#oc: malish

[sleepyfan-blog]

Lestra's Arrival

Author’s Note: This is the second part of the mini-arc involving new Primaris Black Templars arriving in the husbandry AU. FIrst. Next. Other Cedric fics here and here. Thank you to @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for allowing me to borrow Hura and Zariel

Tagged:  @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34

Warnings: graphic description of wounds, blood, character death, 

Summary: A badly injured Lestra is found by a renegade warband and brought to the clinic for treatment.

The scent of blood was thick and heavy in the air as the wind changed directions. A small frown appeared on Tallis’ face and he signaled to one of the Cousins he was currently traveling with, as he was on point before speaking “Something… Someone is bleeding heavily nearby. Smells like an Astartes. I’m going to go check it out.”

“Careful, sorcerer. The Warp is much harder to reach in this time period.” The Raven Guard Sargeant who was the leader of the little warband that Tallis had been found and semi-adopted by, warned. 

“Yeah, Yeah. I know. I’ll be careful. First sign of trouble, and I’ll vox for help.” The Thousand Son hummed in acknowledgement as he carefully made his way over to where the scent of fresh blood was strongest.

~

It did not take long for Tallis to find the other Space Marine, who was leaning heavily against a tree. The other was naked from the waist up and badly wounded. There were bright red, raised lacerations covering every inch of skin on his back from the neck down. On top of those wounds were fist-sized bruises every four to five inches apart, too regularly placed to be randomly placed. Worse than that, however, was the wounds on his chest, as Tallis carefully turned him over.

Tallis couldn’t tell what color the other marine’s short hair was originally, as it was matted and discolored with blood. Both of his eyes had been scratched out by what looked like lightning claws. He swallowed hard as whoever had used the lightning claws on this poor marine’s eyes had liberally used them on his chest and abdomen as well, having carved words into his chest in a language that he did not recognize, though that might be in part from the amount of blood oozing from his wounds.

“I NEED AN APOTHECARY AT THESE COORDINATES IMMEDIATELY!” Tallis yelled  over vox, making sure that he was using the broadest and longest-range frequency he could as horror settled in his stomach, a heavy leaden weight.

The other marine was breathing, but his chest was rising and falling unevenly, and was more gasping than breathing regularly. He reacted to Tallis’ yelling by curling defensively, a pained whimper leaving him.

Tallis knelt down in front of the other marine, his voice quieter as he aimed for soothing, and landing on frantic “Hey… Hey. Easy. I mean you no harm, oh throne, you have no studs. You’re a scout. Who the kriff did this to a scout? Keep breathing and stay awake as best as you can. I’ve called for an apothecary. I do have some first aid training, and I do have some supplies on me, so I’m going to start treating you as best as I can, alright? Please don’t startle when I touch you. Can you tell me your name, scout?”

The scout whimpered and turned his face towards him, opening his mouth and revealing -

Oh. 

This poor bastard had his tongue ripped out too, did he? Tallis silently wondered if he’d been found and overpowered by a group of Drukhari before being translocated to M3 Terra. “Okay, no talking, for you. That’s okay. I can talk enough for the both of us. So, right now I’m grabbing the wound cleanser I have in my bag and I’m gonna spritz those claw-marks with it. Its’ gonna sting a little, but I know that you can handle it. Here. I’m gonna move one of your hands so that you’re touching my knee, so that you know that I’m here and I’m real.” 

He heard Sargeant Malish crash through the underbrush in his direction at the sound of his shout, the rest of the warband on his heels. But all Tallis could do was to focus on the poor, unfortunate scout in front of him, to try and reassure the lad that he wasn’t alone in a strange place, left to die slowly. 

“Enki, Rao, make us a stretcher. There’s a hospital a ten-minute sprint from here that treats Astartes, and he’s going to need a lot more than whatever first aid we can give him in the middle of this forest. Tallis, you stay with the kid until it’s time to move him. Do you see any signs of neck or spinal damage?” Malish asked, looking the injured marine over critically.

The scout who had black painted leg and boot armor whimpered and flinched at the sound of the sargent’s yelling, his shaking getting worse.

“I… No? I don’t think so, but we should be careful in how we move him, anyways. He’s in really rough shape, and I think at least one of his lungs have been ruptured, front he way he’s breathing. Easy… Easy, scout. No one’s yelling at you. You’re doing a great job staying awake.” Tallis murmured, gently patting one of the other’s shoulders, trying to get the poor scout to calm down a little. 

The scout whimpered wordlessly, but he seemed to relax a little, which was progress.. It did not take long for Rao and Enki to build a make-shift stretcher that would hold the kid’s weight. “Alright, we’re going to put you up in the stretcher, now. On the count of three, we’re going to lift you up and put you on it. One… Two… Three!” Tallis counted, helping to heave the surprisingly heavy scout up and onto the stretcher. Tallis ran ahead of the four carrying the injured scout, guiding them to the astartes-friendly clinic-hospital.

~

Despite the stench of blood, the slow, agonal gasps of the brother on the operating table, and the chemical scent of cleanser in his nostrils, Part of Cedric silently wondered if htis was a nightmare of some kind.

Lestra was on the operating table, again. Cedric was part of the medical team trying to save his life. Again.

