had some ideas I just really wanted to put into wording.

Second point, some may consider it some insane ego-trip of mine to put my OWN character into the fic as a main character, but be assured I'm only doing it because I feel a lot easier and more natural when writing him in instead of some half arsed character I would have had to cop up, I can have more fun ripping it out of myself if needs me.

Anyway...onto the fic...

Apprenticeship

An Exterminatus Now fan-fiction by Iain Stewart

Chapter 1: You HAVE to be kidding!

“Answer in your own words, the correct method of bringing forth the justified truth from a prisoner of thy most hated enemy of the holy Inquisition.”

The young fox looked down at the question paper, biting his lip in nervousness; he was on the last question.

“Shit….I wish I hadn’t dodged that interrogation class!” he thought to himself, craning his hands against his temples, as thought desperately clawing into his brain for the correct answer.

“Shit!” he thought again, “Shit shit shit!

This wasn’t good, he was sure he had answered all the other questions correctly, but this one just eluded him, how was he to have known it would appear? Those three months back during the interrogation module he had skipped class to go play online instead. He had regarded that an interrogation only consisted of beating the prisoners head off a wall until they told them everything they wanted to know.

At least…that’s what he had seen on his work experience under Inquisitor Rovenheart…

But nooooo….his lecturers wouldn’t accept that, you had to do it “cleanly and elegantly” instead.

“Boring old farts…” thought the fox.

He returned his attention to the paper, and consoled himself that he would concentrate on this question, he would get it!

That resolved determination lasted for approximately three seconds, as his attention once more shifted, this time to the room around him.

The now cramped classroom was full to the brim with wannabee Inquisitors, all others his age wearing the issued black robes of a trainee, he himself wore one, and hated it, just had no style.

“Apprentice Retro Sicotte, would you calmly return to your final exam?” came the hoarse grind of Professor Eibenstear, the exam master for today, his throat implant making his voice sound robotic and monodrone. He was looking up from his desk at the front.

“Uh…yes master…” muttered Retro, looking back down at his work.

Surely…he would get it right…all he needed was a little of that famous fox cunning…

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“WHAT IN THE GOOD LORDS OF MOBIUS MADE YOU WRITE THAT?”

The scream echoed up and down the hall twice, making all the other trainees jerk up, they were waiting outside the master’s room, waiting on their personal grading from the master himself.

Two or three sniggered, they had always known that clumsy over-enthusiastic fox would never cut it, and they delighted in his embarrassment.

Inside the room however, was a completely different scene, amongst the piles of thick musty old books and antiqued cabinets of wood, sat a lonely Retro Fox in a simple chair, in front of a huge desk, piled with paperwork and appropriate weights, across the front a vibroblade sword hung in honour. Some symbol of…something or other; none of the students knew or indeed cared. It really was just a symbol of a good prize to nab.

“But…it works doesn’t it?” stammered Retro, desperately trying to justify the answer he had given.

Come on, the table leg would defiantly help in a situation of interrogation like that, especially if inserted in that manner.

The master leaned over, knocking at least two hundred essential documents scattering over the floor, his considerable mass as a large wolf towered over the smaller fox.

“You…you think that crude method would work on ANY prisoner? Do you think the Inquisition is like this? Do you think they are a bunch of blunt morons who don’t take their job seriously? DO YOU THINK WE ARE A VIOLENT, ACCUSING, SNEAKY...”

“Well…actually…” began Retro.

“QUIET!” roared the master, “I have had ENOUGH of you Retro Sicotte, you failed in that question, and since this exam requires a 100% pass mark, you have FAILED. Your attitude is a disgrace to the Inquisition!”

“But…” muttered Retro, “If we need to be so perfect to get past this part of the training…then how did he get by?”

He indicated a poster on the wall depicting a rat dressed in brown trousers and a black trenchcoat. The poster was riddled with knives, arrows, compasses and the ever deadly steel rulers.

Seriously, no-one knew just HOW deadly those things were…

The master turned and looked at the poster, a growl came from his fangs, Retro suddenly realised this may not have been his best course of persuasion.

