#it seemed like the kind of name Ferrus would think was cool

[nevesmose]

Meteor, Trailing Light

Not a request - this one's all on me. Reading Dunmeshi and thinking about how Mithrun has enough vague similarities to Fulgrim that his story arc almost-but-not-quite scratches the itch for a sort of whumpy hurt/comfort style redeemed Fulgrim story. And then, as if by magic... (Title taken from the same poem McNeill used for The Reflection Crack'd because I'm a huge fucking nerd.)

Even now he remains the Phoenician, beloved by all and the star around which his warriors orbit.

Fulgrim found it strange to be dead.

And yet that was what had happened, as far as the galaxy at large knew. The traitor Fulgrim slain in single combat by his own best-loved brother Ferrus Manus. Simply one more dead heretic in a galaxy bursting at the seams with them.

The truth, as was so often the case, differed slightly. At the final moment Ferrus Manus had stayed his hand and settled for capturing Fulgrim instead.

Once he was under observation it hadn't taken the Iron Hands long to deduce the connection between him and the cursed Laer blade and, abhorrent as it was to their rational sensibilities, to begin a process of what a more spiritually-inclined observer might have called exorcism.

When their efficient disassembly of the body failed to root out the infection, they had moved on to his mind instead.

He was grateful that he remembered so little of it, except for the sensation of the perfect white silk of his hair falling away as it was shorn off and the high-pitched squeal of a chirurgical saw biting into his skull.

"He may not survive damage to the brain of this magnitude," the cold, artificial voice of a techpriest had announced.

"He's strong enough," came the reply. His brother's voice, organic but infinitely colder. "Burn it out of him."

"My lord Primarch, even if he lives the neurological effects are beyond our ability to determine. His recall and cognition may be permanently altered."

"Understood," Ferrus had growled. "Do it."

He had relearned how to walk, in the end. How to talk and read and write, to feed and clean and dress himself. The medicae had told him his recovery was vastly quicker and more complete than could be expected of any mortal, or even an Astartes.

His hair had grown back dishwater grey and the physical damage was mitigated as far as possible by whatever therapies and augmetics could be adapted to the body of a Primarch, but the gaps in his memories and mental capabilities still lurked around him like ghosts, eager to drag him down at any moment.

How many Astartes in a legion? How to tie the laces of a boot? Sometimes the shame and humiliation of not knowing, of having to need help with such things, made him weep. He had been the Phoenician once. The guiding star to an army of superhumans.

Ferrus had been a constant presence, sitting at his bedside for what felt like days at a time. They had spoken often of the past, over and over again, Ferrus telling him the stories of his own exploits to try to reconnect the burned-away neurons into something approaching a memory.

There had been a smithing competition between them, apparently. Three months at work beneath Mount Narodnya on Terra itself. Ferrus had brought him what he said was Fulgrim's own creation, the great warhammer Forgebreaker, and although Fulgrim had looked at it and appreciated the skill and effort of his past self it simply did not register with him.

He had apologised to Ferrus for not remembering and been sure that it was the first time he had ever seen the Primarch of the Iron Hands cry.

Ferrus often spoke with him about the war, too. The war was going badly. Fulgrim knew with an instinct that must have been imprinted on him at the moment of his creation that the presence of another Primarch on the battlefield, even one so irreparably damaged, could mean the difference between survival and annihilation.

So, like a distant comet being drawn back to its star, he would return to war. When his recovery was deemed to be as complete as it would ever be, he was presented with a suit of black Iron Hands power armour trimmed in dark purple, accompanied by a newly-forged replica of the lost Fireblade.

When he left his chambers Ferrus was waiting for him, clad in his own black warplate.

"One of us is going to have to change," Fulgrim said flatly.

Ferrus chuckled. "It's good to see you like this again, Fulgrim. Come with me. I have something to show you."

"Am I to be an Iron Hand now?" he asked as they walked together, gesturing to his armour.

"If you want. Nobody will care if my closest general happens to be taller than average or look different to the rest of my Legion. There are far worse things happening in the galaxy right now, brother."

Fulgrim slowed to a halt, prompting Ferrus to stop as well.

"Am I still your brother, Ferrus? Even now?"

Ferrus didn't say anything at first, instead favouring him with one of the monumental metal-handed shoulder pats he seemed to reserve for those closest to him.