Hopefully Chaplain Petras and Sargeant Brenthom would not come bursting into the roo, half-way through the procedure, with the former bellowing at them to stop all but the most necessary procedures to keep him from dying, as these wounds had been inflicted due to punishments that Lestra had somehow earned.

Quiet, obedient, dutiful Lestra. 

Lestra, who had some of the best scores of any of them when it came to marksmanship and tech-repair outside of the snipers and tech-marines.

Lestra, who murmured the prayers to Him on Terra most fervently, who delighted in aiding the Chaplains in any duties they asked of them, no matter how menial the task.

Lestra, who never questioned orders. Who tended to their weapons and armor with a patient reverence that bordered on nearly obsessive.

Lestra who, despite every effort that Cedric and the other Apothecaries were making, was once again dying, drowning in their own blood, as it filled their lungs faster than could be siphoned away. Whose blood loss was causing a cascade of effects that was shutting down their body. Lestra, whose body was rejecting the blood and fluids that they were trying to pump into them.

Lestra, who coughed wetly and grabbed Cedric with desperate, waning strength,pressingtheir forehead to his for several seconds before going limp, their hearts stopping.

Lestra, whose blood coated Cedric’s hands, arms and chest. Even after it had been washed away by an older Apothecary, when it had become clear that Cedric had locked up, unable to move.

“I failed them… Again.” Cedric muttered as he stared down at Lestra’s still warm body. Two of the Imperial Fist Apothecaries were preparing to open them up, to carve out the necessary organs that could be saved and reused. 

“Sometimes patients die, lad. Even though we do what we can to help them. They were in a bad way, lad. It was unlikely that they were going to survive. Do you know which chapter they belonged to?” One of the Imperial Fists asked, reaching out to try and touch Cedric.

Cedric flinched, stepping a half-step back not-trusting the touch to be painless. “Lestra, Primaris. Black Templars. They were… They were one of the first I -” found badly hurt. Before he… Before he knew what was going on. Before he knew which of his Firstborn brothers was beating them to the point of death. Not that he was fool enough to say that out loud where other firstborns could hear that. “The Bellasarian engine will explode if you try to remove it from their body, causing considerable damage, so leave it in place.”

“Ah… They were one of the first patients you lost? That’s always rough. Come on, lad. You can leave the grisly work of organ harvesting to the others.” Of all people, Captain Ash’val murmured.

Where had the salamander scout captain come from? He was no apothecary.

“But I… They need…” Cedric tried to find the words, his hearts bleeding and lungs seizing up. 

“The others will handle the organ removal. After that, Ramiel can guide their final rights, and you and the others can give them a final goodbye. Losing a patient is rough… Especially you’re first one, and I can’t imagine what losing your first patient twice must feel like.” Ash’val murmured, wrapping one arm around Cedric’s shoulders and steering him out of the operating room.

“But… But I was able to save Olivar… Why wasn’t I able to save Lestra? It’s not… It’s not fair!” Cedric managed out, trembling violently, though he did not resist Ash’val’s touch, nor his orders.

“Olivar’s wounds were less severe, and he was closer to treatment than LEstra. These things happen. You did your best, lad. That’s all we can ask of you.”

Cedric crumbled into Ash’val’s steady body, weeping until he passed out.

~

“Did you discover anything during the Autopsy, Zariel?” Ash’val, asked, his voice quiet, so as to not wake up the distraught young apothecary passed out in his arms, hours later.

“The lash-markings on Lestra’s body are consistent with the ones found on Ramiel and Olivar, when they were first brought in for treatment. As is the lichtenberg scarring and the way that the lightning claw wounds were on Ramiel’s and Lestra’s bodies. It’s likely that whoever went after our two surviving Primaris Black Templars was the one who killed Lestra.” Zariel dutifully reported to the Salamander.

Hura offered “Cedric was equally unsurprised to see the wounds upon Lestra, as he was on Olivar and Ramiel as well, which means he was likely one of the apothecaries who tended to the three of them in M42 before he and they were all brought here to Ancient Terra.” He was frowning as he watched the young apothecary in training sleep. “When I brought young Ramiel to view Lestra’s body, he was understandably distraught, but not surprised that they died, despite all efforts to save them.”

“You know… For as bad as they are at lying, they sure do seem to be keeping dark secrets and deep sorrows hidden in the deepest corners of their hearts.” Zariel murmured with a small frown.

“They correctly guessed the colors of your armor within weeks of living here. A feat most of the rest of the base has yet to discern.” Ash’val pointed out. “They may be young, but they are clever.”

Zariel huffed at that, looking away. “Point taken.”

“We should go, before Cedric awakens. Our presence will only confuse and worry him, given his recent trial.” Hura remarked, standing up a moment later and dragging Zariel out of his chair.

“Hey! I can walk on my own. Let me go, you giant bastard.” Zariel grumbled reluctantly allowing the Death Guard to manhandle him. 

[mikealys-ael]

30 Days selfship challenge : Day 22 : Them getting jealous

Haaa... Malish, I need to draw him again. He’s one of my oc annndd, at some point, we were sex friends. Yea.

It’s crappy hush

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

Fun Fact Friday

Thanks for tagging me, @jessica-writes22! :D This is a great idea!

