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and roses, too
Long hair is a luxury on Chemos. Everyone’s got a story—everyone has an uncle, or a daughter, or a friend. It gets caught in gears, twisted into spinners, stuck to pressed. Every great machine in the factories springing up all over Chemos these days seems to have a hunger for hair.
People try all kinds of things. Hair ties, tight caps, gel. Nothing quite works, not completely. There’s always another story—the spine-tingling screams, the crunch of bone, the blood from scalps, the bits of human that show up in the product that comes out. That’s the real problem—it ruins the product, gums up the machines. Can’t be having that on the assembly line.
More and more, people just cut their hair. Sometimes it’s mandated by the foreman, but most folks don’t need any prompting. The great machines hunger for human flesh. Mostly fingers, but sometimes hands and arms too, or toes and feet and legs. And hair, always hair. You can’t cut off your arms and legs, but you can cut your hair.
So long hair disappears on the lines. No more ponytails, no more dreads. No more updos, no more afros, no more buns or braids or blowouts. Spikes? Gone. Layers? Gone. It’s not needed on the line, and who’s got the money for that, anyways?
It’s different in the corporate castles, of course. If anything, it’s the opposite. The higher the office, the more elaborate the style, and if you merit a corner office—phew! Business people have needs, after all, and one of those needs is looking the part. Gotta make sure everyone knows you got money!
So the poor cut short and the rich cut long. It’s custom, not law—not until Emala grows her hair out and flings the Labor banner across the sky. There’ve been insurrections before, but nothing like this, where the union madness spreads like plague from factory to factory. Chemos is wracked with war for a full generation, and simmering unrest for another. Everything changes after that.
Ragillan, Inc. is the first corp to establish sumptuary laws, but all the others quickly follow suit. Buzzcuts for the lines, chin length for the cubicles, shoulder length for the lower offices, and of course the upper floors can do whatever they want. Not that they’d be caught dead with a bob, of course.
Years, decades, centuries pass, and slowly other sumptuary laws are added to factories’ regulations. Industria has long been the primary deity on Chemos, but a new philosophical trend begins circulating amongst her worshippers. It is the duty of the poor to save and the rich to spend.
Poverty is a product of laziness, of poor discipline, insouciance, disobedience, bad attitude. Therefore let the poor learn discipline through frugality. Abandon luxury for the important things in life—hard work and a go-getter mindset. Cut the fat from the budget! You can relax when you’ve clawed your way up through the offices. Does man need beauty to survive? Surely not!
The executives quickly realize their duty to shepherd their lines to a higher moral standing. Line workers are a dissolute lot, naturally inclined to sloth, theft, filth, and ignorance. They need a strong hand to keep them on the straight and narrow. Heavy is the executive’s lot, burdened with the duty of uplifting their workers!
And so the sumptuary laws expand. No more sweet-smelling soaps, no more silky-smooth conditioners. No more make-up, perfume, or cologne. No more brightly colored clothing cut to flatter the form, no more patterns or embroidery. No more, no more, no more…
Thirty thousand years after the birth of a forgotten god, Chemos is a dull, grey planet full of dull, grey people. Everyone is stunted, shorn-headed, dull-eyed, dressed in shapeless coveralls, filthy with grease, coughing up soot, exhausted and malnourished, overworked and underpaid. Stare at enough of them and they start to blend together. Labor is a virtue and beauty is a sin.
And then one day—
One day, Tullea and Corrin’s son walks into work, and everyone stops to stare. He’s always been an odd one, as pretty and wise and impossible as his namesake god, but today takes things to the next level. Overnight, his hair has grown down to his waist, and he has teased and twisted and braided it into an elaborate style. Washed and dyed with stolen products, it seems to shift from color to color as it sways in the light. His eyes match his hair, painted with glittering, multicolored eyeshadow and lined with dark, dramatic mascara. Blush dusts his cheeks, lipstick brightens his mouth. Amidst the dull, gray assembly lines of Chemos, the boy is an explosion of color, of beauty, of joy.
Fulgrim looks across the factory floor—at the enthralled workers, the slackjawed foremen, the uncertain enforcers, the distant manager scrambling for her phone—and smiles. Fulgrim smiles, and everyone knows that the lines are going to march.
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"When you walk in the desert, child, do you hear your own footsteps? We wonder what it tastes like to be so close to the moon and the sun. Are you holy, child? What does it remind you of to know you are something bigger? Your name is called out across the stars for a bigger cause. One more worthy than this. Does it get lonely by yourself? You are years away from the rest of the world. Child, tell me this. Broken child, shattered boy. Boy of glass. Did you know you were a prophet? I imagine the Psalms taste sour on your tongue. Like stories itching to get out. Like every time you failed your people. Are you guilty, child? We know power is born from pain"
This phrase reminded me of the Fan Comic Avatar Genji and the weight of being the Avatar in the situation he finds himself in his story.
#The Legend of Genji#Genji#Avatar Genji#the legend of genji#The Legend of Korra#Fan Comic#Avatar#avatar the last airbender#the last airbender#The weight of the world#quote from pinterest
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Taking a moment to think about Lorgar’s eye color change from The First Heretic to Betrayer. Much has happened in between.
Both books are by ADB and tightly connected so I assume the change is relevant. Really love the change of imagery especially when it’s accompanied by how much Lorgar has changed since Monarchia and more importantly since Isstvan, during the heresy.
Horus and Lorgar even talked about it in Betrayer:
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If your husband actually signs the divorce papers you gave him you might just need to start an apocalypse about it…
Divorce Era Jayvik, my beloved, my dearest…
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You don’t need the context for this don’t worry about it
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Amit and Azkaellon, were they ever caught
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What I love about the forgotten legions in 40k is that you can construct some wild theories and there is no one to stop you. Games workshop doesn't care but we do.