"You'll always be my brother," he replied. "You're still the only one of the bastards I can stand."

"A truly great honour," Fulgrim smiled.

They moved out onto a raised dais at one end of a large ceremonial chamber liberally decorated with Iron Hands iconography, in the sense that a certain amount of Iron Hands iconography not strictly required for the room's structural integrity was present.

In front of them stood a contingent of black-armoured Iron Hands, a few companies in total, whose plate bore the same dark purple trim as Fulgrim's along with a variety of hoods and cloaks in the same colour.

Fulgrim knew that before, he would have been able to come up with some witty, cutting remark at a time like this. He had even watched old pict footage of himself doing it until the sight of the beautiful, shining Phoenician he'd once been had become too much to bear.

It was so hard for him to get words out now, or sometimes even just to put his thoughts in sufficient order. He settled for a quizzical look at Ferrus instead, who just raised his eyebrows in an expression that on any other face would have looked downright mischievous.

"Iron Phoenixes!" he called out, striding forward. "Remove your helmets!"

In one smooth, well-drilled motion the ranks of Astartes pulled back their hoods and took off their plain black helmets to reveal a sea of white hair and violet eyes, all fixed on Fulgrim.

He realised with a sharp pang of grief that he didn't recognise any individual faces among them, but the overall resemblance was undeniable.

Tears came unbidden to Fulgrim's remaining eye. His sons. Tired, scarred, and far, far too few in number, but nevertheless his sons.

"They followed me?" he asked.

"Of course they did," Ferrus said quietly. "You're the star they orbit around, brother. They would follow you anywhere."

He recalled, hazily, or perhaps just assumed, that in the past he would have remained above them and made some lengthy declamation, most likely about the perfection of the III Legion and its primarch.

It would be beyond laughable to do that now, and in any case he lacked the breath in his lungs and the fluent command of words for such a performance. The moment called for something else.

Slowly, carefully, Fulgrim descended from the dais to stand at the same level as his Astartes. They watched him intently. Even now, broken and diminished as they all were, they still looked instinctively to him with trust and, one could even say, faith.

The sensation was, of all things, humbling. He was sure he would never have thought of it that way before.

"Welcome home," Fulgrim said, holding out his arms to his sons. As if at some mutually-agreed signal the Astartes broke formation and surged towards him, eager to be close to their Primarch, to affirm his survival and their own despite everything.

After what felt like hours, Fulgrim was finally able to extricate himself from the throng of his sons and return to Ferrus, whose craggy features gave every appearance of satisfaction at the reunion he'd arranged.

"Thank you, Ferrus," he said. "Truly. But I have to ask - the Iron Phoenixes, really?"

Ferrus shrugged. "Well, I thought it was a good name. You're welcome to change it to something more artistic if you like."

Fulgrim looked at his sons contemplatively. The Iron Phoenixes, perhaps.

"Let me think about it," he said. "We might just be stuck with it."

[djemsostylist]

Djem's Legion Thoughts

About three years ago my brother joking suggested I read the Horus Heresy, knowing literally nothing about Warhammer. (Literally nothing. I just thought Space Marines were big dudes in armor and I had never heard of Primarchs and I still know nothing of 40k. Have no idea how the Heresy ends--I'm spoiler free babes.) Anyway, what follows are my feelings on each Legion at the following times:

As of midway through Fulgrim

At the end of First Heretic

At the start of the Master of Mankind

Halfway through the Siege

This is very long. I'm not sorry.

Dark Angels

idk I haven’t met them yet, but their name tells me they are either going to be amazing or fucking awful

Um I still dk

God I fucking love these stupid idiots. Like, they are stupid, for sure, but I dunno, I dig their bizarre sort of pseudosecrecy thing. Plus, aesthetically I’m all about weird monk orders. Also, nothing kills me quite like Farith Redloss having anxiety attacks over trying to figure out Lion.

