Lucifer Butts
Re: Inquisitor Roska
Message From: Inq. HQ, Sector: [REDACTED]
Greetings,
I have reviewed the document you sent me concerning the supposed renegade chapter known as the "Sons of Lucifer." I must admit, I was at first confused as to whether or not this was some sort of Guiliman's a Fool Day prank, a puerile gesture but not unknown to the Imperial bureaucracy. I am nonetheless disappointed that an acolyte of mine could be fooled by such a painfully obvious fabricate. At the very beginning of the document, the apparent writer demonstrated their ineptitude for even the use of Low Gothic by misspelling words as simple as "their." I will use this document as a learning opportunity, to ensure that you no longer waste my time with drivel of this magnitude. The only concrete truth of this document is the figure of Lucifer who is, or was, a very real person.
Before I elaborate on that, the first blow to this document's integrity is in the dubiously wordy "Warcry" of the imaginary chapter; a verbose call to battle is best used to venerate the God-Emperor, the worlds of the Imperium, and the mighty Primarchs. The alleged Sons' demand that their victims "take a look to the sky just before [they] die; it's the last time [they] will," has no coherent meaning that I have discerned. Though this frivolous expenditure of breath is artless, I must again concede that Lucifer was known to shout such things on occasion.
Lucifer was not, nor has he ever been, an astartes of the Blood Angels, let alone any other chapter. Lucifer Butts, to use his full name, was an Administratum Adept. He did not crash land on Tython 6 after fighting Eldar - rather, he was reassigned to Tython 6 after spilling recaf on a particularly valuable data stack. His version of events, while much more heroic, presumably also entails less laughter at his expense.
While I can only guess at the character of Mr. Lucifer Butts, I do know that the planet he landed on, presented here as a "jungle hell" of sorts, is in reality a rather pleasant Imperial world located in a relatively peaceful sector. From what I have read, it is much more technologically developed than Lucifer was willing to let on, even granting that his version of events gave Tython 6's inhabitants a very sporadic (and, dare I say, convenient) grasp on technology, and has a generally balmy, tropical atmosphere. The citizens are given an unusual amount of leisure time, allowing them to toe the line of heresy with frivolous and idle diversions.
The records indicate that Lucifer Butts did not adapt well to his new home, at first, logging repeated complaints in his personal diary concerning a lack of appreciation for his considerable skills. Skills in what field, Lucifer does not specify. To ease his loneliness (or boredom) he began to partake in one of the planet's more unsavory customs; I cannot find a single equivalent term in Low or High gothic for what the inhabitants refer to as "larping," but the practice is similar to the altogether more wholesome theatre. Participants dress up in costume and take on characters to act out; the whole experience is unscripted, and the plot or lack thereof is left entirely to the players. Lucifer took to such borderline heresy with what the group's leader would later describe as a "quivering, awkward candour."
Lucifer Butts became particularly involved in a particular larping session, wherein half the participants took on the identity of a "vampire," a daemonic creature of local myth that seeks out and sexually menaces inhabitants that remain out after the sun's light fades. These creatures reputedly fear the sunlight, for their skin shimmers unnaturally beneath its rays and reveals them for what they are. The other players apparently took the part of "vampire-hunters" - this being the team Lucifer initially joined.
While an idle pastime that is harmless in practice, Lucifer's psyche evidently latched onto it as a means of escape. His obsession was made apparent in his personal diary, where he wrote at length about the minute details of his exploits, and reports from his superiors at this time complained of his constant chatter about what his character had done in last evening's larp. It is at this point, I suspect, that the line between fantasy and reality began to grow blurry for Lucifer. Fellow larpers were growing weary of him as well- the head of their group wrote in a personal diary (later seized by the Inquisition) that Lucifer had suddenly got it in his head that he should be a space marine, and thus more powerful than anyone else in the group. Tensions rose, and Lucifer's next social faux-pas would only make things worse.