Rules: List as many fun facts about your OCs, writing process, or WIPs as you want. I’ll do this for the Death series, since I haven’t talked much about it on Tumblr:

Originally the story was a gender-flipped retelling of Hades and Persephone. Another major influence was the German musical Elisabeth, which is where I got the idea of Death following multiple generations of royalty around.

The setting was very vague during the outlining and first few chapters. At first I imagined a pseudo-Victorian England setting. (Some hints of this remain in the gas lamps and airships.) About ten chapters into book 1 I decided to swap the pseudo-English setting for a pseudo-Chinese one, inspired by my love of fantasy and historical Cdramas. And along the way I considered a pseudo-Japanese setting inspired by my love of Takarazuka; hints of this survive in names like Rurika.

Speaking of names, I had fun adding references only I’m likely to understand. Emperor Zizhen, mentioned only in a footnote, is named after Ouyang Zizhen from Mo Dao Zu Shi/The Untamed. Rurika is named after retired Takarazuka actress Miya Rurika. Zenda, the province Gialma comes from, is named after The Prisoner of Zenda. And Tinuviel, of course, is a Tolkien reference.

Death is the easiest character to write, and Kilan is the hardest. Gialma, Varan and Kiroshnoy are my favourites to write.

Gialma was originally supposed to be just a typical would-be usurper. When I actually started to write him I found he wasn’t like that at all. And sort of accidentally he became the character who’s most like me: we’re both shy and terrible at socialising.

Malish is based partly on Calormen from The Chronicles of Narnia and partly on the historical Ottoman empire. Nirne’s name is based on Narnia but it’s inspired by imperial Russia.

Like most of my WIPs I came up with the story as I wrote it. So if you think something comes out of nowhere, that’s because it does.

[tk-duveraun]

OC questions: 4, 28, 46, 50

4. A character you rarely talk about?

Ciel, my salty princess XD She and Varric are a menace to the Inquisition and all of Thedas and I love them.

28. Your most dangerous OC?

Vasili. In DA he can turn into an extremely powerful abomination because George has been around collecting power since the time of Arlathan. And in SWTOR it’s also Vasili because he’s a Conduit (something I extrapolated from various things in swtor) and can blow up and kill everyone friend and foe. Oops!

46. Has anyone ever told you that you treat your OCs badly?

No, actually. People tell me I treat THEM badly, but since my OCs usually come out alive on the other side, people focus on how much I hurt them, lmao.

50. Give me the good ol’ OC talk here. Talk about anything you want

I really, really love Malish. He’s been on the self for forever and started out just as Rule 63 Cass-no-not-that-one and he’s just? A sweet little nerd? The worst Sith? I love you, my nerd son.

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

The Great OC Alphabet Caper: Z

I don’t have any OCs whose name starts with W, X or Y. But I have three OCs whose name starts with Z (from the Death series, TPATG, and LSOHG), so here’s the last instalment of my OC list!

Zafadin

Name: Zafadin (he probably has a surname, but I can’t find if I ever mentioned it 😅)

Age/Pronouns: 18-ish, he/him

Brief physical description: Average height, black hair, brown eyes

Brief list of defining traits: Ambitious. Uses poison to kill his enemies.

Excerpt:

Teatime in Malish was a ritual strictly observed by everyone. The deadliest enemies would put on a mask of politeness when invited to tea together. Long etiquette books had been written on how to behave while drinking tea. There were rules and customs about what sort of tea should be served when, where and to whom, and what sort of food should accompany it. Murder at teatime was even more unthinkable than murder during a religious ceremony.

That had never stopped Zafadin.

He had found endless ways to meddle with the food and drink at teatime. Small doses of poison were the most effective way to disarm someone, even if it didn't kill them. Large doses, or multiple different poisons, were reserved for when he was absolutely certain he wanted to kill someone. Poisons found only in a single part of the empire were difficult to obtain, but very useful for when he wanted to frame someone from that area. He even fed himself small doses of poison every day, just in case anyone tried to use his own methods against him. It led to endless headaches and a non-stop feeling of nausea. To say nothing of a hair-raising incident when he discovered it was impossible to build up an immunity to some poisons like miharjanziq. After that he curtailed his use of more exotic poisons and relied mostly on ones that were common, easy to find, and most importantly easy to cure.

Trivia:

Jalakanavu’s second husband

Zi Yao

Name: Shen Zi Yao

Age/Pronouns: 3 or 4 (in human years), he/him

Brief physical description: Black hair, brown eyes

Brief list of defining traits: Has an unknown disease (possibly epilepsy) that only Lian can cure.

Excerpt:

On the other side of the palace Bai Jiu struggled to get the Ninth Prince ready. It was a very difficult task when he had spent the last hour playing in the mud and wanted nothing more than to keep doing that.

"Don't want a bath! Don't wanna don't wanna don't wanna!"

For all that his health was so delicate there was certainly nothing wrong with his lungs.

Wu She, the eunuch who was Zi Yao's main attendant, carried the screeching prince over to the bathtub with the resigned expression of someone facing a terrible ordeal. He and Bai Jiu tried to take off His Highness's outer clothing. The Ninth Prince screamed like he was being murdered.