Corswain showing up like the living embodiment of the dude with the pizza where the apartment is on fire is just so deeply on brand for these chucklefucks like, Lion is all “I’m deeply uncomfortable where Imperial Secundus is concerned so instead I’ll just go ahead and attack home planets because that will demoralize the traitors and then I’m Doing My Part” like fam, pretty much all the traitors sans Perturabo are actual literal demons rn and they all had zero qualms betraying their immediate brothers and also the emperor (and Perturabo already fucked over his own) why in the livid fuck would you think this is in any way helpful, but this is Classic Lion and I love him now on account of that one time when he hugged Roboute because he was proud of him and also because he calls all of his sons “Little Brother” bc he is afraid of being a dad and also because I too am deeply avoidant of issues I don’t want to deal with.

Emperor's Children

mostly wonderful, because they are fabulous and also extremely extra, but they have the most ginourmous fuckwad as a Lord Commander, BUT they have a very good boy as another one, so idk really. Plus the whole betrayal thing and the fucking lodges, but they are purple and fabulous, so, +1?

These are the saddest boys ever in the whole world, and they didn’t deserve what happened to them. I loved them all except for Eidolon and they didn’t deserve anything bad to happen to them ever bc they were precious and I loved them. Also Fabius because he was bugnuts and he hurt my boys.

Jesus, I’m so fucking over them all

Honestly I’m so tired

Iron Warriors

I totally confused them with the Iron Hands. Idk even, boring? But Perturabo (while he has a fucking terrible name) also hates Horus so +15

I still know nothing about them, but I think they are buttholes because of the whole Isstvan V thing. Dick move guys, dick move.

I literally can’t. Like, their entire shtick is besieging and being besieged, and then being pissy bc it is what they are good at???? Like, they are literally traitoring bc their dad got a hair up his ass bc he wasn’t a good independent thinker and didn’t think he was allowed to build castles or whatever? Idk they are exhausting except for the ones that aren’t

I still don’t really get them at all except like 99% of them who aren’t named Barabas Dantioch are asshats and are not independent thinkers who are literally still traitoring for reasons unknown except to stick it to the emperor like?? Get an actual culture??? Just literally stop???

White Scars

I dunno, haven’t met them, but since no one else talks about them, I’m gonna guess, boring?

I dunno but they are worried about them hooking up with the Rout so I guess they are cool?

Oh bless your tiny little souls. They are so sweet, and so, so dumb. But sweet.

They are very, very good boys. They don’t have a ton of range per say but their simplicity is sort of the point I think. They are what space marines are supposed to be, and I love them for that

Space Wolves

ehm, oh, I’m sorry, The Rout. Whateverthefuck, they’re boring, over-the-top fuckheads who are giant fucking hypocrites who suck and probably don’t ever shower. Honestly, they rival the Emperor’s Children in extraness, and not in the loveable way. Fucking awful, 0/10.

Okay, honestly, not as awful as some. I mean, hella extra and I hate what they did at Prospero, but in a world full of awful things, we gotta pick and choose.

They are just so, so...Space Wolfy. Bless them they try, and some of them legit crack me up. I’m just not about their aesthetic, you know?

Much like the other fuckups amongst the Loyalists, they are a blunt instrument used for a specific purpose and do better with like...direct instruction. I’m saying they are not the kind to do well with metaphor and also a lack of like, a dad. They need TE:BBA is what I’m saying.

Imperial Fists

Literally only met them briefly, but they seem a good sort. I like their Primarch? -3 tho cause damn that color scheme.

Still good boys.

Omg I love you all, you precious little bbs. They are just so calm and stoic and honestly even though yellow is a hideous color they are literally like Templars and that is fantastic?????

Listen, the amount of love that I have in my heart for these precious, perfect boys is rivaled only by my love for Rogal Dorn, who might possibly be, and I don’t wanna sound dramatic here, be the love of my life but anyway.

Night Lords

idk but their name sounds sick.

Right, these guys are also dicks. I hate them on principle.

Every time I think of them all I can think of is that one video of the goths dancing under the bridge. They are so. Fucking. Extra. Christ alive, get a hobby that isn’t fucking skinning people.

Yeah idk they still mostly suck and to be perfectly honest I’m still not entirely sure what their point was, even pre-heresy? Like what role did psychopaths play in TE:BBA’s plan for a glorious human empire, someone explain

Blood Angels

I dunno cause I’ve only ever met their First Captain (who was consorting with fuckheads) but Sanguinius is literally Top Tier Fabulous, like Prince Extra, so I hope they don’t let me down

I’m still holding out hope. Don’t let me down boys.

