What type of yandere are they? Lucid, delusional, obsessive ect…
Obsessive but lucid. Lost in the sauce chase.
Not that you know its a chase.
He sees you, wild and free, and needs you to be running by his side, close to his side - it becomes a compulsion as strong as his need to move is. The need to have you is like a hunger of a sort, the kind of desire that is raw and primal but not necessarily sexual, more in the way thirst is, he just needs you.
His short stay taking over your planet stretches longer and longer.
Its a conflicted mess, where on one hand he doesn’t want to restrict your freedoms, and on the other hand he is a conquering warlord. He earned the title of Khan for a reason.
Is it really so bad a fate to be constrained to his side? He doesn’t like to think so, and that side slowly but surely wins out over time - he can only delay for so long.
Would they kidnap their darling, if so - how?
If he can’t win you over before he has to leave your planet? Yes.
He does try and woo you first, bringing you great prizes and following both local and his customs to entice you to his side but he’s not opposed to taking you as 'spoils of war'.
His sons are encouraging of this approach, and are excited to have you brought into the fold.
If you decline his advances and he has to take you it will be a public affair, as you’ll essentially be a boon ‘gifted’ by the planet as a part of Imperial take over rather than a lover courted to his side.
He’d have preferred sweeping you off your feet in acceptance and having you hold him tightly as he rides back towards his ship - but there’s plenty to enjoy with his hand holding you tied over his shoulder too.
How difficult is it to escape from them, and how do they deal with escape attempts?
Enjoys them. It’s a chase - and if you’re on a ship in the warp theres no where for you to really go. His sons have even been ordered to let you roam so he can enjoy hunting you down to wherever you’ve gotten yourself - with the exception of them corralling you away from dangerous areas.
If you’re both planet side he simply won’t leave until you’re found - and he guilts you with the punishment of everyone who stands between you and him.
There’s no punishment for you asides from being returned, he does understand your internal desire for the freedom of the winds can’t be quenched even if he keeps you for himself.
If you’re ever harmed in one of your attempts though? You’ll find his attitude can quickly shift.
Can they be tricked, deceived or manipulated?
Not really. He’ll deliberate on anything you bring to him request wise, but ultimately won’t be swayed from his decision.
He isn’t a yandere so blinded by love or obsession that he cannot see things for what they are and respond accordingly.
However, since he sort of indulges and allows you to try and escape, there is always chance for something unexpected to happen, or for you to have a stroke of luck that challenges him.
Even divine luck will not spare you from a primarch for long however...
What privileges do you have?
This depends on if you came willing or as a prize.
Willing spouse? More privileges, more ‘treats’, and more power within the legion too. You’ve accepted him, and so they’ve accepted you back.
Far more of a partner he is extremely obsessive and fussy over, with him observing more spousal rules and expecting you to do the same.
If you fought against him? Restricted more, settling in a sort of unique roll where you haven’t become a true part of the White Scars, but you’re not some ordinary or lowly concubine either.
Its a strange middle ground where you are his as a lover but not yet a partner, but this could change given time and acceptance. He does understand everything was a bit sudden and you may need time.
Escape attempts will add time onto how long it takes to get to the point of going willingly initially gets you, and settling in well decreases it.
What are their rules and subsequent punishments?
He’s a very lax, laissez-faire man, all things considered - especially compared to his brothers.
Not the punishing sort, he’s conquered you, you’re his, that’s the end of story.
Be bratty if you like, it amuses him to no end to see your fiery spirit.
However, if you manage to get really under his skin somehow in some special way he would be more inclined to a nsfw punishment….
How do they deal with rivals or jealousy?
He does in fact get jealous if you give others attention but not him.
You’re his. Act like it.
If he gets jealous he’ll get touchy, he always believed in actions over words. Pulled into his lap, brought by his side - others will see his claim on you one way or another and he’ll be glaring down anyone who doesn’t get the message.
He isn’t above making a clear example of anyone who doesn’t take that message to heart.
NSFW
How touchy do they get, do they have any reservations or respect?
Once again dependent on how you came with him - but ironically flipped.
If it was willing then he’s expectant of your affection and more free in giving it - after all, you came to him, you reciprocated even if it was a survival mechanism. You can expect him to have quite the wandering hand, as free and continual in motion as his spirit.
On the other hand, if you weren’t, then he actually wants you to acclimate to everything as so is far more initially reserved in order to give you the space needed to do so. His eyes will still wander though, but that’s par for the course.
Circling back to the potential ‘nsfw punishment’ hinted at earlier - it would have to be something special and most likely sexual to get under his skin.
Very much a ‘you get what’s coming to you’ in that case. If you want to escape him, that’s natural, you wanting to fight back etc is expected - but deliberately getting at him like that is a different story.
Reaping what you sow is exactly what happens, with endless teasing and denial until you’re begging to give him what he wants just so you can have your own release.
What are their biggest kinks/fetishes?
In terms of typical kinks, he also enjoys leather - but not in the traditional, ‘kinky’ sense, but seeing you wear his oversized leathers is a massive turn on for him, and quite unsurprisingly he’s also one for primal/chasing, loving when you get worked up for him so he can relish in the combined highs of chasing and your being chased.
Surprisingly, he enjoys shibari/‘decorative’ bondage, where you’re not just tied and restrained but you become art in a way.
As someone constantly moving, conquering and generally associated with speed it's the ultimate indulgence to slow down and spend his time on you - on securing each and every knot. Making extra and intentional lines, ensuring each and every rope has you perfectly held.
It’s almost a ritual in it’s own right, and the act of him caring for you never fails to make you feel special. He doesn’t have to do this to restrain you, simple ties or even his hands would do, but this time and effort is sacred to him in a way, and shows precisely how much he cares for you.
It helps how prettily you are presented for him afterwards.
You want to have some fun with him...flip the script. Run to make him catch you.
Picture this: the wedding was officially a diplomatic affair, but everyone knew it was his way of claiming the prize he wanted at bolter point.
So perhaps no one was that surprised when you disappeared as soon as the ship was underway. He only laughed and waited for a day "to give them enough of a head start." Then the hunt was on, tracking you through the ship.
He finally traced his quarry to an abandoned platform in one of the mechanical decks. He had to strip out of his armor to get up the ladder without breaking it. "Time to go..." for once he actually stopped moving. His prize had pitched a tent within the platform walls and was waiting, naked except for a thin blanket, on a bed of canvas big enough for both of you, eyeing him with barely disguised impatience. "I thought you'd be here faster?"
Author’s note: Day 8 of June of Doom! Masterlist here. I hope you enjoy~! Thank you to @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for allowing me to use her OC, Zariel
Warnings: lying, attempted manipulation, chemical restraints, attempted stolen identity, please ask me to tag something if I’ve missed it!
"What are you doing?" Melinth asked the younger marine. The two of them were in the restricted section of the medical inventory room.
Cedric smiled and answered with a sweet "I am just grabbing these pain killers, sir! My current patient is in need of some heavy duty pain relief and I came in here to grab him some."
The Imperial Fist shifted his stance a little, and sent a message to Cedric's vox as he answered out loud "I see. Which room is this patient of yours in? I was informed that someone was trying to access some restricted medication without using the proper credentials first. Have you forgotten the passcode to the dispenser?"
The younger marine shuffled a little, ducking his head and answered "I... Yes sir. I couldn't remember what it was, and the patient's in a lot of pain and the longer I wait, the more that they are going to suffer, so I just-"
Melinth slowly but steadily made his way closer to the other marine and raised a hand "Give me the medication bottle."
"But... But I just said-" The other protested.
"You are lying to me." The Imperial Fist pointed out, bluntly "We reset the code to this particular dispenser every shift at the beginning of the shift. Cedric would know the code, and it certainly hasn't been long enough that he would forget it. Two. I do not know who you are, but you aren't one of my younger brothers. Show me your true face, Alpha Legionnaire."
"Whaat? Me an Alpha Legionnaire? No, you're going senile in your old age, I am Cedric, really." Not-Cedric protested, trying to edge his way around him.
Cedric sent a vox-text, giving him the correct coded response.
Melinth's gaze hardens a little "Medication, now. And drop the disguise. Your disguise of him is incomplete and incorrect in a half dozen different ways that I spotted across the room, including the fact that you're a foot shorter than he is. If you came here because you or a fellow alpha legionnaire are in need of medical attention, then you need to follow protocol and bring the injured brother into the clinic for treatment. We do have an Alpha legionnaire apothecary on staff, if you'd rather be treated by an older brother."
"Don't you dare bring an older brother into this! They never make anything better. They ruin everything and cause us no end of suffering and misery!" The young hydra hissed, as he shape-shifted back into his true form. The other was favoring his left side, and was trembling ever so slightly.
"Is the medication for you, or is there a more injured brother of yours nearby, waiting for treatment? Tell me where he is, so that he can be properly treated." Melinth instructed, his voice stern and no-nonsense. He wasn't going to be playing games with injured marines, especially ais it was very likely that this one and however many brothers who came with him are either chaos, newly arrived on Ancient Terra, or both.
"How can I trust you?" The young hydra growled, leaning away from Melinth as the chief apothecary made his way closer to the other marine.
"If I wanted to, I would have dropped you before entering this room. You are conscious because I feel that it is more productive to speak with you." Melinth counters, raising an eyebrow at the young Marine. Surely the other hadn't thought that they didn't closely monitor this room? That they had seen Cedric's imperfect doppelganger and had him surreptitiously followed to see where he was going and what he was doing from the moment he came onto the base?
"So you're threatening me? I should have known that this was some sort of grox-shit trap. But you won't catch me, you corpse-worshipping bastard! I'm going to-" The young marine tried to lunge around him.
The Imperial Fist sighs, catching the hydra by the scruff of his shirt, pinning him to the reinforced cabinet and with his free hand, pulls out a pre-filled syringe and injects it into the side of the other's neck, holding him firm, despite the panicked thrashing "You really should have asked for help at the front desk. You'll still get the medical attention that you clearly need, we just have to be much more strict about this because of your attempted deceit. And, because you are chaos marine, there is a good chance you'lll be transferred to Rotbone base for continued treatment, depending on just how badly injured you are."
"No! No no no, please don't sell me to other Chaos marines! You... You're not so cruel as to do that to me, would you? I/... I am a young marine... Scout aged... Please, sir... Have mercy on me. I'm scared and hurt and-" The other goes completely limp as the sedative takes effect.
Melinth rolls his eyes at the young marine's dramatics. Honestly. As if he would ever sell anothe rmarine to someone else. While he had no desire to find out the depths of the depravities that chaos marines had gotten up to, suchthings were deeply illegal here on Ancient Terra and carefully enforced to his knowledge. The mortal governments had outlawed slavery in this time period which-
Yes, he could see why they had. The truth of the matter was a bit more complicated. when it came to how some countries ran their penal systems in regards to whether or not they actually fully outlawed slavery, or simply called it something else to assuage the populace. Criminal slave labor was still slave labor, no matter how you dressed it up as penance, or serving the community that they hurt, or a dozen other different kinds of nonsense that was touted. If one wanted to reform criminals, there were several different effective methods of doing so. And, unlike his cousins among the Iron Hands (and Iron Warriors) servitorization did not count in his opinion, as the original mind of the servitorized being was no longer intact.
"Zariel, there's an unconscious baby snake in the restricted medical resource room, please come get him. I suspect that he is injured, or he may have decided to fake an injury for an attempt at a sympathy play. Either way, he's unconscious now and should be for the next hour or so, unless he's an unusually small primaris marine." Melinth reported, looking the younger marine over "He claims to be scout aged - again that is definitely possible, given the way that he looks unconscious, but I am aware that there are a number of cosmetic surgeries that can be done to alter the looks of someone to give a more youthful or an older appearance than they really are."
Zariel sighs and answers "Thank you for the update, I am on my way." He was tempted to use his standard denial of being an alpha legionnaire, but from the flatness of Melinth's tone, the chief apothecary was in no mood for more hydra related shenanigans at the moment "Thank you for restraining him in a way that does not further aggravate any injuries he might have."
"I do generally try to inflict as little damage as possible on others unless the situation calls for it. Luckily for this foolish serpent, violence was unnecessary." Melinth answers, checking the amount of medication in the bottle, as well as checking for signs of tampering of any kind, including giving the bottle a cautious sniff. There could be a dozen reasons why the young hydra decided to try and steal heavy duty medication, or attempt to steal medication and deliberately fail to do so in a way that -
Melinth stops that line of thinking before he can go into an overthinking spiral. Whatever the young hydra's plots and plans are, they are currently on hold, and he hadn't tampered with the bottle, nor taken any, so the Imperial Fist carefully put the bottle that the other had tried to steal back in it's proper spot. A sigh left him and he contacted maintenance, informing them that there was a door and a lock in need of fixing in the restricted medical supplies room. This brat was trouble.
(If I accidentally left anyone out feel free to jump in or tag them!)
Seated at the big table in her outdoor kitchen Rose looked up from the essay she was proofreading, taking in at the group of scouts and one niece sudiously writing or typing. Mirak had decided co-opt Tristian along to get his first draft of the essay for their nightclass proofread while Kara worked on her enterance essay for her application to medical radiology techician program. Rose hadn't comented when two of the other primaris scouts in the night class, Rolf and Ian Holt had joined them to write and engage in proofreading. Primaris scouts never went anywhere in groups of less than two or three if they could at all help it. Honestly she wouldn't be surprised if some of the Cryptid Scouts had come out of the woods to stay close, or if any of the scouts from base came to join them.
Rolf looked down nervously at the red pen editing marks on his paper. "I'm terribly sorry for my error mamzel err Lady Beauchamp. I won't repeat it."
Rose gently laid her hand on his remaining arm in reasurance speaking in high gothic. "Easy, the point of the assignment on your rubric is to turn in a polished first draft. You're doing mostly alright. It's mainly the English homophones that a catching you up. Remember t-h-e-r-e, refers to location, t-h-e-i-r is the third person plural possive pronoun, and t-h-e-y-apostrophe-r-e is a contraction of they are." Rose smiled encouragingly. "Their, There and They're are something native English speakers struggle with."
She might have said more but the noises of the forest trailed off into nothing.
Lullaby glances to the honestly impressive fuck off gun, and flinches slightly.
Images they'd rather not imagine flit across their mind, namely every Chaos or Renegade aligned Marine they know and love getting holes blown or stabbed through them by this so called King, and them being powerless to stop it.
But they've got a chance. He hasn't ripped into Khopesh or Mirak, Yet. He's even given the benefit of providing answers as to why Tristan has spoken up for them.
So you speak.
"You wanna know why a Nightlord saved Tristan? Because that's how things work around here." The Baseline says, words clipped but firm.
"Dr. Rose means it when she says All types of Marines are here. They live, they love, they coexist." Lullaby declares. "Because Everyone from the most rabid bloodthirsty follower of Khorne to the most Zealous Imperial Loyalist knows if they Start shit it will reduce Terra to ashes and wastes."
Lullaby stands straighter. "Khopesh is from the Time of the Great Crusade. Mirak from not long after, relatively, anyway. And he's pre-heresy. Use that as justification of them being 'Different' if you must." The psycher grunts. "There is No Imperium. No other worlds. No space travel to take us beyond our own solar system. There's not even an Emperor or if he's here he's not made himself known and Nobody has found his ass yet."
"There's us. This world. And the clunky, cluttered weird tenuous arrangement that keeps Everyone physically alive and able to actually Live for once in their misbegotten existences that You and Your Father forced them into!"
The atmosphere is heating, sparks are ticking and clicking, the dome feels like the air is becoming wavy and painful. Lullaby continues bearing their proverbial fangs. Their mouth feels like they imagine biting down onto electrically charged gold would.
"You're here now. And I don't know what you faced before you arrived but honestly it doesn't really matter." They stand in front of the two Nightlords.