It should be said that in my brief time studying Lucifer, I quickly learned that he would infatuate himself with any woman that would tolerate his presence; a brief discussion with the Canoness of a visiting Sororitas detachment, some months before his reassignment, nearly cost him his life, and I am personally relieved that the Canoness was in full armor when Slaanesh guided Lucifer's hands. One Anna Smith became his next obsession, another member of his larp group. Evidence suggests Miss Smith was playing for the other team in more ways than one, and romancing a 'vampire' would not be easy for the heroic (and grudgingly accepted) astartes warrior. In what I imagine was an attempt to endear himself to her, Lucifer claimed, to the bafflement of Miss Smith and the entire group, that she had "totally bit him, and it was really hot" and that this not only gave him reason to switch teams, but that it made him a "Super-Space Marine Vampire Hybrid."
This was the breaking point for the larping group, and Lucifer Butts was subsequently banned from attending any further session. This, in turn, was the breaking point for Lucifer's already tenuous grasp on reality. Later that night, local Arbites arrived in response to numerous reports of a man, whom most assumed was heavily intoxicated, attempting to bite civilians at the local autobus station. Lucifer was subsequently arrested and detained, all the while reportedly addressing the Arbites as "brother astartes." A local psychiatrist was brought in to examine Lucifer, who refused to refer to him as anything besides "Chaplain Varnius," despite repeatedly being told that the man's name was Talav. He was later released, on the condition that he would be given a strict medication regimen with an unusually high dosage.
With no more larp sessions to distract him, Lucifer Butts threw himself into his work. Mention of him in his overseer's journal only increased at this point - reports of Mr. Butts approaching him proudly with tales of taking out "another inquisitorial spy" quickly became numerous. These Inquisitorial agents, all of whom allegedly sought to end Lucifer's life, were in actuality his coworkers, who were yelled at and occasionally slapped by the nascent psychopath. He also was reprimanded for harassing a fellow employee, one Karah Darkova, having propositioned her for sex and flying into a rage when refused- he reportedly called her a "filthy prejudiced Inquisition dog" and made repeated and increasingly incoherent threats upon her life. In spite of the outlandish nature of the claims that his imaginary astartes legion would swoop down and kill them all, his overseer saw fit to remove him from his post without any further word to the arbites.
Lucifer vanished after this day. His tenement was broken into due to reports of "bizarre smells," and was found in quite a state of squalor and disarray likely extending back to when Lucifer first moved in. Buried under piles of food and mysteriously-stained pieces of cloth was a massive handwritten text, the most telling chronicle of Lucifer's decaying psyche. In near incomprehensible Low Gothic prose, the text described the numerous heroic exploits of his imaginary space marine chapter- of which he was, of course, the chapter master. A whole slew of fabricated battles and achievements formed an elaborate and darkly heretical fantasy, in which he was always the hero. These tales were interspersed with paranoid ramblings regarding a nonexistent Inquisitorial interest in him, and a number of favorable, rambling reviews of a local holopict series in which captured heretics die in various and gruesome ways. His limited vocabulary shines here, with boorish words to the effect of "cool," "awesome," and "brutal" peppering his praise of the series and how much better he would have done in the protagonist's place. He even wrote a series of "tests" for his "legion", copied in near exactness from this source. The final entry in Mr. Butts' journal talk of "1,000 years' penitence in Hell" in order to prove his astartes legion's validity to the Inquisition, and was resolved to go into the Eye of Terror. Combined with witness accounts, authorities concluded that Lucifer Butts sped off into the wilderness in order to enact his "penitence," and was presumably killed by some of the local wildlife.
In conclusion: do your research. Though the journal of Mr. Butts is present in the archives, you should have known better than to bring it to my attention without even a moment's research on the diseased mind responsible. If such a mistake is made again, I will have Adept Connerie give you a thorough re-education course in proper research methods.
-Inquisitor Roska
++++++Thought for the Day: Heresy grows from idleness+++++++
Derived from the Warhammer 40k fanon roundup. Given some heavy editing.