>>67512797
And I forgot the namefagging. Great.

>I'm finally free of both horrible high-sec Government jobs and houseguests!

>I accomplished very little over the last month aside from movin , narrowly managing to keep my new job, and not-drowning my friends, so this'll just be around 15 posts long. Sorry. The goal is to start doing this as an "every 2-3 weeks" thing again now that I back in the mountains though.

>>67512869
ALRIGHT IT'S LEGIT LETS GOOOO

SHOGGY LIVES!
How's the new job?

GO TIME

Good to see you back Shoggy, looking forward to storytime!

>>67512869
Two questions:

What were the high security jobs?
Also, did the Eldar girl that was killed in the warehouse have any plot significance that made your GM upset you killed his waifu?

Welcome back, by the way.

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>>67512797

Our shaky relations with the local underworld were only a minor concern compared with the looming 10-day time limit on them throwing all our stuff out. We weren't sure what Oak would do to us if his super-secret Conspiracy-foiling boxes got thrown in the incinerator, but we were pretty sure death would be a preferable alternative, so it was an incredible relief when we finally got our first real break on the sixth day. That morning, thanks to a downright heroic series of fuck-up by the locals during the live fire drill, nearly two dozen legionnaires landed themselves in the base hospital, while another ten skipped straight to the morgue. Doc's offer to handle the post-SNAFU cleanup, including the augmetic "recycling", was eagerly accepted by the overworked head medicae.

That afternoon the drunken Commissar's escort was larger than usual, and a bag of tools was crammed under his chair. After the mandatory first stops to empty and refill the crotchey bastard, the parade paused at the morgue, where Tink and Twitch split off while Nubby and the ex-Con trainee stayed with the Commissar and kept an eye out for trouble. Inside the morgue, Doc had the seven legionnaires who'd died with their collars on laid out and ready, and watched over Tink's shoulder as the techie brought out his tools and announced his intention to start by isolating the primary control board. A few seconds of fiddling later, Tink had one of the collar's panels open, exposing a jumble of wires, circuits, shaped charges, and a little boxy-thing which he didn't recognize from the manual, which immediately started beeping. Tink managed to duck in time; Doc was covered with a light marinade of neck-bits.

While Doc swore and attempted to fish the legionnaire's head out from the table it had rolled under, Twitch seized the tools from Tink and reminded the techie that he'd told him so: the first step HAD to be disconnecting the detonators. Doc swore again as a second head rolled past him.

Something that has been bothering for some time.
The inquisitorial trial that you mentioned a lot of times (Sarge failing and throwing the bolter/Doc using Gravis's legs for cover) was that one where a truckload of parking tickets were dropped and you guys have been sent to the penal legion, or we are going to see it soon?

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THE ONE REASON TO KEEP LIVING FOR THE MAD LADS BORN FOR SCHEMING

>>67512797
We're just going to turn this awful weekend right around, aren't we?

>>67512894
Amazing, working from home, being able to go outside and think whenever I want to, and run off into the mountains after work is great. Only downside is I have to fly to San Francisco 4 times a year, starting week after next. Also, the work's boring, but that comes with the territory.

>>67512918
Great to be back, it's been way too long.

>>67512919
I was working in a SCIF section of the Denver Federal Center, coding amazing mundane bureaucratic forms, reports, and setting up automated data transfers and scraping for Bureau of Reclemation. Problem is, this stupid mundane data had TONS of personal shit for gov employees in it as well as some dam specs, hence the SCIF. It was stupid and it sucked. I get throwing your nuclear-weapons designers in a concrete bunker, but your HR report-writers?

>>67512797
>>67512869
Welcome back, Shoggy! Did you hit that good break point you were aiming for?

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I caught it live

>>67512919
She was supposed to help us kill the Daemonthrope by fashioning a Wraithbone weapon for us, offer a counter-route to the crazy Servo-Magus, and (I presume) dick us over at the first opportunity for being stupid enough to trust her.

>>67513007
Yes, but not today. It primarily features in the post-shitstorm epilogue, which I never imagined was so far off or I wouldn't have teased it back then.

>>67513095
Nah, we're going to stop right before the serious combat portion of the mission, as oppose to right after like I intended. Boo.

>>67513093
Your government goes so overboard. I was in charge of making half of North America's iodine-125 at a nuclear reactor. I personally witnessed high enriched uranium (not part of my direct job). By the time the reactor shut down, they had decreased my security clearance below SECRET.

>>67513171
Aww dang.
I was hoping she'd be another xeno crew-member and your GM was slowly pushing Sarge down the radical Xenos Inquisitor route with Kroot, Tau, Eldar, and Tyranids on the ship.

Would have definitely been interesting at the fabled trial.

>>67513171

SHOGGY LIVES! *STOMP STOMP!*

SHOGGY LIVES! *STOMP STOMP!*

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>>67512995

Ten minutes and four more headless corpses later, we'd firmly established several things NOT to do, especially in regards to the beepy-box thing. Tink was nursing a burned hand and arguing with Twitch over whether they should try wrapping the last collar in the some of scan-proof fabric they'd wrapped the tools in before they made an attempt on the final "volunteer", when the corpse in question abruptly sat up and announced that he actually felt completely fine and would be returning to duty now. There was a shocked pause as everyone tried to shift mental gears, and then the man and bolted for the exit. None of us had gotten more than three steps before the not-quite-dead legionnaire hit the heavy, metal, and (thank the Emperor) LOCKED fire-exit at a full sprint, and bounced off with a sound like a coconut being hit with bat. All three troopers breathed a sigh of relief, only to freeze as someone started knocking on the door from the far side.

