#goddessatina

[ask-astorath]

"You are an astartes, only a Slaaneshy cultist may complain about your equipment."

“They don’t much like the equipment I show them,” he said, indicating the power axe by his side, “Which is as it should be Miss.”

[ask-vox-hailer-boy]

"You are such a good little vox hailer, aren't you? Here, have some money to go buy something you like."

“t-thank you ma’am!” 

GUYS! 

WEE CAN BUY SSSO MANY NUGGETS AT MCEMPERORS PLAY PALACE!

[ask-abaddon-the-despoiler]

Send ✏️ for a letter from my muse

[ask-night-haunter]

Compliment me

“You don’t look annoying,” he said. He had never seen the woman before, what was he supposed to say?

[horrible-on-main]

Your muse walks in, finding mine tied up, gagged, and covered in blood and bruises. Send me their reaction. - "Oh, how the tables have turned ..."

Well that’s just perfect, isn’t it. Yet another someone with reason to hate me.

Loathing is strong enough to drown out the fear she probably should be feeling right now. Not that there’s much that she can do to express that other than growl wordlessly through the gag. Embarrassingly, she can feel her face flush red with humiliation and anger.

[kalle-and-lita]

Jealousy

For @goddessatina Prompt 14: Jealousy

A/N: Any canon muses are under my interpretation of the character, and mine alone and do not reflect those who RP the same character. 

~~

The party was lively, to say the least, and one Lita was certainly enjoying. It wasn't too often that she went to events such as these, as a gathering of the Primarchs was a rare occurrence indeed. But there were politics to discuss, war plans to go over, and when the Warmaster called for a gathering one was usually inclined to listen.

Her attendance had also been a bit of an unexpected development. Just earlier in the evening she'd been happily filing away paperwork for the Eighth Legion when his Highness had come barging into her office. Judging from the scowl on his face, he didn't seem at all pleased.

"Get ready.”

His curt order earned him an equally curt, but curious, reply,

"For what?"

He simply waved his hands, allowing two serfs to enter the room with various garments, "You'll be attending a gathering with me. Now get ready." He growled, leaving Lita with the serfs.

And so she eventually found herself at his side, hugging the far corner in every vain attempt to avoid conversations with his other brothers. Mortarion, Primarch of the Death Guard, had joined them not long ago. The pair of them spoke in low tones to each other, leaving Lita to hop softly from foot to foot.

Her drink was nearly empty, and not nearly strong enough to stave off her boredom. She had hoped that Atina would be in attendance, but so far had yet to see her good friend. Eventually, she became fed up, and politely excused herself to get more to drink. Easily she slipped in and out of the crowd in attendence. Remembrancers, and first officers alike, chatting and laughing as the party continued ever onward.

"Pardon me," a thick voice intruded upon Lita's thoughts as she refilled her drink, and she turned to find a Primarch she'd never met standing before her. He looked as if he'd been forged in fire, tall and terrifying, but there was a gentleness on his face that put her at ease, "Might you be Lita, Eighth Legion Representative?"

She dipped her head politely, "Indeed, Primarch...?"

"Vulkan, of the Salamanders."

Lita wasn't quite sure how long they stood and talked for. Their topics jumped and varied about, from Vulkan's home world to Lita's occupation and finally settling upon the topic of Lita's garden. They talked and talked about it for a good long while, the Primarchs interest very apparent.

"Brother, do tell me you're not going to demand all of this young woman's attention!"

Another voice joined them, and she turned to find another one of the Primarchs at her side. His skin was color of the rising sun, crimson and proud, a single eye gazing down at her in interest. This brother she knew.

Magnus the Red, Primarch of the Thousand Sons. She dipped her head in greeting,

"Young woman," she teased, "If I didn't know better, I would think you're trying to flatter me, Lord Magnus."

"Is it working?" He smiled,

"Only a little." She replied with a laugh.

"Ah, and here I had hoped to steal you away from my brother Konrad, I've heard of you, little human. Pardon my forwardness, but I believe your talents for speech would be in far better use in my Legion than that of the Eighth's. What say you?"

Lita simply shook her head in amusement, "Apologies, Lord Magnus, but there is little in this galaxy that would tear me away. My work is important, and my loyalty to my King far more so. I fear your attempts shall on deaf ears."

"A pity." Magnus mused into his drink, "I would speak with you all the same. That is, of course, if Vulkan has not already exhausted your powers of speech."

The three of them shared a laugh, "Of course not, Lord Magnus, though I pray you can keep up with me. I've been told I'm very hard to stop once I really get going."

