#Chaplain OC

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Hasten to Church

Author's note: Ramiel's next chapter. Thank you @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow your OC Cedric. Thank you @kit-williams for letting me borrow your OCs Arnault and Roland. Thanks to @kit-williams for helping me with getting Roland and Arnault's voices right and Intense Bond Stuff.

Past =-= Next

Warnings: None that I can think of. Let me know if I need to add any.

Summary: Ramiel meets Roland and Arnault.

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

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k, @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual @thevoidscreams

Tagged continued: @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Cedric had come to Ramiel, eyes bright and happy and a smile of genuine joy on his face as he tells Ramiel that a couple of Very Important (personally) Black Templar brothers are in the area. Their names are Arnault and Roland, and they’ve taken Cedric under their wing a bit, nothing so formal as an Apprenticeship (neither of them are Apothecaries or Chaplains) but they are Battle Brothers, First Born Marines. 

Both of them are from After the Heresy, but before the Primaris Roll out. Ramiel’s Worried at first, but as Cedric explains more of what they are like and how they treat him, the knot of anxiety in his stomach slowly unclenches. As he hears about how they talk to, and with him, and feed him Bread- which is tasty and amazing. 

Ramiel was happy that Cedric seemed to be recovering from the near miss that had been his Mentor showing up at the base. albeit only briefly. They had been careful to hide away from where the honorable Chaplain Captain Petras was going to be.

Their luck had held out, by the grace of the God Emperor, and a potentially fraught meeting between Ramiel, Cedric and The Honorable Chaplain Captain Petras hadn't happened. Yet. There was still the terrifying possibility that he could come back, or that their older brothers and cousins in the base would plot that they'd have to meet him sometime soon. Which caused terror and dread to well within his hearts.

He shakes himself, mentally out of his funk, ramiel hasn’t had much of a chance to taste baseline human food, content with Nutri-paste. Ramiel’s in his armor, but he has his skull helmet- which denotes his specialty as a part of the Chaplaincy hooked on his belt as he follows after Cedric. 

“Brother Arnault, Brother Roland!” Cedric calls out, “One of my fellow Primaris brothers has come here recently. I’d like you to meet him.”

Ramiel comes into their view, just as large as Cedric is, seemingly a touch larger in his full armor, rather just in Apothecary scrubs. He nods to the elder brothers with a respectful nod. He eyes the two older Black Templars. 

Arnault has longer hair and is wearing a sword strapped to his side and is wearing fitted, nice quality clothing. While Roland is in civilian clothing, he’s the only one in armor. But… he doesn’t… feel comfortable outside of armor unless he’s asleep in the base. With Cedric or one of their fellow Primaris brother-cousins on watch.

He’s trying to learn to trust the First Born Space Marines that he’s now surrounded by on Ancient Terra. He’s careful to be polite and obedient, and to be quick about it. Not to question orders, but… personal trust is… his chest stings a little as his newly healed scars catch a little as he breathes. He wasn’t armed, more than a bolter that was carefully maintained and tucked on a thigh holster. 

“Elder brothers,” he says, eying the two of them assesingly. 

They both have the platinum blonde hair, fair skin, and piercing blue eyes of the Sons of Dorn. Arnault’s hair is longer than standard, but since Arnault’s an Elder Brother, it’s not his place to nit-pick his appearance, besides so long as it doesn’t inhibit his ability to fight, it’s not his place to say anything.

He’s not hiding his skull helmet, but it is tilted in a way that it’s harder to see the specific heraldry of a Chaplain. He’s learned on Ancient Terra that Chaplains (even ones as new in their path as him, inhabit a… certain place of responsibility for most chapters, not trained enough, which he’s not Authorized, not old enough, not good enough to inhabit, yet).

“It’s an honor to meet a couple of brother’s that Cedric cares for so much,” Ramiel continues to say. 

His new scars on his chest tingle a little, he ignores it, his armor has been repaired and buffed out. So while there are scratches in his armor. Hopefully they don’t notice that he’d been stabbed through the chest by a chain sword before coming to Ancient Terra.

Arnault eyes the new younger (and So Tall) little brother with assessing eyes. He’d been curious to see what Primars Marines in Armor look like. Ramiel looks taller, larger, and slightly younger than Cedric. His armor looks like he’s seen battle before. He’s got a similar quietness to him that Cedric has at times. He’s curious to see how sparring with this one will go, it helps him assess how his brothers and cousins are like to spar with. Even if they curse him out for his unique battle style.

“Hello there little,” He grins as he looks up into Ramiel’s eyes, “Brother, it’s nice to meet you.”