Fortunately, the knocker turned out to just be the ex-con trainee. Once Doc let him in, he began to ask if we'd set off any alarms, only to break off mid-sentence as he registered the unholy mess of headless corpses, the patina of gore dripping off the walls, ceiling, and all three troopers, and the feebly-twitching legionnaire lying in front of the door. The trainee paled, and announced that we were all going to die. At Doc's prodding, he expanded, explaining that a posse consisting of the old sour-faced Commissar, his entourage, and the tech-priest in charge of the collars had just left the command building, and he was pretty sure they were coming this way. We had just a few minutes to somehow hide the evidence of collar-tampering and get out of here, or they'd have the lot of us up on the gallows before dinner-time. Doc whimpered, Twitch swore, and Tink pulled the unconscious legionnaire's pants off.

>>67513093
>I was working in a SCIF section of the Denver Federal Center

sounds mundane and routine, hope it's stable enough for you to finish AGP in the near future. honestly, contractor work with the work doesnt seem particularly attractive now.

my work involves CBP, which has basically been just short of a boeing plane into a train wreck for the past year. imagine having your anus clenched tighter than a submarine at 1000 ft depth at all times because the president keeps declaring random shit that CBP has no idea how to enforce, among other things.

It's Monday morning. I'm in the office. I won't have any real work until tomorrow. Shoggy is posting. I am ready.

>>67513278
Ha, the one upside of that job was that shutdowns and other such silliness had no effect on it. BoR controls too many crucial dams to explicitly defund, and can self-fund off the hydro-electricity they sell if they want to. Overall I really enjoyed the people and especially the hardcore water scientists there, just hated my individual job.

>>67513227
I think that was one of his plans for the eventual endgame, but the 40kism about a mind too small for doubt sort of held true. Maybe it was be more "Blessed is the player too-metagamey to touch dubious plothooks with a 10-foot pole" though

Which version of Dark Heresy were you using? It sounds like 1st edition with mentions of adepts.

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>>67513260

Outside the morgue, Nubby noted that the trainee hadn't come back, and the commissarial posse the man had been so worried about seemed to be heading towards the hospital's entrance. After briefly debating finding somewhere else to be, the little trooper decided that what was probably needed was good old fashioned distraction. He eyed the composition of the oncoming group, and then chair-bound Commissar on the pallet next to him, who'd worked his way through half the bottle of Sacra they'd given him after breakfast to keep him quiet, and then grabbed the pallet's handles. As he pushed his cargo on an intercept-course for the posse, he leaned forwards: "Eh, uhh, sir? I was wonderin, what'cher 'pinion on... tech-priests?"

The approaching group saw Nubby and his pallet coming; it was a bit hard to miss them, given that the drunken old man riding it was slurring at the top of his lungs about how if he had it his way all those smug metal bastards would be rounded up and shot like the heretics they were. His volume only grew as, at Nubby's prodding, he began expounding the various shortcomings of the martian priesthood, ranging from the moral, to the personal, to the sexual, and what he felt should be done about them. The group immediately began to curve around the obstacle, only to find Nubby and the Commissar turning to match them, and then turning again as they tried the opposite side. The demented game of anti-chicken continued until, at a range of around 15 meters, the ranting Commissar spotted the group's tech-priest, and loudly instructed his minion to push him closer. Nubby did as ordered.

>>67513402
1st and OW. Second was out (I think?) but it didn't really hit popularity after we started, and our GM far preferred to just poach rules from it than move systems entirely

>>67512797
based Shoggy has graced us with his company and tales once again. thank you for taking the time to regail us with the stories of your groups exploits.

>>67512797
SHOGGY!
What's next after AGP? What's the next storytime? What dastardly campaign shenanigans have occured since you finished this game?

H Y P E

Y P E H

P E H Y

E H Y P

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>>67513431

Faced with the fearsome might of Nubby's speeding pallet of doom, the approaching Commissar and his cadets abandoned the field of battle and dodged off into the mud next to the path. The tech-priest tried to dodge with them, only to find himself back in the line of fire as the white-haired Cadet next to him suddenly slipped on the mud and shoulder-checked him back onto the path. The pallet smashed through the cogboy's shins like they weren't even there, because they weren't, the grav plate that'd replaced them bobbed him over the metal edge without it even ruffling the hem of his robes; the Commissar riding it on the other hand…

The now-empty Sacra bottle shattered spectacularly as it hit the tech-priest's metal jaw and the man reeled backwards, only to be brought up short by the liver-spotted hand gripping the front of his robes. The four Cadet-Commissars watched as their nominal superior with a mixture of shock, horror, and in Aimy's case, poorly disguised glee, as he drunkenly menaced the terrified tech-priest with the jagged remains of his bottle and Nubby cheered him on. Sadly, the show didn't last long: Nubby's cheers abruptly cut off as his collar sent a few thousand volts through his neck, and the weasel-faced old Commissar stomped forward and knocked both the bottle and the tech-priest out of Commissar Kelly's hands. The chair-bound commissar started to angrily slur something, only to pause as he registered who'd disarmed him, and instead fix the man with a look of immense hatred, which the other Commissar returned in kind.

