#oc: nirvikar

[sleepyfan-blog]

Day 7 - Buried Alive

Author’s note: Day 7 of June of Doom! Masterlist here. I hope you enjoy~

Warnings: being buried alive, betrayal, inappropriate use of paralytics, please ask me to tag something if I’ve missed it

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @i-am-a-dragon34 @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @bleedingichorhearts @legionsofthehungry

@felinisnoctis @bookandyarndragonwritesdark

Summary: This is how Nirvikar ended up being sent to M3 Terra.

"This silence offends Slaanesh! Praises to them for this glorious hymn that I sing in their name!" Nirvikar thundered as the noise marine brought his sacred weapon-instrument up. He had spent decades crafting the base, mundane weapons he'd been given while he'd been a slave to the Imperium into the glorious weapon of sonic destruction. He had shaped the bolter into a violin, and one of his knives into the bow. He placed the bottom of the violin on his clavicle, resting his chin on the mounting, making sure his fingers were in their proper place.

He shifted his grip on his bow, dodging a charging corpse-worshipper with an elegant leap and slicing the poor fool's neck open with the sharpened blade-edge of the bow. A feral grin appeared on Nirvikar's face as he raised the bow and began to play a dirge of perfect destruction, dancing and singing around the battlefield. The perfectly discordant hymns empowered his brothers and cousins fighting for She Who Thirsts, and the Chaotic Notes paralyzed those who did not follow the Prince of Pleasure. Some started to scream in time to his music, while others bled from the eyes, ears, nose or mouth, their blood dripping out of their helmets as they fell to the ecstatic hymns that he played and sung into being.

He did not stop until the last enemy fell, and finished the final notes of the hymn with a perfect flourish, bowing to his brothers and cousins. "Thank you, one and all. I do hope that my performance met your expectations~!" Playing the psychic hymns were draining, and exhaustion pulled at him, but he would not choke and fail his wonderful audience at the end of his performance.  

Several of his brothers rushed over, clapping and hollering, their voices melding into a lovely din that he could barely understand. 

'That was truly inspired, brother!"

"How did you reach all of those notes? I hadn't realized that violins could make such a large range of notes."

"Could you teach me how to do that chaotic arpeggio? The one that stunned a half dozen loyalists within twenty feet of you, so that they could be more easily killed in Their name?"

Nirvikar grinned as he carefully started to clean and ensure that the strings of his combat violin were still well-tuned "With a great deal of practice, brother. Violins really are quite a versatile instrument. And I would be honored to show you how I did that arpeggio, brother. I found your chaotic chords that you played with your violent guitar to be inspired! I hadn't seen anyone create shockwaves like that before."

"I must say, I would like to hear you play in a more private setting - perhaps with a wooden violin?" A cousin called out, making his way through the group. A thousand sons sorcerer by the name of Ashra. 

"Hmmm, I might be interested in doing so, though after a rest. Playing those hymns took a great deal of energy and focus." Nirvikar answered with a warm smile and a playful wink Ashra's way. Bovoli, who was the leader of their warband, had picked Ashra up on a moon near the edge of the Maelstrom. Apparently the sorcerer had been meditating and learning everything that could be learned on the moon's library - which had been a thing of beauty, if the nerds were to be believed. Nirvikar hadn't seen much appeal to the dusty tomes, but he did find the stained glass windows to be strikingly beautiful. The painted art had been of boring pastural landscapes, or long-dead mortals who likely did not deserve the accolades that they had been given posthumously. 

"I'll hold you to that, brother. I hope you wouldn't mind if I asked you some questions about how you were able to craft this particular hymn to She Who Thirsts? The songs of destruction you wove and sung on the battlefield were something I've never seen before." Ashra asks, a hopeful expression appearing on his face "I'd love to hear more of how you'd come up with such a complex composition."

Bovoli was barking orders, and most of the rest of the group was scrounging supplies from the dead, or were hunting down the spacecraft that the corpse-worshippers had landed on this moon on. "Sure thing, brother. Let's walk and talk, so that we can avoid being grumbled at by our resident Iron Warlord." 

The thousand son chuckles and nods "Far be it from be to antagonize our glorious leader. I think I saw a patch of rare mushrooms that can be distilled into an oil that can kill or incapacitate marines. I've got the proper collection materials for it, and would appreciate an extra set of eyes, as some of the plants out in the jungles here are very aggressive."

"How charmingly vexing. I'd be delighted to help you with your fungal foraging efforts." The Emperor's Child answered "Please, lead the way." 

