Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-32600226-20181231192754/@comment-27830834-20190116050948

"'Pologies, what?" Kaylock stuttered, looking at the yellow box, then Martin, then the yellow box again. He stood there for several seconds, even as the interrogator departed and the truck lurched to life, a stunned expression plastered across his face.

Eventually, the voidborn sat down, sat up for a moment as if to say something further, then collapsed back on to the bench, burying his head in his tattooed hands. He was silent for a good while.

Eventually, Kaylock found his tongue.

"So, what scrag does his High Holiness have on you gentlefolk," He eventually asked, glancing at Waycrest. "Well, prolly nothin' on you; all this is just another day in the biz I bet."

The voidborn's gaze, seemingly friendly if very, very tired, came to rest on Bando. "Wha about... no wait slag that, ramrod, right..." He turned to Shoto. "You though, you dinna fit. So what's the tale? Might as well share, seein' as we're all like to be sharin' a grave."

Kaylock looked back to Waycrest. "No offense big'un. You're like to outlive us all." An electtoo of a stylized Aquila, seemingly constructed of engine parts, sparked to life on his lower abdomen.