BoogieBuggy

Fulgrim - Even when grieving, Fulgrim does his best to keep himself together. He makes no effort to hide his sorrow, tears flowing freely down his face, but he keeps his expression as composed as possible, his voice unwavering and posture immaculate even as he plans their funeral and accepts the condolences of strangers. He has to, or else he will fall apart and he's afraid he will not be able to pick himself back up again if that were to happen.

To his child, this might cause him to appear cold. They know he's grieving, just like they are, but the fact that he never allows himself to do it fully, to mourn the way he needs to, feels insincere to the memory of their other parent. And so, when he tries to be there for them, it makes them feel like they can't properly mourn either, even though Fulgrim tries his best to be supportive.

Angron - Angron is forced to grieve in his own, brutal, way. He can't express himself with tears, can't seek comfort in the company of others, the nails don't permit it. So he pours his feelings into battle, his wails of grief turning into warcries as he seeks out enemy after enemy. The battlefield becomes the shoulder he wishes he could cry on. It's only when the enemy are all dead that he finally remembers his child. And Angron almost tears the nails right out of his head out of shame right then and there. Because he forgot them. He abandoned them. They are grieving, just like him, and while Angron is used to the pain of loss, they are young. Soft. Vulnerable. Instead of being there for them he left, like a coward.

Angron races back to be at his child's side and while it is late, he does his best to be there for them. He can't offer them a shoulder to cry on but he can be a presence. And while he is not good with words, he tries so hard to express himself, to tell them what they need to, no, deserve to hear. And if they want to hit him for leaving them... He won't stop them. He'll do anything to ease the guilt gnawing at his mind.

Magnus - He tries to explain what has happened. Both to his child and to himself. By talking about it in a logical sense Magnus does not have to focus on the way his soul feels like it is tearing itself in half. And he tries to do the same thing for his child. Grieve but remember that death is natural. Cry but look for answers too.

Try as he might to be there emotionally for his child, by talking about his partner's death in a purely logical way, Magnus detaches himself from the situation and leaves his child feeling alone with their feelings of grief. Like they are overreacting. Because people die all the time. And death is not really the end because the spirit continues to exist and so maybe, in a way, their other parent is still alive and they are being ridiculous for mourning.

Perturabo - First, Perturabo distracts himself with work. He designs and builds a mausoleum for his beloved, a work of art meant to stand the test of time, and when that is done... he moves on. At least he tries to. He tries not to linger on their memory, on the pain left behind by their absence. In a way, it's his own way of clinging onto them because part of him fears that if he grieves then he will one day have let them go.

And so, where before Perturabo might have been an emotionally distant but still present (and in his own way, loving) father to his child, he now shuts them out completely. They remind him too much of his beloved and it hurts. And what do we do with a limb that's no longer working? We cut it off. So, Perturabo pretends they don't exist. And if they exist, then they are far out of sight. And if they are in sight, they are not his child. Just another face in the crowd. Perturabo does not grieve, does not allow himself to, and he will only regret his decisions when it's all too late and his child has come to despise him.

Alpharius - It's a confusing time for heir of the Alpha Legion. They are surrounded by the faces of their father(s) yet the Primarchs themselves are... not absent but they aren't there when they need them the most. It's always been like this, with them randomly disappearing for whatever reasons, but the fact that they don't let up even now? It hurts.

Even when Alpharius and Omegon are there, their way of comforting their child is clinical. Almost detached in a way. They say what they should say, hug them and wipe their tears but it all feels like it's been rehearsed. Like it's a play. The truth is that both of them are desperately trying to figure this all out as well, trying to make sense of the situation and they are so obsessed with control and planning that they can't allow themselves to fully mourn.

Lorgar - For a long time, Lorgar is inconsolable, his face permanently wet with tears and twisted into an expression of pure grief. He spends this time praying, both for the safety of his beloved's soul but also for answers. Why did they have to die? Lorgar is desperately looking for some kind of sign, a reason.

During all of this, his child is by his side, urged to pray along with him. And Lorgar tries, he tries so hard to emotionally support them, to wipe their tears and hold them when they cry but the truth is that he needs them more than they need him. They are his rock in this time of grief and as much as they love him, as much as they appreciate what he's trying to do for them, the weight of responsibility is too much for such a young child. But what can they do except suck it up and be there for their father? He needs them after all...

Horus - As the Warmaster, Horus has to be strong. Perfect. Some grief is allowed but he's expected to still function, to continue with his duties like always. This forces him to grieve silently and alone. His child sees... some of it, but because it's so hard for him to separate 'Horus' from 'the Warmaster', Horus ends up passing this to his kid which, yeah, not a good thing. Horus tries to talk them about everything that's happened but they think they have to grieve on their own so they just say they're fine and tell him not to worry.

Of course, Horus does have some emotional intelligence so he does notice that something is off but he also does not want to force them to talk when they apparently don't want to so... it's a mess. Zero communication between them but they both try so hard to be there for each other.

Konrad - Konrad knew this would happen. Maybe not exactly this way but he'd foreseen the death of his beloved so many times that he had come to accept it, even if it tore him apart. That doesn't mean that when it finally did happen, that it didn't hurt. Because it did. It hurt worse than anything Konrad had ever experienced. But he accepts that pain, embraces it, because it means that what he felt was real.