Ashra nods, smiling warmly and starting to head into the feral forest "This way, brother." He lightly set one of his hands on Nirvikar's elbow, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper as they left the area where the rest of their warband was searching for spoils of war "I must say... You are by far the best singer of the group, Nirvikar. Your command over sonic attacks is unparalleled. How do you manage it?"

The Emperor's Child preened at the praise and made sure to lower his voice so that it did not carry too far "When I entered Slaanesh's service, one of the first gifts they bestowed upon me was the melding of my helmet vox into my vocal chords. While it does mean that I'll never be able to remove my helmet, not fully, it also means that I can boost my voice to be much louder than other astartes are able to, and I can change the way my voice sounds from like this, to a more broadcast sounding sound like this, to this high and whispery sort of voice. It all depends on my focus, will and the muse I am searching for while in pursuit for perfection."

"That's truly remarkable. My own patron has given me a number of small gifts, though they are mainly minor shape-shifting abilities. For example, I can change the color of my eyes and hair with a bit of focus and energy." Ashra explains, turning and winking at Nirvikar, as his eyes shifted from black to green to a light blue. His hair color and texture changed several times as he spoke as well. 

"I freely admit that I know little of biomancy, but I imagine that many quick changes is rather taxing?" Nirvikar answers and asks, tilting his head a little in fascination. 

"It would be, were my connection to the warp be weak. But I'll let you in on a little secret - I am quite strong, which allows me a greater command over the disciplines of biomancy that would kill weaker psykers, or require several at once. For example, I can also sharpen my nails into claws, and even have them secrete poisons from their tips, as long as I know the full chemical make-up of said poisons. My body will synthesize the compounds and store them without causing harm to myself."

As Ashra spoke, Nirvikar felt something sharp and hard slice into the seam of his elbow, as it was a pot he'd taken quite a bit of damage, and there'd been a weakness in his armor. He took a half step back and said "Watch it, you managed to cut me." 

"Oh I know. I did that on purpose." Ashra answers, stopping and turning to look at him steadily. 

The arm that the Thousand Son had pierced was burning with an exquisite flame. He could feel the fingertips of that hand start to tingle and burn with pins and needles before going numb. Nirvikar stumbled backwards as he felt the agony and numbness spread up his arm and across his chest "Why? What did you do to me?" Breathing was starting to get difficult. 

"Because you are a threat I do not have an easy counter for, so this is the solution I have come up with." Ashra answered, his voice and eyes cold. 

"But... But we're part of the same warband? We have been for years, and I have never deliberately antagonized you." Nirvikar growled, betrayed and confused as he tried to stagger away from the deeply amused thousand son.

"You are not apart of my warband. My true warband, that is." Ashra purrs, smirking at him, closing the distance between the two of them and forcing Nirvikar to stop moving. "Now I wasn't lying when I said there were mushrooms that I wanted to collect. But... You see.. They require a very specific kind of food in order to grow properly, so you are the unlucky sacrifice." 

The fucker was able to pick him up as his body went limp and his breathing went shallow. Nirvikar tried to scream or move, but his body didn't so much as twitch. Bastard! 

Ashra chuckled, patting him on the side condescendingly as he walked deeper into the woods and setting him in a deep, pre-prepared hole that was ten feet deep, ten feet wide and twelve feet long. "If it makes you feel any better, your death will serve me and my brothers well."

With an insulting amount of care, the thousand son placed him into the pre-dug grave. 

"I will, however, be keeping this battle instrument of yours. While I don't serve the whore-god of the galaxy, I am certain that I will be able to figure out some sort of use for these. The bow makes an excellent short range blade, and if nothing else... I am sure I can sell your instrument to another one of the slut-goddesses' followers for everything of value that they possess." The Thousand Son sneers as he carefully starts to fill the grave in, with Nirvikar still alive and paralyzed at the bottom of the hole.

"Oh and... Do try not to die too quickly. The mushroom spores will only grow to full potency if the host they are feeding off of lives for the first few years of their growth. It's remarkable how durable we astartes are, and as it's unlikely that you actually need to breathe... and with the suspended sleep that we are able to fall into... You are going to be an excellent source of food for these mushrooms for years, possibly even decades to come." Ashra purrs as he continued to fill in the grave.

