#lookingforwcrd

Clearing his throat, the skull helmet turned to face Titus again after a moment of hesitation. "It is a great feat to become the Captain of the Second Company," again, he nearly said, "so I... I came to personally congratulate you on your biggest achievement yet. You had proven yourself to your Chapter time and time again, not faltering even when one of... your brothers... distrusted you." His head lowered a few before rising again. "I look forward to your journey as the new Captain."

Even now, he hadn't been able to fully come to terms with it all. With Graia, with what he'd done. Sometimes, he still thought about back then. Sidonus. Leandros. And everything with Nemeroth. He still felt the pain in his hands form the previous explosions of the power source long before Demerium.

Being met with the Chaplain was still something that left Titus reeling after all this time. Knowing who it was under that helm, it admittedly haunted Titus even after he'd worked to properly apologize when they'd left to join Calgar for another mission. So as Leandros approached, while Titus overlooked a dataslate and was prepared to overlook the nav-table for their next planet to reconquer in Guilliman's name, the Captain stopped and turned to the Chaplain.

The congratulations made his brow raise at first. He hadn't said anything, simply taking in what the Chaplain said-- until the last comment and the lowering of his head.

Titus replied then, in a familiar softer tone as he would've back in the day, mindful of his word choice... however, a thought came to mind, and it was a rare, scathing thought against his own brothers. You weren't the only one who doubted me. Yet, that was pushed to the side-- because at least with Leandros, he didn't blame the man for his suspicion. And now? It was practically his job to be suspicious.

" Thank you, Chaplain. It is a relief and-- quite frankly-- an honor to have such praises from you. However, I think it is best to keep in mind that it is your duty to be suspicious of those you think still have the stain of suspicion, " despite using Leandros's own words, there wasn't any malice to them. Instead, it was a further understanding. Titus wanted to be better. He didn't want to be the same man he was at Graia, succumbing to everything to the point of growing so hateful, " and knowing how I was... I think you had every right to be concerned. "

There was the smallest bit of humor from Titus's old personality budding, however, compared to how he was as Lieutenant. As, he quietly added on, " Especially with my idea of another sub-orbital drop for Demerium. I think you would be yelling if I told you about that plan. "

His voice was warm when mentioning it. Clearly, a friendly jest. It seemed like Titus was finally able to at least be lighthearted about some aspects of Graia.

" I look forward to being able to work alongside you again. It's been some time... and I've been meaning to make a request for you to join my squadron for a mission soon. "

⠀ ◙ to blackmail my muse.

⠀

⠀

Of course Piper is the reason for the season. Which is to say, she’s the reason mistletoe is hanging above her and the Space Marine.

“It’s a tradition.” She says, motioning him down closer to her height. “Two people, if they meet under mistletoe, have to kiss. Well, have is a strong word. Have an excuse to, I think, is better.”

She won’t presume, it’s not her style, so she instead presses a kiss to his cheek once she’s able. The imprint left behind is nothing short of intentional.

Nailed it.

Piper, a good person deep down, politely ignored the note that he was reading from and graciously accepted the little box. She lifted it to her ear, just for the fun of it before she popped the tape off the paper and unwrapped it.

"Happy Sanguinala, brother!" Vulkan is giving Horus a nearly bone crushing hug before giving him a small wrapped box. It contained a small wolf adornment that matches the white fur in his armor and it can be attached anywhere he so wished! — @lookingforwcrd

" Happy what— "

No chance for clarification before the Warmaster is swept up in the strong grapple of his volcanic brother. He almost felt his spine realign for a moment.

Rufus is.. Handing out a 'beaky helmet' with skull ornaments to Alaric. "Happy Sanguinala!" — @lookingforwcrd

" Your gift to me this treacherous season is - a heraldry affront against my brotherhood with those - profane, depressed corvids? " Alaric takes the helm regardless and rolls it within his grasp, allowing the light to illuminate the silver-ivory detailing.

There is no ' thank you ' in his language, so he will supply this in form of merely accepting it without much fuss.

What Calgar was met with was honestly... a horrifically easy question for him.

He'd been standing at the deck with much of the Victrix Guard. With their return from Demerium, it meant much of the Company was lost-- around seven percent of the Chapter (of which, Calgar silently seethed at such a nightmare of a percentage... he would need to speak firmly with Acheran). Titus was in the medicae bay, and it seemed to be Gadriel had recovered enough.

The Chapter Master's head tilted off to Gadriel, and he hid the mournful expression he would've had with everyone else. A gauntleted hand came up, dwarfing the Sergeant's head, and pressing it lightly to his shoulder.

" ... Not fully. " Marneus murmured, " But you can adapt. "

" If you believe such wounds will heal, Sergeant, it will take time. Maybe lifetimes. Or maybe never at all-- I suppose it is a curse, to be human, when you feel so much. But, that is why we adapt. We learn from our grief and our loss, and we transform it. Maybe we use that energy to motivate us, or perhaps-- a way to guide us to something greater. "

His eye drifted over, and the glowing red of his bionic eye flickered.

" We lost many brothers here today. Their duties have ended-- and now they stand at the God-Emperor's side. In the end, what we can do is honor their sacrifice, Sergeant, and push forward just as they would. "

Abelard's brow was quick to rise when offered such by Lady Minerva. Turning his head quickly from where he stood, the Seneschal was quick to straighten, and a little wriggle of his nose made his moustache move side-to-side as he quickly sniffed and tried to regain composure.

" I, beg your pardon? " He found himself asking, before quickly reeling it back, " Oh, ah-- simply black recaf, Lady Gadriel. I do thank you, but... ah... "

Glancing back to where his Lord-Captain chatted away with the Sergeant of the 2nd Company, Abelard spoke just the smallest bit softer, yet he still worked to keep his formalities going.

" I should be offering you such. I am a seneschal, I am no true noble. " He was certainly a high and very respected rank within the Von Valancius dynasty, proudly serving at the Rogue Trader's side-- but, it was still a far cry from the noble elite, with their many connections and the ways they conducted themselves. House Werserian was a navy family first and foremost, and many argued amongst themselves about if their family deserved such honors that Lady Theodora and now Lord Luxfried had given them.

His hands interlaced behind his back, formal and standing to attention as always while he worked to keep a sort of 'guard' to the balcony where the Lord-Captain talked in private.