#Agri laws

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

Tenderness

AU Reverse Therapy

Previous Part: Peaceful Sleep, Next Part: Feast

Summary: Red corsairs find it harder to keep their desires while the girl becomes attached to them.

Pairing: Chaos!Lamenter/fem!OC/Chaos!Flesh Tearer

Characters: Malina (fem!OC), Luka The Angel (OC Chaos Lamenter), Virgil (OC Chaos Flesh Tearer)

Warnings: yandere, violence, cannibalism, stolkhom syndrome, somnophilia

Word count: 3056

Author's note: Suddenly I realized that if I had written Feast, it would have been a very choppy and quick ending to "Malina's assimilation". So that's how this part was born. And I must say, I'm glad I wrote it first.

Song: London After Midnight - The Bondage Song (Unchained Mix)

Tag List: @kit-williams, @druidwolf21

“I saw Him bestow His blessing upon His servants. Shining like a slashing sword. Bright as the vivid sun. They were gifted with His love and will. And the faithful servants rose from their knees, they abandoned their fear. And turned their weapons against His enemies. The battle was not yet over. Humanity will live. And it will fight for its Emperor.”

“It’s… so beautiful.” - all Luka could whisper, unable to stop looking at his Malina.

How delicately she held the book, how tenderly she whispered the stupid sermons of a stupid old man. How her lips, enchanting lips, moved. How she had to pause and her pink tongue gently outlined the flesh. And her face almost glowed.

He wants her. He wants her so much. Always. All the time. All eternity.

“Yes, the sermons of Saint Ignatius are my favorite.” - the naive girl smiled happily, not understanding that the man was not talking about them at all. - “Unfortunately, I didn’t have a personal book at home, I had to listen to them in church. But thanks to you, Luka,  I finally have one. Thank you.”

“Y-your welcome.” - the man hesitated awkwardly, trying not to blush. If his dear love continued to praise him, then he would have to leave the quarters as soon as possible. He had few ways to calm down. Most often, he had to use his hand.

Well, and last time, due to an excess of emotions (she, with tears in her eyes, kissed him on the cheek with joy when he gave her this stupid book!), he had to go to the lower levels and eat a child. It was delicious, but Luka loved children and therefore cried for a long time after eating. But then he was able to pull himself together and go back. To find his beauty sitting on his bed and waiting for him.

She wanted to read to him. To him~

“There was no point in learning to read on the agri-world, but I had a very smart uncle.” - the girl whispered, involuntarily remembering the past. - “Apart from Ignatius’s sermons, I adored the romance novel about the Sister of Battle and the guardsman. To tell the truth, it was banned for obvious reasons, but my uncle managed to get a copy. Huh, only now do I realize that we behaved like heretics.”

Luka just laughed at this story. It’s even a pity that they almost mowed down half the population of her home world. Judging by the girl’s stories, they were not fanatics at all.

After all, maybe he lied to Malina that he served the Imperium. But the fact that he saved her was not a lie. She is a young girl dreaming of a beautiful and pure love (and she will get it with him). But the bastards from the Inquisition would have burned her alive even for this innocent desire.

They never listen. Never try to compromise, to forgive those who stumbled. To forgive those who did not even break the law. Who simply wanted to survive and used all the resources, even if they were still alive and begged him not to do it. But the Imperium itself says that everyone must carry out their duty. And Luka was the best in his squad, he should have survived.

His brothers ended up in his stomach for a reason. It was their duty.

"But in my defense, I skipped the raunchiest parts." - The girl giggled, clutching the book to her before jerking it away. - "Oh, I guess that's not something I should talk about while reading Saint Ignatius."

Naive, sweet, gentle Malina. Only his, his love, his salvation. His angel~

“Saint Ignatius?” Virgil suddenly entered the room, abruptly interrupting their wonderful solitude with a question. Confusion was written on his face.

“Yes, Saint Ignatius. His sermons were often held in my church. He valued peace more, but also participated in battles. They say he died an honorable death in one of the battles near Milestorm. Or rather, he disappeared, but our clergy are sure that if he is not fighting, then he is feasting near the God-Emperor.”

Vergil, who was listening attentively to the girl, stood for some time with a thoughtful expression on his face. Before bursting out laughing. Luka thought about shutting the freak up, but changed his mind as soon as the frightened Malina pressed herself against him. Yes, that’s better, closer…

“Good propaganda in the Imperium. Or rather, good training.” - the man smiled sarcastically before lying down on the bed. He was still laughing. - "Feasting near the God-Emperor."

It was really funny. And Luka wanted to laugh too and even go tell the crew about the noble fighter Ignatius. But the look of the upset girl stopped him. The lamenter slowly ran his hand through the girl's dark hair. She immediately looked at him.

He wanted to devour her.

"Do you want to pray?"

Malina prayed. Luka told her that he did it silently. Since he had something to say to the Corpse on Throne (for example, that chemotherapy of the Astartes was the most idiotic decision and his former brothers are pathetic). But he just watched the girl with her eyes closed, pressing her hands to her forehead.

"Sure," - a soft, trusting smile blossomed on her lips.

He loves her so much.

***

Baphomet was disappointed when Virgil asked him for a safe sleeping pill. Not the kind that makes the victim have nightmares and make their eyes pop out of their sockets. Not a drug that makes the flesh boil like meat on burning oil.

He had to explain for a very long time what he wanted. But the main thing is that the disappointed apothecary still gave him the remedy he needed, which the girl took along with the fruit drink. And looking at how soundly she was sleeping, the man understands that his suffering in the stuffy office was worth it.

Malina was quietly snoring, burying her face in her soft pillow. Her eyelashes were gently trembling. Saliva was almost ready to fall from her lips. Virgil wanted to get it out. Which he probably did when he stuck his black tongue into her pink mouth.

Luka insisted that they not touch Malina ahead of time. To give her time to assimilate, get used to the new home, get used to them. She is not a temporary pleasure, she will be with them forever. And if earlier Virgil reluctantly endured, now he himself was ready to wait. The girl is either a psyker or a saint of the Corpse on the Throne, she was able to awaken tender feelings in him.

But while she sleeps, the space marine could at least indulge himself a little. He did not penetrate her, did not even use her tights. He just looked. This was the first time he decided to use her mouth. Apparently, the leader's words excited him too much.

“The next target is the forge world of Hephaestus-VI. Huron Blackheart intends to get as many weapons as possible and is not averse to reining in the Imperials. Two in one. The battle will be hard, but that's part of the fun, isn't it?”

The laughter that followed throughout the war hall confirmed his words.

“And then we will have a feast.”

A feast. A feast. Rivers of blood and meat, moans and cries of supplication, excesses and temptations, a reward after no less delightful slaughter, genocide. All this was soon awaiting him. And Bacchus, pleased with a slightly calmer Virgil and finally controlled Luka, not only allowed him to take the second one with him (Luka was glad like a child). But also allowed him to take Malina.

“I would never have believed in my life that all you two need is a wet cunt.”

No. Virgil and Luka only needed Malina. Although he would never say this out loud while everyone was awake. Only when they were asleep, when they became vulnerable. Only then could Virgil give free rein to his hidden feelings.

The quiet moan that escaped the lips of the sleeping girl sent shivers down the man's spine. He was too carried away. The man stuck his mouth out, allowing the girl to gulp air before attacking her lips again.

Licking her teeth clean and sucking in the saliva that had collected in his mouth. Playing with the limp tongue that was not only unable to resist, but even able to keep up with him. He just wanted to devour her.

Virgil, restraining himself from pushing his tongue further down her throat, sucked on the girl's lips, swollen from kisses. Enjoying that she was in his hands. Enjoying control. Dominance. Her submission and quietness.

Malina doesn't even realize what kind of monster is sitting above her. What it's doing to her body. That it's ready to tear apart anyone who dares to offend her. That he needed nothing but her beating red heart under her ribs.

Delicious, tasty little mortal. And all his.

"And what are you doing with her?"

Almost all his.

“Are you blind or do you need an explanation of what grown men do with pretty girls?” the furious traitor hissed. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to take her, I’m not an idiot. But there was no talk of kissing.”

“Too much. She’ll find out.” Luka’s blue eyes glittered furiously. His pupils almost disappeared when he looked at her reddened lips. Virgil almost cringed. Crazy bastard.

