You're sitting in one of the Imperial Palace's smaller dining halls (which is still roughly the size of a cathedral) when Malcador finds you.
"The Emperor requires your presence," he says, looking more tired than usual.
"Is this about the thing with the Custodes and the-"
"No. Worse." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Just... come with me."
Ten minutes later you're standing in a gilded room facing the Master of Mankind himself who is radiating an energy that can only be described as "dad who just discovered online dating exists".
"I HAVE DECIDED" the Emperor announces, his psychic voice making the chandeliers shake "THAT IT IS TIME FOR MY SONS TO SETTLE DOWN."
"I'm sorry, what?"
Malcador hands you a drink. You're going to need it.
"I WANT GRANDCHILDREN. MANY GRANDCHILDREN. THE IMPERIUM NEEDS HEIRS. ALSO, SOME OF MY SONS ARE BECOMING INSUFFERABLE AND NEED THE HUMANIZING INFLUENCE OF A RELATIONSHIP." He gestures dramatically. "YOU ARE FRIENDS WITH THEM. YOU WILL PARTICIPATE IN... THE PRIMARCH MATCHMAKING."
"The what?"
"I HAVE ARRANGED A SERIES OF MEETINGS. THEY WILL ASK YOU QUESTIONS. YOU WILL ANSWER HONESTLY. WE SHALL SEE WHO YOU ARE MOST COMPATIBLE WITH." He leans forward, and you swear his psychic projection is grinning. "I SUPPORT POLYAMOROUS ARRANGEMENTS. MORE PARTNERS EQUALS MORE GRANDCHILDREN. IT IS SIMPLE MATHEMATICS."
"My Lord, I really don't think-"
"TOO LATE. THEY ARE WAITING IN THE NEXT ROOM. EXCEPT ANGRON, WHO I HAVE SEDATED."
"That's... probably for the best."
"NOW GO. MAKE ME PROUD. GIVE ME BEAUTIFUL PSYCHIC GRANDCHILDREN."
Malcador physically pushes you toward the doors. "For what it's worth" he mutters "I tried to talk him out of this."
The doors open. Inside you can see approximately eighteen Primarchs in various states of confusion, annoyance, and in Fulgrim's case, excitement. Guilliman is holding what appears to be a clipboard. Magnus is radiating smug amusement. Leman Russ is already shirtless for some reason.
This is your life now.
BEFORE WE BEGIN:
What's your immediate reaction?
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B
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G
Voting ended onFeb 24
A) "You know what? I've survived worse. Let's do this." (Confident and ready to see where this absolutely unhinged situation goes)
B) "Can I at least get some wine first? Like, a lot of wine?" (Trying to cope with humor and alcohol)
C) "WHICH ONE OF YOU TOLD YOUR DAD I WAS SINGLE?" (Accusatory but also kind of into the chaos)
D) Attempt to run. The door locks. Guilliman sighs. "Please don't make this harder than it needs to be." (Reluctant participant energy)
E) "So... is this like a speed dating thing or...?" (Genuinely trying to understand the logistics here)
F) Look directly at Magnus. "This was your idea, wasn't it?" (Blame the witch, it's always a safe bet)
G) "If I'm doing this, I have CONDITIONS." (Taking control of the situation like the badass you are)
"Counter-offer: They each tell me why I should choose them first."
The silence is deafening.
Then...
"EXCELLENT IDEA" the Emperor booms. "I LOVE IT. THIS WILL BE VERY ENTERTAINING."
"Father, that's not-"
"IN FACT, I'VE DECIDED SOMETHING."
Malcador makes a sound like a dying animal. "My Lord, please..."
"I'M JOINING THE MATCHMAKING."
"WHAT?!"
Every single Primarch shouts at once. You're pretty sure you actually felt your soul leave your body for a moment.
"My Lord" Malcador says very carefully, very quietly, in the voice of a man who has reached his absolute limit "you are... the Emperor of Mankind. You created them via genetic engineering. This is... inappropriate on many levels. Way too much levels."
"MALCADOR, DON'T BE RIDICULOUS. I'M NOT THEIR FATHER IN THE TRADITIONAL SENSE. I'M MORE LIKE... A VERY INVOLVED CREATOR. THERE'S A DIFFERENCE."
"THERE'S REALLY NOT" at least twelve Primarchs shout.
"BESIDES, I WANT GRANDCHILDREN. IF MY SONS ARE INCOMPETENT AT WOOING, I'LL SHOW THEM HOW IT'S DONE."
"This is a nightmare" Mortarion mutters and for once everyone agrees with him.
"ALSO, MALCADOR IS JOINING TOO."
"WHAT?!"
The Sigillite drops his bottle. It shatters on the floor. He doesn't even notice.
"My Lord, I am your right hand, I am thousands years old, I have work to do."
"YOU'RE ALWAYS COMPLAINING ABOUT BEING LONELY."
"I'm lonely because everyone I know keeps dyinf! This is NOT the solution!"
"CONSIDER IT A TEAM BUILDING EXERCISE."
"I'm going to my personal alcohol vault " Malcador says flatly, standing up. "I have a room . A whole room. Full of bottles I've been saving for the worst day of my life." He looks around at the assembled Primarchs, at you, at the Emperor. "This is that day."
He walks toward a door that you're pretty sure wasn't there before.
"THE DOOR IS LOCKED, MALCADOR."
Malcador's hand stops on the handle. His shoulders slump in defeat.
"I hate you" he whispers.
"I KNOW. NOW GET BACK HERE. YOU'RE PARTICIPATING."
"I need... I need so much alcohol" Malcador mutters, shuffling back. He makes a gesture and suddenly he's holding a bottle that's glowing faintly. "This is Terran vintage from before Old Night. I was saving it for when the Great Crusade ended." He uncorks it. "Surprise, we're drinking it now."
"Malcador..." Vulkan starts sympathetically.
"Don't!" Malcador snaps, taking a long drink. "Don't you dare be nice to me right now, Vulkan. I can't handle it."
You're still processing. "Wait. WAIT. The Emperor wants to... and Malcador has to... I'm..."
"Having a breakdown?" Konrad offers helpfully. "I'm familiar with those!"
"NOT HELPING, KONRAD."
"NOW THEN" the Emperor continues as if he hasn't just destroyed everyone's sanity "LET'S HEAR IT. WHY SHOULD SHE CHOOSE EACH OF YOU? STARTING WITH... HORUS."
"Why me first?!"
"YOU TRIED TO SKIP THE LINE EARLIER. THIS IS YOUR PUNISHMENT."
Horus rubs his face, looking genuinely flustered for the first time. "I... okay. Fine. FINE." He turns to you and you can see him switching modes, trying to find the right approach.
"Choose me because I can offer you the galaxy" he starts then stops. "No, wait, that sounds like a propaganda speech." He tries again. "Choose me because I'm... because I..."
"Because you're used to being chosen" you finish quietly.
He blinks. "... yes. Actually." A rueful smile. "I don't know how to not be the favorite. But I'd try to make sure you never regretted it. I'd give you everything. Attention, protection, a place at my side while I conquer the stars." He pauses. "Also, I'm very good at remembering birthdays."
"That last part is oddly specific."
"Sanguinius told me women appreciate that!"
"HORUS!" Sanguinius looks betrayed.