"A Loyalist nearly killed Tristan and Has killed other Primaris. A Nightlord saved him. And I owe my life to Multiple Chaos Marines because a Custodes decided it didn't want to bond with me and would rather leave me dead on the ground from a broken neck. Which it did Not need to do to accomplish it's goal by the way." Lullaby states darkly.
"Also you're bonded. That's why you feel so protective over Rudy. Congratulations~" Lullaby huffs with a sarcastic flourish of their hands. "If you want more details on how bonds work I'm happy to explain them. I'm...somewhat of an expert."
Lion makes a sound that's half a laugh and half a huff. "I found myself once already in an era where the Imperium was effectively dead, at least in the regions beyond the great rift. I killed threats to the people before the Emperor ever came to find me, and when I woke up on worlds long separated from Terra. My purpose is to kill whatever threatens humanity." That last line comes out with a light growl. "But I will listen before targeting anyone. I know some of my sons have taken up certain actions in my name before without my approval. Now tell me about this loyalist who tried to kill Tristan." The final sentence is delivered in a perfectly calm tone. He's trying to tone down the intimidation factor. He's not very good at it. Mostly because he's not really doing anything so much as kind of existing at them.
None of this is leaving any doubt that he's highly dangerous and perfectly willing to follow through on his threat. But the way his aura flickers around the grey in his hair and the lines across his face carries a light sense of...regret?
Chilling as the primarch's words words were, Rose understood. She recognized her own ruthless protective streak over the ones she loved taken to it's ultimate conclusion in unmitigated act, then magnified to cover the entire species. And if moving forward with the stack of official pamphlets, not the ones she'd scribble translations on as she was learning Gothic, put her between Lion and Lullaby, Kara, Mirak and Kopesh? Well she was who she was after all. She gave Lullaby's shoulder a squeeze of solidaridy as she manuvered past.
Rolf was ahead of her though. Physicaly as well as metaphoricaly. Ian too moving protectivly at her side. Probably to grab her incase she did something precipitious.
The one armed Black Templar Scout's grin was visciously beatific. "The Brudder-Murdering Traitor Bastard Petras was excounicated from the chapter on Terra and beaten mostly to death for his crimes by Grandmaster Lord Sigismund, Lord El'Johnson. The discovery of the killing field where Tristan dug himself out of what the fucker intend to be his grave has postponed his death sentence since there was obvious evidence of mutiple distinct modus operandi. I watched him be taken into Alliance custody for questioning for names of accomplices and locations of other mass graves." His voice took on a
"Near the midway point of the last century shortly after the first time humanity split the atom, the majority Factions of Astartes Formed an Alliance to enforce a cease fire and to protect the Terra and it's inhabitants, my lord." Ian gently took the stack of pamphlets from Rose and passed them up, and up, to the primarch. "My elder brothers have prepared a series explanatory pamphlets on behalf of the alliance for comers for new arrivals while waiting for a welcoming committee to provide a more detailed briefing."
Lion took the pamphlets, squeezing Tristan so hard it was surprising he didn’t break. Only relaxing his hold when Tristan made a pained noise.
“Sigismund is here? Good. Rogal’s First Captain is quite the asset.” Lion took a deep breath, holding out his sword to Rolf, followed by his gun. “This sounds like the sort of headache I do not want to be armed for.” Clearly the Primarch was beyond furious, but trying to keep himself from acting rashly.
“Who is doing the interrogation? Would they need a hand?” Lion continued, as Tristan explained how the Night Lords had found him, and helped him out of the pit. Taken him to the clinic. And how Mirak had taken him under his wing.
From the sheer loathing in Lion’s voice at the mention of Petras, he might have found a new Most Hated Astartes.
Having turned over his weapons, Lion started scanning the pamphlets. Looking like he was absorbing the whole contents extremely quickly.
“Why was that fatherless savage Petras trying to kill loyal Astartes?” He asked softly while reading.
"Because they couldn't handle the fear of being replaced." Lullaby remarks dryly, now decidedly more calm. "I'm sure you can see the visible difference between say... Mirak and Khopesh's heights and those of Rolf, Tristan and Ian. This isn't just because of variance in Astarte Production."
"I don't know the exact timelines. I probably can't even comprehend them. But I do know this." Lulls explains. "The Primarch of the Ultramarines woke up, saw the State of the Imperium and went Fuck! We need more soldiers and we need them Faster and Bigger! And I'm sure he said it Exactly that way."
Despite the tension Khopesh laughs, though he also tries to stifle it. Mirak's shoulders shake as he tries to contain his, because Khopesh laughing is making him want to as well.
"And the First Borns, had every conceivable reaction from 'Oh yeah that's helpful, welcome to the fight little big brothers' To 'We think you're secret enemies so we will haze you into oblivion and use you like meat shields and just Generally make your existence a living hell until you die.'" Lullaby crosses their arms tightly. "Of course I firmly believe they were just jealous and paranoid and projected those feelings onto the Primaris. In Petra's case there was the Added issue that he's ah...getting high on something he really Really shouldn't have touched."
Lion raises an eyebrow and it's actually Khopesh who chimes in.
"He's been drinking on that Dark Prince ichor Slanneshi's like to go on about. Likely didn't help his already sadistic tendencies." Khopesh makes a bleh face. "Nasty fucker with nasty blood. Tasted like insects and burnt sugar. Glad I didn't swallow any when I ripped into him with me teeth."
Lullaby turns to him, and gently holds his hand. "As am I." They say softly.
They do Not like the idea of Khopesh getting addicted to something like that.
"I am quite sure there were far more discussions of theoreticals and practicals involved than that." Lion raises one eyebrow. "Guilliman always tended to assume that everyone else saw things the way he did."
Elsewhere, at Stone Flame base, Kerubiel and Belus are frantically trying to clean up their armor, quintuple-checking their weapons, and otherwise generally attempting to look like good scouts.
Lion looked frankly a little impressed as he turned his attention to Lullaby. “You remind me of Roboute’s mother. Lady Euten was absolutely terrifying. She actually told Konrad to go to Hell, right to his face.”
He straightened a little. “I will require more information on this Alliance”
Putting the pamphlets down, Lion then turned to Rudy. “Have you been informed of these bonds? What is your opinion?” Lion did sound a little awkward. Like he wasn’t quite sure what to say.
+++++
Meanwhile, Sigismund, now in full armor and regalia, mput a hand on Sevatar’s shoulder. “Try not to cause too much trouble while I’m gone, Jago.”
Before Sevatar could answer, Altani piped up with a wicked grin. “Don’t worry, Siege-dad, I will watch him.”
Sigismund laughed and pet Altani’s head. “Don’t forget to have some fun yourself. Alastor will be here to help.”
Much as he would have wanted to bring his Jago along, he had to admit them meeting again would be one complication Terra could do without.
Lullaby actually snorts at that mother comment. "I Too would like to tell Curze to go fuck himself. So I'll take that as a compliment."
"As for the Alliance it's simple in theory more complicated in practice. There's a Governing Tribunal of different Chapter Masters elected specifically from those Astartes who have survived their arrival here. Sad to say we do occasionally have those who have already passed be found." A sad look passes over Lullaby's face but they continue. "Sorry back on topic. it's those Chapter Masters plus some their advisors who've slowly constructed the Rules of Governing for how Astartes are to behave here."
"Rule 1 - Do not start a war. There are too few resources, and too little space to do that. We don't have to like each other but we will need to exist around each other to make sure we don't accidentally delete humanity. If you've got issues take it to the Ring or the Arbites."
Their thoughts drifted back to their Chaos and Renegade family members again. Not to mention their Loyalist Marines. The thought of them butchering eachother and Terra burning...they shiver.
Khopesh leans on them, offering support, which pulls them out of their brief spiraling.
"Ahem. Ah Rule 2 - No telling humans about all the mess that happens in the future and no telling them how to make the technology we eventually use to blow eachother up...as you might guess this rule is Much more difficult to enforce than rule 1. Granted I know more because I'm allowed to, given the duties I perform for the Alliance."
"And cardinal Rule Number 3 - Abuse of Baseline Humans forbidden outright and Killing of Baseline humans is Strictly forbidden unless in extenuating circumstances. As any human is or has the potential to become bonded. Marines who break this cardinal rule face immediate judgment by the Alliance and in cases where extenuating circumstances are not present may be sentenced to execution via either their own Chapter's methods Or..." They glance to Khopesh who's grin has widened to a bloodthirsty edge. Mirak sports a similar look. "By those of The Imperium's Eighth Legion, The Nightlords."
Lion’s face takes on an expression that looks like an impressive mixture of alarmed and sheepish. “It…was a compliment? I have thought that more of us should have had a mother like Lady Euten, or a mother at all.” Unwittingly echoing Konrad himself upon a time.
He sighs. “Last time I saw Konrad, was horrifying. He was falling apart. Not just mentally, but I swear he was starting to forget human shape. What happened to him? He hasn’t been here, has he?” The Primarch looks around as if he is expecting Konrad to pop out of the vents. Not that this house has any.
Lion looks down at the pamphlet for a moment. “Noted. I don’t start wars. I end them. If humanity ceased to exist, the Imperium would as well, and with it us. Which sounds rather messy.”
Mirak speaks up. “That’s another charge against Petras. He tried to murder a bonded human because she defended her Marine against his accusations. She is still recovering from her injuries, last I heard.”
Indeed, Ruthven was another one Mirak kept an eye on. April had been released from the hospital, and the pair had chosen to stay on base. Where they would be better protected while April still struggled to regain full mobility. And Ruthven got started with therapy and Astartes strength anxiety medication. Which the extremely antisocial and depressed Raven Guard needed. Badly.
Lion shuddered. “Utterly horrifying. It’s enough to make me think your bastard of an uncle should have been locked in a room with Petras until he confessed to everything.” This last was directed at Mirak.
“The Eighth actually behaves? Just when I thought things couldn’t be more absurd.” Lion looked completely gobsmacked. Shaking his head in pure disbelief.
Rudy is meanwhile kind of trying to disappear against the wall - and mostly succeeding. There's rapid conversation going on in a language he doesn't understand, and the one with the night lord boyfriend is getting animated. His stomach growls softly and Lion's head immediately turns with a slightly concerned look.
A minute later there's a crash outside followed by muffled astartes cursing. Three primaris marines have landed tangled up in a bush and are working on extricating themselves. Keru mutters an apology for the misaimed teleport while frantically attempting to de-twig his armor.
Thankfully for the poor Primaris, Lion is preoccupied, though it might be possible to see the back of him through the window.
Lion picks up the soggy cloak, starting to rummage through the pockets it inexplicably seems to have. Before muttering something that sounds like curses, though not in Gothic. Some other language.
Dropping the cloak, he looks ar Rolf. “Please inform the lady of the house that Rudy seems to be hungry. I do not think he could stomach my rations. Would it be possible to get him some food?
(Primarchs can eat pretty much anything. Sand, daemons, sand daemons…)
Lullaby glances to the pockets and the rations therein. "I'd err on the side or caution. Even if they're not harmful Rations are an acquired taste for many baselines. I should know." They then turn to Rose. "Do we have something we can warm up for Mr. Rudy? Or...I guess we could also whip up a quick sandwich. I make a pleasant grilled cheese." They then gesture to Khopesh with their thumb. "And HE makes a killer one."
Khopesh chuckles, and waves his hand. "You flatter me."
"Is it really flattery if it's true?" They reply slyly. Then they ask Rudy. "Oh also do you have any allergies or sensitivities?"
It's then they hear the crash followed by...familiar cussing.
"Keru!" Lullaby moves quickly toward the door where the rain is still pelting down.
"Absolutly," Rose replied, "I've got some Egg Breakfast muffins I can heat up quickly, as well as plenty of sandwich fixings." She lookd at the Microwave clock, which read 4:30 "Or if you'd rather have something lighter to tide you over until supper I can fix up a plate with cheese, crackers, summer sausage and mustard pickled eggs. I keep them ready to go in the fridge most of the time. It really is no bother." She smiled wryly at him as she turnned on the coffee maker. "Water's just about ready if you want tea or cocoa. Coffee will be ready might be a bit."
Rose and Rudy had an excellent view of Kerubial's dramatic entrance. In fact Rose stood at just the right angle to see both Rudy's face and Kerubral's crash landing. He looked ashen. "Or something stronger." She guided him to one of the tall chairs breakfast bar on the kitchen island.
"Ian are you up to translating for Rudy? He needs a dedicated translator for what's going" Rose asked the young Ultramarine who'd moved to stuport her and Rudy while Mirak, Kopesh and Rolf took off after Lulaby.
***
Tristan didn't notice as he turned to look after the crash that the hood of his sweat shirt was sliding until it was off his head. Revealing some of the changes the Martians had Wrought to his geneseed and the light blocking glasses he needed spend time outside in the daylight without burning his retinas.
Rudy looks at the group. "Um, honestly muffins would be fine, if it's not an inconvenience. I always liked familiar food, you know? And I was going to have dinner whenever I got to the campground, fix a pot of hot coffee on the stove - I got a little gas unit in the van."
Outside, fortunately, the only damages Kerubiel and company appear to have suffered is wounded pride. There's a lot of muffled grumbling and swearing as they try to look like dignified warriors and not wet cats. They're not having a lot of success.
“Good. You do need to eat when you can.” Lion eyed Rudy. “Even if I have to go out and kill something.”
Still blissfully unaware of his hood having slipped, Tristan chuckled. “As far as I have been told, the wildlife here is nothing like on Caliban. It’s…normal?”
Whatever Lion was going to say, went straight out of the window when he spotted Tristan’s pale skin and goggles.
“How badly were you hurt?” Lion asked with surprising softness for such a looming presence. “You’re looking pale.”
Tristan’s eyes went extremely wide under the goggles, and he stared at Lion blankly, frantically trying to drag his hood back up. Lion didn’t really need to be a Primarch to hear how his heart was pounding.
Lion’s face crumbled in horror and heartbreak, as he started stroking Tristan’s cheek. “I’m not mad at you. Someone hurt you.”
The Primarch seemed quite awkward as he clumsily tried to comfort Tristan. Who kept trying to curl himself into a ball.
Mirak gently untangled himself from Kara. “Be right back. Khopesh, keep her safe for me?”
In no time at all, Mirak was kneeling in front of Tristan, gently telling him to listen to his breathing, try to match it.
It seemed to be news to Lion how to deal with a panic attack, but once he realized it was helping, he gave the matter his full attention
"Primaris have chimeric geneseed." Lullaby replies. The statement is simple, but the tone is...chilled, cold and somber. "Another...of your brother's ideas, not that it was necessarily a bad one on paper."
They offer the newly arrived Primaris towels. Had they the reach they'd be fixing their hair, and roughly scrub toweling the water off themselves but...they might not want to appear even More coddled in front of their Legion's founder.
...Despite that fact said founder had Literally picked up Tristan like that but they digress.
"Many little brothers have...attributes of different legions. But only a select few actually know what their blood is mixed of. And even less know the exact ratios." Khopesh supplies as well, plucking off a few missed twigs here and there. Keru and Belus are unamused by this but don't comment in the moment.
"Another fact used as justification to treat them poorly. Geneseed is a vital and limited resource after all. G-man must have run the numbers and determined that while he couldn't justify purely remaking the Legions that had turned against the Imperium, he could still utilize their genetic codes." Lullaby hums. "It resulted in what he wanted; bigger, stronger, Astartes. The variety of abilities is just a bonus...or it should have been."
"As if the Legions going south had to do with genetics rather than their Primarchs losing their minds and dragging the rest of their children down with them." Khopesh sighs. "I never Really cared all that much for the Imperium's grand ideals. I went where I was told. Spilled blood when I was commanded...and sometimes in my off time." He chuckles.