“Do…not…mention…that…” said the master slowly…every word seemed punctuated with the force of a punch he wanted to throw at someone. “That…unwilling…out of control…he almost brought down my entire school! And I still don’t know how he got past it!”

Behind the master’s back, Retro did indeed spy a cluster of magazines poking out of a drawer…he couldn’t see it exactly but it seemed as though they were named ‘Playfurry.’

And with the look of a broken in and newly replaced lock on the door, Retro could easily piece together how the rat had qualified straight to Inquisitor level.

Retro indeed knew the legend of Zuviel Syrus from the Inquisitions final grading school, the myth of how he changed the “Everything you have been told is a Lie” slogan into something else entirely was known by everyone else. He had always boasted he would get that onto the ‘head honchos’ door top slogan…Retro wondered if he had ever achieved his goal…

The master looked round at him.

“In truth…” he began “You are not THAT bad a student…compared to these…others.” He flung a few test papers in the bin, out of the corner of his eye, Retro could see the answers such as “a stick with a nail through it” for questions such as “How do you bring down a Ravenor.”

“I see what you mean…” he muttered.

“No you do NOT!” shouted the master, returning to his good old ‘bastard’ mode. “You don’t, there is ONE reason I’m going to let you through. And that’s that no-one ELSE passed with anything higher than your score anyway.”

“I need to have at least one student go on to become an apprentice to an Inquisitor or this school will be closed, the Inquisition maintains HIGH levels of expectation, and Commander Schaffer wants only the very best of the best.”

“But in your case….I regret sending such a blatant moron such as you on…but I have no choice.”

Retro beamed inside,

YES! I’VE DONE IT! Inquisition luxuries here I come!

The master put his exam paper down, and picked up a data slate, handing it to Retro.

“Choose.”

Retro eagerly jumped out the chair, his tail waving back and forth in excitement, and grabbed the data slate, the strained “I can’t believe this is happening.” Expression on the master’s face was priceless to the fox’s eyes.

Looking down at the data slate he saw a record of Inquisitor names and accomplishments…and non-accomplishments…

Inquisitor Blacken
>> 40 missions completed effortlessly
>> 56 apprentices over a 4 month period.


HELL NO!

Inquisitor Shoggy
>> 23 missions completed
>> High standards
>> Requires bed in breakfast from apprentices


You gotta be kiddin me…

Inquisitor Splinter
>> Suicide missions a speciality
>> Kamikaze style of warfare on demons


You can stay well enough alone matey…

Inquisitor Eastwood
>> No previous apprenticeship experience
>> Other notes too large to contain on front record, please press…


That’ll do ME!

“I wish to serve under Inquisitor Eastwood master.” He brightly said, standing proud.

“Retro…please tell me your joking…have you read all those extra files of ESSENTIAL data on just WHAT he is like?” said the master.

Nah…that’s just boring things…nothing I need to think about, what difference could it make?

“Yeah.” He said simply.

“Oh lord Tyrus give me strength…ok Apprentice Sicotte, you shall meet your chosen Inquisitor in one weeks time, until then report to your room and wait it out. Dismissed.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Retro smugly walked back outside, and passed all those laughing at him.

“You failed! Nyah!”
“You suck boy!”
“Like you’ll become an apprentice!”

The master stepped outside his room.

“Quick report to save time, I read all your papers…you all failed but for Retro.”

The uproar was absolute; apprentices shouted in defiance knowing they had passed! Complete chaos reigned in the corridor and even the apprentice mentors had to be brought in with tasers to calm them down.

Retro just walked back to his room.

When you ask for someone to take all your exam papers to the master…you shouldn’t let me touch them….SUCKERS!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yawning greatly and stretching his arms, legs and tail to their full length, the still rather dreary form of Inquisitor Eastwood relaxed in the kitchen seat. Reaching out he flicked on the switch of the kettle.

After seeing gratefully that it was bubbling away, he turned back and lifted the nearest paper. Inquisitors were issued with a free paper detailing events in their hidden community, but Harold Eastwood to be frank…just couldn’t be arsed with them…he preferred the tabloids, the ones that held the funnies and best of all, the female furries page.

“Oh heh heh heh, you are indeed a nice one, yes you are…” he crooned to the paper, with it only about an inch from his face. To any onlooker he epitomised everything about the term ‘desperate’ to be virtually kissing a newspaper.

