Previously, he would have simply asked his brother Fulgrim for advice in this matter, but that wasn't an option any longer. Now, as he glared at his reflection, Sanguinius resented Horus and his rebellion more than ever. For no matter what he did, the Blood Angels Primarch simply couldn't get his eyeliner on right.
 |
| *This is IMPOSSIBLE, shouts Sanguinius* |
Rogal Dorn sits on the other side of the chamber, intently reassembling his bolter for the thousandth time in as many minutes.
Sanguinius turns to him.
'Brother Rogal,' he inquires, 'how do I look?'
The Imperial Fist Primarch does not even look up as he slides a clip of ammunition into place with well practiced ease.
'Like a woman,' the grim warrior replies immediately.
Sanguinius visibility chafes at this, the feathers of his mighty wings ruffling a bit. Deeply preoccupied disassembling his bolter again, Dorn doesn't notice.
'Really, brother,' says Sanguinius testily, 'you didn't even look. I think I look fabulous.'
'You would think that,' scoffs Rogal Dorn, 'but really, brother, perhaps you should think of dropping the cape, at least. It may well tangle up your wings at some critical moment during battle.'
'It's not a cape,' responds Sanguinius, 'it's a cloak. Only Konrad wears a cape, and we all know he has swooping issues. He loves to swoop.'
Rogal Dorn ceases his bolter ministrations for a moment, and appears to muse.
'Our Night Lord brother is quite the swooper,' he says thoughtfully, 'but perhaps his obsession with heroes from times prior the age of strife has affected him, much as your obsession to appear sexually ambiguous affects you.'
*Clearly, Konrad Curze has some issues. He does swoop magnificently, however*
'Yawn, brother Rogal,' pouts Sanguinius, 'you're starting to sound as dour and boring as Roboute Guilliman, with all that tiresome talk of that book he's writing. He'll never find a publisher, you know.'
'The book is fine,' grunts Dorn, 'it's the title that needs work. The Big Book of Rules For Everything Imperial just doesn't have a good ring to it. He'll come up with something.'
Sanguinius has his doubts, but stays mum on the matter.
Suddenly, the room fills with light. A light so pure the even the two genetically enhanced super beings shield their genetically enhanced super eyes.
A voice booms out of the light.
'MY SONS. DO YOU STAND READY?'
Both Primarchs immediately drop to one knee. Sanguinius answers first.
'Nearly, father. I just need five minutes...to, uh....'
Rogal Dorn interrupts him. 'We stand ready, father. I must warn you again, however- this may well be a trap. Horus has dropped the shields on his flagship to lure us in.'
The light seems to coalesce and take form. The form of a man, but much, much more than just a mere man. More imposing than even the two mighty primarchs, a figure stands before them. The figure of a deity, perhaps a god...
The Emperor of Mankind.
'Nonsense,' says the Emperor, 'Horus is just acting out. Here's the plan- we teleport up to the bridge of his battle barge, and we hug this out.'
*To Horus, from Dad*'After that,' continues the Emperor, 'we lickety-split back here for s'mores and Monopoly night! What could possibly go wrong?''
Sanguinius claps. 'Yay! Monopoly night! I wanna be the hat! Or maybe the dog, or...'
Once again Dorn interrupts. 'Father, I implore you to reconsider. The infernal Gods of Chaos have corrupted brother Horus beyond any hope of redemption. The Warp has given him powers to rival your own, perhaps. Furthermore,' adds Dorn with a glare towards Sanguinius, 'I'm the hat. I'm always the hat.'
The Blood Angels Primarch sticks out his tongue. 'Whatever. I'll still get s'mores,' he mutters, 'S'mores are num nums.'
The Emperor waves a dismissive hand. 'Oh, pshaw,' he responds, 'now, if you're quite done bickering, and playing with your weapons and makeup, we should head to the teleporter.'
The Blood Angel and the Imperial Fist share a somewhat guilty glance.
'Fine,' says Sanguinius, as he takes a last look in he mirror and sighs, 'I call dibs on the dog, though.'
Scant moments later, the two Primarchs and the Emperor of Mankind step through a door of light....
Sanguinius finds himself alone. Some quirk in the teleportation device seems to have separated him from his brother and father, and their Custodes and Terminator escorts, as well.
Well, what can one expect from the Priests of Mars, he thinks, they still can't manufacture plasma weapons that don't blow up in one's hands, after all...though they did claim the problem would be fixed soon. Like, any day now.
He looks around, and attempts to get his bearings, but he is surrounded by darkness not even his genetically enhanced super eyes can pierce.
'Welcome, brother Sanguinius,' comes a deep, authoritative voice which the Blood Angel Primarch immediately recognizes.
'Horus!' exclaims Sanguinius, 'thank goodness I've found you. Your brother Rogal and I have accompanied our father here, and we've come to ask you to cease this silly rebellion, and come home for Monopoly night. And s'mores. Delicious, melty s'mores.'
There is a pause, after which Horus replies, 'Fine. As long as I get to be the dog. I'm always the dog.'
Sanguinius prepares his argument (he will be the dog, this time), and flaps toward the voice. His cloak tangles in his wings, and he falls awkwardly. Horus sees this with his warp enhanced vision, and goes to aid his brother by catching him.
Unfortunately for the Blood Angels Primarch, one of Horus' hands is adorned with the aptly named 'Claw of Horus,' and he ends up impaling Sanguinius upon it as the winged Primarch crashes into him.
*Leopard print probably wasn't the best idea anyway*Horus gazes sadly down upon the body of his brother.
How did this all go so wrong, he wonders, how did he end up here? Stupid Erebus. Why did he ever listen to that guy? His reverie is broken by the accusatory voice of his father.
'HORUS! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?'
Well now, thinks Horus, this is awkward...
'I HAD PLANNED ON LETTING YOU HOLD THE RAILROADS TONIGHT, BUT SEEING YOUR TREACHERY REVEALED, I THINK EVEN GOING DIRECTLY TO JAIL AND NOT COLLECTING TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS IS TOO GOOD FOR YOU. '
Horus closes his eyes, and sighs deeply. He hefts his weapons, and girds himself for battle. The final battle.
It can only have one outcome....
*And it involves a Swiffer, and several dozen cans of Endust*Until next time, folks- Exit with catchphrase!
-SinSynn
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