“Just tell her it’s all about the fruit drink and she’ll believe it.” Virgil relaxed as he saw Luka calm down. “Hah, and I almost thought you were worried about me stealing her first kiss. Do you really not love her as much as you said?”

The silence that followed the question and the scarlet cheeks were the best answer.

“Well, well, and he's accusing me.” - the man scratched his bald head irritably, trying to hide his disappointment in everything concerning Malina. The first one would always be the lamenter. - “And when?”

“When we brought her to the ship. I pecked her.” - Luka shrugged his shoulders as if nothing had happened.

“But I had a tongue!” - boyish joy almost overwhelmed the former flesh tearer, but quickly dissipated.

“I didn’t want to rush things on the first day. With the tongue, it was on the seventh night.” - the boy’s pale, freckled face turned red like a tomato, and his eyes sparkled. - “It lasted two seconds, but it was magical.”

A cheeky, cunning, stupid puppy. He made up the rules himself, but still breaks them. And yet, Bacchus was right. Only with the appearance of Malina did Luka become more manageable. If before he was simply the best warrior, now he got the opportunity not only to be the first to board, but also to enter the main halls of the Feast. Taking the girl away from him would be simply blasphemy in the opinion of the entire crew.

“It doesn’t matter, the first kiss will only count when she’s conscious. Eurydice reported we’ll be arriving on Hephaestus VI soon. And then there’ll be a feast. Bacchus said to bring Malina. Perhaps it’s the perfect time to finally make her ours.”

“Yes… she’ll be mine soon.” Luka whispered almost blessedly, ignoring Virgil. Bastard. So be it. He was only going to touch the girl when she was asleep anyway. No great loss.

For now, they needed to prepare for the massacre.

***

Luka and Virgil had strictly forbidden Malina to leave the quarters. Even on the very first day. But they reminded her of the rules again when they left the ship. As Luka said, Hephaestus-VI was attacked by heretics and they, the faithful servants of the God-Emperor, came to the rescue.

As he says.

The battle promised to last a long time. Therefore, they prepared everything necessary for the girl. If for some reason the operation lasted longer than expected, then she only needed to press a button. And then they would bring her food. The main thing is to hide in the bath.

But as Virgil said, putting the device on the shelf, this would only happen if all the food ran out. And there was enough of it in the quarters to live well and healthy for a whole month. So the girl hoped not to meet other inhabitants of the ship.

Two weeks had already passed.

It was hard to admit, but Malina realized that she missed them. It didn't mean that she wasn't afraid of them. She still was and would be. But over the time she spent with them (a month or two?) she had gotten used to them. They protected her.

Virgil was a monster, but he never dared to hurt her. He hardly spoke to her. If he had dark desires for her, he kept them deep inside. In the darkest night, when she couldn't see him.

And Luka... he loved her. He loved her. He cared for her. And even if Malina knew that the smell of blood followed him. And even if she didn't know his worst side. But she saw his smile. Cute freckles and blue eyes. Blue as the sky of her home world.

They were a new home in every sense of the word.

A sudden crash pulled the girl out of her thoughts. Malina looked at the door with fear. She heard moans and sighs coming from the hallway. But it was not like before. Not those distant screams that haunted her in distant nightmares.

Someone was right behind the door.

She should stay inside. She should hide in the bathtub. Turn on the water and take a shower. Wait for the sounds to fade. Wait for it to go away. But Malina's legs wouldn't obey. She followed the words pouring out of the mouth of... a man? Yes, it was a man.

He sounded like a boy. But old enough to join the army. Old enough and educated enough to know and memorize not just a prayer. But a sermon of the saints. And Malina herself knew that sermon quite well for her status.

It was the sermon of Saint Ignatius.

“And, ah, I saw, I saw the Saint herself. Descended from heaven at His call. And her light f-f-filled me. My soul sang. And I understood that H-His w-will is still, s-still, ah, s-still…”

“Strong,” the girl finished, pressing herself against the door. Malina herself did not notice how she did it.

“Not strong. Hard. Wait. W-what? W-who is there? Y-you here?” - Hearing the girl moan, the man pressed himself harder against the door, judging by the sounds. Scarlet blood slowly seeps over the threshold, forming a tiny puddle. - “Y-you believe in the God-Emperor? They also captured you? Are you safe?”

“Y-yes.” - the captive felt her heart beat with anxiety. But Luke and Virgil continued to play the defenders of the Imperium with her. She had no need to lie, no need.

“Oh, I thought, I-, ah, oh,” the man on the other side of the door was gasping for breath. With every sound he made, he was becoming more and more afraid. Malina realized that the prisoner was looking around. As if he was being followed. - “P-please, open the door for me. I-I was tortured. I-I, d-don’t even know how I c-could get out.”

Malina stared at the huge iron door. At that moment, it looked gigantic. The girl had never felt so small as at that moment. So defenseless. But she was protected. They were taking care of her. She just had to stay inside.

“C-can you hear me? H-help me.” - the man’s voice trembled. He was crying.

“I-I can’t. I can’t.” - the girl whispered, moving away from the gates leading to hell, back to her bed. Maybe this was a test? They wanted to make sure Malina was behaving well? She's good. She's very good, she won't open the door. Mom said not to talk to strangers.

Luke and Virgil will be angry.

"P-please open the door, they're close. P-please." The man was openly crying, weakly knocking on the door.

Sitting down by the bed, the girl only pressed her head closer to her knees, covering her ears. If only not to hear his pleas. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she prayed. But not to the God-Emperor. Not to the forces of Chaos. She just wanted Luka and Virgil to return to her quickly. The boy’s sobs and the girl's were almost in sync. Then the sound of feet was heard. And a nasty human laugh.

"No, no, no. Don't touch me, no. GOD-EMPEROR!"

But the God-Emperor did not answer his prayers. The boy continued to scream as people like him carried him away. All that was left was a pool of blood. And a girl crying in the dark. Who could not save him. Only delay the inevitable.

But she could save herself.

***

"Hey, hey, what happened?" - Luka gently stroked the back of the crying girl, who immediately threw herself into his arms. Not paying attention to his bloody armor from the battle.

Vergil, just like the lamenter, looked at Malina in surprise, clinging to the golden armor. He threw the bag with trophies and gifts for the girl on his bed before starting to take off his armor.

"There was a man here. He said that he served the God-Emperor. He said that he was being tortured by heretics." - The girl, with red eyes from tears, looked at Luka, not noticing his frightened expression. - "I didn't believe him! I didn't open the door. Angel, I was so scared."

The men looked at the poor girl, unable to utter a word. Was this the blessing of the Four Gods or the God-Emperor himself? No. But the red corsairs knew that they were incredibly lucky with Malina. No one would replace her.

"Everything is fine, everything is fine. The bastard has already been taken to prison. You did well not to let him in." - the blond tenderly grinned, stroking the girl's hair. At that moment, he could hardly be called an angel. - "We are proud of you."

"Yes." - Virgil exhaled. - "Good girl."

That day, they restrained themselves and allowed the girl to fall asleep quietly on her bed. The feast was approaching. They could wait a little longer.

[moodymisty]

Hi, it’s Lorgar anon crawling back in your askbox like some kind of vermin. The way you write is just so gorgeous that I can’t stop myself from unleashing a follow-up headcanon ask to what you’ve written. Sorry in advance:

Lorgar, as you have said, has the tendency to vehemently worship. But I’m now thinking of the implications of that on the worlds he conquered. I mean, isn’t he already walking around and preaching about how much of a god his father is? What’s stopping people from starting to view you in the same light?

Because if the son of god treats you as an equal and calls you beloved, and if his sons call you “mother”. What’s stopping some agri-worlder from speaking your name during a prayer? I suppose it’s only natural, it’s so obvious to them that you’re holy.

Basically what I’m trying to say is you might accidentally become a folk saint.

Did Lorgar start it? Probably not, or at least he did it by accident. Does he encourage it when he finds out about it? Maaaaaybe. Just maybe. He can have a little bit of worship, as a treat.

Cue to you taking a trip to Monarchia and seeing a little shrine in the corner of a temple that is definitely of you (but with a halo or something). And you’re like “Lorgar please explain”. And he’s like “Let’s not explain this in front of your worshippers”. And you’re like “my WHAT-”

Well, this x reader idea is all fun and games. That is if The Emperor never found out about it. Because if he does then ohhhh boy do you have a second terrible father in law on your hands! You sure as hell wouldn’t want that to happen. But i'm sure he’d never pay attention to a planet such as Monarchia, right?