Some time passed…and Eastwood began to notice something…he was at page 23…usually his coffee was ready by page 12…he should be a quarter of the way down his mug by now and the second would be boiling by now. Page 14 at most if it was a cold day…but with today’s warmth it should be page 11…something was amiss.

Putting down the newspaper with great annoyance (he hated being brought out of his tabloid induced love trances) he turned and looked at the kettle, it was still bubbling…albeit at an extremely slow rate.

“Boil…” the words were barely a strained whisper from his mouth…

The bubbles in the clear sided kettle merely ‘blurped’ at him, challenging him…

“Boil!” he said, clenching his teeth, he should be happily through page 33 and onto his second mug by now.

The bubbles raised….by about half a millimetre, invisible to anyone’s eyes, but not to the trained caffeine addict’s eyesight.

“Boil you bastard!” he shouted angrily, his eyes opening fully and veins standing out on his face.

As though commanded, the kettle let out a small whistle, before it had even finished, its contents were emptied into a mug so coffee stained it looked more like hardened mud, and part of it was gulping its way down into Harry’s gut. He turned, and placed it straight onto the table, and reached out to grab the newspaper again, he was already far behind in his essential morning schedule, it was almost 3 AM and he wasn’t even finished the first tabloid yet.

“Ah…I can let my time run into work time anyway…” he breathed to himself quietly, like he actually cared if it stole into his Inquisition work anyway.

However as fortune had it…his morning wasn’t over of unexpected events yet.

From across the room, through the door and into his ‘work’ area (although it was more just a ruse, he had it permanently designed to make it LOOK like he was working, but was just off somewhere doing something more of less considered ‘important.’) a data slate bleeped.

He heard it…and resigned to just not care.

Bleep!

His eyebrow twitched a little…but the newspaper commanded his attentions.

Bleep! Bleep!

“Melissa the Vixen eh…not too shabby…plenty sha...”

Bleep!

He lowered the newspaper a little, giving some of his ‘prized’ attention to the bleeping appliance in the next room.

“Be…quiet.” He mouthed to it, and returned to Melissa.

Bleep!

“Fuck off.”

Bleep! Bleep!

The newspaper hit the table so fast he ripped it, right across the important bits. Scraping the chair backwards, Harry stood, grabbed his mug, and proceed to shamble through to the next room, anyone looking in on him would have seen a half bent over figure with half closed eyes wandering around in almost perpetual darkness.

He advanced into his ‘study’ and located the data slate.

“Annoying little bugger aint you…” he muttered as he flicked the on switch. The screen lit up, and Eastwood had to shield his eyes, his darkness attuned pupils yielding at the sight of any such bright light from the LCD screen.

You’ve got a Class 5 Message.

Class 5…class 5….Harry couldn’t particularly remember what that meant, and opened it.

He read it quickly, then put the data slate down.

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” he groaned to himself, and resolved that another mug would probably be a better idea to clear his head of this.

He went back into the kitchen ,reading the message more fully as he went…muttering oaths and curses to a variety of gods, most of which would have him hung if anyone had been around that wasn’t slacker like himself.

The message read more in full.

>> From >> Master Professor Eibenstear
>> To >> Inquisitor Harold Eastwood

>> Data Content >> It is with great pleasure that I may announce to you that you have an apprentice! He is to be Apprentice Retro Fox, and will serve under you for a period of one year or until you deem him fit to be a full Inquisitor.


Below the message was a small file containing information on the apprentice, East opened it.

Name – Retro Sicotte
Age – 18
Sex – Male

Notes – Enthusiastic, optimistic, finds a solution for any problem…often in ways his instructors hadn’t originally meant to task to be done.


“What the hell? Oh no…he’s one who actually WANTS to do some good…oh shite.” Murmured Eastwood, burying his head in his arms, he couldn’t be bothered with this…he really couldn’t.


Exterminatus Now and relavent universe copyright to Eastwood, Virus, Silversword and Lothar Hex
All characters copyright to their respective owners.


Chapter 2 within the next few days hopefully, thank you for reading and feedback would be well appreciated.


