#oc: Zariel

[c-u-c-koo-4-40k]

12 Angry Space Marines or Lullaby's No Good Very Bad Only a Little Good Day - Part 1

First! A big thanks to @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for helping write this beast of a piece. And to @sleepyfan-blog, @kit-williams and @egrets-not-regrets for use of their various characters.

Previous Chapter Here!

Next Chapter Under Construction Heeeere!

First in the entire series Here

Warning: Talks of violence, a very sore throat, threat of torture near mental breakdown and some mildly sexual talk.

Tags! I Hope you all enjoy!: @kit-williams @sleepyfan-blog @egrets-not-regrets @felinisnoctis @bispecsual

@passionofthesith @beckyninja @bleedingichorhearts @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@jaghatai-khock @virozero @angronsjewelbeetle

Summary:

Lullaby awakens alone, and injured. After everything that has happened the thing they want the least is to be alone. But try as they might they can't seem to get a message through to their loved ones. Meanwhile, the Scouts and the veteran Apothecaries get ready to take a vote on the fate of Stormbreaker, who they now must consider allowing to live if his survival truly is intertwined with Lullaby's.

You feel yourself drifting, swirling in patterns of darkness then back to mild lucidity only to be pulled under again. The same cycle repeats. Voices loud and quiet- demanding- requesting, questioning.

“SHUT UP!” “Fucking LOW BRED WITCH WHORE GOTHIC CURSING GOTHIC cursing-””Who is this Really!?” “The first psycher of the Baseline populace.” … “Their vitals are normal…at they need now is rest…” “I will take them to bed..”

There was the feeling of being swaddled in dark, familiar smelling blankets. The feeling of cool lips pressing to your cheeks and mouth. “I will return soon my darling…”

“..no….please, st…ay…” You tried to reach out but your fingers barely moved. You weren't even sure your throat was making words. You were so tired…so Tired…So Tired…

Khopesh cooed, brushing his hand softly against your cheek as you fight the force pulling you down. He thinks you look cute, while you feel about to cry. 

“Shhhhh, rest now,” He purrs, bringing his face down so he can nuzzle you, he presses another kiss to your lips. You feel momentarily soothed by the purrs rumbling in his chest as it presses to yours. 

“..s..t..ay…” Your lips move a little at least, but Khopesh seems to think you're just trying to kiss him back.

“When I return…I will give you my Full Attention.” He chuckles, allowing himself to indulge for a moment; he presses his tongue softly past your lips. Another kiss, just a small but intimate taste, he tells himself, just to tide him over until his lingering business with the Grey Knight is decided. 

You don't mind the kiss, but you mind what it means as he pulls away. But it's too late, you're already sinking ... 

sinking…

sinking…

A feeling like humming electricity, an overcharge, Grasping so hard onto Jophiel…followed by a scream so sharp it burned like-

M O L T E N  G O L D 

“HUAh! -ACK COUGH cOuGH!” You bolted upright gasping, hacking and coughing as your throat burned. Your eyes could barely parse the darkness but, you knew the bed your were sitting (coughing hacking dying??) At least…

Water, fucking hell I need water!

The typical water bottle you kept at the bedside was pretty much empty. You hobbled down from the bed, feeling along the way until your hand wrapped around a familiar handle. 

You pulled open the door to the Astarte grade mini fridge, grabbed a hydration ration and chugged it. The too cold liquid hurt as it touched your inflamed throat but the relief to your thirst powered you through it. 

Finally the ration was half empty and you pulled off, sucking in air which further irritated your pipes. Lord above what the Hell had you Done to yourself?? Your throat hurts- and the cold makes it harder to drink and you cough, which hurts.

Then the memories caught up with you properly. Ah right. A Bastard in Silver, a battle, your frie-

HOLY SHIT WHAT HAPPENED TO EVERYONE?!

They were all standing at the end, surely they're fine surely, Please Please PLEASE BE OKAY DON'T BE HURT DONT BE DEAD GO-

BREATHE DAMMIT!

You slapped yourself trying to get your mind in order. You glanced around the room that now at least had some Minor illumination from the fridge light. And a dizzying combo of relief and excitement runs through you as you spot your bag hanging where you normally put it when visiting. 

You're glad you can leave the fridge door propped as you scramble over to your bag and dig through it. There are things that you need to make sure you still have your mind going through the list as you grab each item.

Keys, Wallet (not your goal but you're glad it's there), Charger, Hairbrus- PHONE!

Oh thank the lord above! You think, as you frantically open it. 

Missed calls and texts from your parents…Shit. 

Okay okay Breathe, B R E A T H E, Your fingers tremble as you open the messages. 

‘Hey Lullybird, just checking in. When are you going to be home?’ 

45 minutes after the first message. 

‘Lully can you answer the phone??’

‘Bear, please pick up.’

15 minutes after that.

‘I'm starting to get worried! If you don't pick up your phone I'm going to drive to come find you!’

‘Your mother means it Bear, please answer.’

‘LULLY!’

5 Minutes Later 

‘Hey Hun! Khopesh texted to let us know you had too much fun at the picnic yesterday and passed out. So that's why you weren't answering your phone.’

Oh thank God, your Mom and Dad aren't making a panicked rush to the base. And they don't know about your near death experience. So that's two problems off your shoulders at least. 

And if Khopesh could text them that means he's safe. You feel even more relief flooding your system and uncoiling the Awful tension you'd been feeling. 

At least partly, you still didn't know the fate of the Primaris Marines. 

‘Next time please text Before you fall asleep after having too much fun!’ 

‘Yeah, just because you're Bear doesn't mean you get to hibernate for 6 months and not answer your phone.’

You smiled and rolled your eyes. You decided to type a quick response. 

‘Sorry to worry ya'll, I promise next time I'll text you Before I party myself into passing out. You text. ‘I'm okay, the partying hard also left me pretty tired even now, so I'm gonna chill at the base for a while longer. I should be home later today. I also want to check up on the new friends I made yesterday.’

A response was sent quickly from your mother. 

‘Turkey Butt…but I'm glad you're okay. See you later.’

‘Love you Bear Bear, see you later.’

You typed back. ‘Love you Both! See you soon.’

Okay…now to the main issue. You wanted to find the Primaris Marines. Sure if any were badly injured they'd be getting care from Anrir and Hura. Cedric was a fantastic apothecary in his own right but…

Gurgle…

Okay, one of the main issues, even if the Primaris were fine you Wanted to see them. Maybe it was a disconnect in your brain but sometimes you felt the need to see things to be certain of them. 

Like clicking the door lock of your car three times instead of one. Or double checking the stove was off. 

G U R G L e….

Seems your stomach was doing its own double checking; so you'd need to see to that too. You rub your stomach a little, sheepish with how loudly your stomach complained.

Khopesh should have some non-perishable snacks around. He always kept a supply. A memory of your beloved menace floats into your mind.

‘Just incase there's a shortage. I have lived through them before by the skin of my teeth when I was small. I got thin enough to see my ribs, luckily there was always at least a few rats and bugs running around…and a few corpses here and there. They didn't taste very good but Eh, more reason to be prepared!’

Hearing him say this so cheerfully and matter of fact practically broke your heart. It was part of the reason you wanted to make sure your cake was perfect. You want to make sure that he doesn’t have to worry about starvation.

He deserved the best you could give after that kind of life.  

And that Silver Bastard  R U I N E D it!

You feel your skin prickle with rage, a familiar rumbling grows in your ears as your muscles tense and your jaw twitches. 

Bz-zt Zt!

You're startled from your seething when the fridge light flickers violently with a sharp electric sound. Then it returns to normal as if nothing happened.

That…was weird… A bizarre thought comes to your mind, especially given what happened yesterday. Did…you do that?

If your powers could pour out of you as a scream, or travel through Jophiel like a ground rod, who's to say they can't affect electronics? It's all energy at the end of the day, particles traveling on waves or through conduits, and those waves being able to enhance or weaken each other….

Bringing up these topics to Anrir is third on your list, you decide. Food, Check on the Primaris boys, tell Anrir about science wizard shit. Karlsor did say that sometimes imagination, or lack thereof could be a limiter on psyker abilities.

You're still dressed in your clothes from yesterday, save your shoes but those are easy to locate. You sling your bag on your back, finish the hydration ration, and open the cupboard beside the fridge where the snacks are kept-

There are no snacks….What!?

You feel around in the darkness, thinking perhaps they're just pushed back only for your hand to brush against something papery. 

You pick up the slip of paper, and read it by the light of the fridge, and your half charged phone. 

This is what you get when you take things that don't belong to you Fuckface! Stop stealing my fucking sunglasses, and you can have your food back. 

Sincerely, Karlsor 

P.S. Fuck You 

Followed by a crass doodle of Karlsor sticking his tongue out and flipping the bird. You facepalmed with a groan.

Dammit Karlsor, Of all the times to pull a dumb shit Prank!

Oh well you wanted to leave this room anyway, guess you're doing it on an empty stoma- 

The door handle wiggles a bit, but doesn't turn. You jostle it again hoping it was a fluke…but the movement (or lack thereof) stays the same. 

You must be fucking Joking!? A frustrated wordless shriek/growl builds up in your injured throat, as you fruitlessly shake the handle of the electronic door lock. 

Okay new plan. You whip out your phone, and start texting. 

But as you try to send your messages of ‘Why am I locked in here?’ And ‘The fuck is this??’ with a picture of the food note, followed by ‘Hey Claude, Khopesh locked me in his room can you help me get out?’, And finally ‘Your Gremlins have done a fucking mischief please help!’ To Khopesh, Karlsor, Claude and Anrir respectively…you feel a bit of that prior anxiety creeping back in. 

None of the messages send properly. You try resending, deleting and rewriting, closing the message app and trying again, restarting your phone even! But every time the messages seem to hit a brick wall. 

What the Hell!? Your parents miles away from the base could get your messages, but four people Inside the base couldn't!?

Something wasn't right. 

You turn back to the door. 

You don't know what is happening, but you can't stay here. But how are you going to open the door?

Your mind drifts back to the moment with the light in the fridge…maybe? You kneel so you're eye level with the lock. You feel along it with your fingertips. Perhaps… you could try to do something?

You can't see things the way you did yesterday, but as you pull on your power, you notice the faintest…shimmer slide across the lock. As if your mycelium was invisible except for that nearly imperceptible visual feedback. 

And based on what happened yesterday it was pretty much confirmed that only You and others using warp sight could actually see them, even when boosted to near maximum power. You had heard that sometimes pushing past your limits- or near enough can help with a break through, but that doing such things could be dangerous if not properly watched over and the person cared for during and after it happening.

You remember the Silver Space Marine's murderous rage. How it'd felt not just to See the intention on his face, but actually Feel how he wanted to destroy you. The glare you could feel through the blue visor had been chilling.

The anger…the Malice, you stopped yourself, feeling nausea bubble in your empty gut, you needed to focus on the task at hand. 

You aren't certain how much to push, but you knew how to give a zap so… You remember what Karlsor said about Visualizing what you want your roots to do. Feel them reaching out- extending along a path.

Bzzt-ZAP! The lock clicks, and you swiftly turn the handle, and step out into the hallway. 

The Night lord Hallway. The hallways of the base designed for Night Lords, likely by Night Lords, even if they might not have built it…perfect. The darkness and the twisted architecture here hadn't frightened you for a while, but then again…you'd always come here with Khopesh. 

But other Night lords had human companions! You have an uneasy, sinking feeling in your stomach. You shake your head a little bit. Surely you'd be fine just…just follow what Claude said, when you'd asked about the faint green lines that trailed along the floors of these areas. 

‘Those are for navigation, see how they have arrow shapes cut into them. Follow those, and you can get back to the communal base areas.’ Claude helpfully pointed out- showing you the navigation lines. ‘The green was chosen as it could be seen- even by baselines in the more dimly lit areas of the base- without being considered ‘garish’... Also a word of advice? Do. Not. Run. In this area of the base.’

Follow the green lines and arrows. Okay, you can do this. You Can Do This. 

You take your first steps and wince at the sound of your own shoes as they pad across the floor into the dark. Shifting your bag, and holding it tighter to yourself. 

You'll be fine. You'll be fine. You chant to yourself.

You also firmly (try to) ignore the feeling that you were being watched. You don’t see anyone or hear anyone- but you have experience. You will see or hear your watchers precisely when they want to be seen or heard, and not a moment more.

…

Meanwhile in a meeting room on the upper floors of the Base, Anrir and Hura had gathered their Scoutlings for a meeting. Some of them are standing, others are sitting. Once they are all seated the oldest of the gathered marines speaks up.

“I suppose you would all like an answer as to why I've asked you all to come here?” Anrir posits, folding his hands together as he sits at the table. The other seats are occupied by Hura, Cedric, Ramiel, Nanael, Olly (and his rock), Claude, Jophiel, Kerubiel, Thressl, Karlsor, and Khopesh.

“Give us some credit, old man -Oof!” Kerubiel mutters snidely only to be elbowed by Thressl.

Thressl shakes his head when Kerubiel shot him a glare, snark and sass at this point in time would be a dumb idea. The Dark Angel smacks him back, but doesn’t speak for the moment. Things were tense- and they just found out a big secret. Who knows what Anrir or Hura might do to them with knowledge of something like this.

“We can make an educated Guess, it's to do with the Grey Knight correct?” Cedric answers to which both Anrir and Hura nod. 

“Indeed, we will need to decide what his fate shall be for his ahem … transgressions.” Hura explains. 

“There are a number of factors to consider, namely the benefits and consequences of either keeping him alive, or…”

“Killing him, Slowly…” Khopesh says with a grin that is equal parts gleeful anticipation and frustrated Rage. His claw-like nails were on their way to digging trenches into the table.

“Khopesh do not damage the base's property.” Anrir commands sternly. “Here, dig into this, not the table or your skin.” Anrir tosses an astarte grade stress toy to his…exuberant son who catches it easily, and begins squeezing and digging his claws into it as he'd been doing with the table. 

But his focus doesn’t waiver as he addresses his father. “I care not for the bureaucracy of keeping him alive, or his benefit as a psycher. He has committed an unforgivable act. Incurred an unpayable debt for what he did to our Claude, our Scouts and my Lullaby! Allow me to extract his Meager value from his dying screams in retribution! I will even keep his body usable for you.” He promises, switching to Nostraman so the others wouldn't understand that part. “Please father, allow me this. I crave-No! I Must make him Beg for the mercy of the grave-!”

Claude has been learning Nostraman, and caught his words, he keeps his face neutral- at least Khopesh remembers that waste not, want not includes making sure that organs and other useful pieces can still be harvested, if the Silver Bastard is killed.

Anrir holds up one ancient yet unmarred hand to stop his son from continuing. “A compelling argument my son, but it is not only you he has wronged. The Scouts deserve their chance to speak on these matters as well, given they were the ones most hurt by his actions.”

Khopesh huffs, but doesn't argue, simply responding with a, “Yes father.” To which Anrir nods approvingly, then addresses the other Scouts. 

“Khopesh has given a good example as to why I've brought you all here. I encourage you all to speak freely, One at a time of course.” He explains, then gestures to the room. “This room is shielded, no transmission can go In or Out, your words will only be known to those in this room.”

Hura picks up the conversation. “We shall be taking a vote on the fate of the Grey Knight. You will each get a chance to speak your vote, and if you deem it necessary, elaborate upon it.” 

Now Thressl scoffs a bit. “I don't think we need a whole meeting fer this? Let's just gut the Bastard an’ be done with it! I'm sure all of us have got better things to do than sit here.” The Space Wolf insists. 

Claude shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he speaks up. “I…don't think we should be so hasty.”

This actually causes some confusion, the others in the room turning to the adopted Night lord. While he did not want to be merciful- Jophiel’s words- the vision he had made him… reluctant to kill the bastard outright. For not at least.

“Claudy?” Khopesh asks, uncertain and maybe just slightly mildly frustrated, why his little brother who had been so full of righteous fury suddenly seems so much more subdued.

Claude took a deep breath, “Before we take the vote…there's something you all should know.” He states, standing and gesturing to Jophiel to do the same. “Go ahead,” He says, placing a comforting hand on the Blood Angel's shoulder. 

Jophiel also takes a steadying breath, his wings flex and settle with his nerves before he addresses the room. “I…had a vision…after I helped Lullaby ground the overflow of power they experienced.”

“I saw many possibilities; things that might already be, or haven't been yet, or may never be. The uncertainty is…frightening but the clearest of the images was thus.” Jophiel explains. “A monstrous being of gold, awakes from its slumber, it stirs at the ripples that flow outward from the melody. It hungers for b-blood…” Jophiel stammers a bit, but grounds himself with Claude's hand. “It awakens to Strangle the Melody in the cradle, to make it silent once more…”

“And the worst of outcomes are more likely…if Silver tarnishes into rust…”

The room is mostly silent, the Scouts seem confused by Jophiel's riddle speak…all except for Claude, Khopesh and Karlsor. Karlsor starts swearing under his breath while Khopesh's grip on the stress toy had increased with every word Jophiel spoke until-

POP!

The scoutlings look upon the Night Lord who appears like he's about to pop himself. Still gripping the destroyed item in his fist. Ah- visions are always complicated- and sometimes true, sometimes untrue, sometimes only partially true. But could they take the risk of discarding Jophie’s visions?

No one moves. 

At last Anrir clears his throat. “That was the Second reason for the shielded room…I'm afraid your recent incident with the Grey Knight isn't the only…event of consequence we will need to discuss as we take this vote.”

“Tell me…have any of you Scouts ever heard of a being known as, A Custodes?”

…

Walk, just keep walking, just follow the lines on the floor. 

Walk, do not run, running activates the prey drive and you're Dead. 

Walk, keep your head up to not look weak, but not so far up as to imply arrogance. 

Your thoughts swirl around, and around. The feeling of being watched had only increased as you'd followed the green lines. You had to tamp down on the urge to bolt (walkdontrunpreydrivedead), and even more so on the urge to use your powers. 

Would they do you much good in this situation?? A zap could help but then you'd have to be touching whoever was looking at you, and they might be a psycher so then they might realize it wasn't just static electricity- 

You feel your heart pick up speed with excitement as you see the doorway you knew would lead you out of this place. Away from the eyes of those with unknown intentions. 

Walk Do-Not-Run 

And you're close. You grasp the handle to the door and start to pull. 

“Leaving so soon?” 

The gasping scream you would've made is smothered by your sore throat as your other hand is snatched up in an unfightable hold. You're pulled up and back from the door, then swung around roughly till the movement stops and you can gain your bearings.

A deep navy blue ceremite clad hand is holding your arm, leaving you dangling like a child holding a teddy by the arm, only your toes are touching the floor. You glance back to see a short haired Nightlord with criss crossing facial scars grinning and chuckling in a way that makes your stomach ice over. 

You look forward and see two more shapes come into focus from the darkness. Two more Nightlords, one has his helmet on, the other looks…almost stately in appearance with well groomed stark white hair, and seemingly unblemished skin. 

“My my Myyyy, it seems you're even more…homely in appearance up close.” The white haired Nightlord purrs, going as far to pinch your Nose between his gauntleted fingers! 

He was actually pinching with a decent amount of force, enough to sting. And as he shifted his grip it actually felt like he might try to break it, before tutting at the pained whines you tried to hold back. “Oh come now Pet, don't take it so personally…homely can be Charming after all…in its own way.” He chuckled, releasing your nose, and straightening his posture.

“They Are Cute! Tiiiiiny and fragile,” The Night lord holding you up purrs sickeningly, bringing his face next to yours so you're forced to inhale his breathe, you try not to breathe in so much. “Whatcha wanna do with ‘em Faust?”

Faust hums, and drums his fingers on his chin fucking casually. “Well…there are just so many options. But I Think I know what I want to do First…” He states, and brings his hand to your face again. This time he snatches your cheeks into a little  too tight hold, forcing you to look him in the black, eyes. 

“A question…Why were you such a Rude little human?” You blinked, clearly confused but Faust did elaborate. “I Know you felt us watching, yet you didn't run. You denied us our Chase. And then you have the nerve to not even Scream, when dear Mephis snatched you up? You're either incredibly Dense or Incredibly Stupid.” 

Didn't those mean the same thing??? But Faust went on “So tell me, What is going through your empty little head?”

You were flabbergasted, but before you could even attempt to open your mouth, the other Nightlord who hadn't spoken once finally sighed. He sounded bored and exasperated. “Really Faust?”

“SHUT UP CHIROP!” Faust's voice turning from posh yet sadistic to full on snarling bile actually startles you…though maybe not just you if the twitch you felt from Mephis was anything to go by. Chirop seems to hesitate, before glancing away. Faust turns his attention back to you, and the stately gentlemen act comes back over him. “Well? We're waiting…”

You're not even sure what's trying to come out of your mouth, maybe a Huh? Or a What? But your sore throat chokes ot to nothing, leaving you flailing like a fish on a line, wincing and grasping your throat.

Now it’s the Night Lords turn to look confused. “Are you Mute as well as stupid?” Faust askes with a slight sneer.

Okay, fuck you bastard, you thought but shake your head. You bring your hand up to your throat and press your fingers to the sore spots from the outside. 

“You got Choked?” Mephis asks, confused.

Okay fair misinterpretation, you shake your head again. You bring your hand up and make a scratching motion at your throat.

“Oo! OO! I got it! Your neck is itchy?” Mephis puts forth before…bringing his other hand up, and…scratching at the back of your neck??

It was a bit roughly done, but actually didn't feel too bad. Still no though, you shake your head again. What other motions could you make to get the idea across?

Chirop sighs then growls. “For Curze's sake their throat is injured! Like Scratchy? That's why they can't talk!”

“Oh…” Mephis nods with understanding…still scratching the back of your neck. “That makes sense.”

Faust seems a little miffed by the explanation, and let's out a huff. “Well…that's disappointing…” Then a new look comes over his face, one that brings back the curdling dread in your stomach. “But…it also means no one Else will be able to hear you Scream…” He brings his grinning face full of bright sharp teeth down to your eye level. 

It's at this point Mephis stops scratching your neck. “Well yeah…they just explained they literally can't scream.”

“MEPHIS YOU ARE A BRAIN DEAD IDIOT! BE SILENT” The snarling bile came back, and this time you notice how Mephis flinches more obviously when the white haired Nightlord turns his vitriol on him. Faust huffs then brushes his hair back as if trying to compose himself. You notice how the third less chatty member of the group had flexed his claws, and leaned forward when Faust chastised Mephis. 