Right??

I've always sort of leaned into this idea with the Lorgar fics that he loves to worship his beloved, but it's a precarious pedestal you could fall off of at any moment. Lorgar is fickle at best, and with people like Kor Phaeron and Erebus whispering in his ear.

And in the eyes of people below him, either his legion or the people of Colchis, if he's that way to you, then clearly you're something they should pray to as well, right?

If their Primarch, lord and master, whispers praises to you and receives love in return, if his sons call you mother and raise their swords at the slightest danger, then surely altars in their homes, mumbled kneeling prayers and rosaries would earn your love as well?

Worshipping a Primarch is one thing, and even if this is 30k and they're far less treated as gods as they will be, they still see them as something beyond them. So anything attached tends to get similar treatment.

But his human lover isn't that far beyond them. You were chosen, gifted by a father or picked out from a crowd of dedicated worshipers (the story twists and changes depending on the person telling it) and rose above all the rest. To his people that is attainable, that faith has rewards.

Needless to say finding out that it's a thing let alone that Lorgar is in some way unconsciously (or consciously) encouraging it is quite the shock. Though you more than likely have little chance at stopping it at this point. You at least can get somewhat used to it, as long as no one goes absolutely insane about it.

(Lorgar also loves all of this. One of his favorite nicknames for you now is that you're his little goddess. It's usually used in more, intimate scenarios however.)

The Emperor finding out... yikes. Yet another tally for him in the reason why he's going to burn Monarchia into ash. He might take note that you aren't the one encouraging this, but at the end of the day, you and Lorgar are lumped into the same pile now.

[rollofleaf]

Rogue Trader Character Building Questions

I decided to do the whole thing myself instead of waiting for asks because I wanted to. The full list of questions is here https://www.tumblr.com/pheedraws/754469722746241024/rogue-trader-character-building-questions?source=share

Arethousa von Valancius

Background

Arethousa is a voidborn. She was born on a small voidship that was the head of a small pirate fleet. The ship was cramped and ramshackle, but she does miss it often.

Her origin is Crime Lord, and before becoming a Rogue Trader she was commanding her small fleet of pirates and raiders. She considered herself an honorable pirate and avoided attacking smaller targets, focusing her raids on nobles.

Arethousa did have an excellent relationship with her father, who led her fleet before passing on command when he died. He taught her everything she knows about shooting, piloting, and command.

In story, her name doesn't have any special meaning or significance. Arethousa is the name of a Greek nymph who was transformed into a spring after fleeing from a river trying to violate her. 40K gives me an excuse to use Greek/Latin names for characters so I took it.

She has a very fond memory of the first time her father took her onto the ship's bridge and showed her around. She remembers being amazed at how much everyone seemed to respect him and she was very eager to learn about all the positions and jobs on the bridge.

Character & Convictions

6. Arethousa is mostly Iconoclast, with some leaning towards Heretical. She's pretty firm in her conviction, but most of her Heretical leaning gets ironed out as her story progresses.

7. Most of her Iconoclast leanings come from her father. She was taught that the best way to secure loyalty is to trust and believe in people and inspire them to do their best. Growing up in a close-knit community of pirates taught her to care deeply for her people.

8. Her triumph was managing to turn an entire star system into her den of thieves. She found a relatively backwater agri-world and 'liberated' them from some more tyrannical pirates, giving her somewhere to relax, get supplies from, or to lay low when necessary. She takes a lot of pride in it.

9. Her darkest hour was when her ship was disabled by envoys from the von Valancius dynasty who informed her of her heritage. Some of her crew turned on her for being a noble and while defending herself most of her gang was either killed or arrested by the authorities. She's haunted by it and it's given her some pretty major trust issues.

10. She initially took to it very poorly and wanted nothing to do with the dynasty. She even planned to run away and hide out once the ship reached Footfall, but Abelard managed to convince her that the dynasty wasn't so different from her old pirate crew and she slowly grew more comfortable with it.

Relationships

11. Arethousa is closest with Yrliet, Abelard, and Jae. Abelard very quickly becomes her surrogate father and they’re very supportive of each other. She relates to Jae as a fellow criminal with some skeletons in the closet, and appreciates that she refuses to be tied down by the dogma of the Imperium. She’s very drawn to Yrliet by how different she is from any human and it’s a welcome change to be with someone that lacks a lot of the pretext she dislikes in humans.

12. Arethousa and Heinrix clash constantly due to Arethousa’s flouting of Imperium law and her disrespect for authority. Heinrix’s unrequited crush on her makes things even worse. She also clashes with Marazhai, who she initially takes in out of pity but soon starts to resent having to constantly watch over him.

13. It takes a very long time for either of them to realize their bond is romantic, but she gets very close to Yrliet. Arethousa is ace and doesn't have much interest in romance, but the spiritual bond she develops during her meditation with Yrliet ends up blossoming into love.

14. The most important person in her life before becoming Rogue Trader was her father. Unfortunately, he died in a raid a few years before she became Rogue Trader.

15. She has some resentment towards Theodora for the way she was essentially kidnapped away from her old life. She had been on the voidship for a few weeks before the mutiny and had met Theodora a few times for mentoring on possible duties she could take over, but she kept her distance.

Skills & Expertise

16. Arethousa is an Operative into Bounty Hunter, though I may remake her into an Officer.

17. She’s a deadly shot, especially with a sniper rifle, and is very quick and slippery. She also excels at finding and exploiting weaknesses in enemy armor or formations. She’s very unskilled at melee combat, however, and tends to panic when she has to fight up close. She’s also pretty fragile and can’t take hits well.

18. She prefers subterfuge and coercion in combat, and generally avoids head-on confrontation. She’s used to being the void pirate who’s always outgunned but has surprise and guile on her side, and never grows out of that approach to combat.

19. She’s found the most success with Awareness, Persuasion, and Lore (Xenos). Knowing her environment and being able to deal with people is very important to her, and she’s had a lot of encounters and dealings with xenos.

20. She’s very fond of gardening. Growing up on a voidship, plants were extremely rare and the only ones she could usually see were those she grew herself. She cries at the beauty of it when she sees the jungles of Janus for the first time and later converts part of a deck on her ship into a greenhouse.

Appearance & Personality

21. She has a scar on her right cheek running down to her lip, and an intricate tattoo of flowers, thorns, and skulls all along her left arm.

22. She has a plate above her left ear that holds an eyepiece she uses to help aim her rifle. She also has two mechanical fingers on her right hand. She claims she lost the fingers in a gunfight, but she actually cut them off being very careless with a knife.

23. She carries herself as confident, friendly, and approachable, but with a vicious streak for those who cross her. This is fairly genuine, but she plays up her confidence and pretends to have much more faith in the Emperor’s doctrine than she really does. Yrliet is the only person she shows her honest unfiltered self to.

24. She believes that image is very important for a leader, so she cares a lot about how her protectorate sees her. She does her best to match the image she projects, but is often forced to be harsher than the benevolent Rogue Trader her protectorate sees.

25. For unknown reasons, her old pirate ship had a library of ancient texts and heretical tomes on xenos. This is where she learned a lot about xenos and the Imperium’s past glory.

[elbiotipo]

Some details on the economics of my space opera universe:

There is no faster-than-light radio or communication. All communication is done by extremely fast courier ships that transport data. Even then, information can take weeks or even months to travel from one side of the galaxy to the other. There is no such thing as the internet (though there might have been in other times) if you want to communicate, you have to be there physically.

Individual planets do often have fast communication networks. Ironically, in a way, planetary living might feel faster than life in space.

The most important resources are Non-Newtonian Elements (NNEs), which is a broad category for elements, molecules, or other such structures that do not conform to the regular laws of physics. They are the ones that are able to stabilize aether currents to allow faster-than-light travel, to siphon dark energy to boil water use in industry, and build the frame for great megastructures. among so many other uses, many very esoteric and unknown but to the most especialized engineers.

NNEs are as a rule difficult to find and extract. They are located near black holes, in the atmosphere of brown dwarfs, beneath panthalassic worlds covered in water... And to process them you need complex machinery and supply chains, many involving other NNEs themselves.