"Never met the bastard in person, but those who did say that despite the madness his will it was like...a force all its own. Encompassing and Irresistible. He could've told them to Don a clown suit and take a bath in live cave eels and they'd have done it even if they didn't want to." Khopesh hums. "And I...didn't fully believe it. Until I felt Your aura Lion, and saw how the others reacted to you."
"That fact didn't matter to your First Borns though. Didn't even matter that some Primaris had purely Loyalist Ratios." Lullaby said coldly. "They were treated like tools and meat walls they could pump drugs into and abuse as they saw fit."
"I snapped one of their forearms with my teeth and would've put the bastard down for good...If we hadn't been out numbered at that moment..." Khopesh huffed, pointed ears flicking down just slightly in disappointment.
Lion’s face turned stormy as he took in what Lullaby and Khopesh. His lips twisting into a snarl worthy of his namesake, even as he turned his face away from Tristan.
“I apologize in advance for swearing in the presence of a lady, but…” Apparently he meant Rose.
What followed was an absolutely filthy string of curses, mixing Gothic, Calibanite and Nostraman. Most of the things he suggested were physically impossible. Well, maybe a sufficiently pissed Primarch could.
Finally Lion took a deep breath. Patting Tristan’s hair. “Not you. I was referring to everyone who hurt my favorite squire.”
Still patting Tristan, he eyed Rudy. “Khopesh, was it, would you or Lullaby translate for Rudy? Tell him I got some very bad news about what my sons were up to, hence the outburst?”
Huh. Lion seemed to have actually learned that frightening his allies was not a good thing.
Keru and the others were probably confused that Lion was actually trying not to be an ass. Especially now he addressed them. “I know Roboute well enough to know he’s too straightforward to send spies to his own brothers. I will have words with my Firstborn sons about getting up to Konrad level nonsense while I was recovering. I don’t suppose Corswain is here?”
Asmodai would likely approve of the venom infused in the word “words”.
The smell of cheese, bacon and green onion dough rose covering a hard boiled egg rose to join the growing sent of coffee, tea, and cocoa as Rose opened the microwave door. "Careful they're hot," Rose warned as she set the plate down infront of Rudy.
She could see Rudy's tension begin to ratchet down as Ian begant to act as his translator thoughhe grew increasingly concerned Kopesh and Lullaby's statememts.
"No offense taken," Rose replied slightly wide eyed once Lion had finshed, "that was certainly news worth cursing over. "
As she spoke Keru, Del, and Belus moved cautiously toward their primarch. Only Belus paused to admonish Kara, far gone with the twins, to sit and get off her feet.
"Suppose I'll have to teach the big guy how to swear properly in a few languages. I can do english and french and one of my buddies taught me a few bad words in japanese too." Rudy comments. Somehow he seems slightly more relaxed after the outburst? Cussing made way more sense than formal court talk. He looks down and to the side at the explanation of why. "Some people get a gun and it turns them into a damn bastard. And you hope they get killed quick before they fuck up someone else's life who happened to be in range."
"Thank you Ma'am," hen added as Rose brought the plate over and carefully picked one of the biscuits up.
@nereidof40k @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @sleepyfan-blog @felinisnoctis @kit-williams @egrets-not-regrets @cunninglinguist-69 @bleedingichorhearts @legionsofthehungry @c-u-c-koo-4-40k
Summary: This is how Nirvikar ended up being sent to M3 Terra.
"This silence offends Slaanesh! Praises to them for this glorious hymn that I sing in their name!" Nirvikar thundered as the noise marine brought his sacred weapon-instrument up. He had spent decades crafting the base, mundane weapons he'd been given while he'd been a slave to the Imperium into the glorious weapon of sonic destruction. He had shaped the bolter into a violin, and one of his knives into the bow. He placed the bottom of the violin on his clavicle, resting his chin on the mounting, making sure his fingers were in their proper place.
He shifted his grip on his bow, dodging a charging corpse-worshipper with an elegant leap and slicing the poor fool's neck open with the sharpened blade-edge of the bow. A feral grin appeared on Nirvikar's face as he raised the bow and began to play a dirge of perfect destruction, dancing and singing around the battlefield. The perfectly discordant hymns empowered his brothers and cousins fighting for She Who Thirsts, and the Chaotic Notes paralyzed those who did not follow the Prince of Pleasure. Some started to scream in time to his music, while others bled from the eyes, ears, nose or mouth, their blood dripping out of their helmets as they fell to the ecstatic hymns that he played and sung into being.
He did not stop until the last enemy fell, and finished the final notes of the hymn with a perfect flourish, bowing to his brothers and cousins. "Thank you, one and all. I do hope that my performance met your expectations~!" Playing the psychic hymns were draining, and exhaustion pulled at him, but he would not choke and fail his wonderful audience at the end of his performance.
Several of his brothers rushed over, clapping and hollering, their voices melding into a lovely din that he could barely understand.
'That was truly inspired, brother!"
"How did you reach all of those notes? I hadn't realized that violins could make such a large range of notes."
"Could you teach me how to do that chaotic arpeggio? The one that stunned a half dozen loyalists within twenty feet of you, so that they could be more easily killed in Their name?"
Nirvikar grinned as he carefully started to clean and ensure that the strings of his combat violin were still well-tuned "With a great deal of practice, brother. Violins really are quite a versatile instrument. And I would be honored to show you how I did that arpeggio, brother. I found your chaotic chords that you played with your violent guitar to be inspired! I hadn't seen anyone create shockwaves like that before."
"I must say, I would like to hear you play in a more private setting - perhaps with a wooden violin?" A cousin called out, making his way through the group. A thousand sons sorcerer by the name of Ashra.
"Hmmm, I might be interested in doing so, though after a rest. Playing those hymns took a great deal of energy and focus." Nirvikar answered with a warm smile and a playful wink Ashra's way. Bovoli, who was the leader of their warband, had picked Ashra up on a moon near the edge of the Maelstrom. Apparently the sorcerer had been meditating and learning everything that could be learned on the moon's library - which had been a thing of beauty, if the nerds were to be believed. Nirvikar hadn't seen much appeal to the dusty tomes, but he did find the stained glass windows to be strikingly beautiful. The painted art had been of boring pastural landscapes, or long-dead mortals who likely did not deserve the accolades that they had been given posthumously.
"I'll hold you to that, brother. I hope you wouldn't mind if I asked you some questions about how you were able to craft this particular hymn to She Who Thirsts? The songs of destruction you wove and sung on the battlefield were something I've never seen before." Ashra asks, a hopeful expression appearing on his face "I'd love to hear more of how you'd come up with such a complex composition."
Bovoli was barking orders, and most of the rest of the group was scrounging supplies from the dead, or were hunting down the spacecraft that the corpse-worshippers had landed on this moon on. "Sure thing, brother. Let's walk and talk, so that we can avoid being grumbled at by our resident Iron Warlord."
The thousand son chuckles and nods "Far be it from be to antagonize our glorious leader. I think I saw a patch of rare mushrooms that can be distilled into an oil that can kill or incapacitate marines. I've got the proper collection materials for it, and would appreciate an extra set of eyes, as some of the plants out in the jungles here are very aggressive."
"How charmingly vexing. I'd be delighted to help you with your fungal foraging efforts." The Emperor's Child answered "Please, lead the way."
Ashra nods, smiling warmly and starting to head into the feral forest "This way, brother." He lightly set one of his hands on Nirvikar's elbow, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper as they left the area where the rest of their warband was searching for spoils of war "I must say... You are by far the best singer of the group, Nirvikar. Your command over sonic attacks is unparalleled. How do you manage it?"
The Emperor's Child preened at the praise and made sure to lower his voice so that it did not carry too far "When I entered Slaanesh's service, one of the first gifts they bestowed upon me was the melding of my helmet vox into my vocal chords. While it does mean that I'll never be able to remove my helmet, not fully, it also means that I can boost my voice to be much louder than other astartes are able to, and I can change the way my voice sounds from like this, to a more broadcast sounding sound like this, to this high and whispery sort of voice. It all depends on my focus, will and the muse I am searching for while in pursuit for perfection."
"That's truly remarkable. My own patron has given me a number of small gifts, though they are mainly minor shape-shifting abilities. For example, I can change the color of my eyes and hair with a bit of focus and energy." Ashra explains, turning and winking at Nirvikar, as his eyes shifted from black to green to a light blue. His hair color and texture changed several times as he spoke as well.
"I freely admit that I know little of biomancy, but I imagine that many quick changes is rather taxing?" Nirvikar answers and asks, tilting his head a little in fascination.
"It would be, were my connection to the warp be weak. But I'll let you in on a little secret - I am quite strong, which allows me a greater command over the disciplines of biomancy that would kill weaker psykers, or require several at once. For example, I can also sharpen my nails into claws, and even have them secrete poisons from their tips, as long as I know the full chemical make-up of said poisons. My body will synthesize the compounds and store them without causing harm to myself."
As Ashra spoke, Nirvikar felt something sharp and hard slice into the seam of his elbow, as it was a pot he'd taken quite a bit of damage, and there'd been a weakness in his armor. He took a half step back and said "Watch it, you managed to cut me."
"Oh I know. I did that on purpose." Ashra answers, stopping and turning to look at him steadily.
The arm that the Thousand Son had pierced was burning with an exquisite flame. He could feel the fingertips of that hand start to tingle and burn with pins and needles before going numb. Nirvikar stumbled backwards as he felt the agony and numbness spread up his arm and across his chest "Why? What did you do to me?" Breathing was starting to get difficult.
"Because you are a threat I do not have an easy counter for, so this is the solution I have come up with." Ashra answered, his voice and eyes cold.
"But... But we're part of the same warband? We have been for years, and I have never deliberately antagonized you." Nirvikar growled, betrayed and confused as he tried to stagger away from the deeply amused thousand son.
"You are not apart of my warband. My true warband, that is." Ashra purrs, smirking at him, closing the distance between the two of them and forcing Nirvikar to stop moving. "Now I wasn't lying when I said there were mushrooms that I wanted to collect. But... You see.. They require a very specific kind of food in order to grow properly, so you are the unlucky sacrifice."
The fucker was able to pick him up as his body went limp and his breathing went shallow. Nirvikar tried to scream or move, but his body didn't so much as twitch. Bastard!
Ashra chuckled, patting him on the side condescendingly as he walked deeper into the woods and setting him in a deep, pre-prepared hole that was ten feet deep, ten feet wide and twelve feet long. "If it makes you feel any better, your death will serve me and my brothers well."
With an insulting amount of care, the thousand son placed him into the pre-dug grave.
"I will, however, be keeping this battle instrument of yours. While I don't serve the whore-god of the galaxy, I am certain that I will be able to figure out some sort of use for these. The bow makes an excellent short range blade, and if nothing else... I am sure I can sell your instrument to another one of the slut-goddesses' followers for everything of value that they possess." The Thousand Son sneers as he carefully starts to fill the grave in, with Nirvikar still alive and paralyzed at the bottom of the hole.
"Oh and... Do try not to die too quickly. The mushroom spores will only grow to full potency if the host they are feeding off of lives for the first few years of their growth. It's remarkable how durable we astartes are, and as it's unlikely that you actually need to breathe... and with the suspended sleep that we are able to fall into... You are going to be an excellent source of food for these mushrooms for years, possibly even decades to come." Ashra purrs as he continued to fill in the grave.
All Nirvikar can do is scream in his mind as he feels the handfuls of dirt slowly begin to cover him. His breathing was still very shallow and frustratingly slow. Tears of fury and fear slid down his helmeted face. Surely he couldn't live for that long, trapped in the way that this fucker was implying? He gathered up his flagging psychic might and tried to force Ashra to stop, trying to attack the fucker with the force of his mind.
The bastard laughed and clapped his hands "Yes! Be furious! Struggle more against the inevitable, you are already starting to empower these spores." Ashra shook his head, and he dodged the psychic attack. The fucker taunted and monologed at him for what felt like days as he threw fistful after fistful of dirt and gods only knew what else onto him, working his way up from Nirvikar's toes to his head.
He had deliberately made sure as the earth began to press against him heavily that Nirvikar could still clearly see the bastard, using his own psychic strength to keep an opening available. "And would you like to know why I chose you? Because you were gullible and trusting. Because I knew that you had overtaxed your resources. Because I know that the warband I infiltrated resents and hates you, and would not care if you went missing. They find your hymns grating and your voice insufferable. Really, I am doing them a favor by getting rid of you."
That... That wasn't true! That couldn't possibly be true! Nirvikar had done his best to get along fairly well with the other members of his warband and was... Fairly sure he had succeeded? He did occasionally clash with others, but that was..> That was just what it was like to live around a band of brothers and cousins.
"Oh... And I plan on weakening this warband further, until they can be picked off one by one. By other warbands, by the corpse worshippers. I t matters not to me, just that you and the others suffer for my plans. Hydra dominatus." Ashra, or whoever the hell he really was smirked "I am alpharius, and you. You were simply a pawn in one of my many games."
The Hydra's smug face was the last thing that Nirvikar saw, as his body was trapped by earth and paralytic poison as he desperately tried to overcome it, to avoid falling into the deepest depths of despair where Nurgle lurked, waiting to embrace him. He could not say how long he was trapped there until exhaustion and numbness of the mind overtook him, and Nirvikar fell into a deep, unhappy slumber.
(If I accidentally left anyone out feel free to jump in or tag them!)
Seated at the big table in her outdoor kitchen Rose looked up from the essay she was proofreading, taking in at the group of scouts and one niece sudiously writing or typing. Mirak had decided co-opt Tristian along to get his first draft of the essay for their nightclass proofread while Kara worked on her enterance essay for her application to medical radiology techician program. Rose hadn't comented when two of the other primaris scouts in the night class, Rolf and Ian Holt had joined them to write and engage in proofreading. Primaris scouts never went anywhere in groups of less than two or three if they could at all help it. Honestly she wouldn't be surprised if some of the Cryptid Scouts had come out of the woods to stay close, or if any of the scouts from base came to join them.
Rolf looked down nervously at the red pen editing marks on his paper. "I'm terribly sorry for my error mamzel err Lady Beauchamp. I won't repeat it."
Rose gently laid her hand on his remaining arm in reasurance speaking in high gothic. "Easy, the point of the assignment on your rubric is to turn in a polished first draft. You're doing mostly alright. It's mainly the English homophones that a catching you up. Remember t-h-e-r-e, refers to location, t-h-e-i-r is the third person plural possive pronoun, and t-h-e-y-apostrophe-r-e is a contraction of they are." Rose smiled encouragingly. "Their, There and They're are something native English speakers struggle with."
She might have said more but the noises of the forest trailed off into nothing.
Lullaby glances to the honestly impressive fuck off gun, and flinches slightly.
Images they'd rather not imagine flit across their mind, namely every Chaos or Renegade aligned Marine they know and love getting holes blown or stabbed through them by this so called King, and them being powerless to stop it.
But they've got a chance. He hasn't ripped into Khopesh or Mirak, Yet. He's even given the benefit of providing answers as to why Tristan has spoken up for them.
So you speak.
"You wanna know why a Nightlord saved Tristan? Because that's how things work around here." The Baseline says, words clipped but firm.
"Dr. Rose means it when she says All types of Marines are here. They live, they love, they coexist." Lullaby declares. "Because Everyone from the most rabid bloodthirsty follower of Khorne to the most Zealous Imperial Loyalist knows if they Start shit it will reduce Terra to ashes and wastes."
Lullaby stands straighter. "Khopesh is from the Time of the Great Crusade. Mirak from not long after, relatively, anyway. And he's pre-heresy. Use that as justification of them being 'Different' if you must." The psycher grunts. "There is No Imperium. No other worlds. No space travel to take us beyond our own solar system. There's not even an Emperor or if he's here he's not made himself known and Nobody has found his ass yet."
"There's us. This world. And the clunky, cluttered weird tenuous arrangement that keeps Everyone physically alive and able to actually Live for once in their misbegotten existences that You and Your Father forced them into!"