Interesting…and you actually Almost feel sorry for him when the Nightlord holding you mumbles out a quiet. “Sorry Faust…”

Faust seems to notice Mephis's unhappiness, and lets out a sigh. “You know I adore how…charmingly direct you are Mephis dear.” He cooes, now saccharine in his wording. 

It makes you want to vomit with how clearly Fake it was. 

“But it Can also be…tedious, and you Know how I feel about tedium, don't you?” More sweet empty cooing, you're third wheeling your own shakedown…Great…

You glance to the other third wheel with a look of confusion. He just shakes his head, and you figure he's rolling his eyes. His fists were still clenching and unclenching though.

“So…why not break up the tedium by…playing with a new toy? Would that make you feel better, my big strong lunk head?”

Okay now the dread comes back, and you did Not like how Mephis's expression changed to one of excitement. 

Chirop speaks up again. “Faust, you know who this one belongs to...”

Faust scoffs. “I don't see a tattoo anywhere, do you Chirop? Is the tattoo in the room with us?” He remarks snidely. “Or maybe that's just the opinion of yours that I didn't ask for. Besides…”

“I doubt one of Anrir's lap dog bastard sons would care if we batted around his current sex toy for a bit. He doesn't even care enough to mark them, so they can't be That important…”

You ears fill with rumbling again like before, causing This Smarmy Fuckers words to trail off into background noise. 

First he calls Your Khopesh a lap dog bastard son, then has the Nerve to insinuate that Khopesh doesn't Love You?

The man who threatened to fight the literal reason for your trauma? (Even if you'd convinced him not to.) Who gave you love and affection and banter and made you feel beautiful inside, outside, in bed, in life, introduced and integrated you into his Family for fucks SAKE.

“Hell they'd probably spread their legs for anyone who offered them safety, If they were even smart enough to think of doing so that is.”

Honestly you thought this fucker had found the straw that broke the camel's back? BUT DAMN he just keeps finding more!

You're done, you are Done with this bullshit. You've shot straight past fear and now you are going to make them-

P A Y...

Mephis you can tackle through the hand still held in his grasp but the others…

(!) And that's when it hits you. You feel your toes touching the floor, almost as if you were dancing en point. You focus, pulling on your power, and pushing it through your legs. 

As the two Nightlords continue their chatting about all the awful things they might do to you, you watch the shimmer and shift of the air as you feel the mycelium spread. 

You suppress a determined smile when you feel the subtle change in sensation of it making contact with the Nightlords. The shimmers crawl up their armor and you imagine your mycelium grasping and tangling around their Necks.

They're not psychers, you can feel how low their warp power is.

So you'll just have to drain their life force instead. If giving energy causes a boost of Vitality, draining it must do the opposite. And you weren't going to lie, the thought of these bastards dropping like flies in front of you sounded Very Appealing right now. 

You'd still need to be careful, pulling too fast could cause a zap, which might give you away. That you could not risk. It’s working. You think to yourself, pleased.

You do allow yourself a light grin seeing the shimmer on your roots become slightly more visible. You also notice how the conversation of the Night Lords has changed again. 

Namely that it's trailed off, Faust (bastardfuckfacedeadmanwalking-) swivels his head around suddenly. 

“Did you two…hear something?” He asks, actually sounding a little worried. 

Mephis looks around as well, you can feel his grip loosening as he loses focus. “Hear what?”

“Maybe it's Another opinion you didn't want to hear.” Chirop growls, more tersely, perhaps his response to your roots draining him is more anger than Fear. 

“Will you Shut your Stupid FUCKING MOUTH CHIROP I'M TRYING TO LISTEN!” 

“Is the sound in the room with us right now Faust? BECAUSE ALL I'M HEARING IS YOUR ANNOYING FUCKING VOICE!”

Mephis actually seems very distressed by this outcome. “Stop it! Both of you! We're not supposed to fight each other!”

“SHUT UP MEPHIS!” “NOT NOW MEPHIS!”

“DO NOT, GIVE HIM ORDERS!”

“OH BECAUSE THE ONLY ONE ALLOWED TO GIVE ORDERS IS YOU RIGHT!? CURZE'S SAKE I SHOULD'VE-”

“LIKE YOU HAVE EVEN A SHRED OF WHAT IT TAKES! IT’S NO PICNIC MANAGING YOU TWO IDIOTS! YOU'RE LUCKY TO HAVE SOMEONE AS CAPABLE AS ME TO KEEP YOU BOTH ALIVE AND FED!”

“PLEASE!” 

“SHUT UP!” “MEPHIS!”

Bingo, the other two were at each other's throats and the third was steadily becoming more upset which would hopefully lead to him dropping y-

“Shut UP I'M TRYING TO THINK!” 

“But I didn't say anything Fau”-

SMACK! 

Your world falls for a moment as your feet hit the concrete floor, with the rest of your body following. You roll scramble back to standing as soon as you can. Claude and you had practiced how to roll and fall properly so that you didn’t hurt yourself.

Just in case some asshole might try to grab you- from Astartes height-. Your jaw however stays fallen open as you realize what just happened. Faust actually struck Mephis across the face, who's now doubled over covering himself while Faust continues to berate him. 

“I said SHUT UP! AND QUIET YOUR INCESSANT WHINING IT'S GRATING ON MY NERVES YOU DOLT!”

“Sorry Faust…” Mephis whimpers. 

That…he can't be… If Any of the Nightlords you knew pulled something like that…Any of the Astartes you knew even! The one in Mephis's position wouldn't be apologizing! He'd be throwing hands!

Or someone would be throwing them on his behalf!

You glance back at the other Night lord who does look ready to KILL the white haired Asshole, but you notice the way he hesitates. 

Mephis briefly looks at him, and shakes his head, which seems to be the only thing holding Chirop back from committing a good old fashioned homicide. 

What the fuck kind of dynamic had you walked (been dragged) into? As much as you would love to break the prissy platinum blond bitch's nose you knew you didn't stand a chance, even one to one, but if you go for the door now, they'd probably snatch you again before you made it three steps.

For now, you had managed to keep your focus even while being dropped, so you keep draining. But you are Primarily focused on Faust.

Could anyone blame you? 

The white haired Night Lord seems to grow more paranoid by the second whipping back and forth until…his eyes land on you. 

You freeze, half from fear and the other half you still feel that bubbling seething rage in your very Soul. 

“Stop it- Stop Staring at me you little Freak!!” He snarls, maybe he can subconsciously sense what you're doing. You don't stop though.

You Like seeing the FEAR in his eyes.

Faust actually starts laughing, without humor and without breaking eye contact. “Oh OhHO little whore iS DEFIANT EY?” He giggles, and you scramble backwards as he advances. “TIME FOR YOU TO LEARN, WHAT DEFIANCE GETS YOU-” Faust shouts while winding up his arm for a back hand. 

SLAM-M-M!

A huge dark shape interrupts Faust by Crashing down from above in front of you. The entry is followed by a piercing guttural snarl and the sound of flapping bat wings. 

“SHIT IT'S THE NIGHT HAUNTER! RUN! SCATTER!!!” Mephis cries, and scrambles away into the dark with Chirop not far behind. 

“YOU IDIOTS IT'S NOT THE NIGHT HAUNTER IT'S JUST-,” 

“Just…What exactly…?” A familiar voice breathes through the ghoulish looking raptor helm. 

Faust shuts his stupid fucking mouth, before having the Gall to bring out the polite voice again. “Ahh…Ghosk, what a surprise…”

“5….”

“I'm sorry what?”

“4…”

“Now wait just a minute this is All a misunderstanding!”

“3…”

“Which has already offended you so I'll just be on my way…”

“2-1…”

“FUCKING HELL YOU IDIOTS WAIT FOR ME!” Faust cries as Ghosk chases him back into the darkness, snarling and slashing claws practically at his heels until the younger Nightlord vanishes from your sight. 

You let out a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding. Holy shit that was scary. 

But it was also Satisfying. Fuck those assholes! 

Ghosk huffs into the dark, before turning back to you. You'd met this particular Nightlord and his human. Like you'd said before, Khopesh wanted to integrate you into his family. 

He was Oooold like Anrir, but a bit more crass like Karlsor. His jokes made you snort on more than one occasion. But right now he seemed far less jovial. 

Not like you couldn't guess why…

“This is no place for squishy little humans to be walking Alone. What in Curze's name were you Thinking?” He growled in a voice that was both exasperated and Tired. 

You open your mouth to respond, but only a bit of weezy air comes out as you try to speak. 

Shit that still hurt!

You fumbled around in your bag for your phone and typed a quick message. 

'Shit popped off yesterday, ask Anrir.' 

'Throat got fucked up, not in the fun way. Literally can't talk.'

'Got locked in a room without food.' You show the picture of Karlsor's note which causes Ghosk to actually laugh slightly followed by tired mutter of “Of course he fucking did that, for fuck's sake…”

'Need to eat And I need to find the Primaris boys, especially Jophiel, have you seen them??'

Ghosk shakes his head. “Sorry kid, haven't seen any of them since this morning. Just saw Anrir being tight lipped as usual, he was with Claude though. And I haven't seen the fluffy duckling in a long while.”

Ghosk notes the way your shoulders sagged in disappointment, before an itch hits your throat causing you to hack and cough like you had tuberculosis. 

He chuckles patting you on the back as your neck throbs from the air forced through it. “Come on little human. Let's get you to the medbay.”

THuMP! 

Another loud sound similar to when Ghosk had plummeted to your aid rings out. You whip your head in the direction, and Ghosk instantly goes into another defensive stance, a snarl is building on his lips until-

“What the heck is all the ruckus down here for??” Another familiar voice comes out of another familiar helmet. This one you recognize as a Chaplain, and the voice…

Ghosk sighs heavily. “Shatterwing…”

The Chaplain whom you'd met in passing holds his clawed gauntlets up plaintively. “Hey man, I just got here- Oh!” His eyes lock onto you, and he swoops in curiously. “Khopesh's little squeeze! But not a Khopesh in sight, what's up with you? You two have a fight?”

You open your mouth, but again nothing comes out. You point to your throat, and shake your head. 

“You didn't have a fight…you just can't talk?” Shatterwing asks, cocking his head. 

Damn you're tired. You finally decide fuck it, open your mouth as wide as you can, and even hook your fingers into your cheeks. You take one hand and point down your throat to emphasize that Shatter should look Inside. Which to his credit he does. 

“HOLY DAMNED WHORE MOTHER OF CURZE WHAT DID HE DO TO YOU!?!?”

The Chaplain shrieks causing you to startle a bit, ah well ... you certainly hadn't expected that reaction, lord above. 

“The hell are you yapping about now!?” Ghosk demands. 

Shatterwing points a trembling hand at you. “Their throat is redder than a tech priest taking a mud bath on Mars! What the hell did you and Khopesh do last night?? Were you trying to do something kinky and went too far or was this expected!?-” 

Thwack! “Don't ask them that you dumb fucking slut!” Ghosk growls after delivering a quick hit to the rambling chaplain. It was much less violent than the one you saw Faust give Mephis.

The Chaplain hisses back at the older Nightlord, you just…you just shake your head. 

“Wait, that's not what happened?” Shatter asks. “Then what did?”

You open your mouth, but then close it. You can't…really tell him. So you just shake your head again. 

“Oooooh I see…too embarrassed to tell me?” Shatter posits. You feel an embarrassed blush erupting over your face at the implications. “No worries little human, you don't have to give me details. Though I certainly wouldn't be opposed. I'd be impressed to find a partner who could leave my throat like that after a night of Passion.”

You facepalm, pulling your hand down your cheeks in exasperation. You're not escaping the freak allegations today it seems. Maybe better he thinks you're just into weird stuff, saves you the trouble of making up a proper lie. 

Ghosk just sighs tiredly again before telling Shatter to either be quiet or Scram, because he's taking you to the med bay. 

The Chaplain acquiesces to the former, but you can't escape the feeling of him eyeing you smugly as the three of you make your way there. 

Lord above it's not even 11 AM and the day is already exhausting…Lucky You!

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

The Light of Truth

Author's note: More of the Primaris Boys in Husbandry. Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Pallius, Cedric & Olivar. Thank you to @c-u-c-koo-4-40k for letting me borrow Khopesh. Thank you to @kit-williams for letting me borrow Ghosk.

Warning: Character death. Characters fighting. Bloodshed. Uh. Let me know if I need to add anything.

Summary: Cedric gets a message. A brother is nearly rescued, another is nearly lost. Petras reveals his true colors to more than just Primaris Marines.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @felinisnoctis

Cedric's wrist mounted vox gets a communication ping.

[I am uncertain how much time I have left before I return to the embrace of the Omnissiah.] Castiel sends in his message through agonizing, and coughs blood from his lungs raggedly. There are some spots of blood, mucus and the mechanical fluids used to keep him alive that spatter on his vox. Ugh, despite how much the Mechanicum has enhanced him, he’s still so wretchedly fleshed.

After a few wet ragged coughs Castiel painfully continues, his voice more staticy [but I don't want to die without letting someone know the truth. Embedded in this message is a holo recording of a meeting between Chaplain Mephestil Petras of the Black Templars and a Chaos Marine… as well as his reactions to my queries on the subject. He murdered me. I hope this gets to you. The God Emperor Protects and provides for us all.]

Castiel had also sent the holo recording of Petras going too far in his punishment. When Petras finds and attacks him on Ancient Terra he's able to record some of it, as well as his agonizing cries as he tries to escape, but dies to Petras again. Castiel had managed to have his eyes- which were cybernetic to record Petras’s words and actions- and the recording cuts off after he finishes dying.

He had the message on a delayed sending, hoping that Petras wouldn't notice the vox message. Tied to send when twelve minutes after he flatlined, and he sent coordinates of where he lay dead, or so he hoped. Castiel had wanted to send it to one of his fellow Black Templars primaris Marines.

His last thoughts are Prayers to the Omnissiah that his message will get through to one of them. That Castiel’s death won’t be a waste, that at least someone will have this proof. 

Castiel knew in his hearts that it likely wouldn’t do anything much. Petras has killed Primaris Marines before with only a slap on the wrist. But at least it is something and the First borns will be interested in consorting with Chaos. Even though his life is worthless to them.

~

Cedric reads the written message, his mouth going dry, as a slow-burning fury ignites his hearts once again. He mutes the video, before playing it, as he is currently sitting down in the clinic’s staff cafeteria, and he has little doubt that the sounds of pain and misery will immediately attract the attention of everyone who could hear it.

Two. That’s two, in less than twenty-four hours. While Mattias wasn’t dead, he had been placed in a medically induced coma, to reduce the amount of movement that the young Astartes was capable of doing, as the injury to his spinal column could be operated on and treated, but was very delicate and any movements could potentially permanently render his legs unusable without spinal prosthetics or other augments that would be incredibly difficult to acquire on Ancient and Holy Terra. 

He knows that Anrir and the other Night Lords are incredibly dangerous. Its just for some reason they have decided to drag him protectively under their bat wings, rather than tear him to shreds with their talons. For now at least.

Claude and Khopesh are away from where Ghosk and the others are setting the stage for the ‘fight’ between ‘raven guard’ Anrir (or whatever name he’ll be using) and the Claw will ‘attack’ him.

Claude and Khopesh watch through binoculars as the staged fight happens- and Captain Kasz Kalleran takes the bait and falls for the trap, hook, line and sinker. His Captain did enjoy it when he could be painted as the hero of the stories he tells, regardless of the truth of the matter.

The Claw gets ‘chased off’ by the flock of Ravens who surround the wounded ‘bird’ and help patch him up. Claude closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath. Anrir is far older than he is, and knows what he’s doing. Had chosen to do this- had planned for contingencies and decided on this course of action.

Claude is distracted by a vox text message he gets from Cedric and reads it with a concerned frown on his face.  [You wanted to talk? I’m on lunch break right now. Get Ramiel. This is urgent.]

He sent a message to Claude via vox. [You wanted to talk? I’m on lunch break right now. Get Ramiel. This is urgent.]

[On my way.] Claude responds. [Where do you want to meet?]

Claude frowns, concern churning in his gut as he sends a message to Ramiel about Cedric’s request. Ramiel responds immediately to his message and sends one to Cedric as well.

“I have to go- Cedric needs my help with something,” Claude informs Khopesh.

“Have fun with that,” Khopesh says, “I’ll check on the others, see how they are doing after the ‘fight’ with the Raven Guards.”

Claude nods, “sounds good.”

[The park nearest to The Clinic. We should be able to talk freely there.] Cedric texted both Ramiel and Claude. 

While he waited for them to respond, he walked over to where Olivar was currently sitting, scowling into the bowl of food in front of him. “You know it’s not going to leap out at you and try to murder you. What’s on your mind?”

“You told me that He is on Ancient Terra, too, right? Why the fuck were we sent here, back into his reach? Unless He is from before He started…” Olivar swallowed hard, a low, wordless growl leaving him. “Should we be keeping what The Bastard has done to us a secret? Your mentor did not tolerate his grox-shite, at least when it came to you, no matter what The Shithead said you did, or didn’t do. Surely there’s got to be at least one Firstborn marine you can talk to about all of this shit.”

“... There are a couple I’ve told some of what’s happened to. In M42. They kind of bullied me into telling them, but given what they’re like, I really should have realized that they were going to do so, sooner or later. Do you remember what I told you about Bruders Roland and Arnault?” Cedric asked, rocking back on his heels a little. 

“... Yeah… One’s a battle brother,” Olivar says, “The other’s an Emperor’s Champion… something about Bonding? Bonded?”

“... Trust me, the Bonding and Bonded conversation is for when you are better healed and we aren’t doing emergency scrambling. But I think… If you, Ramiel  and Pallius agree… I think I might ask both of them to help me lodge a formal complaint against Petras, to get some kind of official record as to the grox-shite and cruelty he is capable of being known publicly.”

“That sounds vaguely ominous Ced,” Olivar says, his scowl shifting a little. He scoffs a little, “didn’t we try that before and were told ‘stop being whiny little bitch and take the ‘character building’ lumps and suck it up?’ Why would that change since we’re here?”

“Bonds are wonderful things, I promise! From what I’ve seen, they are good. Also, that was by other firstborn brothers in M42. I told them that Petras killed a dozen primaris marines in M42 and that both of them immediately swore to kill him. I entirely believe that they meant that, too.”

“I mean… you are lovable Ced,” Olivar says slightly teasingly, “And Apothecaries are hard to come by. Of course they want to protect you.”

Cedric huffed a little and shook his head “I don’t think it’s just because I’m an Apothecary. They were furious at the thought of younger brothers being killed for existing. Not that I’m advocating for Chaplain Petras to die, just to… To be brought before a tribunal and made to answer for his crimes.” 

By the god-emperor, does the wounded fury and sorrow howling in his hearts want Petras dead. Not just dead, but killed slowly, painfully. To have the fucker be made to beg and plead for mercy, for an ounce of compassion and be shown exactly as much as he gave Cedric’s Brothers. 

None. 

But that path led towards falling to Khorne, or perhaps Slaanesh, depending on the way he went about it. So formal sanctioning it was. For his own safety, and the safety of others.

“I wonder how Justice and punishment are delivered on Ancient Terra? I think that’s something we should find out, before we do anything or say anything.” Olivar scratches his cheek, “hm… let me think on it. Unless the Bastard does something… Bad here.”

“He’s killed a Primaris Tech marine. I just received Castiel’s dying vox-messages and video-footage of his murder.” Cedric answered, shaking his head a little. “Mattias - another Primaris Marine, is currently under anesthesia and in surgery because of the complications from Petras beating the fuck out of him yesterday.”

“Fucking bastard, you have convinced me, I’ll talk to who ever it is about his discipline and punishment methods.” Olivar hisses, “I remember Cassie- quiet, dutiful and always helped with weapons and armor maintenance. He was so happy to be chosen as a Tech Marine. He loved to talk about a certain kind of cog wheel.”

Cedric nodded, saying “I’m going to check in with Pallius first, then Ramiel. To see how they both feel about going forwards with what we know of petras’ crimes. I will be taking point on this. As the Apothecary of the group… And the one who survived longest in M42 before being sent to Ancient Terra, this is my duty and my burden.” With that he nodded, standing up and heading over to where Pallius was sitting and eating lunch.

~

“Pallius, I’ve run this by Olivar, and I have his vote. I won’t reveal it to you as I don’t want to influence your decision either way. But I… I am asking if you want me to come forward to certain firstborn marines - Brothers Roland and Arnault of the Black Templars, and Captain Ash’val for certain about what Chaplain Petras has done to us. He’s killed at least one Primaris Marine on Ancient Terra. He’s badly wounded Mattias, who is currently in surgery.” Cedric explained, his voice low and quick he gave the other a brief summary of what Castiel had sent to him.

“... If our words and scars can help keep others safe,” Pallius says quietly, “then… then I shall speak of the shameful things.”

“It’s not your shame, what he had done to you, Pallius. It is his. Please, you must remember this.” Cedric urged his brother, his hearts caught in the back of his throat. 

Pallius ducks his head a little at the others words as his eyes become wet and he rubs the grit from his eyes. “I… I’ll try to.”

“Thank you, Pallius. You have Dorn’s own courage.” Cedric murmured, gently pressing his forehead to Pallius’, as an affectionate gesture.

“Keep safe Ced,” Pallius says, closing his eyes and leaning into  Cedric a little, returning the gesture as much as he can. “... You have Dorn’s own courage as well Brother.”

Cedric nodded, walking out of the cafeteria as he read up on what had been sent to his wrist-mounted vox, mind whirling. 

[I got the message from Claude. I’ll be at the park in seven minutes. Do I need to get Catius or Oleandros? Or have them run a Distraction?] Ramiel sends Cedric a text vox message, adding another statement. [Eta five minutes, told Chaplain Bo’shan I was taking my lunch break. He seemed happy about that.]

[I will be there in five minutes.] Claude says a thought occurs to him and he asks [Do you want me to get Jophi?]

[... I  don’t want to involve all of the others just as of yet. Any more of this, and I request that we please speak in person. Neither of you are in trouble.] Cedric vox-texted back, making sure to send the last sentence, so as to not worry them too much. He hoped.

[Wilco.] Ramiel replies. He is worried- just what is going on? He wonders what Cedric has found out or wants to discuss. 

