Lion El’Jonson
He enters Ikea like it’s a hostile territory. He doesn’t trust the arrows on the floor, the staged living rooms and the fact that there’s only one obvious path through the building.
He vanishes within ten minutes and somehow when the others regroup there’s already a perfectly packed wardrobe waiting by the exit, paid for with no receipt trail anyone can verify. He has also identified four emergency exits, three staff-only corridors and one suspiciously weak ceiling tile.
Fulgrim
He loves the idea of Ikea until he sees the lighting. He walks into the showroom and immediately begins redesigning every room and spends two hours comparing nearly identical white curtains.
He doesn’t need a lamp, he needs the correct lamp, one that understands him and that says elegance without desperation. By the end he has purchased candles, mirrors, a chaise longue, six unnecessary pillows and a rug too pale to survive normal life. He also gets into a passive aggressive design debate with an employee who just wanted to restock tealight holders.
Perturabo
Perturabo hates Ikea because the instructions are insulting. He opens the manual for a wardrobe, sees the little smiling figure with a screwdriver and takes personal offense. He doesn’t need numbered steps and a cheerful cartoon man telling him not to assemble alone. He assembles the furniture without instructions perfectly then disassembles it because the joint tolerances offend him.
He explains how the entire system could be improved if anyone in the building possessed vision, discipline or basic structural ambition. Nobody asked. He leaves having bought nothing but somehow having made three shelving units stronger.
Jaghatai
He doesn’t understand why the store is designed to slow him down. He enters at normal walking speed and exits at cavalry velocity, the arrows on the floor become a racetrack, the marketplace becomes a tactical hazard full of breakable glass and slow families.
He doesn't browse, he strikes. He grabs exactly what he needs, nobody knows how he found the warehouse section so quickly and how he checked out before everyone else. He is already loading the car while Guilliman is still comparing drawer.
Russ
Russ treats Ikea like a raid. He loves the meatballs and tests every sofa by throwing himself onto it with enough force to make nearby couples flinch. He keeps saying “this one is sturdy” after performing acts no furniture warranty was designed to survive. He tries to buy a massive faux fur rug because it “has the spirit of a beast” (it's polyester, he doesn’t care).
He gets lost, refuses to admit it and eventually starts following the smell of food back to the cafeteria. He absolutely tries to pronounce the Swedish product names aloud and makes them sound like war chants.
Dorn
Dorn respects Ikea, it has clear routes, efficient storage and acceptable load bearing concepts for civilian domestic use. He doesn’t enjoy it exactly but he approves of it.
He measures everything. Everything. He brought a tape measure, a notebook and the exact floor plan of the room he intends to furnish. He doesn’t believe in ‘maybe it will fit’ and doesn’t make impulse purchases. He buys one single cabinet and assembles it at home with grim silence and no leftover screws.
Konrad Curze
He shouldn’t be there. The showroom lighting makes him worse. The fake rooms make him worse. The idea of a perfect little staged life with clean blankets and framed prints makes him much worse. He wanders through the staged showrooms like a ghost of domestic judgment.
“This room has seen betrayal”, he whispers beside a children’s bunk bed. A young couple trying to buy a sofa hears him predict their divorce with unsettling accuracy. He likes one very ugly lamp because it casts shadows like prison bars. Security tries to follow but loses him in the wardrobe section.
Sanguinius
He is kind to every employee, helps short people reach high shelves and gently mediates a couple’s argument over dining chairs. Children stare at him like he is a Disney prince who got lost in home goods.
He says every staged room has ‘a small dream of peace in it’ and suddenly everyone feels emotional about affordable shelving. He buys soft blankets, elegant glassware and something for everyone else because he noticed what they liked. The cashier cries and doesn't know why.
Ferrus
He goes straight to the furniture construction details and ignores everything else. He picks up a chair and judges it like an enemy combatant. He isn’t impressed by the quality and says it out loud frequently.
However he grudgingly admits there is a certain ingenuity in mass distribution but immediately ruins the compliment by saying the actual product is acceptable kindling.
Angron
Angron lasts seven minutes. The maze layout enrages him. The crowds enrage him. The slow walkers enrage him. The arrows enrage him. The fact that the exit is not immediately visible is an act of war.