As such, these industries are either on state hands, or in the hands of galaxy-spanning megacorporations. (I am speaking in mostly human terms here, other civilizations have different economic systems)

Early space colonies (I dislike the term but let's go with it) were self sufficient, created by generation ships that slowly roamed the galaxy, "seeding" colonies and then moving to the next. So these "old worlds" often have diverse, well established economies.

While my original idea was to make slower-than-light relativistic generation ships, now I'm thinking that perhaps those huge ships were the first to be able to have FTL (if painfully slow), only to later be replaced by smaller, faster ships

FTL space has a *terrain* to it. FTL flight is not even; you can sometimes ride currents to the other side of the Galaxy faster than neighboring stars. There are regions hard to navigate and fast aether currents that span the galaxy. Most of the oldest and well known worlds are located as strings of pearls in those trade routes; the ones in the junctions of the routes have been settled by milennia with long histories.

Sometimes, aether currents change, with the corresponding economic consequences...

This is an economically unequal galaxy. It's not the planets richest in NNEs who are superpowers, rather it's those who are able, for one reason or other, to control their trade or production. While at first the pace of space settlement was mostly equal, those *nations* who were able to control the big NNEs sources for one reason or other quickly set the economic field on their favor. They often are able to sustain high standards of living based on their economic (and political, social, cultural, sometimes military) power over other worlds.

Thus, worlds especialized in a single industry have appeared. Or rather, have been forced into the role. Dependency theory and all that. "Agri-worlds" supply the big ecumenopolises, worlds with luxury products are converted for max production, strip-mining (asteroid mining is the main industry, but some NNEs are only found in certain worlds)... And as such, these worlds mostly import their manufactured goods from elsewhere. And are often home to exploited populations.

Yes, this does lead to the rise of revolutionary and socialist (both in the *human* marxist sense and other alien variants) movements and states. These have to grapple with the facts of ensuring a fair distribution of resources in such a vast galaxy (even small polities have this problem), to which there have been many theorical and practical answers.

In fact, there does exist the dream of the Socialist Galactic Republic, but it seems far away, and currently, megacorporations and unfriendly states seem to have the upper hand. Not everywhere, though.

Meanwhile, the smaller or more remote worlds who are not a big part of this whole economic chain often depend in their merchant marines for trade. For smaller deliveries, private travel, and such, there are countless "free traders" with small indepedent ships that take care of those routes.

Technology is practical and little automated, designed to be simple so it can be used by as many diffrent species as possible. Spaceships look a lot like WWII planes rather than sleek shiny futuristic spaceships. On an aesthetic note, they are often very colorful. Even the largest mega-cargo ships are painted with the liveries of their company, and small free traders decorate their ships with grafitti. The interiors often have small trinkets and pieces of home, and very often, home is the spaceship itself. I fucking hate grey spaceships.

There's actually no large scale galaxy-spanning wars. Moving a warfleet from one end to the Galaxy is ludricously expensive, and invading and controlling a world of billions a titanic challenge. The main powers of course keep large defense fleets, since bombardments from orbit are easy (and tragically have happened with genocidal consequences).

But there's lot of "police actions", anti-"piracy" (and often anti-revolutionary) patrols, guerrilla warfare, small scale skirmishes, showing the flag on trade routes... it's a whole different kind of warfare. If I had to say an equivalent, it's more like the ancient Mediterranean than any modern equivalent.

There's, as you can guess, no such thing as a "galactic empire" or republic or union or anything. There is a galactic "alliance" that sorts of keeps a semblance of international order (like the UN but very much weaker) and trade (often favoring the great powers) and supposedly, could coordinate actions against galactic threats.

(I am thinking in fact there might be a menace like rogue AIs or other stuff, in fact, there might be open war in some places, but that's still up in the air)

There is NO Universal Translator. If two different species meet, they have either to learn each other's language (that sometimes include visual, physical, olfactory, etc. elements, different sound frequencies) or agree in a "trade" language, and there are a few so widespread that most space-people understand it, but they are not universal. Inter-species communication is an industry on its own.

Even more, there's different languages in each civilization. Take the humans, for example. There's Tandar (from Standard) a very distant descedant of Mandarin with plenty of English and other borrowed vocabulary and a computer logical *system*, that is so widespread some people consider it to be the "human" language (and it's indeed one of the main "trade" languages, at least for visual and auditive species). But there are worlds with millions of humans who speak wholly different languages, with each world with its own dialects (and subdialects). These worlds have often been settled by generation ships, who have kept ancient human languages and dialects (like say, Kurdish, Tibetan, Rioplatense...) alive and often are different from the planetbound ones. And of course, there are many humans raised for generations in *alien* worlds, who speak languages with no relation at all with Mother Earth, and even find those alien and confusing.

And that's just humans. There are over four thousand and some spacefaring species on the Galaxy...

[piqu3d]

fervor of my guilty stars

summary:

The Council said that I can’t be a Jedi Knight,” Obi-Wan whispers.

“No,” Qui-Gon replies. “You cannot.”

OR: Obi-Wan has a stroke after Melidaan.

on ao3

on here:

If Qui-Gon had it his way, he would have left Obi-Wan alone. If he had it his way, he would have gone with the Agri-Corps to the Outer Rim and spent the rest of his life working his hands bloody, if only to experience a fraction of the callouses that Obi-Wan had to earn in that devastating war. If he had it his way, Obi-Wan would’ve long ago had a new Master, one who would be kinder and sharper than Qui-Gon ever could be.

It is Obi-Wan’s choice, though. It is only his request to remain Qui-Gon’s Padawan that keeps Qui-Gon’s feet on the ground in Coruscant. When Obi-Wan asks this of him, a few weeks after his return, Qui-Gon wants to cry. Obi-Wan asks him, as if it’s Qui-Gon who deserves a say in the matter after abandoning his one true mission on a war-torn planet.

It is unforgivable, to betray your child. It is the pinnacle of the Order’s culture: Younglings are little seeds planted in the dirt, and Padawans are a shy poke of green sprouting from the ground to seek the suns. It is a Master’s primary responsibility to protect them above their own life, no matter the written stipulations in their laws. Qui-Gon has ostracized himself from all he called family by leaving a boy whose gangly limbs were still growing into gentle power to the wolves, and he would expect no less.

Yet here he is, with his one light still relying on him, so his echoing steps through the Halls of Healing are hollow as he maneuvers a well-worn path to room 45HJ. When he knocks softly on the door, Obi-Wan’s “Come in,” is hoarse.

Qui-Gon opens the door, and Obi-Wan’s drawn face tells him that he already knows. The lamp on his side table illuminates the sunken features of his profile in a sickly yellow, and Qui-Gon makes a distant note to obtain purple lights to soften the room at night.

“So the Council said that I can’t be a Jedi Knight,” Obi-Wan whispers.

“No,” Qui-Gon replies. “You cannot.”

When Obi-Wan turns his gaze to the ceiling, Qui-Gon takes a seat in the well-worn chair next to his bed and folds his hands into his lap. This way, he will not reach out and cup his Padawan’s cheek or hold his hand. He has lost that right.

Instead, he allows his eyes to trace the thin edges of Obi-Wan’s cheekbones. His nose is crooked, as it has been since his return from Melidaan. There are dark bags under his eyes in an alarming shade of purple that makes him look decades older. The feeding tube in his nose is the third in as many weeks— the first he ripped out, and the second had a clog of some sort that ruined his ability to stomach anything for days. This one has Master Che crossing her fingers and lekku in hope. Obi-Wan’s ability to swallow should be getting better, but it inexplicably isn’t— just like his ability to walk or use the left side of his body at all. Che’s only explanation for it, after consulting with physicians across the galaxy, is that Obi-Wan’s already bad Force-exhaustion exacerbated the thinning of his blood vessels after he drained all of his energy to save the Young on Melidaan, and he paid the price with an irreversible stroke that stole his body while he slept. There’s no precedent for this kind of illness, and no prognosis for recovery. The Jedi Order prays with every dawn and every dusk that he makes it just twelve more hours. They are like a person walking on a rocky path, keeping their head faced down to the ground and addressing every obstacle as it comes, because if they look ahead, they will trip and fall.