He had to go by Reclusiarch Feldarim’s office to get to where he was going- the other watched him go with a casual glance. But as he didn’t seem too upset, the other let him pass without harassing him. Which gives him a sense of relief, as Chaplain Bo’shan had lightly pressed him for details, and he’d said that he was meeting up with Cedric and Claude for lunch.

He’s able to excuse himself and grabs something to eat. And then ensures to grab enough for Claude and Cedric. Both of them are terrible at remembering to eat. He also grabs some of the homemade ice cream as a sweet treat, just in case the conversation needs such a thing.

Claude replies [Understood- I also have some… interesting information on Justice and Punishment that The Night Lords talked about for Ancient Terra and the Alliance.]

[Good, I have questions about that, which will help in deciding in which way things will go. Whether we go the official route, or take care of trash on our own.] Cedric texted back.

~

He must have one hell of a scowl on his face, because the baseline humans who he passes by all scramble to get the hell out of his way. While normally this would make him feel guilty, especially as the baselines who live on the base are either bonded to one of the marines who lives on base… Or they have nowhere else to live and they work jobs on base in order to pay in kind for housing and food. 

Zariel had heard the whispers and more loud complaints and worried about Fierce Angry Scowling Astarte in black and white scrubs. So he had sent a message to Ash’val, Feldarim, and after a moment’s hesitation, to Hura. Just in case.

“Cedric,” Zariel calls out carefully, “... You know I am here for you, if you need or want to talk about something that’s bothering you. If you want to talk.”

“... I acknowledge this. However, I need to speak with a couple of others. We will decide a few things and then figure out who to reach out to. You are, I will say, on the short list for the… Issue that needs handling.” Cedric responded, falling back on formal wording in order to hopefully get the teal Ultramarine to back off a little. He didn’t have the time to try and shake off a Teal tail. 

“Very well,” Zariel says with a nod, watching the younger Astarte move. “I am honored to have such trust.”

He decides that it would be best not to press him too much. After all- he didn’t want to rile the other and send him into hiding again. The fact that young Claude had managed to teach a Black Templar how to be stealthy and good at it had been… more than a little distressing… As impressed as he’d been after his hearts had stopped feeling like they were going to burst from stress.

Cedric nods brusquely before marching the rest of the way out of the base, still scowling and not in the least bit attempting to hide his expression in the least. 

Zariel also rolls a thought or two in his head. Whatever it was that Cedric had told Roland and Arnault had made the two older Black Templars exceedingly angry.  So he was going to wait before sending a message to the older ones about this… Newest thing.

~

Cedric spotted Ramiel and Claude in one of their favorite spots in the nearby park. The brief stretch of his legs, and outside did help him calm down slightly, though his nerves - and his fury - were still jangling just beneath the surface of his skin. He waved over at the two of them, attempting to smile “Hey… Claude, Ramiel.”

Claude had helped Ramiel set up the basket of food, a blend of baseline human and Astarte food and drinks. They had set it up on one of the wooden benches that was rated for Astartes to sit on safely with the table neatly set out, with a picnic cover neatly tucked around to keep things a bit cleaner.

“Hey Cedric,” Ramiel says, “I thought since it was about lunch time, and you had a Conversation to speak with us, a picnic would help the Look of things. Regardless of what is spoken about.”

“Nice to see you Ced,” Claude says with a grin.

Claude heads to the area specified by Cedric and helps Ramiel set up the picnic that the other had decided to grab. It was a good cover- and they’d get to eat something while they talk about the Urgent matter.

At least on the outset it would look like the three of them were enjoying lunch and a picnic, which would have curious eyes not think anything Suspicious is going on. Not that he thinks that Cedric is doing anything particularly troubling. But it helps throw off any potential watchers, just in case.

 Claude wonders if the Claw is encouraging his paranoia and suspicious tendencies before shaking his head a little and greeting Cedric. He sees the thunderous scowl on the other’s face and suspects that whatever he’s going to say is not going to be great.

He’s proven right as he listens, upset at what Cedric has learned. He goes over the details of what he remembers of the conversation with Khopesh about Justice and Punishments. Ramiel and Cedric agree to speak with Khopesh in public and he sends another message and Khopesh arrives swiftly.

“... A picnic does sound good.” Cedric relented, plopping down next to his Brother, leaning into his familiar warmth. He looked at the spread of food and drinks, deliberately focusing on what he could smell and see before him, in a desperate attempt to calm down, at least a little. 

Ramiel hums one of the prayer hymns that he knows helps Cedric calm down, Claude slowly reaching out and holding one of the Apothecary Apprentic’s hands and lightly squeezing it. Claude joins in on the song, humming the chorus and harmonizing with them, the words whispered in High Gothic.

He hummed along to the hymn, allowing the calming focus to come over him. Anger had it’s place on the battlefield, but too much of it was dangerous. Not only to oneself, but to everyone around the one lost to fury. He squeezed Claude’s hand back gently, managing a rueful smile “I have bad news, worse news, questions, and a proposal, contingent upon the answer to those questions. What do you want to hear first?”

“What’s the worst news?” Claude and Ramiel ask at the same time, bracing themselves.

Claude looks around them glancing at his brothers as he takes some of the bread and spreads jame and nut butter on bread- as well as sprinkling some Astarte nutri-paste and cutting it into thirds for the three of them to eat. 

Claude cast his senses, Warp-related and not to ensure that they weren’t being listened to. Glad that no one was, either through technology or warpy senses he lets go of his crackling humming power and focuses on Cedric’s words. He takes a bite of food to keep the spots of darkness out of his vision.

“Tech-Marine Castiel of the Black Templars was killed earlier today, at the hands of Chaplain Captain Petras. When Tech Marine Castiel became aware that he was going to die, as there was no one to intercede on his behalf, he sent me all of the information he had on the chaplain in question, sending it on a delay to hopefully not arouse suspicion from his murderer.” Cedric revealed, doing his best to keep his voice a low, emotionless monotone. He failed spectacularly, as his voice cracked. He paused, taking a sip from one of the glasses of lemonade before continuing “Brother Mattias of the Black Templars is currently in surgery due to the complications from the beating he received, allegedly from Chaplain Petras, according to the Hydra who brought him into the clinic late last night.”  

“God Emperor curse him,” Ramiel swears softly, before flinching as he realizes the words that had come out of his mouth. “He’s… Perhaps not escalating, but he’s continuing to do what he did back in M42.”

“... He knows he died for Challenging the High Marshal,” Claude says with a frown, his eyes flashing teal as he thinks “... For killing and purging Primaris… and he’s…doing it here when Astartes number far fewer. He’s … not likely to change his ways.”

“Ramiel, I have asked Pallius and Olivar, but I will with-hold their votes until you tell me what you want to do. Should we come forward to certain firstborn marines, and tell them about what Petras has done, both in M42, and on Ancient Terra, or would you rather we handle this ourselves?” Cedric asked, his voice shaking a little, but stubborn ferocity beat in his chest. He would deal with this fucker, one way or the other.

Ramiel reaches over- carefully telegraphing his movements as he gives his brother a side hug. Claude is on Cedric’s other side and does the same thing. The three of them gently hugged each other for a moment. Ramiel gathers his thoughts, which is hard because they keep scattering in a thousand-thousand different directions as he thinks over the other’s words. 

“I think,” Ramiel says, his voice cracking a little, he coughs and then takes a sip of the lemonade laced with hydration rations, “I think, we should go to the First borns, see what they do… if it’s … unsatisfactory …. We can… handle him after the fact.”

Cedric side-hugs Ramiel back, trembling a little with the force of the emotions running rampant within him. He focuses on Claude “You mentioned that the Night Lords spoke of how Astartes dealt Justice in this time period? Please explain to the best of your abilities. Your answers will help me decide whether or not I will come forward with the information to whoever I’m supposed to in an official capacity… Or if I just ask Arnault and Roland if he would please help me murder a bastard. They are both already aware of Petras’ crimes in M42 and swore to kill him.” Their vehement and immediate declarations of Murder had been… Cedric swallowed a little. They had been more gratifying than the young Apothecary had wanted to admit.

“So Khopesh and the Claw of Night Lords knows about why certain… First Born Brothers in M42 don’t like us… And they find that reasoning stupid, foolish and wasteful. Claude nods, “That- actually is one method of Justice that the rest of the chapter’s can’t mess with. Justice for crimes done, unless it’s inter-chapter stuff, or there is a request to intercede on the behalf of the victims, is done in-chapter. Unless their crimes are bad enough that an Example needs to be made.”

Claude gathers his thoughts and pulls out the data slate and reads the notes he’d taken, the conversation that he had with Khopesh. He hands the data slate over so they can read about Hunting- and how the worst of the Astarte criminals, like serial killers, are handed over to the Night Lords, which is one of the worst punishments that can happen to a person. How the Hunt is declared- what happens during it, and after.

“There is a precedent,” Claude says, licking his lips a little, “where if an Astarte is killing other Astarte- that their Chapter, at first are the ones to handle them, but if for whatever reason they can’t or won’t… They tend to be handed over to the Night Lords. I… uh… asked some Questions- and Khopesh seemed… excited about the idea of a Hunt. I think… no, I know he reported the conversation we had about Justice and Punishment to the Claw Leader- Anrir, who’s an Apothecary- who’s older than Hura.”

“... Petras wasn’t the only one killing Primaris Marines in M42. Nor was he the only Firstborn Black Templar to be doing so.” Cedric murmured, his voice low and quiet. “As much as I want… As much as I want to raise bolter and blade against the fucker myself, alongside whoever else wants to kill him. I don’t… I don’t think that simply killing Petras will ensure long-term protection of our fellow Primaris Marines. I will ask Arnault and Roland their opinions on this… But…”

“There are other punishments,” Claude says, “They talked about.. Flaying… among other things. Some. Very graphic descriptions that I won’t go into detail about right now, as well as having the people who were hurt by the person, to either participate in the person’s punishment actively, or have a hand in deciding how they are punished. There is, unfortunately, a need to gather evidence and proof of crimes more than verbal witness evidence.”

“Would the recorded audio-visual recordings of a now-murdered marine be enough evidence?” Cedric asked bluntly. 

“... Will you allow me to ask Khopesh that?” Claude says, “I think so- but I’d need his opinion, he’s been here longer, and knows more about Justice and the legal framework that the Astartes have developed here.”

Cedric nodded “Go for it. You’re the one with contact with him.”

Claude sends Khopesh a vox text [Please don't run to Anrir or the others about this quite yet. But hypothetically, if Ced- er someone had Audio/visual proof about Cas- er I mean, someone else, HYPOTHETICALLY being murdered by Pet- er a third someone else, that is currently,  hypothetically on Ancient Terra right now, and has a history of murdering primaris marines, what would happen? And this person that hypothetically nearly murdered Mat- I mean someone else as well.]

Khopesh hears a pinging noise and looks down at his vox, he can’t stop the grin that grows on his face and thinks to himself, ‘Bingo!’

“You seem pleased, something good?” Ghosk notes, lightly pressing the younger member of the Claw for more information if the other wanted to share.

“... Not yet- but soon. Hopefully.” Khopesh says. He’s not going to tell Anrir or the other members of the Claw yet. Per Claude’s request, for now. But finally. He’s glad that Claude is finally trusting them, or at least him more. 

“Alright,” Ghosk replies with a nod. “Keep in mind we can only back you up if we know what’s going on.”

“Yes Ghosk,” Khopesh says with a nod. He does send a message back to Claude. [A Primaris Killer- or an Astarte killer, like the one you texted me about would be setting himself up for execution. Especially if he has a heinous list of crimes and it’s clear that he’s not stopping.]

Claude responds swiftly to the message [Thank you for the information.]

Khopesh sends another message to Claude that [you all can argue for the Primaris killer being an ongoing and unremorseful threat. So they can Hopefully get the maximum punishment of execution by Night Lords. Or depending on the Chapter preferred executioners.]

[Thank you for that- so far as we know, he’s only gone after Black Templars.] Claude responds. [Knowing him… he might escalate to other Primaris if he comes across them. He’s got a nasty temper.]

[But even without that. The chapter the murderer is a part of would be Heavily pressured to either remove their own bad actor, or turn him over so he can be removed.]  Khopesh sends the message to Claude, and he is getting excited.

Khopesh is excited that Claude trusts them more, And that he'll soon be able to talk to Anrir and the others about getting a proper Hunt going. Ghosk waved at the younger Night Lord as he watched the younger one leave, wondering what was going on.

But patience...Patience! Like Anrir always says. He feels like he's vibrating- and is glad that he moved out of where the rest of the Claw are- because they would see the expression on his face and demand to see his communicator to know what’s going on.

A thought suddenly strikes Khopesh and the excitement dims a little and he sends another message- a very Anrir thought as he remembers watching the older Night Lord work and talk to others and sends another message, [I won't tell Anrir without your permission....But I also don't want you and your brothers to be in active danger. I have enough on my rotted conscience, so if things get bad. Please don't make me live with staying quiet. For however terrifying he might be. Anrir wants to help you, Claude. We all do. But we can't Do that unless you Tell us what we need to know. Information Is Warfare isn't it?]

Khopesh hopes he isn’t pushing Claude too much, but this is need to know information, and the fact that the youngest member of his Claw was talking about things in more specific detail was Important. Especially with that fucking bastard of a Raven Captain- that they are helping him handle as well.

[Could you send me a copy of the evidence that you and your brother-cousins have?] Khopesh sends, [The evidence that can be submitted to the Alliance, it will help clinch the Hunt to being declared.]

Khopesh has an excited blood thirsty expression on his face- and he is moving around pacing back and forth. He’s so tempted to try and find out where Claude is to rush over and talk, and see if he can get more answers out of him and the other Primaris Marines.

His excitement cools down and he shakes his head as he rereads one of the messages, [wait- no, if the message gets intercepted, they’d need a backup of it to show the Alliance.]

[Cedric and Ramiel say they want to talk with you in person.] Claude sends, [we are at the park nearby the Loyalist base on Cherry lane and main street. Could you come by and speak with us? Things… might be escalating.]

[I’ll be there as soon as I can] Khopesh responds and tries not to run to where Claude and the others are. He’s. really excited. The Primaris Marines are trusting them with this! And they- hopefully will help get the Primaris Marines to have Justice prevail and have a Hunt. It has been so long since they have been able to Hunt.

Khopesh tries to calm down and sees the way that Claude, Cedric, and Ramiel are sitting around a table, there is a quaint looking picnic- clever, make a serious meeting look like something more innocent, clever, clever boys. After the explanation they give, the video is shown and he watches it in full.

"You have footage of one of your battle brothers murders? Fantastic!” Khopesh says.

Cedric stills for a moment. The sheer visceral excitement radiating off of the Night Lord is off-putting to say the least. He briefly glances at Claude. What the fuck? He thinks particularly loudly at his witch-adjacent Brother-cousin. “... I find the joy you show in the death of another marine to be… Unsettling.”

Ramiel’s jaw clenches and blue eyes spark with rage and his hands clenched into fists and Claude jumps in before either of his cousins could smack the crap out of Khopesh, “ the translation "I'm excited we'll soon get to avenge your fallen and deliver Justice!" Not I’m happy your brother is dead.”

Claude very much understands what the former sounds like, and it had been shocking to hear such things, but he had learned how to understand Night Lords and the way they speak. He especially knows Khopesh better, having interacted with him a lot more than his brother-cousins, to keep them from getting too mad at the First Born Night Lord.

Khopesh calms down a little, realizing how callous that sounded, especially since this person is a threat- likely to them personally, as well as to others and apologies, “Sorry- that came out wrong. It really sucks that your brother is dead. I’m excited to be able to help you with this mess. That video- it’s Key Evidence in getting your tormentor put down, or whatever punishment you think is best.”

Cedric pauses for a moment before sending a copy of Castiel's dying video to the Night Lord. “Here is what he sent me. He timed it so hopefully his murderer wouldn't realize he was being recorded. Given the fact that Petras beat another Primaris marine to the point Mattias is currently in surgery now… The Chaplain must be nearby.”

Khopesh is a mixture of emotions, and his trembling a little as he tucks his hands behind his back as his hands clenched into fists. He’s a mixture of Excitement and Rage. How dare that bastard, Petras, go after the Primaris. 

Claude asks him, “What do you think of it?”

"I'm thinking I'd start with flaying Just the fingers! Then I'd yank the phalanges out one by one, on the right hand.” Khopesh starts, “For the left I'd Act like I was going to do the same, then snap the arm and force him to Bite Off his own fingers so the hands would Match-"

Part of Cedric was mildly Disgusted by Khopesh starting to explain what he would do to The bastard. The rest of him wanted to let the deranged Night Lord continue.

"About this Video as Evidence! Khopesh! How is the quality of the evidence!?" Ramiel interrupts.

"Oh right! Sorry...like I said it's fantastic as evidence. It clearly shows the perpetrator, goes decently in depth about his crimes, includes the bastards own fucking vileness on display and though it may sound tactless. Your deceased brother's testimony is something the Alliance will not be able to ignore. It may seem... disingenuous, but the pain and outrage you feel should be Used. It will show the tribunal that these crimes Must be Answered for, Your brother's lives not spent in Vain!" Khopesh says his eyes blazing with emotion and passion. "You never should have had to seek out this justice. Your elder brothers should have taken you beneath their wings, Like Anrir did for us!"

Cedric shifted a little, feeling the need to defend the firstborn Templar brothers who actually gave a damn about him and his Brothers. “A couple of our older Brothers have taken us in. Arnault and Roland have done their best to care for and protect us. As soon as they became peripherally aware of a threat to us that we hadn't told them about they would try and press for explanations. When… I told them earlier this week about Petras when Mattias was first brought in for treatment. They intended to kill the Chaplain, and said as much.” 

Khopesh paces around the table, prowling as he continues his rant, this explains why Claude and the others could be so stars- damned jumpy. Why Claude was so slow to trust- slow to allow himself Anrir and the other’s protections. 

Afraid of what being put under the protection of an older brother means accepting they have some power over you- and seeing and hearing that his cousins were murdered by shit head- and Claude and others getting beaten… yeah no. He’d be reluctant to give up any freedoms, even if it would help in some ways.

"But that's not the path this...Petras bastard chose. He Chose and by the looks of it continues to Choose to harm his own Battle Brothers, and worst! Those He should be responsible for." Khopesh says. "He is the worst type of Predatory, Vile, Rotten Bastard! And he Deserves to answer for his crimes. Your brothers, your fallen, deserve to have him Answer for his crimes."

"Let Us help you present this evidence Claude. Let the Claw help you and your brothers..." Khopesh doesn't use Your Claw as he feels it might push too hard and cause Claude to retreat. 

Instead Khopesh uses The Claw, still implying that Claude is a part of it, but leaving it up to interpretation. Avoiding Our Claw or My Claw as those could distinctly put Claude outside it, which is not true, and he doesn’t want to have Claude feel alienated, fuck the poor kid has had that done to him back in M42, him and his brothers.

Cedric, Ramiel, and Claude get an urgent text vox message from Jophiel it reads  [I’ve got a wounded Black Templar Primaris Marine. Near the stone outcropping two hours in the forest west of Gannet point. I’m stalling Petras- the fucker is Insane. Please help. Or send help. He’s threatening to kill me and Sariel. He knows about the Alliance rules, he just doesn’t fucking care.]

Cedric stood up, and swore under his breath, looking at Khopesh. “While you’re not the firstborn Brother who I’d choose to ask for help, you’re already here and I don’t know how long we have before the situation gets worse. We just received a call for help from Jophiel, a Primaris marine. He’s trying to keep another Primaris Marine alive and is facing Petras without help. We need Petras restrained now. If you mean your words, come and help us.” With that, Cedric took off at his top speed towards where Jophiel had pinged his location, texting back [I am coming! Delay him as long as you can!]

[I will do my best.] Jophiel responds.

He then messaged Arnault and Roland at the same time [Petras is attacking someone at this location. If you are able and willing, please help me keep him from murdering more Primaris marines.]

He gets an immediate response from both Arnault and Roland. Roland answered first. [On my way.]

Arnault answered [Will be there soon. Stay safe and be smart.]

His hearts drop to his stomach when he sees Jophiel on the ground, wings broken, and Petras standing over him. A Crusade of Black Templars and a dead Primaris Black Templar.

"You bastard!" Claude hears Cedric hiss as he chases after his charging Black Templar Brother cousins.

The closer they get to Petras and his Crusade, Cedric suddenly drops to Jophie's side- realizing the other is alive. "Why did you drug him? Break his wings?"

"He went mad," Petras says, "And he killed the Primaris Black Templar."

"LIAR!" Claude hears Cedric bellow. "Jophie is many things a brother killer, he is not."

"His blade is bloodied, and killed the Black Templar," Petras counteracts, telling the truth.

Khopesh has approached Jophiel and is messing with the younger Space Marine's helmet and lets out a dark chuckle and says, "You fool- Jophiel was recording the conversation he had with you."

"... what?" Petras says, sounding caught off guard.

Khopesh gives him a cruel smile and flips the helmet and projects the truth of the matter- Jophiel confronting Petras- who reveals his true cruelty.

How Jophiel tried to escape Petras at first- and only fought him after he'd broken his wings and made it so that escape wasn't likely. How Petras was the one to kill the Primaris Marine- using Jophiel's own weapon.

The looks of shock and horror and disappointment and disgust on the faces of Petras's Crusade have them circling around Petras- rather than trying to defend him.

Petras scowls, realizing that the jig is up and he taunts, "So- you know I have killed two of your disgusting Abominations."

"We are not abominations," Ramiel says tremulously, shaking, terrified, but wanting to stand against the bastard that murdered him in M42. "You are- you m-murdered me and a dozen of our brothers in M42- and have killed at least two of us here!"

Cedric moves closer to Ramiel, standing so that he is half in front of his terrified Brother, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he glowers at Petras. 

"Ah, so you have only found two of my victims," Petras taunts. "The souls of my other victims will never know peace because the location of their bodies will die with me."

"Who says that we will kill you here and now?" Khopesh says slyly, "After all- death is what you will get, but oh- how you should suffer before you die!"

[c-u-c-koo-4-40k]

Ah Draco...charming as Ever.

He's Such a pouty bitch.

Lana: I want the Hyrdas in my life and I value their bonds just as much as I value yours.