Trivia:

Named after Jin Guangyao from Mo Dao Zu Shi by way of meta pointing out JGY’s name should actually be Jin Ziyao

Has eight brothers and at least three sisters

Mirio’s cousin

Zviad

Name: Hariye Zinoth han-Teyar, Zviad Mikheijë

Age/Pronouns: Late teens/early 20s, he/him

Brief physical description: None yet

Brief list of defining traits: The sea monster Rusudan wants to find. Does not want to be found.

Excerpt: None yet

Trivia:

His subplot is basically The Little Mermaid meets Goodbye My Princess

May or may not end up with Darejan

Adding TPATG’s taglist: @ajbrooks-writes, @mjmnorwood, @houser-of-stories, @time-space-and-the-muses, @lothloriien, @aliensmoon, @rataltouille, @thescatteredscribbles, @alexwritesfiction, @moth-with-a-pen, @thelaughingstag, @diphthongsfordays, @athenswrites, @ladydawnxx, @talesfromaurea, @jacquesfindswritingandadvice

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

The Great OC Alphabet Caper: J

Only one OC this time, and she’s from the Death series!

Jalakanavu

Name: Jalakanavu

Age/Pronouns: Mid 20s, she/her

Brief physical description: No specific one. (I picture her as looking like a character in Magnificent Century, but I don’t know the character’s name so this is basically useless information.)

Brief list of defining traits: The most competent ruler Malish has had for a while, which isn’t saying a whole lot. Doesn’t want to give up her power.

Excerpt:

Despite what she wanted her servants to think Jalakanavu rarely slept the entire night through. At some point in every night she would wake up, check her room was secure, make sure no one had broken in, and glance in at the child Iqui. Hadurman slept in a nursery adjoined to Jalakanavu's bedroom, accompanied by his nursemaid one night and his birth mother the next. It wasn't traditional, of course. But Jalakanavu had argued it was safest. For once she'd won an argument against tradition. Give her time and she'd win all the others too.

Tonight as usual she checked the toddler was asleep and still alive. Then she looked over at the bed where the boy's birth mother lay. She was fast asleep too, the fool. An enemy could sneak up on her and she'd never know a thing.

Until now Jalakanavu had kept the woman alive because she had no reason yet for killing her. It wasn't wise to kill too many enemies all at once. People would start to make connections. But the Iqui was growing up. He would have his fourth birthday soon. His birth mother was becoming a nuisance, something that divided his loyalty when he needed to be absolutely dependent on Jalakanavu.

Trivia:

Formerly married to Nalginton. Currently married to Zafadin.

Sort of an anti-Qihadal: she’s in a similar position to Qihadal, nut she’s much more ambitious and wants to be where she is

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

You've been visited by the random OC question fairy! May your day be filled with cake, friends, and good vibes! 🎉🎈🎂 :D ~☆

What is your character's birth date? Is there anything significant about that date? What is their star sign?

I need to figure out all of my OCs’ birth dates, so I answered this with a lot more OCs than I meant to 😅 None of my WIPs’ settings use the Western zodiac or the Gregorian calendar (a decision I often regret since I have to invent my own zodiacs and calendars 🤦‍♀️) so these dates are just approximations of what their birthdays would be if they lived in our world. (I listed both Western and fictional zodiacs because I’m trying to figure out what fictional sign equates to which real-world one.)

From the Death series:

Death = doesn’t have a birthday (obviously :P )

Kilan = 11 June. No significance. Star sign: Gemini (our world); the Deer (Carann’s zodiac)

Qihadal = 14 August. Significant only because it’s my birthday and I felt like giving it to one of my OCs :P Star sign: Leo; the Door (Malish’s zodiac)

Gialma = 29 October. No significance. Star sign: Scorpio; the Owl

Hailanyu = 30 April. No significance. Star sign: Taurus; the Mouse

Kiroshnoy = 17 December. No significance. Star sign: Sagittarius; Rëshka (Nirne’s zodiac)

From The Power and the Glory:

Abi = 2 July. No significance. Star sign: Cancer; Third Star of Udírn (Saoridhlém’s zodiac)

Irímé = 18 June. Day of the Festival of Serenity. Star sign: Gemini; First Star of Udírn

Ilaran = 21 November. Shares his birthday with Shizuki. Star sign: Gemini; First Star of Idenelai

Siarvin = 11 March. No significance. Star sign: Pisces; Second Star of Tharan

Shizuki = 21 November, same as Ilaran

Kitri: 2 September. No significance. Star sign: Virgo; First Star of Kién

From Totentanz:

Diarnlan = 8 August. No significance. Star sign: Leo; the Flower (Avallot’s zodiac)

Karandren: 16 February. No significance. Star sign: Aquarius; the Owl

[tk-duveraun]

31, 38, and 40 from the OC ask meme :>

31. Pick one OC of yours and explain what their tumblr blog would be like (what they reblog, layout, anything really)

Aquila’s posts martial arts and swordwork tutorials, exposition videos and silly vlog/compilation videos featuring Aran, Vee and herself. The rest is cute pictures and the entire contents of Malish’s blog.