All Nirvikar can do is scream in his mind as he feels the handfuls of dirt slowly begin to cover him. His breathing was still very shallow and frustratingly slow. Tears of fury and fear slid down his helmeted face. Surely he couldn't live for that long, trapped in the way that this fucker was implying? He gathered up his flagging psychic might and tried to force Ashra to stop, trying to attack the fucker with the force of his mind.

The bastard laughed and clapped his hands "Yes! Be furious! Struggle more against the inevitable, you are already starting to empower these spores." Ashra shook his head, and he dodged the psychic attack. The fucker taunted and monologed at him for what felt like days as he threw fistful after fistful of dirt and gods only knew what else onto him, working his way up from Nirvikar's toes to his head.

He had deliberately made sure as the earth began to press against him heavily that Nirvikar could still clearly see the bastard, using his own psychic strength to keep an opening available. "And would you like to know why I chose you? Because you were gullible and trusting. Because I knew that you had overtaxed your resources. Because I know that the warband I infiltrated resents and hates you, and would not care if you went missing. They find your hymns grating and your voice insufferable. Really, I am doing them a favor by getting rid of you."

That... That wasn't true! That couldn't possibly be true! Nirvikar had done his best to get along fairly well with the other members of his warband and was... Fairly sure he had succeeded? He did occasionally clash with others, but that was..> That was just what it was like to live around a band of brothers and cousins. 

"Oh... And I plan on weakening this warband further, until they can be picked off one by one. By other warbands, by the corpse worshippers. I t matters not to me, just that you and the others suffer for my plans. Hydra dominatus." Ashra, or whoever the hell he really was smirked "I am alpharius, and you. You were simply a pawn in one of my many games." 

The Hydra's smug face was the last thing that Nirvikar saw, as his body was trapped by earth and paralytic poison as he desperately tried to overcome it, to avoid falling into the deepest depths of despair where Nurgle lurked, waiting to embrace him. He could not say how long he was trapped there until exhaustion and numbness of the mind overtook him, and Nirvikar fell into a deep, unhappy slumber.  

[sleepyfan-blog]

Day 12 - Oblivious

Author’s note: Day 12 of Fluffy July 2026! Masterlist here. I hope you enjoy~

Warnings: implied one-sided crush, please ask me to tag something if I’ve missed it!

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @i-am-a-dragon34 @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @bleedingichorhearts @legionsofthehungry

@felinisnoctis @bookandyarndragonwritesdark

Summary: Nirvikar finishes a project

Nirvikar stretched and hummed, a pleased grin appearing on his face as he carefully finished the final loop, hook, curl and twist required to finish off the hand-crocheted blanket that he'd been working on for the better part of three months. He had learned a great deal about how to crochet a blanket - and how not to crochet a blanket. He'd needed to unravel several sections of the blanket when it had become obvious that he had slipped a stitch, or made one of a dozen other small mistakes that would have had an unfortunate effect on the blanket, should he have not made sure to correct it by undoing everything after he made the mistake, then the mistake itself and continue crocheting the blanket. He had picked yarn that was of his bonded's preferred weight and texture. He had even chosen their favorite colors. 

While the guides that he had read both in what passed for the Noosphere in this era, as well as physical paper guides had recommended that beginners either stick to a single color, or simple patterns like stripes... Nirvikar was not only an Astartes, he was an Emperor's Child. This gift is a courting gift for his bonded, and he would accept nothing less than perfection when it came to gifts that he acquired or made for his bonded.

At the urging of his bonded, Nirvikar had joined a local club full of fiber arts enthusiasts. They were a mix of baselines and Astartes, and everyone worked on individual projects, chatted about what their plans were for new ones, and generally spent time together. Nirvikar found that most of the group was fairly welcoming to him, despite the fact that he was quite clearly a Chaos Marine.

There were a couple of corpse worshippers - one of whom did not partake in fiber arts directly, but instead aided his bonded in making the beautiful quilts that she made by fetching the squares of cloth that she needed, or cutting out the pinned pieces of fabric as she carefully stitched everything together. The Black Templar was a grumpy and growly bastard, at least whenever he spotted Nirvikar or one of the other Chaos Marines who had just as much right to be at the club as anyone else. 

Nirvikar outwardly pretended that he was ignoring the grumpy bastard, as he had been told that deliberately antagonizing loyalists was against the spirit of the alliance that kept the corpse worshippers from trying to slaughter everyone in their foam-mouthed frothing zealous and blind devotion to a false god. He was acutely aware of where the other was in the room, and the way he glared at him. 

