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My wife told me she finds Space Marines frightening. What?!


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Greetings fraters, so we were driving past some wind turbines the other day, and my wife started telling our son how she doesn't like getting close to them as she has a phobia of big structures/machines. Then, out of nowhere, she then stated "I don't like those Warhammer men with the big boots either." Huh? Did she mean Space Marines?

 

I asked her about it the following day - yes, she did mean Space Marines. Apparently, they fit in to the category of big stuff that she is frightened of. (She then went on to add that she doesn't like 'those big robots' in Pacific Rim either - I'd say they're more in the ball park of her phobia than a Space Marine :lol:).

 

On the one hand, I am still mildly amused by this - I mean, aside from my miniatures, and some Codex cover art, I don't think my wife has ever seen anything approaching a life size representation of a Space Marine :D On the other, I guess it's an accurate 'in universe' reaction that normal (base-line) humans could (or are meant to) have to Astartes.

 

Anyway, I thought this might provide a smile at least, in the midst of these strange times! :)

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There's always the Sisters of Battle. Just make sure to give your all to the Emperor. They nag and you don't want them to nag.

gallery_37154_12894_6953.jpg

Heh, I did manage to interest her (briefly) in having a go at painting some Sisters several years ago :lol:
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My mother (who takes an interest in the hobby from an artistic point) used to find Dreadnoughts hilarious due to their vending machine shape- and then I explained how they worked (being walking life support machines) and she found them existentially terrifying.

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My mother (who takes an interest in the hobby from an artistic point) used to find Dreadnoughts hilarious due to their vending machine shape- and then I explained how they worked (being walking life support machines) and she found them existentially terrifying.

You should Tell her that it's not a big deal, the guys inside are happy to serve beyond death. Penitent Engines on the other hand.... ;)
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My mother (who takes an interest in the hobby from an artistic point) used to find Dreadnoughts hilarious due to their vending machine shape- and then I explained how they worked (being walking life support machines) and she found them existentially terrifying.

Wait til she hears about the Necrons, Dark Eldar, Chaos Space Marines, Tyranids...

:teehee:

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I mean, I get fearing a real space marine. 8ft tall sociopaths wielding missile launchers and chainsaws coming to kill you if you have the wrong personal opinions is definitely an odd phobia, but in-universe it makes sense. IRL, less so.

 

I get the dreadnought fear. Have you read about chaos dreads? I would love to be nowhere near those thanks.

 

Being locked in a sensory deprivation chamber for millennia on end, while being dusted off every so often for a bunch of monks to ask me what it was like back in my day. Each time, new faces I was expected to care about and help against horrors unimaginable, all the while in agony as my wounded, broken body disintegrates in the amniotic fluid that sustains my unnatural existence, which has devolved into near-endless war. I'll pass on that thanks.

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Well, you could always say that your mother in law reminds you of a Space Marine and that's why you collect them: to help you cope with your fear of her.

 

On second thought, maybe that's not such a good idea after all, unless you want to be sleeping in your hobby room. It would give you more time to paint though, so there's a positive spin.

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I mean, I get fearing a real space marine. 8ft tall sociopaths wielding missile launchers and chainsaws coming to kill you if you have the wrong personal opinions is definitely an odd phobia, but in-universe it makes sense. IRL, less so.

I get the dreadnought fear. Have you read about chaos dreads? I would love to be nowhere near those thanks.

Being locked in a sensory deprivation chamber for millennia on end, while being dusted off every so often for a bunch of monks to ask me what it was like back in my day. Each time, new faces I was expected to care about and help against horrors unimaginable, all the while in agony as my wounded, broken body disintegrates in the amniotic fluid that sustains my unnatural existence, which has devolved into near-endless war. I'll pass on that thanks.

You don’t have enough spite for the ones who wounded you then. Another chance to destroy the foul Xenos bastards that took my legs and stomach and arms? Yes please, can I have a gun that shoots 1200 armor piercing rounds a minute for said job? I wanna see how many I can cut in half from point blank range. Don’t worry, I’ll clear the breach first to make sure my battle brothers are safe, and may my heroic charge push them to further feats of greatness.

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