38. Which one of your OCs would be the best dancer?

Cakara is the best, followed by Echani!Vasili. In the flowershop AU, Cakara is actually a professional ballerina. She’s a lot more flat-chested than her art would make you believe.

40. Any fond memories linked to your characters? Feel free to share!

Fox is how I got my best potats Varg and Maia and Vasili brought me Lor :D

[bleedingichorhearts]

Oh, oh no. I have a feeling that I would have loved Lestra.😔 Not like I love all of them, I wish to brood them all like a mother hen, but still. They deserve better than what hand they were dealt with, quite literally too. Perhaps… they will all have rapture together one day?

Lestra's Arrival

Author’s Note: This is the second part of the mini-arc involving new Primaris Black Templars arriving in the husbandry AU. FIrst. Next. Other Cedric fics here and here. Thank you to @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for allowing me to borrow Hura and Zariel

Tagged:  @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34

Warnings: graphic description of wounds, blood, character death, 

Summary: A badly injured Lestra is found by a renegade warband and brought to the clinic for treatment.

The scent of blood was thick and heavy in the air as the wind changed directions. A small frown appeared on Tallis’ face and he signaled to one of the Cousins he was currently traveling with, as he was on point before speaking “Something… Someone is bleeding heavily nearby. Smells like an Astartes. I’m going to go check it out.”

“Careful, sorcerer. The Warp is much harder to reach in this time period.” The Raven Guard Sargeant who was the leader of the little warband that Tallis had been found and semi-adopted by, warned. 

“Yeah, Yeah. I know. I’ll be careful. First sign of trouble, and I’ll vox for help.” The Thousand Son hummed in acknowledgement as he carefully made his way over to where the scent of fresh blood was strongest.

~

It did not take long for Tallis to find the other Space Marine, who was leaning heavily against a tree. The other was naked from the waist up and badly wounded. There were bright red, raised lacerations covering every inch of skin on his back from the neck down. On top of those wounds were fist-sized bruises every four to five inches apart, too regularly placed to be randomly placed. Worse than that, however, was the wounds on his chest, as Tallis carefully turned him over.

Tallis couldn’t tell what color the other marine’s short hair was originally, as it was matted and discolored with blood. Both of his eyes had been scratched out by what looked like lightning claws. He swallowed hard as whoever had used the lightning claws on this poor marine’s eyes had liberally used them on his chest and abdomen as well, having carved words into his chest in a language that he did not recognize, though that might be in part from the amount of blood oozing from his wounds.

“I NEED AN APOTHECARY AT THESE COORDINATES IMMEDIATELY!” Tallis yelled  over vox, making sure that he was using the broadest and longest-range frequency he could as horror settled in his stomach, a heavy leaden weight.

The other marine was breathing, but his chest was rising and falling unevenly, and was more gasping than breathing regularly. He reacted to Tallis’ yelling by curling defensively, a pained whimper leaving him.

Tallis knelt down in front of the other marine, his voice quieter as he aimed for soothing, and landing on frantic “Hey… Hey. Easy. I mean you no harm, oh throne, you have no studs. You’re a scout. Who the kriff did this to a scout? Keep breathing and stay awake as best as you can. I’ve called for an apothecary. I do have some first aid training, and I do have some supplies on me, so I’m going to start treating you as best as I can, alright? Please don’t startle when I touch you. Can you tell me your name, scout?”

The scout whimpered and turned his face towards him, opening his mouth and revealing -

Oh. 

This poor bastard had his tongue ripped out too, did he? Tallis silently wondered if he’d been found and overpowered by a group of Drukhari before being translocated to M3 Terra. “Okay, no talking, for you. That’s okay. I can talk enough for the both of us. So, right now I’m grabbing the wound cleanser I have in my bag and I’m gonna spritz those claw-marks with it. Its’ gonna sting a little, but I know that you can handle it. Here. I’m gonna move one of your hands so that you’re touching my knee, so that you know that I’m here and I’m real.” 

He heard Sargeant Malish crash through the underbrush in his direction at the sound of his shout, the rest of the warband on his heels. But all Tallis could do was to focus on the poor, unfortunate scout in front of him, to try and reassure the lad that he wasn’t alone in a strange place, left to die slowly. 

“Enki, Rao, make us a stretcher. There’s a hospital a ten-minute sprint from here that treats Astartes, and he’s going to need a lot more than whatever first aid we can give him in the middle of this forest. Tallis, you stay with the kid until it’s time to move him. Do you see any signs of neck or spinal damage?” Malish asked, looking the injured marine over critically.

The scout who had black painted leg and boot armor whimpered and flinched at the sound of the sargent’s yelling, his shaking getting worse.

“I… No? I don’t think so, but we should be careful in how we move him, anyways. He’s in really rough shape, and I think at least one of his lungs have been ruptured, front he way he’s breathing. Easy… Easy, scout. No one’s yelling at you. You’re doing a great job staying awake.” Tallis murmured, gently patting one of the other’s shoulders, trying to get the poor scout to calm down a little. 

The scout whimpered wordlessly, but he seemed to relax a little, which was progress.. It did not take long for Rao and Enki to build a make-shift stretcher that would hold the kid’s weight. “Alright, we’re going to put you up in the stretcher, now. On the count of three, we’re going to lift you up and put you on it. One… Two… Three!” Tallis counted, helping to heave the surprisingly heavy scout up and onto the stretcher. Tallis ran ahead of the four carrying the injured scout, guiding them to the astartes-friendly clinic-hospital.