Draco: *shocked Pikachu face*

My response. Cope Seethe Kick Rocks Chew Gravel.

Is that the Consequences of Myyyy actions??

Yes, yes it is dumbshit, welcome to your wake up call.

Sharing is (not) Caring

Of Fin and Feathers/ Living Waters AU: Lana is wounded in the aftermath of forming an intense bond with the Grey Knight during Claude's rescue. She's brought back to the gannet roost to recover. Zariel and Draco Kai (Grey Knight) learn to share, even though they don't like it at all.

Author's Note: Promise this is a lighter, if a tad silly, fic written with @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan. I wanted to know what happens after Claude's rescue with Lana's new polycule. To say the least, these boys learn to get along, just barely, for Lana's sake.

Also, the Grey Knight goes by Draco and Stormbreaker which are used interchangeably in the fic.

Tagged: @shadowfirecat , @kit-williams , @bleedingichorhearts , @barn-anon , @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@sleepyfan-blog, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @bispecsual , @ms--lobotomy , @whorety-k

In her unconsciousness, Lana heard muffled growling, arguing, then she felt carried in somebody’s arms. They were flying somewhere, she could feel the rushing air move through her feathers. Then she felt like she was home or close to it. she could hear the busier than usual clamor of voices in the distance. There was suddenly more arguing and then she heard the familiar voice of Zariel sending all his brothers away, leaving him and whoever was holding onto her. A hand gently wiped away the blood from her face with a damp cloth. 

Lana opened her bleary eyes, seeing the familiar surroundings of the nest she shared with her bonded Alpha Legion brothers, “Zariel?” She croaked. Her throat feels dry and thick. 

Her bonded came to her side immediately, stroking her cheek and nuzzling her.  

“Lana! My Lovely Lana…” Zariel breathed, pressing his forehead against hers. He saw that the internal injuries caused by her rejection of the bond between her and the Grey Knight had wounded her badly. When they went to give her a healing potion, Stormbreaker, ever mistrustful, guarded over Lana, preventing them from helping her. Only when Mara stepped in, had he allowed them to give Lana the potion. 

“Zariel!” She nuzzled back, “You’re alright.” She smiled, her eyes watery, but with relief in her voice. 

The Alpha Legion mer chuckled, “It’s you who was injured, my love.” Wiping away her tears that were threatening to fall. 

“You shouldn’t have rejected our bond.” A deep grumble sounded above her. Lana looked up to see the intense white eyes of the Grey Knight staring back at her. Immediately, she started to tremble and her breathing came out stuttered and panicked. Lana let out a shrill cry of fear and tried to push away to reach for her bonded Alpha Legionary. The large silver mer tightened his hold on her and commanded gruffly, “Stop moving and calm down! I’m your bonded, remember? I won’t harm you!”

The harpy froze, panting and wide-eyed. Zariel grabbed her claw in his hand, “Easy Lana.” He cooed, “Focus on me. Breathe with me, sweet one.”

Frightened pale eyes met his teal as Lana followed his instruction. Zariel placed Lana’s claw to his throat and purred, watching as his bonded slowly calmed down. 

“Better?” He asked. 

Lana relaxed in Stormbreaker’s hold and smiled at him, “Yes. Thank you.” 

Zariel placed a kiss into her palm, “Good. Do you remember Stormbreaker?”  

“I…” the harpy slowly sat up with one hand from each of her bonded supporting her back. Memories of the intense bond striking through the core of her soul, of her trying to reject their bond, the promises Stormbreaker made, the promise she made in return, floated into her mind. Lana looked at the large silver mer, his gaze a little more tentative, not wanting to scare her further after her panic attack. “I do…” she replied hesitantly. 

“We are bonded, you are safe. I vowed to protect you and your colony. You need not fear me.” He stated, his tone more gentle than before. 

Lana looked away, feeling conflicted and embarrassed by her panicked reaction, “Right… yes… I’m sorry.”

Stormbreaker kissed her forehead and purred, “Apology accepted, my Lana.”

That purr turned into a growl when he saw Zariel reach for her again. Lana grabbed his nearest hand, her brows furrowed with worry, “Please stop. I’m their bonded as much as I am yours.”

Stormbreaker huffed gently, “Fine.” He’ll tolerate the Hydra’s insistent presence for her sake. 

Zariel glumly stated, holding onto Lana’s claw, “Nerian said that since your injuries were caused by the rejection of your bond with Stormbreaker, he will need to stay with you so your bond can rebuild and help in your recovery. Healing potions could only supplement the recovery for injuries like that.”

Lana squeezed his hand, giving her bonded a faint smile, “I understand. Thank you for telling me.”

A shuffling of claws drew their attention as a younger gannet harpy entered their nest area. She held a bowl of soup. 

“Hello, Leto.” Lana weakly greeted. Zariel moved aside for the young harpy to sit by his bonded. 

Leto gave the bowl of soup to her older cousin, “Pa made this fish soup for you.”

“That better not be poison, whelp.” Draco stated, his voice full of suspicion. 

Insulted, Leto immediately hissed at him. He growled back at her, baring his teeth slightly. Lana opened her wing protectively, hiding Leto behind it and scolded her newest bonded merAstartes, “Stop it, Stormbreaker! She’s not here to poison me! Her father is one of the healers in the colony.”

”Why would I want to poison my cousin? That’s so stupid!” The younger harpy piped up, poking her head over Lana’s wing. 

Zariel snorted at the Grey Knight’s surprised and irritated expression. He got up. He needed to do a round to check on the other injured mer-Astartes who were staying with the colony until they were well enough to move or be moved. It shouldn’t take him long. The Alpha Legionary felt a tug on his tentacle and looked down to see Leto hanging onto it.

“Cousin Zariel, do you have to go?” She asked, her eyes kept nervously glancing in Stormbreaker’s direction. 

“Yes, Leto. I will be back shortly.” He reassured her, understanding her wariness around the Grey Knight. He was rather intimidating, and gave off the most icy attitude. Even Erriox, with his ever so stern demeanor, was more approachable than Stormjerk here. 

“But…”

Zariel sank down to pat her head, “You’ll be safe. Lana’s here. Stormbreaker won’t hurt you as he promised.” He looked at the Grey Knight. 

“Under the threat of bond breakage.” Lana stated.  

Leto gasped, worry colouring her face. Her pa had told her what happened earlier, “But wouldn’t that kill you too?”

“Yes.” Draco answered, his grip on Lana stiffened, trying hard to keep the sneer out of his voice, “It will kill both of us. Does that dissuade your worries, young one?” 

He felt disgust (It cannot be envy, he is beyond that feeling. Especially over an Alpha Legionnaire.) watching how easily that traitor interacted with the two harpies. How familiar they are with each other to the point that the two-faced traitor took the title of “Cousin Zariel”… And the audacity of that whelp to disrespect him… nothing a good beating or harsh training couldn’t solve. But Draco won’t speak these thoughts, lest Lana become even more displeased with him. It felt like needles stabbed his hearts seeing her react so fearfully to his presence when she woke up earlier. At least now that she’s calmed down, Lana made no move to get away from him. He needed to build her trust in him, not destroy it. 

“Oh… uh… yes.” Leto mumbled, deflated, as if the wind was taken out from under her wings at the seriousness of the Grey Knight’s promise. 

Zariel ruffled her crest feathers playfully, “You’ll be fine. Help me keep an eye on them.”

“Fine! Okay! Okay!” The young harpy giggled trying to ward off the ruffling by ducking under her wing. 

Using a tentacle, The Alpha Legion mer lifted Lana’s claw to his mouth, gently kissing her knuckles, “I’ll be back soon. Finish the soup that Leto gave you.”

“Will do.” She answered, smiling at him. Zariel smiled back then turned to leave. 

Leto turned her attention to her older cousin after watching the squid-like mer leave, “Cousin Zariel is right, this soup should give you a boost of nutrients that you need after taking that healing potion. You might feel sleepy after but you need rest after all that craziness.”

Lana slowly drank the bowl of soup then passed the empty bowl to Leto. Grateful for the medicinal supplement, she said to her, “Please give Soren my thanks.”

The younger harpy smiled, “Will do.” she then added, “Pa said that you should hold off on eating anything solid until you take two more doses of the mid-grade potions. Just so we can make sure you’re okay.”

Lana shuddered as a sudden wave exhaustion washed over her, “Wow, this didn’t take long.” she commented, relaxing against Draco’s chest. The warmth emanating from his body made it a struggle to keep her eyes open. 

The Grey Knight quietly dismissed Leto, “Go, we will notify your father once Lana is awake.”

Leto nodded and got up to leave. 

Lana’s eyes kept fluttering as she struggled to stay conscious as she felt Draco lay down, holding her, “Don’t we…?” She yawned. 

Draco purred, “It’s alright. Sleep Lana. I will watch over you.” Feeling pleased when Lana hummed and pressed herself against him as she drifted off to sleep.  

**************

“Where am I? Why am I so tired?” Lana asked groggily when she woke up again. 

A deep voice rumbled, “We’ve returned to our nest. You are still healing from internal wounds.” 

That voice resonated with her soul, but in her exhausted, still sleep-addled state, Lana didn’t recognize it; it certainly wasn’t one of the Alpha Legion brothers. She turned her head towards the voice and was met with the giant silver form of the Grey Knight curled up next to her. Lana’s eyes widened in shock and fear, and tried to scramble away from the silver mer. 

Draco held onto the frightened harpy, frowning at her reaction. It’s as if she forgot that he was her bonded. Again. Learning from the first time when Lana panicked, Draco purred instead, mentally sending calm waves through their bond trying to comfort her, “My Lana. You are my bonded, remember?” He pressed his forehead gently against hers, “You fell unconscious and I carried you back to our nest. Relax, you are safe.”

Lana instinctively pressed back against him, slowly relaxing as she could feel a calm thrumming through the core of her being. She wasn’t sure where it came from, either their bond or the Grey Knight himself. And as much as she didn’t want to admit it, whatever that was, it was comforting. Draco’s purrs grew deeper, pleased that his Lana was reciprocating his affection. He tightened his embrace. 

Slowly, the memories of what happened resurfaced in her mind. Lana blinked, gazing up at the hooded white eyes of the Grey Knight. She whispered weakly, “It’s you.” A troubled expression crawling onto her face. 

“Yes. Your Stormbreaker.” He answered, nuzzling her, his lips grazing over hers. 

“Lana?” Zariel called out as he returned, “Are you awake?”

She immediately turned towards the sound of his voice and called back, “Zariel!” 

The Alpha Legion mer was quick to reach her side. Taking advantage of the Grey Knight’s surprise at Lana’s reaction, Zariel pulled her into his arms from the Stormbreaker’s hold, wrapping his tentacles around her. Lana clambered onto him, draping her wings over shoulders, her claws grasping onto him tightly. 

“Zariel… oh Zariel!” Her voice unwinding from worry to relief as she buried her face into his neck, breathing in his familiar scent. 

Zariel kissed her temple, ignoring Draco’s glare, “Don’t you sacrifice yourself like that ever again. We… I can’t bear to lose you.” he whispered desperately. 

“I will try not to do that, unless it’s necessary.” Lana let out a muffled warble; she didn’t have the heart to tell him that for the good of the colony or flock, any and all harpies would gladly sacrifice themselves.

“Then my brothers and I will make it so you will never have to do that.” He replied, staunch and unwavering in his vow. Zariel pulled Lana up to meet him and kissed her fiercely, passionately, as if he would never be able to kiss her again. 

Lana relaxed into his embrace, and closed her eyes, “Zariel…” a soft moan escaping her. 

Draco's claws twitched at the display of affection. Lana’s moan was the last straw. She had a lovely voice but she should be moaning his name, not that damned Alpha Legionary’s. Throne only knows what witchery these traitors cast on her and her colony for them to end up in this situation. 

“Cease your flagrant display, Hydra.” He growled, deep and possessive, wrapping an arm around his harpy from behind. 

Zariel’s glances up at the giant fucking bastard of a Space Mer-ine. The boys had stutteringly told him and the rest of the Alpha legion squad, as well as Erriox about Gray Knights. What they knew about their chapter and mannerisms and habits. At least, what little the boys knew of as truth, and none of it was good.

Entitled, powerful, and known to exterminatus an entire planet. Demon hunters. Demon slayers. And from what the boys have said, allied with the damned Inquisitors, the Ordo Malleus, the chambers militant. 

All that was able to be done solo- which was a singularly terrifying amount of power. If fear was something that Astartes could feel, at least. Zarius and his squad brothers had to leave, despite really not wanting to do so, not with their Lana so injured, to speak of Gray Knights in person with their Handler- and to the local Alpha legion chapter master.

From what he heard- they were going to be considered a Custodes level threat. “Lana and I are bonded with each other. I am hers, and she is mine.” Zariel growled. 

While he needs to thread the needle from not pissing off a Psyker powerful enough to be able to actually kill demons, he also needs to show that he’s not going to bend over backwards for this shit head.

Also- he bristles at the fact that Stormbreaker is so possessive of Lana- who is her own person, and should be able to make her own choices in regards to the Bonds that linked her and those Space Marines blessed to have them.

Draco growls darkly, deep and low in his chest at the uppity little hydra’s words, “She is mine, we are Bonded together- it's a far superior and more powerful bond than the fragile spider-silk bonds that she has with you. Begone, Hydra.”

Zariel stubbornly holds onto Lana, unwilling to yield her over to the Grey Knight. He sneers, “No. Our bond is just as important to her if not more so. Why do you think Lana kept and protected our bonds with so much effort? You agreed to Lana’s terms in order to stay bonded with her and she had asked that she be able to freely spend time with us. So honor the agreement, Brother-Captain of the Stormbreakers.”

Both Astartes tighten their grip on their bonded harpy. 

Draco looms over the smaller mer, “Don’t presume your witchery and tricks hold that much power over her.”

“Please stop.” Lana let out a strangled whimper, “Both of you. Your grip. It hurts!” 

She felt like she could breathe again as their holds went slack immediately, though not letting go. 

“I’m sorry, my Lana/ Lana love.” Both her bonded Astartes said simultaneously. Then glared at each other. 

Draco growls and narrows his eyes at the damned Hydra, “Begone- you are unneeded.”

“The Hell I am,” Zariel snarls back, teal eyes darkening with wrath, “I’m an Apothecary- and I won’t let you stop me from tending to my patient and our Bonded. Let her go.”

“You two, please stop arguing.” Lana keens softly between them. All this tension and arguing is just adding to her growing headache. She prayed silently to the Skymother that these arguments won’t be something she will have to deal with forever and that all of them will get along soon enough. To be honest, all she wanted was some peace and quiet to sleep right now. 

Lana tilts Zariel’s face downward towards her, his angry glare softens as he watches her. She kisses his lips tenderly, “Patience, Zariel. Can you do that for me?”

“I can, for you, my lovely Lana.” He hums as he kisses her back. 

She gives him a fond smile with a murmured “thank you”, before turning to reach out to Draco. He immediately leans into her touch. Lana pulls him close to nuzzle him, “I know you need to stay close since our bond will help me heal from these injuries faster and I know you hate to share. But please, please let Zariel stay, he is an apothecary and I trust him. He is also my bonded as much as you are and I want him here too. His presence is comforting.”

Draco’s white eyes stare at her in disbelief. Trust him? His presence is Comforting? He watches the Hydra looking at his bonded with a lovesick expression. Touching his mind, the Grey Knight is surprised by Zariel’s sincerity. However, the Hydra’s specialty is in espionage and influencing major events using underhanded means. Draco wouldn’t put it past the Hydra brothers just playing the long game using whatever and whoever to achieve their nefarious goals. 

It stings a little when Lana asks for Zariel to stay though. Isn’t his presence comforting enough? Draco suspects it’s because of her familiarity with the Alpha traitors. At least his bond is the one that Lana needs to recover, though she shouldn’t have rejected their bond in the first place or else she wouldn’t have been wounded like this. However, he isn’t going to deny that this allows him to hold his harpy bonded close and protect her against those traitorous bastards. It’s a selfish thought, but he likes having Lana all to himself.

Zariel let out a big sigh, “I don’t like this as much as he does, but I am willing… to share.” 

Draco’s grip on Lana stiffens watching her glance and smile thankfully at the other mer. The Grey Knight huffs, “Fine… He can stay. I… will share according to your request.”

Gentle soothing waves from his bond quiets the possessiveness and worry in his mind as her soft gaze turns to him, “Thank you.” Lana says, smiling. She kisses him, “I know it is difficult for you to share, so thank you, D- Mmnh…” 

Draco pushes into the kiss, muffling his name that was about to fall from her lips, “I only ask for you to not be afraid of me.” he rumbled lowly, their lips barely parting, “I’m your bonded, I’m not your enemy, so treat me as such.”

“I…” Lana paused. She looked away, guilt eating away at her conscience. Draco was bonded intensely to her (not that she had a choice), she… should technically treat him as her bonded, like Zariel and his brothers. But… he hurt so many of them: young Claude, young Jophiel, the other merAstartes who came to rescue them, some of them wounded so badly that she thought they wouldn’t survive. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened… even what she’s doing now, she feels guilty for giving in and responding to her bond with the Grey Knight. 

He can see unease cloud his harpy’s expression and feel doubt pulse across their bond. Draco cups her face, his thumb stroking down the feathers on her cheek. He kisses her again, “I will protect you and the colony. Trust me, my Lana.” 

“She barely knows you and your introduction wasn’t exactly a pleasant meeting. Give her time.” Zariel interjects, sneering. He couldn't help but feel slightly envious of the affection Lana is giving the Grey Knight. He understands that the Grey Knight is also her bonded and thus has the privilege of receiving her affection as much as they do. He feels secure in his relationship with Lana, but Stormbreaker demanding to be treated like one of them, despite all he did and all the hurt he had caused, leaves a sour taste in his mouth. 

His instincts were also screaming at him to deal with the Threat. The primaris boys have told them bits and pieces about what he and his Chapter are like. He has sent the information on to the network and really would prefer it if he could drive Stormbreaker off, but he can't. Not with the Bond in place, not without losing Lana. The bastard. Zariel knows that for her to recover Stormbreaker needs to be with her, but he's not going to let the giant silver witch take Lana all for himself. 

Draco was about to say something insulting back at the Hydra when Lana interrupts him, “I… will try, Stormbreaker. But Zariel is right. I need time to be able to trust you fully. And… to get to know you. It took a long time to trust Zariel and his brothers too. You’re not the only one.”

“I… understand.” The Grey Knight mer conceded, displeased, but knowing if he didn’t, it would make Lana distrust him further. He keeps the scathing words he has on the tip of his tongue held behind his teeth- he’ll use them once he’s more settled into the Bond with his Lana… and the Harpy Colony views him as they should: a mighty protector and someone to give respectful deference to.

Lana tiredly breathes a sigh of relief and lays down to rest, closing her eyes, “If you two could just get along and just give me some peace and quiet so I can sleep, I would be ever grateful…” her voice drowsily drifts off. 

“Of course, my lovely Lana.” Zariel murmurs, kissing her nape, shuffling closer before laying down so Lana’s back rests against his chest. He draped a tentacle over her hip and wrapped an arm under her breasts. Smiling, he felt her relax into him. 

Draco glared at the Hydra’s brazen placement of his limbs on his Lana. He shifted closer as well, gently sandwiching their harpy between themselves, and wrapped his arm over her waist. Lana, churring in her sleep, nuzzled into his chest and curled her outer leg over the thin end of his tail, trapping it between her legs. Pleased with her unconscious gesture of affection, Draco kissed Lana’s forehead, rumbling, “Sleep, my Lana.”

The two mers then glared at each other. Each whisper-hissing at the other. 

“Pervert.”

“Hypocrite.”

Lana squirmed suddenly and tried to sit up, “You say something?” She mumbled drowsily. 

Both of them gently pushed her back down. 

“It’s nothing, my Lana.” Draco purred, gently scratching her back. 

“Go to sleep, love.” Zariel hummed, adding his purr onto Stormbreaker’s soft rumbling purr, quickly lulling their bonded harpy back to sleep. 

[reagan-the-saunders]

| Cleric, Wizard, Warlock, Rogue.

More classes gifs

[lemongrace]

Lady Zariel, the Benevolent Light 🔆

a villain character for my RP storyline! a Highborne Arcanist who uses just a touch too many illusions to amplify her appearance

[lemon-drop-soda]

You may not like it, but this is what peak performance looks like

[c-u-c-koo-4-40k]

Meant to reblog this before.

Damn these lads have been through hell. Not worth it? Those seem like words that were trained into them and it Sickens me.

Hopefully Zariel and the other medics can help.

Bonded Pairs: Apothecary pt 2

CW: Depression/self-hatred, mentions of past abuse/torture

Language guide: Gothic Battle Sign

More thanks to @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for the use of Zariel, I hope I did your boy justice with some difficult patients.

Both marines heard the heavy steps on the stairs to the basement. A voice called out to them from around the corner. “Ultramarine Apothecary Zariel, I was told there were a couple of brothers in need of care here?” As he rounded the corner the apothecary could see one of the marines curled up in a corner under a heavy knit blanket. The other was…ah, on top of the fridge, reddish eyes and bared fangs glaring down at him.

Asariel watched the apothecary’s entrance carefully, waiting for him to fully enter the door before signing to him, not shifting out of a wary crouch on top of the fridge.

Why are you here? And where is here?

The blood angel was in enough control to communicate rather than attack at least. You are on Terra, but in a different time. What year is it the last you knew?

Not sure. Been in the warp a few centuries. Not nearly long as my beloved has been though. Early M42 last I knew. This is Terra you say?

Terra in M3.

Asariel tilted his head for a long moment, considering all this information, still poised to attack.

My brother. Can you help him?

I will try. Another moment of consideration, then Asariel jumped from the fridge to land next to his companion, tapping a message rapidly onto the blind ultramarine’s shoulder. Gerhardt was shivering despite the blanket but tapped something in response, leaning back against his companion’s chest. His breathing was shallow and labored as Zariel moved closer.

An ultramarine apothecary, of all the things to find. You shouldn’t be wasting your time with me.

That’s my job, to patch brothers up. Zariel was getting close enough to listen to Gerhardt’s vital signs. He heard the sounds of twin hearts beating rapidly, and a single lung working to bring oxygen in. What happened to your lungs? I can only hear one of the three. For the moment he opted to ignore the implications of Gerhardt’s statement, other than to mentally file a note to recommend a chaplain.