OH. MY. GOD. Honestly, kill me, I love them so, so, so, so, so much, it’s a lot. And I suspect something terrible will happen with them but I don’t care because they are perfect. All of them. Wonderful, perfect, lovely, caring boys who love their dad and I love them. Sweet, loving, precious little bbs who occasionally suffer from tragic vampiric tendencies but I don’t love them any less. They better stay perfect forever. If I could, I would be like Sangy and just take them all everywhere with me so that they could always be safe <3 On a less gushy note, I think one of the most important aspects of the Blood Angels (and of their primarch) is that while they acknowledge their differences from unmodified humans, they also love humanity, deeply. They see them as worth fighting for and protecting, and acknowledge that their abilities allow them to create a universe that is safe for the common man to live in. There is a sort of profound love and tenderness that they have for humanity, and I think it really does make a difference in their legion. (That scene is Master of Mankind with the Blood Angel and the Custodian really highlights what I’m saying here.)

Listen, this may sound dramatic, and I don’t wanna like, go over the top, but I would literally die for them, which would seem counterproductive since that is what they do for humanity but the amount of love of I have for this entire legion and one Angel is too big to contain in my heart okay

Iron Hands

I don’t know them well yet, but they seem like good boys overall. I’m sure one of them is bound to be a crazy fucker tho.

They are good boys. I don’t know them very well, but my favorite moment is when Ferrus had to thank Lorgar for his help so he made him a crozius and then threw it at him because he didn’t want to have to talk awkwardly.

Poor sad bbs

No, but really, poor sad bbs

World Eaters

literally terrible people, but I guess when your Dad is bugnuts….

Definitely should have been put down. As in to death. They should have been killed. Probably.

Still fucking crazy. But I love Kharn, and honestly Lotara (who I know isn’t technically a World Eater but close enough.)

No but they probably should have all been just euthanized? I mean not Kharn bc I love him but also like--they are not viable. Long term? Tbh still not entirely sure what TE:BBA’s plan was here with them and Angron (I’m gonna assume something along the lines of ignore it and hope it goes away, since that is mostly his plan for everything)

Ultramarines

probably enormous squares, but tbh in a galaxy with World Eaters and the Rout, we could do with some squares.

Honestly, I have no issues with them. They do their duty, they are loyal. I hope to love them though. They actually believe in colors.

HOLY FUCK DO I LOVE THEM. ALL 200,000 OF THEM. (Which is probably what Roboute thinks tbh.) Like, I literally haven’t met a single one that I don’t adore and love with my whole soul and entire being. They are precious, soft, beautiful bbs who I adore with my whole heart. And who will make great leaders of the world someday I’m so proud. On a less gushy note, much like the Blood Angels, the Ultramarines really have a sort of profound feeling of protection and duty towards humans. They may not always like dealing with them, but Roboute is of the firm belief that they must understand what they are truly fighting for. Saving humanity is not enough, you have to fight for the humans who live there. (See, the one short story where they find a baby and I died.)

No but what you don’t quite get is that I literally love them. Every single individual solitary one of them, and while some may say “But Djem such a thing is impossible you haven’t met every Ultramarine” I need you to understand that the depth of my love for them and their Primarch is such that I know, in my bones, that I don’t need to meet them all to love them okay bc I already do.

Death Guard

Okay, so honestly I wanted to hate them (because BETRAYAL) but tbh its only the First and Second Captains who suck a lot and idk really the rest are sort of tragically precious??

Seriously, what is Mortarion’s issue?

No, seriously, what the fuck is their problem? Get the fuck over it.

Okay, I do feel bad. For Mortarian. Of all the traitors, him I understand the most. However, that being said, while I can understand his issues, I feel like giving yourself over to demons, turning into actual demons, and also turning on and killing your brothers who refused to become said demons makes you terrible awful people who really need to like, die.

Thousand Sons

okay, I fucking love these lame Warrior Monk Priest Wizards who live in a literal glass city with restaurants and teach random people Tai Chi in the park or whatever. Overall 10/10

I am v. worried that they are going to do something dumb like join the rebellion in order to affect change from the inside and then like, adopt demons or something. Pls don’t be dumb boys.

I don’t even fucking--look, I’m just tired okay?

What the fuck Azhek. No seriously, ⅞ is good enough? What the fuck is wrong with you?