~

Despite the stench of blood, the slow, agonal gasps of the brother on the operating table, and the chemical scent of cleanser in his nostrils, Part of Cedric silently wondered if htis was a nightmare of some kind.

Lestra was on the operating table, again. Cedric was part of the medical team trying to save his life. Again.

Hopefully Chaplain Petras and Sargeant Brenthom would not come bursting into the roo, half-way through the procedure, with the former bellowing at them to stop all but the most necessary procedures to keep him from dying, as these wounds had been inflicted due to punishments that Lestra had somehow earned.

Quiet, obedient, dutiful Lestra. 

Lestra, who had some of the best scores of any of them when it came to marksmanship and tech-repair outside of the snipers and tech-marines.

Lestra, who murmured the prayers to Him on Terra most fervently, who delighted in aiding the Chaplains in any duties they asked of them, no matter how menial the task.

Lestra, who never questioned orders. Who tended to their weapons and armor with a patient reverence that bordered on nearly obsessive.

Lestra who, despite every effort that Cedric and the other Apothecaries were making, was once again dying, drowning in their own blood, as it filled their lungs faster than could be siphoned away. Whose blood loss was causing a cascade of effects that was shutting down their body. Lestra, whose body was rejecting the blood and fluids that they were trying to pump into them.

Lestra, who coughed wetly and grabbed Cedric with desperate, waning strength,pressingtheir forehead to his for several seconds before going limp, their hearts stopping.

Lestra, whose blood coated Cedric’s hands, arms and chest. Even after it had been washed away by an older Apothecary, when it had become clear that Cedric had locked up, unable to move.

“I failed them… Again.” Cedric muttered as he stared down at Lestra’s still warm body. Two of the Imperial Fist Apothecaries were preparing to open them up, to carve out the necessary organs that could be saved and reused. 

“Sometimes patients die, lad. Even though we do what we can to help them. They were in a bad way, lad. It was unlikely that they were going to survive. Do you know which chapter they belonged to?” One of the Imperial Fists asked, reaching out to try and touch Cedric.

Cedric flinched, stepping a half-step back not-trusting the touch to be painless. “Lestra, Primaris. Black Templars. They were… They were one of the first I -” found badly hurt. Before he… Before he knew what was going on. Before he knew which of his Firstborn brothers was beating them to the point of death. Not that he was fool enough to say that out loud where other firstborns could hear that. “The Bellasarian engine will explode if you try to remove it from their body, causing considerable damage, so leave it in place.”

“Ah… They were one of the first patients you lost? That’s always rough. Come on, lad. You can leave the grisly work of organ harvesting to the others.” Of all people, Captain Ash’val murmured.

Where had the salamander scout captain come from? He was no apothecary.

“But I… They need…” Cedric tried to find the words, his hearts bleeding and lungs seizing up. 

“The others will handle the organ removal. After that, Ramiel can guide their final rights, and you and the others can give them a final goodbye. Losing a patient is rough… Especially you’re first one, and I can’t imagine what losing your first patient twice must feel like.” Ash’val murmured, wrapping one arm around Cedric’s shoulders and steering him out of the operating room.

“But… But I was able to save Olivar… Why wasn’t I able to save Lestra? It’s not… It’s not fair!” Cedric managed out, trembling violently, though he did not resist Ash’val’s touch, nor his orders.

“Olivar’s wounds were less severe, and he was closer to treatment than LEstra. These things happen. You did your best, lad. That’s all we can ask of you.”

Cedric crumbled into Ash’val’s steady body, weeping until he passed out.

~

“Did you discover anything during the Autopsy, Zariel?” Ash’val, asked, his voice quiet, so as to not wake up the distraught young apothecary passed out in his arms, hours later.

“The lash-markings on Lestra’s body are consistent with the ones found on Ramiel and Olivar, when they were first brought in for treatment. As is the lichtenberg scarring and the way that the lightning claw wounds were on Ramiel’s and Lestra’s bodies. It’s likely that whoever went after our two surviving Primaris Black Templars was the one who killed Lestra.” Zariel dutifully reported to the Salamander.

Hura offered “Cedric was equally unsurprised to see the wounds upon Lestra, as he was on Olivar and Ramiel as well, which means he was likely one of the apothecaries who tended to the three of them in M42 before he and they were all brought here to Ancient Terra.” He was frowning as he watched the young apothecary in training sleep. “When I brought young Ramiel to view Lestra’s body, he was understandably distraught, but not surprised that they died, despite all efforts to save them.”

“You know… For as bad as they are at lying, they sure do seem to be keeping dark secrets and deep sorrows hidden in the deepest corners of their hearts.” Zariel murmured with a small frown.

“They correctly guessed the colors of your armor within weeks of living here. A feat most of the rest of the base has yet to discern.” Ash’val pointed out. “They may be young, but they are clever.”

Zariel huffed at that, looking away. “Point taken.”

“We should go, before Cedric awakens. Our presence will only confuse and worry him, given his recent trial.” Hura remarked, standing up a moment later and dragging Zariel out of his chair.

