Catherine the Pariah

So, you probably heard of "Lolicron", right? If not, here's a place to acculturate yourself: Lolicron.

But memes aside, this page's aim is to make this nice little necron girl into a character more appropriate of the WH40k Grimdark, giving her a disturbing and more realistic story and also some rules that will be later put in the Codex - Necrons: /tg/'s 9th Edition (spoiler).

Enjoy

Her story

Catherine's story begins on a human colony planet named Bathur in the Eastern Fringe where she and her family have to work fourteen hours a day mining for resources in the Silent Abyss located a couple of kilometers away from their Hive City. This peculiar cave, resembling an impact crater spanning roughly 10 kilometers in radius, is rich in minerals of all kind and in the lower levels presents signs of strange buried architecture and broken corridors that extend even further in the planet's crust. Because of this, the area is frequently raided for its relics and goods, and Catherine and her family are forced to scavenge only the outer layers or risk going against gang members or other violent individuals; despite this, their imperial supervisors don't care too much about their conditions and only really care about the materials extracted which are to be used to support the war against a mechanical xeno race happening a couple of sectors away, and so forcefully push them deeper into the earth's mouth with the use of violence and retaliation fire. Because of her age, barely scratching the 11 years, and her consequent weak physique, these trips down in the dark take a heavy toll on her already frail health and she frequently gets sick and vomits blood after each expedition. One day, in yet another deep dive, this time in one of the corridors of the abandoned underground complex, she loses her father in the sudden attack of a slithering metal beast that dragged the man screaming deeper into the darkness. But the big turn of events happens later the same month when the black cubical spire surfacing at the center of the crater begins to emit a dim crackling glow and the ground all around the Silent Abyss and Hive City starts to shake and crumble apart. Swarms of little silvery machines invade the entire mine and kill anyone they encounter while humanoid androids erupt from the earth and march forward under the dark green sky. Catherine and her mother try to hide into an alley of the city, but at last, they are found by a tall metallic silhouette sporting one glowing green eye in the middle of its head. Her mother tries to fight back by waving a broken pipe against the creature, but everything proves useless; without much effort, the figure grabs the blunt object and with a small blow of its hand, throws the woman at the wall and she begins to dust away. Catherine was sure she would be the next and so curled up screaming and crying in the furthest corner of that dead end. But her fate was not over still, unfortunately for her, she was in possession of a rare gene, the Pariah gene, still unmanifested and suffocated by her flesh form; that was her curse. The metal man kneeled down before her and lifted one of her arms so she could see his face, then lend his other hand forward and incited the little girl to follow him.

Deep inside the dead citadel, inside a dark room most hidden from the light, Catherine's screams echoed back into the surface. Under the Cryptek's masterful hands she was being reborn, stripped of everything that was holding her full potential back. She was given a new purpose and a body worthy of her rarity. She was now a Necron Pariah, one of a kind, and her destiny was now complete.

Writefaggotry

The Awakening

<Catherine.> called a voice in the room. <Catherine, it is time. Wake up.> Its tone was robotic and it spread quickly inside the empty room. It felt familiar, but she could not understand why.

<Catherine, tell me. What do you feel?> It talked again. There was a sort of warmth to the voice, but it retained its sharp edges, as if warning her to not come any closer.

Somehow, she felt almost forced to respond: <Cold...> She could barely sense the tips of her fingers- her entire body felt like it was missing somehow. And yet it was still there.

<Good. What else do you feel?>

She wasn't sure of what to answer. She tried to move her legs but they didn't respond. The same issue was happening with her arms. She struggled briefly, only to find she was completely immobile- defenceless.

<Don't attempt to move. Simply tell me. What else do you feel?> At this, Catherine almost said she was scared- until she realized she wasn't. She wasn't really feeling... anything. The various emotional reactions that should have been flowing through her now seemed muted- not gone, but a bare fragment of what they were. She remembered his initial query, and put her thoughts aside.

All around her, she felt a tender flow move through the air. She wasn't sure what it was, but once she noticed it, it quickly vanished, leaving her to wonder.

<Nothing.>

<Good.> The voice chuckled. Despite this, it sounded sombre- as if it did not enjoy this. She wasn't expecting that. <Hopefully you'll do well enough.>

<Well enough for what?>

There was silence for a moment. <You shall see soon enough. Now, go ahead and try to move. I've restored your motor functions, but there may be fine-tuning required.>

<Restored my...?> Catherine attempted to move her arms, and could now do so easily- it was as if she had never had any trouble with moving it in the first place. Though, despite the darkness in the room, she could tell something was very different with her arms. They looked as if they were covered in a dark carapace of some kind.

She sat up, seeing the rest of her body covered. Oddly enough, she still couldn't feel much save for at the extremities. <Did you... did you give me armor? Am I going to be a warrior?>

<...Not quite, dear.> The voice almost sounded sorry, now. <It will be best understood at the mirror.> She saw a sheen of light in the corner of the room- the mirror, she assumed. She took note of the rest of the room too, now that she could look around freely.