Ramiel’s ears go a little pink at that. Ah- he’s expressive, even if his face is impassive, his ears give away his emotions. Good to know. Roland notices something about his helmet that seems off for a normal battle brother.

“Do you have a Specialty as well, Ramiel?” Roland asks.

“Yes sir,” Ramiel says shifting a little, “I’m a Judicar.”

“What’s a Judicar?” Roland and Arnault ask. That’s not a title they’ve heard of. That sounds like some Future-bull shit.

“Ah- sorry sirs,” Ramiel says, ducking his head a little, his ears going bright red, “It’s something that came about due the Primaris Roll out. A title our older brothers and cousins give to those of us Primaris that have been chosen to start on the path of being Chaplains.”

Arnault seems to have stepped back a little at that, while Roland cocks his head and steps forward a little bit. “Have you been in contact with other Black Templars besides us yet, Ramiel?”

“No sirs, I was found by Imperial Fists and Salamanders.” Ramiel says, tilting his head a little. Their reactions to his speciality seems… Interesting. “Besides Cedric, you two are the first Black Templar’s I’ve met since coming to Ancient Terra.”

He notices that Arnault’s shoulders shift down a little, he wonders what it was that had his elder brother so wary when he’d realized the path of Ramiel’s education had gone. He can tell by the set of their shoulders that they seem a bit Excited about something. He’d learned early to read even the smallest of signs and movements of his elder brothers for their emotional reactions. Especially if it was his Mentor.

He wrenches his thoughts away from the Honorable Veteran Chaplain Captain Mephisteil Petras. He’s… he should focus on Cedric, Ramiel and Arnault. They are in front of him. That… that person is… is he focuses on what Elder Brother Arnault is saying, keeping his thoughts from going down his past.

He keeps his Tempormortis with him, tucked on his belt, carefully maintained. Not that he’s explained what it is to anyone who doesn’t already know what it is. Partly because he’s concerned if the Elder Cousins in the base he works at will allow him to keep it or not. It’s part of his equipment, and Very Important part of his Judicar armor. 

Cedric and his fellow Primaris Marines (and those First Born Brothers and Cousins) who are from M42 know what it is and what it can do. He’s earned some beads for his Rosarius, but not a full ring. He knows that he won’t be able to earn more on Ancient Terra (because they don’t have the supplies to make it).

“It’s nice to meet you, sirs,” Ramiel says to Arnault and Roland.

Roland and Arnault seem amused as Roland says in one of the local languages, “I think it’s a trend among our Future Little Brothers to be Polite. Far more than you deserve, Arnault.”

Arnault punches him for it, and he slugs him back. Ramiel and Cedric blinking at them, tilting their heads a little at their communication. Roland switches back to High Gothic, he’d a gift of bread when he’d heard that they were meeting another Primaris Black Templar younger brother. His backerin had happily made him more bread as gifts for his brothers. Even for Arnault, although the other hardly deserved some.

He hands over the bread, Cedric perking up and starting to eat the bread. Ramiel carefully takes it and stares at it and then back at him. Carefully holding the bread. He had the same look Cedric had.

“It’s bread, you eat it.” He says watching the younger brother take a bite at his ‘command’. 

“Thank you for the bread, it tastes really good,” Ramiel says after a few bites of the soft, delicious food. He’s not had something so good in his life.

“You’re welcome, my Backerin, made it,” Roland replies faux-casually.

Both Elder Black Templars are watching the young Chaplain with sharp eyes. 

“Backerin?” Ramiel asks quietly.

“My bonded human,” Roland admits, bracing himself. Arnault is also watching this interaction very carefully.

“I’ve got one as well,” Arnault says, his voice going… slightly strange, almost… Defiant, no- he seems more wary, than anything, or bracing set to his shoulders. To both them, if he’s reading them right. They seem to be… waiting for something.

They had both noticed that Ramiel hadn’t reacted poorly to Arnault’s name. But it might be due to needing time to realize who Arnault was. Most Chaplains, at least among the Black Templar warbands, know what he did and why he’s exiled from the Black Templar’s bands. At least most of them.

“Are you happy?” Ramiel asks him with earnest large blue eyes.”I’ve heard that other First Born cousins are happy with having a Bonded human.”

While he’s uncomfortable with how The Warp is a large part of how these Bonds with humans are formed. So long as they aren’t Heretics, Traitors, or Renegades. So long as the human and the Astartes are Happy, healthy and it doesn’t seem to be hurting them. He… won’t say anything negative about it. After all, as a Judicar, it’s not his place to judge, merely listen and comfort as needed. Through his actions he shows his faith and encourages his brothers and cousins. 