“Hey! I can walk on my own. Let me go, you giant bastard.” Zariel grumbled reluctantly allowing the Death Guard to manhandle him. 

[egrets-not-regrets]

Poor Lestra. Wonder what he did to deserve such torture. And my heart breaks for Cedric. It be hard losing same brother twice. The clues are coming together though.

Lestra's Arrival

Author’s Note: This is the second part of the mini-arc involving new Primaris Black Templars arriving in the husbandry AU. FIrst. Next. Other Cedric fics here and here. Thank you to @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for allowing me to borrow Hura and Zariel

Tagged:  @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34

Warnings: graphic description of wounds, blood, character death, 

Summary: A badly injured Lestra is found by a renegade warband and brought to the clinic for treatment.

The scent of blood was thick and heavy in the air as the wind changed directions. A small frown appeared on Tallis’ face and he signaled to one of the Cousins he was currently traveling with, as he was on point before speaking “Something… Someone is bleeding heavily nearby. Smells like an Astartes. I’m going to go check it out.”

“Careful, sorcerer. The Warp is much harder to reach in this time period.” The Raven Guard Sargeant who was the leader of the little warband that Tallis had been found and semi-adopted by, warned. 

“Yeah, Yeah. I know. I’ll be careful. First sign of trouble, and I’ll vox for help.” The Thousand Son hummed in acknowledgement as he carefully made his way over to where the scent of fresh blood was strongest.

~

It did not take long for Tallis to find the other Space Marine, who was leaning heavily against a tree. The other was naked from the waist up and badly wounded. There were bright red, raised lacerations covering every inch of skin on his back from the neck down. On top of those wounds were fist-sized bruises every four to five inches apart, too regularly placed to be randomly placed. Worse than that, however, was the wounds on his chest, as Tallis carefully turned him over.

Tallis couldn’t tell what color the other marine’s short hair was originally, as it was matted and discolored with blood. Both of his eyes had been scratched out by what looked like lightning claws. He swallowed hard as whoever had used the lightning claws on this poor marine’s eyes had liberally used them on his chest and abdomen as well, having carved words into his chest in a language that he did not recognize, though that might be in part from the amount of blood oozing from his wounds.

“I NEED AN APOTHECARY AT THESE COORDINATES IMMEDIATELY!” Tallis yelled  over vox, making sure that he was using the broadest and longest-range frequency he could as horror settled in his stomach, a heavy leaden weight.

The other marine was breathing, but his chest was rising and falling unevenly, and was more gasping than breathing regularly. He reacted to Tallis’ yelling by curling defensively, a pained whimper leaving him.

Tallis knelt down in front of the other marine, his voice quieter as he aimed for soothing, and landing on frantic “Hey… Hey. Easy. I mean you no harm, oh throne, you have no studs. You’re a scout. Who the kriff did this to a scout? Keep breathing and stay awake as best as you can. I’ve called for an apothecary. I do have some first aid training, and I do have some supplies on me, so I’m going to start treating you as best as I can, alright? Please don’t startle when I touch you. Can you tell me your name, scout?”

The scout whimpered and turned his face towards him, opening his mouth and revealing -

Oh. 

This poor bastard had his tongue ripped out too, did he? Tallis silently wondered if he’d been found and overpowered by a group of Drukhari before being translocated to M3 Terra. “Okay, no talking, for you. That’s okay. I can talk enough for the both of us. So, right now I’m grabbing the wound cleanser I have in my bag and I’m gonna spritz those claw-marks with it. Its’ gonna sting a little, but I know that you can handle it. Here. I’m gonna move one of your hands so that you’re touching my knee, so that you know that I’m here and I’m real.” 

He heard Sargeant Malish crash through the underbrush in his direction at the sound of his shout, the rest of the warband on his heels. But all Tallis could do was to focus on the poor, unfortunate scout in front of him, to try and reassure the lad that he wasn’t alone in a strange place, left to die slowly. 

“Enki, Rao, make us a stretcher. There’s a hospital a ten-minute sprint from here that treats Astartes, and he’s going to need a lot more than whatever first aid we can give him in the middle of this forest. Tallis, you stay with the kid until it’s time to move him. Do you see any signs of neck or spinal damage?” Malish asked, looking the injured marine over critically.

The scout who had black painted leg and boot armor whimpered and flinched at the sound of the sargent’s yelling, his shaking getting worse.

“I… No? I don’t think so, but we should be careful in how we move him, anyways. He’s in really rough shape, and I think at least one of his lungs have been ruptured, front he way he’s breathing. Easy… Easy, scout. No one’s yelling at you. You’re doing a great job staying awake.” Tallis murmured, gently patting one of the other’s shoulders, trying to get the poor scout to calm down a little. 

The scout whimpered wordlessly, but he seemed to relax a little, which was progress.. It did not take long for Rao and Enki to build a make-shift stretcher that would hold the kid’s weight. “Alright, we’re going to put you up in the stretcher, now. On the count of three, we’re going to lift you up and put you on it. One… Two… Three!” Tallis counted, helping to heave the surprisingly heavy scout up and onto the stretcher. Tallis ran ahead of the four carrying the injured scout, guiding them to the astartes-friendly clinic-hospital.