After nearly two minutes of mutual death-glaring (which is a lot, at least if you're doing it properly), the more vertical of the pair broke off and shifted his glare to Nubby. He gave the still-twitching trooper a few stress-relieving kicks to the ribs, instructed one of his flunkies to load him onto the pallet and return both him and the Commissar to our barracks, and resumed his march towards the hospital.

>>67513559
I... don't know? I've been doing this for way, way longer than I ever intended.

I've got 2 different video game things I'd like to do (plus one more to commemorate whenever Dwarf Fortress hits steam) and Failer keeps talking about doing an extended Shadowrun campaign if we can pry Sarge and Doc's players away from their kids long enough to do it.

Might wind up hanging out in the weekly writethread a bit, or doing some more of those fun move threads too. Hell, maybe I'll try my hand at a quest, though I'm unsure I'd have the mental fortitude to post as much as those hardcore /qst/ guys do.

Gotta finish this first. That's what's really important.

>>67513672
As a previous quest writer (we're talking years and years ago) your best bet is to not take them seriously at all, or just stay away.
Fun little one-shots got me a lot more love than trying to start anything serious.

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>>67513616

When the Commissar and his posse finally entered the morgue, with their bolt-pistols drawn and a worried-looking Head Medicae bringing up the rear, they found a blood-spattered Doc standing over a similarly stained pile of clothing and augmetic body-parts. The Medic snapped to attention, attempted to salute, nearly brained himself with the severed metal arm he was holding, and (following the first rule of survival-oriented soldiers since time immemorial) Kept His Damn Mouth Shut. The Commissar eyed him for a second, and then swept his gaze around the morgue, taking in both the bloody mess and the complete lack of any other living legionnaires in the room. He motioned to the tech-priest, who waved around something that looked like a cross between a dataslate and an auspex, and then pointed at the pile next to Doc.

At the Commissar's signal, Aimy moved forwards, dug around in the bloody mess, and after the slightest pause, extracted one of the detonated collars from it. The Commissar fixed Doc with an absolutely menacing gaze, and asked what in the Emperor's name he thought he was doing here. Doc didn't need to feign the panic in his voice as he began rattling off the Generian Regimental Regulations (5th Edition, of course) on the Post-Mortem Recovery of Wargear, Augmetics, and Personal Effects of Greater than Fifty Thrones Value. The Commissar's expression didn't change, but the cadets behind him shared a disbelieving look and the Head Medicae let out a pained groan. Aimy, catching on immediately, summoned every ounce of incredulous disgust she could muster as she asked if he was really stupid enough to try and salvage a live discipline collar. Doc just blinked at her, and claimed that it hadn't been THAT hard, at least not after he'd figured out you could skip the bonesaw if you set them off first by poking the "beepy-bit" with a scalpel.

>>67513672
Send the kids to Disney World with a robot. Then play Shadowrun XR.

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>>67513885

Inside the large medical waste bin at the far end of the room, Tink, Twitch, and the trainee listened as the Tech-Priest ranted at the Head Medicae about agreed upon procedures and standards of training for all medical personnel. Any relief on their part quickly evaporated as the Commissar told the arguing pair save it for later and asked the Tech-Priest whether he was sure there weren't any other legionnaires present. All three troopers in the bin tightened the strips of scan-proof cloth they'd torn off the tool bag and wrapped around their collars, and hoped like hell that Tink actually knew what he was talking about for once.

Out in the room, Doc suffered a moment of heart failure as the tech-priest waved around his auspex-slate and announced that there was some interference from all the screamer-signals, but he was picking up at least two still-active collars in the room; the Commissar immediately tapped something on his own dataslate. Doc dropped to the floor, thrashing and clutching at his sparking collar, and so did the not-quite-dead legionnaire on one of the nearby tables. The Commissar pondered this new development for a second, then shot the man in the head with his bolt pistol. There was a slight rustle from the bin as Twitch misinterpreted the sound, but fortunately nobody noticed and Tink and the trainee managed to hold him down.

The Commissar, once he'd deactivated the shocker, gave Doc a brief, but incredibly condescending lecture on penal legion regulations vis-a-vis corpses and collars, and how the latter were the sole responsibility of the Commissariat. He wrapped it up by punching a command into his dataslate and holding his thumb against the biometric reader on it, and then freshly-decapitated legionaire's collar popped open. His little demonstration done, the Commissar began to collect his posse, only to pause and shoot a look at where Aimy was still standing next to Doc. In a thoughtful voice, he asked if they knew each other.

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>>67513431
>he group immediately began to curve around the obstacle, only to find Nubby and the Commissar turning to match them, and then turning again as they tried the opposite side. The demented game of anti-chicken continued until, at a range of around 15 meters, the ranting Commissar spotted the group's tech-priest, and loudly instructed his minion to push him closer. Nubby did as ordered.

