#adeptvsastartes

[piperafterdark]

"That’s quite an entrance." @adeptvsastartes

The motorcycle screeched to a stop, back wheel swung into place, and Piper's heavy boot hit the ground as she parked within an inch of the sidewalk. The music blaring from the stereo stopped dead, and she sat up, shoulders rolling back to stretch before she pulled her helmet off and shook out her hair.

Her Yaiba Kusanagi should have been impressive, would have been, had it not been clearly salvaged from a scrap yard and put together with sheer determination and mismatched pieces. Whatever, it was hers.

She dismounted, tucking her helmet under her arm as she approached the mammoth of a man.

"Only way to show up." She said, casually knocking the back of her knuckles against his chest as she stepped past him. "Come on. You hungry? I'm starved, and this place has the only pancakes that are worth while in the city, if you ask me."

Tom's Diner. A classic.

[adeptvsimperialis]

Life is the Emperor's currency...

Spend it well.

Two indie Warhammer 40k RP Blogs featuring Lt. Demetrian Titus and Sgt. Valorem Gadriel @adeptvsastartes and @lookingforwcrd

as chronicled by Ken and Lapis.

respectively follow back/interact from @kcnhub and @captainseamech!

please read respective rules/about before interacting!

[dxrktidings]

A box was lifted over Titus's head. With a determined gaze, and after rigorous checking from the Victrix Guard over what this box was, the Primaris was able to walk in and place the box on his genefather's desk.

" My lo-- no, ah, father, " Titus began, looking up at him, " I had heard that in the ancient days of Holy Terra there was a day dedicated to fathers. I thought it necessary to... offer a gift. " Despite the stoicism on Titus's face, his cheeks visibly flushed like an embarrassed, shy child as he pointed to the box-- grand in design with the sigil of the Ultramarines on the front, adorned in golds and blues and hints of greens, making up feathers and wreaths.

Within it was not a weapon, not something for drinking, but... a gardening kit, carefully set up to be Guilliman's size. It was meant for Macraggean grapes, it looked like, and other little crops. " If you are not satisfied, I can get you something else. "

// @adeptvsastartes

Roboute was curious at first, watching as Titus placed the gift on his desk. His face was soft from wonder at the notion. It was such a kind gesture from the Lieutenant. There were those who took his role as their genefather more than just the Primarch of their legion. There were those who looked to him as any son would their father; Titus being among them.

He's careful as he opens the box as to not damage the delicate decoration of it. Though that wasn't entirely possible with the armor that constantly clung to his body to keep him alive.

A smile came to his face when he saw the tools. It reminded him of gardening with Tarasha as a boy. His face softened more at the memory.

"Thank you, Demetrian. I will make good use of these," Guilliman said, smiling at him.

[captainseamech]

@adeptvsastartes: ayhan twirling his hair: hey babe what r u wearing /j

             “Sh-Shut yer Emperor ass up, Ayhan! And stop using telepathy to flirt with me!”

[lookingforwcrd]

             He keeps getting ragebaited.

[extraordinarygrrls]

continued from here

Even being called 'serf was an unusual mercy for June. Psyker was usual, then followed by the Stray, the Freak, and the Lunatic. Sanctified or not, a psyker was still a psyker, and was therefore not to be trusted. She was not a serf, she didn't belong here, despite her position as a scribellum.

What was even more unusual was how Titus touched her. So careful, hesitant, not wanting to hurt her when few cared if they did. This only made her shed more tears, hands clutching onto the one that drew so close to her pale face.

June's hands were also scarred, the same ones from the sanctification process that littered her whole body, as if she was struck by lightning over and over. But they were freezing cold, mottled and clammy from weak circulation. Her mind was strong, her divination powers even stronger, but her body was frail and damaged. "Four gold studs..." She said, looking into his eyes with hers, deep and black as a porcelain doll's. "Two hundred years... Of fighting, of pain... all the pain, all that they've done to you..."

She usually spoke like this, trapped in her mind, in strange riddles. Normal for a psyker, they're on a faraway wavelength. "Taken apart, but back together... taken apart again..." Even as little boys, he was only a little boy... She was only little when they started, not even a child.

"I-I'm so sorry, my lord. Forgive me, please, forgive me. I forget myself."

@adeptvsastartes

[atlas-bound]

"Weeeeeeelllllllll..."

@adeptvsastartes

[wayward40k]

@adeptvsastartes, from [ here ]

Serge nodded along as Aurelius elaborated a little about his time as Warmaster. As a relatively young being, both by human and daemon standards, the seer had less knowledge of the Heresy than he'd liked, and the opportunity to learn was always welcome. It was, however, only a bonus while learning about his companion.

His eyes flicked to the cord that twitched, but no reaction from Aurelius got no reaction from the daemon. Serge then shrugged at the Primarch's words, a grin gracing his face.

"I'd argue you just need a good brain to be Warmaster," he pointed out, tapping at his own skull. "And in my humble and entirely unbiased opinion, you deserved the position and should have kept it."

The universe would certainly be in a different state, though for better or worse could easily be up for debate…