Alukard-Abysswalker

  “Ever since I could comprehend the taste of metal , I knew my flesh to be weak. It wasn’t the simple practice of using tools, nor the worship of the machine through physical touch, but the literal taste of metal pressed on my tongue. It was the way in which the blade hit my taste buds, that delicious metallic flavor that made me feel in contact with the God of the Machine . That was a taste of divinity, but it was also a show of my weakness, the desires of the flesh that made me think of bliss when I should have considered the danger to my life. When the thugs of the inquisitor made me savor their blades in mockery, before the holy Tech Adept saved me from their corruption, I was enraptured in divine bliss when I should have understood my position. The flesh is weak, my brothers, so make sure to remember-” “Too wordy.” Malacheus turned around, seeing his brother and underling shaking his head. “Get to the point.” “The point?” He could have strangled him, stabbed him through his...

 The thud that his power pack made was not loud enough. Not as echoey as it should be. “Is that a word? ‘Echoey?’” Mike turned to Jaz expecting an answer or something. “Eh.” Was all he got from his Catachan comrade. “Aight, but you get me, yes?” He insisted. “No one gets you, Mikol.” She reiterated, if not in words then definitely in humor. “C'mon, power packs are meant to be heavy, therefore they make a very loud thud when hitting the floor. Am I right? Yue?” If Jaz was unwilling to converse, Yue was disgusted by the mere concept. At least judging by how they were already settling down for the night. “Please tell me you're not going to sleep already.” Mike practically begged. “Then I won't tell you,” was the Cadian ’s reply. “You will infer something from my snoring though.” “You overestimate his intelligence.” Corroborated Jaz to which they both snickered together, much to Mike’s dismay. “Don't give me that!” He yelled at them as they laughed. “I am right! It is too...