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>>67513885
>Doc just blinked at her, and claimed that it hadn't been THAT hard, at least not after he'd figured out you could skip the bonesaw if you set them off first by poking the "beepy-bit" with a scalpel.

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>>67514156
>In a thoughtful voice, he asked if they knew each other.

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>>67514156

Doc's "No" was cut off by Aimy's "Yes", after a slight pause, in which the Commissar gave Aimy a very piercing look, the markswoman explained that they'd just arrived in camp together. The Commissar stared at her some more, and then shrugged and announced that she wouldn't have any problem handling his discipline them. Aimy, without even the slightest hesitation, turned and popped Doc in the jaw hard enough to knock the medic across the nearest table. The Commissar just sighed, shook his head, and held out his whip to her as his Cadets dragged Doc outside towards the parade-ground.

When Sarge returned from his groundskeeping detail, he was less than thrilled to find Doc lying on his stomach with a pile of inexpertly-applied bandages on his back, Nubby with a similar set around his burned neck, and Tink and Twitch arguing with each other about who'd been wronger. The only real bright side of the whole thing, aside from nobody actually getting killed, was that Doc managed to get in a brief word with Aimy as she cut him down from the whipping post. He was able to direct the markswoman towards the camp chapel, and that evening the ex-Cleric managed to finally catch her alone long enough to relay our urgent request for our mislaid transfer paperwork. At Tink's request the trainee also asked if she could get us one of those fancy collar-removing dataslates, but Aimy said that wasn't going to happen: while they had her dressed up like a red-coat, they sure as shit didn't trust her like one. Not only did the old Commissar have his minions following her and snitching on her every action when she was out of his sight, she wasn't even allowed to have a weapon and he personally frisked her every time they left the command building. Honestly that last bit surprised the hell out of us, not because it didn't make sense, but because none of us ever imagined Aimy had the self control not to at least try to kill the unpleasant old bastard on the spot.

>>67514520
>frisked Amy
There will be a reckoning. He should enjoy the use of his hands while he still has them. And arms.

>>67514520
Just waiting for a baby commissar to bad mouth her hair

>>67514606

I am sure there were a great many willpower checks to keep Aimy from going full Khornate on the baby commissars.

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>>67514520

Anyway, Aimy claimed that even if she could score us a Commissar's dataslate, they could only remove collars with the biometric authorization of their owner, and she didn't see herself getting out the door with an unconscious red-coat draped over her shoulder. The best she might be able to do would be a Cadet's dataslate, but that was what our Commissar had, so the Cleric trainee told her not to bother. So no fancy dataslate for us, but she promised to get the orders to us in time for our infiltration, which Sarge's "plan" said was four days off. And yes, the term was definitely "plan", because even Twitch and Nubby's most harebrained schemes had more structure than what our fearless leader was proposing.

Okay, maybe that's a bit harsh, Sarge's favorite all-purpose command "handle it" only appeared at five points, but that's still five more than anyone who's about to BREAK INTO AN INQUISITORIAL FACILITY would ever say they're comfortable with. The general theory was to start by taking the majority of the Interrogator's notes on entry-points, especially all the details about the defunct tunnels under that whole compound, and chucking them in a bin. We figured that if the man felt putting on a Headquarters-Security uniform and going in the front door was good enough for him, it would be good enough for all of us too. Of course we were shy at least four of said uniforms, but we figured a visit to the compound laundry would fix that, problem was, the fellows working the place were beyond useless. We'd known their recent run-in with the Commissariat would leave them cagey, but the second Nubby even floated a suggestion their way, they'd all clammed up and threatened to call the Commissars. Sarge's personal visit to their building and offer to swap duties with them, which had been met with outright hostility and paranoid accusations of working for one of the other crime families, had rounded off the general cavalcade of failure that was the sixth day.

Praise be, Shoggy is risen!

Also, damn you for making me stay up late because there's no way in hell I"m missing this.

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>>67514697

So we needed a bunch of uniforms we didn't know how to get, and to remove a bunch of collars we didn't know how to remove, and that was still before we even got in the door. Once inside and passed the manned checkpoint that was the main barrier to entry, Tink and the ex-Scribe were fairly certain we'd be able to move through the majority of the facility using the security badges everyone who went in there seemed to be wearing. We just had to get one, somehow, and use the card-reading datalsate that'd been in the interrogator's stash to copy it onto a few other cards, also acquired "somehow". The incredibly vague plan after that was to walk around, potentially kidnap some clerk and force him to disgorge some directions, and eventually find wherever they'd shoved our gear and Oak's boxes. The one actual firm part of the whole thing was that since that was the day they'd be throwing our stuff out, nobody should blink when we showed up and grabbed it. Now, what they'd think when we rolled up to Oak's evidence-locker…

Anyway, skipping over the question of how we'd get access to the evidence for what seemed to be the biggest case in the sub-sector, at least the Interrogator's notes had some reassuring bits in them about security screamer-tags only being applied to the contents of evidence boxes. Theoretically, we would be able to go in and swap Oak's boxes with some of the containers in his locker, and leave with the leftover empties without setting off any alarms. Then it would just be a matter of taking all of our stuff out the shipping entrance under the guise of incineration, and then just cheesing it back to… somewhere.