Arnault’s face becomes animated and expressive, his eyes fog over with warm emotions as his lips curl into a dreamy smile as no longer seems to be seeing or looking at Cedric or Ramiel at the moment, memories of his beloved Angela filling his mind. “Oh, Ja, I am the happiest I’ve been in such a long time with mine Quilterin.”

Ramiel and Cedric look at each other and then back at their love struck older brothers. Roland speaks up next, his expression is almost exactly as luck struck and dreamy as he lets out a bark of laugh and a most joyful, large smile as he excitedly responds to Ramiel’s question with, “Oh- Ja! Wunderbar! Bakerin makes me the happiest man in this world or any other.”

Ramiel is taken off guard a little at the strength of emotions that they show. But he’s willing to listen. He’s listened to other First Born cousins talk about their bond. Their reactions haven’t been as strong as Roland or Arnault’s. That is something to monitor, and he’ll speak with one of the Imperial Fist or Salamander Chaplains.

“I’ve heard a little bit about these… Bonds,” Ramiel starts hesitantly, “but no one seems to really explain them. Other than it’s ‘warp made’ or something.”

“Also that you will know if you get bonded,” Cedric says, “And that it will happen.”

Both of them are more than a little nervous and uncertain about these Bond Things. A lot of older cousins seem to like or want them. Some are not so eager to be bonded. It seems a Strange thing.  

Ramiel doesn’t think he wants to seek out a bond, but he’s heard stories about what happens, helped those who were trying to Reject Bonds and give consul as they Suffered. Also- called in Cedric as their physical ailments grew worse and his alarm had grown.

Arnault speaks up, his voice has a dreamy quality to it, his mind still not fully in the conversation, his ears are a bright red as he says, “They are wonderful things to have.”

Roland seems to come back to himself shaking his head a little, his ears are also red, but it’s fading a bit as he continues the thread of conversation, “They are nothing scary.”

He is firm on this, as he can tell they are both Concerned about The Bonds. “But they are… warp based. That much we have been able to determine. It all depends on the strength of the Bond. Some can be… Broken, others are not.”

Roland looks towards Arnault, rolling his eyes as he realizes that Arnault’s still Lost in Love and continues to speak, his eyes glazing over for a moment or two as a smile reappears on his face, “Arnault and I could not break our current bonds. Indeed I wouldn’t want to.”

He seems to recover as he snaps out of his thoughts and he punches Arnault’s left shoulder to help snap him out of the Fog of Love the other was happily immersed in.

“Ja, You will know when it happens,” Arnault punches him back just as hard as he clears his throat, ignoring how much his ears are burning, “It’s a feeling that you get deep in your chest, right where you feel your soul rests. I would not suggest trying to break a bond.”

Arnault grimaces as he lightly touches that place, remembering the pain coloring his words and serious look in his eyes as he looks to Cedric and Ramiel. “It’s painful and well.. We’re unsure if the human also gets hurt if we break it like an Astartes does.”

Roland winces a little, he’s heard about the mess that can be his fellow Black Templar’s reaction to Bonds with humans. Arnault continues to speak, “I had gotten so sick trying to break my bond with Angela, ‘til I came back to her. I got better instantly.”

Ramiel and Cedric’s eyes go wide with surprise. They hadn’t realized just how important and potentially life altering the Bonds are for Astartes. It’s information that they are glad to know. And will keep both of their older brother’s words in mind. Also- they are going to warn Catius, Jophiel, and Claude so that they won't be doing something potentially life threatening in their panic, to themselves or potentially to an innocent human.

Arnault and Roland had come to the silent agreement that they wouldn’t talk about what other Black Templars viewed their Bonds with their humans, and how they’ve basically been exiled for having Tethered Bonds, one that a certain Chaplain Captain had sneered at them as having ‘slaaneshi-disgusting bonds’ with their humans. 

That curdled a spark of Rage in Roland as that Chaplain Captain Punk ass, no, Pol-ass… it might be Petras or something. He was particularly hard on Black Templars who formed a bond, and pushed for them breaking it. Also he didn’t seem to care if the Black Templar suffered for trying to break the bond.

He knows that Arnault’s had difficulties with that particular Chaplain in the past, who seems to delight in ensuring that both of their reputations, especially Arnault’s is Not Good, especially among as many of the Chaplains of the Black Templars as he can find on Ancient Terra. 

He’s glad to have Cedric and Ramiel around, it’s been… terribly lonely, not being among a Crusade of brothers. Sure the Imperial Fists are similar, it's not the same. He wonders if Ramiel would be willing to lead Vespers. It would be nice to have a Black Templar Chaplain (even an Apprentice) lead one for a change.