“What else did they say?” Obi-Wan finally asks, toneless. There is a noticeable slur to his words that frustrates him, though he’s only had one speech therapist appointment so far.

“Not much. They hope for your ‘path to a new normal’ goes smoothly.” Qui-Gon pauses, and the heels of his palms rock against each other. “It’s alright to feel sad, you know.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head slowly, but hiccoughs almost silently— and then takes in a shuddering breath.

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon says, helpless but to watch as Obi-Wan’s eyes spill over with tears.

“I’m not sad,” he moans limply, “’M just exhausted.”

“I know. It’s alright. It’s… it will be alright,” Qui-Gon says lamely. He is glaringly inadequate for his grieving Padawan, and he swallows back self-hatred as he listens to his Padawan’s devastating sobs.

Eventually the cries peter out, and Obi-Wan is dully sniffing rivulets of snot back up his open nostril.

“Don’t do that,” Qui-Gon chides gently, spurred into action with something he can do, and he retrieves a tissue from the bedside table. Quickly, he wipes away the worst of the mess with a habitual tut.

“It’s miserable,” Obi-Wan whines, wiping at his bleary eyes with the thin wrist of his right hand. “It’s— I’m a mess.”

“You’re a mess?” Qui-Gon asks, and then laughs, slight and low. “Padawan mine, even deathly sick, you’re far more composed than many of those blasted politicians I contend with, or many of the Master Jedi themselves. They may seem aloof and holier-than-thou, but I assure you— even Master Yoda loses it on occasion.”

Obi-Wan’s lips twitch, but his face remains downcast. The crease in his forehead grows deeper, and Qui-Gon suppresses his urge to reach out and smooth it with his thumb, like he used to do to folds in Obi-Wan’s blanket. Another thought, then three, build up in his throat, but he says nothing. Using a tactic he’s known since Obi-Wan was below his hip, he will remain quiet and wait his Padawan out. The thoughts will peek out eventually; even since his stroke, Obi-Wan’s desire to form how he perceives the world into words will always trump his exhaustion.

The fruits of Qui-Gon’s silence bear quickly.

“Sometimes,” Obi-Wan murmurs thickly, “Since the stroke, but before it, too. I feel so… grey. Like a dustball underneath a dresser; as if all it would take is one good hit and I would… dissipate into infinitesimal bits. And it would, of course, be dark under that dresser. I’d disappear, but it wouldn’t matter, because I’m already so far under you can’t even see me. I…” he trails off. He’s lost his words, and his jaw works once or twice before he shuts his mouth for good.

It’s a strange metaphor, and Qui-Gon smothers his ripple of despair before it can seep beyond his shields and into the room. “There is no doubt,” he murmurs. “That a child— which you are— that is faced with so much would incline to feel this way— expected, maybe, though we would surely hope not.”

“‘M not a child,” Obi-Wan says, as he always does. “I fought in a war.”

The word war is trapped for a moment too long, like he’s gotten stuck on the vowel.

Qui-Gon has begged the stars for recompense to his Padawan and retribution towards himself. His prayers have clearly not been answered, and he shuts his eyes briefly before he replies. “You were a child,” he says evenly, as his nails dig marks into his palms. “You are a child who fought in a war.”

“Sure.” Obi-Wan looks up at him through narrowed, half-glazed eyes. The dull-yellow tape on his feeding tube is coming slightly loose, and Qui-Gon’s eyes instinctively watch it as it moves with Obi-Wan’s slow movements. The question that Obi-Wan asks, here, is missed by Qui-Gon until he repeats it, small: “What will I do now?”

Qui-Gon, finally unable to bear the degrees of separation sitting between them, dares to reach out and envelop Obi-Wan’s pale hand in his two. His Padawan’s hand is painfully cold. Engulfed in Qui-Gon’s grip, his fingers curl desperately into the warmth. “You will remain my Padawan— should you so choose. I will be meeting with the Council and Master Che one more time to fully assess your options, but Master Yoda has already assured me of your wanted presence in the Order. We— I gave you up once before, and I will not be doing it ever again.” Qui-Gon takes a moment to breathe and make sure his child hasn’t zoned out. No, Obi-Wan’s eyes have been whittled sharp, and he is very, very still. “It's true, you cannot be a Jedi Knight, at least not in the fashion you were heading towards,” he says grimly. “Your negotiation tactics will be missed, I am very well aware, but we cannot in good conscience send you on missions when your relationship with the Force and your body is so unreliable. However. The Healers would be delighted to accept you into their ranks as an Apprentice— in fact, Che has been raving to me about your curiosity about the procedures you’ve been undergoing, and your kindness towards other patients in the halls. You can forge a new bond; you don’t have to let this one go. Or you can—”

“I have options,” Obi-Wan interrupts weakly. “I get it.” He huffs shortly, and his eyes glisten again. “It just— I— it doesn’t feel possible, yet. I barely can see myself making it to the next kriffing physical therapy session, much less… a future. I can’t use my left hand at all, Master. I am… simply exhausted, all the time, and my head hurts when I attempt to form real thoughts and words and sentences.”

“It will get better,” Qui-Gon says. “I… I swear it to you.”

“So does Master Che,” Obi-Wan replies, voice awfully small.

“Well, Master Che is always right, is she not?” Qui-Gon says, with a light air of offense.

“No, of course,” Obi-Wan mumbles, but the right side of his mouth curls up. Though it disappears swiftly, it still happened, and Qui-Gon pockets the image behind a tight weave of his mental shields to revisit when the darkness seems all-consuming.

“We will discuss more tomorrow. I just didn’t want to keep you waiting with the news, though you… knew, already.”

Obi-Wan’s half-shrug is jerky. “There was only one way this could’ve gone.”

“There are so many ways this can go,” Qui-Gon replies firmly. “Look at me, child.”

Obi-Wan’s gaze creeps over, half-lidded.

“You have friends, Che and myself, and the entire Order by your side, do you hear me?”

“My left side?” Obi-Wan snarks through thick consonants.

Qui-Gon nods. “Your left side,” he echoes. “And, I can tell you this much, your recovery will not be alone, and it will not be cold, or barren, or clinical. We will wrap you in as many sweaters as can fit on your frame, and the Yoda medical tape that you requested— wonderful choice, by the way— will be delivered by tomorrow’s dawn, and of course your crechemates have been biting at the opportunity to paint your walker all sorts of colors. Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon repeats, and he has never meant anything so truthfully as this, “you have as much time, and as much space, and as much love as you need to heal. And when that healing plateaus, you will live a happy and fulfilled life, because you have so much to offer this world and I am certain that this setback will not only fail to stifle it but will provide an opportunity for you to grow into an even kinder, stronger person than you’ve already had to be.” He pauses, to be sure that he’s said what he needs to say, then nods decisively.

A sniffle. “Who knew you were so sappy, Master.”

“Alright, you little snot, it’s bedtime.” Qui-Gon rises and, after a brief hesitation, rests his hand on Obi-Wan’s head.

Obi-Wan smiles up at him with his right eye bright. “Goodnight, Master,” he slurs, sleep already encroaching upon him.

“Goodnight, Padawan mine,” Qui-Gon murmurs, and shuts off the lamp.

He waits in the dark for an indeterminate time, just to be sure that Obi-Wan’s breaths are deep and even, before he can even think of leaving the room.

drop by the archive to comment or kudos!

[asknarashikari]

Zox: Have you guys ever wondered which one of Random's sons are very comely? Ohtori Tsurugi: Huh? Are you that into one of them? Zox: No! Random would kill me. Magine: I bet one of his daughters is very beautiful too. But not like my Mist Swordswoman. Gaon: I have no interest in this convo but I do think his son Ozu Atsuhiro has that shio-gao ikemen look to him. Zox: Yaeh. Anyways. I think Weston Daimonji is really handsome, especially with that mix of foreigner look to him.

Zyuran, Vroon and Stacey: *sighs* *not even gonna bother with the conversation* Kaito: *tired and sleeping*

Bamba: I think his son Manobu Kiba is very handsome and has that shoyu-gao look. Koh: Is what we do when we're bored? Also I think, his first son with Ziin, Iso, is cute. He has that satou-gao ikemen look. Zox: Yep. Also, ain't he 114 years old? Koh: 198, actually. His older sister is around my age by one year. Ohtori Tsurugi: I think, his son Arno of the Landick Tribe is handsome. Tall with that shio-gao Ikemen look.