So, yeah, safe to say were a bit dubious. Still, though, if Oak had told the truth about them putting everything we'd had on the Arbite vessel into storage, once we got to our locker we'd have weapons, grenades, and three entire crates of high-explosives to work with... and in our experience that could "handle" pretty much anything.

>>67512797
Hoo yea! Best way to start a Monday!

>>67514990
Oh hey! You're still around! Pretty sure you deserve an award for longest-running/most-active Name-Fag on the board, I swear I've been seeing you since 2010.

>>67512797
God bless you Shoggy. Glad you're doing better.

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>>67514942

Time being limited and the idiots on laundry duty being uncooperative, the next day we launched what could be called a hostile takeover. Emphasis on the hostile part. Given their paranoia they were probably expecting something, but we didn't show up at their barracks in the middle of the night with a bunch of lead pipes and making faux-subtle comments about unrefusable offers: that's civvy thinking there. Any proper soldier can tell you that even the most low-key training drills offers an amazing array of ways for someone to check themselves off the active-duty roster, especially if their comrades are willing to give murphy a little hand.

First there was the catastrophic knee dislocation during PT, then the unfortunate incident where two legionnaires fell into the razor-wire they were practicing clearing, and the poor fellow who's collar malfunctioned during the mud-crawl. Obviously this all caused a bit of distraction in their platoon-mates, which was probably the reason that three more of them managed to misplace their assigned dummy-weapons. The Commissar in charge of their platoon seemed willing to go easy on them, but at the arrival of a bunch of cadets, one of whom promptly began asking pointed questions about the disciplinary regulations, he decided to make a bit of an example. That afternoon, after the whipping and publicly announced reassignment back to remedial drills with the latest bus-load of FNGs, the Commissar in charge of the work detail assignments asked for volunteers with prior laundry experience. For some reason, nobody aside from us stepped forward.

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>>67515060
fuck you shoggy I have work in the morning. Carry on you glorious bastard glad to see you doing well.

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>>67515121
>>67515303
Glad to BE doing better. I had no idea how much I missed being active, not being stuck in the middle of a city, and being able to enjoy myself without worrying about shit.

Makes a huge difference being up here, doing shit I actually again.

>>67512797

Dear Shoggy, thanks for your persistence & merry tales. Your storytelling always brought a welcome laugh during these shitty 3 last years of my life, and the AGP is a legend amongst my university friends...in Spain.

We are scattered worldwide (PhD) and still announce the good news to each other via whattsapp whenever a new AGP comes out. You have inspired me to master a guard game, which I will try to run in W&G.
Your job into making the canon relatable through the adventures of that merry band of misfits is a credit to the guard.

In my name and theirs, thanks for all your help, dedication, and bringing us your unique outlook about the 40K universe.
You have made a lot more of happier lives that you may suspect.
Rock on you magnificent writer, and never doubt your talent. May Black library "officially" sanction what anonkind already has.

>>67515060
Ay thanks Shogs. 4chunner 4 lyfe. Been here since maybe 2007/8? Can't even remember. AGP is one of the best story-series of /tg/, up there in the hall of fames along with TwoDee's Shadowrun Stories.

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>>67515216

Laundry duty involved a disappointingly high amount of actual duty, largely due to the Commissar that'd previously managed the detail sticking around to make sure we didn't burn the place down or anything. The man actually seemed pretty impressed by our well-honed stain-scrubbing and underpants-starching skills and willingly turned command over to the morose cadet officially overseeing us at the end of the shift. Still though the way he was looking over our shoulders while we worked was enough to discourage us from trying to pocket anything. It wasn't a total waste though, we were at least able to ascertain that suitable numbers of HQ Stormtrooper uniforms came through for us to borrow a few, and we did indeed spot one with an ID badge carelessly left still-attached. That specific uniform wound up mis-filed back into the "IN" pile.

Upon our return to base, we received even more good news: during their medically-mandated light Commissar-sitting duty, Doc and Nubby had come up with an actual non-suicidal idea for dealing with the collars. Well, actually it was Nubby's idea mostly, but that didn't NECESSARILY rule it out. While sitting around, watching the old Commissar work his way through the fourth bottle of the day, Doc had regaled Nubby with an in-depth, profanity filled, account of Tink and Twitch's decapacitation experimentation. At the point where everyone except the unfortunate medic had hidden in the bin, Nubby raised the question whether we REALLY needed anything better than the scan-proof fabric. After all, if the stuff could block that tech-priest's scanner, wouldn't it also block the Commissars' data-slates and whatever they used to watch for escapees? Doc's excitement over this novel new idea soured somewhat when he was nominated to be the test-subject while Nubby played mad-scientist with the old Commissar's dataslate.

Holy shit, this is the very first one of these I've caught live.

Shoggy, I love you and you inspire me to writefag, but I got college in the morning and I can't find my wallet. I got shit to do.
Shine on you brilliant bastard! You're proof why OPs are not always faggots.

