#Tlatia

[ask-thedawnseekers]

Remember, even when the light goes out, hope endures.

-@tlatia-the-radiant

Solana looked down at the message and then up at the insignia of her legion. Nodding silently to herself.

"Indeed it does."

It was hard to remember that sometimes, even in the thick of it all. But she knew hope endured. It was a cornerstone of humanity and one of its greatest strengths.

[askthelordofiron]

“No.”

"Ignore them, intimate companionship is a distraction more than anything."

[lucifer-s-understudy]

Tlatia a.k.a. Primarch. (Ibrahem Swaid)

Someone named Female Primarch #2 already her name is Micte Mori (allegedly) so this one can be #11

"who cares, she not cannon" feels...wrong to say... but call her what you like. I'm calling her Prmrch#11

[tlatia-the-radiant]

How tall are you? I know you’re on the shorter side but can Perturabo or someone annoy you by petting you like a dog?

My siblings save Alpharius can annoy me by petting me like a dog solely because all of them are between two and three feet taller than I am. I'm about 2.3 metres tall--or for those that operate by other metrics, 7.8ish feet. (Why the Imperium can't standardize their measurement systems, I will never understand.)

Before any of them make a snide comment: I can still get stuff off the top shelf by myself. The fact that none of you grew up climbing to the tops of Hive spires for fun is your problem.

[divinituscaptivus]

Her face was contorted with eleven thousand years of simmering fury. Eleven thousand years of injustice drove her as she approached her father.

He was a withered corpse no longer. Whether that would be a boon for him or a downside was up for debate; one of them would've spared him his daughter's wrath.

"You," Tlatia, Eleventh Daughter of the Emperor and Angel Born of the Radiant Dawn, snarled. "What the hel is wrong with you?!"

-@tlatia-the-radiant

The ancient could only muster up a resigned sigh. He expected this. He expected wrath, he expected an outburst. She was singular amongst his children, bright and fiery like a star, and like a star, it took immeasurable power to tame her. She did not know what it took to bring him her. She did not know of the fire and blood and ruin that heralded his rebirth. of course she didn't. Only one of his children was aware of what his death and rebirth would mean for Terra, and it was the one who he'd had build the wretched device that burned the Throneworld to ash. "The better question is 'what is right with me?'." And the answer, of course, was nothing. @tlatia-the-radiant

[tertiusdecimusfilius]

Ships passing in the night usually didn't see one another.

Usually.

It took a mere twenty minutes from the destroyer-escorts of the Ultramarines and the Dawn Legion discovered each other until the time that the twin fleets were facing off side-by-side, rows of macrocannons staring down Lance batteries like fleets on ancient Terra with decks of cannon aimed and ready.

"Macragge's Honour," Celaya muttered, mild disbelief ringing through her tone. "The same markings, the same iconography, the same support fleet."

"Roboute never was particularly fond of changing what works," Tlatia replied.

Alarms blared throughout the ship as the Ultramarine fleet was brought to full combat readiness and the Dawn Legion did the same. Marines, both superhuman Astartes and mortal shipboard defense crews, rushed to their battle stations with weapons at the ready. Damage control teams went to standby alert. Weapons crews plotted firing solutions and prepared their guns, either charging them or loading them with colossal macrocannon shells.

The twin fleets sat there for five agonizing minutes, guns ready and drawn, shields high and humming. Five minutes of infinite chances for bloodshed ticked by before a message was sent.

"This is the Dawnbringer, hailing Macragge's Honour."

The other fleet hadn't made an attack yet which put him a little at ease. However, both fleets were ready for a battle, should it come down to it. Roboute stared at the ships opposite them, eyes wandering over the shape of the ships, the colors, the symbols.

They looked familiar. It wasn't something his mind could place right away. There was a nagging sense that he should know, that he knew, this other fleet. It wasn't the same feeling he'd gotten when he'd first met Aurelius and discovered the remnants of the second legion all those months ago. But this was certainly similar. The Primarch chewed his bottom lip. The name of the flagship escaped him.

His mouth opened to give the order to hail the other ship, but before he could, the voxmaster piped up. The other ship was hailing them.

"Open the frequency," Roboute ordered. The Dawnbringer? The name rung a bell, but-

There was the familiar spark of pain in his head. It only confirmed the feeling he had about this. It was likely that this was the other lost legion. Though it was strange. He couldn't remember much about them, probably from whatever power Malcador had used to erase the existence of the two legions. However it wasn't causing the same level of pain. Either the eleventh had been as thoroughly scrubbed from existence as the second, or having already remembered the second was making it easier to remember the eleventh.

"This is Macragge's Honour. What business do you have within this sector, Dawnbringer?" he asked.

[ravenladycorvus]

The Raven's wedding (wedding event)

@askrobouteguilliman40k @ladywarhawk @crimsonqueenmagnus @hammer-of-olympia @lady-sanguinius @lady-archpriest-lorgar-aurelian @female-angron @lionessjonson @askthephoenician @askthelordofiron @tired-space-politician @tlatia-the-radiant @the-emperorofmankind @lady-death-guard @askthesecritivetwins @alpharius-omegon @askthewanderer40k @askthecaptaingeneral

Corvus looked at herself in the mirror in the room she was in, the wedding preparation went well but why she suddenly felt wary and nervous. She had never been married before, and even worse that she thought some kind of expectation from everyone or worse her own creator/father the emperor during the ceremony even though it was just a small private wedding. "okay corvus, it's just a handful of people...you don't need to be very nervous about it" she said to herself trying to reassure her doubtful mind while the seamstress is adding the final touches on her wedding dress

[crimsonqueenmagnus]

A Custodes and Tlatia are fighting verbally.

"mmm... not even slightly concerning." Magnus retorts with a shrug of her shoulders. "Anyone want a daiquiri? I even have the cute little umbrellas."