Sons of Horus? Luna Wolves? who the fuck knows

my precious sons. You did not deserve what was done to you. This is why we don’t do frats. I believed in you and you failed me. D:

I love my precious sons. The Sons of Horus however, can go die.

I just--why are you the way you are?

I think the best thing about these absolute morons is that half the legion isn’t even demon fuckers, they just woke up one day and Horus told them to kill their brothers and they went “sure okay” and then just did. They are so fucking pretentious and stupid, fucking speartip, honestly die. I take it back. You all deserved exactly what you got, you dumb fucks.

Word Bearers

look, I haven’t met the rest of these dudes yet, but Erebus is a terrible fucking ambassador. -60/10 for not controlling their boy

HOLY LORD. I cannot--there are not actually words to describe how much I loathe these ignorant dumbasses. Like, seriously. Honestly, the ones who were purged were probably lucky, because the rest of them fucking suck.

God, eat a fucking landmine. Except, that would probably turn them on or something. Fucking assholes.

Just--imagine being such a fuckup that even when you were the first to the “become a demon, save the world” thing you still somehow ended up last. I hope the Ultramarines put down every. Single. One.

Salamanders

idk but this name is dumb. Salamanders are cute and slimy, and while Astartes are fucking adorable, they are not slimy. -1 for the dumb name

They are loyal, which is cool, and they seem like chill bros.

I just, like, they are sweet, but good lord are they simple.

I’m not sure? What they are doing? With their lives? Guys, idk if anyone told you but like, um. There is a war. And I get they’ve had it rough but also the loyalists could use their hope so maybe, idk. Do something? I mean I know there are like, 50 of you left and also you think your dad is dad and I feel you but like-

Raven Guard

idk but I like Ravens and Black, plus their Primarch’s name is Corvus? 11/10 they better not suck.

OMG I love Corvus?? Flies with a giant jetpack and tried to gut Lorgar? Yeah, he’s wonderful. Plus, their Captain seemed cool before he was fucking murdered.

I love them all, bless. They are sweet and simple and kind of stupid, but they make me feel things in my heart, so like, idk, stay precious.

Look, I cried over Branne fucking Nev, I don’t wanna talk about it rn

Alpha Legion

seriously? Lame.

Fuck these guys. What is their deal?

I can’t even really. I really, truly can’t. Nothing has ever satisfied me the way I was satisfied when Alpharius literally lost his head. God, that was beautiful.

Or Omegon? It was actually Omegon? I don’t even know anymore man

[nemossubmarine]

Warhammer 40k: Wrath & Glory RP #34

The party is planning on leaving to Llosie to meet up with Chazaqiel, but before they can do so, there’s a few things they have to do. First Larry asks if Iris is willing to accompany Ada to the paradise world. She is quite happy to, and Jaycie(?) picks them both up. Ferrus asks if Izarak should contact Roberto about Ada being alive, which Izarak agrees to do (not explaining entirely what’s going on, but letting him know that the efforts to get Ada back continue).

Before the party can head for Llose, they also need to decide what to do with the T’au ship, as they can’t take it into Warp. Larry brings this up with La’awali and Tirak, who eventually agree that it best that it is destroyed, as the chance of it ending up into human hands is too great. They begin grabbi ng personal stuff from the ship, and while they do, Larry and Alice sneak the Inquisition symbol on board (Ferrus distracts Izarak and Coco and the rest of the crew by making sure everyone is ready for Warp travel), and weld it into their gun flap, so it can be displayed if need be.

Then it’s warp travel time, Ferrus lets Larry and Coco, who will be acting as co-pilot, know that the conditions are good and the travel should be easy. It would take some 30-ish hours. For the most part the Warp travel goes fine. There is some spooky ghost ships that they don’t manage to entirely avoid, and Alice gets quite a frightening experience when a ghost grabs onto her. But other than that, all goes well.

Upon reaching Llosie, they are contacted by someone checking out incoming ships. Larry lies and says that they’re from the Mechanicus-Space Wolves joint operation, which the person seems to buy wholesale. She lets him know that she’ll let the Wolves know they’ve arrived.