"LEMAN. YOUR TURN."
Russ steps forward, grinning. "Easy. Choose me because I'll make you feel alive. Every day is a feast, a fight, or a fuck-"
"LEMAN."
"-or a friendly competition" he corrects, not looking sorry at all. "Choose me because I'm honest. What you see is what you get. No schemes, no politics, just... me. And the pack. We take care of our own." His grin softens slightly. "And I'd make you laugh every single day."
"That's... actually sweet?"
"Don't sound so surprised, little wolf."
"Stop calling me that!"
"LION. YOUR TURN."
The Lion steps forward like he's approaching a negotiation table. "Choose me because I'm loyal. Completely. Once I commit to something or someone... that's it. Forever." His jaw tightens. "I don't do things halfway. You'd never have to question where you stand with me."
"Because you'd tell her" Dorn adds.
"Because I'd show her" the Lion corrects. "I'm not good with words. But actions? I can do actions."
"Also you have a cool sword" Russ adds.
"That's not relevant ."
"It's a little relevant."
"FULGRIM."
Fulgrim glides forward and of course he makes it look like performance art. "Choose me because I'll worship you. Every day, you'd be reminded that you're beautiful, desirable, perfect. I'd write poems about you. Commission art. We'd experience every pleasure the galaxy has to offer." He pauses and for just a moment something genuine flickers across his face. "And maybe you'd help me remember that perfection isn't the point. That being real is enough."
The room goes quiet for a moment.
"Fulgrim, did you just have character growth?" Magnus sounds shocked.
"Shut up, I'm trying to be vulnerable!"
"PERTURABO."
Perty looks like he'd rather be literally anywhere else. "I... why would anyone choose me?" he mutters.
"Perty!"
"No, seriously. I'm bitter, I'm angry, I hold grudges, I'm bad at emotions!"
"Perturabo" you interrupt. "The pitch. Why should I choose you?"
He's quiet for a long moment. "... because I'd build you anything. Anything you wanted. A fortress, a palace, a garden, a library. I'd create wonders just to see you smile." His voice is rough. "And because I'd never take you for granted. I know what it's like to be overlooked. I'd never do that to you."
"Okay that's actually really-"
"But I'd also probably ruin it somehow because I'm a disaster-"
"Perty, you were doing so well!"
"ROGAL."
Dorn stands. Speaks. "Choose me because I'm reliable. Honest. I will never lie to you. I will build you a home that can withstand any siege. You will always be safe. You will always know exactly where you stand. There will be no surprises."
"Rogal, some people like surprises."
"Those people are wrong."
"That's not-"
"They are statistically more likely to experience disappointment."
"Moving on!" you say loudly.
"KONRAD."
Curze drops from the ceiling again (he lives there) in a way that should be terrifying but is now just expected. He lands in a crouch, grinning up at you with too many teeth.
"Choose me because I'm honest about what I am. A monster. But I'd be your monster." His eyes gleam. "I'd protect you from everything in the galaxy. Including myself, if needed. Every fear you have? I'd hunt it down and flay it." He tilts his head. "Also, I'm very good at back massages."
"... what?"
"I have dexterous hands. Very good at finding pressure points."
"That's somehow more disturbing!"
"I'm multi talented!"
"SANGUINIUS."
The Angel steps forward, wings rustling and the room seems to brighten slightly. "Choose me because I'd try every day to be worthy of you. I'd protect you, cherish you and I'd never let the darkness I carry touch you." His smile is sad. "Though I can't promise I won't break your heart eventually. I'm... not built to last."
"Sanguinius..."
"But while I'm here I'd make every moment beautiful."
Several of his brothers look away. This got heavy.
"MAGNUS."
The Crimson King floats forward dramatically because of course he does. "Choose me because I can show you wonders. The secrets of the universe, knowledge beyond imagining. We'd explore the Great Ocean together, unravel mysteries, debate philosophy until dawn." He grins. "Also, psychic connection means I'd always know exactly what you need."
"That's invasion of privacy, Magnus!"
"It's efficient communication!"
"It's telepathic stalking!"
"MORTARION."
The Death Lord steps forward reluctantly. "Don't choose me. This is stupid. I don't even want to be here."
"MORTARION, the pitch...!"
"FINE. Choose me because I won't lie about how terrible the galaxy is. I won't give you false hope or pretty words. What you see is what you get: misery, honesty and someone who knows suffering and survives anyway." He pauses. "Also, I'm very... durable. Hard to kill. You wouldn't have to worry about me dying on you."
"That's the most Mortarion pitch possible."
"I know what I'm about."
"CORAX."
Corvus looks like he wants to melt into the shadows. "I... choose me if you like quiet. If you want someone who understands that sometimes you need to be alone. Someone who won't demand constant attention." His voice is soft. "I'd leave you poetry on your desk. Small gifts. Nothing extravagant. Just... reminders that you're thought of."
"Corax, that's adorable."
He looks mortified. "It's practical."
"VULKAN."
The biggest Primarch steps forward with that warm smile. "Choose me because I'd love you completely. Build you a home full of warmth and laughter. I'd hug you every day!"
"We've established the hugging thing."
"... and I'd make sure you always felt safe, valued, cherished. You'd be family. The most important kind." His eyes are sincere. "And I'd never, ever let you feel alone."
You might be tearing up a little. Vulkan is too wholesome.
"LORGAR."
The Word Bearer steps forward, clutching his prophecy book like a lifeline. "Choose me because I would devote myself to you entirely. You would be my scripture, my faith, my purpose. Every word I write would be in your honor. Every temple, every monument-"
"Lorgar, that's a lot of pressure!"
"It's love!"
"It's codependency!"
"What's the difference?!"
"JAGHATAI."
The Khan pushes off from the wall lazily. "Choose me because I'd never cage you. You want freedom? Take it. You want to race across the stars? I'll be right beside you. No possessiveness, no chains." He grins. "Just speed, freedom and someone who understands that sometimes you need to move ."
"That's actually really appealing."
"I know."
"FERRUS."
Ferrus crosses his metal arms. "Choose me because I'm strong. I'd never burden you with weakness. We'd push each other to be better, stronger, more capable." He pauses. "But I'd also... try to be gentle. When it matters."
"The hesitation there is concerning."
"I'm working on it."
"ANGRON."
The Custodes drag Angron forward. He's shaking, the Nails clearly biting.
"Choose me because..." He stops, breathes hard. "... because I'd try. Even when it hurts. Even when the Nails scream. I'd try to be gentle with you." His voice cracks. "And maybe you'd help the pain stop. Even for a moment. That's all I want. Just... moments of peace."
The room is completely silent.
"... Angron... "
"NEXT" he growls, looking away. "Before I say something stupid."
"ROBOUTE."
Guilliman steps forward and you can see him organizing his thoughts in real time. "Choose me because I'd be a proper partner. Organized. Efficient. I'd remember important dates, plan thoughtful gestures, ensure optimal work-life balance. "
"Guilliman, you're describing a personal assistant."
He looks genuinely confused. "Is that... not what partners do?"
"ROBOUTE."
"I... wait, let me recalculate." He's actually recalculating. "Choose me because I'd provide stability. Structure. You'd never have to worry about logistics or planning. I'd handle everything." He pauses then adds quietly "And maybe you'd help me remember that efficiency isn't everything. That sometimes it's okay to just... exist. Without a plan."
