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@primarchstory
Slaps Warhammer muses
these muses can slip in so much toxic [literally] in their bodies. Indie Multi muse of Warhammer 40k series. written by nugget. 27 years old.
A focus on 30k era before everything went to shit.
Current muses on hand -Rogal Dorn, Mortarion/ Lorgar/ Perturabo/ Angron/ Lion/ Angron
crossover please.
themes of space, what it means to be human, the denial of ever being human and family drama.
Bio
rules
"Unlike you, I have far greater concerns than my personal appearance."
He's never understood the point of it. Personal hygiene is a social construct invented by humans and he is a son of the Emperor. A superior being. One above superficial notions. A preening dandy like the Lion wouldn't understand. He's almost as bad as Fulgrim with his well groomed mane, his shining armor and those idiotic notions of honor. ( A rather virulent delusion among his kin, the Night Haunter has come to learn. One that would have excised as a parasite at the start of the crusade, its entrails thrown to the scavengers. )
Why, the Lion practically reeks of this world's human filth after all the brown-nosing he's been doing. He looks like he could use a bath himself. With a mischievous warning, Curze arm shoots out at the other primarch in an attempt to shove him into the prepared bath.
"Now do me a favor. Lick yourself clean, you noisome feline. I don't want to share a world with someone smelling of a highborn boot."
"The more one smells of normal humans, the more...comfortable they are. I learned, so your efforts to not appear more like them is a insult to the emperor, for remember it is them and not us that will inherit his kingdom."
Lion attunement to the wants of the emperor also meant he knew the needs and ultimate goal, that the future belongs to humans who are base and standard size.
The lion is still, unmoving, unbending. -for now-
"Get, in the bath."
"I smell just fine, brother. Perhaps you're the one stinking up this mountain."
Curze shoots him an annoyed look. He's long since become accustomed to the scent of old blood, to the point where he hardly notices it. The Lion could learn a lesson or two in minding his own buisness.
"Why don't you roll in the grass with the wild beasts before you rot my nose with your stench. There's a rather comfortable patch right over there."
He points out of the window to an open field by the river, neglecting to tell the Lion about the unusual properties of this world's flora. When disturbed, a number of plants will emit a chemical cocktail mimicking the feeding pheromones of certain insect species as a deterence to herbivores. The other primarch can learn for himself when the vile creatures begin swarming around his head.
I hope you go bald like Horus. he thinks without much vile on it, his hatred for his own brother only extending so far, his understanding of how people think being mildly undeveloped compared to the rest of his siblings as he grew up wild and in charge.
"I rather a hot bath, something foreign to you I suppose."
His ear twitches like that of a lion for a moment, observing the other with intentions less then human. More animal in nature, like a beast playing at human skin. Well a large human.
"Take a bath, before I force you into this water basin."
To be fair, the other had a bad smell that only those with sensitive noses could pick up, certainly something the normal people could do. But Lion is more tired, so to speak and doesn't put much force into his words like he used to.
@ave-dominus-nostramos
----starter call------
Lion vc: I live, but at what cost.
I LIVE.
LION EL JOHNSON BALDING HAIR. THAT IS ALL.
angron vc smash
"And there is the fundamental argument between him and I." She pointed, after taking another sip of tea.
"You're not a cog, Rogal. You have a role to play, but you ain't a cog. He put you in charge of Terra, the cradle of humanity, because he trusts you to make the right call." Trust is ...the incorrect word, but the closest she could use in under a paragraph. "Question I have is, do you have the adaptability to make those kinds of calls, or are you just going to rely on statistics rather than what makes you human?"
"Primarchs have never been human."
It was the harsh truth, but primarchs, no matter what could not understand normal baseline humans. The castodes could not act beyond what they were ordered, and that was the only difference. But primarchs, they were never designed to interact normally with the world.
"Primarchs were created for specific purposes in mind. I understand that much , and to go beyond that role..."
He need not mention the erased primarchs.
"I come here telling you I can't sleep, not that I need it. I also come here because I'm worried about you, Dorn. We had a saying, where I'm from. The world will keep on spinning, and the sun will rise tomorrow, so it's okay to take a moment to rest." she scowled at him.