While Roland and Arnault have occasionally met a friendly to neutral Black Templar Chaplain, it didn’t tend to last once they learned of their bonds, and how strong they are. Also, somehow Petras found out and would … ensure those Chaplains were no longer so friendly to them. Neither of them have any idea what Petras is being such a hard ass about bonds.

[boredguitarfish]

Dude literally died and still had to get back to work.

Featuring my deathwatch Blackshield chaplain Koritan (formerly astral claws) and one of his future pathways, as a chaplain dread.

[sunsetlobster]

"Who is this man I see in my misty reflection?"

A piece of my Night lord Warp Priest, Beegee having a little moment of half hearted introspection

[nerozerox]

A Badass commission of Eternal Watch Guild master for the awsome Akumathedrip ! i try to have bit more fun with the effect for this one XD

[gay-poet-gabriel]

drew my stupid oc while i was away

[felinisnoctis]

An Elder and a Chaplain

Tags: @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for Nanael. Other tags @egrets-not-regrets @nightshade-victorian @legionsofthehungry @kit-williams @sleepyfan-blog

Warnings: References to past trauma

Alternate Title: Nanael finally gets a hug.

Nanel was stalking through the woods, tracking a herd of deer, when he stumbled upon an altar.  Startled and suspicious, he stopped to examine it.  It was carved from what looked like an old tree stump, into an imperial aquila on the top and a blood drop design running down the side.  The altar had been carefully stained with natural dyes; fresh flowers rested off to one side while the other held a bowl with remains of dried blood inside it.  Well, whoever it belonged to, it wasn’t another chaos bastard.  That was a good sign.  He looked around the area a little more.  There was a shelter off to the side - he’d almost missed it the first time because it was built against a hillside and covered over with leaves and brush.  He vaguely recalled they’d been taught to do that if they ever needed long term insulation.  It could be oddly cozy.

Curious, he found the door and knocked.  He heard someone get up before the door was opened by a visibly old Astartes.  The stranger wore no armor but had a sniper rifle slung over his back, as well as a pistol and dagger at his hips.

“Excuse, me, sir, but, I saw your base and, well, there’s some chaos patrols in the area and I was wondering if I could come in?” Nanael asked the strange marine.  “My name’s Nanael.”

“Job.  There’s a basket of nuts by the fire that need to be sorted and shelled,” Job gestures to a fire at the back of the hut, carefully set so the smoke filtered out and disappated along the hillside.  Nanael ducked through the door and settled down on the floor, throwing the rotten nuts into the fire and shelling the good ones.

“My husband will be back from hunting in a bit,” he adds as Nanael settles down.  Job has a basket of dried grass that he’s twisting into twine for nets.  There’s a pot warming by the fire with some sort of stew that smells strongly of onions, and a couple of rough pelts laid out over top of a pile of leaves to form an ample bed for a pair of astartes.  Other than that there were a few carved eating utensils, several woven snare traps, and a set of bone needles and crochet hooks.  In fact there was very little evidence of anything beyond primitive other than the weapons Job wore.  Had he not been in contact with other astartes on Terra before this?

Just as Nanael was thinking that the door opened.  Nanael snapped up and to attention on instinct as he saw the armor.  Lamenter yellow with the skull helmet of a chaplain.  “Chaplain sir!” He thought for a moment the older brother might be primaris himself from his size, but dismissed that after watching the older marine move.

“At ease, little brother.  My armor is for fighting brambles today anyway.  Sit down and tell me how you came here.”  The chaplain removed his helmet.  “I go by Chaplain Malachai, may I have your name?”

“Apprentice-Librarian Nanael sir!” Nanael snapped out before sitting down as ordered and beginning to tell the story.  How he fell trying to fight off a xeno attack and woke up on a strange planet.  How - he hesitates for a moment before going on into the story - how a vision of their Lord Father Sanguinius came to him before he woke up.  How he had died at the hands of that foul chaplain, and then woken up and fallen into the clutches of a chaos warband.  How his rescuers had chased him away for being bad luck.  He’s not sure how, but at the end of the story he realizes he’s no longer sitting up, but leaning into his older brother’s armor and sobbing. 

“I…Sorry sir! I didn’t mean to be disrespectful sir!” he stammers out as he realizes what position he’s in.  

“It’s not a sin to seek comfort from a brother,” Chaplain Malachai tells him, tugging him in as Nanael collapsed onto his chest.  “You were brought here and spared for a purpose, clearly.  I do not know what it is yet but you must keep your faith strong.  And your body - so how about you share our dinner and then we can talk more?”