"Did you just admit you need help relaxing?"
"It's a documented weakness in my psychological profile. I'm working on it." He holds up his clipboard. "I have a fourteen step program."
"Of course you do."
"ALPHARIUS. OMEGON. WHICHEVER."
Both of them step forward from different directions. "Choose us because you'd never be bored" one says.
"Every day would be a mystery" the other adds.
"We'd keep you guessing. "
"We'd keep you intrigued."
"And we'd protect you in ways you'd never even know about."
"Also there's two of us so technically you're getting a better deal."
"That's not how relationships work!"
They shrug in unison. "Isn't it?"
"AND NOW... ME."
The Emperor looks smug... or just more dramatic. It's hard to tell with him.
"CHOOSE ME BECAUSE I AM THE MASTER OF MANKIND. I CAN OFFER YOU LITERALLY EVERYTHING. POWER. IMMORTALITY. KNOWLEDGE. PSYCHIC ABILITIES. A POSITION AS EMPRESS OF THE ENTIRE GALAXY."
"Father, this is INSANE!"
"I'M ALSO VERY EXPERIENCED. THOUSANDS OF YEARS OF EXISTENCE. I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT I'M DOING."
"I'm going to vomit" Mortarion announces.
"PLUS, THINK OF THE GENETIC POTENTIAL OF OUR OFFSPRING. THEY'D BE EVEN MORE POWERFUL THAN THE PRIMARCHS."
"We're right here" Horus shouts.
"I KNOW. YOU'RE WELCOME FOR THE COMPETITION. IT'LL MAKE YOU ALL TRY HARDER."
"This is a nightmare" Malcador repeats, drinking more of his ancient vintage. "This is my personal hell."
"AND SPEAKING OF MALCADOR..."
"No."
"MALCADOR, YOUR PITCH."
"Absolutely not."
"DO IT OR I'LL MAKE YOU ATTEND EVERY SINGLE ONE OF LORGAR'S SERMONS FOR A MONTH."
Malcador's face goes pale. "... you wouldn't."
"TRY ME."
The Sigillite takes a long drink, sets down his bottle and looks at you with the exhausted eyes of a man who has given up on life.
"Choose me because I'm the only sane one here" he says flatly. "I won't write you poetry. I won't offer you the galaxy. I won't promise grand adventures or cosmic mysteries. I'll just... be there. Competent. Reliable. With access to very, very good alcohol." He pauses. "Also, I know where all the bodies are buried. Literally and figuratively. That's useful."
"Malcador, that's actually..."
"And if you choose me I'll make sure the Emperor stops this madness and leaves us all alone."
"I MAKE NO SUCH PROMISES."
"I HATE YOU SO MUCH."
You stare at the assembled Primarchs, the Emperor and Malcador's absolutely defeated expression.
"I need... I need a minute."
"TAKE YOUR TIME" the Emperor says magnanimously. "THIS IS AN IMPORTANT DECISION."
"This is insane."
"ALSO YES."
What now?
A
B
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G
Voting ended onMar 12
A) "I'm ranking these pitches from 'surprisingly healthy' to 'please seek therapy'. Guilliman, I need your clipboard."
B) "Okay so the Emperor just made this weird AND weirder. Can we address that he's competing against his own sons?"
C) "Malcador, forget the question hat. I'm raiding your alcohol vault and we're getting drunk before I make any decisions."
D) "Emperor, I'll consider your pitch if you can tell me ONE emotionally healthy reason to date you that isn't 'I'm powerful'."
E) "Everyone just described what they need. What if I asked what you'd actually do for a partner?"
F) "You know what? I'm going back to the question hat. This is too much pressure."
G) "Guilliman's fourteen step relaxation program. I want to hear it. All of it. RIGHT NOW."
Lots of people participated in the poll. I am genuinely shocked. I didn't expect that many people to vote! But here we are and the second part is here as well. I mixed C and G since they were only 2 votes apart and deserved to be combined. :3
You take a deep breath, square your shoulders and point accusingly at the assembled Primarchs.
"WHICH ONE OF YOU TOLD YOUR DAD I WAS SINGLE?"
The room erupts.
"It wasn't me!" Fulgrim says immediately which makes him the most suspicious.
"I would never involve myself in Father's bizarre schemes" Guilliman lies while literally holding a clipboard titled MATCHMAKING EFFICIENCY PROTOCOLS.
Magnus's eye twitches. "Why does everyone always assume it's my fault?"
"BECAUSE IT USUALLY IS" Russ bellows, still shirtless.
Perturabo is in the corner looking like he wants to die. Dorn is standing perfectly still which somehow makes him even more suspicious. Lorgar has stars in his eyes and is clutching what appears to be a handmade book titled The Sacred Union: A Prophecy.
And in the back you spot Konrad Curze hanging upside down from a rafter like a deranged bat, his eyes gleaming with manic amusement. Mortarion is slumped in a chair, his rebreather wheezing with what can only be described as profound reluctance. Corax is attempting to blend into the shadows and failing because someone put a spotlight on him.
"Father pulled me from the vents" Curze rasps, grinning. "Said if I didn't participate he'd make me attend Fulgrim's art exhibitions. All of them."
"That's a war crime" Corax mutters.
"I am literally being held hostage" Mortarion wheezes. "There are psychic wards on the doors."
You sigh. This is getting nowhere.
You raise your hands. "OKAY. Okay. If I'm doing this I have CONDITIONS."
Guilliman's quill is already poised. "Please proceed."
"First" you say, pacing like a general before battle "no one gets to be weird about the polyamory thing. Your dad already made it weird. Don't make it weirder."
Fulgrim raises his hand. "Define 'weird'."
"You know what you did, Fulgrim."
"I haven't done anything yet!"
"YET" several Primarchs chorus.
"Second" you continue "I want honest answers from all of you too. This goes both ways. If I'm answering your questions, you're answering mine."
"Acceptable" Dorn states.
"That's terrifying coming from you, Rogal."
His expression doesn't change. "I know."
"Third, anyone who makes this genuinely uncomfortable gets thrown out. I don't care if you're a Primarch. I will call your dad."
"She's serious" Vulkan says approvingly. "I like her."
"You like everyone" Konrad hisses from above.
"AND FOURTH" you declare, pointing at the ceiling bat "Curze, if you start monologuing about flaying anyone, you're out. I don't care how much your Father wants grandkids."
Konrad drops from the rafter, landing in a crouch that should have shattered his knees but doesn't because Primarch bullshit. He tilts his head, smile too wide. "What if they deserve it?"
"OUT."
"What if I only describe it?"
"OUT."
"... I'll behave." He doesn't sound convincing.
Guilliman is writing frantically. "These are reasonable terms. All in favor?"
Approximately fifteen hands go up. Mortarion's doesn't. Corax's rises so slowly it's like he's hoping no one will notice.
"Excellent" Guilliman says. "Now, shall we begin with-"
"WAIT" you interrupt. "I'm not done. If we're doing this, everyone participating has to answer one question from me first. Right now."
Magnus grins. "Oh, this should be good."
Sanguinius who has been suspiciously quiet and beautiful this whole time, smiles. "What would you like to know?"
What's your opening question?