He carefully tied off the end of the blanket before cutting it so that there wouldn't be much of a tail to deal with. He pulled out his sewing kit, and carefully threaded one of his needles, sewing the end of the yarn so that it was much less likely to unravel. A pleased grin appeared on his face as he carefully rolled and stretched his wrists. He held the blanket up, carefully inspecting it one final time. He really hoped that his bonded would like the floral pattern he'd carefully crocheted into the blanket. 

Satisfied that the blanket was up to his standards, Nirvikar carefully folded the blanket and placed it into the wooden box that he had hand carved and painted before closing the lid and sliding the small mechanism to lock it into place. 

Mindy - one of the other crocheters of the group - walks over to him and asks "What do you think your next project is going to be? That floral pattern is really lovely."

"Why thank you! It took me several tries before I could get the pattern down properly as this is the first large crochet project that I've tackled. I am grateful that you pointed out that the flowers were going to end up crooked about three weeks ago, if I didn't go back and fix it." Nirvikar responds with a grin "As for what I want to do for my next project.... I can't rightly say that I have anything in mind at the moment. I'll do some research about what I'd like to do... I did watch a couple of lace making videos, and I imagine that once one gets the patterns down, that moving the bobbins back and forth is a rather meditative process... But I'd need to get more and different supplies..."

Mindy nods, and offers "Several of us make blankets, scarves, mittens and hats for the children's hospital. You've got an excellent eye for detail and your craftwork is very impressive. And they're always grateful for the donations."

Nirvikar hums thoughtfully about the suggestion "I see... It would be nice to know that more of what I make is going to those who need a bit of perfection and comfort in their lives." 

Mindy beams, moving in closer and placing a hand on his elbow "I am really glad that you started coming here, Nirvikar. Your stories and songs always bring such a lively atmosphere to the fibercraft club. If I may be so bold as to ask, you never said who that blanket and box are for. They're really lucky, whoever they are."

Nirvikar beamed as he hugged the box a little closer to his chest "Thank you! And I am grateful that you were willing to take the less than perfect boxes I made while I was working on making this one. As for who this is for, why these gifts are for my bonded!"

".... Bonded?" Mindy echoed, her voice getting an oddly strained-sad quality to it. He can't imagine why. Unless she had a bonded who'd rejected her? That'd be a shame, as she's a lovely person. Then again, the chapter most likely to reject a bond among the corpse worshippers at least were Black Templars, who were horribly rude bastards most of the time. Chaos Marines who avoided bonds tended to not go anywhere near mortal settlements, as to avoid the chance entirely, as the whims of the warp tended to saddle stubborn or cruel chaos marines with intense bonds that kept them from wreaking havoc. 

"Yes, the lovely, amazing, wonderful mortal I am bonded to! I love them with all of my hearts, and both of these things are gifts to them, to show my affection and appreciation for them." Nirvikar explained, rocking back and fourth on his heels a little as he thought about the absolute love of his life, his muse, his grounding touch-stone. 

Mindy's expression seemed to have... Frozen. Or become quite fake? How strange. But that wasn't really his problem, though he was distantly fond of her, they weren't close friends or anything. "I see. Well, I hope that your lucky bonded likes your gifts." Her phone chimed a moment later "Oh! I need... I need to go answer this. Talk to you later, Nirvikar."

"Talk to you later, Mindy!" Nirvikar answers, giving one of his mortal acquaintances a little wave before heading back home, happily humming to himself. 

[sleepyfan-blog]

Can we get more Nirvikar, please? :)

A/N: Thanks for the ask! Sorry this took a while. I hope you enjoy this!

tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @i-am-a-dragon34 @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @bleedingichorhearts

@felinisnoctis @bookandyarndragonwritesdark @kit-williams

warnings: religious imagery, poor coping mechanisms,

Summary: Nirvikar is composing a song for his dearest bonded.

Nirvikar hums to himself, his fingers lightly tapping the keys to the keyboard that his dearest beloved had given him. It had several modes, which allowed him to make the keyboard make sounds similar to a number of other musical instruments available in this time period. You were currently at work, and yet again… He had been left behind. He was apparently too off-putting to be allowed to help you out as you worked to keep the grocery store stocked and cleaned. 

He hadn’t threatened anyone in days when you’d been informed by your boss to leave him at home, Or Else…

The Kakophoni still didn’t understand why you wouldn’t let him arrange for you to have food, shelter and enough money to entertain yourself when you wanted to buy things or go out for experiences. His arias were incredibly popular, and the video-channel where he sung and played minor little ditties and hymns from the far future was incredibly popular! He could easily support you in your artistic pursuits!