[rogue-trader-samuel-drakon]

@askrobouteguilliman40k @ladywarhawk @crimsonqueenmagnus @hammer-of-olympia @lady-sanguinius @lady-archpriest-lorgar-aurelian @female-angron @lionessjonson @askthephoenician @askthelordofiron @tired-space-politician @tlatia-the-radiant @the-emperorofmankind @lady-death-guard @askthesecritivetwins @alpharius-omegon @askthewanderer40k @askthecaptaingeneral

Wedding event has started on Corvus' blog.

[askthelordofiron]

There's a light rapping at your chamber door, accompanied by just the slightest sense of dread.

"May I come in?"

By this point, you'd recognize your not-so-lost sister's voice anywhere.

“What now Tlatia, come to tell me my wrongs?”

[forgottnseccnd]

The knock at his door was a little bit tentative; unusual. Aurelius opened it anyway.

"Auri," Tlatia greeted. "I—wanted to ask, because I care about you. Are you... doing okay? With everything? Do you want to talk?"

The words 'I won't fail you again' hung unspoken in the air.

///

@tlatia-the-radiant

An auramite hand pulled the door open, and icy eyes met Tlatia's when he was greeted by 'Auri'. " I am fine. " Aurelius spoke, stoic as can be just like how he used to be-- his helmet hid any expression of his. The Primarch, though, frowned. Her tentative nature was... not normal, from what he could remember. He looked down to her.

" ... but I know you had been struggling, after... after what I did to you. "

The guilt made the air feel thick enough to slice through with a blade. Aurelius moved aside, to let his sister in. Aurelius shifted slightly-- for once, he had been wearing a long wide overcoat with a few sets of robes, going from a deep blue at the main layer presented to a white-and-gold after different shades of blue as different layers as the first layer. He hadn't removed his helmet yet, it seemed.

" Come in. I... I wanted to apologize about what I did. In the engines deck. "

[rxgeincarnate]

"Look at what I am, Sister. Look at my claws and teeth, my tail and hooves. This wretched form was always lurking beneath the man-skin I wore. This is the shape of my soul, Tlatia, a beast, a monster, a murderer! There is nothing left to love!!" @tlatia-the-radiant

Be honest, do you really hate hugs, or are you just so down on yourself that you don't feel like you deserve them despite the fact that people still love you?

"You are a fool, Stranger! No one living loves me; they cannot! There is no part of me that can be loved. I am a monster!"

[lucifer-s-understudy]

Tlatia: The 11th Primarch. (artist unknown)

[tlatia-the-radiant]

"Sister, Mother's back. Just FYI. Also, she's not very happy."

I heard. Come to shout and kvetch that we failed her vision, no doubt, like the abusive hypocrite she is.

I remain safe simply knowing that any dedication of resources towards attempting to kill my Legion to the last (for the second time) would compromise other, more important areas. The Imperium's inability to ever conclusively finish a conflict is keeping me alive. It'd be more of a comfort if it didn't waste so many lives.

Mother, if you're reading this: burn.

[ravenladycorvus]

Sister, I come bearing... interesting news.

Recently, I was involved in a foray into territory held by the Word Bearers. We engaged in a hit-and-run campaign, sniping from afar, and my scouts observed that many of our foes began to curse the Raven. Several even demanded to be brought to the Raven upon capture.

So I ask... what, in the name of the Sun and the Stars, did you do to traumatize an entire warband?

@tlatia-the-radiant

"Oh this is going to be a long story but basically..... I terrorize them mostly their primarch lorgar as the Raven daemon in the warp for 10.000 years" Corax said while taking a sip from her tea

[divinituscaptivus]

She was right. She was right and he knew it. Ten thousand years ago, he may have fought the accusation. He may have raised a wall of psychic fire. He may have lashed out and lashed out fiercely. There were worlds where he was named the Tyrant of Tyrant for good reason. By all rights, he should have done so again. He should have presented his errant offspring with an overwhelming show of strength, a reminder of why he earned his title. But he did not deserve that title, not any more. Kusig Alad wished he burned along with Terra, He wished he had the luxury of death, of his soul falling into the mouth of some great daemon so he would never have to think about his regrets every again. He wished he didn't have to rise like a phoenix every time, to rise from the ashes only to find ruin in his wake. The former Emperor had no fight left in him, not any more, not after so long.

"I iwsh I did, Tlatia. I wish that after so long I could simply throw myself of my empire's pyre and never endure such misery again. I know what you want. You want my blood!" Without a word, the ancient produced a shard of black volcanic glass. It was all that was left of his home; just glass and ash and silence. It was a piece of Terra he could take with him, just another monument to his failures. He ran it's sharp edge down the length of his arm, the very same that was saturated by the scars of his last battle. "Have it!"

Her face was contorted with eleven thousand years of simmering fury. Eleven thousand years of injustice drove her as she approached her father.

He was a withered corpse no longer. Whether that would be a boon for him or a downside was up for debate; one of them would've spared him his daughter's wrath.

"You," Tlatia, Eleventh Daughter of the Emperor and Angel Born of the Radiant Dawn, snarled. "What the hel is wrong with you?!"

-@tlatia-the-radiant

The ancient could only muster up a resigned sigh. He expected this. He expected wrath, he expected an outburst. She was singular amongst his children, bright and fiery like a star, and like a star, it took immeasurable power to tame her. She did not know what it took to bring him her. She did not know of the fire and blood and ruin that heralded his rebirth. of course she didn't. Only one of his children was aware of what his death and rebirth would mean for Terra, and it was the one who he'd had build the wretched device that burned the Throneworld to ash. "The better question is 'what is right with me?'." And the answer, of course, was nothing. @tlatia-the-radiant