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B
C
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F
Voting ended onFeb 26
A) "What are you actually looking for in a relationship? And don't give me propaganda answers, I want the truth." (Get straight to the real shit)
B) "On a scale of one to 'Fulgrim at a wine tasting', how possessive are we talking here?" (Addressing the elephant in the room: these are territorial demigods)
C) "Which of you can actually cook? Because I'm not doing all the domestic labor in this hypothetical relationship." (Practical and hilarious)
D) "Your father wants grandchildren. How do you feel about kids, actually?" (Cut to the chase since that's apparently why you're here)
E) "Who here has ever actually been in a relationship before? Show of hands." (Watch them all squirm)
F) "What's your favorite way to spend a free evening? And Curze, if you say 'hunting criminals through the underhive', I swear to the Throne..." (Figure out compatibility through lifestyle)
You cross your arms and look at the assembled Primarchs with your best "I'm not putting up with bullshit" expression.
"What are you actually looking for in a relationship? And don't give me propaganda answers. No 'for the good of the Imperium' or 'to serve humanity' crap. I want the truth."
The silence is deafening.
Guilliman's quill hovers over his parchment. He looks genuinely distressed. "But... serving humanity is what I-"
"Propaganda answer. Disqualified. Next."
"I just want someone who understands that efficiency and proper planning are-"
"Roboute, that's just more work talk. NEXT."
The Thirteenth Primarch looks like you just shot him. Mortarion makes a sound that might be a laugh but could also be his rebreather giving out.
Fulgrim raises his hand eagerly like a student who actually did the reading. "I want someone who appreciates beauty, physical pleasure and-"
"We know, Fulgrim. You want someone to fuck and look at art with."
"Well when you say it like that, it sounds shallow!"
"Is it inaccurate?"
He opens his mouth. Closes it.
"... no."
"Honesty! Thank you. Next?"
Leman Russ grins.
"I want someone who can keep up with me. In a fight, in a feast, in bed-"
"Okay, we get it, you're exhausting."
"-and someone who doesn't mind the whole Wolf thing." He gestures vaguely at himself. "The pack is part of the deal. Also, I want someone who'll tell me when I'm being an idiot."
"That's... surprisingly self-aware, actually."
"I'm not always drunk."
"Counter argument: you're drunk right now."
"... maybe a little."
Lion El'Jonson who has been standing in the corner like a particularly judgmental statue finally speaks. His voice is deep and measured and somehow makes you feel like you're being evaluated for tactical weaknesses.
"I want someone loyal. Unquestionably loyal." He pauses and something complicated crosses his face. "Someone I can trust completely. Someone who won't..." He trails off for a moment. You notice his jaw is clenched for a moment. "Someone who won't betray me. Someone who understands that trust, once broken, cannot be repaired."
"Lion, that's... really specific. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." He's definitely not fine. "Also, someone who doesn't expect me to explain my strategies. I know what I'm doing. I don't need to justify every decision."
"So you want blind loyalty and no questions asked?"
"I want trust." His eyes are intense. "And someone who doesn't mind that I'm better at talking to Watchers in the Dark than people."
"The what?"
"Small robed creatures. Very good listeners. Don't judge."
"Lion, do you have friends?"
"I have the Watchers."
"LION."
"They're excellent company!"
Vulkan stands and his smile is genuine and warm and somehow makes you more nervous than Curze's predatory grin.
"I want a partner. Someone to build a life with. To create things together, to laugh with, to come home to." He pauses. "Also, someone who won't judge me for the excessive amount of hugs."
"Vulkan, that's actually sweet-"
"I mean excessive. I have made several of my brothers cry from hugging."
"That was one time" Corax mutters from the shadows "and I wasn't crying, I was strategically retreating."
Magnus floats forward because of course he does, the show off.
"I want someone who can engage with me intellectually. Someone curious. Someone who doesn't fear knowledge." His eye gleams. "Also, someone who won't get weird about the whole 'psychic intrusion' thing."
"THE WHAT."
"It's not intrusion if it's accidental!"
"MAGNUS."
"I CAN'T ALWAYS CONTROL IT, OKAY?" He actually looks embarrassed which is novel. "Emotions are loud. Especially... certain emotions."
Fulgrim snickers. "He means when you're-"
"We don't need to elaborate" Magnus says quickly, turning crimson. Well, more crimson.
Sanguinius finally speaks. "I want someone who sees past the wings and the prophecy and the legend. Someone who knows about the Thirst and doesn't run." His expression is melancholic. "And someone who won't break when I inevitably disappoint them by being less perfect than they imagined."
The room goes quiet for a moment.
"... Sanguinius, are you okay?"
"I'm wonderful!" The smile is blinding and completely unconvincing. "Also, I'd like someone who doesn't mind that all my sons want to die for me and it's becoming a problem."
Lorgar clutches his prophecy book harder. "I want someone to worship. To devote myself to entirely. To write scripture about. To-"
"That's a lot, Lorgar."
"I have a lot of love to give."
"That's just codependency with extra steps!"
"It's devotion!"
Perturabo who has been silently seething in the corner suddenly slams his hand on the table.
"I want someone who actually appreciates what I do! Who doesn't just take and take and never acknowledge the work, the sacrifice, the sheer effort of-" He stops, breathing hard. "... and maybe someone who likes fortifications."
"Do you... do you want me to compliment your fortifications?"
"... would you?"
"Perty, your fortifications are very nice."
He looks like he might cry. Dorn looks offended.
"His fortifications are adequate at best" Dorn states. "If you want superior fortifications-"
"I WILL MURDER YOU, ROGAL."
"You would fail. My defenses are impenetrable."
"BOYS" you snap. "Not helping your cases here!"
Konrad unfolds from whatever shadows he's been lurking in.
"I want someone who isn't afraid of me." His smile is sharp. "But also, someone who should be. Someone who knows what I am and stays anyway. Someone who looks at the monster and says 'yes, that one'."
"That's... deeply concerning."
"I know." He looks delighted. "Isn't it wonderful?"
"Konrad, I think you need therapy, not a relationship."
"Why not both?" He tilts his head at an inhuman angle. "I can multitask. I can flay heretics and be emotionally vulnerable. Watch me" He makes a face that might be meant to be soft but looks like a horror vid villain. "See? Vulnerability."
"That's nightmare fuel."
"I'm trying."
Corvus Corax who has been attempting to disappear entirely sighs like a man condemned.
"I want someone who doesn't expect me to be social. Someone who understands silence. Someone who..." He trails off, looking pained. "Someone who won't make me go to Fulgrim's parties."
"Corax, my parties are legendary!"
"They're nightmares. There are so many people. And noises. And you made me wear glitter."
"You looked fabulous."
Mortarion who everyone forgot was there suddenly wheezes "I want someone who doesn't reek of false hope and perfumed lies. Someone real. Someone who knows the galaxy is suffering and doesn't try to pretty it up." He pauses. "Also, someone who won't try to make me bathe more than once a week."
"Mortarion, that's genuinely disgusting."
"I know what I'm about."
The Khan who has been leaning against the wall looking amused this entire time finally speaks.
"I want someone who won't try to cage me. Someone who understands freedom. Someone who can ride at my side and doesn't need me to slow down." He grins. "Also, someone who appreciates going fast."