And you did have artistic pursuits. He had watched in wonder as you wove scarves, gloves and hats from soft yarn. He’d read over your shoulder as you crafted worlds and stories with breath-taking and vivid detail… Even if you did get shy sometimes, when you realized that he read what you wrote. 

He’d reminded you that there was no shame in the act of creation. That the right to express oneself… To indulge and create artistic masterpieces in any and every medium was not just amazing, but exultation of the divine! Not that he had spoken much more of his devotion to He who hungers, as that was against the petty rules that he obeyed in order to stay in your life without being harassed by corpse-worshippers.

Not that he had felt much direction from She who thirsts since he’d arrived here. The warp is quiet. Much quieter than he’s used to, without the breath-taking agony of a Blank nearby suppressing it… Then again, They who Devour has yet to be born, and their eternal song is barely a muted whisper. Nirvikar has to be very quiet and still in order to hear it’s glorious melody.

Your birthday is coming up in the next couple of months, and he’s been wanting to compose a song for you. To extol your virtues, to revel in your vices. To reveal to the whole of Ancient Terra the glorious soul he is bonded to. He’s been working on the instrumental part for several weeks, ever since you’d gotten him the keyboard whose keys he was pressing, searching for the correct notes and the right instruments available to him. 

He’d also been mulling over the lyrics that he wanted to write in this ode to you, his beloved, his bonded. His muse. It had to be perfect, and Nirvikar would not settle for anything less. It was good you were away, as he only worked on this while you couldn’t listen to the faltering notes, the incomplete rhyme, the too fast or too-slow beats. You had given him serenity, your love and trust. 

The least he could do is to make sure you were loved by all, as was right and good. He had been through every major kind of musical style available on Ancient Terra, and the thousands that had been invented and reinvented in the intervening millennium. From heavy power ballads, to work chants and rebel rallying cries. 

But the melody he liked best, at least for this first song, focusing on the love, awe and joy you inspire, and the radiance in which you move through life brought out a sweet, gentle, sentimental tune. The keyboard’s best efforts at piano and harp. He hums as the beginning section of the melody flows from the keyboard, the harsh, stuttering touches of his fingers to the instrument smoothing and gentling as the song began to take shape. 

You are the keeper of my soul and heart

 We are one together, and one apart

Hmm… It was a nice couplet, and perhaps… Perhaps it would fit as part of the lyrics, but did he want to start off by focusing it on his bond to you? Where you and he can’t be untangled, lest his soul snap from it’s bodily chains and be claimed by She who Thirsts? … No, this melody is supposed to be about you, not him. 

Your eyes shine brighter than a thousand stars

Softer than rose petals, are your lips

My hands fit the shape of your warm hips

I sing hymns of praise while counting your scars

He pauses for a moment, huffing a little. He loved you, all of you. But while describing the body of one’s lover was a common tactic in a song-writer’s love song it tended to… Come off as a little objectifying. And you were no object. Your kind and loving soul shone in every action you took. Your clever mind and playful nature were a joy to hold. Perhaps he should focus on trying to write about that first? 

Your mind is a maze I will wander endlessly

Your soul shines bright, and brings me to ecstasy

Your heart is warm and thrums so pleasantly

My hearts are caught by you, helplessly!

Nirvikar huffs and frowns, crossing his arms over his chest as he sets the keyboard down on it’s stand so that he doesn’t throw it through the wall in frustration. It would be incredibly rude of him to break the thoughtful gift you’ve gotten him - and the wall. He rocks back and forth a little as he paces in circles. He’s capable of bringing even the most powerful of loyalists to their knees with the might of his hymns to He Who Consumes! Why is this so difficult?

A deep, frustrated growl rumbles in his chest as he rubs at his face. The sensory stimulation is not enough and the temptation to start clawing at his face - or his arms is high.

But… You get worried when you find him bloodied by his own claws. The last thing that he wants to do is to upset you while trying to create something that he hopes that you’d love. He starts plucking at the hairband that you’d given him. The snap of it against the flesh of his wrist provides flash-points of pain that help ground him in the moment, before he can lose himself to the tempest of his own raging emotions. 

It’s not enough. It’s not enough!

Ice, he needs ice. And water. 