Gerhardt made a noise that could almost have been a laugh but came out more like a sob. Removed to make me less dangerous. Along with several other things. One hand touched the blindfold covering his eyes thoughtfully. The owner of this place. Can you tell me what they look like? Asairel thinks I’m being foolish. Asariel shot a grouchy look over his brother’s shoulder at that remark, wrapping his arms around Gerhardt’s shoulders protectively. Gerhardt leaned back with a slight smile, nestling his shoulder in the opening of Asariel’s robe. Something about the shape of the robe looked wrong to Zariel - he would need to examine the blood angel as well of course.

They’re young, with long red hair and dark green eyes. When I came here they were wearing a grey t-shirt and black jeans and some kind of striped jacket. And sensible boots. Was the ultramarine bonded to this human? Zariel almost hoped so, since it would make his recovery and adjustment so much easier. Especially with a human who was already used to astartes.

They sound delightful. I wish I’d had a chance to know them back when I was useful. They worry too much; they need someone they don’t have to worry about.

Ok so “making recovery easier” might be relative here. I need to take a look at your chest. May I shift the blanket off? Gerhardt nodded at Zariel’s request, even as Asariel looked ready to pounce. Under the blanket he was shaking despite a heating pad and the relative warmth of the basement. Zariel reached out a hand to check on muscle tone and felt Gerhardt tense and try not to flinch.

Asatartes-grade painkillers. He’s in withdrawal. The blood angel signed over his brother’s head. Zariel signed back an acknowledgment. Addiction was more difficult in Astartes, but it wasn’t impossible.

If he’s in withdrawal, and with this much damage, he really needs to be in a clinic where he can be monitored.

Gerhardt pulled the blanket back over himself. No clinic. Not worth it anyway. The blood angel pulled him in closer to his chest, before signing back Will it help him?

He’s stable for the moment, but he needs to be somewhere where someone can keep a closer eye on him. And perhaps also find more answers as to what the hell had happened to these two, but Zariel wasn’t going to say that out loud. I’ll go see what the transportation options available are.

[onheelys]

Yen! My bg3 character

[vertexline]

DURGE ZARIEL DURGE ZARIEL DURGE ZARIEL DURGE ZARIEL DURGE ZARIEL DURGE ZARIEL DURGE ZARIEL DURGE ZARIEL DURGE ZARIEL DURGE ZARIEL DURGE ZARIEL DURGE ZARIEL

[grovekeepers]

🌙 ROBIN | ZARIEL TIEFLING | CIRCLE OF THE MOON

O hunter, snare me his shadow O nightingale, catch me his strain Else moonstruck with music and madness I track him in vain

[c-u-c-koo-4-40k]

What do I Know About You? - Part 2

Its finally Heeeeeere! This was another Awesome collaboration with @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan who not only lent characters but also cowrote thic massive chunk of words back and forth with me! Also this one is Long so bring a Lunch!

Summary: Lullaby and Khopesh Finally get to have their first date, and things don't go quite as planned. Was there even a plan? No aside from a deeply uncomfortable talk about trauma and expectations. Meanwhile the others back at base scramble to understand the strange Zap and the odd recognition Anrir felt upon seeing Lullaby. Many things stand in their way; fear, uncertainty and worst of all...Paperwork!

Tags: @kit-williams (who let me use Anrir and Ghosk though his presenceis only implied!) @sleepyfan-blog @bleedingichorhearts @passionofthesith @egrets-not-regrets @bispecsual

Warnings: Negative self talk, fear and prejudice speak towards Nightlords and psychers, talk of stress induced self harm (scratching and skin picking), and public PDA

First Fic/Prequel to this series click Here:

Directly previous fic can be found here:

Next one: Coming hopefully soon.

Enjoy!

“Uh- Anrir something… Strange happened,” Claude shuffles over to where Anrir is and explains. “... I wasn’t accessing my powers, I - I wouldn’t hurt someone accidentally, or on purpose, without just cause. I just shook Lullaby’s hand- I… I…I don’t know what that was about.”

He looks down at his hands, unable to look Anrir in the face. Cursed. Having warp powers means one is cursed. Who in the name of the God Emperor ever desired such things is an imbecile. Warp powers are a curse, to the person who has them and those around them.

Anrir's face remained calm- but his eyes were a storm of emotion at hearing the confused, stuttered explanation from Claude. His initial emotion is panic, as Anrir recalls that Claude is unbonded and that means he could take actions against Humans easily. Then he remembers how soft his son could be- and watches how worried and upset the youngster is. Claude hadn't wanted to hurt the human, or intended to do so.

Anrir starts to comfort Claude- he doesn’t fully understand psykers, or their abilities, but he does know that Claude ever strives to control his abilities and really doesn’t like it when that control slips. Especially if he accidentally hurts others as a consequence, because the training that he and the other boys received on Mars hadn’t … well. It had certainly been effective in some ways, and also had a lot of unintended side effects too. Those mechanical bastards.

Claude is really grateful that Anrir is here, trying to calm him down, Karlsor had not been great at that- mostly swearing at him and scolding him, as well as asking demanding questions, that he really didn’t have answers for, and accusing him of doing a Zap on purpose, which he hadn’t done so. 

“Walk me through what happened, step by step,” Anrir asks as he gently pats one of Claude’s shoulders soothingly.

Claude nods and verbally goes over the entire interaction, as well as what he’d been thinking, feeling, and other sensory outputs as well. He looks at one of his slightly shaking hands and once he’s gone through the whole interaction again, he’s a lot calmer, a slightly thoughtful look crosses his face.

“When I was younger… and back on Mars,” Claude says slowly, now that he’s thinking and not panicking, “The times where I would accidentally zap others like that- was if… was if I wasn’t aware they were fellow Psykers and my powers would just kinda… poke at theirs? But- I didn’t think Ancient Terra had native psykers so soon?”

Anrir hums softly and thinks, "They might not be awake. Their powers could be there but they might not be fully active... the Sorcerers have theorized that why the Warp is so weak might be linked to the Eye of Terror... since it's not here in the current time." His fingers soothingly move through Claude's hair. "Which means that only extraordinarily strong psykers can manifest much of anything during this current time which is probably why it's hard for you and you probably can only do it because of your training. Again those are just theories."

“Oh,” Claude says quietly, “... So they have the potential for it then. Like… like ice that has flowing water underneath it?”

“Interesting euphemism,” Anrir muses, “I’ll have to check with some of the Sorcerers, but I think that’s an accurate description.”

Jophiel and Cedric are moving with purpose- but not trying to be super fast as they get to Claude’s side. The Blood Angel is trying not to fluff his wings aggressively at Karlsor or Anrir.  Jophiel gently grabs one of Claude’s arms- the one with the hand that had touched Lullaby.

“Claude- there you are!” Jophiel trills at his brother-cousin, sounding as normal as possible.

Jophiel can be rather tactile- it’s something that Claude knows well. But the way that Jophiel is squeezing his arm, something bugging his younger brother-cousin. Claude’s gaze snaps to Jophiel’s as his gaze sweeps over his younger brother-cousin and notices that Jophiel is Spooked by something. “Did you need something Jophie?”

“... Yes, Ced and I want to talk to Claude. Privately and alone.” Jophiel says cheerfully. His eyes slide over to the First Born and Terran Born Space Marines, lightly trying to tug Claude away from them.

His smile is a tad too toothsome to be polite, and the red is bleeding into his eyes more. Usually Jophie doesn’t get too aggressive so quickly. Just what could be bothering him. “Uh- sure Jophie.”

Before Claude could move towards his brother, Karlsor speaks up with his own growl. One of his hands twitching a little- he usually wasn’t bothered by the feathery little shit head- but the little bastard is hiding something. Karlsor can tell.  

“You can fuckin’ talk with us nearby,” Karlsor points out, with a not quite snarl- noticing the twitchy way that Jophiel was moving. Also teeth. That’s a lot of shiny sharp chompers the brat has. “And it ain’t nice to threaten others, we wanna help.”

Jophiel narrows his eyes a little at Karlsor, “... I want to talk to Claude first.”

Claude had told the other Primaris Marines about that one First Born Raven Guard Captain and his flock of brothers- the ones from M42 who had known what the Captain was doing to him, but looked the other way. 

As well as how Karlsor, Anrir and the rest of the Claw reacted, and how they’d gotten him Justice for the shit-show that had been M42. It has helped his brothers start to trust at least some specific First Born Brothers a bit more. Still- old habits, and Jophiel wants to check over Claude to ensure that he’s not… got spores on him.

"I must Insist your inquiry involve us." Anrir drawls, bringing himself to stand near both Claude and the still clearly upset blood angel. 

The younger blood angel's patience was clearly running thin. "With all due respect Apothecary Anrir, this has nothing to do with you. I would very much like to speak to my Brother regarding His Health..."

The air shifted, and Jophiel suddenly found his frustration turning to fear and a realization along the lines of 'Oh Shit those were the Wrong words to use.' Cedric twitches a little, if things weren’t so serious he would have face palmed or jabbed Jophi in the ribs, the last sentence one should say around an older apothecary is ‘concerns about health’. 

The aura now radiating from the Terran Nightlord was full of pressure. He spoke with firm words that would seem unbothered lest you could sense the venom lurking just beneath them. 

"With All Due Respect...I consider Claude my Son, so If you know something is affecting His Health, Which would Also be My Business as I am an Apothecary, I must Insist," Anrir hissed causing Jophiel to shrink back further. "You inform me This Instant."

Jophiel glanced at Cedric who seemed equally unsure what to do. Then to Claude, who glanced at Anrir.

When Claude turned back to Jophiel, he nodded. "Anrir helped me before, he might know how to help now."

Jophiel deflated a bit, but...if Claude was okay with it, Fine. The Blood Angel squared his shoulders to attention. "Very well but...not here…" Jophiel bargained. "We need somewhere more private, and...I want to look over Claude with my psykery first...or at least while I explain what I've seen."

The glower Anrir had mustered up lessens, "That is reasonable, we can convene and converse in my Medbay office. Let us not delay."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cool of evening was beginning to settle in, though it was still fairly bright outside, as you and your 'date' walked the short distance to the Fire Drake Noodle House. 

You're fortunate when Anrir said it was close he meant by human standards, not Astarte ones. Only about five minutes with a single street crossing. 

"So...you've been to this place before?" You ask Khopesh. Who responded with a pleasant hum. 

"No but I have had takeout from there before. The Scallion Pancakes weren't what I expected but they were delicious." He explains as the two of you wait at the crosswalk. 

"Oh yeah I've tried those at other places! Wait...what do you mean they weren't what you were expecting?"

"Ah well…" Khopesh scratches his head kinda awkwardly. "It was just after I got bonded to Vada and Muti. I was still learning to speak and read the local language. I recognized Pancakes but not Scallions. So…I thought I was getting the sweet kind."

"Pfft!" You chuckled. "Yep, that sounds about right. But hey you still enjoyed them so that's good."

"Yes! My brothers got upset, but In my defense they were Very Good."

Ding! The little crosswalk man popped up and you two abided. 

"Wait, why did your brothers get upset?" You asked.

"Because they were technically a group appetizer and I stole and ate all of them, As well as the entree that had been purchased for me." Khoepsh replied cheekily.

"You did not!" You challenged with laughing disbelief. 

"Oh but I Did!" Khopesh declared. "And though I had to scrub the barrack floors for a Week straight, I regret Nothing!"

"Well, as long as you don't go stealing food off mine or other people's plates we'll be golden." You assure him. "Slight tangent but if you like scallion pancakes there's something else called Egg Foo Young. It's like a mix between an omelet and a pancake with meat and veggies and a gravy like sauce its Super Good-"

"Shit it's a Night Lord." You hear one of the other people hiss. "Uh let's just go the other way around…" The other person says nervously, tugging at their friend’s elbow.

You were broken from your explanation by two hushed but insistent voices. Turning around you saw two people walking quickly back the way you and Khopesh had just come, they must have exited the alley you just passed. 

"What was that about?" But before you could get even a rhetorical answer a different couple had exited a shop a little ways ahead. 

They took one glance towards the two of you before quickly diverting the path and jay walking across the street.

You stood for a moment after they'd walked off. The words came out almost without thinking. "Well...that was Rude."

Khopesh seemed surprised, "What do you mean?"

You gestured after the people that had left. "Them! They don't even know you and they just…" 

Khopesh smiled incredulously. "Lullaby are you...offended?"

You were taken aback by his nonchalance …"Aren't you?" 

He deserved so much better than to be treated like that. A thought comes to your mind that hisses out viciously, ‘He deserved so much better than you.’

"Lullaby," Khopesh cooed, now seeming touched. "I have been called Far Worse things in my time, mostly by Karlsor." He amended. "But yoooou." He brought his big pale hands up and...squished your cheeks! "You are so Cute! Getting mad on my behalf!" He chortled, rubbing and sqwoosing and lifting you Just slightly so your bodies were flush against each other. 

Okay...you actually didn't mind this...odd as it was. But you were in public. But before you could voice that you realized Khopesh was practically nose to Nose with you. "Makes me want to...Eat you up…" He growled with a sultry edge.

Staring into his dark eyes, your cheeks and face ignited, further contrasting your heated skin against his cool. 

You Really didn't mind this. But in the back of your mind you felt the alarm bells. Public, still in public and- 

"And never let you go..."

(!) There it was. Also you realized you were getting stretched a bit more on tip toe now. 

"Too much, down please." You state quickly. 

"Oh!" Khopesh seems taken aback but he releases you regardless. "My apologies, Lullaby, it seems I became too eager again." He chuckled bringing up a hand to gently rest on your cheek. "You're just so Cuuute."

You huff and can’t help but smile as you say teasingly, “You are right eager.”

‘Eager to keep you, or eager to break you,’ Your thoughts hiss at you again. You weren't certain. And that uncertainty starts to gnaw at you.

‘Talk, you Need to have A Talk.’ You think to yourself firmly. ‘And you will!! Just...dinner first. Get some food on his stomach so he's in a better mood.’ 

That horrible voice in your head hisses out at you, warningly, ‘Have you ever really Seen him in a bad mood. Do you want to find out what that looks like?’

"S'all right, learning curve and all that." You reassure him, and you continue walking. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Alright," Jophiel relaxed both his mind and body and let his warp sight dim. "I don't see anything strange on your soul Claude. You can stand up now."

He leans against the table, that was exhausting. And used far more power than it should have. But it was necessary to do so. He had to make sure that Claude was okay, and barring that, if he was not okay, that he could see what was wrong and fix it, or find someone who could.

"Ah thank you," Claude replied, hopping down from the medical table. Cedric hands him a hydration ration and a ration pack to help Jophiel replenish his energy a little bit.

Cedric, Karlsor and Anrir were gathered in the same room watching as Jophiel conducted his examination. Anrir was the first to speak. Karlsor has his arms crossed over his chest as he tries to figure out what sort of psy-exam the Blood Angel Scout-ling was doing. The younger Psyker was clearly looking for something.

"You've done your examination, now talk. Explain Why you thought something might be amiss with Claude." The Terran Night Lord commanded with no room for exception. "Spare no details, leave nothing out."

Jophiel turned and stood at attention. If he was to reveal this he would do so properly. "Yes sir, I was called by Cedric after the zap occurred. He believed as I do now that the exchange of energy was Not merely a static shock, but wanted me to surreptitiously examine the mortal to make sure."

"And?" Anrir prompted.

Now Jophiel became a bit more uncomfortable, but he pressed on. "The Human, Lullaby, has the spark of psykery. But it is...strange. It seems to originate from something that looks like a bond...but isn't."

"But Lullaby isn't bonded to Khopesh...are they bonded to someone else? And are you Certain they're a latent psyker?" Claude asks now Exceptionally curious, and the latter part of the question sounding a bit morbid. 

Claude's own powers had been Hellish to learn how to control, between the grueling training and the abuse he suffered... he didn't like the thought of a mere human having to go through even Half of that.

"Of that I have no doubt. It is the spark." Jophiel fidgeted a bit, thinking over his next words. "But...rather than manifesting as a plume of warp energy in their soul, or an aura around it...it appears to be originating from a...a mutated bond."

Anrir listened with rapt attention. "Mutated How?"

"It's...Wrong," Jophiel filled in. "From what I've always heard and seen...Bonds are supposed to resemble plants aren't they?"

Anrir nodded. "Yes, that is true. According to the librarians I have consulted, All bonds I have examined in my research have taken on the visuals of plant life. The strength and life span of the bond is displayed by the health of the vines, and usually the presence of flora. The type of which varies depending on the…relationship dynamics."

Anrir felt a slight annoying itch, like the thorns on his own bond were digging into him. He didn't like recalling their existence. His vines were Healthy and beautiful with blossoming roses that Bound his Draga to him Tightly. Just as he liked it, every rose has its thorns so it is Natural.

At least that's what Anrir tells himself. But back on topic. 

"Ahem, also, broken bonds take on a withered appearance until they desiccate back into nothing, or a new bond brings them back to life. So what makes you say this bond is mutated?" Anrir prompted. 

"Well for one, Lullaby isn't currently bonded to Anyone correct?" Jophiel reasoned, they were involved with a Nightlord with a separate platonic bond; if they had a bonded Astarte companion of their own, why would they be giving Khopesh that kind of attention? "They shouldn't even have one, that Alone makes it an outlier." Jophiel stated. "And even if it was a withering broken bond That would resemble dried out, dying foliage, That Thing," Jophiel shuddered. "Is Very Much Alive." 

"It...it was pulsing and glowing and spiraling out like a mycelium network! Some of its tendrils started moving over my Hand!" Jophiel rubbed the hand that had been touched like he wished he could scrub away the memory. "I could Feel it siphoning away my powers! It is Wrong and it is Dangerous!" Jophiel hissed, composure breaking and wings fluffing up. 

He rubs his hands against his legs, trying to get that prickling feeling that itched and scratched some of the skin off his shaken hand with the other one subconsciously as his claws extended and Cedric smacked his shoulder to keep him from making a mess of himself.

Cedric stepped in quickly. "Easy Jophie, it's okay. That Thing can't hurt you here." He said softly, giving his brother a calming presence to ground him. 

Jophiel leans into Cedric, closes his eyes for a moment, stopping himself from spiraling for a moment. Claude lightly puts a hand on his brother-cousin’s arm. Trying to help ground him as well.

Anrir watched the exchange but his mind was Racing. "Possibly the First recorded psyker of the Baseline human populace…" He mused.

Karlsor meanwhile Knew that look. Anrir was going to be in his own head for a bit Fucking Greaaat. Karlsor rubs his face- this is some really big fucking news. And they would need to keep a tight lid on this. This could spiral out of control very fast if it’s not handled properly.

"And an entirely new subset of warp bonds...incredible...fascinating…" Anrir muses out loud

"It is Not fascinating! It is Horrifying! And it carries the shadow of Decay!" Jophiel shot back with a hiss, his wings raised and flaring in his upset.. 

"Decay?" That seemed to wake Anrir up. 

"Yes! Decay! That was what tipped me off that it looked like a Mycelium. I couldn't remember the word for it until I focused on the feeling of decay and remembered seeing a diagram in one of Apothecary Hura's biology books!" Jophile huffed, though he was starting to calm down with both Claude and Cedric comforting him. He wraps his wings around both of his brothers, shielding and half hiding them from view of the two Night Lords as he calms down. The red in his eyes is starting to fade away.

Now Karlsor noted the look on Anrir's face was much more grim. "Penny for your fuckin thoughts?"

"I believe I need to speak to Apothecary Hura." Anrir stated, turning to leave his office. "The rest of you should finish whatever duties you have left, and retire for the evening. Claude,"

“Oh fuck.” Karlsor growls, “What did that fucker do now?”

"Yes Fa- Ah Anrir." Claude asked. 

Anrir smiled wryly at the near slip. "I will send you some currency, this day has been surprisingly taxing for you and your brothers." He said, turning back to the three Primaris, "Get something nice for yourselves from a restaurant of your choice. My treat."

Jophiel and Cedric seemed legitimately surprised by the offer, given the...slight disrespect from earlier. "Ah...thank you Sir."

"Thank you Apothecary Anrir." Jophiel says politely.

"And, for the sake of not causing any Uproar, let us keep this conversation Private." The cold pitiless dread came back into Anrir's voice for a brief moment. The Primaris understood the unspoken threat. 

"Yes Sir!" Jophiel says with a nod, nascent psykers, especially baseline humans faced a lot of fear and scrutiny from the people around them who don't have those powers, or understand it.

 "Understood!" Cedric said with a nod- this was confidential patient information, and unless he had no other choice, no whisper of this would come from him willingly.

"Of course Anrir!" Claude says with a sharp nod, he's great at secret keeping.

Anrir nodded, and made his way out of the room. He needed to have a little...chat with Hura about his Long Term patient. Karlsor follows after Anrir, half curious, half dreading what the flying fuck was going to happen, what information they might fish out of the Death Guard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Khopesh arrive at the Fire Drake Noodle House, and you can't help but Marvel at the gorgeous space; emblazoned with warm reds, dark greens and shining golds. Banners display dragons and with the light fixtures having Actual Flames and the many metal worked items adorning the walls the whole atmosphere reminds you of a warmly lit forge. 

It’s such a wonderful place, you breathe in the smells of the restaurant through your nose. It smells so good.

The atmosphere inside also feels just as warm and vital as the decor...but that also means you might have to wait for a table.

"It's so pre-tty~" You fawn, utterly taken in by the environment. 

"Hmm...the lighting is a bit much...but the temperature is pleasant." Khopesh surmised, squinting his eyes a bit.

You were confused, till you remembered, "Oh right, your eyes are dark adapted...it's not too much right?"

Khopesh smiled. "You are too much," He pinched your cheek causing you to let out a painless "-Hm!". He was far more gentle than the squooshing earlier. "Your concern for me is endearing, but I have fought my way through battlefields and entire worlds where the blaze of war and the hellfire of artillery were literally Blinding. This Is Nothing, compared to that, and I will be fiiine." He assured you.

FWOOSH! A pillar of fire suddenly burst up in the kitchen with a sizzle, clearly an intentional part of the cooking. But you saw Khopesh flinch and squint even more as his eyes reacted to the sound by locking onto its bright hot source. 

Yeah, not fine. "...We're getting a booth in the back in the corner in the dark." You say simply. 

"But then we may have to wait longer." Khopesh groaned. "And aren't you hungry?"

