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Black Crusade: Fires In The Garden

Geron takes the offered cigar and considers it for a moment. Then he bites the end off, chews appreciatively, and then spits it out once it loses its flavor. Setting the main part between his teeth he lights it and takes a drag, savoring mix of deadly chemicals he's inhaling. The cigars could probably asphyxiate a child or sick adult, but the slight risk of death by oxygen deprivation was worth the high.

As for the man offering the cigar...Rashad was a useful tool, but while all the Chaos Gods were mighty Khorne was among the least of them. "Blood for the Blood God, Skulls for the Skull Thrones" did have a simple charm to it though and Geron could appreciate their enthusiasm for slaughter.

Geron ponders where or not to make a sarcastic comment about the high likelihood of the Khornites only fighting enemies who'd bleed oil on this planet, but a more important thought springs up.

"If you come across any Navigators keep them alive. It's always good to have at least one spare and the extras will make excellent sacrifices at the victory party we'll be having once we've conquered this planet. Dark Prince willing this place will at least have alcohol worth drinking."

Black Crusade: Fires In The Garden

Squarehammer looms behind Geron, his bulk easily allowing him to interpose himself between his master and anyone approaching if necessary.

Geron meanwhile is looking around in disgust. His robes, gloves, and mask might stand out less on a world like this, but he's still got a unique outfit. Equal parts mad preacher and Rogue Trader.

"What a filthy place, one wonders how anyone here can stand to live like this. I should hope there's some beauty to be found, even a replica of the Imperial Palace might make it look worse by ruining the aesthetics. Oh if only there were something worth gazing upon."

He motions and an attendant rushes up with a mirror. Geron admires his reflection for a moment before replying to Vael.

"I didn't feel properly inspired. Some swampy thing appeared, bewitched a few crew members, befouled the deck, and then refused my generous hospitality and left. I was so upset, you would not believe it."

He lightly sinks the sharp parts of his glove into his shoulder, savoring the pain as he remembers his newest grudge.

"And we might need a new Navigator soon. Our current one is planning a mutiny."

Well at the very least she insulted him, and those are synonymous in Geron's book.

Black Crusade: Fires In The Garden

The answer that wasn't an answer was annoying, but at least Geron wasn't bored anymore. For now.

This creature called itself "enough?" And here Geron didn't think such a thing existed! There was always more to be had and why wouldn't you want it?

But he might as well try this new game.

"I am greater than I was before, lesser than I will be, and a full accounting of my desired state of being would reach from here to Terra at the very least."

Metaphorically and literally. If the Golden Throne was real and not figurative then Geron wanted it.

Geron snaps his fingers to get a servant's attention.

"Bring refreshments and entertainment."

There would be plenty of fresh captives to be taken once they reached their destination and he might as well be a gracious host. Besides, watching this creature tear someone to shreds would be fun.

Black Crusade: Fires In The Garden

Lord Geron Leruc (complete list of titles excluded for brevity) deigns to grant his gaze to the interloper. And the mess it's made on the floor. This creature has arrived uninvited, dirtied the floor it stands upon, and failed to introduce itself. Honestly he thinks, is it so much to ask for basic etiquette?

Still, at least the creature had the good sense to comment on his good looks, although there were better words than 'pretty.' Was there anything to the sensation of being underappreciated? No, Geron decided, it was neither pleasurable nor painful enough to find desirable. Irritation would normally be reason enough to order a prolonged and exquisitely unpleasant execution, but this creature at least was an object of interest to break up the monotony of the minutes he's gone without entertainment. He might order the creature plucked and cooked and turn those feathers into an outfit later though, time would tell.

Until then he might as well see what it wants. He gestures idly around the room.

"This is The Everthirsting Maw, my ship."

Geron reflects that he needs to get a Seneschal of his own. He's too important to be expected to the work of listing off all his titles and it would give him someone to have an intelligent conversation with. Or at least someone he might find worth remembering the name of.

"I am Lord Geron Leruc. And you are?"

Black Crusade: Fires In The Garden

Geron runs his tongue over his teeth almost hard enough to draw blood. The thrill of being near death is an acquired taste, but the rush of endorphins it provides is almost worth the risk. It's not enough though, he needs more stimulation.