Nirvikar rushes over to your charmingly small kitchen, grabbing one of the clean but not yet put away bowls and sets the tap to running as cold as it can. The Kakophoni sets the bowl under the stream of water, letting it fill as he spins on his heel to the fridge. He opens the top door with a gentleness that belies the urgency - the last thing he needs to do is to accidentally rip the door of your freezer… Again.

He’d been able to bribe one of the Iron Warriors who lived nearby to fix it before you returned from work, but they’d been a huge, smug bastard about it and the cost in trade had been astronomical. 

The Kakophoni plucks up a tray of ice and flicks the cubes into the bowl until the tray is empty. He refills the tray with fresh water and puts it back into the freezer, closing the door with equal gentleness before turning off the tap. 

At least his sense of timing isn’t off, as the bowl of water was just full enough for him to shove his head inside the metal bowl and whisper-scream in frustration. The sound of his own voice reverberating through the liquid and the metal bowl, without accidentally destroying half of your kitchen and deafening any creature within a quarter-mile radius capable of hearing him. 

… Again. 

He whisper-screams until he can no longer stand the burning of his three lungs. Until black dots swim in and out of his vision and vertigo causes him to sway. 

Nirvikar roughly wrenches his head out of the bowl of water, gulping in panting, heaving breaths as his body screams for the air that he’d denied it earlier. 

His head snaps in the direction of the front door to your apartment as he can hear the clinking and clattering of keys, his eyes narrowing a little. You weren’t at the front door. The sweet tune of the bond that you and he shared is still far too muted, nor the steady tempo of your heart. 

With his face still dripping with water, the Kakophoni stalks over to the front door, unlocking it and flicking the door open, Looming over the baseline mortal who dared to try and intrude. He looks them over with a mix of idle curiosity and mild disdain. “And who do you think you are, to try the apartment door of someone else, little morsel?”

The mortal jumps back a couple of steps, the scent of their fear perfuming the air. Their heart is prey-fast and they raise their hands up “I… I’m apartment hunting and was told that this unit… This unit was up for… for…”

Nirvikar trills in amusement, shaking his head “No no no. I asked you a question seeking knowledge, not a stuttering lie. None of the apartments in this building have been available for rent in months. You are not maintenance. You are not part of building management.” He knows that because this building was owned by an Imperial Fist and his bonded. “So why were you trying to enter this apartment, hmmmm?”

“I… Uh… I… Uhm… I must have gotten the wrong apartment! A friend of mine lives here and they asked me to -” The mortal stuttered, trembling more violently as they back further away from him.

Well, they try to get away from him, but Nirvikar isn’t one to let his prey escape easily. Tormenting a fool is always fun, and feels better than the agonizing frustration of trying to create a ballad for his beloved. “Ah-ah-ahhh, little mortal! I’ve been very patient with you, in asking for the truth twice now. Last chance for truth. Lie to me at your own risk.” He purrs, voice a silken threat. 

“I… I… I didn’t realize that there was an astartes living in this building! I thought you lot lived in oversized bunkers from land you’ve threatened and coerced from those who owned it properly!” The mortal hisses, trying to cover their fear and guilt with false fury. “Why I am here is none of your business, you twisted monstrosity!” 

Nirvikar’s smile widened, as his teeth turned to sharpened points. “Only some of us live in the bases, the land and other material used in creating them were traded for fairly… And you’re certainly not one to speak about land stolen from others. This ground has changed hands hundreds of times in the recent past, before the first Astartes ever set foot on Terra. Your pretense at a noble crusader for the unjust rings falsely.”

“You don’t deny that you’re a twisted monster?” The mortal stutters, their posture straightening a little, an odd look on their face. 

“My body has been sculpted by hands and forces that your tiny, mortal mind could not properly begin to fathom without going mad from the strain, little thief. Monster is far from the worst thing I have ever been called.” Nirvikar purrs, stalking to the mortal faster than the other could flee, his clawed hands easily snatching up the mortal “Now… What am I going to do with you?”

“Let… Let me go?” The thief with the rabbit-fast heart stutters out “I won’t… I won’t come back, I promise! I just… Things have been really hard and am really hunger-gk!” 

“Do you take me for a fool, morsel?” Nirvikar purrs, dangling the mortal by the neck as he stalks through the astartes sized halls, to a holding room. “Your lies cannot sway me. I will leave you here to ponder whether or not the lies you keep trying to spin are worth the consequences.” WIth that he lets the door swing shut, locking it from the outside and pushing a button, informing the on-site security astartes that there is a little fool to deal with. 

He returns to your apartment and tries to sing a masterpiece into being once again.