Shun Daimonji, Kai Ozu, Yuji Kiba, Ziin, Agri: KEEP OUR SONS NAME OUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTHS!!! Me: *standing tall and looming with dread* Who started this conversation...? WHO?!! Them: *points and Zox and Tsurugi* Me: You TWO...

One cartoonish beat-up later.

Me: *dusting off hands* I already have a favorite son-in-law. His name is Hareruya Win. So... Tsurugi and Zox: *behind bars* We won't bring up their names again unless we really mean it. Me: And? Both: We won't ask for their hands in marriage. Bamba: May I ask... *all chivalrously* Also, I promise not- Me: Sure thing since you asked nicely. Pick one and we'll see how it'll go.

[xenodile]

LAST TIME, ON ROGUE TRADER!

Having escaped the Rykad system and arrived on Footfall station, the Rogue Trader Abby von Valancius set about charting every single star system on the available map and doing every single side quest and optional encounter she could get her grubby little hands on.

Once the chores were taken care of, she dealt with the Valancious Protectorate worlds: Janus, Dargonus, and Kiava Gamma.

Janus was in the throes of rebellion, and in the course of investigating, the Rogue Trader discovered the rebels were backed by a small group of Eldar and the planetary governor was a Slaanesh worshiper. Gaining the aid of Aeldari Ranger Yrliet, the Rogue Trader killed the cultist governor, and negotiated a ceasefire between her people and the Eldar, allowing the xenos to continue living on the imperial agri world in secret.

Kiava Gamma's prime manufactorum had fallen to Chaos as the Fabricator Censor was seduced by infinite knowledge promised by the Ruinous Powers. After surviving another encounter with a Chaos Space Marine of the Word Bearers, preaching the power of Chaos Undivided, the Rogue Trader and company slew the heretical elements, and salvaged the Manufactorum to restore Kiava Gamma.

While Dargonus itself was mostly uneventful, the prison world of Vheabos VI had gone silent, and needed to be addressed before the Rogue Trader could formally take her place as head of the Protectorate and Rogue Trader. On the penal colony, the Rogue Trader encountered a group of loathsome Drukhari, or Dark Eldar, who had turned the inmates into gladiators for their amusement. While the eldar on the planet were dealt with, the encounter set in motion a game of cat and mouse as the Rogue Trader traveled hither and yon throughout her domain to stop Drukhari raids on various worlds, culminating in an encounter with the raiders leader, a man named Marazhai, on one of Rogue Trader Winterscale's border worlds.

Marazhai challenged the Rogue Trader to a final showdown, but it was a trap. While von Valancius sailed off to meet the Drukhari, Marazhai withdrew his forces to attack Dargonus in the largest attack the capital had ever seen. Though the Rogue Trader and her retinue succeeded in repelling the dark eldar forces, Marazhai escaped, promising he was not finished with our heroine.

After the dust had settled and the servants had cleaned up all the bodies, it was time for the ascension ceremony where the Rogue Trader would at last be properly recognized and take her place as lord of the Valancius Protectorate. Celebrations were lively and included feeding all the poor and needy of the capital world, and the Rogue Trader had a chance to meet the esteemed nobility of her dominion.

She also met Lord Inquisitor Xavier Calcazar, who had some choice words for the newly anointed Rogue Trader and some her more questionable decisions...letting xenos live on an imperial world, salvaging technology touched by heretics, choosing to save a handful of civilians rather than destroy a demon world in the making, keeping an alien in her retinue. While all technically within her rights as Rogue Trader, the Lord Inquisitor stressed that she should be mindful of such loose interpretations of Imperial law going forward, and be ready to cooperate with the Inquisition when called on.

The Rogue Trader and Magos Pasqal also make a startling discovery: the Rogue Trader's ship is alive. Or rather, it houses a Machine Spirit of incomparable power that displays true sapience and self-awareness, calling itself Nomos. The Rogue Trader recognizes it as "the Warrant Guardian", the voice that came to her aid against Kunrad Voigtvir, and the mysterious force that saved the ship from the destruction of Rykad Minoris. Could this entity be an ally, or something more sinister?

Finally, Yrliet met with the Rogue Trader in private to discuss news of great importance: she received coordinates to where some of her kin from the destroyed craftworld of Crudarach have taken refuge! So to the distant star system of the Atlas Reach the Rogue Trader goes, in search of new adventures!

What will happen in Chapter 3? Tune in and find out...now!

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

Brazil’s indigenous peoples mobilize to defend lands

Indigenous activists marched in this capital Tuesday as part of a mobilization to defend their “ancestral rights” to lands against what they see as threats emanating from Brazil’s Congress and Supreme Court.

The high court is set to take up a case based on the so-called temporal framework, a theory that contends indigenous people can only lay claim to land they occupied as of Oct. 5, 1988, when the current constitution was enacted.

While last week, the lower house of Congress passed a bill that would enshrine the temporal framework in law.

The Articulation of the Indigenous Peoples of Brazil (APIB) says that the temporal framework is being pushed by right-wing lawmakers acting on behalf of powerful agri-business interests who want to expand their activities in Amazonia.

Continue reading.

[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tag @somethingclevermahogony!

Five Senses Tag

Rules: share a snippet to represent each of the five senses (sight, sound, taste, touch, smell)

Let's see if Secrets of Salis (MG book 2) has anything good!

.

Sight:

Well, slather me in radium and call me a sorcerer…. Astra’s eyes grew wide as she took in the spotless streets and sculpted stucco columns. It was like stepping from hell into heaven. Fountains made flowing music on every corner and there were even decorative pines in planters along the sidewalks. Every window frame was plated in brass, turned luminous by the wrought iron gaslamps.

And the people! For once in her life, Astra saw no humans, goblins, or selkies to balance things out—just a sea of white and gray faces framed with donkey-like ears. The elves here dressed in delicate pastels, not even the ash from the foundries beyond daring to cross the inner wall. Most walked at a stately pace, shooting her vardo the sort of well-bred glares the witch was accustomed to in Yewbury.

“This place is fuuuucked,” she whispered.

Sound:

The shades giggled as she tried to breathe heavily, but the air wouldn’t come. This time, they sounded like little Agri and Twayun who’d lived at the end of her street.

At the end of this street though, Vermir could finally see her destination. She hadn’t been certain of the location, hence why she’d set down the door a ways away. It wasn’t like she’d really been in Unity for that long, despite haunting it for nearly a year. Even so, getting the directions wrong galled her.

Taste:

Astra awoke slowly and miserably. The first sensation that came back to her was, unfortunately, taste. This was unfortunate because her mouth tasted like a week-dead mushroom.

Touch:

The second sensation to return was touch. This was even more unfortunate for two reasons. One, she was tied to a chair. Two, she was dressed in the itchiest, most unflattering shift known to man.

Smell:

Mashal gave a lungless sigh. “We’re getting close…”

Astra laughed from her place within the vardo. “Sure are! When you can smell the pig shit, you’re officially within the city limits of Nakaow. I’m pretty sure that’s the law, at least.”

“I don’t have a sense of smell.” Mashal tapped his sculpted bronze and steel nose for emphasis.

The witch winced at her misstep, then suddenly took on a thoughtful expression. “You know, I could try n’ build ya one. I fixed you up with those temperature sensors and that new arm on the way down—I reckon smell wouldn’t be too much of a bother after alla’ that.”

Briefly, Mashal actually considered it, before shaking his head. “No, I think we have bigger things to focus on right now. And I though I don’t remember what pig shit smells like, I’m pretty keen on keeping it that way.”

This was surprisingly difficult with one of my two protags missing three of his five senses

I'll tag @mysticstarlightduck @abalonetea @elizaellwrites and anyone else who wants in :)

[puppetrevival]

SpookHammer 40k

Me : "Im going to make a Spooky Month Au crossover"

The Au Crossover in Question :

Lore

It is the 41st Millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor of Mankind has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by the will of the gods and master of a million worlds by the might of His inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the vast Imperium of Man for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day so that He may never truly die. Yet even in His deathless state, the Emperor continues His eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the Warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor's will. Vast armies give battle in His name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst His soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defence forces, the ever-vigilant Inquisition and the Tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat to humanity from aliens, heretics, mutants -- and far, far worse. To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be relearned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods… and the sorrow of The Stars who can do nothing but watch.