The atmosphere is heating, sparks are ticking and clicking, the dome feels like the air is becoming wavy and painful. Lullaby continues bearing their proverbial fangs. Their mouth feels like they imagine biting down onto electrically charged gold would.
"You're here now. And I don't know what you faced before you arrived but honestly it doesn't really matter." They stand in front of the two Nightlords.
"A Loyalist nearly killed Tristan and Has killed other Primaris. A Nightlord saved him. And I owe my life to Multiple Chaos Marines because a Custodes decided it didn't want to bond with me and would rather leave me dead on the ground from a broken neck. Which it did Not need to do to accomplish it's goal by the way." Lullaby states darkly.
"Also you're bonded. That's why you feel so protective over Rudy. Congratulations~" Lullaby huffs with a sarcastic flourish of their hands. "If you want more details on how bonds work I'm happy to explain them. I'm...somewhat of an expert."
Lion makes a sound that's half a laugh and half a huff. "I found myself once already in an era where the Imperium was effectively dead, at least in the regions beyond the great rift. I killed threats to the people before the Emperor ever came to find me, and when I woke up on worlds long separated from Terra. My purpose is to kill whatever threatens humanity." That last line comes out with a light growl. "But I will listen before targeting anyone. I know some of my sons have taken up certain actions in my name before without my approval. Now tell me about this loyalist who tried to kill Tristan." The final sentence is delivered in a perfectly calm tone. He's trying to tone down the intimidation factor. He's not very good at it. Mostly because he's not really doing anything so much as kind of existing at them.
None of this is leaving any doubt that he's highly dangerous and perfectly willing to follow through on his threat. But the way his aura flickers around the grey in his hair and the lines across his face carries a light sense of...regret?
Chilling as the primarch's words words were, Rose understood. She recognized her own ruthless protective streak over the ones she loved taken to it's ultimate conclusion in unmitigated act, then magnified to cover the entire species. And if moving forward with the stack of official pamphlets, not the ones she'd scribble translations on as she was learning Gothic, put her between Lion and Lullaby, Kara, Mirak and Kopesh? Well she was who she was after all. She gave Lullaby's shoulder a squeeze of solidaridy as she manuvered past.
Rolf was ahead of her though. Physicaly as well as metaphoricaly. Ian too moving protectivly at her side. Probably to grab her incase she did something precipitious.
The one armed Black Templar Scout's grin was visciously beatific. "The Brudder-Murdering Traitor Bastard Petras was excounicated from the chapter on Terra and beaten mostly to death for his crimes by Grandmaster Lord Sigismund, Lord El'Johnson. The discovery of the killing field where Tristan dug himself out of what the fucker intend to be his grave has postponed his death sentence since there was obvious evidence of mutiple distinct modus operandi. I watched him be taken into Alliance custody for questioning for names of accomplices and locations of other mass graves." His voice took on a
"Near the midway point of the last century shortly after the first time humanity split the atom, the majority Factions of Astartes Formed an Alliance to enforce a cease fire and to protect the Terra and it's inhabitants, my lord." Ian gently took the stack of pamphlets from Rose and passed them up, and up, to the primarch. "My elder brothers have prepared a series explanatory pamphlets on behalf of the alliance for comers for new arrivals while waiting for a welcoming committee to provide a more detailed briefing."
Lion took the pamphlets, squeezing Tristan so hard it was surprising he didn’t break. Only relaxing his hold when Tristan made a pained noise.
“Sigismund is here? Good. Rogal’s First Captain is quite the asset.” Lion took a deep breath, holding out his sword to Rolf, followed by his gun. “This sounds like the sort of headache I do not want to be armed for.” Clearly the Primarch was beyond furious, but trying to keep himself from acting rashly.
“Who is doing the interrogation? Would they need a hand?” Lion continued, as Tristan explained how the Night Lords had found him, and helped him out of the pit. Taken him to the clinic. And how Mirak had taken him under his wing.
From the sheer loathing in Lion’s voice at the mention of Petras, he might have found a new Most Hated Astartes.
Having turned over his weapons, Lion started scanning the pamphlets. Looking like he was absorbing the whole contents extremely quickly.
“Why was that fatherless savage Petras trying to kill loyal Astartes?” He asked softly while reading.
"Because they couldn't handle the fear of being replaced." Lullaby remarks dryly, now decidedly more calm. "I'm sure you can see the visible difference between say... Mirak and Khopesh's heights and those of Rolf, Tristan and Ian. This isn't just because of variance in Astarte Production."
"I don't know the exact timelines. I probably can't even comprehend them. But I do know this." Lulls explains. "The Primarch of the Ultramarines woke up, saw the State of the Imperium and went Fuck! We need more soldiers and we need them Faster and Bigger! And I'm sure he said it Exactly that way."
Despite the tension Khopesh laughs, though he also tries to stifle it. Mirak's shoulders shake as he tries to contain his, because Khopesh laughing is making him want to as well.
"And the First Borns, had every conceivable reaction from 'Oh yeah that's helpful, welcome to the fight little big brothers' To 'We think you're secret enemies so we will haze you into oblivion and use you like meat shields and just Generally make your existence a living hell until you die.'" Lullaby crosses their arms tightly. "Of course I firmly believe they were just jealous and paranoid and projected those feelings onto the Primaris. In Petra's case there was the Added issue that he's ah...getting high on something he really Really shouldn't have touched."
Lion raises an eyebrow and it's actually Khopesh who chimes in.
"He's been drinking on that Dark Prince ichor Slanneshi's like to go on about. Likely didn't help his already sadistic tendencies." Khopesh makes a bleh face. "Nasty fucker with nasty blood. Tasted like insects and burnt sugar. Glad I didn't swallow any when I ripped into him with me teeth."
Lullaby turns to him, and gently holds his hand. "As am I." They say softly.
They do Not like the idea of Khopesh getting addicted to something like that.
"I am quite sure there were far more discussions of theoreticals and practicals involved than that." Lion raises one eyebrow. "Guilliman always tended to assume that everyone else saw things the way he did."
Elsewhere, at Stone Flame base, Kerubiel and Belus are frantically trying to clean up their armor, quintuple-checking their weapons, and otherwise generally attempting to look like good scouts.
Lion looked frankly a little impressed as he turned his attention to Lullaby. “You remind me of Roboute’s mother. Lady Euten was absolutely terrifying. She actually told Konrad to go to Hell, right to his face.”
He straightened a little. “I will require more information on this Alliance”
Putting the pamphlets down, Lion then turned to Rudy. “Have you been informed of these bonds? What is your opinion?” Lion did sound a little awkward. Like he wasn’t quite sure what to say.
+++++
Meanwhile, Sigismund, now in full armor and regalia, mput a hand on Sevatar’s shoulder. “Try not to cause too much trouble while I’m gone, Jago.”
Before Sevatar could answer, Altani piped up with a wicked grin. “Don’t worry, Siege-dad, I will watch him.”
Sigismund laughed and pet Altani’s head. “Don’t forget to have some fun yourself. Alastor will be here to help.”
Much as he would have wanted to bring his Jago along, he had to admit them meeting again would be one complication Terra could do without.
Lullaby actually snorts at that mother comment. "I Too would like to tell Curze to go fuck himself. So I'll take that as a compliment."
"As for the Alliance it's simple in theory more complicated in practice. There's a Governing Tribunal of different Chapter Masters elected specifically from those Astartes who have survived their arrival here. Sad to say we do occasionally have those who have already passed be found." A sad look passes over Lullaby's face but they continue. "Sorry back on topic. it's those Chapter Masters plus some their advisors who've slowly constructed the Rules of Governing for how Astartes are to behave here."
"Rule 1 - Do not start a war. There are too few resources, and too little space to do that. We don't have to like each other but we will need to exist around each other to make sure we don't accidentally delete humanity. If you've got issues take it to the Ring or the Arbites."
Their thoughts drifted back to their Chaos and Renegade family members again. Not to mention their Loyalist Marines. The thought of them butchering eachother and Terra burning...they shiver.
Khopesh leans on them, offering support, which pulls them out of their brief spiraling.
"Ahem. Ah Rule 2 - No telling humans about all the mess that happens in the future and no telling them how to make the technology we eventually use to blow eachother up...as you might guess this rule is Much more difficult to enforce than rule 1. Granted I know more because I'm allowed to, given the duties I perform for the Alliance."
"And cardinal Rule Number 3 - Abuse of Baseline Humans forbidden outright and Killing of Baseline humans is Strictly forbidden unless in extenuating circumstances. As any human is or has the potential to become bonded. Marines who break this cardinal rule face immediate judgment by the Alliance and in cases where extenuating circumstances are not present may be sentenced to execution via either their own Chapter's methods Or..." They glance to Khopesh who's grin has widened to a bloodthirsty edge. Mirak sports a similar look. "By those of The Imperium's Eighth Legion, The Nightlords."
Lion’s face takes on an expression that looks like an impressive mixture of alarmed and sheepish. “It…was a compliment? I have thought that more of us should have had a mother like Lady Euten, or a mother at all.” Unwittingly echoing Konrad himself upon a time.
He sighs. “Last time I saw Konrad, was horrifying. He was falling apart. Not just mentally, but I swear he was starting to forget human shape. What happened to him? He hasn’t been here, has he?” The Primarch looks around as if he is expecting Konrad to pop out of the vents. Not that this house has any.
Lion looks down at the pamphlet for a moment. “Noted. I don’t start wars. I end them. If humanity ceased to exist, the Imperium would as well, and with it us. Which sounds rather messy.”
Mirak speaks up. “That’s another charge against Petras. He tried to murder a bonded human because she defended her Marine against his accusations. She is still recovering from her injuries, last I heard.”
Indeed, Ruthven was another one Mirak kept an eye on. April had been released from the hospital, and the pair had chosen to stay on base. Where they would be better protected while April still struggled to regain full mobility. And Ruthven got started with therapy and Astartes strength anxiety medication. Which the extremely antisocial and depressed Raven Guard needed. Badly.
Lion shuddered. “Utterly horrifying. It’s enough to make me think your bastard of an uncle should have been locked in a room with Petras until he confessed to everything.” This last was directed at Mirak.
“The Eighth actually behaves? Just when I thought things couldn’t be more absurd.” Lion looked completely gobsmacked. Shaking his head in pure disbelief.
Rudy is meanwhile kind of trying to disappear against the wall - and mostly succeeding. There's rapid conversation going on in a language he doesn't understand, and the one with the night lord boyfriend is getting animated. His stomach growls softly and Lion's head immediately turns with a slightly concerned look.
A minute later there's a crash outside followed by muffled astartes cursing. Three primaris marines have landed tangled up in a bush and are working on extricating themselves. Keru mutters an apology for the misaimed teleport while frantically attempting to de-twig his armor.
Thankfully for the poor Primaris, Lion is preoccupied, though it might be possible to see the back of him through the window.
Lion picks up the soggy cloak, starting to rummage through the pockets it inexplicably seems to have. Before muttering something that sounds like curses, though not in Gothic. Some other language.
Dropping the cloak, he looks ar Rolf. “Please inform the lady of the house that Rudy seems to be hungry. I do not think he could stomach my rations. Would it be possible to get him some food?
(Primarchs can eat pretty much anything. Sand, daemons, sand daemons…)
Lullaby glances to the pockets and the rations therein. "I'd err on the side or caution. Even if they're not harmful Rations are an acquired taste for many baselines. I should know." They then turn to Rose. "Do we have something we can warm up for Mr. Rudy? Or...I guess we could also whip up a quick sandwich. I make a pleasant grilled cheese." They then gesture to Khopesh with their thumb. "And HE makes a killer one."
Khopesh chuckles, and waves his hand. "You flatter me."
"Is it really flattery if it's true?" They reply slyly. Then they ask Rudy. "Oh also do you have any allergies or sensitivities?"
It's then they hear the crash followed by...familiar cussing.
"Keru!" Lullaby moves quickly toward the door where the rain is still pelting down.
"Absolutly," Rose replied, "I've got some Egg Breakfast muffins I can heat up quickly, as well as plenty of sandwich fixings." She lookd at the Microwave clock, which read 4:30 "Or if you'd rather have something lighter to tide you over until supper I can fix up a plate with cheese, crackers, summer sausage and mustard pickled eggs. I keep them ready to go in the fridge most of the time. It really is no bother." She smiled wryly at him as she turnned on the coffee maker. "Water's just about ready if you want tea or cocoa. Coffee will be ready might be a bit."
Rose and Rudy had an excellent view of Kerubial's dramatic entrance. In fact Rose stood at just the right angle to see both Rudy's face and Kerubral's crash landing. He looked ashen. "Or something stronger." She guided him to one of the tall chairs breakfast bar on the kitchen island.
"Ian are you up to translating for Rudy? He needs a dedicated translator for what's going" Rose asked the young Ultramarine who'd moved to stuport her and Rudy while Mirak, Kopesh and Rolf took off after Lulaby.
***
Tristan didn't notice as he turned to look after the crash that the hood of his sweat shirt was sliding until it was off his head. Revealing some of the changes the Martians had Wrought to his geneseed and the light blocking glasses he needed spend time outside in the daylight without burning his retinas.
Rudy looks at the group. "Um, honestly muffins would be fine, if it's not an inconvenience. I always liked familiar food, you know? And I was going to have dinner whenever I got to the campground, fix a pot of hot coffee on the stove - I got a little gas unit in the van."
Outside, fortunately, the only damages Kerubiel and company appear to have suffered is wounded pride. There's a lot of muffled grumbling and swearing as they try to look like dignified warriors and not wet cats. They're not having a lot of success.
it also tickles me to think about the 5D chess that dating between chaos/renegade warbands must be. if you’re both leaders of your warbands you can just merge em, but even that would probably have Ramifications. but if you’re not? buddy, either you’re moving in with your boyfriend, or you’re doing a long-distance relationship WHILE your commander tries to leverage it for political gain, AND your brothers doubt your allegiance probably, AND maybe your boyfriend’s commander tries to poach you. nightmare! compelling, though
May I suggest invoking the old tradition of kidnapping your spouse? Very romantic by CSM standards. You can even keep them tied up in your bedroom for a few days to get used their new living quarters.
"Why are you the one treating my bonded? I told the front desk that I wanted an apothecary tending to her, not some wet behind the ears neophyte who thinks he knows which and of the stylus-light is to peer into the eyes of his patient only a third of the time." A sneering, familiar voice slithered into his ears unpleasantly, as Cedric stopped at the entrance to the exam room that he'd been sent to. Standing in the middle of the room was Sergeant Martel, and a mildly embarrassed looking mortal sitting on the edge of the examination bed. His black and white armor gleamed in the artificial lights. Every bit as obnoxious and entitled as he had been in M42.
The baseline woman shifted a little, the sanitization paper crinkling a little beneath her body "He wouldn't be here in uniform if he wasn't qualified, Marty. Please be polite to the doctor?"
Cedric technically wasn't even supposed to be on duty right now. His active working time had ended two hours ago, and he'd been catching up on the last of his charting when he'd been asked by Doctor Nevash to see one more patient for the day, explaining that there had been an overprotective Astartes in the room who hadn't let the baseline medicae do his job. The last thing he wanted to do in this moment was deal with one of the miserable fuckers who had made his and his brothers' lives a living hell in M42 here. Especially as the day had been very trying and frustrating before. "Out." He stated, stepping aside and pointing at the door.
"What?" The mortal whimpered.
"What?!" Demanded Martel, his face twisting into an even more ugly scowl as he closed the distance between the two of them. Even with the bastard in armor and Cedric unarmored, the primaris was still taller.
"You heard me. Get out. You are not the one seeking medical care, correct?" Cedric answered, voice terse.
"I am not the one in need of medical care, that is correct." Martel huffed.