Nanael nodded obediently.  He’s been so tense since coming to ancient Terra.  Somehow his elder brother-chaplain got him to relax as he accepted a bowl of the stew.  He ate quietly and followed his older brother out to check the snares and help skin and cut the game, the meat and bones going into the ever-boiling pot on the fire.  He helped Job mend some of the snares that were getting too warm before collapsing into a deep sleep on a pile of furs in the corner.

Job looked over at him and shook his head quietly before curling up next to Malachai and going to sleep. If the young one's story was true there was hunting to be done.

[chattycattycal]

✨The Sugarplum Fairy and The Nutcracker✨

My Jess and the ever delightful Brandie (who belongs to @sicc-nasti) I care them so much.

[taryn40k]

As the Titan approaches Mars, Morgen has to figure out how to present his "chapter", in the frame of the Codex Astartes ; because they can't exactly afford to say they are not Codex-Compliant, given their origins... So there are a lot of last minute promotions to throw around! And of course, the younger brothers want to be included! :D When is a better time to try to grab the title of Captain of their favorite Companies? :D Their Deathwatch contact is going to have a very interesting list on his hand, with a total of two captains, a chapter master and a senior apothecary, all volunteering for a long vigil! (cause : oh god our genefather did WHAT we are so sorry!!! Send us where you need us!)

[kit-williams]

Azazel rework: Sick Thoughts

The dreaded Azazel rework this is also probably going to be a multiple part thing for him. Azazel was one of the first boys I wrote about and compared to the others his was the weakest and also personality wise he was lacking. I had felt no real love for him Sooooooo he got an update. With a much better personality that will actually allow him to stand up with the rest of the boys and make him a unique yandere/character.

Tag List: @thevoidscreams @barn-anon @bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty

@bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

Dramatis Personae

Dark Angel Chaplain Azazel Erros (Ah-zay-zell is how I pronounce it)

Imperial Guardswoman: Lilith "Puppy" Morningstar - long raven hair, olive skin tone (think Italy or Spain), bright Hazel eyes, athletic build but still feminine, hair is kept in a military style bun.

Azazel Erros sat in the back of the tank, right by the rear door, ready for any ill fate that would befall him and his temporary companions. His eyes scanned the bodies in the back... the way they all pressed up against each other like rabbits in a warren to keep warmth and he was a fox that had managed to squeeze himself in there... it reminded him of an old tale his mother had told him of anthropomorphized animals overcoming their nature to be better. Regardless they had picked up Azazel not long after he had given his dead brothers their last rites.

He remembers the way the tank rolled up and it was her voice and her shy temping smile that greeted his eyes out from under that flak helmet. They too had met an ill fate like he and his battle brothers had... their transport having been shot down and this small group was the survivors fighting their way back to the front, like good mortal troops.

His enhanced eyes focused on the movement in the corner as they called her a puppy but he saw through her guise of being a snake. He watched her rifle through the bag that they found in the middle of nowhere, full of useless expensive baubles, hardly worth a second look in his opinion. However, he watched how her the green in her hazel eyes glittered in the sunlight as she claimed ownership over what no one else wanted.

Azazel saw the smiles on their lips as she looked so happy at her spoils. But now he was watching her tucked away by the tank shells in her claimed dark space in the womb of the tank... he watched her face light up by a weak light. The small bit of light allowed his eyes to see the color of her face and other small details with his enhanced sight, she looked around like a sinner in church making sure no one was bothered by her light... and then the small giddy smile that graced her lips and the way the light danced in the green flecks of her brown eyes.

Frivolous nonsense, he thought as she made faces in the small mirror and preened at her appearance. It reminded him of the few unfortunate run-ins he had with the nobility... always fawning over themselves. Azazel should have returned to a meditative prayer but his eyes focused in on the small tube of lip paint... it was a ripe red color... it reminded him of a fruit and it made his tongue move in anticipation at the juice of it meeting his own. He watched Puppy apply it precisely to her bottom lip in the trundling vehicle. Azazel watched as she pulled her lips in, over her teeth, rubbing her lips together... he heard the soft pop of her lips parting. The soft smile on her lips as she now had the lip paint on her top lip.

Azazel felt his breathing hitch for a moment... the breath tightening in his chest... he was holding it in... as his eyes locked onto how full her red lips looked. How she was unaware of his voyeuristic watching, him a Dark Angel's Chaplain, the way she pursed them and touched up a spot to make sure her upper lip was the same red as her bottom. She turned her head from side to side, continuing to purse her lips occasionally, as he could tell she was enamored with the red of her lips.