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>>67515392

So, after a few hours of painful experimentation, at least on the testee's part, Nubby and Doc delivered the verdict that an anti-scan scarf would definitely, totally, 100% do the trick. At least, if we kept the heist to under 20 minutes that is, because after that point the collar would start loudly beeping and administering increasingly powerful shocks until the covering was taken off it. Doc estimated, using some completely arbitrary math, that if we really had to we could stretch it to a whole hour before the shocks became incapacitating, and maybe another half hour after that before they became fatal. The ex-Scribe trainee corrected this figure down to just 40 minutes, because at that point the collar would just give up and detonate, he'd seen it happen to some of the legionnaires that the Commissars had assigned to run messages, back before the Inquisition got tired of cleaning up the bodies and told them to knock it off. Doc got really pale at this and decided to leave further testing to Tink and Twitch (who were both less than thrilled to be shown up by Nubby of all people).

Our moderately-productive of possible excuses for why a squad of Inquisitorial Stormtoopers would show up to the Evidence Building wearing a collection of scarves, neckerchiefs, or other neck-covering attire was interrupted by someone knocking on the barracks door. Sarge's disgust was palpable when he opened it to find the same big stupid bastard that'd shaken us down for booze a few days ago, this time backed up by a full eight flunkies as well as the badly-limping boss of the former laundry-gang. The lead-thug glowered at Sarge in a manner that was probably supposed to be threatening, but mostly came off as constipated, and informed us that we owed his "new best buddy" an apology. A material one.

Sarge barely managed not to roll his eyes as the idiot rubbed his fingers and thumb together in front of his face.

>>67513672
>Shoggy confirmed not Sarge or Doc
Hmmm...

>>67515516
iirc he's twitch?

>>67515516
It was confirmed ages ago that he played Nubby.

>>67515516
General vote is shoggy being nubby nubs. Between his master of words and extreame defense when questions on the varying amounts of totally not nubbys fault shittery.

>>67515539
Twitch was played by the dude who played Tommy Trollfucker (according to Failer).

>>67515516
>>67515539
I thought he was basically confirmed as nubby a while back

>>67515216
>>67515481
At this point it might just be easier to take out the incinerator crew and just be handed the boxes directly.

>>67515481
Brace for shit-fanning.

>>67515539
Considering irl twitch gaurdified shoggys home under the guise of "installing a proper gaming table". That and twitches player knows about nukes too is terrifying.

Okay I've got the fieces-funnel for the fecal-fan. Who'es ready for the excrement-extravagnaza

>>67515557
Yeah, and he's a fricken nuke engineer now.

>>67515589
I need to get a picture of it after I get it back out of storage. They got all pissy about me having only folding tables in my place, so he goes out and gets a thrift-store dining table, takes a sawzall to it, and shoves my extra flatscreen into the hole and caulks some plastic covering over it. I swear I only left them unsupervised for a single day...

>>67515626

One day is all it takes to a dedicated neckbeard with a collection of power tools.

>>67515626
...dude wtf when I hear gaming table I picture one with minies and little building modules or something but fucking hell I've been in the military for years and seen some shit but this just overwhelms my chuckle fuck senses.

>>67515653
>>67515679
I'll try to remember to snap a pic of what happens when you leave a machinist and a cabinet maker unattended for a weekend

>>67512797
YES, I MADE IT

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>>67515481

Once again, we were stunned by just how suicidally stupid these guys were. It wasn't just that they showed up at our door to try and intimidate us with what was, at best, roughly equal strength, they also had the absolute gall to demand not only the hand-over of laundry-detail, but the old Commissar as well. Sarge did actually TRY to talk them out of it (even if it was mostly just to buy time). He began to say something along the lines of "just give us three more days to enact our secret Inquisitorial mission and it's all yours", but managed to catch himself in time and converted it to a vague request to work the job until all the old laundry crew was healed. This, coupled with some alcoholic reparations, the return of most of Tink and Twitch's tools, and the Owing of a One, seemed like a more than reasonable offer to us. Even the laundry-boss seemed to think so, judging by the way his expression fell and he started backing up when the big thug rejected it. Sarge's expression, on the other hand, didn't even change as his sucker-punch hit the idiot in the jaw.

Surprisingly, the lead thug didn't fall down, at least not until one of the full liquor bottles the rest of us had been collecting for the bribe hit him square in the nose with every ounce of force Doc's throwing arm could muster. That shot was followed by two more bottles courtesy of Tink and Nubby, which hit the nearest two flunkies in the stomach and groin respectively. Twitch's bottle had a little flaming rag stuffed in the mouth and all things considered, it was probably a good thing that it just bounced off his target's head with comical thunk as opposed to shattering like he'd intended. Those thugs remaining upright immediately drew a combination of shivs, pipes, and clubs and started to advance, only to scatter backwards as Sarge kicked their leader down the short stairs like an especially ugly bowling ball. The arrival of the four trainees on both their flanks was a bit redundant.

Shoggy I love your stuff man that's what got me into 40k!
Keep up the great work my guy
(Also once you are done with agp do you plan to make another 40k long series or you'll try another game)

>>67515789
>Twitch, within a single round of combat, makes a molotov cocktail, lights it, and throws it
>And no one is surprised by this and just thankful he didn't accidentally kill someone on purpose
Good to hear his player is just as spontaneous if no one's watching him.