They land the ship into a quaint little town. It appears that the planet is quite old-fashioned, mostly focused on food and lumber production. There’s not much technology about, but the party can spy a castle rising above a nearby forest. There’s also a Space Wolves’ ship on the landing area. Pretty soon they are approached by a familiar-looking man, the Martian sergeant Vivek, although he is sporting considerably more furs and other Wolves-adjacent decorations than the last time they met.

He greets them warmly, and the party goes with him to a tavern for a talk. Vivek is here with Dark Angels and Space Wolves looking for the buyer of the datadisk. The party tells to him that they suspect of a drukhari wanting to get her hands on it. This worries Vivek, as they had found no signs of xenos influence about this. He sort of explains what’s in the data disk, mentioning an ancient Martian civil war, where some bad Mechanicus created something called a scrap code that could be used to control Mechanicus, a chaos-adjacent thing (not that anyone but Izarak really knows what Chaos even is). Vivek also complains about the Dark Angels in his party acting kind of suspicious. Larry says he thinks he knows the reason, that being the visage of Lion’el Johnson inside the datadisk, which apparently Vivek is familiar with. The party tells Vivek they’re going to meet a person that may be able to help them with the Countess, but they don’t really mention who it is.

Larry and Vivek go outside for a smoke. Vivek mentions that he hadn’t put together who’s kid Larry was before. He mentions having met his mother once, at a party (Larry was being babysat by Sable Swords at the time). Apparently Vivek thought she was a rather sad person and mentions hoping she was feeling better now. Larry agrees, though mentions not having seen his mother in a while. Vivek explains to Larry that Uffe has located his sister, and that she is stationed not far from here. To arrange a meeting, Larry should talk with Uffe first. Larry says he’ll do just that when he has the time. He wonders how exactly is Vivek connected with the Space Wolves, since he thought he worked with Mars, but the whole get-up is a bit (and not even a bit) wolf-y. Vivek says that while he indeed is here working for Mars, he is first and foremost a Mechanicus assistant to the Wolves. He’s hoping that once he’s done here he can go back to Fenris. Larry asks how he likes Fenris. Vivek says he doesn’t really have any other place to go. Nevertheless, he likes Fenris a lot and considers it his home. Larry mentions it being super cold when he visited, making it hard for him to imagine anyone liking Fenris, and Vivek says he should visit during summer next time.

Coco and Larry decide to go take a nap, having not slept much during warp travel. Meanwhile, Izarak and Alice go visit the local leader, Countess Elodia, who turns out to be a young, aristocratic woman, which makes Alice get a bit flustered. They introduce themselves as being part of the Space Wolves retinue. They express interest in the castle, which Countess Elodia explains is haunted. No one has lived there for years. She would be quite thankful if Izarak, as a priest, would check it out. Alice, putting on a brave face, says she isn’t afraid of no ghosts. Countess Elodia also tells that there are strange beasts in the forest, and some lumberjacks have gone missing, so any assistance on that front is appreciated. Alice flexes and says the Countess need not worry, she’ll have it under control. Countess Elodia seems pleased by this. She also lends them an ox-cart dragged by an ox named Ned.

With napping done, the party grabs Michael and Ferrus and heads off into the forest. There are strange sounds all around, and Coco hears some wolves howling (she’s quite certain it is their old pal Rodorn doing the howling). As they approach the castle, they come across some ruins, where they find what they presume to be the missing lumberjacks, impaled on sticks and quite heavily ripped apart.

Izarak goes to investigate and gets a facefull of a creature that seems to be made out of teeth and claws and flesh. A brief battle ensues where Izarak and Larry take some damage, Ferrus takes a lot of damage. Alice punches one of the creatures down very cool and fancy.

After the battle, they decide to send Ferrus back with Michael as its clear that Ferrus is not doing great. As soon as Michael gets Ferrus into caring hands, he should come back to pick them up. With that done, the party approaches the castle. They knock on the door, and soon they hear approaching footsteps, and come face to face with Chazaqiel, in black power armor and white robes, his countenance made quite spooky by some blue glow and bells hanging from his belt. He invites them inside. The party comments on his nice castle, to which Chazaqiel says that it is not his, he just finds it easy to visit. There is some movement in the castle, which Chazaqiel explains to be ghosts, sort of, apparently something bad happened in the castle some time ago, hence the haunting.