Azazel tried to let out the breath he was holding as she grabbed one of the artillery shells and his mouth opened slightly, hidden by the skull mask of his helm, as she kissed the cold metal making an audile muwah noise... no doubt leaving behind a red colored impression of her lips on the metal. His mind drifts back to one of those unfortunate moments he had to meet nobility... the way the man had those same sorts of impressions upon his skin and clothes and the scent of an unknown female. The amorous evidence of lustful inhibitions... he watches her smile at her work as she puts the shell back. Azazel is certain that the red of her lip paint would leave a mark on his skin... leaving a trail of them behind on his flesh... as her mouth trails down his body... leaving her marks.

Azazel blinks and softly grunts and moves slightly as he breaks himself out of these thoughts. He ignored the discomfort between his legs... banishing her from his thoughts though failing as his eyes looked over to her and could see how she looked over at him, the small light closed up, with a guilty look on her face... like a sinner. The look that tells him that she acts as if she did something wrong... something she wasn't allowed to do.

She waits watching him with those big eyes of hers like some small cat hiding in the dark. She soon pulls out the light again and returns to preening herself in her dark corner and Azazel licks his teeth as he watches. He watches her adjust how she sits... how she curves her spine in a posture he only knows being called "sitting pretty". He remembers hearing guardsmen talk about the harlots seeking their thrones. He remembers watching how they would advertise themselves without saying a word to the men... pure body language between the two parties so that no one was "soliciting" and no one was being "solicited" out in the open anyway. He wasn't uneducated at why he wanted to have her nor how he wanted to have her... he most certainly wanted her to sit like that in his lap and feel what she was causing. Would the little temptress play coy? Feigning her innocence and trying to act all puppy-like? He bit his bottom lip as he focused on how she brushed something powdery on her cheekbones.

She batted her lashes at herself in her small mirror but for Azazel, it could have easily been to him... he was waiting for her signature wink to him whenever she was attempting to flirt with him. He wasn't dumb to her attempts as she would try and his reply was to ignore her or if she was unlucky she would be reprimanded by her superior and would return to her professional demeanor. But, oh! How he could tell she was trying to coil around him... unable to stop herself from making such overly flirtatious advances. I'm sorry about Puppy... she's overly friendly... Her superior had told him in private after one of her attempts had fallen flat. She was too sweet for her own good... getting too familiar with others too quickly... she was clearly a risk... and Azazel knew what dangers she was unknowingly courting.

"Why are you here?" Azazel remembers asking her when they had finally gotten a moment alone together... those moments were few and thankfully regretfully far between Her hazel eyes looked over at him as he watched her throat bob as she drank from her canteen.

"My Lord?" She looked up at him and he could hear the simple accent she did her best to hide, but her eyes spoke of confusion and he watched her lick her lips nervously when he did not reply, "To serve the Imperium." It was at that moment that Azazel was thankful that guard uniforms turned the wearer into an androgynous blob of pockets and flak armor plates.

"You are unlike many I've worked with." He probes gently knowing he doesn't have to push too hard to get her to say something she shouldn't.

"Oh." She said in a way that Azazel couldn't read if it was disappointment or surprise but either way, he still got what he wanted when she opened her mouth again, "Well it was this or sex work." She says with a shrug as she gives him a harlot's grin at her confession to the Chaplain. Oh how often she bit her tongue wanting to add more like the harlot she was... unable to keep quiet for her own good and always eager to gossip confess to an ear willing to listen and give her attention beyond asking what her prices were. However, those cheeky comments always involved some sort of implication of her willing to try and bed him... to be a sort of relief.

He exhaled hard within his helm as he knew how if he was younger, long before he was a Brother Chaplain, he would have and at times did jump at such opportunities. Tasting and partaking in some sins firsthand... and he used the knowledge he gained when he repented and became a Brother Chaplain. Yes, his younger and wilder ways had been repented for... that was before he met her... he had been free of temptation for so long! But again... when this Puppy smiled at him and let her flirtatious tongue waggle at him. Azazel was frustrated at the fact that he was suddenly feeling such a stirring in his loins by her. Other women of higher station had equally been as stupidly bold as her but it was only her that was getting such a reaction from him!

Even though his eyes were closed for those moments lost in memory to ignore his desire and to try and reign his mind back in to continue to focus on prayers. It was his preternatural senses that told him that someone was in his space. His eye lenses were dark so it wasn't a stretch for them to mistake it as him sleeping. When his eyes opened he could see her right there. He watched the way her eyes darted over his faceplate... as she was leaning in to see under his hood.

The brief panic in her eyes as a hard jolt nearly makes her lose her footing and send her crashing into his lap... but unfortunately she recovers. He hears her soft exhale of relief, his smile on his lips as it's unfortunate how he watched her make a fool of herself all the same. She crouches beside him hugging her knees as she looks over his rosarius beads and other visible trinkets tied to him... I could kill her... he thinks to himself... be rid of these wicked temptations from this snake. But, lo! How being so close... he could see how her lips were painted such a deep red color... like the skin of an apple.