>>67515679
Yeah, they said they wanted "big enough for six people, designated player spots, and a map". I thought they meant tape and shit, instead I come home a big-ass dining room table with plywood book-holders glued onto it and a giant hole in the middle. I was still finding sawdust and scrap wood for like a month.

>>67515856
Well, crafting was done out-of-combat while Sarge blathered. It didn't occur to any of us that it was supposed to be non-lethal combat until we'd already started.

>>67515809
Not sure, will have to see, but I promise there'll be SOMETHING in the future (assuming I ever finish this properly...)

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>>67515789

The one-sided scuffle was brought to an abrupt halt by a stream of slurred profanity, an (empty) bottle to the back of Tink's head, and a long shock from all of our collars as the old Commissar woke up and demanded to know who'd been stealing his drinks. After a brief pause, in which the few thugs still capable of fighting visibly debated whether to try and take us while the collars had us down, and unanimously decided to just cheese it before any real red-coats showed up. All weapons were immediately stashed and all un-broken bottles (including Twitch's still-burning one) were retrieved from mud and returned to their rightful place next to the old Commissar's chair. Tink exchanged an open one with a straw in it for the man's dataslate before he could shock us anymore. As the thugs staggered, crawled, or were dragged back off to whichever barracks they'd come from, the former laundry-boss (who'd made the wise decision to just stand very still at the back of the group and see how things worked out) sighed and advised Sarge to be very careful before limping off after his new "friends".

Despite what certain superiors of ours have said about our mental faculties in comparison to those of a waterlogged gerbil, we knew a hint when we were explicitly handed one with a little red bow on top. That's why the five unfamiliar legionnaires lounging around the nearest bathrooms the next morning were so surprised to find all nine of us treating Sarge's morning shit as a group exercise. Similar groups were dissuaded during roll-call, service, and PT, as well as a larger group who seemed to be aiming to eat their breakfast next to us until the combined weight of Sarge and Twitch's concentrated glaring convinced them to find something else to do.

>>67515859
Making a custom table is cool, not cleaning up after making it isn't.
You've got some good/interesting friends Shoggy.

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>>67515977

The goons obviously could take a hint too, because when we got to training field, we encountered a pair of Cadets splitting incoming legionnaires up into new squads for morning drills. When the two baby Commissars spotted us, they immediately began homing in and started to bark off what sounded like carefully memorized group assignments, only to pause as none of us moved and they belatedly registered the snoring old Commissar we'd decided to bring with us. Sarge casually informed them that we had orders to stay as a unit, and asked if they wanted to have a word with our Commissar about changing that. The two cadets blanched, shared a look, and then left without saying anything more.

The downside of bringing the Commissar with us was having to literally carry him, the chair, and the pallet through a full morning of drills, which made us a bit of a sitting duck. Aside from the occasional barrage of rocks or mud and unsuccessful attempts to sic other Commissars on us, the chief hazard was periodic attempts to sneak up and snatch or shank someone, which is a bit hard to pull off in an open-bloody-field, especially when one of the targets is a professional paranoid. Still though, had to give them points for persistence, most folks would quit after seeing a comrade lose BOTH eyes to crazed, fork-wielding demolitions trooper…

There was a brief lull during lunch, followed by one last attack by a lone legionnaire who attempted to grab Sarge in the chow line. At least, we assumed it was an attack, just, like, a really half-assed one… fortunately the guy only received a little tap to the nose and a light round of kicking before the trainees pointed out that he wasn't affiliated with any known crime family, and mostly just ran messages for people. After some awkward sorries, a few bandaids, and some apology-booze from under the Commissar's chair, we received a note from Aimy directing us to meet her the following evening and collect our orders.

Is it bad that drunk!commissar is fast becoming a cherished character who I hope gets promoted in the end?

>>67512797
Holly cow I finally found one of these, they are the best thing neckeardia ever showed.
You know the all guardsmen party would have been the most badass live action show and far better that whatever we are getting whit Eisenhorn. Hell the first season could have been just the first Ork invasion, Hell the first episode alone would have us focused on a single guardsman going through boot camp in the intro, just to be killed as soon as it ends by an Ork, then cut to the OG party and ending on the one guy who ran away.
Episode 2 open whit that guy getting executed by a commissar.

>>67516129
mostly just makes me want to watch Father Ted

>>67516104
You know it just hit me....is twitch the descendant of old man henderson?

>>67516188
I started working on putting together an AGP web series but put it on hold when I realized what a dumpster fire SFM is. If I ever figure out how to use another 3D animation software I may take a swing at doing a demo section to see if I could do it well.

"I haven't heard from Shoggy in a while, let's check the website to see if he's updated"
>next post will be on the 28th at 6pm.
.
.
.
WAIT A MINUTE

Glad to hear your life finally took an upswing mate. Living in the mountains definitely makes me jealous.