"Yes, but this isn't Just for me, it's for both of us." You explain. "I want my partner to be comfortable while we're sharing a meal."

Khopesh seemed to take a pause. "Partner?"

You swallowed, "Y-yeah, you're my partner. At least...that's what I'd like us to be…" You explain. 

Khopesh doesn't respond, but he also doesn't seem...offended?? At least you hope not, he just seems to not quite understand.

"We can talk about it more once we've eaten." You finally say. 

Khopesh's smile curves back up, still a bit unsure looking. "That sounds ominous, Lullaby."

You shrug. "You wanted me to be honest, so I'm going to be." You declare. "But After food, cause no way am I doing something as exhausting as being Honest on an empty stomach."

"Pfft! Ha! You make it sound like Such a burden!" Khopesh chortled. 

"Is the Truth not a burden?" You reply dryly. "Ruminate on that while I talk to the host, also I've gotta use the restroom. If they call for the table before I get back go ahead and sit down okay? I'll find you."

"Of course my Lullaby, whatever you say~" Khopesh replied, it amused him when you got all chatty, and planned and laid out clear, obvious instructions. Honestly, were you able to become an aspirant you'd probably make a good Ultramarine. 

But you'd be Far more pleasant to interact with than one of those paperwork pushing, goody goody blueberries. Well maybe that's not completely fair, Khopesh had known...at least a Few Ultramarines that weren't...completely a drag to be around. 

He could only count those on one hand but Hey! They still counted. 

"Table for two please." You say as you approach the host stand, behind which stands a giant Salamander in a professional looking dark green outfit, with pale but textured hair tied back into a fashionable style. Also the marine in question looks...familiar.

The Salamander smiles in greeting. "It will be about fifteen minutes, I also heard you and your companion discussing your preference for a darker table setup. We can dim or fully extinguish any sconces once a table opens up should you so choose."

You were a bit taken aback by your whole convo being overheard. You were being too Loud again why are you Always so Lo- But you squashed that thought quickly, Astartes have excellent hearing even in a busy humming restaurant. This Host probably even tried to focus on chatter from incoming guests so he could get ahead of their accommodations. 

Clever and proactive of...Pyrus, as his name tag read. 

"Thank you, and yes! We would like that if possible…Go ahead and put the table under Khopesh please." You surmise, you wouldn't be able to hear it in the bathroom, speaking of which. "Ah by the way...could you tell me where I can find the restrooms?"

Pyrus nodded. "Ah yes, simply walk back from here to the left corner of the restaurant. Hallway alongside the patio, you can't miss it."

You give a quick nod, "Okay thanks." And hustle past to follow the instructions given. 

Meanwhile, Kerubiel had been sent by the rest of the Primaris marines as the one who had drawn the short straw and had to pick up the ‘not ration food order’ and it was from the Fire Drake Noodle House. Claude, Cedric and Jophiel had come back from going to the Chaos Base with pensive looks and thoughtful expressions.

When questioned all they would say is that they’d met someone new, who’d seemed nice. Other than that, they wouldn’t say much. Kerubiel knows that they are keeping something from him and the others.

But the rest of the Primaris Marines had allowed themselves to get distracted by food- and Kerubiel was curious about what sort of food this Fire Drake Noodle House place has, and begrudgingly looked over the menu and picked out some things to eat.

As he walks in, his gaze snaps to the First Born Night Lord sitting in the waiting area. His hands clench and unclench as he stalks over to the Chaos Traitor Bastard and glowers at him. Even if his new pride is keeping secrets from him. He can at least learn something.

“Night Lords don't usually travel Alone. Where is the rest of your godless heathen Claw of Bastards?” His curiosity gets a hold of him as he goes over to the First Born Space Marine. 

Khopesh is a little taken off guard by the sudden interrogation by the Dark Angel- he’s a big fucker. But he realizes- as he looks the rude bastard over, that he’s young- looks around the age of Claude and the other Primaris Marines. 

He’s also similarly sized, so he drawls out with a smirk on his face, “Back at base, which is where you should be...isn't it past your curfew little lion Cub?”

“I’m here getting an order,” Kerubiel says with a scowl, “I don’t have a curfew and I’m not a cub! Why are You here?"

Khopesh could see the little kitty was fishing for information. Dark Angels, over one hundred centuries and some things never Change. But fine...he'll play along.

"I'm sharing a meal with my precious Lullaby." Khopesh responded smugly. He let the follow up go unsaid. You know...because someone actually Wanted his company. 

Kerubiel could tell based on context (and logic I mean what space marine would call another space marine Lullaby of all things??) The Night Lord was referring to a human. 

Was this human his bonded? He was unsure if the Night Lord would give that information willingly. No matter though, he could find that out for himself. 

Carefully, Kerubiel drew on his psykery. He had heard about Bonds and other such nonsense. He didn’t really understand it, none of them did. None of them are Bonded. The lack of information was bothering him a lot. Information is key to survival after all.

And like in practice he saw the bond, flourishing and floral (honestly it was kinda pretty-) No! Focus! The strain of using his powers is starting to make his vision waiver, just a little bit.

But...something was off. Kerubiel may not have been the most experienced with bonds or emotions...but he could tell the bond in front of him was completely Platonic. He’d seen a few bonds of different kinds, they had different color-feel-patterns to them.

And again...context and logic. Precious Lullaby Could be a platonic term of endearment but considering how Dopey eyed the Nightlord appeared when he said it that was Doubtful. 

Khopesh grimaced as the youngster continued to Stare at him. He had a feeling he knew what he was doing. He'd let Claude and Anrir study his bond many times. So even without active psykery of his own he Knew the feeling of being examined. 

And this entitled little Snot hadn't even asked permission. But he held himself in Check; didn't want to get tossed out on his ass for being a Night Lord who got in a squabble. "Are you done being an Invasive little shit or are you just going to keep Staring at me Cub?"

Kerubiel let go of his sight, Damn that still took a lot out of him. But he would Not, show weakness. "Why would a space marine lower themselves to break bread and consort with a human they aren't even bonded to?" 

Okay Now, he was going to beat the shit out of the little snot consequence be Damned. One of his hands twitches, as he longs to clock the brat in the face with his fist.

As Khopesh was contemplating the best method of springing up from this bench and Strangling the little bastard in a headlock, Kerubial let out one more jab. "And Why would any sane  human choose a Night Lord of all companions?"

"Because I Like His Company." A terse voice comes from behind the Primaris Dark Angel, causing both space marines to perk up. 

You stand there, arms crossed as the large Dark Green hooded Bastard turns so he can see you, and you now have an unblocked view of your Night Lord still sitting on the waiting bench, though clearly much more tense than you'd left him. 

Honestly you leave for the bathroom, you use said bathroom, you wash your hands and splash your face and Hype yourself up for the talk to come and What do you come back to?? Some large petty nosy space marine getting into Khopesh’s face and asking a bunch of rude ass questions. 

At first you thought they might just know each other, until you heard the other Space Marine essentially ask, “Why would a human want to be with the likes of you?”

"Fuck. You. That's why!" You continue hotly, spurred on by your indignation and putting yourself Between this bastard and Your Night Lord, "He's fuckin Great. And Because, I can choose for myself who I damn well Please to hang out with! And not you nor anyone else is gonna tell me otherwise!" You state hands on your hips as your voice gets louder as you defend Khopesh from this asshole.

Does he need defending? Probably not, could probably fold this guy like a cheap tea table, but is that gonna stop you from puffing up and getting Right into a much larger Space Marine's face? 

Well clearly not you're already doing it. You would be more scared, but you were defending someone else. Someone who you care for deeply, who doesn't deserve to be harassed simply for being in a public place.

"Now you can either trot your merry renfaire ass along or I Will be reporting to your superior officer how you are making a damn Fool of yourself and All said superiors because clearly whoever trained you didn't impart you Manners!" You continue to rant and point a finger at him.

Kerubiel scowls at Lullaby and Khopesh, and starts to growl low in his throat at their rudeness. But while he clenches his fist, he’s no Chaos or Renegade scumbag to hurt a Baseline unless attacked first. His eyes narrow as he glares down at them and back at Khopesh.

Who now has an absolute look of looming Murder on his face. Not at You no no No. Before the prickly little cat bastard had the shitting Gall to Growl at His Lullaby, he'd been surprised and even Exhilarated by you cussing out his aggressor in front of him. 

Defending a monster like him, as if you had even a Ghost of a chance against the Primaris. All puffed up like a bluffing Hen, but you were completely serious. And so was Khopesh about that brutal homicide that was rapidly approaching this Dark Angel if he Didn't- Stop-Threatening-His-Lullaby!

Pyrus comes over- having heard raised voices- moving faster once he hears Growling Dark Angel Noises and calls out to the squabbling group. "Khopesh party of two your table is ready." He announces, trying to diffuse the situation and organically move the two arguing members apart. "We have the sconces dimmed and everything is set, if you'll just follow my fellow host right over there."

You glanced over seeing another smartly dressed host, this time a human Baseline, waving you over. "Excellent, thank you So much for the accommodations." You say in your sweetest most polite voice, before turning back to Khopesh and holding out your hand. 

"Let's go have a nice meal now, and try to forget any...unpleasantness." You gave Kerubial a sharp side eye. The bastard even had the audacity to look insulted.

Khopesh is now in a Much better mood without that nasty bastard growling and prodding at him. He's also pleasantly surprised to see the Host take his side but he pushes that thought away for now, taking his Lullaby's offered hand. 

You smile, and settle into Khopesh's side, literally hanging off his arm. Are you doing it to be spiteful? Absolutely yes, one hundred percent. But just as much you are doing it to be affectionate. 

You even decide to really lay it on, indulging in tucking yourself close to your Night Lord and nuzzling him. Treating Khopesh to some well deserved (after that bullshit especially) tenderness, and showing that green hooded Prick how Happy you were in the company of said Nightlord. Khopesh responds by purring softly, and giving the green hood prick a smug look with full teeth.

As you two move to go to your table. Pyrus moves over and accidentally bumps into the Primaris Dark Angel that’s growling a little and turns to look at him with fire-bright eyes, “Please leave, if you are going to upset guests at this place.”

“I have an order I’m picking up!” Kerubiel protests.

“Who’s name is it under?” Pyrus asks hands on his hips as he gives a disappointed look to the other astarte. “What’s your name and Chapter?”

“Primaris Marine Kerubiel of the Dark Angels. M42.” Says, before Kerubiel grumpily gives Cedric’s name to answer the second question.

 “... Ah- you’re one of the newer arrivals.” Pyrus says, which explains, but doesn’t excuse his behavior. “I’m going to report to Captain Ash’val about this incident.”

“He’s not my Captain,” Kerbuiel says one of his lower lips stuck out a little bit as his eyebrows come down in a scowl.

Pyrus stares at him flatly, he hands him the order, “please leave, unless you want to deal with the Reason we decided to call it the Fire Drake Noodle House.”

Kerubiel is curious- but he doesn’t want to get into that much trouble after finishing up healing and being finally allowed to run around outside without supervision. Fucking- Thressl’s reaction would be annoying to deal with, the cackling laughter and ribbing would be annoying.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And for the love of all things Unholy Do Not scratch at the stitches." Hura scolded the newly arrived Space Wolf with the bright mane of red hair. "Unless, you want me to drag you back here and Actually put you in a cone for your impudence." 

"You wouldn't!" Thressel shot back, 

"I can and I Will." Hura assured him, snagging the willful pup by the ear. "I Might even have to shear off some of your precious red locks in order for it to fit properly. We wouldn't want that now, Riiiiiight?"

Thressel went pale, "Ack! Fine! FINE! I understand!" He snarled, barely tamping down on his instinct to Bite the hand disciplining him.

"Good," Hura cheerfully released the Pup and picked up the relevant paperwork. "Other than that your vitals seem good, your hearing is still slightly imbalanced but that may improve yet. Are their any other questions you have?"

"Nope, now let me Go ya Chaos bas-" Thressel caught himself before his big dumb mouth could land him in that dreaded cone. "I mean...I'm Fine, got no questions. And my brothers are waiting fer me."

Hura nodded, smart pup. "Any plans?" The apothecary asked as he wrote a few more notes. 

Thressel hmm'd for a moment. Cedric seemed to trust this Chaos traitor, at least with things related to healing. Sides, not like telling him would ruin their plans. "Says they ordered somethin’ called 'taik out.' Told me it was a special kind of Baseline food."

"I believe you mean Take Out." Hura corrected. "The food can be anything from any culture or style. Take out simply means the food is purchased and brought elsewhere."

Thressel huffed a laugh. "Whatever it is, I'm no one ta say no to a free meal. So can I go now?"

"Yes, pup, go run along."

The excited Space Wolf hopped eagerly off the medical table and ran for the door. No Way was he getting left with table scraps "-Oh!"

As Thressel was exiting he came face to face with a grim old face. Pale and dark eyed, a Nightlord…

"Watch where you're charging you clumsy Bitch!" Two Night Lords, the other one just behind the first snarled at him. 

“Oh Fuck off you gloomy bat!” Thressl growls at them, “I was here first!”

Hura comes over hearing the argument and ready to politely bully his cousins for being naughty if needed, “Ah- Karlsor, Anrir- come in- what’s the issue? Go- on now Thressl. Shoo.”

“Fine,” Thressl makes a face at all three First Born Chaos Space Marines but he does scuttle off to go where his brother-cousins are. 

While he’s curious to see what the Old Bastards are up to, he’d rather heal up a bit first and taste this ‘take out’ is and set Kerubiel on this fuckers, that is entertaining to watch. And the Primaris Dark Angel would tell them if he thought he had some information that he thought they needed to know.

Hura gestures for Karlsor and Anrir to join him in his office- he waits until Thressl’s superior hearing, even among the Astartes, is out of range and he turns to the two Night Lords, “What can I help you with?”

He looks them over, neither of them are injured, and Anrir is an excellent Apothecary, for patching himself and others up. He’s curious to see what it is that has the pair of Night Lords Seeking him out.

“I have some questions for you,” Anrir says, watching Hura sharply as he almost glares.

“What questions?” Hura asks.

“About the Baseline you recognized earlier, and how you and Xerxes helped them recover,” Anrir says, eyes darkening a little, “When you and Xerxes helped them … was there any… additional things that you or he did to them?”

“What do you mean by that?” Hura asks, arching an eyebrow at Anrir, having taken off his helmet to speak with them more freely.

“Did you fucking Chaos twist them?” Karlsor, says, rather not wanting to dance around something, “Cause if you fucking did- then we have a big fucking problem.”

Hura rears back as if he’d just been slapped, and insulted, “I did not, and nor did Xerxes do any ‘Chaos twisting’ on them. And what do you mean by that anyways?”

Karlsor heaves a sigh and then tells Hura what Jophiel had explained to him ending with a, “decay and mushrooms sounds an awful lot like your Grandfather’s grox-shite.”

Hura can’t stop the look on his face, “And you think I, or Xerxes can - what- affect bonds like that?” 

“Can you?” Anrir asks. 

“Or Can fucking Xerxes do it?” Karlsor asks, in a rather rude tone of voice. “And why the fuck didn’t you tell us you could do this?"

“As far as I am aware of,” Hura states honestly, “I cannot affect bonds like that, Nor has Anyone been able to so far, not the way that you are speaking of anyway. And I don’t think that Xerxes can either, if you want, I can call in my brother for you to question him on what exactly it was he did to help...save them.”

Karlsor glanced at Anrir, who had paused to think. "Time is of the essence, I do want to inter-," The old Terran Nightlord stopped himself, before he could commit a Dreadful faux paus in front of the Death Guard who was almost as old and deadly as him. "I mean...I would like your Brother Xerxes's personal recount of the events of course. But I doubt he can arrive here as quickly as we need."

Hura drummed his gauntleted fingers on his chin. "...Perhaps, there is another way...at least one that could hold the information you seek. Or rather Proof, that whatever is presently occurring with that Bond, it was Not apparent the last time my patient was here." Hura stopped his fingers and his gaze turned Deathly serious. 

"What I am about to tell and show you is Highly classified information. The event That poor child has been through sent ripples through the upper ranks, and it was immediately quelled so as not to spark panic or rebellion." Hura explained, motioning for the two Night Lords to follow him out of his office. 

They do so, and to their surprise the Apothecary leads them from the usual travel path hallways of the medbay to a generic looking door in a random room off to one side. Anrir had never truly taken notice of it, as it had the look and smell of an extra storage room. 

Hura pulls out a key card and presses it to the blank wall. A click is heard and the mystery door opens. 

As Hura shambles through and down, Anrir marvels, a disguised Stairwell, how clever. Anrir understood there were places in this base he'd never seen. Each legion had their own separate spaces so it made sense. 

But as a trusted Apothecary he was taken aback that he'd never seen or scarcely even been told about 

Down, down, down they go past more floors and doors but they only stop at the bottom of which resides another door, which Hura instead knocks on. Anrir recognizes the pattern and has to stifle a laugh. 

Shave and a haircut. Two bits.  

Again another click, and the door pops open to reveal a hallway not unlike the regular ones on the floor above. With again...more doors. 

"What the Fuck!?" Karlsor exclaims.

"Language!" Both elders hiss, causing the mouthy Nightlord to clam up.

"Fuck, sorry." Karlsor mutters. 

Hura ambles forward. "The information we seek is behind one of these." He gestures. 

"The fuck you mean...One of these?" Karlsor asks with confusion. 

"The Doors of course, little cousin." Hura cooes, with Karlsor growling lowly in response. "This...extension of the medbay was a collaborative effort between several legions and the high ranking officials within them."

"Ultramarine, Raven Guard and Even Alpha Legion contributed. Despite the primitive setup and materials it's quite...secure." Hura continued, glancing at each of the doors. 

"I'm assuming there's a catch?" Anrir posed. This all seemed too easy. 

Hura nodded smartly. "Astute observation. Yes you see every three months the records and data here are reshuffled with a tweaked or brand new sorting method." Hura explained. "There are also false or incorrect documents mixed in to further muddy things." Hura approached one of the doors. "And of course in lieu of dealing with data breaches...the Ultramarines thought it best if all These records were kept in…" Hura opened the door, revealing shelves upon shelves of folders. "Paper form."

Anrir balked at the mountain before him. Karlsor let out a plethora of swears and Neither apothecary bothered to correct him this time. 

"Fuck this! I'm keeping watch." Karlsor declared. 

Seems he had his work cut out for him. 

“Shall we begin, Anrir?” Hura says, giving the other Apothecary a smile as he starts reading and sorting through the documents.

Karlsor would rather be stuck staring at the fucking sun striped bare ass naked for hours. Then deal with oh four Paperwork. It's why He's never accepted a promotion as then he'd have to deal with the fucking Paperwork that came with such a thing. So, while he wants to know what is going on, he's not that Curious about it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Alright folks I'll get these drink orders for you, give you some time to look over our menu. Please enjoy, and I Do apologize for that...unexpected upset." The sweet waiter states as the two of you get settled into your comfortable darkened booth in the back in the corner in the dark. 

Well it's not in the corner but the dimming of the sconces directly above you Does reduce the brightness. 

Khopesh snorts, "Wasn't your fault the Lion Cub decided to get all hissy." He assured them. 

"Yeah, no, don't worry about it." You chime in. "We're certainly not gonna let it ruin our evening." 

"Good good. If you need anything else just flag me down and I'll take care of it." As they strode away you took another moment to breathe in the atmosphere. A bit of nostalgia tickled at your brain. 

"Reminds me of this Tiiiiny Italian place my PawPaw used to love going to." You say, making some light small talk, Khopesh seems confused for a moment till you elaborate, "With the dimmed lights I mean. It was always so dark, only place that had regular lighting was the bathroom. And the only lights I ever saw lit in the dining area were the candles on the tables."

Khopesh smiled. "That sounds perfect for a Nightlord, but inefficient for a Baseline restaurant."

"True...funny enough I-" You felt a slight twinge of a headache. "I...don't remember ever seeing any Astartes in there...but I don't think they weren't welcome per se…" You shook off the feeling before the pain could amplify. "Maybe it was just too small a venue."

"Perhaps," Khopesh acquiesced. "Also what was that dish you mentioned on the way here?" He hummed looking over his menu.

"Egg Foo Young," You stated, "Though even if it's not directly called that, they might still have something like it." You surmised. 

The menu, appropriate to the restaurant's name, showed a plethora of noodle dishes and soups. The lo mein seemed tempting, but your eyes also lit up upon seeing they had a Ramen section. 

The appetizers featured a number of your favorites. But you tempered yourself. "Got a lot of good looking items," You hummed. "Just don't want to spend too much on myself. Get whatever you like though okay? As long as it's not gold encrusted or costs the same as a car payment I'm fine to cover it."

"Pfft! You really think my tastes are That expensive?" Khopesh shot back before following up with. "Besides, Anrir transferred some funds to me for this, so You and I can Both get whatever we like." 

"Wait seriously?" Oh...the cellphone exchange while they were back at the base suddenly made sense. 

"Of course! He wants us to have a nice evening…" Khopesh assured, but he noted you looked...conflicted. "Is something wrong?"

You glanced up, seeing Khopesh's vaguely worried expression. "Uh...not really it's just…" Honest remember? Try to be Honest. You let out a soft sigh. "Hmm...I guess I just felt like...expensive or not, I wanted to treat You. Like don't get me wrong! I think Anrir is Super generous for doing that. I'll have to thank him later."

"I just...I know there's not a lot I can Give or do For You. If that makes sense.” You offered. 

Khopesh didn't seem to follow. “I'm afraid I don't quite understand.” 

“Well…I guess it feels like You give me a lot, attention, affection, you make me laugh, you comforted me when I had that bad dream. And for someone like you who's so much more capable, and physically stronger than I'll ever be and…" You trailed off, noticing how Khopesh was listening intently. 

In his focus and with the soft candle light flickering gently over his features, tracing an orange highlight into his dark eyes he looked…

"Why'd you stop?" He asks, breaking you from your trance. 

"S-sorry it's just...you look Really pretty in the candlelight."

Khopesh...did Not expect that. He felt like the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding in his three lungs flew from him silently with a simple but Slightly squeaky "-oh."

His Lullaby...thought he looked Pretty? Pretty? P-R-E-T-T-Y? In all the time he'd been alive he couldn't remember Ever being called that. Fierce? Commonly. Terrifying? All the time. And he knew baselines back in his time revered almost all Astartes with various shades of Fear and Awe. Some could and would even call the most frightening of their kind things like Ethereal.

