What I'm doing is writing scenes for the farewell festivities of the individual Chapters when they send a battle brother to the Deathwatch. I need visuals. So far I got:
Space Wolves: In accordance with Prospero Burns I imagine the rout sitting in near total darkness (wolves don't need light), in a cave most likely, the hearth fire burning, wearing oily leather garments and masks, growling, laughing, drinking Mjod. A skjald is telling the heroic tale of the brother as if he were already dead. There are sarcastic remarks and grim nods. Raw meat is consumed. A wolf priest decorates the brother's skin with war paint to ward against evil spirits.
Black Templars: A holy mass in a small black chapel, filled with old candles and smoke. Battle brothers in full plate, swords drawn stand in front of weathered statues of forgotten saints. It is a solemn service. The brother kneels before the priest who anoints sword and brow with ash.
Ultramarines: Full military honours. Open space. An entire company is present with banners and decorations and servitors and possibly tanks and whatnot. The Captain speaks about honour, duty, past battles. The speach is rousing, sometimes amusing, always brilliant. After that every single battle brother present clasps the brother's hand with a grin or a nod, maybe a joke.
Dark Angels: A gathering in a secret chamber filled with ancient texts, the walls and the floor are decorated with geometric symbols. Hooded figures in bone white robes, their faces hidden behind masks of ivory, gloves. A coin changes hands. Secret words are spoken, some are repeated by all. Cryptic passages are recited. A prophecy and a warning. Some things are better left unsaid.
Imperial Fists: Very little visuals here. I imagine them as monks in a grey monastery of granite, unmovable stone, heavy and oppressive. No decorations but weapon systems and eternally silent servitors, carefully hidden. Grey robes. The mood is contemplative, a private meeting with the Chaplain, walking through the dusty corridors of the monastery. It ends in a cell. Bolts are shut, chains. The brother has to confess, his flesh and mind punished by the pain glove. Guilt, cleansing.
I'd be grateful for suggestions and ideas.