"You work yourself like a beaten mule, and you're going to burn through hearts faster than The Emperor does whenever--" she trailed off, deciding to keep that detail to herself.
"Your worry is unneeded."
In the end, all the primarchs, he thinks will become useless after the great crusade is finished. Be it a hundred, a thousand years. All of them will be gone because the emperor in truth does not need them long term.
He keeps such thoughts silent.
"What the emperor does, is not my business, I only need my duty, and to do what is ordered."
Brows knit in to an angry scowl. "What's that supposed to mean? You don't know how much I do, or do not, need to sleep. And are you saying I waste my time?" This was a trap. Merediths personality was both bane and boon in negotiations, and it was purposefully made unclear how human she was, exactly. Improved, for sure. But her augmentations were kept secret to preserve the best strategic advantages she had.
She had no idea if The Emperor felt inclined to share with the Primarch any, if not all, of those upgrades in case of emergency. Such as the fear she might turn on them.
"So you come here, feigning exhaustion to waste time when you can be working."
Work, thats the main thing that Dorn has. A extreme work ethic that never ends, because that is how he was designed and how he would die. By work, be it for the emperor duty , his work ethic is too huge that barely does he relax at all.
"you know my personality, and yet you take offense when I say what is expected from me."
"My god, you are boring." She was the only human to use that phrase anymore. It annoyed the Emperor to no end. He would engage in philosophical debate, which she would counter with a quick, curt, 'I don't care'.
"I know you can go longer, but the probability of you slipping up goes up the more you stay...up..." She shook her head, exhaustion robbing her of all eloquence. "Point being, rest is important."
"It is because I don't waste time."
He also had that attitude of being curt to situations that don't require eloquence, he understands the need of it. To grand stand, to be important, but right now the situation doesn't call for it. Nor does it call for humor.
"Rest is important for you. I have no need of it."
The machine that is Terra...theres too much stuff that needs to be done to utterly rest.
"You can sleep in that couch, I have no need of it."
Well then. She should have expected this. "Not going to be mad because my sleepy brain misspelled generic again?" She folded her legs, still teasing the Primarch. Sad eyes beginning to form on her tired face.
She had some brass for being this brave. But the lass earned it through seniority, mostly. You don't come out of the Unification wars without something wrong with you. Being able to sass someone four times your size class is one trait.
Unfortunately Rogal Dorn of all people lacks the sense of humor to put any appreciation into this. After all he's Dorn and he's past the age where such tactics would work.
"The problem would lie with you. If that occurs , but you are ethical in your work to not make such a mistake. even in your exhaustion."
He's not even looking at her.
"I could make sad eyes. Or refuse to even try going back to bed until you do." She said with a smile, taking a sip of tea. "I'm behind on work anyway. So I have reasons to stay up as well."
"Do your work than, instead of resting with me."
It was a blunt response, his own way of saying that all your troubles and woes are on you instead of him. Besides he is utterly immune to sad eyes, she is possibly the only person who says such things...in any planet. To be fair, she's unique.
"Well, that, and I can't sleep." she mumbled, stirring her tea. Her two guards posting themselves outside the chamber. Noticeable bags had formed under her eyes, the toll her duties take apparent.
"So I came to bully you in to sleeping instead."
"And how so, would you bully me?"
this man has been kept awake by lesser things. Bullying him into sleeping is a impossible task with the way the emperor created all of them. More files were tossed neatly into the trash bin.
"My body would prevent such waste of time. "
Hands folded over her sleeping gown, The Guardian of The Cradle made her silent entrance. Ghostly eyes settling on the tea left out. "Watching the new cameras in the not so secret service tunnels again?"
Only way he would know of her coming, and to set out dandelion tea with full fat milk and the tiniest amount of sugar. Her usual blend when in long meetings with Malcador and the other high lords.
"I know why I'm up. Care to explain why you've been awake for four days?"
"A primarch can last longer than that. Even the weakest, you need not worry over that."
it was a response, at the very least. Blunt and to the point as Dorn goes through more files to add to his memories. Every single thing must be known before the next day, and everything that wasn't in Malcador vicinity needed to be checked on.
"Is that what brought you over? worry?"