His throat felt tight as he suddenly desired her to be foolishly brave. To watch her climb into his lap and leave a deep red mark upon his armor... or perhaps she would be bold enough to leave such a mark on the off-white cloth of his hood... batting her eyelashes and feigning how it got there... or maybe she would save them the scandal of their dalliance being exposed by hiding it in the hollow of his throat. How he stared at her eyes staring up at him as once again she was looking at his faceplate... kneeling beside him... his discomfort had yet to go away... would she be lurid enough to leave markings smeared across the skin of his stomach and smeared around his-

Azazel bit back a frustrated noise as he forcibly stopped those thoughts as she walked away and he could no longer see her plump bottom lip. Azazel would need to, at the very least, require the attention of a serf when he returned to the rest of his brothers. Being away from her should be enough to fix it...

He tries not to think about the next morning during their morning meal the spots of lipstick she had missed wiping off... and the faded blush on her cheeks... he tries not to think about her pressing a kiss... to the hollow of his throat like a wilting maiden... he hardly notices the way she starts to eat up his thoughts... God Emperor help him.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Rising

Previous =-= Next

Author's note: Ramiel in Husbandry. Thanks to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Ash'val and Cedric.

Warnings: None that I can think of ? Let me know if I need to add any warnings....

Summary: Ramiel is Hunting Traitor bastards down- and gets stopped by a Salamander Captain. He is. Confused.

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

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k

Ramiel had been chasing after the cowardly Chaos Traitor bastards, out of the forest, and into a suburban area, they were swearing at him and while he suspects they may be leading him to a trap or where more of their ilk may be lying in wait to harm him.

He will do his duty and kill as many of this bastards as he can before falling. For it is his duty to die for the glory of the God Emperor and to protect humanity until his death. He hears a voice call out to him and he slows down and tilts his helmet to the side and spots a Salamander Captain calling out to him and he slows down to a halt, snapping to attention.

Even as he feels the adrenaline flowing through his body as he almost vibrates with the need to continue moving- to hunt after the traitors.

"Steady there, little cousin," Captain Ash'val says half ordering, half calming the Large- hm… In armor he's larger than Cedric, likely out of it he's the same size.

Ah- another Primaris Black Templar. This one with full kit. Oh dear. At least there aren't any Black Templars nearby with vox for him to call and bring the wrath of that overzealous and rigid Chapter down on the heads of Chaos and Loyalists alike. Ash'val explains where and when he is.

As well as how he's not supposed to slay, or harass Renegade and Chaos Astartes, to which he rears back a little in alarm, due to the treaty that they have in place between the larger war bands and chapters that have come together upon this most Holy places, Ancient Terra, long before humanity has reached for the stars and settled upon other planets.

"But… heretics?" Ramiel says tilting his head to the side, unintentionally looking like a confused pup.

"Yes, but there are so few of us that fighting amongst ourselves isn't feasible," Ash'val says as he slowly guides the other to Imperial Fist and Salamander base. "You will need to be checked out by an Apothecary to see how well you are doing and what you might need for healing. I see that a sword had gone through your armor and body."

Ramiel can't stop the way he flinches and curls in on himself as he remembers the wound that he had thought would kill him. One of his hands going up to his chest where the dried blood was. He follows after Captain Ash'val he hears what the other is saying, but the words flow through one ear and out the other without making much of an impact.

he makes the appropriate noises as prompted, and he'll be able to recall the words the other has spoken and be able to comprehend them better later. He also started recording Ash'val as he realized he'd started going into that numb state where all he could do was move in the direction that he was ordered to go to silently. For if he made a noise he'd not be able to stop screaming. Or Crying. And neither option was good, First Born Brothers did not like such ridiculous antics.

His mentor the Honorable Veteran Chaplain Captain Mephisteil Petras was quite firm on what was Appropriate and Inappropriate behavior, even for such creatures as he was. He sits in the waiting area of the medbay quietly waiting to be tended to. The Apothecary on Triage heads over to him and almost seems to do a double take when they realize which Chapter he's of and he answers the questions they ask him through numb, hazy lips, hoping that he neither stutters nor speaks to fast or slow.

Or too loud or too quietly. He's not actively dying and he's not in much pain, Captain Ash'val says that he's to be processed as new arrivals are to be, so he's not an acute case. He can wait. The Ultramarine First Born peers down at him for a moment or two before heading off. A

nd he … drifts even as he remains in his body, carefully, slowly breathing in and out. He hears a familiar voice call out and he gets up. Ramiel blinks and suddenly he's clinging to Cedric and his helmet's off... How? When did that happen. They are in an exam room and he feels something drip down his cheeks and he doesn't point out to Cedric that his Apothecary Brother is silently crying.

