@robot-roadtrip-rants I walked right into this one didn't I (og post)
I have more receipts than a bargaining grandma on december 26th and here they are: (spoilers for 30k: The First Heretic, Know No Fear, Pharos, Lord of Ultramar, The Unremembered Empire and 40k: Gathering Storm III - Rise of the Primarch)
he has an inordinate amount of self-restraint and discipline:
1) he remained stoic when Lorgar punched him in front of the entire XVII legion: The blow came from nowhere. In its wake, the air rang with the echo of metal on metal, the clashing chime of a great cathedral bell. It was almost beautiful. A primarch lay in the dust, surrounded by his warriors. None present had ever witnessed such a thing. Argel Tal’s bolter was raised, aimed at the ranks of Ultramarines who mirrored the gesture in kind. A hundred gun barrels levelled at a hundred thousand. The Seventh Captain needed three attempts to form words. [...] ‘You will never mock me again, brother. Is that understood?’ Guilliman’s rise was slow, almost hesitant. The golden eagle on his breastplate was split, a valley-crack running through its body. [...] Guilliman was on his feet now. He turned an expressionless face back to his brother. ‘Is your tantrum concluded, Lorgar? I must return to the Crusade.' (The First Heretic, chapter 4)
2) he was fucking furious about the Night Lords attacking Sotha but he held back his rage in front of Dantioch to not scare/upset him: ‘Sit, Dantioch, report. Tell me what occurs at Sotha.’ The primarch’s face was regal as ever, but his voice was clotted with supressed emotion. Dantioch sank stiffly back into his chair, his neck craning so that he could look up at his commander. Guilliman had enough presence of mind, even in the depths of his fury, to notice the discomfort that caused him and took a step backwards. Polux felt a little easier at that. (Pharos, chapter 17)
3) he desperately wanted to run to Sotha to aid Dantioch and the insurmountably outnumbered Ultramarines. Polux objected, reasoning with him and Guilliman had to acquiesce, because he knew it was the best course of action tactically: ‘My lord, you cannot!’ said Polux. ‘Your concern is noted, but do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do, Polux.’ A babble of conflicting voices filled the shell of the Chapel of Memorial. Dantioch shouted. ‘Peace!’ He had to do so twice before the arguments subsided. ‘Peace, brothers! We cannot bicker among ourselves while the traitors are at the gate! Polux is correct, Lord Guilliman. To bring you here alone or with a handful of your men, what will that achieve? We have a slender chance of breaking out traded for the near certainty of your loss. The loyalist war effort would be dealt a terrible blow, from which it will never recover. We cannot afford the risk.’ ‘I am a primarch,’ said Guilliman. ‘You are one primarch, against thousands of legionaries. You say the lord Lion is not present, and you, my lord, would not countenance risking the emperor in this venture.’ Guilliman breathed in heavily. ‘No. You are correct. I would not.’ (Pharos, chapter 17)
4) when he got resurrected in M41, his literal worst nightmare was reality. but he knew he couldn't let anyone see the depth of his anger, fear and despair - he knew that if the Empire is to have any future, it hinges on him and his composure: Roboute Guilliman settled heavily into his new throne. The Primarch had dispatched all of his attendants and advisors, even sending his Honour Guard to wait outside the sanctum. At last he could allow a little of his sorrow, trauma and pain to show, and Guilliman let his mask drop with a sigh of relief. Whatever had been done to him to bring him back, it had left the Primarch with a constant, gnawing ache that radiated from deep within. He suspected that pain would never leave him. Physical hurts were the least of Guilliman’s troubles. One by one, the Primarch had spoken with each of the Celestinians, the lords of the Ultramarines, and even Yvraine of the Ynnari. Days had been spent in deep, earnest conversation, Guilliman using every iota of his statesman’s guile to set his guests at ease, to tease from them as much information as he could, and to hide his reactions to their words. Guilliman had thanked each of his visitors for their insights and their service to the Imperium, inwardly assessing each of his guests and showing them whatever aspect of his personality was surest to render them sympathetic and voluble. Though he had not shown it, each fresh revelation struck the Primarch like a cannon shell. He was exhausted from staving off bewilderment and horror, hollowed out by pain. Guilliman groaned and placed his head in his hands, his new suit of armour hissing and humming. (Gathering Storm III - Rise of the Primarch, chapter 2)
so he like. holds it together A LOT. until he doesn't
1) the first time he absolutely loses his marbles is when Lorgar betrays him and attacks Calth, one of the crown jewels of Ultramar, a realm Guilliman painstakingly built through his administration into something even Kharn of the World Eaters was envious/in awe of: ‘I will kill him. I will literally kill him. With my bare hands.’ He looks at Gage. ‘Don’t say anything, Marius,’ he says. ‘You’ll be transferring to the Mlatus to lead the attack. With a sober head and a proper plan. I know that going after the enemy flag has serious demerits, tactically. I don’t care. This is the one battle of my career I’m going to fight with my heart rather than my head. The bastard will die. The bastard.’ (Know No Fear, [mark: 01.57.42])
2) he proceded to say absolutely unhinged things to Lorgar when he got to talk to him: ‘We’re not going to debate it, you maggot, you treacherous bastard,’ says Guilliman. ‘I just wanted you to know that I will rip your living heart out. And I want to know why. Why? Why? If this is our puerile old feud, boiled to the surface, then you are the most pathetic soul in the cosmos. Pathetic. Our father should have left you out in the snow at birth. He should have fed you to Russ. You worm. You maggot.’ (Know No Fear, [mark: 01.57.42])
3) he chases his vengeance against Konrad after what he's done on Macragge. remember that scene where Captain America urges Tony Stark to not kill Bucky as he was a just victim of brainwashing, and Tony just says "I don't care. He killed my mom." ? Same vibes. Sometimes a line is crossed and no amount of reasoning can change it. ‘No. This is my fight, Sanguinius. Curze must be taught a lesson by me. It is my home he has invaded, my chapel he profaned, my… Euten. He threatened Euten.’ He became quiet a moment, thinking on Curze’s cruel rampage and how close he had come to losing the ageing chamberlain, the closest he had ever had to a mother figure. (Pharos, chapter 18)
4) when he learned that the beacon at Sotha was under attack (which potentially meant crippling any ability to communicate effectively across Ultramar, leaving it extremely vulnerable), he punched a wall: Guilliman’s face was purple with rage. They were siblings. As Sanguinius was capable of great rage, so was his brother. Guilliman might hide it under a calculating exterior, but they were all demigods, and had emotions of an intensity in accord with their stature. A primarch’s humours were as complex and unpredictable as an ocean, but few ever saw this side of Roboute. He paced back and forth across the room before the emperor’s throne three times, then strode to the wall and punched it with all his gene-forged might. The stone cracked, shards of it pattering to the floor, and powdered plaster sifted down after it. He leaned his head against the stone and let out a strangled noise.