"Is that a speed thing or a sex thing?"
"Yes."
Ferrus Manus crosses his metal arms. "I want someone strong. Someone who doesn't need coddling. Someone who can hold their own and won't expect me to be soft." He pauses then adds quietly, "But someone who won't judge me if I am sometimes."
"That's actually emotionally mature, Ferrus."
"Don't sound so surprised."
Angron...
"WAIT" you interrupt. "I thought Angron was sedated?"
"I WOKE UP" Angron roars from the back and yes, there he is, held down by approximately four Custodes. "AND I WANT SOMEONE WHO CAN FIGHT! SOMEONE WHO MAKES ME FEEL ALIVE! SOMEONE WHO..." He stops, and something painful crosses his face. "Someone who makes the Nails quiet. Even for a moment."
The room goes silent again.
"...Angron, I..."
"ALSO SOMEONE WHO WON'T DIE EASILY. I GET ATTACHED AND THEN THEY'RE GONE AND IT HURTS." He's fighting the Custodes now, not to escape but like he needs to move or he'll explode. "EVERYONE DIES. EVERYONE LEAVES."
"Okay, we're getting you a therapist and a relationship."
"CAN I FIGHT THE THERAPIST?"
"... we'll find one who's into that."
Alpharius (or is it Omegon?) steps forward. Or maybe he was there the whole time. It's impossible to tell. "I want someone who likes mysteries. Someone who won't demand to know everything. Someone who can live with secrets."
"Which one are you?"
"Yes."
"That's not an answer!"
"Isn't it?" He (they?) smile. "Also, someone who won't freak out about the whole 'sometimes I'm multiple people' thing."
"THE WHAT?"
"Disregard that" the other one says from behind you and when did he get there?
You take a long, long drink of the wine Malcador gave you earlier.
"Okay" you say finally. "OKAY. So to summarize: Guilliman wants a project manager, Fulgrim wants an art appreciating fuck buddy, Russ wants a drinking buddy who can fight, Vulkan wants a spouse, Magnus wants a mind-meld, Sanguinius wants someone to share his trauma, Lorgar wants a deity, Perturabo wants validation, Dorn wants... wait, Dorn, you didn't answer."
Rogal Dorn stares at you. "I want someone who appreciates fortifications."
"That's it?"
"Yes."
"Rogal-"
"And someone who doesn't lie. Honesty is essential."
"So you want a fortification enthusiast who can't lie to you."
"Correct."
"Your standards are somehow both too high and too simple."
"I know."
You continue.
"Curze wants someone with a death wish, Corax wants a fellow introvert, Mortarion wants someone with low hygiene standards, Khan wants a racing partner, Ferrus wants a strong but occasionally soft partner, Angron wants someone durable and the twins want someone who's okay with identity fraud."
"That's not" the twins start.
"Did I miss anyone?"
"What about me?" Horus shouts from the side and by the Throne, when did he get here?
"HORUS? When did you...?"
"I've been here the whole time! I want someone who can handle ambition! Someone who won't be intimidated when I become Warmaster!" He grins, charismatic and slightly manic. "Someone who doesn't mind being part of something legendary!"
"Your ego needs its own zip code."
"Thank you!"
"That wasn't a compliment!"
They answered. Now what?
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G
Voting ended onFeb 28
A) "Okay, so most of you need therapy but I respect the honesty. Who wants to ask the first actual matchmaking question?"
B) "Before we continue, can someone explain why half of you just described either a therapist or a particularly patient dog?"
C) "I'm going to need more wine. And possibly a flowchart. Guilliman, make me a flowchart."
D) "Okay, here's MY answer: I want someone who can make me laugh, doesn't make their problems my responsibility, and knows how to actually communicate. Can anyone here do that?"
E) "Show of hands: who here is self-aware enough to know they'd be a difficult partner?"
F) "Malcador, I want a raise. Or hazard pay. Or both."
G) Look directly at the Emperor. "Are you HAPPY now? Is this what you WANTED?"
"NO. Hat rules are hat rules. Stop trying to charm your way out of the system!"
Horus blinks, clearly not expecting that response. Several Primarchs snicker.
"But I..."
"NO BUTS. You think being charismatic means you get special treatment? This is a lottery, Horus. Random chance. The one thing in the galaxy that doesn't care about your winning smile."
"It's a very winning smile" he protests.
"Hat. Now. Back of the line."
For a moment, Horus just stares at you. Then he throws his head back and laughs, genuine and surprised. "Alright. Alright! I respect that." He grins and this time it seems more real, less performative. "You don't get swayed easily. That's... actually refreshing."
"Most people fall for his charms immediately" Sanguinius notes, looking amused.
"Most people are weak" Russ adds.
"Or smart enough to know when they're being manipulated" you counter.
"Manipulated?" Horus looks offended. "I prefer 'strategically persuasive'."
"That's the same thing with better marketing."
The Lion actually smirks. It's terrifying. "I like this. She sees through the performance."
"There's no performance!"
"Horus, you literally practice your speeches in the mirror" Fulgrim says. "I've seen you."
"That's called preparation!"
"It's called vanity!"
"SAYS THE PRIMARCH WHO TRAVELS WITH OVER A HUNDRED MIRRORS!"
"THEY'RE FOR DIFFERENT LIGHTING CONDITIONS!"
"BOYS" the Emperor's voice cuts through. "STOP BICKERING. THE MORTAL HAS ESTABLISHED DOMINANCE. RESPECT IT."
"I haven't established anything!"
"YOU MADE HORUS BACK DOWN. THAT'S IMPRESSIVE. CONTINUE."
You grab another question from the helm, eager to move past whatever just happened.
"Okay, next question: 'What's something you're passionate about?'"
"Finally" Guilliman mutters. "A question with actual depth."
"Who wrote this one?"
Silence.
Then quietly from the shadows: "... me."
You squint into the corner. "Corax?"
He shifts uncomfortably. "I wanted to know what... drives you. What makes you excited to wake up in the morning." A pause. "If anything does."
"Corax, that's actually really thoughtful."
"Don't make it weird."
"Too late, it's wholesome now."
He looks like he wants to disappear entirely. Several of his brothers are staring at him with varying expressions of surprise.
"I didn't know you had emotional intelligence" the Lion says, sounding genuinely shocked.
"I have feelings, Lion."
"Do you?"
"I'm going to push you off a building."
"You could try."
"To answer Corax's question" you interrupt loudly "I'm passionate about learning new things. Creating stuff. Solving problems. Good conversations with interesting people." You pause. "And I guess... helping people? When I can. Making things better, even in small ways."
The room is surprisingly quiet.
Vulkan is smiling that warm, genuine smile again. Guilliman is nodding approvingly. Magnus looks intrigued. Even Konrad has stopped his manic giggling and is just... staring at you with those unnerving eyes.
"That's..." Sanguinius starts then smiles sadly. "That's a good answer."
"Why do you look sad about it?"
"Because most people we know are designed for destruction, not creation." He gestures at his brothers. "We're weapons. You're... not."
"Speak for yourself" Vulkan protests. "I create things!"
"You create weapons, Vulkan."
"Beautiful weapons! With artistic value!"
"They're still designed to kill people."
"... okay yes but aesthetically."
