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>> No.54706141 [View]
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54706141

>>54706125

>> No.54099011 [View]
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>>54098991
Because people think with their dicks, and sex/cute sells.

>> No.50971454 [View]
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>>50971393

>> No.50277884 [View]

>>50245885
Fucking this. You got it down perfectly. Sisters of Battle aren't just religious - a lot of people in 40k are religious. They are zealots. One of the most central pieces of their lore is how they served a horrible human being and took on several other factions at his command, just because they thought he spoke with the word of the Emperor. Not because they agreed with what he said, or thought he was a cool guy, or even that they didn't know he was going raving mad.

Literally everything they do, they do for the Emperor. Nothing is is without piety or attention to doctrine. They would save a dying guardsman, but only so that he could continue to serve in the Emperor's name. They would also willingly turn their bolters on anyone accused of being a heretic by an official of the Ecclesiarchy, or just so obviously a heretic they don't even need to bother asking, like the Flesh Tearers, or that apostate that didn't properly make the Aquila just because he was tired from a 26 hour shift.

>> No.49661661 [View]
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>>49661145
It looks like you've already cleansed yourself of punctuation. Well done, Sister.

>> No.46346921 [View]
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>>46346913
faith unyielding

>> No.44593814 [View]
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>>44593628
I figured the chainblade was attached because the armor powered it or something - lore doesn't really get into that kind of stuff, but Space Marines do it too, right? Using headcanon to bridge the gaps.

It doesn't help that fanart is fairly confusing - I know it's fanart, but when I have little else to go off of, it's hard to ignore that a lot of it includes powerpacks. I think I like your headcanon the best, though I wouldn't necessarily mind them using power armor behind the lines if they were worried about sudden attacks, or weren't far enough from the front - sort of a field hospital.

No talking about naked hospitallers, anon - we are going to make this a nice thread. I agree with you on the heels subject in general, though I'd argue with how good the Sisters armor is overall, I can live with boobplate or heels, especially as long as they aren't stupid stilettos and are more like oddly raised boots.

>> No.39411280 [View]
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39411280

there is only one fallen sister. And that is final.

>> No.30828786 [View]
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>> No.30156550 [View]
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>>30156531

>> No.28665088 [View]
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>> No.25165929 [View]
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>>25165744
>>25165720
>>25165680
well its a start

>> No.24901945 [View]
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>>24898256
Bring it, bitch.

>> No.23081502 [View]
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>>23081495

>> No.23049243 [View]
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>>23049227
thats it for now from me.

>> No.22739026 [View]
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>>22739016

>> No.22205085 [View]
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>>22205016

>> No.20777664 [View]
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20777664

Sisters thread?

Sisters thread.

>> No.20084848 [View]
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20084848

>>20084843
Only an hour into their trek she felt on the verge of collapse. Perhaps free of the cumbersome armour she might move more easily. The cold would not allow her to do so, but her body would not allow her to go on in the state she was in.

The Space Wolf saw her trouble, and called a halt.

He came upon her, brushed the snow from her shoulders, found the latch that held her armour closed and opened it. The chest plate fell open in his hand. Her pauldrons and gauntlets slipped free, leaving her shivering in the wind. Clad only in a thick wool tunic and her armoured legs. He took the pelt from his shoulders and draped it about her, then produced a length of rope. He tied her armour up, swung it over his shoulder, and returned to the march, his long stride cutting a path for her through the snow.

She moved a little easier, but had to hug the heavy pelt close to keep the chill away. It stank, but foul smells did not bother her, indeed there was something reassuring in that musky scent. It was as good as a roaring fireplace, lying beside it on a thick fur blanket, basking in the warmth of the flame. Following after the Space Wolf was an easy task, the sight of his broad back just ahead with her armour clattering on his calves. Her stride lengthened.

If a pagan could do this so could she. The Emperor gave her strength, a strength the wolf worshipper could not match. Before long she was marching beside him, legs and chest burning with the fire of the Emperor. She thought she could hear songs, the canticles of faith taught to her as a child. She began to sing them, the voices of her sisters joining her from beyond death. The snow fell about them, swirled up from the cutting wind. It took the shape of armoured women and they marched either side of her. Familiar smiling faces, voices raised in song, ready to fight their first real war.

>> No.19495513 [View]
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19495513

>> No.19250465 [View]
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19250465

I'm rather fond of pic related.

Less silly pauldrons than the Space Marines.

>> No.16087103 [View]
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16087103

>>16087080

Not wearing, but I also have this one.

>> No.13689947 [View]
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>> No.13517517 [View]
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