"Then get out. You being allowed in the room with your bonded as they get medical treatment is a privilege, not a right. One that can be revoked at any time, especially for shit behavior. Out. Now." The young apothecary ordered. He was exhausted, pissed off and not in the mood to deal with entitled fuckers.
"Or what?" Martel taunted "You'll refuse to treat my bonded?"
"Among other things, yes. Which will delay her care. Now, are you going to continue to show yourself to be the selfish, ego-driven self-important-" Asshole, shithead, brother-killer "-marine I know you well to be, or are you going to capitulate with an apothecary's orders for once in your misbegotten life before chemical restraints need to be used?" Cedric had moved so that he was in front of the door again, knowing that his words would inflame and infuriate the bastard. Which, if he was still the hot-tempered bastard that Cedric unfortunately had gotten to know in M42, would mean the bastard would charge him.
"What the fuck do you mean by that? How dare you insult me in such a way? We've never fucking met before in my life, how dare you be so fucking rude you mouthy piece of shit?" Martel snarls, taking two steps back before lowering his head down a little and charging him like a rampaging grox.
Cedric had anticipated this, and stepped neatly to the side, just barely out of the way enough that the firstborn marine couldn't grab him as he barreled out of the room.
Martel is unable to stop himself from crashing into the reinforced wall on the far side of the hallway, and begins swearing even louder, if wholly uncreatively. He shakes off trying to give himself a concussion via reinforced concrete walls, giving himself a possible light concussion and definite bruising.
Cedric closes and locks the door, which is built to withstand an Angry Astartes, and taps his wrist-mounted vox, speaking in High Gothic, as it's unlikely that the mortal will understand him, and he would rather not alarm her unnecessarily. "Security team to Exam room 107, please. The baseline's alleged bonded Astartes is verbally abusive and easily prone to violence and needs to be restrained and probably sedated. I am going to be checking over the mortal he claims is his bonded."
Less than a hearts-beat later, the vox crackles back, Anrir's voice steady and clear in the same language "Understood. Were you harmed?"
"Not physically, and sergeant Martel's brand of abrasive language is something I learned to ignore except for the actual information or instruction he gave me in M42." Cedric answered, still speaking in gothic and entirely content to give out that particular piece of information. It's likely to make Martel's day even worse, considering the mood the nosy old men in his life have been in recently.
"Security team Alpha is en-route." The Night Lord Apothecary stated after a moment "You are in one of the reinforced rooms with the baseline, yes?"
"Yes sir. I've also made sure to lock the door to ensure that the angry astartes does not potentially cause harm while in such a heightened emotional state." Cedric confirmed.
There was a muffled growl from beyond the door and the door knob rattled before a loud thud of ceramite on the heavily reinforced door could be heard.
Cedric ignored the noises and looked to the very nervous looking baseline and smiled, kneeling so that he was roughly eye level with her "Hello, I am Cedric, and I'm going to be your apothecary today. Please tell me why you've come to the clinic today."
"I... Uhm..." She flinches as something slams into the door again and the knob rattles. "Are you sure you can't let Marty back in? I know that he came on really aggressively, but that's because he's worried! If you let me talk to him for a couple of minutes, he'll be much calmer, I promise." The baseline rubs their right arm with their left hand, tugging the sleeve down over their hands.
Cedric shook his head "it's clinic protocol to separate a marine that emotionally volatile from a location with baselines in it. We are... Much, much stronger than humans are, and when emotions run high... The potential for accidental injuries or even deaths of the baselines around us are much higher. I don't mean to scare you, but to warn. I've asked for a security team to come and help him calm down. They are trained in de-escalation tactics." He's also fairly sure that Melinth is on sniper duty today, and while he doesn't get along very well with the Imperial Fist, the other is an excellent marksman. He gives the mortal a reassuring smile as he talks, hoping that she will refocus on the reason why she is here in the first place. He did track the movement and though the shadows covered their right hand to the point that a baseline might not have seen them, Cedric sees dark purple bruising on their right hand.
"Oh... I... I hadn't known that. I suppose that it does make sense, especially since he did try to attack you. But it's because he's worried! A lot of his emotions that aren't positive ones come out as anger. I've tried talking him into going to see a therapist, but he's... He's been resistant to that." She answers, flinching as something - likely her idiot bonded - slams against the door again "Oh! I'm being so rude. My name is Siobhan. I'm here because I've been feeling nauseated for hours a day, typically in the morning, or after I have a heavy meal, which is unusual me for the past three weeks. And before you ask, I just finished my most recent period three days ago and I took an at-home pregnancy test, so I know it's not that. I've also been dealing with stomach pain just under my rib cage for about three weeks now too?"
Cedric nodded, a thoughtful hum leaving him as he asked "May I take your vitals?" He could already hear the speed and rhythm of her heart, the way her lungs inflated and deflated, and could guess at her current body temperature from standing close to her, but it was policy to ask permission and to use the equipment to ensure that his readings were accurate. He's not sure how to tactfully ask about their bruises that they are taking pains to hide, and notes them down in her chart. He pauses for a moment, realizing that almost none of their patient information is available. Not even their name.
"Yes please." Siobhan answers with a slightly anxious nod of the head.
Muffled shouting could be heard on the other side of the door. Belatedly, Cedric remembered that he could make the room noise cancelling with the push of a button, so he did so surreptitiously as he grabbed the stethoscope and blood pressure cuff, sanitizing both of them as he walked back over to her and asked "Left arm or right?"
"Oh, left arm, please. I have a birth control implant in my right upper arm." The baseline answered, gesturing with her right hand to her left arm before unzipping the sweater she was wearing and pulling out her left arm, moving with a care that suggested that they were sore, or perhaps lightly injured.
He nods, placing the cuff properly on her arm and starting to inflate it, keeping quiet as he took her pulse and blood pressure. He takes her temperature and hums a little, noting the information down in her chart "Have you been feeling chills lately? Or needed to layer up more than you usually do for the weather?" He notes the baseline's movements in the chart and asks "Have you visited this clinic before?"
"I... Yes, in the past couple of days. Just after my period ended." Siobhan answered with a small nod. "Oh, no. I haven't been to this or any other Astartes run clinic before. Gannet Point is the first town I've visited that has a dedicated astartes base."
"You are running a low grade fever. I am going to give you something to help bring it down, then if you are amenable, swab the inside of your nose and send it off for testing. There's a flu going around Gannet Point and the symptoms start off slowly, but progress to much more unpleasant ones as the disease progresses. If you have caught this flu, there are a number of treatments available and I will provide you with a work note, at least for the next few days as you are actively feverish and should refrain from going places in public, especially without a mask, whenever you can. Additionally, there are several astartes bases in and around Gannet Point."
She nods and raises a hand to her head "Ohh, I shouldn't have nodded like that. It's made me dizzy. Do you have a barf bag?"
"I have several. Here you are." Cedric answers, the disposable barf bag already in hand as he offers it to her as he noted the change in her expression.
"Thank you. Something for the fever and flu testing would be great. How long will it take to get the results?" Siobhan asked curiously.
Considering that the swab would be handed to the nearest on-staff death guard and sniffed for illness, not long. But that might unsettle her, depending on just how much the warp blinds her to the... Oddities of space marines and particularly Chaos Marines "Less than an hour. We've got things here that are much better at processing such things than is widely available to the public."
"... I can see why he insisted I come here, rather than wait for hours in an Urgent Care place and have to wait even longer for test results." The mortal sighed, shrugging her shoulders a little, though there was a small and grateful smile appearing on her face. "... The door noises have stopped."
Cedric nods and opens one of the cabinets, retrieving one dose of fever reducer and a small bottle of water. He pauses for a moment and says "We do have liquid fever reducer, if you're unsure if you can handle a pill, as I do not know how sensitive your stomach is at the moment. Yes, it's because security has arrived. So long as he doesn't prove to be too much of a trouble maker, he won't be put in the brig for long."
"I...I see. I suppose there isn't any way I can talk you into letting him go from astartes jail?" She asks, voice sad and hopeful.
"No, because that's not my call to make. If you like, once we are done with this and if you do not need to be quarantined - the flu I mentioned before is quite virulent and spreads rapidly among mortals, though the quarantine rooms are comfortable and well-supplied, should that need to happen." Cedric explains, voice level and calm. It depended on if he did any actual property damage. He also did flag her file as someone to speak with one of the mortal safety people, as there were a couple of things that she said - and the level of violence Martel escalated to so quickly that raised a few red flags for him. "Do you want a fever reducing pill or liquid medication? I think I can hunt down a sublingual fever reducer if that's needed, as you mentioned nausea earlier."
"I think I can handle one pill and a bit of water. I haven't eaten much in days, but I do try to drink water and sip broth. Marty's been away on patrol and came back about an hour ago. I guess he saw the way I'd been living while he'd been with some of his brothers, picked me up and ran all the way here. We don't live in Gannet Point, but in Stefford's Rest, which is a tiny little town to the south of here, a little bit further inland. It used to be a lumber town, before the conservation laws passed and most of the people left. I like it there as it's quiet and the perfect place for me to write -"
She abruptly stops talking and looks away, a blush rising on her face as she takes the pills.
Cedric blinks a little in confusion, tilting his head as he approaches with the cotton tipped swab "Why did you stop speaking? Are you having increased nausea or other symptoms?"
"I... No, no, nothing like that. I just realized I was rambling at you about my life and I'm sure that you would just rather do your job and I'm slowing you down by yapping at you endlessly. I'm sorry, I'm a chatty person by nature when I do get to talk to other people." She apologized, ducking her head a little.
"... You do not need to apologize to me for speaking about your history. It gives me a more complete understanding of what may be going on. And the passion that you exhibit is not something I find objectionable in the least. Why would that upset me?" Cedric asks, a confusion expression on his face.
"Well... It's just... I'm rambling to you about my life and you're a doctor and I'm sure you're really busy and have lots of important things to do and I just... Oh no, I'm rambling again, I'm sorry! I get like this when I'm nervous. I'll try and stop, promise." Siobhan explained in a rush, ducking her head as the blush spreads further.
Cedric blinked several times, trying to figure out how to put what he was thinking into words, without the sudden flare of righteous fury that clawed at his hearts. At least it was helping his flagging energy to be suddenly this pissed off "You need not apologize to me about your talkativeness, nor for seeking help. I am an apothecary. Above any other duty, it is my life's purpose to treat and care for others, human and astartes alike. If anything, I apologize to you, that others have made it seem as though you are someone to stay quiet and only speak when spoken to."
He's had to deal with bastards who thought that of him. It had been awful, and he never wants to be the sort of entitled asshole who steals the voice from others, even those he finds tiresome and irritating. Not that Miss Siobhan was irritating, nor was she tiresome. Her bonded was another story, but he was being handled by those whose job it was to deal with obstreperous idiots.
"I... Thank you. That's very sweet of you to say." Siobhan responds.
"Oh! I just realized that I have been rude as well. Do you have-" He paused for a moment, scrolling up a little on his data slate "Preferred pronouns. You are a quick admissions, and most of your biographical data is blank." It's one of the things that is flagged as important, although Cedric isn't quite sure why it matters so much. Not that he's going to say it out loud, he doesn't want to be assigned another weird and confusing training module that basically boiled down to mind your manners. He assumed that the emphasis on gender was a baseline thing?
"Oh! She/her, they/them. xie/xir, please." Siobhan offers with a smile "And yours?"
Cedric dutifully noted that down, mildly confused about they being used to identify a singular individual, but he wasn't going to ask about it. It wasn't any of his business. Nor was xie, either. "I am an astartes, and gender as it viewed by baselines is largely irrelevant."
Xie laughs hard at that, curling into a ball and leaning against the examination table. "Ahahahaha! hahaha."
"What's so funny? Did I say something humorous? This is a language I am learning, so if I made a pun or other sort of wordplay, I did not intend to, and I would like it pointed out to me, please?" Cedric asked, mildly taken aback by how much mirth he had brought them.
"No, no, you clearly aren't joking or making a pun. I just. I find it really funny that you don't seem to care much about gender and said so bluntly. It's quite refreshing, as I've been dealing with all sorts of nonsense about how I present myself since I took the steps to truly be myself. It's nice to meet others who don't care a lot about the gender of other people around them." Siobhan explained, mirth still in xeir face and eyes, though they were taking a few breaths to calm themself down.
"Oh... I see." No he didn't, not really. But why would he invest much energy into caring about the pronouns of others, apart from knowing how to address them correctly? As long as the terms the person or people in question were being referred to weren't harmful physically, mentally or spiritually... He's not sure it really matters? Maybe it was one of those things that he would understand better as he gained experience as an Apothecary? "May I please swab the inside of your nostrils, please?"
"Yes please." Siobhan answers, sitting up properly and going still.
Cedric moves in close and swabs both of xeir nostrils and says "I should be back shortly. Feel free to finish the water bottle. Trash can's under the sink." With that he steps out and goes to find Hura, who is the plague marine on staff this shift. He pauses on the way there, knocking on the door of the mortal on duty this shift who dealt with domestic situations "Ah, Mx Desri?"
"Yes Cedric, did you need something?" They ask, looking up from their cogitator, their fingers stilling for a couple of moments.
"I have a patient in room 107 whose behavior and movements have given me some cause for concern. Also, her bonded was the Astartes you probably saw less than ten minute ago being dragged off by security - possibly tranquilized?"
They nod and stand up "I'll talk to them. How long are you going to be out of the room?" They pull up a face mask as they stand.
"Probably about ten to fifteen minutes. I need to take this to Hura." Cedric explains, gesturing to the swab he's carefully holding.
"Understood - and aren't you supposed to be off shift?" Mx Desri asked.
"Supposed to be? Yes. But xeir bonded is a Black Templar and... You know how picky some of my older brothers can get. They are my last patient for the day, and after that it's just catching up on my charting and then food and bed." Cedric answered with a sigh and a slight shrug. He hasn't started to hear whispers of his dead brothers so he isn't dangerously sleep deprived.
"Alright then. Please do take care of yourself, Cedric. It's important that we care for ourselves, so that we can care for others more effectively." They advised him.
"Yeah, yeah. I know. Can't pour from an empty cup, sleep is important, I've heard it before." Cedric grumbled. He's not sure why this work-life balance grox-shit was so important. He was fine. Really. He heads off to go find Hura.
Warnings: nonconsensual voyeurism, smut, please ask me to tag something if I’ve missed it!
Summary: Tylus finds a baseline out in the deep wounds. He intended to ask if they needed help, but finds that they are busy.
Tylus hadn't meant to intrude. Genuinely and truly. He had merely been tracking wildlife in the deep woods, when the scent of a baseline out in these woods had caught his attention. He'd been concerned, as the few roads that went this deep into the forest were rough to say the least. It was nearing nightfall, and though it was warm during the day in the early summer, the temperatures quickly dipped below what most baselines who weren't from Fenris, Inwit or other frigid worlds considered comfortable.
He had intended to find the baseline, who was out in the woods all by themself, to ask if they had needed assistance. He found the vehicle that they had driven here in - a dirt-coated four-wheeled vehicle with a small cabin in the front and a flat bed in the back. There were quite a few items packed neatly into the back of the flatbed... Supplies for survival out here.
He'd also spotted the baseline's temporary lodgings - a canvas tent with zippers on all four sides of it. Two were only went part of the way up and were likely a very flimsy facsimile of windows, and the other two were much larger, and were likely supposed to be doors. Tylus knew a half dozen Imperial Fists who would immediately start building proper fortifications, offended by the very appearance of such a terrible and flimsy bit of cover for a baseline of Terra to use. He knew just as many Iron Warriors who would do the same, just with more verbal swearing.
Tylus had intended to approach the vehicle and knock on the metal frame loud enough to be heard - so as to be far enough to hopefully not be looming and terrifying, as the Ravenguard had been accused of being more than once by baselines who'd been startled by his allegedly sudden appearance, in both his native time period and in this one. But the baseline's scent was... Odd.