~

Despite the stench of blood, the slow, agonal gasps of the brother on the operating table, and the chemical scent of cleanser in his nostrils, Part of Cedric silently wondered if htis was a nightmare of some kind.

Lestra was on the operating table, again. Cedric was part of the medical team trying to save his life. Again.

Hopefully Chaplain Petras and Sargeant Brenthom would not come bursting into the roo, half-way through the procedure, with the former bellowing at them to stop all but the most necessary procedures to keep him from dying, as these wounds had been inflicted due to punishments that Lestra had somehow earned.

Quiet, obedient, dutiful Lestra. 

Lestra, who had some of the best scores of any of them when it came to marksmanship and tech-repair outside of the snipers and tech-marines.

Lestra, who murmured the prayers to Him on Terra most fervently, who delighted in aiding the Chaplains in any duties they asked of them, no matter how menial the task.

Lestra, who never questioned orders. Who tended to their weapons and armor with a patient reverence that bordered on nearly obsessive.

Lestra who, despite every effort that Cedric and the other Apothecaries were making, was once again dying, drowning in their own blood, as it filled their lungs faster than could be siphoned away. Whose blood loss was causing a cascade of effects that was shutting down their body. Lestra, whose body was rejecting the blood and fluids that they were trying to pump into them.

Lestra, who coughed wetly and grabbed Cedric with desperate, waning strength,pressingtheir forehead to his for several seconds before going limp, their hearts stopping.

Lestra, whose blood coated Cedric’s hands, arms and chest. Even after it had been washed away by an older Apothecary, when it had become clear that Cedric had locked up, unable to move.

“I failed them… Again.” Cedric muttered as he stared down at Lestra’s still warm body. Two of the Imperial Fist Apothecaries were preparing to open them up, to carve out the necessary organs that could be saved and reused. 

“Sometimes patients die, lad. Even though we do what we can to help them. They were in a bad way, lad. It was unlikely that they were going to survive. Do you know which chapter they belonged to?” One of the Imperial Fists asked, reaching out to try and touch Cedric.

Cedric flinched, stepping a half-step back not-trusting the touch to be painless. “Lestra, Primaris. Black Templars. They were… They were one of the first I -” found badly hurt. Before he… Before he knew what was going on. Before he knew which of his Firstborn brothers was beating them to the point of death. Not that he was fool enough to say that out loud where other firstborns could hear that. “The Bellasarian engine will explode if you try to remove it from their body, causing considerable damage, so leave it in place.”

“Ah… They were one of the first patients you lost? That’s always rough. Come on, lad. You can leave the grisly work of organ harvesting to the others.” Of all people, Captain Ash’val murmured.

Where had the salamander scout captain come from? He was no apothecary.

“But I… They need…” Cedric tried to find the words, his hearts bleeding and lungs seizing up. 

“The others will handle the organ removal. After that, Ramiel can guide their final rights, and you and the others can give them a final goodbye. Losing a patient is rough… Especially you’re first one, and I can’t imagine what losing your first patient twice must feel like.” Ash’val murmured, wrapping one arm around Cedric’s shoulders and steering him out of the operating room.

“But… But I was able to save Olivar… Why wasn’t I able to save Lestra? It’s not… It’s not fair!” Cedric managed out, trembling violently, though he did not resist Ash’val’s touch, nor his orders.

“Olivar’s wounds were less severe, and he was closer to treatment than LEstra. These things happen. You did your best, lad. That’s all we can ask of you.”

Cedric crumbled into Ash’val’s steady body, weeping until he passed out.

~

“Did you discover anything during the Autopsy, Zariel?” Ash’val, asked, his voice quiet, so as to not wake up the distraught young apothecary passed out in his arms, hours later.

“The lash-markings on Lestra’s body are consistent with the ones found on Ramiel and Olivar, when they were first brought in for treatment. As is the lichtenberg scarring and the way that the lightning claw wounds were on Ramiel’s and Lestra’s bodies. It’s likely that whoever went after our two surviving Primaris Black Templars was the one who killed Lestra.” Zariel dutifully reported to the Salamander.

Hura offered “Cedric was equally unsurprised to see the wounds upon Lestra, as he was on Olivar and Ramiel as well, which means he was likely one of the apothecaries who tended to the three of them in M42 before he and they were all brought here to Ancient Terra.” He was frowning as he watched the young apothecary in training sleep. “When I brought young Ramiel to view Lestra’s body, he was understandably distraught, but not surprised that they died, despite all efforts to save them.”

“You know… For as bad as they are at lying, they sure do seem to be keeping dark secrets and deep sorrows hidden in the deepest corners of their hearts.” Zariel murmured with a small frown.

“They correctly guessed the colors of your armor within weeks of living here. A feat most of the rest of the base has yet to discern.” Ash’val pointed out. “They may be young, but they are clever.”

Zariel huffed at that, looking away. “Point taken.”

“We should go, before Cedric awakens. Our presence will only confuse and worry him, given his recent trial.” Hura remarked, standing up a moment later and dragging Zariel out of his chair.

“Hey! I can walk on my own. Let me go, you giant bastard.” Zariel grumbled reluctantly allowing the Death Guard to manhandle him.