Someone blocks the aisle to compare lamps and that’s the moment the building encounters true danger. He doesn’t shop, he escapes(through furniture if necessary). He leaves with nothing except a dented cart and a chair he broke by accident and now owns by policy.
Guilliman
Guilliman is horrifyingly good at IKEA. He has a list, measurements and has prechecked stock online. He has mapped the route and knows when to stop for lunch to avoid peak cafeteria traffic.
He buys a complete home office setup and somehow also reorganizes the checkout line so it moves faster. An Ikea manager offers him a job and he considers it.
Mortarion
Bright rooms? Fake plants? The promise that life can be made pleasant with a side table and proper lighting? Disgusting.
He does like one thing tho, the practical storage bins. They are ugly, durable, stackable and joyless, absolutely perfect. He also likes the cafeteria lingonberry sauce but refuses to admit this. Fulgrim sees him buying a houseplant and almost faints but Mortarion claims it is for ‘air quality’ (It’s a half dead plant from the discount section).
Magnus the Red
Magnus is fascinated by the product names and starts trying to identify linguistic patterns and cultural roots until he decides the showroom path is a symbolic initiation journey through domestic consciousness and turns a trip to Ikea into forbidden scholarship.
He buys bookshelves, so many bookshelves, lamps for reading and a suspicious mirror he claims has interesting spatial qualities. The instructions say to not skip steps, he skips steps. The bookshelf still stands but now it hums faintly and one shelf opens into somewhere else.
Horus
He starts helping everyone make decisions, his taste is good, his advice is warm and his confidence is infectious.
He befriends employees, customers, lost children, annoyed spouses and one man having a breakdown over wardrobe doors. He gives a speech in the kitchen section about building a home worthy of those who trust you. People applaud but nobody knows why.
Lorgar
He finds meaning in Ikea and that’s exactly the problem. Lorgar sees the arrows on the floor and calls them a pilgrimage route. He sees the staged bedrooms and speaks of humanity’s yearning for sanctuary. He sees the assembly instructions and says that “the self is also assembled from parts.”
He spends an hour in the candle section having a spiritual experience. He buys candles, bookshelves, framed prints and a dining table large enough for disciples. Later he writes a devotional text titled The Little Allen Key and the Soul.
Vulkan
He loves the children’s section, the soft toys, the little staged bedrooms and how people can buy useful things for their homes without needing a noble title or a fortress.
He tests every chair gently and compliments the craftsmanship kindly. He helps strangers load heavy boxes and repairs a display shelf because he can’t bear to leave it crooked. He buys blankets, cookware, lamps and half the stuffed animals because they looked lonely. He also insists everyone eats before leaving.
Corvus Corax
Corvus is uncomfortable in Ikea because it’s too bright, crowded and too full of artificial domestic normalcy.
Naturally he becomes impossible to track and appears only when needed. He buys blackout curtains, a desk, a plain bedframe and one very good office chair. Nobody sees him pay but he has a receipt. He also discovers that several employees are being mistreated by management and somehow the store unionizes by closing time.
Alpharius Omegon
Alpharius came to Ikea for one bookshelf, later at least six people are seeing leaving with that bookshelf and none of them are sure whether they are Alpharius.
He swaps product tags, rearranges arrows, makes one showroom look exactly like another showroom three aisles away. He convinces Guilliman that his inventory list is wrong. The box he brings home contains no furniture, just another smaller box with coordinates inside.
Most Leftover Screws:
1. Russ (says they were optional)
2. Fulgrim (“the final form is more elegant without them”)
3. Magnus (“the missing screws are structurally present in a higher sense.”)
4 .Angron doesn’t have leftover screws because he never opened the box and punched the chair into shape.
5. Alpharius has extra screws from furniture nobody bought.
19 September 1962. English Electric Lightning F1 crashed near Hatfield aerodrome. De Havilland test pilot, George Aird, ejected at low altitude and landed through the roof of a nearby tomato greenhouse. The moment was captured by photographer Jim Meads.
A gift for my wife for Victoria Day. The art is based on a beautiful story where opposites are drawn to each other and form a beautiful, complementary union.
Warsmith and ship captain Dominica White.
Stolen from a Word Bearers ship, the captain managed to steal the heart of an old Iron Warrior. She quickly fell in love with the new ship and masterfully navigates it.