But something as simple and kind as pretty? Never. The Nightlord felt his cheeks burn and he couldn't stop himself from grinning.

"How do you Do that?" He groaned playfully, placing his hands on his cheeks and his elbows on the table. 

"Do what?"

"Surprise me like that!" Khopesh exclaimed, moving his hands to the table before him. Looking almost like he was preparing for a lunge. "No matter what you do, or if I Think I know what you'll do, you always seem to catch me off guard somehow! It's so Frustrating." He growled but again, there didn't seem to be any real anger in it. Honestly, it came out more like a rough purr. "But I Love it. Which I don't understand, which just frustrates me More." He giggled, running his hands through his long hair. 

Well, you were hoping for honesty, and though it was a...strange thing to find enjoyment in. "I mean...I guess I'll take that as a compliment. But back on topic." You redirected the conversation. "I guess part of me feels a little disappointed I wasn't able to do something nice for you. I'm not mad or anything, and honestly I'm still glad I get to spend time with you."

Khopesh agreed, but something itched at his mind, like there was something he wanted to say in return or perhaps he could sense there was more You wanted to say, but didn't quite know how. 

So instead he'd take a moment to read your body language in the candlelight. 

Khopesh wasn't unaware of his own appearance, he knew his features could run the spectrum of ethereal to eldritch horror in the minds of baselines. He'd known enough Nightlords who, ahem, acquired personal serfs; promising safety and security through whispered sharpened teeth that the baselines shivered from with every possible mix of revulsion and desire.

He hadn't felt that Drive like some of his battle brothers, thus he didn't give much thought to Baseline standards of beauty. Not until coming here, and not until meeting You. 

And in the candlelight you looked so...wonderful. Reminding him of a place that was Warm and Safe, something even a creature as fierce as him had hardly known. 

He looks at your skin that's been kissed by the sun over your farm, and he remembers how you'd felt in his arms. Like his own personal sun, one that didn't burn his eyes or skin but filled him with a tender warmth all the same, as well as a burning hunger and want. The want to hold, to keep, to protect. Maybe that's why his battle brothers took their serfs?

Because bright, sweet things; things that bring laughter and joy and hope don't live long in this hellhole.

Without thinking he reaches a hand across the table, palm up. You glance up from your menu as you notice his gesture. 

You seem unsure for a moment, before smiling, and wordlessly placing your hand on his, instead of directly taking it, you begin drawing soft circles on the smooth skin of his palm with the pads of your fingers. Yet again, you've surprised him, and yet again, he doesn't mind at all. A moment passes before either of you speak. 

"There is something I need to talk to you about." You state, now running your warm small fingers over Khopesh's much larger ones. "But for now, let's enjoy the moment. Honesty can come after food. You ready to order?"

It is then Khopesh realizes he'd gotten utterly distracted and quickly picks up his menu with an "Oop!"

You chuckle. "Well we'll flag down our waiter for appetizers in a moment. I think I'll get some Roulette Dumplings for myself, and some Scallion Pancakes for you."

Khopesh smiled, and you could see him brimming with excitement. 

"But if you steal all the pancakes again I Will run out of this restaurant." You threaten cheekily. 

"You wouldn't!" Khopesh gasped with mock fear. 

"I would." You shoot back. Causing both of you to laugh. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It takes multiple Hours of Diligent review, but Hura and Anrir find the paperwork they'd been searching for.

The folder has a picture attached to the front, and indeed it appears to be Khopesh's Lullaby. Anrir thumbs through the reports page by page. 

It holds Lullaby's personal details, and the accounts and evidence collected from several space marines who were present at the time of the initial attack. Including several loyalist White Scars, the Death Guard Xerxes, and a Renegade Iron Warrior. 

Fascinating. An injury imparted to one Baseline spurred multiple factions into cooperation. Though he wasn't totally surprised, Lullaby seemed quite the sweet soul, and Astartes, however hardened they might be, seemed to have a soft spot in their programming for such things. 

At least...Anrir liked to believe most of them did. (That they were better than the slavish dogs of war they'd been bred for.) And indeed he felt his hands clench and his lip curl at the description he read. 

One of the Emperor's Golden Elite, a Custodes, committed this act. The Emperor who created them to be beacons and vanguards for humanity. It seems this Custodian had forgotten their place and purpose. 

He grimaced as he looked over the pictures taken, the painful looking bruises around Lullaby's neck as they laid in a hospital bed, about how the intervention of Xerxes with his...carrion wasps (Anrir suppressed a shudder.) had saved their life, and the months of painful rehabilitation they'd had to go through as was documented. Thinking back, he had an idea of the Hunt Khopesh was planning to ask for. And more importantly, his own overcrowded memory was coming back to him. 

"I know why I recognized them." He mutters under his breath. "They were in and out of the Loyalist clinic, I saw them in passing a handful of times."

"To think they had survived an encounter with a Custodes. They truly must be a lucky soul…" Anrir mused. 

Hura sighed. "I was brought in to help in their care and recovery, given my Expansive resume of experience." Hura laughed almost scornfully. "And I was Sworn to secrecy, the alliance didn't want to deal with the risk of hunting a custodes, nor the backlash they'd receive for Not calling a hunt on an attempted human killer."

"So they buried the whole damn business. Typical!" Karlsor remarked, peeking his head in. 

Anrir nodded, but that still left one thing unknown. "Not to dismiss your capabilities, but why only You for the overseeing apothecary?"

Hura smiled wryly. "Less bodies, means less lips to worry about sealing. Besides...if you check the dates I think you'll recall you were...out of town when the attack occurred?"

Anrir ran a quick swipe over his memories, true he often went on...business trips of different sorts. "Ah right." Indeed, at the time, he and his sons were taking a small trip to rectify the presence of a human trafficking den in a township nearby.

He'd found some excellent supplies in the process. Too bad he couldn't make the former owners of the place Really Beg for the mercy of the grave. 

Ah well, only so much time in a day. Anrir continued to read. The report further described the presence of a Normal Broken Bond as described by an Ultramarine librarian who examined Lullaby as they lay stable but unconscious after their trauma. 

And though not every visit, they also had their bond examined multiple times. The appearance was the same, snapped vines that were slowly desicating away. 

Perhaps Too slowly…

"Hura, what is the average time for a broken bond to wither away?"

Hura hummed thoughtfully. "Weaker bonds can resolve in a matter of days, for those of moderate strength and age, a few weeks. As for intense bonds…" Hura trailed off. 

Ah yes, one of the more...disturbing sides of this bizarre gift they'd all received. He recalled the first time he'd had Karlsor use his warp sight on a Space Marine who'd lost their intense bond, as the restrained War Hound thrashed and howled in agony. 

He couldn't see it himself, but he'll never forget seeing his son's face go even more pale. 

"It's fucking Strangling his soul." Karlsor swore. 

But back to the present. Intense bonds Could indeed stay longer, but they hadn't the chance to examine their appearance on humans. And without the Custodes present, there was no way of knowing if their side of the bond held those characteristics. 

But still, Anrir cleared his throat. "Well, it does appear my questions have been answered. There's no evidence you Or your Brother played a hand in this bond mutation. But now we must still ask "Why?"

"And what the heck do we do about it?" Karlsor piped up. 

Wait a minute. 

Anrir turned sharply to 'Karlsor'. "What...did you just say?"

'Karlsor' stood there for a moment. "I...ah...I said What the Fuckin heck do we do about it?" He stammered a bit. 

"Hey! You old fucks even halfway fucking done in there or do I need to plan on getting a new fucking bolt after we get the fuck outta here!?" A voice shouted from down the hall just past the door with the knock lock. 

Anrir bristled. "IMPOSTER!" He snarled, lunging and pinning the interloper to the nearest wall. Hura simply stood back, arms crossed and shaking his head. 

"You Really couldn't help yourself, could you?" He sighed, Anrir was confused, until the squirming Bastard wearing his son's face sighed and relented. 

Dark blue became teal, and the pale scarred face took on a more olive tone, with bright teal eyes. 

"Who are you? And if you even fucking Think about Saying Alpharius, I will start with your teeth and won't stop until I've plucked out Each and Every One of your bones!" Anrir snarled, before Hura put a tempering hand on his shoulder. 

"Relax Anrir, I know this one." Hura soothed. He turned to the Hydra and said very sternly, "Zariel…"

The Hydra sighed before acquiescing. "I saw your little family gathering and became curious myself. So I figured...what the hell? Might as well use the fact Alpha Legion helped design this space to my advantage." He shrugged. 

Anrir groaned, but did not release the pesky teal bastard. "How did you get past Karlsor?" He demanded. 

"I didn't, I figured Hura would bring you here eventually, so I got here ahead of you and decided to camp out in one of the other rooms after locating the file." Zariel shrugged. "Honestly, having a third person made it easier for me as I didn't have to worry about only approaching while the two of you were separated."

Karlsor sends Anrir a message [Oi- old man, you asleep in the hell that is paperwork?]

[I and Hura are still awake.] Anrir responds. [Just dealing with a sneaky Hydra.]

[Those fuckers!] Karlsor responds [Need back up?]

[Not yet, Hura and I have the situation handled for you.] Anrir responds.

[Let me know if you need some Psychic muscle Anrir.] Karlsor replies.

[Oh, I will.] Anrir responds.

Anrir focuses on the conversation between this ‘Zariel’ and Hura tilting his head and keeping the Hydra pinned against the wall. For now at least. One should always try to have the upper hand with the sneaky buggers.

“You should have said something or texted,” Hura says with a disappointed sigh and shakes his head. “You are lucky that I was here and that Anrir has yet to take more hostile, understandably so action with this grox shite that you pulled, Hydra.”

“Yes, but this way is more entertaining,” Zariel argues with a huff. Then he winces a little when Anrir pushes into him a little bit. “Could you let me up? I’m here to help. The Primaris Ducklings are also partially under my protection and care too.”

“Still, why are you here?” Hura asks Zariel as he strides closer to him.

Zariel shifts a little and huffs as he says that, “I couldn't help myself, we hydras love secrets and he's willing to share.”

“We who?” Hura asks, narrowing his eyes, “is your squad nearby?”

“They know where I am,” Zariel says, but they aren’t in these rooms, “So if you or Anrir, or someone else try to disappear me they’ll know who to go after and where.”

The file details many different things, more on the details of Lullaby's injuries and treatment. And that even at their last check up they were secretly looked at by a librarian. The bond was taking a While to wither, but it was withering!

Zariel points out, gesturing to one of the Librarian's latest reports, dated two weeks ago at a clinic in their hometown, “There is no sign of the decay Jophiel saw.”

“It’s… could it be a whole new bond type and … could Lullaby possibly be a nascent Psyker? Developing amidst the Baseline populace?” Hura muses.

“What a discovery!” Anrir proclaims as his eyes gleam brightly, fogging over with ideas of what this could mean. Anrir pauses as he thinks over the potential implications and says out loud, almost offhandedly, “ But...if the bond is altered...that could also mean. Ah. I wonder if Lullaby may not be able to form a permanent bond ever again.”

Zariel and Hura are quiet as they ponder those implications and Hura pipes up saying “Lullaby needs to be told. About their potential Psykery, and about the possibility of them not being able to permanently Bond with another.”

“I agree,” Zariel says, as he knows about the nature of various brothers and cousins and says warningly, “They're the patient and if they shock a less friendly space marine and that marine realizes what they are, they could be taken hostage.”

The trio of Space Marines look at each other at that. Some of their brothers and cousins could get highly reactive about certain things. And the reactions they could have were as diverse as the galaxy is.

“... I think telling Lullaby that they have an unviable bond, and that it is so unusual and mutated is… important, it could be affecting their health, be it physical, mental, emotional, psychically or in their soul, but we won’t know until we investigate more.” Hura says with a grim expression on his face.

“I will tell Khopesh he needs to bring them back to base,” Anrir says, “After their date is over to speak with them.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Hura says with a nod. “Don’t want to worry the younglings too much, but it’s important, too important to let it wait too long.”

The three of them are quiet, a somber heavy feeling curling around the three of them. Anrir slowly lets go of Zariel as they ponder what the next steps are to do. Zariel grabs the documents in Lullaby’s file and makes sure they are in proper order.

“Also, I was here to add in more of the falsified documentation and do more of the safety rotation and cipher changing,” Zariel tells them.

He’d gone into these archives for multiple reasons, some of them more legitimate and than others. While his fellow Hydra’s would understand because of curiosity and having a nose for Interview and how curious and strange certain reactions were, most others not of the lineage of the Hydra got terribly annoyed with that answer for some reason.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The waiter came back with a platter piled high with their appetizers and drink orders. He set down the plates of steaming hot food. The smell of it makes your mouth water and the way that it glistens in the low light just enhances the delight as your stomach rumbles as the appetizer plates are set down, and then the sharing plates. The dipping sauces and the drinks.

The waiter asks if they have decided on their dinner, or if they want him to come back in a bit. You've decided on the spicy ramen and tell the waiter as much. 

“Alright, I Must warn you though the highest spice level is more for Astartes, below that is what would be considered very hot for humans, then moderate, and then mild. Which level would you prefer?”

You thought it over. “I'll take it human moderate please.” You eventually settle on, handing the waiter your menu. 

“I’ll have it hot and spicy!” Khopesh says with a grin, “Astartes level hot!”

“... Khopesh,” You say, “are you sure you want to do that?”

“That sounds like a challenge Lullaby, and I don't back down from challenges!” Khopesh declared confidently, “Besides! You seem to like it so I'm sure I will as well.”

“Okay…if you're certain.” You reply with a shrug, deciding to grab and eat one of the Roulette dumplings, and a scallion pancake. 

You bit into the innocuous looking dumpling and hummed at the burst of spicy flavor. “Hm! Hot one on the first try!” You smiled, dipping the remainder in sauce and eating it. 

“Excuse me?” Khopesh asked, grabbing his own appetizers. 

“Oh that's what the Roulette Dumplings are, look.” You grabbed another dumpling and took a taste. A savory and sour flavor followed. “There are three flavors; spicy, sour and regular. It's a gamble what you get with every one you eat.”

Khopesh seemed legitimately intrigued, he picked up one and examined it, before tentatively popping it into his mouth. “Hm!”

That…that wasn't what he was expecting. It started out like a simple prick of sensation on his tongue, then it grew warmer spreading over his mouth, then it was Hot. It left his mouth tingling unpleasantly, even if the flavor was savory and good he-

“You doing alright over there?” You asked, noting the reddening of Khopesh's face.

The Night lord broke from his pain to shoot you a scowl, before he swallowed quickly so the burning morsel no longer sat on his tongue. It left an itchy staticky aftertaste falling down his throat. 

“Ulp! Fine, I am Fine.” He replied, rolling his mouth and tongue a bit as if trying to shake off the lingering taste. “See?? I can handle this Astarte Spice just fine!” He huffed, crossing his arms defiantly. 

“Khopesh, those were regular spicy.”

“-!” You saw him flinch. But before either of you could speak further…

“And here's two ramen bowls! One Moderate Spicy and the Other We have Salamander Spicy! Enjoy!” The waiter delivered your meal items cheerfully, and was gone almost as fast. 

Khopesh started down at the steaming bowl, and he could Feel the spice and the heat and the Hell that awaited his mouth. He felt it in every inhale. 

“Khopesh…you don't have to.” You started.

The Night lord turned his eyes sharply to you. “I will not be Cowed by a bowl of Soup and Noodles!” He declared, frustratedly picking up his utensils. “I Will enjoy it, just as you do.”

Fine! Just let him hurt himself. Fool won't fuckin listen anyway. You rolled your eyes. 

No…no, you're not gonna just stand by. 

“Khopesh…”

“Silence!” Khopesh snarled, focused on his bowl. “Do not try and stop m-”

Khopesh found himself cut off by a much smaller hand coming to grasp his own harshly. He looked up and what he saw Actually made him take notice.

You looked Pissed. Not unraveled but very much in line with; ‘Okay now the angry bitch is coming out’ as his Muti would say. 

“First of all,” You growled back with a convincing level of menace for your size. “Never, tell me to Silence, myself again. And if you even Think about laughing, I will walk out of here and leave your ass in a heartbeat. Do not play games, and Do Not talk down to me.”

Well he was somewhat at a loss for words. Seeing you like this Was kinda hot, good hot not hell hot, but also you might get more mad if he mentions that. 

Still holding his utensil hand hostage you pick up a spoon from your own side, gather some of your own broth, and hold it out to him. 

“Try mine first. Before you decide to hurt yourself to prove some dumbshit point for pride.” You insisted.

Khopesh looked at your spoon, and could smell the similar but Much less threatening aromas coming off it. He allowed you to feed him, halfway between confused and entranced. 

Until the spicy hit him even harder than the dumpling had and he reared back. “Mmp! Mmmmmuhhg Alck kkkkh!” In all his decades and battles and hardships (scrounging for rats and bugs in the gutters of Nostramo, looting and cooking corpses just to keep himself fed one more day-) he had Never been subject to a (not really flavor more like a) food sensation that repulsed him more. 

“See?” You prompted the Nightlord, who was now gulping down his drink to get rid of the bad pain hot sensation in his mouth. 

“By Curze that is Awful!” He gasped. 

You shrugged. “It's not for everyone. But then again hardly anything is.” You reply, taking a mouthful from your own soup. 

Khopesh slumped dejectedly, looking at his now cooler but still Evil bowl of hell soup. He couldn't eat this. 

“Let's go ahead and order something else.” You propose. “Something you'll like more.”

“But I wanted to eat the same thing as You.” Khopesh replied sullenly. He wanted it to be like you were sharing the same meal. Like he'd provided for both of you. “I couldn't do a proper game hunt on such short notice…I was hoping this could be similar. And that we could have more in common with the foods we like.” He explained when you looked confused. 

“ …Why? You know we don't have to be doing the exact same thing or Like the same exact things to enjoy eachothers company right?”

Khopesh glanced up, instead of frustration he saw…softness. “Khopesh. I like being here with you. Heck I'm still blown away someone as powerful and capable as you even Likes My company.”

Khopesh wanted to push you further on that point, but you continued before he could. 

“I enjoy our time together because we're different, not in spite of it. I love learning about all the little things that make you, You. And I love them just the same if they end up being the same as me, similar to me, or radically different to me.” You explain further, scratching the back of your neck as you felt the blush creep up it with the pseudo confession you'd just given. 

Well at least you weren't the only one. Khopesh had a vaguely surprised expression on his gaunt face, and a blush to boot. It was cute. 

“I guess what I mean to say is…I’m glad I get to spend time with you.” You state simply. “Although saying that, there is one thing…one conversation we Need to have before moving forward.” You place your utensils down and take a steadying breath. Now or never.

Khopesh leaned in. “I am listening.”

You nodded. “I've been thinking it over, and I Think I finally understand what my nightmares have been trying to tell me.”

Khopesh cocked an eyebrow. “You have the gift of prophecy??”

You shook your head. “Ah no. No. Not quite. Just self awareness.” You reply, then continue. “I had another Nightmare before coming here and…in that dream, you saved me from…a threat.” You chose your words very carefully, and subconsciously brushed your hand over your neck. 

Khopesh seemed agreeable to that. Yes of Course he would protect you from Anything. Can you protect them from yourself though? An nagging voice needled at him which he Firmly brushed aside. 

“But in the next part of the dream you ah…Reached Into my chest, and…ripped my heart out.” Well there wasn't any much Nicer a way to put it; Khopesh still looked horrified. 

“Are you saying you think I'd-” But you held up a hand to stop him. 

“Please, let me finish,” You pleaded, and though clearly dissatisfied Khopesh relented. “I…I adore you, Khopesh, I think I might even Love you.”

“But even though what happened to me before wasn't your fault, wasn't in anyway even Involved with you…It still left it's mark, mentally and physically.” More neck rubbing. You continued. “I think the dreams are telling me that what I fear most, is being hurt again. And the way I see it, there's two ways that could happen with you.”

“If there comes a time I can no longer surprise you…or excite you or even just…Amuse you…I’m afraid you'll throw me away…” You say quietly. 

“Or if there comes a day where, for whatever reason, I want to leave…that you won't let me.” You bring your eyes back to the Nightlord who is sitting stock still in front of you. 

His pale features are still lit with candlelight, still beautiful and haunting as ever. The rest of the noise in the background seems to fade away. 

“I Need to know…that if one day this ends. Whether it's you, or Me who decides to walk away. For whatever reason. That you'll let me.” You say solemnly. “I don't want to go down this road if I'll just end up where I was before. Broken and discarded because…because someone with strength and power over me that I could never hope to match, decides that my life and my being as a person isn't…isn't worthy to l-live.” You state, feeling yourself beginning to choke up. 

Not even worth a backwards glance. You weren't even worth a backwards glance. Unworthy to Live, Unworthy to Love! unworthy, Unworthy, UNWORTHY!

“Lullaby,” Now you felt a large cool hand reach for your own. The one that was scratching at you neck. You glance up to see Khopesh reaching over the table, his expression a mix of concerned and confused. “You're afraid.”

You couldn't help yourself, you leaned into the cool hand pressing to your face now and let out a giggle that was more sob than laughter. “T-that part is obvious.” You snort. “I just…” You gestured vaguely. “I want this to be a Choice for both of us, not an Obligation. I want us to both Choose to see where this goes. And if it doesn't work out then…we can both walk away safe. Can we…can we do that? Please?” You asked, more plaintive and less confident. 

Khopesh hesitated, of all things he did not expect…this. To see you so vulnerable, he had once before but this felt so much more Raw, since you'd chosen to show him this. 

Not to mention…the things you spoke of, he was entirely unfamiliar with. No serf would Ever dare bring these kinds of words to their Night lord…but…could he Really say your relationship had anything in common with the ones he'd seen in his own timeline? It was only then he realized he had so little to work off of. 

We could agree, a voice inside him purred, but not Truly. Pull them into our web so they can never leave. Make them believe it is their choice. They'll be so Happy to have all that dreadful stress off their shoulders. They'll never Actually want to leave. The voice sounds almost more like Anrir than himself, and while part of him is disturbed the other Desires. 

Another comes. What is even the Fucking point of this shit if there isn't Trust? You're a Night lord, we don't deal in honestly but we're not Fucking hypocrites either! That thought hurts and it's because it's true. 