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The afternoon was blissfully shanking-attempt free. There was some concern about the Commissar-watching portion of the team, as well as what might happen to our barracks while we were away, but a deal was worked out with the two depressed Cadets who actually handled all the Commissar's duties, which entailed one of them accompanying their boss and Twitch during his daily walk while the other managed our laundry detail, in exchange for the ex-Scribe trainee doing the day's paperwork. By the end of our shift, Nubby's increasingly filthy legion-issue jacket contained three ID badges as well as some promisingly scarf-like bits of clothing, and a test run was made to both the front and freight entrances to the Evidence building under the guise of an unscheduled uniform delivery. Rather worryingly, both runs pushed the twenty-minute mark without even actually getting past security.

That night The Plan was revisited, and we came to the uncomfortable conclusion that, unless Tink and Twitch suddenly figured out how to get our collars off, we were going to need to bring one of those Commissar dataslates on the mission with us to periodically reset their timers like they did on work-details. This wasn't a problem in and of itself, we had one of those dataslates just lying around, the real issue was that it needed to be periodically "refreshed" by it's designated user via the slate's biometric scanner. We fervently hoped Aimy was going to be able to grab a slate and join on the mission, because the only other option involved an unconscious "volunteer" and a laundry hamper, which we were pretty sure would raise some eyebrows at the security checkpoint. In retrospect, this might've been a bit of an optimistic take on things...

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>right, I'm nodding off (at just 11, I'm a pussy these days I guess...), and this is about there I expected to get to anyway.

>Given that I'm going to be hauled off to fricken San Fran in 2 weeks, I'm going to aim to put in the next posting the weekened of the 17th. Should finally get out of this weird prisonbreak-esque stuff and back to good old fashioned combat and blind-panic then, so hopefully I should be able to get all the way to the end of the "chapter" and ready to start the final stretch.

>I know I keep saying it, but this is the beginning of the end here. The finish line is actually in sight

>>67516518
Rest well shoggy you bastard you.

>>67516518
I'm in SF! Are you going to an event?

Gotta sleep Shoggy so I will read in the AM. Excited to see you back.

>>67516518
Thanks for the story update Shoggy! They're always appreciated and enjoyed.

>>67516565
I think hes heading there for work, he mentioned something about it back at the start of the thread.

>>67516565
Nah, gotta go physically show my face at the employer's place, presumably to remind them that I actually exist and am deserving of paychecks.

I'm supposed to be going to and office in Embargodero or something like that during the days, fuck if I know where they'll shoving me at night. Whole thing looks far too complex and crowded for my taste, but it'll only be a week and then I can escape again.

>>67516643
Ha, yeah, I usually avoid the Embarcadero because the parking is terrible. Not sure if you'll have any time to sight see but we have some great restaurants and museums. Skip Peir 39 tho, its just a solid mass of tourists.

>>67516518
>Actually going to San Fransisco
>For a whole WEEK
Be careful Shoggy. Don't want you to catch the homosex.
Try not to drink the water. Just drink some beer whenever you're thirsty, preferably in front of your employer, to assert your dominance.

Godspeed, Shoggy. Godspeed...

Shoggy, I ducking love you

Nice

You know, Nubby pushing the drunk commisar around reminds me of the Gretchin pushing the crazy weirdboy around.

>>67519523
inb4 they meet a Freeboota Kaptin that's literally an Ork version of this

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>>67515977
>>67516104

wait are you seriously using this poor, drunken, almost senile commissar as a duct-taped blank
i love it

>>67516518
Thanks for the show, boss!

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>>67512797
*sips coffee*

>>67512797
Thanks a million times for another story time, Shoggy!

>>67516518
Thank you Shoggy!

Live. And not when I have time, naturally.

Mooore

>>67513672
Just wanna say AGP has been a mainstay of my time at uni, and is commonly quoted at our DH games. Id love to see a shadowrun game

This was great shoggy! Thanks!

>>67521058
You might want to check out Shadowrun Storytimy by 2D - a story that was quoted by Shoggy as an inspirstion to this glorious saga (if you haven't already, ofcourse)

Been lurking these since the beginning. Feel like I should thank you for this wild ride.

>>67527614

Glorious.

Bless you, Shoggy.

AGP has gotten me through shitty jobs, shitty games, long stretches of time with nothing to do, and it's been an inspiration for storytelling and gaming for me for years.

Thank you so much. It's hella exciting to be around for the end

>>67516416
>That night The Plan was revisited, and we came to the uncomfortable conclusion that, unless Tink and Twitch suddenly figured out how to get our collars off, we were going to need to bring one of those Commissar dataslates on the mission with us to periodically reset their timers like they did on work-details. This wasn't a problem in and of itself, we had one of those dataslates just lying around, the real issue was that it needed to be periodically "refreshed" by it's designated user via the slate's biometric scanner. We fervently hoped Aimy was going to be able to grab a slate and join on the mission, because the only other option involved an unconscious "volunteer" and a laundry hamper, which we were pretty sure would raise some eyebrows at the security checkpoint. In retrospect, this might've been a bit of an optimistic take on things...
and we might've ended out making it through without a mission, but we still weren't prepared for what would happen.

"We're leaving"

We waited for just over half an hour before Tink finally decided that we were done. We would probably all be pissed now, the idea that he had given up on us had become almost comical, and he didn't seem to be enjoying taking any of this time. We were pretty convinced we would be ejected