Also It's more based on the Tts Canon than The Real one

Characters 

Skid : Human Descendant of The Emperor of Mankind (aka a Sensei… he’s the last of them), found by Lila and Frank when he was a baby during an invasion of an Agri-World led by Velseb The Eternal. Live in The Imperial Palace with his adoptive mother

Pump : Skid’s Best friend and The Son of the Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes and one of the leaders of the Tau Fire Warriors (Shadowsun) though he’s more human than Tau Kitten’s Note: THIS IS NOT FUCKING CANON… about the “he’s half Tau” and The Fact that his mom is a Tau. Live in the imperial palace with his Father who is taking care of the Emperor

Lila : Skid’s Adoptive mother (which kinda make her The Emperor’s Daughter in Law) and a Sister of Battle of The Order of the Ebon Chalice (and later on became a High Lord of Terra as the Abbess of the Adepta Sororitas after Roboute Guilliman came back), have to stay in the imperial palace after finding the Human Descendant of The Emperor (she knew that after The Emperor told her that by using telepathy).

Frank (Nicknamed Franktacular by Boy) : an Imperial Fist who is a close friend of Lila. Live in The Imperial Palace as a request by Lila

Pump’s Father : The Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes and Susie’s Adoptive Father/Mentor ,  goes by the nickname “Kitten” by "The Fabulous Custodes”. He’s the reason Lila and Skid stay in The Imperial Palace after Lila told him that The Emperor telepathically told her that Skid is his Descendant… with the Emperor telepathically telling him as well. 

Susannah (Susie for short): Shield-Captain of the Aquilan Shield of the Adeptus Custodes and The Captain-General’s Adopted Daughter (He found her as a baby during The Horus Heresy, unfortunately her real parents didn’t survive...). Also treats Pump as her little brother. and probably The one of the two custodes who keep their sanity (the other being her father)

Morgana : The Sister-Commander of The Sister of Silence and Susie’s best friend

John Yarrick : An Imperial Guard Commissar famous for his participation in the Second and Third Wars for Armageddon, in which he twice fought against the Ork forces of Warlord Ghazghkull Mag Uruk Thraka. got a Power Klaw to replace the arm he lost in combat.

Jack: a Kriegsman who is friend with John Yarrick and Patty… which gave him a reason to live

Patricia Azure/ Patty : a Tech-priest of the Adeptus Mechanicus who is assigned to maintain the Emperor’s Golden Throne. Have a collection of “Ancient Technology”

Marneus Calgar : The current Chapter Master of the Ultramarines. have depression due to having too many repeated winning streaks. He is also bitterly annoyed by the existence of Him, Kevin Sicarius

He, Kevin Sicarius : He, Kevin Sicarius is the Captain of the 2nd company of the Ultramarines, Master of the Watch, Knight Champion of Macragge, Grand Duke of Talassar, and High Suzerain of Ultramar and as such no foul Xeno could ever hope to outmatch his legendary swordsman skill also He, Kevin Sicarius is very handsome. Everyone wishes to be great as Him, Kevin Sicarius and the only one worthy to be The Next Ultramarines Chapter Masters which of course will be Him, Kevin Sicarius. He, Kevin Sicarius is an insufferable glory hound who speaks in a falsetto voice, and always refers to himself as "I, Kevin Sicarius." He, Kevin Sicarius, is the personification of everything wrong with the Ultramarines, as he, Kevin Sicarius, flawlessly executed otherwise impossible missions with the greatest of ease and in the most obnoxious manner possible.

Archmagos Belisarius Cawl : a tech-priest of the Adeptus Mechanicus. He is a close ally of Roboute Guilliman, the chief architect behind the Primaris Marine project and Patricia/Patty’s Father Figure.

Ecclesiarch Mancclesiarch Gregor XXIII : Head of the Adeptus Ministorum, has a hatred towards Evermore Karamazov. Very annoyed that The High Lords Of Terra make fun of his hat all the time

Jaune Greyfax : an Inquisitor who was imprisoned within a Tesseract Vault by the Necron Overlord Trazyn the Infinite for centuries until she was released, along with his other prisoners. She’s now the Representative of the New Inquisition (created by Her, Roboute Guilliman and the Emperor). Definitely didn’t slept many time with Saint Celestine 

Lord Inquisitor Evermore Karamazov : Lord Inquisitor and one of the first adversaries to appear once the Emperor began his attempts at reforming the Imperium. Later on became the Star-Everemperor

Boy : a serf that has been commanded by the Emperor to manage the vox equipment for the Emperor's podcast (a podcast with Him, “Kitten”, Rogal Dorn, Lila, Patty, Frank and later on Guilliman). He Look up to Dorn and Frank since he always wanted to become a Space Marine

Mokey Draigo : the Supreme Grand Master of the Grey Knights.

Magnus The Red : The Primarch of the Thousand Sons, and fifteenth son of the Emperor.

Roboute Guilliman : The Primarch of the Ultramarines, and the thirteenth son of the Emperor and now Lord Commander of the Imperium who is helping his father to reform the Imperium

Rogal Dorn (Nicknamed Adornable by Boy) : The Primarch of the Imperial Fists, and seventh son of the Emperor, was disguised as a centurion who was in Frank’s order

Ghazghkull Mag Uruk Thraka : The leader of the Goffs clan, and the Warboss with the single largest army of Orks in modern history.

Yvraine : an Eldar who serves as the emissary for the newly awakened Eldar God Ynnead. and she’s also Roboute Guilliman’s girlfriend

Trazyn the Infinite : an ancient Necron Overlord of the Nihilakh Dynasty noted amongst his kind as a keeper of history and a preserver of artifacts and events on the Tomb World of Solemnace.

Commander Shadowsun : One of the leaders of the Tau Fire Warriors. The true reason why Kitten hated the Tau; it was because Shadowsun broke up with him to fight for the Greater Good, and because the fact she gave birth to Pump and that the custodes kill him if they found out about it Kitten’s Note : OHISWEARTOFUCK THAT WAS NOT FUCKING CANON, SHADOWSUN ISNT AND NEVER WAS HIS MOTHER! …but it turns out not only the other Custodes know about it they actually let him live Kitten’s Note :  NOT FUCKING CANON  and in fact keep their secrets away from the inquisition Kitten’s Note : NO NO NO NO NOT FUCKING CANON

Ahzek Thinriman : the First Captain of the Thousand Sons, a Champion of Tzeentch and the most powerful Chaos Sorcerer of the Thousand Sons Traitor Legion after the Daemon Primarch Magnus the Red himself. He has a strange fixation with "murdering the stars."

Velseb The Eternal : a member of the Emperor's Children, and a Champion of Slaanesh. Slaanesh has granted him a special form of immortality where if the person who slays him feels any satisfaction over the kill, that person will become the new Velseb.

Ignacio Bile : The Chief Apothecary of the Emperor's Children, and a powerful figure among the Chaos Space Marines. He is an expert geneticist, having created clones of even the Primarchs. Unlike most of the Emperor's Children, Bile does not follow Slaanesh, instead he devotes himself to science, and research into the creation of Space Marines.

Thiephus : The Death Guard Lord of the Death Guard Traitor Legion's 1st Plague Company, and the host of the terrible plague known as the Destroyer Hive. He is a Champion of Nurgle, a Death Guard Sorcerer and the former first captain of the Death Guard Legion. Thiephus is also the most feared of all Chaos Lords to command one of the legendary Plague Fleets.

Rich the Betrayer : a Chaos Space Marine of the World Eaters Legion. Rich is the greatest of all the Champions of Khorne, second only to the Daemon Prince Angron in power. He is the avatar of Khorne, embodying that god's indiscriminate rage and bloodlust.

Canbaddon the Despoiler : The Warmaster of Chaos, the former First Captain of the Sons of Horus Legion and now absolute Master of the Black Legion, and rumoured to be the clone-progeny of Warmaster Horus. He is the most powerful Warmaster of all, successor to Horus, and blessed by all four of the Gods of Chaos. Despite being the Warmaster of Chaos, Canbaddon has refused to give himself fully over to the Ruinous Powers as the Daemon Primarchs have, as this would limit his existence beyond the Eye of Terror and push his ultimate vengeance against the Imperium beyond his grasp.