Edit - woopsee...forgot the creds.
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Jeffk38uk
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A nice start I have to admit.

Always with the coffee, lol.
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Citizen Bill
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That's pretty good. The name "Retro Fox" kind of seems out of place, but whatever floats your boat. I like your style. There are a few grammar errors here and there, but all in all, not bad.
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Retrogamer!
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Thanks for the positive responce, a few people (myself included) have noticed and pointed out the name problem.

So before the fanfic went any further I fixed it, changed the name to 'Sicotte' as you will notice in the original.

Retro Sicotte

Not much of an improvement, but better overall I think.

But anyway, I shall now bring you chapter two. Enjoy people. And if you read it, please let me know you did and what you thought, its seeing people responding and saying things about it that is whats going to keep me going and writing it.



Apprenticeship

An Exterminatus Now fan-fiction by Iain Stewart

Chapter 2: Please…can you just go AWAY!


The sun beamed down on the large circular landing platform atop the Inquisition building, its massive black surface gathered and collected the heat, and soon enough it felt like you were standing on the metal plate of a frying pan. There were hundreds of freight and authority shuttles whisking back and forth along the sky, occasionally blocking out the sun for half a second, and giving a particularly annoying flickering sense to those under it.

Above them not a single cloud so much as bothered to shelter the group of four gathered on the pad, leaving them waiting for an incoming ship in the sweltering heat of the summer months.

One sat on the ground; head lowered, desperately trying to get some of his body that wasn’t burning already to have to face the sun and let the other parts of his body have a rest form the direct sunlight.

Another didn’t care at all, and just stood watching the sky with a look of total irritation, he hated waiting this long for anything. Out of the four he was the least bothered…bionics combined with a large fendora hat don’t leave must room for getting warm.

Another, a rat, was virtually gasping for air; he had been warned earlier to avoid the trench coat. But he had insisted with the firm saying of “Style must be upheld!”

He was living to regret it, as the inside of the leather coat was becoming hot and clammy, sticking to his fur and making him feel like a walking Soulthirster ritual.

The fourth member was a very very disgruntled Inquisitor Eastwood. Ever since this morning, he had been in a foul mood, slamming every door (as apposed to just the important ones) and having a go at anyone who got in his way.

The cat sitting down slowly looked up, squinting his eyes against the direct sunlight, and even more slowly got up, almost having to peel himself off the deck of the landing pad.

“East…are you sure this is the right place?” he muttered, his head cocked to the side and his arms hanging limp at his side.

“Yes this IS the right place Rogue.” Came the jerky, emphasised reply. “Just like. You asked. Ten. Bloody. Minutes ago!”

Rogue merely sighed, and looked to the sky again.

“So you have said…but are you sure this isn’t a repeat of the incident where you had us waiting for three hours atop this same pad for an apparent incoming ’50 dates’ of yours?” quizzed Rogue, it was obvious his dynamic mind was getting bored with just standing here.

“And?” replied Eastwood, “She came didn’t she?”

“It was a crate of fifty blow-up dolls!”

“I needed you all to help carrying them downstairs!”

Rogue just theatrically waved his arms into the air, decided that arguing was pointless with Harry’s mood right now and turned, walked a few paces and sat down again.

Another half an hour passed.

Finally, the bionic echidna seemed to twitch. That was never a good sign; it usually meant some restraining nerve had snapped…again.

“Ok.” Started the echidna, turning and looking at the others collectively, “I to be perfectly honest…which I am not…am now going to get the hell out of here, two hours and nothing at all! This sky and all the passing shuttles are making me miss the Crimson Skies I coulda been playing!”

He turned and directly began to walk back to the stairs leading down. Before he had even touched the first step though, Eastwood groaned even louder than he had all day.

“Oh gods….he’s here…” moaned the depressed Eastwood, ‘down in the dumps’ was an understatement for him now, his eyes drooped with massive marks of sleep depravation and his entire body was slumped forward like a hunchback. He hadn’t even bothered to wear his trench coat today; he was still walking around in his t-shirt and slippers.