Seeing as how Mademoiselle Dizzaralariad has left her handmaidens behind Geron decides to make use of them. He flicks his wineglass with a finger, creating a harmonic ringing sound, then points at them.

"Sing, we will not arrive in silence."

With Dizzaralariad gone and Squarehammer there to provide encouragement that should be enough to convince them to do as Geron tells them. And if their voices aren't raised in song their screams of agony will be a more than acceptable substitute for guiding them on their path and help motivate the rest of the crew.

Black Crusade: Fires In The Garden

It's a sign of great confidence or ignorance to assume a follower of Slaanesh would ignore wounded pride and not immediately smite whoever insulted them regardless of the consequences. The fact Geron considers whether it's worth the catharsis of breaking the Navigator's pride to have to deal with finding a new one is proof of why he's managed to survive as long and rise as high as he has.

He settles for removing her from her comfort zone.

"Excellent. Then you'll be accompanying us onto the planet. The Captain is more than sufficient for what the ship currently needs and your talents will be put to better use on the ground."

And the moment he finds a replacement who knows their place Slaanesh will be receiving an especially potent sacrifice.

Black Crusade: Fires In The Garden

Geron can still tell when he's being patronized. He hasn't survived this long by surrendering to solipsistic narcissism, he's far too intelligent for that to work. It seems another reminder of that is needed.

A fingersnap has Squarehammer hefting his Thunder Hammer, the Noise Marine ready to bring it down on whoever his master indicates.

"Those incapable of taking initiative don't belong in command positions. If you don't believe you're capable of making judgement calls on this then simply say so and I'll make the necessary adjustments in leadership."

Geron snatches back his wineglass and sips it.

"Any other questions?"

Black Crusade: Fires In The Garden

Geron basks in the light and noise noise and shudders along with the ship.

He considers the question as to what he wants to have the ship do after he leaves it, then makes a dismissive gesture.

"Pain is just an opportunity for growth. If the ship takes damage-"

The Slaanesh cultist imagines what damage the ship will take and regrets that it currently lacks the ability to feel those wounds.

"Repair it and build it back better. I leave the details of that to the crew, along with the responsibility of imagining the punishments I'll inflict for failure. Just be ready for when I want to leave."

He found claustrophobia combined with a lack of stimulation worked remarkably well as a method of torturing his fellows, once the sensation of fear wore off the boredom was the worse part of it. Failure was the inevitable result of him having to make use of imperfect beings, he just had to decide what speech to give as he sealed whoever ended up needing to be made an example of into a near-airtight alcove.

Black Crusade: Fires In The Garden

Geron's eyes flick to the Captain as he savors the chill of the Navigator's touch. He shoves the wineglass into the hand of a handmaiden (they had better know not to spill even a single drop) and stalks towards the insubordinate officer. His earlier euphoric tone has switched to icy as he addresses the man.

"If I have to take a drop pod you will be strapped to the bottom to cushion our fall, Captain. But rest assured I will have it pried out of the ground so I can appreciate the condition of your body afterwards, your sacrifice would not go unappreciated. Or you can do your damned job and fly us where I want to go."

Squarehammer looms behind Geron, hefting his thunder hammer in his hands.

"Certain death or depend on your skills, the choice belongs to you."

Black Crusade: Fires In The Garden

Lord (One of a long and ever-expanding list of titles he possessed) Geron Leruc swirled a glass of amasec mixed with a few drops of human blood (the blood of the innocent did not currently exist on this ship, but there were so many delicious flavors of corruption to sample) in his hand as he listened to the prattling of his minions. He waits for the perfect moment to take a sip, then decides there's no point in savoring it and downs the entire thing in one long loud slurp. His tongue flicks out afterwards, licking the spilled droplets from his lips in a single swipe.

He adjusts his sitting posture and his ever-present bodyguard Squarehammer (who might once have been a Noise Marine or a particularly muscular mutant who found one's armor and squeezed into it) moves to the most aesthetically-pleasing and thus best position to protect his master.

"I shall bring about a time where there is no separation between the Materium and Immaterium, where all shall bask in the Slaanesh forevermore. I haven't decided when that will be yet though. No later than after I've experienced everything the physical realm has to offer, possibly sooner depending on my mood."

Hmm, was the Captain expecting an answer? Geron waves his hand to indicate his understanding.

"Excellent, I was getting bored. Now someone refill my glass."