You grab another question before this gets philosophical. "'What's your biggest dealbreaker in a relationship?'"
"Oh that's easy" you say immediately. "Dishonesty. If you lie to me about important stuff we're done. I can handle a lot of things but not that."
Dorn's entire face lights up. Well... lights up for Dorn which means his expression shifts from "stern granite" to "slightly less stern granite".
"Acceptable" he declares.
"Rogal, you look way too excited about that."
"Honesty is the foundation of any functional relationship. This is a good answer." He pauses. "You have risen in my estimation."
"I wasn't aware I was being estimated."
"Everyone is always being estimated."
"That's exhausting."
"It's efficient ."
Alpharius (or Omegon?) raises a hand. "Hypothetically, what if someone was honest about the fact that they sometimes have to lie for operational security reasons?"
"That's a paradox, Alpharius!"
"Is it?" The other one appears next to you. "Or is it radical transparency about necessary deception?"
"IT'S BOTH AND I HATE IT."
They look pleased with themselves.
You grab another question and immediately regret it.
"... 'How flexible are you?'"
The room erupts.
"THAT COULD MEAN MANY THINGS" at least seven Primarchs shout.
"It's clearly about adaptability!" Guilliman insists.
"Or physical flexibility" Fulgrim adds with a grin.
"Tactical flexibility in combat scenarios" the Lion argues.
"Emotional flexibility!" Lorgar contributes.
"It's obviously about-" Russ starts.
"IF YOU MAKE THIS SEXUAL, LEMAN, I SWEAR-"
"I WAS GOING TO SAY YOGA!"
"NO YOU WEREN'T!"
"... okay no, I wasn't."
Malcador is now sitting on the floor, back against the wall, bottle in hand, staring at nothing. He's given up. You respect that.
"I'm interpreting this as 'adaptability'" you announce firmly. "And yes, I'm pretty flexible in that sense. I can adjust to new situations. I don't need everything to be planned perfectly. Spontaneity is fine."
The Khan perks up at that. "Spontaneity?"
"Within reason."
"What's reason?"
"Not getting arrested or killed."
"... those are pretty broad parameters."
"I know what I'm about."
You're about to grab another question when the Emperor's voice booms again.
"I HAVE A QUESTION."
Everyone freezes.
"Father, you're supposed to be observing" several Primarchs start.
"I'VE OBSERVED ENOUGH. I HAVE A QUESTION AND SHE'S GOING TO ANSWER IT."
You look at Malcador. Malcador shrugs helplessly, bottle still in hand.
"... what's your question... my Lord?"
The Emperor leans forward, eyes gleaming with what you're pretty sure is amusement.
"IF YOU COULD ONLY CHOOSE THREE OF MY SONS, WHICH THREE WOULD THEY BE?"
"FATHER, NO!"
"THAT'S NOT FAIR!"
"WE HAVEN'T EVEN FINISHED THE QUESTIONS!"
"ANSWER."
The Emperor asked the forbidden question.
What is your answer?
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F
Voting ended onMar 8
A) "Absolutely not. I'm not choosing. That's what this whole process is for!"
B) "I need more wine before I answer that."
C) "Bold of you to assume I'm choosing ANY of them after this disaster!"
D) "... do I have to explain why I'd choose them?"
E) Actually answer the question honestly
F) "Counter-offer: They each tell me why I should choose them first."
If you choose D or E, comment those three you would choose.
"You know what, let's do THREE questions rapid-fire. Chaos mode activated."
"That seems inadvisable" Dorn states.
"THAT'S THE SPIRIT!" Russ cheers.
You reach into the helm and pull out three pieces of parchment at once, unfolding them quickly.
"Okay, question one: 'How do you handle conflict in a relationship?'"
"Reasonable!" Guilliman looks pleased.
"Question two: 'Can you cook?'"
"Practical!" Vulkan nods approvingly.
"Question three: 'Do you bite?'"
The room goes silent.
"... Leman, I know that's yours."
"You don't know that."
"It's written in crayon and smells like Fenrisian mead."
Russ grins, unrepentant. "Answer the question."
"Which question?!"
"All of them" Fulgrim purrs. "Rapid-fire, you said."
You take a breath. Fine. FINE. "Conflict: I prefer talking it out like adults but I'm not afraid to argue if needed. I don't do passive-aggressive bullshit and I don't do mind games."
The Lion nods slightly. Magnus looks disappointed (probably about the mind games thing).
"Cooking: Yes, I can cook. Decently. I'm not a gourmet chef but I won't poison anyone."
"Better than Russ" several Primarchs mutter.
"I CAN COOK!"
"You set water on fire" Vulkan says sadly.
"It was an experiment!"
"And biting..." You stop. Stare at Leman. "Define the context of that question."
His grin gets wider. "You know the context."
"I'm not...!"
"It's a simple yes or no question, little wolf."
"Don't call me that!"
"Answer it!" Curze cackles from somewhere in the rafters. "This is the best entertainment I've had in decades!"
"I'M ALSO CURIOUS" the Emperor adds because of course he is.
"FATHER!"
You're definitely blushing now. "I... in self-defense, yes!"
"That's not the context I meant but I'll take it" Russ howls with laughter.
"Moving on!" You reach for another question.
"Wait!" Perturabo interrupts. "Can we discuss the conflict resolution answer? Because 'talking it out like adults' implies you think we're not adults!"
"Perty, you once didn't speak to Dorn for three months because he said one of your siege towers was acceptable"
"IT WAS MORE THAN ACCEPTABLE, IT WAS A MASTERWORK!"
"You're proving my point!"
Dorn's face is impassive. "It was acceptable. I don't understand the issue."
"ROGAL, I SWEAR TO TERRA-"
"Boys, if you can't play nice, I'm separating you" you snap.
Both Primarchs immediately look like scolded children. The fact that this works is somehow worse than if it hadn't.
Lorgar raises his hand. "I have thoughts about your conflict resolution style."
"Lorgar, if you're about to tell me that conflict is sacred or some philosophical thing...!"
"Conflict is sacred! It's the crucible through which-"
"Next question!" You grab another paper. "Oh this one's easy. 'What's your ideal weekend?'"
"Finally, a normal one" Sanguinius sighs.
"Reading, maybe working on a project, spending time with people I care about. Nothing too crazy." You shrug. "I like a balance of productive time and relaxation."
You notice several Primarchs perk up at different parts of that answer.
Guilliman at "productive time". Perturabo at "project". Corax and the Lion at "reading". Magnus DEFINITELY at "reading". The Khan looks slightly disappointed, probably hoping you'd say something about racing bikes or whatever he does for fun.
"Follow up" Fulgrim says smoothly. "Define 'nothing too crazy'."
"Why do I feel like your definition of crazy and mine are very different?"
"Because they are. My last weekend involved a wine tasting, an orgy and commissioning fifteen sculptures."
"FULGRIM!"
"What? I'm efficient with my time!"
"That's not what efficiency means!"
"Isn't it?" He looks genuinely confused.
Malcador refills your wine without being asked. You're beginning to understand why he drinks so much.
"Next question!" You grab another paper desperately. "... 'What are your thoughts on public displays of affection?'"
"Oh that's mine" Vulkan says cheerfully.
"Really? That seems normal for you."