The musky scent of arousal hit his sensitive nose when he pulled off his beaked helmet - another precaution he'd taken in order to try to seem less threatening, and certainly not for any nefarious purposes. Which had caused him to freeze in place, startled by its' presence.
"Ah! Yes~!" The baseline cried out from inside the tent "Fuck! Just-just like that!"
He could hear a faint but insistent... Buzzing sound, of some sort of device, beneath the baseline's moan.
Tylus waited, trying to figure out if there were at least two baselines in that tent, or if the baseline he'd intended on offering help for was alone.
He only heard one set of uneven, aroused breathing, a single baseline heartbeat - fast and slightly unsteady.
The slick sound of flesh moving and the buzzing of the device.
"Ah! Hah... yes!" the baseline groaned.
Curiosity urged Tylus closer, though his sense of propriety warred with it. Surely he should leave and return an hour or two later, as the baseline was clearly having a very... Intimate moment. But what if they were beset by some perverted dark mechanicus device, their needy flesh keeping their minds prisoner for the predations of the servants of the prince of pleasure?
Valiantly, Tylus moved closer, realizing that one of the very flimsy cloth windows was partially unzipped, which should allow him the ability to see into the tent and get a more complete understanding of what was going on.
"Fuck! yes! Harder! please~!" The baseline cried out. A moment later the buzzing sound intensified, as did the slick sounds of flesh against some sort of device.
The Ravenguard crept closer, moving with the graceful stealth that his legion was known for, and he he stood so that he would be able to peer into the window without likely being immediately seen by anyone or anything inside the tent, from what he could hear of the sounds and noises that the baseline and the device were making. His armor was starting to feel a little... Tight to him, and warmth was pooling in his lower stomach.
He ignored the internal stimuli as he inched closer slowly, his dark eyes narrowing in focus as the baseline came into view, through the gauzy netting of the window.
Tylus' initial assumption that the baseline was alone was correct. Their trembling body was flat to the air mattress that they were laying on, legs spread apart as their hands moved a toy in and out of their hole, as sounds of need and pleasure left their lips. Lips that Tylus could not see, as he had deliberately approached at an angle where he was unlikely to see their face, in the event that their eyes were open and they were cognizant of their surroundings enough to realize that he was-
that he had -
That he was watching them as they pleasured themself with a fake, buzzing cock.
The heat in his lower stomach was intensifying and it was so... Hypnotizing, the way the baseline's hands moved the toy... The way the fake cock fucked in and out of their hole as it stretched ever so invitingly around him. The noises the baseline was making and their intoxicatingly arousing scent of need-want.
He breathed in through his nose deeply, and breathed out through his mouth, dark eyes dilated as his hands drifted to his codpiece as the mortal moaned out again "Oh fuck! shit! Please! There! Ah!"
Tylus has... Some experience with sex, and more than fumbling with his own cock in a dark corner, biting a pillow to keep any noises from disturbing his brothers. He's curious if the mortal's hole could stretch around his cock as well as they stretch around that buzzing toy.
The Ravenguard freezes as he realize that one of his hands had partially unlocked his codpiece, while the other had gone to one of the zippers of the door. That his feet had carried him over to the entrance.
"Fuck! Please! Yes! that's it! I'm-I'm close!" The baseline moaned.
What was he doing? This was clearly a private moment that the baseline had clearly sought out! He should. He should leave. They had plenty of supplies in their ground vehicle, and had clearly come out into the middle of the woods in order to seek absolute privacy while they pleasured themselves.
Tylus slowly backs away from the tent, each step harder than the last, particularly as the baseline's labored breathing speeds up, as does the shlick-shlick sounds of the toy they were using to fill that needy little hole of theirs until -
"Ah! Fuck! That's it!" They keened.
Tylus slammed his helmet back on his head and turned off the external vox, so that the sound he made when he heard the baseline orgasm wouldn't go further than the inside of his helm. To his shame, he realized that he was painfully aroused and he silently fled the site that the baseline had chosen to use to pleasure themselves, each step another reminder of how much he had enjoyed watching and hearing them pleasure themself while they had no idea he was there.
Fuck!
What was he going to do with this information? He needed to report himself to the nearest chaplain and confess his sins and be punished for his lewd behavior. He probably needed to be checked for Chaos Corruption of the Slaaneshi variety. HIs thoughts continued to spiral as he fled further from the area, though his mind couldn't help but replay the needy sounds, the pleasured sighs... The gorgeous way that their hole accepted a (fake) cock, his mind treacherously substituting the toy with his own cock.
Would they whine and whimper that he was too big, too thick for him, even as their gorgeous legs opened wider for him? Or would they take his cock just as easily as they took that toy, begging and pleading for him as they did that toy? How might it feel to be buried deep inside of them as he-
NO! He had intruded upon an intimate moment, he should not find that thought as thrilling as it was. Tylus rolled his shoulders and kept running until he was a good twenty kliks away from the baseline's camp and several hours had passed. HIs cock had softened over time, but perked up each time his thoughts had treacherously slipped back to the mortal.
Why must he be tested in this way? It wasn't fair. Not that he blamed the mortal, who had clearly taken pains to be alone... No, this was his sin to bear...
Bare...
Their bare, glistening skin. Would they be warm to the touch, beneath his fingers? Their skin a beautiful contrast to his alabaster skin?
A frustrated growl left him as he kept walking away from their campsite, he would not intrude. He would not be more rude! Tyrus walked until he needed to rest, and sat beneath a deciduous tree, leaning against the main trunk, closing his eyes and praying to whatever would listen that he wouldn't be further tormented by the temptations he had seen.
Alright, open offer to anyone who wants to have some fun. Rimworld, 40k mod series, assorted imperial run. Anyone who likes may request 1 loyalist astartes character and/or 1 serf character. (Post-heresy only because I don't have any mods that make unmutated versions of the traitor legions.)
Suggest traits and skills as much or as little as you like. Skills per here: https://rimworldwiki.com/wiki/Skills . Suggest traits if you want but I have multiple mods that add traits and backstories so if it's not vanilla rimworld I can probably still find something close. Basically, if I have a name and a rough description I can make something but you can add more detail too.
I make absolutely no promises there will not be gruesome deaths, soap opera level breakups and affairs, astartes tantrums because they had to eat without a table, and any other rimworld nonsense. I do promise to document what happens.
P.S. submissions accepted via DM/Comment/Reblog/Messenger Pigeon/Whatever.
Thinking of using the gravship to do a "crashed shuttle" style run. So we can run around conquering a new planet in the name of the emperor. How's this for a thunderhawk?
(If I accidentally left anyone out feel free to jump in or tag them!)
Seated at the big table in her outdoor kitchen Rose looked up from the essay she was proofreading, taking in at the group of scouts and one niece sudiously writing or typing. Mirak had decided co-opt Tristian along to get his first draft of the essay for their nightclass proofread while Kara worked on her enterance essay for her application to medical radiology techician program. Rose hadn't comented when two of the other primaris scouts in the night class, Rolf and Ian Holt had joined them to write and engage in proofreading. Primaris scouts never went anywhere in groups of less than two or three if they could at all help it. Honestly she wouldn't be surprised if some of the Cryptid Scouts had come out of the woods to stay close, or if any of the scouts from base came to join them.
Rolf looked down nervously at the red pen editing marks on his paper. "I'm terribly sorry for my error mamzel err Lady Beauchamp. I won't repeat it."
Rose gently laid her hand on his remaining arm in reasurance speaking in high gothic. "Easy, the point of the assignment on your rubric is to turn in a polished first draft. You're doing mostly alright. It's mainly the English homophones that a catching you up. Remember t-h-e-r-e, refers to location, t-h-e-i-r is the third person plural possive pronoun, and t-h-e-y-apostrophe-r-e is a contraction of they are." Rose smiled encouragingly. "Their, There and They're are something native English speakers struggle with."
She might have said more but the noises of the forest trailed off into nothing.
Lullaby glances to the honestly impressive fuck off gun, and flinches slightly.
Images they'd rather not imagine flit across their mind, namely every Chaos or Renegade aligned Marine they know and love getting holes blown or stabbed through them by this so called King, and them being powerless to stop it.
But they've got a chance. He hasn't ripped into Khopesh or Mirak, Yet. He's even given the benefit of providing answers as to why Tristan has spoken up for them.
So you speak.
"You wanna know why a Nightlord saved Tristan? Because that's how things work around here." The Baseline says, words clipped but firm.
"Dr. Rose means it when she says All types of Marines are here. They live, they love, they coexist." Lullaby declares. "Because Everyone from the most rabid bloodthirsty follower of Khorne to the most Zealous Imperial Loyalist knows if they Start shit it will reduce Terra to ashes and wastes."
Lullaby stands straighter. "Khopesh is from the Time of the Great Crusade. Mirak from not long after, relatively, anyway. And he's pre-heresy. Use that as justification of them being 'Different' if you must." The psycher grunts. "There is No Imperium. No other worlds. No space travel to take us beyond our own solar system. There's not even an Emperor or if he's here he's not made himself known and Nobody has found his ass yet."
"There's us. This world. And the clunky, cluttered weird tenuous arrangement that keeps Everyone physically alive and able to actually Live for once in their misbegotten existences that You and Your Father forced them into!"
The atmosphere is heating, sparks are ticking and clicking, the dome feels like the air is becoming wavy and painful. Lullaby continues bearing their proverbial fangs. Their mouth feels like they imagine biting down onto electrically charged gold would.
"You're here now. And I don't know what you faced before you arrived but honestly it doesn't really matter." They stand in front of the two Nightlords.
"A Loyalist nearly killed Tristan and Has killed other Primaris. A Nightlord saved him. And I owe my life to Multiple Chaos Marines because a Custodes decided it didn't want to bond with me and would rather leave me dead on the ground from a broken neck. Which it did Not need to do to accomplish it's goal by the way." Lullaby states darkly.
"Also you're bonded. That's why you feel so protective over Rudy. Congratulations~" Lullaby huffs with a sarcastic flourish of their hands. "If you want more details on how bonds work I'm happy to explain them. I'm...somewhat of an expert."
Lion makes a sound that's half a laugh and half a huff. "I found myself once already in an era where the Imperium was effectively dead, at least in the regions beyond the great rift. I killed threats to the people before the Emperor ever came to find me, and when I woke up on worlds long separated from Terra. My purpose is to kill whatever threatens humanity." That last line comes out with a light growl. "But I will listen before targeting anyone. I know some of my sons have taken up certain actions in my name before without my approval. Now tell me about this loyalist who tried to kill Tristan." The final sentence is delivered in a perfectly calm tone. He's trying to tone down the intimidation factor. He's not very good at it. Mostly because he's not really doing anything so much as kind of existing at them.
None of this is leaving any doubt that he's highly dangerous and perfectly willing to follow through on his threat. But the way his aura flickers around the grey in his hair and the lines across his face carries a light sense of...regret?
Chilling as the primarch's words words were, Rose understood. She recognized her own ruthless protective streak over the ones she loved taken to it's ultimate conclusion in unmitigated act, then magnified to cover the entire species. And if moving forward with the stack of official pamphlets, not the ones she'd scribble translations on as she was learning Gothic, put her between Lion and Lullaby, Kara, Mirak and Kopesh? Well she was who she was after all. She gave Lullaby's shoulder a squeeze of solidaridy as she manuvered past.
Rolf was ahead of her though. Physicaly as well as metaphoricaly. Ian too moving protectivly at her side. Probably to grab her incase she did something precipitious.
The one armed Black Templar Scout's grin was visciously beatific. "The Brudder-Murdering Traitor Bastard Petras was excounicated from the chapter on Terra and beaten mostly to death for his crimes by Grandmaster Lord Sigismund, Lord El'Johnson. The discovery of the killing field where Tristan dug himself out of what the fucker intend to be his grave has postponed his death sentence since there was obvious evidence of mutiple distinct modus operandi. I watched him be taken into Alliance custody for questioning for names of accomplices and locations of other mass graves." His voice took on a
"Near the midway point of the last century shortly after the first time humanity split the atom, the majority Factions of Astartes Formed an Alliance to enforce a cease fire and to protect the Terra and it's inhabitants, my lord." Ian gently took the stack of pamphlets from Rose and passed them up, and up, to the primarch. "My elder brothers have prepared a series explanatory pamphlets on behalf of the alliance for comers for new arrivals while waiting for a welcoming committee to provide a more detailed briefing."
Lion took the pamphlets, squeezing Tristan so hard it was surprising he didn’t break. Only relaxing his hold when Tristan made a pained noise.
“Sigismund is here? Good. Rogal’s First Captain is quite the asset.” Lion took a deep breath, holding out his sword to Rolf, followed by his gun. “This sounds like the sort of headache I do not want to be armed for.” Clearly the Primarch was beyond furious, but trying to keep himself from acting rashly.
“Who is doing the interrogation? Would they need a hand?” Lion continued, as Tristan explained how the Night Lords had found him, and helped him out of the pit. Taken him to the clinic. And how Mirak had taken him under his wing.
From the sheer loathing in Lion’s voice at the mention of Petras, he might have found a new Most Hated Astartes.
Having turned over his weapons, Lion started scanning the pamphlets. Looking like he was absorbing the whole contents extremely quickly.
“Why was that fatherless savage Petras trying to kill loyal Astartes?” He asked softly while reading.
"Because they couldn't handle the fear of being replaced." Lullaby remarks dryly, now decidedly more calm. "I'm sure you can see the visible difference between say... Mirak and Khopesh's heights and those of Rolf, Tristan and Ian. This isn't just because of variance in Astarte Production."
"I don't know the exact timelines. I probably can't even comprehend them. But I do know this." Lulls explains. "The Primarch of the Ultramarines woke up, saw the State of the Imperium and went Fuck! We need more soldiers and we need them Faster and Bigger! And I'm sure he said it Exactly that way."
Despite the tension Khopesh laughs, though he also tries to stifle it. Mirak's shoulders shake as he tries to contain his, because Khopesh laughing is making him want to as well.
"And the First Borns, had every conceivable reaction from 'Oh yeah that's helpful, welcome to the fight little big brothers' To 'We think you're secret enemies so we will haze you into oblivion and use you like meat shields and just Generally make your existence a living hell until you die.'" Lullaby crosses their arms tightly. "Of course I firmly believe they were just jealous and paranoid and projected those feelings onto the Primaris. In Petra's case there was the Added issue that he's ah...getting high on something he really Really shouldn't have touched."
Lion raises an eyebrow and it's actually Khopesh who chimes in.
"He's been drinking on that Dark Prince ichor Slanneshi's like to go on about. Likely didn't help his already sadistic tendencies." Khopesh makes a bleh face. "Nasty fucker with nasty blood. Tasted like insects and burnt sugar. Glad I didn't swallow any when I ripped into him with me teeth."
Lullaby turns to him, and gently holds his hand. "As am I." They say softly.
They do Not like the idea of Khopesh getting addicted to something like that.
"I am quite sure there were far more discussions of theoreticals and practicals involved than that." Lion raises one eyebrow. "Guilliman always tended to assume that everyone else saw things the way he did."
Elsewhere, at Stone Flame base, Kerubiel and Belus are frantically trying to clean up their armor, quintuple-checking their weapons, and otherwise generally attempting to look like good scouts.
Lion looked frankly a little impressed as he turned his attention to Lullaby. “You remind me of Roboute’s mother. Lady Euten was absolutely terrifying. She actually told Konrad to go to Hell, right to his face.”
He straightened a little. “I will require more information on this Alliance”
Putting the pamphlets down, Lion then turned to Rudy. “Have you been informed of these bonds? What is your opinion?” Lion did sound a little awkward. Like he wasn’t quite sure what to say.
+++++
Meanwhile, Sigismund, now in full armor and regalia, mput a hand on Sevatar’s shoulder. “Try not to cause too much trouble while I’m gone, Jago.”