Well, now that they get to see Chazaqiel, they don’t exactly find him a comforting presence, especially since he refuses to give much information about himself. Alice calls him out, saying that he looks an awful lot like a Dark Angel. Chazaqiel counters that the Dark Angels the party knows would not call him a brother. He warns about telling the Dark Angels about himself, as it would cause deep trouble. He also says his presence should not be talked about to the Wolves, as they are deeply mistrustful of “sourcerers”. Chazaqiel eventually cops out to being from a planet (where Dark Angels were originally from, which has also been destroyed for thousands of years). Chazaqiel is clearly getting frustrated that this isn’t enough. The party asks to see his face, so he takes off his helmet. Beneath is a quite regular (for an Astartes at least) looking face, though scarred and blind in one eye. The party eventually asks if they hand over the data disk to Chazaqiel, would he kill the Countess and free Ada and Coco’s family. He says yes, and by all accounts he seems to be telling the truth. The party agrees to meet him on Jonah’s World so they can hand over the datadisk.

With that they leave. They walk some time before the ox cart comes by to pick them up. Riding on top of it is Fafnik the Space Wolf.

[random-thought-depository]

I think @adepta-astarte/Purplekitte’s Primarch gender-swap ideas are cool, but I have a different interpretation of what Mara would be like.

I see a lot of autism coding and chronic pain/invisible disability coding in Mortarion. I think this is why I’ve always found him one of the more compelling Primarchs: I think I’m autistic or something and I have persistent low-level physical pain and a self-sacrificing streak, so I find it easy to see him as someone whose outer and inner struggles remind me of my own; he reminds me of the part of myself that once tried to tough out a serious toe infection because I didn’t want my mother to have to pay for my treatment.

I see Mara as very similar to Mortarion, and as very masculine/butch/GNC in ways that are totally tied into her brain-weirdness. She doesn’t object to wearing feminine clothing in principle, but most feminine clothing and associated things (long hair, make-up, jewelry) irritates her sensory sensitivities. She’s very strong and tough and fast, but she’s clumsy with small delicate objects and small finicky movements, so she’s a lot better at the kind of manual labor an agricultural society codes male, and this influenced her early experience of gender a lot. Femininity emphasizes a lot of the human things that are most difficult for her, like being pretty and sociable and good at emotion work. I see Mara experiencing her alienation from femininity as an extension of her alienation from humanity in general.

I see Mara’s early childhood as a lot more gender-neutral than Purplekitte does. I always saw Mortarion’s introversion in terms of ... he was raised by beings that were not human, that did not teach him to be human, he had to learn to be human later, and having learned it so late it never became easy for him. So I see the Barbaran overlords as inhuman beings, who wouldn’t share human things like gender roles, and who’d treat Mara and Mortarion about the same way.

I started writing a fanfic based on these thoughts a while ago, but it probably won’t be ready for posting before next year because I want to finish some other writing projects first. Also, I think I should read more Horus Heresy novels before I finish the fic, I’m mostly going by fandom osmosis at this point. Some other Mara ideas from my unfinished fanfic (a lot of these are just my Mortarion headcanons):

I actually did name her Mara, thanks @adepta-astarte for giving me permission to do that, it was better than any name I could think of.

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In my mind’s eye Mara looks a lot like @newvagabond but really big (she’s one of the bigger Primarchs, so she’d be bigger than this guy), with the body type of Julie Bell, a kinda sea-creature grey-white complexion, a stronger chin and gold eyes, and a lot of scars (I asked New and she said it was OK to mention this). I think there’s a couple of reasons my brain made that connection, and the spoonie thing is one of them.

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Mara was badly abused as a child, especially during the early years when the tyrant saw her as a biological curiosity instead of a potentially valuable future minion. Some of the things that were done to her permanently physically damaged her (her inhumanly white appearance is a manifestation of that).

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Mara has some sensorimotor issues:

- She has unpleasant sensory sensitivities. Everything feels jagged. Sensations scratch, bite, itch, burn, poke, tickle-scratch, are too much. Many things feel bad and few things feel good. Constant low-level pain is the background noise of her life

- She’s fast and graceful by human or even Space Marine standards, but every movement feels like it takes more effort than it should, as if her brain has to shout at her body, as if her limbs are moving through mud, and it’s frustrating. She’s also clumsy with small delicate objects and small finicky movements.