Don't they deserve to feel safe? A softer thought chimes in. It's unusual but they seem to Really want this. What's the harm?

The harm is that if we allow this they could come to harm! A rougher voice shoots back. They belong safe in Our arms, why are we even entertaining-

“Khopesh?” The Nightlord is brought back to the present, and at once he is caught by your eyes. Pleading, unsure, fearful but most of all…

Hopeful. They are full of a Hope that Khopesh had long thought was beyond his kind seeing. Night lords did not inspire hope. The moment it was realized What the were, and Who they Were, all softness turned to fear and ice. 

But not you. You looked at him like he could be more than a monster...

Like he could make you feel safe, and loved

Like he could be… a hero…Your hero.

A clear voice comes next. His Vada You take good care of ‘em then.

Khopesh felt the coils of his muscles and the breath held in his lungs release. You still waited with baited breath. 

“I…” Fuck Curze dammit where does he Even start. “I was not…prepared for this I…I am…not sure what to say…” He lets out a low huff. He doesn't like being caught so out of his element.

He thinks back on your words. “I…adore the time I have had with you as well. And I won't lie, I Loathe, the thought of losing you…” He could feel a guttural snarl building up but he tamped it Down. 

“But if…having this promise between us would make you feel safe and…Happy…then I will…Agree…” He stated, still struggling a bit to get the words out, even having to close his eyes and grit his teeth as he did. 

Snff, hiccup He reopened his dark eyes to see you…crying?

Oh sweet hell what now- but before he could complete that thought you'd sprung up, come around the table and launch yourself into his arms with a cry of “Khoopeeeesh!” 

Khopesh let out a surprised “-ooF!” Though the impact wasn't anything he couldn't handle. “Lullaby what are you mMph!”

A little of that spicy bad sensation came back, but This time it was outside his mouth And it was because you were pressing your lips to his in a Firm kiss. The small flickers of displeasure from the spicy, and the feeling of unease from the strange new arrangement he'd just agreed to…all faded to a near imperceptible hum as he found himself utterly melting into your kiss. 

“Mwah,” You pulled back, but still gripped him to you, or yourself to him. Feeling again like a miniature sun, sharing your warmth with eagerness and snuggling up to and kissing him all over his face with gusto. 

“Ah so…are you, Pleased- with my phrasing?” He asked tentatively, okay now he was Really liking this. 

“Yes! You Dork!” You laughed, tilting your forehead so it rested against his. You stayed like that for a moment, just enjoying the physical touch. “That is Exactly what I needed to hear.”

Khopesh felt his chest swell with warmth. Okay…he could do this. 

“Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr,” You felt the Nightlord you were still embracing start to vibrate with purrs. 

“Ah…you folks doing okay?”

(!) Both of you jolted at the awkward interjection by your waiter. Really wishing you'd gotten a table fully in the back corner at this point. (It was still further back and most people were still engrossed in their own food and conversations so…)

“Ah sorry!” You scrambled to pull yourself into a more dignified position, now realizing you'd been essentially kneeling on the space of the booth that Khopesh wasn't occupying, and latching onto him like a lamprey. 

“Lullaby…” You looked up to see Khopesh looked disappointed? Pouty he straight up looked pouty that you were trying to move. 

You let your embarrassment pass, and your heart melted all over again. “Here, let's do this.” You slotted yourself in so you were both sitting, right up next to your Nightlord, just like when you'd walked over. Khopesh smiled and wrapped his arm around you, nuzzling the top of your head. 

You turned back to the waiter. “We'll need a takeout box for this, and My partner,” You say the word full of new pride and confidence. “Would prefer something else.” You explain, gesturing to the hell ramen. 

The waiter smiled, still a little awkwardly but nodded. “Ah of course, I'll get right on that.” They also took a new order for Khopesh, who decided on the Egg Foo Young. 

“Wait…I thought you didn't want to eat something this spicy?” Khopesh asked as the waiter walked off. 

You shrugged. “One bite probably won't kill me. Besides, if I can't eat it I'll just let it spoil, then Xerxes can eat it. So either way, it won't be wasted.”

Khopesh smiled, and you returned to you less…emotionally taxing conversations. Now snuggled up close, with the stress and the fear and the awful voices dim in your mind. 

As you waited for Khopesh's proper order. You both nibbled on the Scallion pancakes and the Roulette dumplings; you consuming the spicy and passing the other ones to him. He actually quite enjoyed the sour variety. Even if his description of them was slightly…disturbing.

“The sour tinge reminds me of cooked rotten flesh, but without any actual rot.” 

How were you supposed to respond to that?? “Well…glad to hear a restaurant's food doesn't have any rot in it. What would the health department say?” You reply jokingly, which causes Khopesh to laugh. 

As Khopesh's proper food order was dropped off and you both resumed eating your entrees, you both heard a familiar Ping. Khopesh reacted to the sudden sound by glancing at his vox. 

[Khopesh, return to base as soon as you are able, and bring Lullaby. It is important.] The message is from Anrir, and it makes Khopesh feel both curiosity and concern.

“What's wrong?” You ask, not being able to see the message yourself. 

“Anrir wants us back at the base for some reason.” Khopesh replies, his tone conveying his unsureness with the situation. 

“I wonder why,” you reply a little nervously, “it could be for… not ominous reasons.”

“Not sure,” Khopesh replies, “... I hope we can end this on a positive note.”

Even if he does wonder why Anrir had to send him a message that could be anxiety inducing. He thinks and reflects on his behavior and on his lovely Lullaby's behavior and he doesn't think either of them have done anything To warrant a Scolding.

“We won't know until we see him,” You say, “so let's enjoy our time together and walk back. Yeah?”

Khopesh nods in response, pulling you just a bit closer with a low purr. “Yeah…I'm sure its nothing Too serious.”

[sleepyfan-blog]

In The Medbay

Author’s Note: This is the second part of Pallius’ in Husbandry. First. Other Black Templar adventures here. Thank you to @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for letting me borrow her oc Zariel!

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34 

Warnings: none? Please ask me to tag something if I need to.

Summary: Pallius wakes up. He’s surprised by this. This is only the first of many surprises in store for the young Black Templar.

Pallius was pleasantly surprised to find himself awake. Considering how badly He had beaten him, the young Primaris Marine hadn’t expected to survive it. He wouldn’t have been the first Primaris Marine to fall to Petras’ bad temper and lethal hands, though he knew that the medicae would do their best to stabilize him, if he was able to be found in time. How he had ended up on a world with civilians on it, when he had been aboard The Sigismund when the punishment Petras had been delivering unto him moments ago made no sense whatsoever. 

His wounds ached somewhat, but far less than he was expecting them to… Was… Was he being given morpha, to relieve some of his pain? Pallius’ eyes shot open, and the view of an astartes-sized and grade medical bay filled his vision. He spotted a couple of Ultramarine apothecaries tending to other patients, moving swiftly and efficiently between them. 

… How had he ended up on a world of Ultramar? The Sigismund had been deep in Imperium Nihilus, chasing rumors of a second Primarch's possible awakening… And the strange moments of The Dark Angels…

Well, stranger movements of the Dark Angels. That particular chapter of Astartes had always been extremely secretive and unwilling to explain anything whatsoever. The way they operated reminded him of the Silver Bastard Trainers back on Mars. The ones he wasn't supposed to talk or even think about very much.

Despite the odd mysteries before him, his mind wandered back to the young mortal who had first found him, upon this world. She had been scared for him, and so earnestly trying to help. Her light touches had soothed wherever they had landed, and her voice had been a soothing balm to his ragged, guilt-ridden soil. Pallius needed to find her.

The young Black Templar looked down at himself assessingly. He had an IV attached to a clear plastic bag that was dripping… Something into his veins. His wounds that needed it were bandaged and presumably cleaned beforehand, per proper protocols.

And if there was one thing Ultramarines were good at, it was following proper protocol. Most of them, anyways.

Pallius’ body was covered by some egregious thin and flimsy light blue smock-thing and a blanket. He wiggled his toes, finding them free of the Vile Abominations known as socks, and bare. He needed to find that baseline mortal and thank her for what she had done. It was as if someone had tied steel cabling to the deepest part of his soul and tethered him to that mortal girl. He found that he did not mind this tether, but the near-frantic urge to find her and keep her safe and happy was enough to force him up and off of the comfortable bed.

A wave of morpha-induced dizziness hit Pallius hard as he managed to silently heave himself off of the bed and onto his bare feet. His fingers clumsily tied the blanket around himself over one shoulder in a parody of a toga, but it was better than the gown-thing he was wearing underneath the blanket alone.

One of his hands flew over to and grasped the IV pole, allowing himself to steady against it. Some clever soul had attached wheels to the base of the pole, which meant pushing it and the IV attached to him a lot easier. His wounds all protested simultaneously at the movement, but Pallius ignored them with all of the grit and determination that he could muster.

Pallius allowed himself a couple of seconds to breathe silently through the pain before taking a quiet step toward the medbay doors. Then another. Then a third. The young Black Templar moved slowly and with caution, so as to not aggravate his still-healing wounds to the best of his abilities, willing none of the Apothecaries to come over and bother him.

He had a (self-imposed) mission to complete, and by the God Emperor Himself, Pallius would see it done, or die in the process. Nothing and no one would be able to stop him on this righteous quest. Pallius continued to make his way to the medbay doors, and reached about three-quarters of the way there from the bed he’d woken up in, when an amused voice drawled out from behind him.

“Just where do you think you’re going, Scout?” One of the Ultramarines called out, an amused expression on his face and mirth shining in his blue-black eyes. 

“I need to find the mortal who first helped me. She was so nice and worried and I… I need to reassure her that I have survived. Do you know where she is?” Pallius asked, having partially turned to explain himself to the Apothecary before returning to his task of Leaving The Medbay.

“... And you want to find the mortal who helped you dressed like this, do you?” The Ultramarine asked, sounding very judgmental and amused.

Rude bastard. “Do you have any better ideas?” Pallius huffed, scowling (not pouting! He was a space marine, damn it) down at the older but shorter Astartes. “Or know where I may borrow some better clothes?”

“The answer to both of those questions is yes.” The Ultramarine Apothecary answered, still clearly laughing at him silently. “But first, please sit down. There is much to explain to you, and I daresay the explanation will help.”

Pallius blinked, obeying the tone of command without thought. A sigh of relief left him and the gray that had been eating at the edges of his vision faded. The pain ebbed and hey, he could breathe better again. “Will the explanation include how I arrived on a world of Ultramar?”

“Considering who you see in the medbay, I understand why you’ve guessed that. But no, we are not within the Realm of Ultramar. We are on Terra.” The Ultramarine revealed.

The Primaris Marine physically recoiled a little in shock and surprise, a silent gasp leaving him, his eyes widening as he tried to process this information. “H… Holy Terra? But… But I was many years from the Sol system, even by Warp Travel… And I thought that Terra’s atmosphere had long since become thin and heavily polluted. That is what we were told, sir.”

“In M42, this is true. However -” The Ultramarine - who introduced himself as Apothecary Zariel - explained the utterly wild and nonsensical tale of time travel that apparently every Marine currently on M3 Holy Terra had somehow undergone. Allegedly Zariel was from M36. He talked of the alliance, of bonds, of many fantastical and heretical things, ending with “And, as I can tell you don’t believe most of what I say -not that I blame you for that young one, this is a tale I would scarcely believe myself if I did not have proof of it, there are a few other Primaris Marines from M42 on base. I have asked two of them to join us. Cedric - who is an apothecary, and Ramiel, who is a Chaplain-in-training. Both of them are also Primaris Black Templars.”

“... Could you go over what these bonds are? How do you know if you have a bond? They… They aren’t heretical, are they?” Pallius asked, light blue eyes widening in surprise and recognition of the names of two of his Brothers.

Zariel smiled and gently patted one of his shoulders, having sat down partway through the long-winded lecture of absolute nonsense that he’d been trying to feed him. Why the other was trying to lie to Pallius so much, the young marine couldn’t begin to guess. All the other had to say was that it was classified for him to know where he was, and Pallius would have accepted that from the other. “Most commonly, a marine bonded to a baseline human feels the need to protect and care for that human. To ensure that they are happy and loved and that they know this. It is also common to want to spend as much time as possible around the human one is bonded to, and to feel a sense of anxiety or concern when away from one’s human for one reason or another.”

Pallius’ eyes widened and he fidgeted with his hands a little, looking away from the older Marine “And… And these bonds, they are… They are good things?”

“Yes, lad, They are wonderful gifts. Is there a particular reason why you ask?” Zariel asked, and he could hear a smile in the other’s voice.

“I think. I think I have a bonded human. The blue haired human who helped me until medicae got on the scene. I feel… I need. I need to find her. I need to make sure that she’s okay. I want to see her smile and laugh and be happy. I-I need to let her know that her care and concern weren’t wasted on someone who died, or does not think of her concern as the precious gift it is.” Pallius explained, a desperate desire to explain himself rising up within the young marine. “Please… I… I need to find her. To see her again.”

“Easy… Easy… Deep breaths. Follow my lead, lad.” Zariel instructed him, breathing in the manner that he wanted Pallius to copy. “Once you’re in a bit better shape -”

Pallius shook his head, his eyes wide and pleading “No! No, I need to see her now! I can’t… It can’t wait! I… I need to see her again. I will leave this medbay and find her on my own, the moment you leave me alone. Please! Her presence was a soothing balm. I know that I would do much better, heal faster, were she around.”

“Do you want your bonded human to see you half-dead from your wounds and half-delirious from both the morpha and blood loss?” Zariel asked, a sharpness in his voice, but a gentle understanding on his face. 

A chill ran through him. Would she see him as an ill-fitting protector, if she were to be brought to him while he was so injured, so frantic? The urge to find her was nearly all-consuming… But the idea of her rejecting him because he was a weak mess of emotions and injuries was enough to get him to stop dead in his tracks, both literally and metaphorically. “I… No…” He answered, his voice small and meek. “I don’t.”

“That’s what I thought. Now, I’m going to help you back to your bed. There are some gentle exercises that I will be happy to teach you that will help you heal better, but you must listen to me. You also must not push yourself, or you will strain your injuries and cause them to take longer to heal.” Zariel rumbled, a stern expression on his face.

Pallius ducked his head, shame burning in his hearts “Yes sir… Sorry sir…”

The stern expression on Zariel’s face softened somewhat. “I understand your eagerness to meet your bonded again. I, too have a bonded human. They are a wonderful companion, however the baseline you are bonded to would be distraught to see you in such a weakened state. Not because she’d judge you for being so badly hurt, but because she’d worry as to how you got into such a state. M3 is much more peaceful, and isolated from the horrors of the Galaxy. You want to be at your best when you meet her properly, yes?”

“Yes sir!” Pallius answered, nodding. He still felt the desire to go find the human he was Bonded to, but was able to temper that desire with the knowledge that he did not want to find them, only to collapse into a puddle of pain and bloodied meat before her feet. He obediently followed Zariel back to his bed and laid down, a sigh of relief leaving him, his eyes closing as he was stunned by how exhausted the short distance he had moved had made him.

Zariel untied the blanket he’d been wearing and tucked him into bed, running a gentle hand through his hair. “Sleep well, young one. Try not to sprint for the medbay doors when you wake up again, mm?”

“Yes sir…” Pallius yawned, letting himself settle into the comfortable embrace of sleep.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Second Chances Don't come Twice

Author’s note: Atlas in Husbandry. Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Joth and Cedric.

Summary: Atlas remembers fighting demons on the ship- that had gotten lost in the warp and remembered the pain of getting torn apart by demons. He wakes up, he's in too much pain to be dead... But how is he alive? Where is he? Oh great- a Berserker Chaos Marine- A Khornate World Eater. Welp. He's gonna die. Again. and this time he's not able to move arms or legs. Shit.

Warnings: Let me know if I need to add anything else

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Atlas had been fighting aboard the ship- they had gotten lost in the warp, and their gellar field had partially fallen. He and his brothers had been fighting against the Demonic incursion, trying their best to survive and wrest themselves free of the storm and the demons. 

He had spotted one of his brothers about to get dragged out of the group by some demons and pushed him back deeper into the group. Unfortunately that meant that the demons were able to grab him with their claws and taunting cackling.

He gave as good as he got- his brothers fighting their hardest to free him from their grasp. He saw Catius and Oleandros call out for him- arms outstretched as they tried to reach him.

That thought warmed him- before the unending pain and agony of demons trying to tear him apart had him scream, despite his best efforts not to.

Things go Loud. Things go quiet.

He feels and hears a wet, wrenching sound of bones breaking. A voice- he dimly realizes is his, which he can’t stop hollers out in soul breaking agony.

He hears the cackling of mad gods. He hears the roaring of something golden.

The Pain

A flash of light

A flash of darkness

Unconsciousness

Atlas opens his eyes. That in and of itself causes great confusion. He had been in a pitched battle on the ship. He and his brothers were trying to fight off demons who’d breached the ship. He is surprised to be able to open them again. 

He had thought that the way he’d been caught by the demons that he’d die, horribly brutally in front of his brothers. He is not surprised that he is in complete agony and his many wounds on his body are complaining.

He smells the tang of blood and suffering. His mind fogs and hazes as he stares up at the blue cloudy sky. He frowns a little, the effort to think as he stares at the sky. Sky. He had been on a ship in the warp. This is. This ground he’s laying down upon is ground. He is on a planet.

That  does not make sense. He was on a ship in the Warp. He continues to stare up at the sky and struggle to breath as his thoughts are slow and his brain is full of panicked jabbering half formed thoughts as he’s consumed by the utter agony he’s in.

‘How am I on a planet?’ is a thought that forms in his mind. ‘Is this a trick? An illusion? why?’

He continues to breathe, a task that seems monumental at the moment. Something of a great struggle. He hears the sound of something, and slowly turns his head to look and sees some… animals.

Farm animals started to approach him. Some herbivores that are used for meat, milk, and the fibers of their fur can be used to make clothing and other things.

Some of the creatures with horns bleat at him and one of them boldly comes over and bleats in his face. He flinches a little at the sound. But that movement sends waves of unending agony through him. 

Ow. He shouldn’t have tried moving. That hurt. That had really badly hurt. Part of him wonders if he’ll survive this. Or if he’ll die surrounded by farm animals.

As soon as he thought that part of him recoiled at that thought. While another part of him felt comforted that at least his body will feed the worms and other creatures of a planet, rather than the cackling maddened creatures of the Warp.

He hears more movement and a barking noise- and sees a trio of four legged creatures with fur- guardian dogs as they herded the herbivores away from the Strange Giant Metal Bleeding creature. The oldest of the Guardian canids snuffles and growls and barks and howls.

Atlas merely wishes the creature would stop being so loud. It’s not like he can do anything to get away from the creature. Or harm the canids charges. Oh- his head is ringing from how loud it is.

He hears the tromp and tread of something large headed his way and his hearts sink. He knows the stomp of Ceramite upon many different surfaces. With effort- far too much effort he shifted his head- trying to see who was coming towards him.

He hears a voice rumble out, and his hearts sink further. The dual toned almost staticky sounding tones of a Chaos Marine- the canid, blessedly stops barking and runs towards the Chaos Marine.

Atlas’s hearts sink further- he can’t do anything but watch as the canid heads towards the fuck he’s so fucked. The Khornate Berserker World Eater.

Instead of slaughtering the creature- the Chaos Marine does a gesture and says a phrase- it seems like a coded phrase as it has the trio of canids off to a different part of the … farm that he’s on.

Oh. He’s so fucking dead. Deader than dead. His skull and blood shall be used in a twisted Khornate ritual. And he can’t even put up a fight to try and get away form the Chaos Marine.

He wonders if the Khornate Chaos Marine will kill him, or just sneer down at him and watch as he dies, too weak, to pathetic for the mercy of a quick death.

Joth had heard the Guardian Dogs bay- in that particular way that meant they were trying to scare something, or someone off. And whatever it was, wasn't backing off.

With swift movement he heads in the direction of the dogs- and sees a ceramite covered form- lying on the ground and the iron tang of blood and pain scent the air.

As he comes closer- he realizes the fellow Space Marine- who he had readied to growled at was wearing Ultramarine colors- and was severely wounded and a Baby.

Joth approaches the likely severely hurt, and likely going to be skittish as fuck baby who looked like he was drifting in and out of wakefulness.

The baby manages to squint up at him and try very hilariously to growl at him, but was in too much pain to do that and merely made raspy whimpering noises.

"Not gonna hurt you Scoutling," Joth croons, at the very suspicious and heavily wounded baby. Who- to his credit, attempted to growl at him again.

Joth watched the way the younglings limbs twitch, but not move much. That. could be really bad. He sends a message to the local Astarte clinic about a heavily wounded baby needing immediate help, as well as not being stable enough to move.

He gets a swift response as he crouches down next to the youngster, "I know that you won't believe me, but I am not going to hurt you. Help is coming- some brothers are going to patch you up."

Joth is talking to the baby and grabs one of his hands gently, the baby seems to be hovering between wakefulness and passing out from the pain he's in.

"Keep awake little cousin," Joth rumbles, gently squeezing his hand. He smells the stench of Chaos on his wounds. Poor kid got on the wrong side of a fight with some demons.

Joth's ears prick as he says, "Your brothers are coming- we will get you fixed up, stay awake little Scout."

Zariel and Cedric are running towards them with urgent battle care kits as well as a team with a stretcher just minutes behind him. The Baby Black Templar lets out a growly noise at Joth, before his eyes snap to the blue and gold clad Scout.

"Atlas!" Cedric calls out as he runs to Catius and Oleandros's squad lead and fellow Primaris Ultramarine's side as he and Zariel assess and patch up Atlas.

[elizauh]

A drawing of my oath breaker paladin, Saffron!

Aesthetically, she’s my favourite Tav that I’ve made. She’s a noble-born zariel tiefling (I’m not sure how or if tiefling nobles exist, so idk, let me live in my fantasy world I guess lol). Originally I started my play through thinking that she would romance Wyll since they seemed pretty compatible but his romance scenes were never triggered :,). After also friend zoning everyone else in the party, Saffron is now without a partner. In my head she’s just a big dork and canonically cannot flirt.

Thank you for reading my ramblings（╹◡╹）

[ashsktchm]

missing our campaign and i'm missing THEM

[alongtidesoflight]

nightmare blunt rotation