"What's this, gathering around a beautiful flower amidst a room full of vagrants?"

A new Primarch had joined them, displaying colors of purple and gold paired with a pale face and even paler hair. He was pretty in a way, as if sculpted from marble, a charming smile painted upon his features

"A flower in a room full of vagrants?" Lita said, now noticing her drink was halfway empty again, "Why must you speak so ill of me, Lord Fulgrim? I don't believe I'm a vagrant."

"I agree," Magnus teased, silently offering Lita another cup of wine. She gratefully accepted, as the four of them delved into deep conversation. They laughed and teased, conversing on all manner of topics from art, to history, to everything under the sun. At some point, Lita realized she was losing her faculties, made evident when she swayed dangerously only to have Magnus reach out to steady her.

"I think, gentlemen," she spoke carefully, "I am done for the evening."

"So it would seem," mused Fulgrim, quickly replacing Lita's wine with water. She drank from it gratefully, "While I am sorry you must leave, do part with a promise that you'll come visit Chemos. If I may be so bold, I do believe you'll find it quite spectacular."

"No, no, say you'll come to Prospero. The view from the highest point in all of Tzica is most amazing." Argued Magnus hotly. Lita smiled all the same,

"Perhaps, if my busy schedule affords me the time. Now, if you'll excuse me."

They bid her farewell and parted their own ways as she did. In and out she dipped through the thinning crowd, back towards to the wall where she'd left her Primarch some hours before. Halfway there she found him right where she had left him, though Mortarion had seemingly long since departed.

"I wondered when you would deign to return to me." Her king commented coldly, and the cheerful mood Lita had previously found herself in died. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him,

"I am here now," she bit back just as coldly, narrowing her gaze upon him,

"Though I find it very difficult to believe I was so hard to find."

A nerve in his eye twitched at that, but he said nothing in return. Instead he pushed himself from the dark corner, his swift pace making for the exit of the room. She followed behind him dutifully back to their transport and back aboard the Nightfall. Once inside the main lift, and closed in a tight space with him, she could feel the cold radiating off him in waves.

"You reek of alcohol." He said eventually, making Lita's hair stand on end in fury.

"Apologizes, Your Highness," she fought the sneer as hard as she could, yet failed all the same, "Are there any other grievances you'd like to air, or shall we stew in furious silence all night?"

He said nothing, earning him a scowl as the lift finally slowed to a halt on the stateroom floor. Lita lifted the hem of her dress and swept past the Primarch in an effort to retire to her room. She didn't look back to see if he was following, but the tell tale sound of his footfalls told her that he was. She ignored him as she came to her stateroom door, keying in her code in furious silence as his cold aura still radiated off of him.

"Fits of jealousy are unbecoming of you." She finally said as her door hissed open. She lay a hand on the door to keep it from closing, turning back before she swept through with a furious glare up at him, "The next time you see fit to drag me off to one party or another do feel free to talk to me, otherwise just leave me be!"

The door hissed shut behind her, with a loud thud on the wall following shortly after. If she had to venture a guess, he'd probably hit the wall. In furious silence she discarded the dress in favor of a shower and more comfortable clothes, silently hoping that tomorrow they'd all be in better moods.

[ask-the-black-talons]

"I have never been with a member of your Legion. I do wonder how creative you can get in punishing my naughty self." she said with a smirk, her boldness undoubtedly reinforced by the drink she just finished.

Synthalia turned to look at the diminutive woman at her side and sneered, “If you truly do deserve punishment, I’d start by slicing off your face and attaching it to my left shoulderpad. While your still screaming I would start on other sensitive parts of your body until you pass out from the pain.” She seemed to realise something then and tilted her head a fraction.

“Unless you’re trying to suggest you wish to spend some private time with me, in which case you’re out of luck. I am not attracted to girls in that way... and I would probably just hurt you if I was.”

[askahzekahriman]

⛓

“I don’t want to do this,” Ahriman said. He had his orders however and he had to follow them, whether he agreed or not. He closed the collar around her slender neck with a click before he sealed it with a psychic pulse. Capturing others was not something he was overly comfortable with, it seemed base in his mind, however he had to do as he was told sometimes.

“For what it is worth, I am sorry,” he added. He picked up the chain that was attached to her collar and jerked his head. She could follow him at her will, he would only yank the chain if he had to. For now, she was his captive and there was nothing that could change that. If he had to, he would protect her from harm. Her dignity might not be intact but she would be safe.