Cedric's got a soft heart, besides Cedric is doing his duties as an Apothecary and it's just the two of them, so Ramiel doesn't have to say anything, so he won't. He never wanted to be one of the hands that punished his brothers, but by the commands of his mentor the Honorable Veteran Chaplain Captain Mephisteil Petras, he had to, or worse things would happen and make him wish he'd obeyed promptly.

"Are we both dead, then?" Ramiel says to Cedric, after the check up is over tilting his head inquisitively to Cedric. "after all, I thought the Honorable Veteran Chaplain Captain Mephisteil Petras would be… wise enough not to piss off your mentor. Not after what your mentor said he'd do to others if they tried to harm you."

Cedric reiterates what Captain Ash'val said about them being on Ancient Terra… and how as far as anyone can tell they are all still alive. Just here and not where they were before. Cedric's eyes flicker and he hesitates before telling Ramiel that his mentor, the Honorable Veteran Chaplain Captain Mephisteil Petras had been punished.

As had those who'd sided with him when their Chapter Master put his foot down and declared that the Primaris Marines aren't Heretical and/or Abominations to be purged. And who had decided to challenge, and fail and suffer the consequences (death) for doing so. He's quite surprised that his mentor, the Honorable Veteran Chaplain Captain Mephisteil Petras had been one of the ones to challenge, and fail to win.

[boredguitarfish]

Brother Damocle, black shield chaplain of the Deathwatch at Watch Fortress Erioch.

Formerly a vanguard veteran of the Astral Claw chapter, under the name of Koritan, he was inducted into the rank of deathwatch chaplains after a near standard century of service and apprenticeship in the Long Vigil at Eye of Damocles. Astral Claw called for his return prior to the start of Badab war, yet the message was lost through the layers of bureaucracy of the Inquision, and only reached the watch station after the initiation of the war. Koritan was immediately seized by the inquisition and was placed under intense interrogation and scrutinization due to his apparent connection with his former chapter, which was proven unnecessary as he ended up in the deathwatch predominately due to his disdain towards Huron. After his name was cleared, the chaplain rescinded all his previous connections, including his name given to him by his former chapter.

He requested the removal of his details and a transfer to other watch fortresses, which was granted. Now with the status of a black shield and adopting the name of his former watch fortress, Damocle rejoined his brothers in the deathwatch with unprecedented ferocity.

N.B. The character is extensively scarred with his jaw replaced with metal work, akin to the chaplain’s death mask’s mandible. He is a veteran to start with, and harbors a furious eager and self destructive passion in battle for the shame of his former chapter.

[itsfridayiminlove2007]

Ok i started watching a gameplay video of chapter 4 . ohmygawd church *SKIPS AND JUMPS AND PLAYS*

[owoiwonderwhatsthis]

We gettin’ sloppy on a sunday morning bay-bee!

[nereidof40k]

Do tell me if this is too fucked up. I have put it under a cut.

Contains Nimue’s disregard for the Geneva Convention, interrogation, blood and torture.

She steps into the interrogation chamber, face carefully neutral. First impressions do matter.

The bloodied, sleep deprived, bruised man inside laughs “They let children play at interrogation now? What are you going to do? Smile me to death?”

The serene, calm expression on her face doesn’t waver in the slightest as she chirps at him. “I have here a big vat of the blood of your battle brothers. Guess what I’m going to do with it?”

He just smirks. “I’m Astartes. Blood does not frighten me.”

At a gesture from her, the assistants tilt the table he’s strapped to, as she drops a square of cloth on his face.

Then she tips the vat, pouring the blood and tears on his face.

Making him struggle and choke, muffled noises of utter pain coming from his throat.

Listening to his heartbeat, making sure to stop before he injures himself too much.

“What do you know, you can waterboard someone with blood.” She chuckles.

“You’re insane.” He spits as they remove the cloth for the moment.

Nimue spins her crozius and hums. Behind her she can hear Asmodai’s footsteps. He must be feeling brave today.

“Get me away from her and I’ll tell you everything you want!” The captive spits. Looking at the tense Asmodai.

Nimue pats Asmodai’s arm. “Have fun!” She chirps, stepping out of the room again.

Taking a deep breath as she walks, her voice back to normal as she greets a passing Dark Angel.

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

i am once again debating changing estrel's name and title

[iii-days-grace]

i've kinda created characters to play with when i want to ramble about different genres, haha