Before Sevatar could answer, Altani piped up with a wicked grin. “Don’t worry, Siege-dad, I will watch him.”
Sigismund laughed and pet Altani’s head. “Don’t forget to have some fun yourself. Alastor will be here to help.”
Much as he would have wanted to bring his Jago along, he had to admit them meeting again would be one complication Terra could do without.
Lullaby actually snorts at that mother comment. "I Too would like to tell Curze to go fuck himself. So I'll take that as a compliment."
"As for the Alliance it's simple in theory more complicated in practice. There's a Governing Tribunal of different Chapter Masters elected specifically from those Astartes who have survived their arrival here. Sad to say we do occasionally have those who have already passed be found." A sad look passes over Lullaby's face but they continue. "Sorry back on topic. it's those Chapter Masters plus some their advisors who've slowly constructed the Rules of Governing for how Astartes are to behave here."
"Rule 1 - Do not start a war. There are too few resources, and too little space to do that. We don't have to like each other but we will need to exist around each other to make sure we don't accidentally delete humanity. If you've got issues take it to the Ring or the Arbites."
Their thoughts drifted back to their Chaos and Renegade family members again. Not to mention their Loyalist Marines. The thought of them butchering eachother and Terra burning...they shiver.
Khopesh leans on them, offering support, which pulls them out of their brief spiraling.
"Ahem. Ah Rule 2 - No telling humans about all the mess that happens in the future and no telling them how to make the technology we eventually use to blow eachother up...as you might guess this rule is Much more difficult to enforce than rule 1. Granted I know more because I'm allowed to, given the duties I perform for the Alliance."
"And cardinal Rule Number 3 - Abuse of Baseline Humans forbidden outright and Killing of Baseline humans is Strictly forbidden unless in extenuating circumstances. As any human is or has the potential to become bonded. Marines who break this cardinal rule face immediate judgment by the Alliance and in cases where extenuating circumstances are not present may be sentenced to execution via either their own Chapter's methods Or..." They glance to Khopesh who's grin has widened to a bloodthirsty edge. Mirak sports a similar look. "By those of The Imperium's Eighth Legion, The Nightlords."
Lion’s face takes on an expression that looks like an impressive mixture of alarmed and sheepish. “It…was a compliment? I have thought that more of us should have had a mother like Lady Euten, or a mother at all.” Unwittingly echoing Konrad himself upon a time.
He sighs. “Last time I saw Konrad, was horrifying. He was falling apart. Not just mentally, but I swear he was starting to forget human shape. What happened to him? He hasn’t been here, has he?” The Primarch looks around as if he is expecting Konrad to pop out of the vents. Not that this house has any.
Lion looks down at the pamphlet for a moment. “Noted. I don’t start wars. I end them. If humanity ceased to exist, the Imperium would as well, and with it us. Which sounds rather messy.”
Mirak speaks up. “That’s another charge against Petras. He tried to murder a bonded human because she defended her Marine against his accusations. She is still recovering from her injuries, last I heard.”
Indeed, Ruthven was another one Mirak kept an eye on. April had been released from the hospital, and the pair had chosen to stay on base. Where they would be better protected while April still struggled to regain full mobility. And Ruthven got started with therapy and Astartes strength anxiety medication. Which the extremely antisocial and depressed Raven Guard needed. Badly.
Lion shuddered. “Utterly horrifying. It’s enough to make me think your bastard of an uncle should have been locked in a room with Petras until he confessed to everything.” This last was directed at Mirak.
“The Eighth actually behaves? Just when I thought things couldn’t be more absurd.” Lion looked completely gobsmacked. Shaking his head in pure disbelief.
Rudy is meanwhile kind of trying to disappear against the wall - and mostly succeeding. There's rapid conversation going on in a language he doesn't understand, and the one with the night lord boyfriend is getting animated. His stomach growls softly and Lion's head immediately turns with a slightly concerned look.
A minute later there's a crash outside followed by muffled astartes cursing. Three primaris marines have landed tangled up in a bush and are working on extricating themselves. Keru mutters an apology for the misaimed teleport while frantically attempting to de-twig his armor.
Warnings: coercion, manipulation, please ask me to tag something if I’ve missed it!
Summary: Vorca and his bonded Mallory are on a date. It goes.
"How could you do this to me?" Mallory asked, their eyes widening as they stared up at their bonded, eyes shining with tears. Their voice was just loud enough to catch the attention of several other marines who happened to be walking past.
Vorca could feel the judgmental eyes on him. He swallowed hard and answered "I don't... I don't know what you're talking about, bonded." His voice quiet, but he could feel the eyes on him keenly.
"You promised that we would spend the day together today! That we'd do everything I wanted to do today, and that you'd cleared your ever so busy schedule so that we could have a day to ourselves." Mallory continued, letting tears well up in their eyes, their voice wobbling with pain and disappointment.
A sound of distress left the Ravenguard and he shook his head, his tongue feeling like lead. It was a blindingly bright day, but his bonded had insisted that he remove his sunglasses as they wanted to see his beautiful dark eyes. He'd tried to remind them that he had very sensitive eyes when it came to bright light, but they'd cried until he promised that he'd keep them off as much as possible. "But... But we are doing what you want, love..." He points out, at a loss as to why they were doing this.
The sense of judgment pressed harder from his cousins around him. The scrutiny was terrifying and was stifling the air in his lungs as tears continued to shine in his beloved's eyes.
He hurried to explain "You said that you wanted to go to your favorite bakery this morning to get fresh sourdough bread and that ground nut spread that you really like. Which we have. You wanted to go to the farmer's market to get fresh vegetables and those cured meats to fill out our picnic, so we have. We... We're about to head to your favorite picnic spot in the park, like you asked. Is there... Is there something else that you want to do today that you haven't mentioned yet?" Anxiety rose within the Ravenguard as he waited for their response, still genuinely struggling to figure out what he could have possibly done to get this response.
"While I was talking to one of my friends, I heard your vox go off and you answered it." Mallory pouted, a single tears sliding down their face.
That was unfair! "You... You were talking to your friend on that vox machine of yours. So I took the brief opportunity to read the message I'd been given to see if it was urgent. It was not and I reminded the cousin who sent me the message that I was not to be disturbed today unless it was an emergency!" Vorca protested, glad that his astartes training prevented him from trembling with the intense emotions that were trying to vie for dominance in his hearts. He's not done anything wrong!
"But you promised not to be on your vox at all unless it was an actual emergency!" Mallory huffed "Am I not worth one single day with you being fully present at my side? Do you really love me?"
Vorca dropped to his knees, knowing that this was going to be the only way that he was going to get them to snap out of this spiral, especially since they were in public and starting to attract more attention. As much as he wanted to flee into the nearest shadow and hide, he knew that Mallory would not take well to him hiding away from the public eye when they got like this. "Beloved... My hearts, my soul... I love you more than I have the words to express. I want to be fully present here with you, and if I could turn off my vox-comms, I would. But that's not how the systems work. Please let me dry your tears and make up for my mistake?"
He doesn't dare touch them when they're in this mood without permission. They're as liable to start screaming as to lean into his touch.
Their lower lip wobbles as more tears shine in their eyes "I... Oh, I suppose... If you promise not to answer your vox for the rest of the day... and I do have an idea as to how you can properly make it up to me for being distracted during our full day date. And I'd like it very much if you'd help me with these tears that you caused me." They sniffle a little and the judgmental stares sharpen upon him. His armor gives him no protection against them, nor the tears his bonded sheds.
"Thank you, my love." Vorca murmurs, pulling out a clean cloth handkerchief from a pouch and gently dabs the tears off of his beloved's face, murmuring more apologies for briefly answering his vox... Despite the fact that they had been on their phone for a good half hour, talking to their friends or texting while he'd been quietly waiting by their side to wait for them to decide to head to the next part of the two of theirs' date.
"You may kiss me, now." Mallory ordered.
And it was an order, not a request. But again, Vorca knew better than to refuse thee command. He stands up slowly and bends over, pressing a sweet and lingering kiss to their lips, per their request. "Yes, my love."
They hum and deepen the kiss as their arms come up to wrap around his neck, squeezing just tightly enough to be uncomfortable before pulling away "Carry me to the park?"
It was phrased like a request, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to refuse this, either. "Yes my love." He answers dutifully, not pointing out the fact that he was already carrying all of the purchases that his bonded had made, and had been doing so for hours, and that to balance them and all of their shopping was going to be difficult. But to point this out would cause them to react worse than they already have. "Please give me a moment to rearrange our shopping bags, so I have a free arm to carry you properly."
"So you can be thoughtful! It's so nice when you remember how to be a proper gentleman." Mallory coos, a sweet smile appearing on their face as they nuzzle him with genuine warmth and delight
Vorca is well practiced in ignoring the way that makes his heart lurch, and he forces a timid smile on his face as he nuzzles them back. He packs as much of the stuff into his pouches and pack as he can and maximizes the space in the reusable bags that they were using to carry everything in, so that he had the fewest number of bags.
"Are you done fiddling with our bags yet?" Mallory presses, an impatient huff in their voice.
"Almost my love. I do not want to spill any of the produce that we have purchased." Vorca assuages. He was sure that he had everything as well packed as he could, he couches down and extends on of his arms out and curls it partially, offering them a seat "Your ride to the park awaits, my radiant love."
They giggle and coo, sitting on the crook of his elbow and leaning into his chest, wrapping their arms around his neck once again "There's my chivalrous knight in shining ebony armor. I knew he'd make an appearance again." They plant a kiss on his cheek that... Burns somehow, for a moment.
He mentally shakes himself as he stands up, picking up the bags and walking with his bonded and their shopping over to the park, heading to one of the most secluded of the picnic tables, choosing the one in full shade, though there are splashes of bright, warm sunlight dappled on the table.
Vorca sets his bonded down in the middle of one of the benches, before methodically setting out the spread of food that they'd purchased for the lunch, kneeling so that the two of them were roughly the same height and asking "May I make something for you to eat with this bounty before us?" He was hoping that this would appease them.
Mallory beams and nods "Yes, make me a sandwich from these toppings, then I want your head resting on my lap while I eat. I know how much you enjoy cuddling me~!"
"Yes my love..." Vorca responds, smiling faintly as he obeys, making the sandwich to their exacting preferences before crawling under the table - as if he sat next to them it would destabilize the table and send everything flying - and resting his head on their lap, closing his eyes. Some of the agonizing headache he had from the far too bright light ebbs a little, causing a sigh of relief to leave him.
They very generously hand feed him bites of their sandwich and sips of water throughout the meal that they eat. They occasionally run a hand through his short hair, and it's almost enough to get him to relax. But only almost, as he is waiting for them to have another request of him at any moment.
Alright, open offer to anyone who wants to have some fun. Rimworld, 40k mod series, assorted imperial run. Anyone who likes may request 1 loyalist astartes character and/or 1 serf character. (Post-heresy only because I don't have any mods that make unmutated versions of the traitor legions.)
Suggest traits and skills as much or as little as you like. Skills per here: https://rimworldwiki.com/wiki/Skills . Suggest traits if you want but I have multiple mods that add traits and backstories so if it's not vanilla rimworld I can probably still find something close. Basically, if I have a name and a rough description I can make something but you can add more detail too.
I make absolutely no promises there will not be gruesome deaths, soap opera level breakups and affairs, astartes tantrums because they had to eat without a table, and any other rimworld nonsense. I do promise to document what happens.
P.S. submissions accepted via DM/Comment/Reblog/Messenger Pigeon/Whatever.
(If I accidentally left anyone out feel free to jump in or tag them!)
Seated at the big table in her outdoor kitchen Rose looked up from the essay she was proofreading, taking in at the group of scouts and one niece sudiously writing or typing. Mirak had decided co-opt Tristian along to get his first draft of the essay for their nightclass proofread while Kara worked on her enterance essay for her application to medical radiology techician program. Rose hadn't comented when two of the other primaris scouts in the night class, Rolf and Ian Holt had joined them to write and engage in proofreading. Primaris scouts never went anywhere in groups of less than two or three if they could at all help it. Honestly she wouldn't be surprised if some of the Cryptid Scouts had come out of the woods to stay close, or if any of the scouts from base came to join them.
Rolf looked down nervously at the red pen editing marks on his paper. "I'm terribly sorry for my error mamzel err Lady Beauchamp. I won't repeat it."
Rose gently laid her hand on his remaining arm in reasurance speaking in high gothic. "Easy, the point of the assignment on your rubric is to turn in a polished first draft. You're doing mostly alright. It's mainly the English homophones that a catching you up. Remember t-h-e-r-e, refers to location, t-h-e-i-r is the third person plural possive pronoun, and t-h-e-y-apostrophe-r-e is a contraction of they are." Rose smiled encouragingly. "Their, There and They're are something native English speakers struggle with."
She might have said more but the noises of the forest trailed off into nothing.
Lullaby glances to the honestly impressive fuck off gun, and flinches slightly.
Images they'd rather not imagine flit across their mind, namely every Chaos or Renegade aligned Marine they know and love getting holes blown or stabbed through them by this so called King, and them being powerless to stop it.
But they've got a chance. He hasn't ripped into Khopesh or Mirak, Yet. He's even given the benefit of providing answers as to why Tristan has spoken up for them.
So you speak.
"You wanna know why a Nightlord saved Tristan? Because that's how things work around here." The Baseline says, words clipped but firm.
"Dr. Rose means it when she says All types of Marines are here. They live, they love, they coexist." Lullaby declares. "Because Everyone from the most rabid bloodthirsty follower of Khorne to the most Zealous Imperial Loyalist knows if they Start shit it will reduce Terra to ashes and wastes."
Lullaby stands straighter. "Khopesh is from the Time of the Great Crusade. Mirak from not long after, relatively, anyway. And he's pre-heresy. Use that as justification of them being 'Different' if you must." The psycher grunts. "There is No Imperium. No other worlds. No space travel to take us beyond our own solar system. There's not even an Emperor or if he's here he's not made himself known and Nobody has found his ass yet."
"There's us. This world. And the clunky, cluttered weird tenuous arrangement that keeps Everyone physically alive and able to actually Live for once in their misbegotten existences that You and Your Father forced them into!"
The atmosphere is heating, sparks are ticking and clicking, the dome feels like the air is becoming wavy and painful. Lullaby continues bearing their proverbial fangs. Their mouth feels like they imagine biting down onto electrically charged gold would.
"You're here now. And I don't know what you faced before you arrived but honestly it doesn't really matter." They stand in front of the two Nightlords.
"A Loyalist nearly killed Tristan and Has killed other Primaris. A Nightlord saved him. And I owe my life to Multiple Chaos Marines because a Custodes decided it didn't want to bond with me and would rather leave me dead on the ground from a broken neck. Which it did Not need to do to accomplish it's goal by the way." Lullaby states darkly.
"Also you're bonded. That's why you feel so protective over Rudy. Congratulations~" Lullaby huffs with a sarcastic flourish of their hands. "If you want more details on how bonds work I'm happy to explain them. I'm...somewhat of an expert."
Lion makes a sound that's half a laugh and half a huff. "I found myself once already in an era where the Imperium was effectively dead, at least in the regions beyond the great rift. I killed threats to the people before the Emperor ever came to find me, and when I woke up on worlds long separated from Terra. My purpose is to kill whatever threatens humanity." That last line comes out with a light growl. "But I will listen before targeting anyone. I know some of my sons have taken up certain actions in my name before without my approval. Now tell me about this loyalist who tried to kill Tristan." The final sentence is delivered in a perfectly calm tone. He's trying to tone down the intimidation factor. He's not very good at it. Mostly because he's not really doing anything so much as kind of existing at them.
None of this is leaving any doubt that he's highly dangerous and perfectly willing to follow through on his threat. But the way his aura flickers around the grey in his hair and the lines across his face carries a light sense of...regret?