She had been sitting on a metal slab- with a depression left for her body, it seemed. Various cords connected to the slab, and the whole area seemed to glow a dim green. There was no windows or holes in the walls to let light in, so she temporarily wondered how everything seemed to have that green tint. She also spied an odd-looking spear leaning next to the slab she was on, glowing an even brighter green. <Is this mine?>

<Ah, that is your Warscythe. We can get to that later, first come to the->

But Catherine was already on her feet, grabbing the spear with both hands. She swung it a few time, initially slightly puzzled by its lightness, then instinctively strapped it to her back armour, as if it were a practiced motion.

<The mirror.> The voice seemed to have lost some of its patience at this point. <Now. It is important to see if you can pass this trial.> Catherine obeyed quickly now. The only sound was the distinctive *clank* of her boots as they reverberated on the floor.

She stopped in front of the mirror to gaze at herself. <What do you see?> inquired the voice.

If she wasn't a warrior now, Catherine thought, she sure could now at least look the part. The armor looked imposing, scarier than any ganger she'd ever seen. The mask was simple, almost like a caricature of a skull stretched vertically like rubber- but possibly the scariest part of all. If she had always looked like this, life would have been a fair bit easier for her family- no one would have messed with them while mining deeper down. Despite this, she did not feel happy about the armour, or the weapon. Still, she realized, such little feelings. Maybe it was shock?

No, she suddenly realized. There were other things wrong as well. <...How am I so tall?> It was almost as if she had a body the size of an adult somehow. She continued to address the voice: <And why can't I feel anything under this armour?>

Silence; then a slow drawn out sigh. <It's not armour.>

She stared in the mirror, not quite understanding. And then she did.

Her emotions- mainly shock, panic and horror- seemed to explode from nowhere as she attempted to rip her shoulderplates and pauldron off. The voice was saying something, beseeching her to stop. She wasn't listening. With a final sickening sound of wires disconnecting and metal being warped, her pauldron and surrounding plates were violently removed from her body, crashing against the opposite wall. She looked at what was left at the shoulder, hoping she would find a regular, human joint with skin, with flesh and blood underneath-

There was no such arm. All that remained was a hunk of metal in the shape of a ball and socket joint. <oh god, oh god, oh god->

<Enough! Pariah, I command you to- > but Catherine wasn't listening. She was screaming now, attempting to rip the mask on her head off her head. She knew it had to be a mask, there was no possible way this could be real. Oh, by the Emperor, this couldn't be happening- it had to have been a cruel joke-

At this point, she was violently slammed to the ground, her arms pinned down and her Warscythe removed by an unseen assailant. She attempted to twist her head away from the mirror, but a second assailant held her head down to force her gaze. <This facade will cease now.> The voice, some distant part of her said, was emanating from the one forcing her to look. He looked similar to how she did- grey armour, a horrifying mask... but there was a difference- he had only one large eye occupying the majority of his face. He was familiar... <You are under my command now. And it will be this way now and forever more.>

Catherine recognized him now- the thing, that killed her mother, that took her to be tortured... she let out one final scream before the Cryptek dragged her away.

wip

Rules

9th Edition Rules

This unit contains 1 Catherine the Pariah (Power Rating: 3). Only one of this model may be included in your army.

Name	M	WS	BS	S	T	W	A	Ld	Sv	Pts/model
Catherine the Pariah	5"	2+	5+	4	4	2	3	10	4+	60

Wargear:

-Scything Claws

Weapon	Range	Type	S	AP	D	Abilities
Scything Claws	Melee	Melee	User	-3	1	Each time you make a wound roll with this weapon, you can re-roll the result. Each time an attack is made with this weapon, make 2 hit rolls instead of 1.

Special Rules: <tabs> <tab name="Command Protocols"> See Codex - Necrons </tab> <tab name="Pariah Gene (Aura)"> This model can never be targeted or affected by psychic powers in any way. In addition, enemy PSYKERS must subtract 2 from Psychic tests and Deny the witch tests they take for each unit with this ability that is within 18" of them. </tab> <tab name="Scientific Abomination"> This model can never be your Warlord or have a Warlord Trait. </tab> <tab name="Screaching Cry (Aura)"> Enemy units cannot fire Overwatch at this model. In addition, enemy units within 6" of this model must subtract 1 from their hit rolls. </tab> <tab name="Souless (Aura)"> Any enemy unit within 12" of this model counts as having a Leadership characteristic of 7 unless it would normally be less than that. </tab> <tab name="Superior Metal Skin"> Each time this unit loses a wound, roll a D6; on a 5+, the unit does not lose that wound. </tab> </tabs>

Keywords:

• Faction: Necrons
• HQ, Infantry, Catherine the Pariah, Character, Dynastic Agent