He tells his child exactly this. Mourning is just the culmination of love and it shows that even when gone, they can still feel their parent in their heart. And it helps, it really does. But while he might help them grieve and mourn, Konrad won't be able to help them move past that. They might be able to figure it out on their own one day but for a long, long time, their heart will weigh heavy with sorrow.

Sanguinius - Like Konrad, Sanguinius foresaw the death of his beloved and likewise tries to prepare himself for it. But in the end, he could not accept it and so, when the day finally came, he felt so, so damn lost and broken. He surrounds himself with things that remind him of them, portraits and their favorite things, using these items in an effort to fill the gaping void left inside of him.

Despite his own crisis, Sanguinius tries his best to appear strong for his child. They don't need to see him fall apart at the seams. So he smiles for them, acts like the rock they need him to be in this turbulent time of their life. All the while, he tries to ignore the stabbing guilt that stems from the knowledge that one day, he too will leave them and then they will have no one left.

Corvus - He isolates himself together with his child for some time after his beloved's death. It's his way of gaining some kind of semblance of control over the situation, by holding what he cherishes close to him and protecting them from the outside.

It's not the worst tactic but it's far from the best one. On one hand, this way they can both find comfort in each other's presence as they mourn. But on the other hand, the isolation creates kind of a loop of grief. They are both sad, they see the other one is sad, get even sadder and so on. The best thing would be to step out and let some light into their lives again. It will take some time before this happens though.

Ferrus - He can't do this. Not alone, not without his partner. Ferrus loves his child, treasures them above all else but he's never been particularly good at this whole parenting thing and now he's supposed to do it on his own, all while handling his own grief? Despite outward appearances and apparent calm, he feels truly lost and every conversation he has with his kid he feels as if he's just making things worse.

Because he's so insecure about his parenting skills, Ferrus flips between being super, overly involved to detached. But dammit, he tries so hard to be, if not good, adequate, and even though he's so awkward the whole time, he does talk to them about what's happened and makes it known that they can always seek him out if they need someone to talk to.

Rogal - Dorn is no stranger to grief. On his unforgiving homeworld, death was always present and when his grandfather died, he mourned for a long time. This... this is not so different. His emotions might be stronger, his grief more intense, but he knows how to handle that. What he does not know how to do, is how to help a child through that same grief.

He has never been particularly good at subtlety or at the more delicate emotional aspects of parenting, but he tries so hard. He thinks about what his spouse would have done, what his grandfather used to say, and talks. Actually talks, with his kid. About everything. It's not easy but it's sincere and heartfelt and his kid knows that and together they help each other through this heartache.

Vulkan - There's a dark cloud looming over the Salamander's legion and everyone can see how deep in mourning Vulkan is. Yet despite his obvious sorrow, he still carries on, he still smiles (even if not as often or as brightly as usually) because his little one needs him. He can not succumb to his anguish when they are mourning just as much as he is.

During this time, Vulkan refuses to leave his child. They need him, he needs them, and there's no force strong enough in the universe to separate them. He hugs them even more than he usually does, they talk late into the night and when there's nothing left to say, they simply find comfort in the silent presence of each other.

Lion - Lion does not know how to grieve. He was never taught how to and now he does not know how to ask. Truth to be told, he can barely even make sense of what he's feeling, the loss manifesting itself in what he can only call physical pain, his dual-hearts aching as if squeezed in a power fist. But Lion does not make a show out of his pain, in fact, he doesn't even mention it. Admitting it would be admitting weakness and he can't afford to be weak. Not just in front of his legion, but his own child as well.

In Lion's head, as long as he's strong and unflinching, then he's providing proper support to his child. He thinks that this way, they will feel secure, knowing that he's there to catch them. Instead, it has the opposite effect. His child feels abandoned by him and slowly grow to scorn him over the fact that he seemingly doesn't care about the death of their other parent. Neither of them know how to talk about emotions with each other (that was always the other parent's thing) and so the animosity grows in silence.

Leman - He makes no attempt to hide his emotions and tells his child to not do that either. If they want to cry? Cry. If they want to hit, kick and bite? Then don't hold anything back. Their father will be right by their side, howling out their grief for all of Fenris to hear.

Leman will let his child mourn for however long they need to, partially because he knows that he himself will be inconsolable for a long, long time. It is better to let it all out, to feel all those emotions, then to shut them inside where they will fester into something dark and harmful. During this grieving period, they are never far apart from one another and they find solace in this closeness.

Jaghatai - Despite feeling like his soul has been ripped in half, Jaghatai retains a certain calm throughout it all. Instead of wallowing in grief, he remembers the good times, those happy days when they were all together. Death was the end but that didn't mean that life held no value, that the adventure wasn't worth it. Because it was. It was so, so very wonderful.

He helps his child through their own grief by telling them stories of the past, both moments they were there for and from the time before they were born. Jaghatai reminds them that it is ok to feel sad, to miss their other parent, but to never forget the time they had together. Don't focus of what could have been, but instead on what they had.

Roboute - Like with everything else in life, Roboute compartmentalizes. He puts his feelings, his grief, in a box and focuses on what needs to be done. The paperwork, the funeral and so on. He will mourn only when all of that is dealt with, because he knows that if he allows his feelings to take hold of him now then he will never get anything done.