But my personal concern is.
The lore says unknown, but I am not satisfied with that response.
So today we will attemp to get inside Malcador's head and answer one of the Imperium's best kept secrets.
The facts we have so far
BUT WAIT.
The plot thickens because if we take it as fact that the geneseed was stolen from another legion we have to guess who is the father?
But fear not we have more evidence as to guess who might be.
1) All of the Grey Knights are sorcerers and pretty powerful ones at that.
2) One of the first hand picked, finger pointed, wholeheartedly selected Grey Knights was a Night Lord.
3) They are smug, walking talking warp magic nukes. They have that wap. Wild ass potential.
Also I am not joking. The Emperor saw that Night Lord and I guess was impressed by his human skin collection and agreed for him to join.
Malcador too. But at this point we all can agree Malcy Malc boy was a thief. Bad choices is his strongest suit.
SO.
👏🏻
Dad Theory No1
THE FATHER MIGHT BE. (empasis on might but it would be really funny if it was the truth)
Same same. But now a different picture. From a better angle.
The Crimson King is their dad.
Yes I am serious.
My limited research leads me to believe Magnus was the one... used for his geneseed by Malcador to create the loyalist version of nucler houdinis.
And you know what would make this theory even funnier if it was true.
Oh yes. Or oh no. Its the same at this point.
If the Grey Knights are indeed just a bunch of Thousand Sons but painted chrome and artificially orphaned.
That bastard Malcador.
He created 1000 sons and did not even have the decency to tell them who their dad was.
1000 men left out in the cold. With no place to call home.
1000 Sons -
1000 SONS PEOPLE THE GREY KNIGHTS ARE 1000 IN TOTAL. THATS THE FINAL CLUE WE NEEDED.
THEY ARE THE SONS OF MAGNUS BUT IN KNIGHT COSPLAY.
THIS IS CANON NOW.
MALCADOR STOLE MAGNUS SEED (THAT SOUNDS WRONG). AND MADE THE GREY KNIGHTS.
AND NOT ONLY THAT RUBRIC HAPPENED AND SINCE THOSE DUDES DON'T KNOW WHO THEIR DAD IS THEY PROBABLY WOKE UP ONE DAY +10 IN ALL THEIR STATS AND COULD NOT EXPLAIN WHY
Case closed
This is canon now
What will games workshop do?
Refute it?
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Just thinking about how guilliman fucks so well it improved race relations
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i know primarchs grew up very fast and are as mature as an adult at like age 10 but can you imagine if the primarchs--especially those who grew up in a society, went through a phase of forcing themselves to fit in even if they obviously don't because they don't wanna feel left out
like imagine this
little vulkan always slouching and trying to make himself look smaller around his friends. he's been taller than them since forever but he still does it no matter how much his foster father insists that they don't care.
on the same vein little magnus purposely pretending he doesn't know things or dumbs himself down because his peers think he's a no good smart ass. or him getting frustrated, sometimes on the brink of tears because he doesn't get why they can't grasp a specific topic he finds so easy. he's tried to explain, to tutor them but on some days it feels like its going in one ear and out the other and it makes him mad to the brink of tears. the pride in his intellect had yet to settle so at those moment he's just a child that wants to learn with his peers.
now little guilliman had the fortune of having a set of parents but imagine little guilliman getting outcasted by children his age. he already looks so much older with the way he grew so fast. he's got the same slouching problem as vulkan but unlike vulkan he has no friends. he's tried to make friends with the children of other senators only to get shunned because their parents belong to the opposite faction as konor.
JUST WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH IDK IF THE GREW UP QUICK THEY WERE BABIEEEEEEEEEES
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Had a very intellectual discussion on r/Grimdank awhile back and I think you guys should see it
... This is it. Hope this gave you some inspiration.
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I come again with a Primarch headcanon that is based on literally nothing:
Primarchs, ALL Primarchs, are terrified of liminal spaces. I'm talking about getting reduced to a full blown panic attack, absolutely hysterical. They hate it, because they know it's because of the place they found themselves in, but they just... can't put their finger on WHY it makes them so fucking scared. And they HATE it. And they're SCARED. And Roboute wants his mommy back.
And before you ask, yes, that includes the Daemon Primarchs. Incomprehensible eldritch locations, that are literally just hell? Home sweet home! Backrooms? GET THEM OUT OF HERE. ANGRON IS CLAWING AT THE WALLS AND CRYING LIKE A CAT. FULGRIM NEEDS A BREATHING BAG. LORGAR REGAINED FAITH IN THE EMPEROR. KONRAD BEGAN A SURVIVOR LOG. MAGNUS IS CORRECTING KONRAD'S SPELLING MISTAKES ON TOP OF FREAKING OUT.
Mind you, Space Marines are unaffected. Average Imperium citizens also don't really care. Custodes also dgaf. The Emperor owns the dashcon ball pit. Yes, 'the'. It's the real one.
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I actually feel for the Primarchs, they're trying to get respect from their father, but damn! They were originally meant to be just tools, they didn't even have names, just numbers.
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This post was living in my brain rent free since I saw it, so I had to draw Big E chasing one of his kids around😂. Feat. Magnus, because somehow not only I came up with hilarious headcanon on how Magnus became fertile, I also gave him little family before Heresy happened and everything went to shit. Also Emps wailing on poor Magnus just feels natural to me 🤣
Bonus, featuring forementioned family and Grampa Malcador, because he wouldn't miss this show of stupidity for any money.
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Emperor beating on Sanguinius because of Lilith for @staticymaticyyourlifeisatravesty
I still laugh out of that post daily, and I had to draw Sanguinius getting KO'd mid air just for laughs 😂
And also just because I gave daugher to poor Corvus
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