but there he goes again with composing himself: When he stood again, he had regained some of his composure. ‘I am sorry, my lord.’ (Pharos, chapter 18)
and as for his idealism, it truly is staggering to me
1) he actually believed Big E meant them all to be capable administrators after the Crusade: Some of his brothers are content to be the instruments of crusade they have become. Some of them don’t even pause to consider that is what they are. Angron, Russ, Ferrus, Perturabo… They are just weapons, and have no ambition beyond being weapons. They know their place, like Russ, and are content to keep to it, or they have no idea that any other role might be possible or desirable, like Angron. Guilliman believes that none of them were made to be just weapons. No war is meant to last forever. The Emperor, his father, has not raised disposable sons. Why would he have gifted them with such talents if they were destined to become redundant when the war is done? (Know No Fear, [mark: -61.20.31])
"We are not destroyers, Marius, that isn't why my father created us. It can't be. It won't be." (Lord of Ultramar, chapter 1)
2) he believes Big E is too smart and cunning for allowing his sons to be scattered into the universe by accident, he thinks it was all part of Big E's master plan: No one really knew how this action had been accomplished, or by what, or for what reason. When pressed on the subject – and he could seldom be pressed on any subject – Guilliman’s blood father had attested that the abduction and scattering of the eighteen primarch offspring had been an action of the Ruinous Powers of the warp, an event designed to thwart the schemes of mankind. Guilliman did not place much faith in this. It smacked of foolishness to suggest that his blood father should be so naive as to be gulled by Chaos so. To have his genetically engineered heirs stolen and scattered in some bizarre diaspora? Nonsense. Guilliman believed that a great deal more deliberate purpose had been at the heart of it. He knew his gene-father. The man – and man was far too slight a word – possessed a mind that had conceived a universal plan, a plan that would take thousands or even millions of years to orchestrate and accomplish. The Emperor was the architect of a species. The primarchs were central to that ambition. The Emperor would not have lost them or permitted them to be stolen. Guilliman believed that his father had arranged or allowed the dispersal. (The Unremembered Empire, chapter 1)
3) if I got resurrected into a galaxy-wide mess, knowing I'm the only one who can fix it, I'd just off myself again. not Guilliman tho: Guilliman’s anger spilled over, and he span on his heel, staring up at the woven Emperor with accusing eyes. ‘Why do I still live,’ he snarled. ‘What more do you want from me? I gave everything I had to you, to them. Look what they’ve made of our dream. This bloated, rotting carcass of an empire is driven not by reason and hope but by fear, hate and ignorance. Better that we had all burned in the fires of Horus’ ambition than live to see this.’ Even as he said it, Guilliman heard the lie in his words. Amongst his brothers, none had been more idealistic than Roboute Guilliman. None had envisioned a brighter future, not just for Mankind but also for the warriors of the Legiones Astartes. That flame of hope had been a part of him for as long as he had lived. Even now, as it was smothered by darkness and woe, Guilliman realised that his flame endured. ‘There’s hope still,’ he told himself, turning back to the window and placing one armoured palm against it. He stared out at the work gangs, labouring to repair the damage of war, and the Ultramarines stood proud and determined upon the ramparts. They had been born into this dark millennium, and had known nothing but the hardship, suffering and despair of unending conflict. Yet still they struggled on unbowed, despite the countless enemies ranged against them. Guilliman had seen a better age, one of hope and triumph. What right had he, a superhuman son of the Emperor himself, to show any less strength and courage than his followers born in darkness? Guilliman had seen what Humanity could achieve. Moreover, he knew what fruits Cawl’s labours had borne beneath the surface of Mars. He believed that a better future for the Imperium was still possible. (Gathering Storm III - Rise of the Primarch, chapter 2)
hope these recepits are sufficient for supporting my claims.