Approaching was a black ship; two huge drive engines were on both sides and fearsome double barrelled shock cannon on the front. It roared in above them, the engines swivelling with the turning circle to being the ship to a stop, before they rotated upwards to bring it slowly down. The back draft from the huge thrusters almost blew the four on the ground off their feet, and to their great pleasure and thanks, gave a good cool breeze.

Lothar quickly grabbed his hat as it flew off his head, replaced it with care, and then looked over at East.

“Hey East!” he shouted, “What’s in this thing anyway?”

Eastwood, bit his gum and shuffled his feet…he had avoided telling them, hoping it was all just a joke from High Command, he knew their response would not be one of support.

“I…uh...I....eh...I” he began,

Virus looked to him,

“You what?” he asked.

“I…I am being sent an apprentice!” he shouted in exasperation, just letting it all out.

Rogue, Virus and Lothar were silent.

‘Thank you whatever heavenly force!’ thought Eastwood, ‘They understand! They know the horror that it is and they are going to give me support!”

As one the other three burst into roaring laughter and fell to the floor,

“Shut up!” roared Eastwood in turn.

“Oh look at it! Eastwood’s gonna be a daddy Inquisitor!” laughed Rogue, hand on chest from convulsion pains of laughing.

“SHUT UP!” shouted Eastwood even louder!

“Gotta look out for the new boy now Harry! Can’t let him slutter his food!” jibed Virus.

“SHUT UP!”

Lothar attempted to say something more, but simply fell over, laughing so hard his hat fell off and his mechanical legs clunked as they hit the floor.

“SHUT UP YOU HEATHEN BASTARDS!”

“Ahem.”

The stone cold voice caught all their attentions, and the laughing stopped abruptly.

Behind Eastwood the ship had finished its landing operations and its door had swung open, and in it stood a tall strong orange fox, he wore combat overalls and a large coat, from in it a variety of weapons protruded. A large scar ran across his face. His arms and legs were muscular, and it looked like he could strange the life out of a rhino.

He was at least a head taller than Eastwood, and more powerfully built than a servitor warrior, his eyes looked sharp and deadly.

Eastwood turned and looked up, his hands fidgeting and his tail fluffing out, sweat beaded down his face and he tried to put on the most pleasing smile he could. Behind him, Virus stood in shock, Rogue stood with an open mouth in a permanent “wow” position.

Lothar was just at the back trying not to laugh.

The large fox walked over and loomed above Eastwood, who was fighting every instinct not to simply run away and hide under his covers with a shotgun pointed at the door.

In one huge hand, an apprentice acceptation form was handed to Eastwood.

“Well? You gonna take em or not?” rumbled the animal resembling a brick wall even more than a brick wall itself. (No small task)

“I…wait…”

Eastwood’s mind clicked, only then did he look at something OTHER than this monster in front of him.

Behind the large fox, struggled a smaller one, short in stature and dragging a large case that looked like it weighed a lot more than the fox himself. Lanky long hair whipped down over a headband on the foxes head, and on his body he wore a bright blue open shirt with Taikan symbols all over it, he wore long black baggy shorts and large grey shoes, around his neck an amulet glittered.

The smaller orange fox was straining with his suitcase, pulling it with great difficulty down the serrated steps of the ship’s docking door. As he cleared the final one, the baggage tipped onto one side and fell over with a loud thump on the hardened concrete of the landing bay; the weight flung the fox to the side and sprung open the lock of the case, cloths, shoes, magazines, packets of sweets and the large form of an Xbox and games tumbled out.

The huge fox turned and looked at its smaller company, and shook his head sadly.

“Clumsy little…” he muttered.

Eastwood finally let his breath out…no insane muscular vat of testosterone would be his apprentice…and for that he was thankful in no small favour. He slowly took the papers from the giant, taking great care not to actually touch it, (He was fairly sure he would die of a steroid overdose if he did.) and signed the form, before handing it back, all the time still looking at this small figure still desperately trying to repack his things.


Retro was in a state of panic, what kind of example was he making to his new master! He has completely embarrassed himself already! He struggled around the platform, picking up all his things and chucking them back into his bag.

But of course, NOTHING fits back in the way you originally had it when you pack in a hurry…law of nature.

“Ok Retro…stay calm...you can figure a way out of this! Just go over and meet them, make it look like you don’t care for your things and they may just think better of you!” he thought.