She treats these problems as embarrassing secrets and resists making any concessions to self-care.

She also has the autistic restricted food preference thing, but will eat almost anything anyway; she had to do that as a matter of survival during childhood and she’s exactly the kind of person who’d rather low-key torture herself than ask for accommodation.

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Mara ran away from the tyrant around 8-10 years old or whatever the Primarch years equivalent is, and was adopted by a human community shortly thereafter. I think that scenario evokes the feel of autistic/ND alienation better than her having run away as an adult.

She had an adoptive mother-figure: an old widow. This woman had an adult non-verbal autistic son who lived with her, and raising such a child gave her experience that was useful in dealing with Mara (knowing how to touch her in a way that didn’t irritate her sensory sensitivities, recognizing when she was feeling overloaded, etc.).

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Mara is mostly asexual, but she has proto-sexual crushes and proto-sexual sensual attraction. The analogy she thinks of for her own sexuality is a pot that sometimes comes to the verge of boiling but never boils, or a plant that never blooms because the soil it’s in is too stony and sour. She could probably enjoy sex, but she feels no strong desire for it. She’s relieved at being asexual, because she thinks her being celibate makes things simpler for herself and everyone else. She has never had a romantic relationship, and she has never had sex.

The closest thing she’s had to a lover was a girl a few years older than her in her adoptive village, who was her one childhood friend. She and this girl did a proto-sexual “take off our clothes and study each other’s bodies because we’re curious” thing as young teenagers. Later on this girl started training to be a singer/oral storyteller, and Mara had a strong sensual attraction to her voice (in my mind’s ear this girl’s singing sounds like this). This girl picked up that Mara was attracted to her and offered to have sex with her, but Mara wasn’t comfortable with that idea so nothing happened. They might have become lovers eventually but this girl died young from disease.

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Mara started her rebellion against the overlords when she was a young teenager. When they’d been grooming her to be a minion the tyrant taught her a lot of stuff about weapons, and she taught the Barbaran peasants how to make cross-bows, guns, cannons, greek-fire-like-stuff, bombs etc.. She has a techie-nerdy side, but it often isn’t appreciated.

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Relationships with other Primarchs (note, I haven’t figured out which other ones I’d gender-swap in this AU):

- Horus is one of the very few living close friends/intimates she has. He’s likely one of the very few people she’s told about her sensorimotor issues. They have a close older-brother/little-sister type relationship.

- She does not get along well with Fulgrim and Ferrus Manus. Given their schtick they strike me as likely to not get along well with a sibling they see as broken or defective. They don’t know the details of her condition, but they have eyes and they’re bright, they see and judge, and she can see them seeing and judging (and hear the occasional snide comment). She has some sensual attraction to how pretty and graceful and perfect Fulgrim is, which makes her resent him more, as she finds being attracted to him humiliating.

- She doesn’t get along with Magnus for the same reason Mortarion doesn’t: the Barbaran overlords were sorcerers, sorcery has bad associations for her, and she knows enough about it to have some idea how dangerous it is.

- Her default opinion of Leman Russ is “charismatic popular guy who finds all the stuff I struggle with easy,” and envy based on that. Going by some interpretations, may be surprised how relatable some of his experiences are to her if they have the right conversation.

- She probably dislikes Purplekitte’s interpretation of gender-swapped Russ for the same reason she dislikes Magnus: she doesn’t like sorcerers. Though I have an extremely vague notion of an enemies-to-friends fic for those two based on finding the mental image of Ljufa trying to teach Mara her weaving-sorcery thing interesting (Mara did textile work as a child but did not like it, especially sowing - her fingers were clumsy and she kept stabbing herself with the needle).

- I think she might have a very interesting relationship with Lorgar. Lorgar is another Primarch I easily read as possibly autistic, though in a way that’s only apparent if you’ve noticed a particular thinking style that I think may be autism-associated but that doesn’t fit common autistic stereotypes. Mara and Lorgar seem to me like kind of symmetrical opposites in terms of their relationships to brain-weirdness, embodiment, Primarchness, and gender (the symmetry isn’t perfect, but then gender is asymmetrical; gender-nonconformity tends to be a lot less accepted in men). I’m not saying I ship these two, but I’m not not saying it.

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I should do a Primarch autistic headcanons post sometime.