Chilling as the primarch's words words were, Rose understood. She recognized her own ruthless protective streak over the ones she loved taken to it's ultimate conclusion in unmitigated act, then magnified to cover the entire species. And if moving forward with the stack of official pamphlets, not the ones she'd scribble translations on as she was learning Gothic, put her between Lion and Lullaby, Kara, Mirak and Kopesh? Well she was who she was after all. She gave Lullaby's shoulder a squeeze of solidaridy as she manuvered past.
Rolf was ahead of her though. Physicaly as well as metaphoricaly. Ian too moving protectivly at her side. Probably to grab her incase she did something precipitious.
The one armed Black Templar Scout's grin was visciously beatific. "The Brudder-Murdering Traitor Bastard Petras was excounicated from the chapter on Terra and beaten mostly to death for his crimes by Grandmaster Lord Sigismund, Lord El'Johnson. The discovery of the killing field where Tristan dug himself out of what the fucker intend to be his grave has postponed his death sentence since there was obvious evidence of mutiple distinct modus operandi. I watched him be taken into Alliance custody for questioning for names of accomplices and locations of other mass graves." His voice took on a
"Near the midway point of the last century shortly after the first time humanity split the atom, the majority Factions of Astartes Formed an Alliance to enforce a cease fire and to protect the Terra and it's inhabitants, my lord." Ian gently took the stack of pamphlets from Rose and passed them up, and up, to the primarch. "My elder brothers have prepared a series explanatory pamphlets on behalf of the alliance for comers for new arrivals while waiting for a welcoming committee to provide a more detailed briefing."
Lion took the pamphlets, squeezing Tristan so hard it was surprising he didn’t break. Only relaxing his hold when Tristan made a pained noise.
“Sigismund is here? Good. Rogal’s First Captain is quite the asset.” Lion took a deep breath, holding out his sword to Rolf, followed by his gun. “This sounds like the sort of headache I do not want to be armed for.” Clearly the Primarch was beyond furious, but trying to keep himself from acting rashly.
“Who is doing the interrogation? Would they need a hand?” Lion continued, as Tristan explained how the Night Lords had found him, and helped him out of the pit. Taken him to the clinic. And how Mirak had taken him under his wing.
From the sheer loathing in Lion’s voice at the mention of Petras, he might have found a new Most Hated Astartes.
Having turned over his weapons, Lion started scanning the pamphlets. Looking like he was absorbing the whole contents extremely quickly.
“Why was that fatherless savage Petras trying to kill loyal Astartes?” He asked softly while reading.
"Because they couldn't handle the fear of being replaced." Lullaby remarks dryly, now decidedly more calm. "I'm sure you can see the visible difference between say... Mirak and Khopesh's heights and those of Rolf, Tristan and Ian. This isn't just because of variance in Astarte Production."
"I don't know the exact timelines. I probably can't even comprehend them. But I do know this." Lulls explains. "The Primarch of the Ultramarines woke up, saw the State of the Imperium and went Fuck! We need more soldiers and we need them Faster and Bigger! And I'm sure he said it Exactly that way."
Despite the tension Khopesh laughs, though he also tries to stifle it. Mirak's shoulders shake as he tries to contain his, because Khopesh laughing is making him want to as well.
"And the First Borns, had every conceivable reaction from 'Oh yeah that's helpful, welcome to the fight little big brothers' To 'We think you're secret enemies so we will haze you into oblivion and use you like meat shields and just Generally make your existence a living hell until you die.'" Lullaby crosses their arms tightly. "Of course I firmly believe they were just jealous and paranoid and projected those feelings onto the Primaris. In Petra's case there was the Added issue that he's ah...getting high on something he really Really shouldn't have touched."
Lion raises an eyebrow and it's actually Khopesh who chimes in.
"He's been drinking on that Dark Prince ichor Slanneshi's like to go on about. Likely didn't help his already sadistic tendencies." Khopesh makes a bleh face. "Nasty fucker with nasty blood. Tasted like insects and burnt sugar. Glad I didn't swallow any when I ripped into him with me teeth."
Lullaby turns to him, and gently holds his hand. "As am I." They say softly.
They do Not like the idea of Khopesh getting addicted to something like that.
"I am quite sure there were far more discussions of theoreticals and practicals involved than that." Lion raises one eyebrow. "Guilliman always tended to assume that everyone else saw things the way he did."
Elsewhere, at Stone Flame base, Kerubiel and Belus are frantically trying to clean up their armor, quintuple-checking their weapons, and otherwise generally attempting to look like good scouts.
Warnings: astartes x astartes, divorce, betrayal (mentioned), murder (mentioned), violence (mentioned), please ask me to tag something if I've missed it!
Summary: Avan and Nyxra get a divorce. Neither of them are happy about this, but Avan will not let himself be oath-bound to a traitor any longer.
"So you plan on forsaking the vows that you made to me? The promises that we swore before our brothers, under the purview of our primarch? One of those vows was to never forsake me, should you have the choice to do so." Nyxra accused, his eyes widening - all six of them - as he stared unblinkingly at his husband.
Avan's gaze was steady, and his voice calm "You forsook your vows first, when you abandoned the Imperium and first participated in the orbital bombardment of Isstvan, then came to try and slay me personally when the bombs that you and your fellow traitors tried to slay me."
"But that was so long ago! And you even survived the attempt. What's marriage without the occasional fight or lovers' spat? I have missed you terribly, my hearts. And you really should ditch serving the false emperor - there are so many better and more richly rewarding things that you could be doing with your life. I am digging the matte black armor though. You look very sexy in it." Nyxra purrs, his eyes shining with mirth and want as he sauntered closer to his husband, tails flicking behind his back, wings extending behind him, to show off the full glory of his ascendant form.
"It was less than a week ago for me." Avan countered, his eyes narrowing a little as he gave into the temptation to cross his arms over his chest as he continued to glower at the fucker who had revealed who he truly was long ago. He let out a low, warning rumble "Do not approach any closer, unless you want to get intimately acquainted with my sword."
Nyxra waggled his eyebrows at his grumpy husband "I am already intimately acquainted with your sword, lover mine."
"Not that sword, this one, you bastard." Avan growled, unsheathing his power sword and levelling it at the heavily mutated Emperor's Child, thumb on the power crystal, about to turn it on. "The only reason why I have asked to speak with you, before a council of my brothers and yours, is to renounce the oaths of close kinship and romantic care that I once swore to you. You have broken those oaths when you tried to have me and my brothers murdered, when you publicly betrayed the oaths of fealty we swore to the Imperium of Man, and the Emperor of Mankind."
"That happened in the far future! Our slates are wiped clean when we arrive here, the alliance says so." Nyxra protested "I very much would like to be able to reconnect with you once again, my love. I missed you very much."
"You tried to murder me less than a week ago! I will not absolve you of those crimes!" Avan snarled, his eyes flashing "I am still recovering from the injuries you inflicted upon me. I will not hold to the oaths that you broke first."
Nyxra pouts a little, his eyes shining with sorrow and heartbreak "Are... Are you sure that you want to do this? Would you at least allow me to try and woo you, once your wounds have healed?"
"No! I am still rightly furious at you for the fact that you tried to murder me! Not just with bombs, but I very keenly remember you hunting me down and the furious fight that we got into because you'd decided to become a slave to the false gods of deception and betrayal!" Avan hissed "You cut off my mechadendrites, you fucking fuck!" The Iron Hand was not going to let that go, especially as the technology level of this place and era was such that replacing them was going to be nearly impossible. He'd reluctantly allowed the apothecaries to remove what had been left of them and the attachment points where they were set in his body ached. He was struggling to adjust to having half the number of limbs he usually did.
"But that was so long ago for me. And you're alive and I've missed you ever so much, husband of mine." Nyxra coos, trying to move closer to his irate husband. He knew that if he held his grumpy husband in close the other would melt in his arms and stop being so utterly ridiculous. He did not regret much in his service to the radiant Slaanesh, but killing his husband while he had been so newly inducted into their service and the hedonistic thrills of everything was so vibrant and overwhelming... The Emperor's Child could admit that he hadn't been thinking clearly at the time.
Some of his brothers had injured and knocked out their loyalist spouses from other legions and brought them aboard The Pride Of The Emperor who had been down in the fighting on Isstvan, and later during other engagements as they fought the forces who had been blind to the true nature of the corpse on the golden throne. He hadn't done that, and it had been somethign that he had very much regretted. And now he had the chance to once again have his husband by his side!
But from the angry growling and deep scowling... Nyxra suspected that he was being too impulsive and impatient. Again. As much as it hurt his hearts to say the words, he knew that they would appease Avan and the brothers nearby, some of whom looked as though they were seconds away from trying to shoot him. So he smiled sadly (a perfect, beautiful thing, showing off the half dozen fangs he had grown in the millennia the two of them had been parted by death's cruel embrace) and said "If an annulment of our partnership and bond is what you truly want, then I shall agree to it."
Avan nods, the scowl on his face softening just a little. "Good. Then we are as strangers to one another. While this is unlikely to be the last time that we encounter one another - there is only so much space on Terra after all - there will be no references to the past that we once shared together. I will treat you as a strange heretic, and you will treat me as a loyalist you do no know. And... From your current appearance, I doubt I do know you. Not as you are. Perhaps I never truly did."
Was that a bit of... Melancholy in his beloved's voice? Regret and longing? Nyxra suppressed a grin. For all his talk of emotional distance and burying of the past, he could tell that the other did not truly mean the words that he said. "If that is what you want, then I shall abide by your desire." For now. The beginnings of a plan are taking root in his mind, and he has more or less learned that delayed gratification, while an agonizing thing to do, rather than the fast and quick gratification it would be to close the distance between them and kiss him on the lips and remind him of why they fit so well together...
If he showed that he could behave, his Avan might relearn to trust him faster, which was the goal. He wanted his husband back in his life and arms, so he says "I will do my best to respect that, though I may not always succeed. And I would like to see you again, when you are ready." There, that was so very generous of him, and should appease the grumpy and watchful brothers and cousins watching the two of them like a hawk.
He could see the surprise in more than a few faces that he was accepting this rejection with as much grace as he was. Nyxra had plans, and not being immediately pegged as problematic entity when it came to his beautiful and wonderful husband so that they wouldn't try to move him to a different region or continent was a key part of his strategy that he was starting to come up with to win back his husband.
Honey knocks on the door to Mouse and Hura’s residence. She's got a bundle of sunflowers in one hand, and and a reusable shopping bag in the other. She’d found a roadside stand selling baseline and astartes goods and decided to to share the bounty with Darsas’s brothers. Darsas, of course, was at home happily munching on a basket of fresh tamales while he tended to his garden.
"Hallo Ms Honey," Hura says with a nod as opens the door and gestures her in, "Oh what lovely flowers! Where did you get them?"
"I'd gone out to visit a client and there was a roadside stand selling them on the way back. Had an astartes with armor like yours and Darsas's. Bigger though. Here, I got some lavender tea and a carrot cupcake for Mouse too, and a jar of astartes-grade moonshine for you." Honey responded as she walked in the door. She did like to check on Mouse periodically, with her pregnancy. Hura was a perfectly competent apothecary, but Honey wasn’t convinced he was the type of emotional support a pregnant gal needed.
"Thank you, we shall enjoy them," Hura says taking some of the lavender tea and the bottle of astartes-grade moonshine, "Oh? Got a name or a look of him?"
"Honestly, biggest astartes I've seen yet, and I've seen some pretty big ones! Wings too, like a giant moth, and a scythe on his shoulder." Honey says. "Didn't seem to want to talk much, had a scarf over his face. The stand had a girl running the register, maybe 13 or so, and a younger boy. I got the feeling he was mostly making sure no one caused any problems."
Hura keeps his tone light. He is definitely not panicking. "... oh? Would you say over 10 feet tall?" He already knows the answer.
Honey thinks for a moment. "Yeah, I'd say so. Think I heard the boy call him Mor-mor? You know the way children do when they can't say a name right. Kid can't have been more than 7 at the oldest."
"Mhmm... the name is likely Mortarion. If you’ll excuse me, I… need to make a few phone calls.” The slow cadence covered up Hura swearing internally in every language he knows. "You should... let Dar know. I- will need to call Torglite. Where did you meet 'mor-mor'?"
"I had a client on the reservation, the stand was just outside, where Orchard Lane and Old Mission Road cross over." Honey provided the directions. “Old friend of yours? Planning on organizing a welcome committee?”
“Something like that.” Hura responds noncomittally. Sending a high-urgency message to Zariel to clear the area before any of the more panicky loyalists happen upon a demon primarch. “You should probably keep this to yoursef, other than me and Torglite and Darsas. Mortarion has a reputation that might…panic some of the young ones if they found out too soon.” He glances out at her car. "I can take the other bag to Torglite, if you like, since I need to visit him anyway."
Honey is about to say something, but she can tell when Hura isn’t saying something, and he can be so incredibly stubborn when he doesn’t want to explain. “Alright. There’s another jar for Torglite in there, and a couple of mushroom pies for him to share with his person.” She’ll ask Darsas if he knows anything else about this.
Honey knocks on the door to Mouse and Hura’s residence. She's got a bundle of sunflowers in one hand, and and a reusable shopping bag in the other. She’d found a roadside stand selling baseline and astartes goods and decided to to share the bounty with Darsas’s brothers. Darsas, of course, was at home happily munching on a basket of fresh tamales while he tended to his garden.
"Hallo Ms Honey," Hura says with a nod as opens the door and gestures her in, "Oh what lovely flowers! Where did you get them?"
"I'd gone out to visit a client and there was a roadside stand selling them on the way back. Had an astartes with armor like yours and Darsas's. Bigger though. Here, I got some lavender tea and a carrot cupcake for Mouse too, and a jar of astartes-grade moonshine for you." Honey responded as she walked in the door. She did like to check on Mouse periodically, with her pregnancy. Hura was a perfectly competent apothecary, but Honey wasn’t convinced he was the type of emotional support a pregnant gal needed.
"Thank you, we shall enjoy them," Hura says taking some of the lavender tea and the bottle of astartes-grade moonshine, "Oh? Got a name or a look of him?"
"Honestly, biggest astartes I've seen yet, and I've seen some pretty big ones! Wings too, like a giant moth, and a scythe on his shoulder." Honey says. "Didn't seem to want to talk much, had a scarf over his face. The stand had a girl running the register, maybe 13 or so, and a younger boy. I got the feeling he was mostly making sure no one caused any problems."
Hura keeps his tone light. He is definitely not panicking. "... oh? Would you say over 10 feet tall?" He already knows the answer.
Honey thinks for a moment. "Yeah, I'd say so. Think I heard the boy call him Mor-mor? You know the way children do when they can't say a name right. Kid can't have been more than 7 at the oldest."
"Mhmm... the name is likely Mortarion. If you’ll excuse me, I… need to make a few phone calls.” The slow cadence covered up Hura swearing internally in every language he knows. "You should... let Dar know. I- will need to call Torglite. Where did you meet 'mor-mor'?"
"I had a client on the reservation, the stand was just outside, where Orchard Lane and Old Mission Road cross over." Honey provided the directions. “Old friend of yours? Planning on organizing a welcome committee?”
“Something like that.” Hura responds noncomittally. Sending a high-urgency message to Zariel to clear the area before any of the more panicky loyalists happen upon a demon primarch. “You should probably keep this to yoursef, other than me and Torglite and Darsas. Mortarion has a reputation that might…panic some of the young ones if they found out too soon.” He glances out at her car. "I can take the other bag to Torglite, if you like, since I need to visit him anyway."
Honey is about to say something, but she can tell when Hura isn’t saying something, and he can be so incredibly stubborn when he doesn’t want to explain. “Alright. There’s another jar for Torglite in there, and a couple of mushroom pies for him to share with his person.” She’ll ask Darsas if he knows anything else about this.