"I'm a very affectionate person! I need to know if you're comfortable with hugs, hand-holding, that sort of thing." His smile is warm and genuine. "Consent is important!"
"Vulkan, you're too pure for this family."
"I know!" He beams.
"To answer: I'm fine with reasonable PDA. Hugs, hand-holding, maybe a kiss, sure. Anything more than that should probably be private."
Vulkan nods, satisfied. Fulgrim looks vaguely disappointed. Russ looks like he's planning to test those boundaries immediately.
The Khan speaks up from his corner. "Does that include holding on while riding at high speeds?"
"... Is that a motorcycle thing or a euphemism?"
"Yes."
"I hate it here."
Konrad suddenly drops down again, because apparently he just lives in the ceiling now. "Another question!" He shoves a crumpled paper at you.
You read it. Blink. Read it again.
"... 'What would you do if you woke up and I was just... watching you sleep?'"
"KONRAD!"
"It's a reasonable question!"
"It's literally the opposite of that!"
"I need to know if you'd scream! Or try to stab me! Or-"
"The answer is yes, I would stab you, what is wrong with you?!"
He looks delighted. "Good. I respect that. Follow up: what weapon would you use?"
"Whatever's closest!"
"Even better."
"Konrad, this is why you're single" Sanguinius says tiredly.
"I'm single because I have standards!"
"Your standards are 'must tolerate being terrified constantly'" Corax mutters.
"And?!"
You grab another question before this can continue. "'How important is personal space to you?'"
"Oh thank the Throne, a normal question."
"That's mine" the Lion says.
"... Why do you need to know about personal space?"
"Because I value mine. Considerably." He crosses his arms. "I need to know if you're going to be... clingy."
"Clingy?"
"Requiring constant attention. Invading my workshops. Demanding to know where I am at all times." His jaw tightens. "I need space to think. To plan. To work."
"So you want someone who's okay with you disappearing into your room for three days?"
"... Yes."
"Lion, that's called avoidant attachment."
"It's called boundaries."
Corax nods along. "I also need to know this. I require significant alone time."
"You're always alone" Fulgrim points out.
"Exactly. And I'd like to keep it that way. Mostly. Sometimes." Corax shifts uncomfortably. "The right amount."
"To answer the question" you say "I value personal space too. I'm not clingy. But complete emotional unavailability isn't great either. There's a balance."
"Balance" Lorgar breathes, writing frantically. "The sacred equilibrium-"
"Lorgar, I swear...!"
"THIS IS EXCELLENT PROGRESS" the Emperor booms. "I'M LEARNING SO MUCH ABOUT COMPATIBILITY DYNAMICS!"
"You're learning how to torture people, you mean" Mortarion wheezes.
"THAT TOO."
You reach for another question and...
"Wait" Horus interrupts, striding forward with that signature charisma on full blast. "I haven't gotten my question answered yet."
"Horus, put it in the hat like everyone else."
"But I'm the first" he says with a dazzling smile. "Doesn't that count for something?"
"Not in a lottery system!"
"Come on. One question. For your favorite Primarch?"
"I don't have a favorite!"
"Yet" Fulgrim stage-whispers.
"Everyone shut up!"
What do you do?
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Voting ended onMar 7
A) "Fine, Horus. One question. But then we're back to the lottery!"
B) "NO. Hat rules are hat rules. Stop trying to charm your way out of the system!"
C) "Everyone who's been taking notes gestures at Guilliman and Lorgar, share your findings."
D) Just grab three more questions.
Horus is giving you puppy eyes. The Emperor is thoroughly entertained. Curze is laughing maniacally. Malcador has given up and is just drinking straight from the bottle now.
A option won the vote. So, time to continue. Nothing can proceed seriously. Not even this. Especially not this. The questions began (or almost so, god help us all).
You down the rest of your wine in one go. Malcador, bless him, immediately hands you another glass. He looks like he's aged fifty years in the last ten minutes.
"Okay, so most of you need therapy but I respect the honesty. Who wants to ask the first actual matchmaking question?"
Eighteen hands shoot up immediately.
Well, seventeen. Mortarion's stays firmly crossed over his chest.
"Not all at once-"
"I'LL GO FIRST" the Emperor's voice booms through the room. "THIS IS MY EVENT."
"Oh no" Malcador whispers.
The Emperor makes an... expression. You could describe it best as a matchmaking dad expression.
"QUESTION ONE: WHAT IS YOUR STANCE ON HAVING CHILDREN?"
"FATHER, NO!" at least six Primarchs shout.
"IT'S A REASONABLE QUESTION. I WANT TO KNOW IF I'M GETTING GRANDCHILDREN OR IF I WASTED MY TIME GENETICALLY ENGINEERING ALL OF YOU."
"This is mortifying" Guilliman mutters.
"I think it's wonderful" Lorgar is immediately taking notes.
You stare at the Emperor. "Are... are you going to be at all of these sessions?"
"ONLY THE IMPORTANT ONES." He leans forward. "WELL? ANSWER THE QUESTION."
"I mean... I haven't really thought about-"
"IRRELEVANT!" Fulgrim interrupts, stepping forward with a flourish. "I have a better first question." His smile is dangerous. "What's your idea of a perfect date?"
"Oh that's actually normal-"
"Is it a private concert where I play for you while feeding you grapes?" he continues. "A visit to an art gallery where we discuss the sublime nature of beauty? Or perhaps something more... intimate? Wine tasting that becomes... other kinds of tasting?"
"Fulgrim!" Sanguinius hisses.
"What? Father said he wanted grandchildren! I'm being efficient!"
Russ barks out a laugh. "That's not a date, that's foreplay with extra steps!"
"Your idea of a date is wrestling a bear!"
"It was one time and she enjoyed it!"
"The bear or the date?"
"BOTH!"
Konrad drops from the ceiling again (when did he get back up there?) and lands directly in front of you. "Here's my question: what's your worst fear?"
"Konrad, what the fuck?"
"I need to know." His eyes are too wide, too intense. "So I know what not to do. Probably. Maybe. No promises."
"That's not reassuring!"
"It wasn't meant to be!"
The Lion cuts through the chaos with his usual tact (none). "Do you know how to use a sword?"
"... is that your actual question?"
"Yes."
"Why does that matter?"
"It matters." He crosses his arms. "Can you defend yourself or will you be a liability in combat situations?"
"Lion, this is a matchmaking event"
"Combat readiness is essential in any partnership."
Corvus raises his hand hesitantly. "Can I ask mine?"
"Please" you beg. "Ask something normal."
"Would you be okay with... not talking? Sometimes? For long periods?"
"... that's actually reasonable."
"Oh good." He looks relieved. "Follow up: how do you feel about birds?"
"Corax, why-"
"I have a lot of ravens. They're everywhere. In the vents. On the furniture. One of them has learned to mimic Curze's screaming and it's becoming an issue."
"That was your raven?" Curze shrieks.
"Maybe."
Malcador pours you a third glass of wine. You haven't even finished the second.
It feels like a mess. What now?
What will yo do?
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Voting ended onMar 2
A) "Okay, new rule: One question at a time and it has to be something I can actually answer without a therapist present!"
B) Point at Guilliman. "You. Clipboard. Organize this disaster immediately or I'm walking out."
C) Turn to the Emperor. "This is your fault! You fix this!"
