Cultist captured by a Space Marine:
Space Marine "Were is the location of your supply depot!"
Cultist: "Eat me soyalist!"
The Space Marine who just happens to be a Mortifactor:
⠀
——expect a striking pair of toned abdominals on him, there was instead of flat, muscular gut, with little signs of lean muscles there or anywhere else on his body.
゛ Hm. ゛
The towel she provided is now damp with sweat, and he holds it out to her.
⠀
⠀
It was as he unraveled his sweat-stained wrappings that he noticed her odd shift in demeanor, her attention now focused on their surroundings. For whatever reason.
Normally, he would’ve paid no mind to such a small detail. Especially from one of mortal servants——
⠀
ᅠ
Seeing his face is one thing. See him unwrap himself, another. She couldn't take in the details of his face to the exact sculpture. Not while he— unraveled. Her tongue clicked. She turned on her heel and had her attention return to the sparring deck.
ᅠ
⠀
——her towel, reaching down to his stomach.
One would imagine that even an Astartes would possess something akin to a ‘six-pack’(or whatever they call it in the 41st Millennium), but such a thought is often proven wrong, especially in Vadász’ case.
Where one would——
⠀