She crawled into bed a short time later, after tucking Eva in with a kiss and waving to Marcus. He was too old for tucking-in.
--
Meanwhile, Swith had left a note for Blossom explaining that she was invited on the trip. A copy of the will and a note were slid under Dora's door. She'd have to flag down a cultist if she wanted the knife set.
Swith returned to her apartment and reflected upon how quiet everything was. She ate dinner with the twins and settled them down to watch a movie before she headed down the hall to Thriller's old room to collect a few toys for them. This place was even more haunting than their apartment itself.
Swith let herself into the mech room and shut the door. She stood in the dark a while and just listened. A few bits of equipment were still running and she found it soothing. She reflected upon all the fun she'd had in that room, and the conversations shared with her husband. She found herself thinking of him and she sighed deeply. He was far away, in a different time and place and fighting a difficult war. She wondered if he was sleeping, and if he'd found a reason to laugh that day. She pondered his reasons for going, and agreed with everyone last one, but it wasn't easy with him being gone. He was her dearest friend, and her lover and her spouse. He completed her and grounded her to the mortal plain.
Swith had never been a military spouse or a human before. There wasn't exactly a support group for people in her situation or of her persuasion. There weren't any veteran Germanic Templar wives who could sit down over coffee with her and reassure her that her fears and longing were natural. She was following in their footsteps without really knowing it... keep the family running smoothly, make sure the kids are comfortable and adjusting, put on a strong face, and keep doing all the normal things in life that you'd do if your spouse were home. Continuity was key.
The light clicked on and bathed the room in brightness. She turned and faced the reality: his mech suit was indeed gone. Levi had obviously removed the cryotank as well. She picked up a rag and dusted the room for him then snapped the light off again and found two microbe toys for the twins.
They were nodding off by time she returned home. They tumbled into their beds without much protesting and fell asleep before Swith had finished their bedtime story.
Swith went to her own room and undressed. Ogoti's advice kept her from seeking shelter in a box. Instead, she curled up on the bed in her fennec fox form and snuggled down between the pillows. Only her large ears revealed her location and these remained perked in the hope that she'd hear the scrape of Thriller's key in the door lock sometime in the night.
--
Minerva's cigarette landed on the rooftop. The cherry died under her heel. She'd finished sifting through reports and giving orders. She was damn tired, and didn't feel much like doing anything other than sleeping. She stepped into the shadows and vanished.
AETEN II wrote:
Tipper was about to respond when it dawned on her that she hadn't actually felt any of Grandfather's cultists present. Did he have any in this time and place? She could sense the difference between Swith's and War's. She hadn't bumped into any of Tze's yet but they were there. Nothing Nurgley, however. Grandfather was weird. Yet...
"Volturius, you can't see them as I see them. You see with eyes that can see in the dark but you can't see the dark itself. If you look at the cultists with the blind eye, the third eye that sees the dark, you'd see grotesque mutations."
She lifted her chin to peer up at him. "When normal people from our time see a Chaos Space Marine, they assume Insanity. Astartes-demigod gone amok. They see your mutations and physique. They assume you'll immediately start tearing their entrails out while screaming for skulls or some rubbish like that. It wouldn't dawn on them, even for a moment, that you love your little Tipper. They wouldn't realize that you sleep upside down while cradling me in your arms. They'd never think in a million years that you're a tender and passionate lover. They'd think you were a mindless killing machine incapable of anything but murder. They'd be very wrong."
She sighed. She was getting off the topic, and that topic was more important than what she was babbling on about. "I'm sorry if I offended you with my suggestion about departure. I didn't mean to imply turning your back on that legacy. I meant departing from all the splits and rifts and odd-man-outs. Don't try to outdo the next generation. Be unique and embrace the source. The Primarch."
"Rise, my sons, and take your wrath across the stars, in my name. In my memory. Rise, my Night Lords." Isn't that what he said? It would be flattering to incorporate Slaanesh or some other thing into your Chapter, but aren't you a Night Lord? Isn't your purpose to make certain that memory doesn't grow stale?"
Tipper lowered her head. She realized she was probably offending Volturius on many levels but the little cultist knew next to nothing about these sorts of things. Most of the knowledge was rumor and she, being just a cultist, wasn't deemed worthy enough before to know the secrets of Astartes. Volturius was the first one who hadn't swiped at her in annoyance.
A single doubt pierced her heart and the tip broke off. I've failed him as a mate. She raised her head high again to prove to herself that it wasn't so, but her chin dropped once more. Tipper knew she was out of her league.