He stood up, and walked well clear of Karese, his guard on transport, that huge fox scared the living crap out of the much smaller Retro.

He looked around the pad, and saw 4 figures…

“Uh oh…Inquisitor war band, they must be a close knit of friends who all rely and trust each other to the utmost degree, who would stick their necks out for each other and place his team before himself!” thought Retro, “It’s not gonna be easy to fit into such a closely wound group.”

He walked up to who he knew by file pictures to be Inquisitor Eastwood,

OK…just act totally formal. Stay calm…stay CALM!

He jumped over, landing almost in East’s face, grabbed the grey fox’s hand and shook it violently,

“Hey man how ya doin? Any good hunts lately yeah I’m gonna do all I can!”

Shit! Lost it!




Eastwood merely leaned backwards, as though this was some new form of daemon in front of him. His mouth screwed to one side and his eyes widened, this was worse than he had ever imagined…not only did this apprentice want to do well…he was eager as well!

What person in the Inquisition is ever EAGER?

He had to forcibly yank his hand away from the hyperactive fox,

“Uh…yeah…hi….” He muttered and stepped backwards, to put more than 3 inches between the two, Retro merely stepped forward again.

“This is gonna be great! I mean, I bet your gonna teach me all kinds of cool tricks and tips on daemon hunting and how to take down the bad guys!”

Eastwood sighed…

“Look…kid...I have a headache…and I didn’t get ANY sleep last night…and just for the hell of it…I’m gonna blame you ok? Good.”

‘That will calm him.’ Thought Eastwood.

Wrong.

“Hahahaha!” laughed Retro, “Oh man you’re a funny one master, this is gonna be a pleasure serving under you for a year!”

Eastwood’s previous mood came back with a vengeance as he was reminded how long he would have to put up with this. Oh well…the honest approach didn’t work…time for the formal apprentice speech he had been sent by the schools.

“I accept you as an apprentice Retro; you shall accompany me and learn from me in every aspect of life…”

From across the pad, Virus let out a large snort of laughter, he tried to stop further laughs resulting in a strange choking noise. Rogue quickly ran over and belted him over the back of the head; Virus quickly turned, fury on his face,
“I wasn’t choking you arse! And it’s the back you hit!” he growled,

“I know.” Said Rogue with a grin, and walked away again.

Eastwood was still droning on with the formal acceptance…and hating ever second of it.

“…battle, if I do something you shall see it and learn from it. You shall not ever see me running…”

“Yeah!” shouted Virus, “He’s too fast!”

“Shut it you colossal wanker!” snarled Eastwood across at the rat.

“Bite me!” came the reply.

Eastwood made to continue…then noticed something missing…Retro had gone.

“WOW! Is that a real beam sabre?”

The shout came from Rogue’s direction, Harry spun to see Retro waving the still deactivated beam sabre around, and Rogue desperately trying to get it back.


“Hey that’s dangerous! Give it back!” shouted the cat.

“Don’t worry, I’ve seen one before!” replied Retro, as he flicked a switch and the beam flashed on, seconds before Rogue had grabbed it back.

“Scram!” he shouted, and safely held his prized weapon to his chest.

“Ah…spoilsport….” Retro moaned and looked around to see who else was here, he saw a large black Echidna with bionic arms standing over the spilt contents of the suitcase, as Retro saw him the echidna’s eyes flashed up to look at him. In an act of friendliness, Retro waved.


Lothar returned the gesture with a gesture of his own using far less fingers, and wandered over to where something that had caught his eye had spilled…



Retro assumed the Echidna was only having some fun, and looked at the final member.

His jaw almost hit the floor.

“SYRUS THE VIRUS! IT’S REALLY YOU!”

Virus merely raised an eyebrow,

“Uh…what?” he said.

“You! You’re a legend at the school I came from dude!” shouted Retro, running over and standing in front of the yet confused rat.

“You mean you came from under Old Eibenstear?” asked Virus, a small smile of good memories came to his face, as he remembered his old days causing mayhem in that school.

“Yeah, quite a bastard wasn’t he?” said Retro, nudging Virus’ arm.