D) "Fine. FINE. Everyone write your question down and put it in a hat. We're doing this lottery style."
E) Look directly at the most seemingly reasonable Primarch (Vulkan? Sanguinius?) "Please help me."
F) "You know what? I'll answer Fulgrim's question first because at least it's normal... mostly."
You walk to the center of the room and clap your hands.
"Okay. Everyone who fumbled the redemption round, over here. NOW."
There's shuffling. Perturabo, Lorgar, Magnus, Mortarion, Konrad, Alpharius and... is that another Alpharius? Or just Omegon?, Horus, Fulgrim, Russ (who stumbles over carrying three bottles now), Lion, Sanguinius, Guilliman, Dorn and Angron all gather around looking various degrees of concerned.
"Wait, that's almost everyone" Corax notes from the safe zone.
"I know " you say. "That's the problem."
You look at the assembled demigods. "Be honest: who here actually wants this?"
Silence.
"I'm serious. No judgment. If you're only here because your dad is making you, speak up."
Mortarion's hand shoots up immediately.
"Thank you for your honesty, Mortarion."
"Can I leave now?"
"Not yet. Anyone else?"
Slowly, reluctantly Konrad raises his hand. "I'm mostly here because it's funny watching everyone suffer."
"KONRAD."
"What?! I'm being honest like you asked!" He grins. "Also, Father threatened to make me do paperwork if I didn't participate."
"That's a war crime" Perturabo mutters then pauses. "Actually... do I want this?"
"Perty, you're having an existential crisis right now?"
"I'm having one constantly! This is just a specific one!" He looks genuinely confused. "I think I want someone to appreciate me but I don't know if I want this specifically?"
"That's... actually very self-aware?"
"I'm in therapy now, I'm learning things!"
Alpharius and Omegon look at each other. "We're here because it seemed entertaining" one says.
"And we were curious" the other adds.
"So... not actually interested?"
They shrug in unison. "We could be convinced?"
"That's not a yes!"
Dorn raises his hand with the same energy as someone reporting a structural deficiency. "I am uncertain of my motivations. I believe I want companionship but I am unsure if romantic companionship is the correct format."
"Rogal, are you saying you might be aromantic?"
"I do not know what that means."
"It means you might not experience romantic attraction!"
He considers this. "That would explain some things. I shall research this." He pauses. "Do you still want my fortification expertise?"
"Dorn, that's not how this works!"
Russ, drunk off his ass, raises a bottle. "I'm here because it sounded fun! And it is! This is great entertainment!"
"Leman, do you actually want to date me or do you just want chaos?"
He thinks about this for way too long. "... both? Can it be both?"
"RUSS!"
Sanguinius shifts his wings uncomfortably. "I... I think I want this? But I also think I want someone to fix me which is unhealthy and I'm not sure I can separate the two desires."
"That's very self-aware and also very sad!"
"I know!" He looks miserable. "I'm working on it! But slowly! Very slowly!"
The Lion crosses his arms. "I want loyalty. Whether that requires romance, I'm uncertain."
"Lion, you can have loyal friends!"
"Can you?" He looks genuinely confused.
"YES?!"
"Hm. I'll need to think about this."
Horus rubs his face. "Honestly? I don't know if I want you specifically or if I just can't handle the idea of not being chosen."
"Horus, that's just your ego."
"I know!" He looks frustrated. "But knowing it doesn't make it go away! It's very annoying!"
Fulgrim raises his hand elegantly. "I definitely want someone. Whether it's you or just the idea of you, I'm still figuring out."
"At least you're honest?"
"I'm always honest about my superficiality!"
Magnus floats higher. "I want intellectual companionship. Whether that needs to be romantic, I'm genuinely unsure. I've never had to think about it before."
Guilliman is the next to speak up. "I believe I want a partner but I'm uncertain if I'm psychologically capable of maintaining a relationship given my work-life balance issues."
"Roboute, at least you know your problems."
"Oh, I have a list." He pulls out a dataslate. "Forty-six documented psychological barriers to romantic attachment, organized by category."
"Why do you have that?!"
"Preparation!"
Lorgar clutches his therapy notes. "I want to be devoted to someone but my therapist says I need to work on 'healthy attachment styles' first." He looks pained. "It's very difficult."
"How many sessions have you had?"
"One. This morning."
"Lorgar, that's not enough time!"
Angron, surprisingly calm, shrugs. "I think I just want the Nails to stop hurting. If a relationship does that, great. If not..." He trails off. "I don't know, man. I'm just here."
"That's heartbreaking but also honest, so thank you?"
You look around at the assembled disasters. "Okay. So to summarize: Mortarion doesn't want this, Konrad is here for the chaos, Perty is having an existential crisis, the twins are 'curious,' Dorn might be aromantic, Russ wants entertainment, Sanguinius wants someone to fix him, Lion wants loyalty but not necessarily romance, Horus has ego issues, Fulgrim wants the concept of someone, Magnus wants a study buddy, Guilliman has forty-six psychological barriers, Lorgar needs more therapy and Angron just wants the pain to stop."
"When you say it like that it sounds bad" Fulgrim notes.
"It is bad!"
"THIS IS EXCELLENT" the Emperor booms. "HONESTY IS PROGRESS."
"How is this progress?!"
"BECAUSE NOW WE KNOW WHO TO ELIMINATE!"
Mortarion perks up. "Wait, I can leave?!"
"Hold on" you say. "I'm not eliminating people who are honest about not being sure. That's healthy."
"THEN WHO ARE YOU ELIMINATING?"
You think about it. "Here's what I'm thinking: Anyone who genuinely doesn't want this and would be relieved to be eliminated, raise your hand."
Mortarion's hand shoots up so fast it's a blur.
Konrad slowly raises his hand. "I mean this is fun but I'm also good with leaving."
"Anyone else?"
Silence.
"Okay, what if I asked: who would actively be upset if they got eliminated?"
Perturabo's hand goes up. Then Lorgar's. Then surprisingly Horus'. Sanguinius looks conflicted but raises his hand. Angron just shrugs and raises his hand halfway.
"This is the worst decision making process ever" Malcador calls from inside his alcohol vault where he's apparently joined Russ.
"ARE YOU DRINKING WITH RUSS NOW?!"
"If you can't beat them, join them!" Malcador's voice echoes. "Also, he found my bottle from the unification wars!"
"Is that bad?!"
"It's terrible! It's also delicious! I'm having a crisis !"
"SO" the Emperor says. "WHO'S GETTING ELIMINATED?"
Time to decide.
What now? Who gets out?
A
B
C
D
E
F
G
Voting ended onMar 31
A) "Mortarion and Konrad, you're out. Thank you for your honesty. You're free."
B) "Actually, anyone who's 'unsure' gets ONE more chance to figure out if they actually want this."
C) "Everyone who gave me a thesis about their psychological problems instead of a yes or no, you're out. I'm not your therapist."
D) "Mortarion, Konrad and anyone who admitted they're here for reasons other than actual interest... gone."
E) "You know what? Nobody gets eliminated yet. This honesty deserves reward. But Emperor... you're still out for the eugenics thing."
F) "Malcador, get out of that vault and help me decide who to eliminate!"
G) Custom elimination. You decide who to eliminate. Comment/reblog, tell me who you want to see gone.
