[hider=Janus Zizuk]

[b]Name:[/b] Janus Zizuk. 
[b]Gender:[/b] Male

[b]Homeworld:[/b]  The land of Vindaugr. The system orbits closely around the twin suns of Lyessil and Port, and as such, would later be known as a Dead Feral World of little more then dust. Take a fine sliver of sand and heat and bake it in the biggest and most terrible oven the universe has ever seen, and let it dry and crack and batter it in stellar winds before drying it out on the grille of the universe, and that's Vindaugr. What grew out of there prefers to forget it ever existed, and what dies there dries up and becomes one with the sand and dust. The few men and beasts that can grow and thrive in the permanent sandstorm that passes for Meteorology in Vindaugr are wiry sons of mothers, almost camel-like in their abillity to survive in drought.

[b]Appearance:[/b] Janus is a small man by Primarch standards, swarthy and reticent like the men of Vindaugr. His hair is dark, and neatly combed daily to an almost fetishistic degree, along with his black, neatly trimmed wispy mustache. His watery Greenish-bluish eyes shine in darkness, almost never blinking. His armour, like the armour of the legions in his command, have waxy, faded regalia, with a "Make-do-and-mend" quality to them. His hands are almost constantly a blur, always sketching out a design on a dataslate or cutting sheets of parchment. His antique tools of his trade, a blowing pipe and collection of interesting sands, are never far from his grip.

[b]Personality:[/b] Janus is smart, fiendishly so. There is not a single one of his actions that does not come with a hundred backup plans, and a thousand contingency measures. Not a single move is run past him without him reading a hundred thousand little hints into every single twitch. He reads the world like a rock reads a waterfall, allowing the current to flow past him and taking the worst of him with it. He's far too devious to let himself in to the pleasure of fighting, but vents his pleasure in other ways.
[/hider]

[hider=Art Marines]

Legion Name: [url=http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/25757950/images/1372718075025.jpg]Defenestrators.[/url]

Favored tactics: Infiltration and Siege

Favored battlefield role: The Defenestrators are masters of Area Control and Denial, adept and proficient with flame and prometheum-based weapons. Their hands are steadier then average, due to the care and delicacy they devote to their craft, and as such have far more sniper and airtillery units under their command then are usually expected. 

Legion Characteristics/Ideology: The Defenestrator Legion is a small company of hardy men. Their creed revolves around the fervent, unshakable belief that anything that happens will eventually pass. All art and order shall eventually be consumed by chaos, and all chaos and delight shall eventually die to order, that there is nothing that will ever survive, or ever could survive. Everything around you is temporary, so enjoy the moment. This leads into their practice of creating stunning, space marine-sized examples of the Glassblower's craftsmanship and then smashing the enemy through them. 

[url=http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/25733525/images/1372626479907.jpg]The legion's colours are Black and Ice-blue.[/url] The pauldrons are hand-crafted, each with the marine's personal insignia delicately woven into the design of the whole. When faced into Close Combat range, the Marines take great pleasure in shoulder-charging the enemy in a last-ditch attempt to fight.

Hated Enemy: Forces of Chaos. [/hider]