The Emperor of Mankind : The sovereign ruler of the Imperium of Man, and Father, Guardian, and God Man of the human race. He has sat immobile within the Golden Throne of Terra for ten thousand years. Although once a living man, His shattered body can no longer support life, and remains intact only by a combination of ancient technology and the sheer force of His will, itself sustained by the soul-sacrifice of countless millions of psyker. As he now has a text to speech device (which was found by Skid and Pump while looking at Patty’s Collection of “ancient technology” that she “found”) the Emperor is able to speak to his subjects once more… and is very pissed with what they've done to his Imperium.

The Eyes of the Universe : a Old God who helped The large group of psychic shamans to perform the ritualistic form of mass suicide since he’s the one who fused their souls and psychic powers to create The Emperor of Mankind. Got sealed away By Tzeentch, Khorne, Nurgle and Slaanesh and can do nothing but watch The Galaxy and feel sad about its current state… but however before that he managed to put a figment of himself to an alternate universe where a cult worship him which will set him free of the prison and defeat the four Chaos Gods

[supermoongirl9]

Thoughts about the Saturn in Pisces transit

Saturn in Pisces vs bringing a lot more issues with the overall gestion of water everywhere : either because it had been contaminated or because there's just not enough; eventual destructive floods; sea wars; international disputes over the control of certain areas in the ocean; Russia pushing more and more to have military bases near any sea and ocean they can access; countries using more and more potable water as a currency and something to negotiate over; agri-food groups owning water sources becoming even more powerful than before; China vs Taiwan taking another turn; Indonesia becoming more powerful than its neighbors. Also random remark but sectors that could be very profitable to work in could be related to maritime law, anything related to fishes (marine biologist or fishery sciences etc), oceanography....

I fear that a lot of people could want less and less to help people around them, like a certain weariness about mutual aid, esp online when it's people you don't actually know (and that's also why people could go back to religious structures, it'd bring them an actual community).

Saturn in Pisces vs bringing more official regulations about spiritual business : a lot of people aren't declaring their income properly to their country's tax services and it could become an actual issue; spiritual businesses could be taxed more/even forbidden in some places. Even if you are unsure of which direction your business will take, if your name is very significative and most people know you that way, register a trademark with it can be very good (yes it is spending money now, but it is to gain more after so). If you're taking astro, tarot or else seriously and really want it to be your actual livelihood, it's not just fun and vibes, knowing about regulations and the law generally speaking is important !

[tunneldweller]

the election results are... not terrible, not excellent. the formerly ruling party will not be able to form a gov't even with the aid of even-further-right whackjobs; they did get the most votes, so the president might nominate them to try and govern anyway [he's their appointee]. the oppo coalition, consisting of big name rightish-leaning-centrist neolib party, "we're catholic but a tad less authoritarian about it"+agri party conglomerate, and several-flavors-of-leftism alliance, has 248 seats all together and will be able to outvote them in the lower house of parliament. [the prez can always veto, but we'll burn that bridge when we get to it.]

the leftist roster did worse in the senate election than the flat-earthers and their 26 seats in the parliament are an underwhelming result. possibly due in part to strategic voting, as the oppo coalition's messaging was "plz make sure the nice catholics get in too" so some people switched their votes.

another concern: the two biggest parties are infamous for pretty much trading the same people back and forth after elections, so if enough pis disappointees roll up to pinky swear they've changed for real this time, they could further marginalize the leftist voice in the coalition. some folks are saying Tusk had learned his lesson over those 8 years and his time in Brussels; I deeply hope he did, but it remains to be seen.

and the nice catholics are already saying there will be no party discipline wrt the proposed liberalization of abortion law, which was a major topic of the campaign. I am Jack's complete lack of surprise.

[silverspleen]

I have an OC question, any girls?

I mean yes, but I won't apologize for my blatant bias towards male characters. But it's very present.

You'll like Titan best I think. She's a Warhammer 40k OC, and the daughter of an Inquisitor who settled on an agri planet with a farmer lady he liked. Titan is his genestealer mutant daughter, she was born looking uncannily human and didn't develop her genestealer traits until she was older, in direct contrast to normal 1st gen genestealers. Basically this girl hit puberty and started growing extra limbs and weird armor and huge fangs. She's also significantly larger and smarter than normal, and has some mild psyker abilities. After her parents passed away she used her extensive knowledge of inquisition tactics (thanks dad!) combined with her genestealer canniness to take over her planet and start inserting her children, grandchildren, and greatgrandchildren into every aspect of planetary life.

Spooky South wise, the same setting Jake and basic bitch no AU Silas live in, I have Eliza, Friday, and Lillian.

Eliza is werecat James' ghost girlfriend/sugar baby. She helps both James and Silas out mostly for selfish reasons (they're hot and she want to bone them, also they get into SO much shit it's entertaining). Her attitude toward being dead is like "ooooh guess I can do what I want now >:3" and is a huge party girl and fashion diva. She's the brunette with branches and flowers growing out of her partially skeleton face that I've posted here a few times. She has notably powerful ghost abilities and can control plants to some degree as well.

Friday is the like, classic angsty monster hunter, her husband got killed by supernatural nonsense (James again) and she didn't handle it well and is basically in a very deep "dig two graves" revenge mindset. She spends basically all of her time prepping to hunt and hunting, mostly using surplus military gear, hunting gear, and sports equipment. She mellows out a little after she gets like... found family to hunt with.

Lillian, is the Found Family to hunt with that Friday gets, she was Silas' old cop partner but their paths almost completely diverged, he got so corrupt that he was bored with standard cop corruption and moved on the full criminal, and she got so bone-deep tired of official law enforcement corruption that she left the force completely. She's basically a private investigator now and works/lives with with Friday as her like... platonic life partner and they investigate supernatural stuff. Silas used to have a crush on her, but Lillian is very ace and he was savvy enough not to make it weird, it was just one more secret for the pile. Lillian (and their third team member Johnny) is the like "let's not be hasty and just randomly execute supernatural creatures" part of the team and basically took the knowledge of the supernatural existing with nothing but grace and patience.

Also I have various RP characters and character concepts that haven't been fully developed yet too so there's that.

Jennifer - RP character, a very normal teenage girl who's courier job basically got her involved in the supernatural and she cried into her iced coffee about it. </3

Ran - my Starbound character, a hylotl (alien amphibian people with a heavy japanese culture inspiration). I miss her and need to play again. She's very softspoken and kind and likes to stab things with the fart spear (toxic gas spear Q gave me that I adore).

"Mace" - in development, a mercenary who works escorts dinosaur embryos, she's got that "pathetic until she's super invested in a job and then becomes super efficient" thing going on. Ned to draw her more because I've been craving "dinosaurs and modern tech" stuff again.

Mother of Sin - big tiddy worm lady, a demon. Probably in the Spooky South setting if I can hammer her worm form down, though she's a little too fantasy leaning for the setting.

I keep trying to manifest another nasty trash dumpster girlfriend for Silas but so far nothing has stuck but it's always in the back of my mind.

I've also got monster lesbians but they're loose concepts and more just for drawing for fun. Plus some designs that need developing.

[alamorcd]

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[gianpaolozini]

Attorney Gian Paolo Zini

An internationally recognized expert in Sustainable Responsible Investments, ESG Finance, M&A, Private Equity & Venture Capital International Investments,Technology & Innovation, and International Trade & Business Development, as well as an accredited CG/LA Infrastructure expert, Gian is Co-Founder and CEO of C&Z GLOBAL Advisors (www.cz-globaladvisors.com), a multidisciplinary advisory firm, connecting North America with the entire Global Economy (awardee of the 2023 Mountain States, Best Infrastructure and Economic Development firm), Of-Counsel in the Strategic Consulting Division of the Italian Law Firm Lexant (https://www.lexant.it), responsible for the North American Desk (International Trade & Investments | M&A |Private Equity & Venture Capital | ESG & Sustainability | Sustainability Finance), and formerly Founding Team Member, Director and EVP of ESG & Sustainability, Corporate Governance and Investors Relations at Sfeer Corp (https://sfeer.tech/), fully integrated B2B SaaS trading eco system SaaS Cloud solution, providing real-time marketplace for physical Agri commodities and all trade services.

Avvocato Gian Paolo Zini

[academiceurope]

Job - Alert 🚀

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