“Oh yeah! Did you ever ask him about his throat implant? He hated that!” said Virus, the prankster inside him coming out at meeting someone else from that wizened old crone of a master.

“Did we? Almost every day since you let the seniors know about it years ago!” said Retro, virtually leaping off the ground.

Virus almost burst into tears,

My legend…my life-work on that old bastard…it still continues even today!

He resolved to ask about the Donkey incident.

“Hey did you…” he began.

“AHEM!” came the interruption from Eastwood, who by now was getting extremely hot from the sun, was in an even worse mood than before he had met his apprentice and was determined just to go to bed for a few days.

“Could we perhaps get off this bloody roof?” he asked, and without waiting for an answer, stormed off downstairs.


Retro looked after him.

“Bad day?” he asked to the Virus.

“Oh you don’t even know the half of it…” replied the rat, rolling his eyes, “Oh well…let’s go downstairs.”

He made to move off, Retro moved to quickly repack his bag, chucked the clothes over his arms and the quite undamaged Xbox back in the bag.

Seriously! That thing could break your foot easily!

He gathered up a few other items, and then moved off a little…before stopping.

“Uh…hang on a sec.” he said, and dived into his bag, scrambling around inside it with his paws, not finding what he was looking for.

“I thought so…hey have any of you guys seen my copy of ‘Conker’s Bad Fur Day?” he shouted out to the three remaining members of the team on the roof.

Virus spread his hands, showing his coat held nothing.

Rogue just lifted his hands to the air as though saying, “Where could I put it?”

Lothar held down his hat.

“Not a damn clue…guess you must of left at the school.”

Retro looked around once more,

“Oh…I must have.” He said, and moved on, as he passed by Lothar, the echidna actually spoke to him.

“Hey fox, you don’t happen to be registered online with the box in your bag do ya?”

Retro was a little confused…then he noticed something….the voice.

“Yeeeah…I’m guessing you have an account too?”

“Yup, Lothar Hex!” said the echidna proudly. “And my guess is that you go by the name of ‘The Retrogamer’ right?”

Retro stood wide eyed,
“Wow! Cool to meet you! Hey that was a good game we had on Halo two, three nights ago remember?”

“Could you turn to the side a little?”
“Why?”
“So your bag is out of the way…thank you.”
“What is it?”

Lothar crunched his knuckles a little, then lunged out and cracked Retro a swinging hook around the head! The small fox flew forward down the stairs and flew through the door, startling Rogue and Virus who were already there; he was totally unconscious and bruising already.

“ROCKET WHORING SON OF A BITCH!” came the shout down the stairs.




Exterminatus Now, its characters and all Grim Darkness concepts copyright to Eastwood, Virus, Silversword and Lothar Hex.
All mentioned game names and consoles copyright to their rightful owners.
Fan-fiction is by Iain Stewart, not for re-use
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Wildfire1985
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The kid's in heaven and hell at the same time....
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CyberShadow
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Group: Decepticons
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Haha! I love the end part where Loth calls Retro a rocket whore!
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Shadow XIV
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By your powers combined I am... A MONSTER!!
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Heh heh. Rocket whore. Somehow I can see this happening :lol:

Pretty good so far Retro, keep it up
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Hercule Pyro
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You've done some terrible things, Mister Harry
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One teeny, tiny problem with your fic.

Eastwood already has an apprentice. :P Damien Jonson. He's not in EN as I don't think we've found any good reason to include him, but I assume he's left apprenticeship and gone on to become an Inquisitor in his own right.

Sketches of Damo (And Sally Acorn, considering they're basically the same specie, I assume it was a drawing exercise by Virus) > http://www.perfectlychaotic.com/junk/damiensketch1.jpg http://www.perfectlychaotic.com/junk/damiensketch2.jpg
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Retrogamer!
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IT'S HERESY
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Ah, tis one thing that I hadn't been THAT sure about, thanks for letting me know East.

Now see people Eastwood is stressing the importance of asking doing research before making a fic, dont be an idiot like me and rely on current knowledge of self. Ask to the ones that know like East.


But thanks for the feedback guys, good feedback is what drives me to want to write more.

And by the way those pics on the design of Damien are really nice, I like the character design on him.
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