Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20191120203148/@comment-27666783-20191216114026

(@Hound)

Purges… the word permeated inside of Bertram's mind, reflecting off of the back of his eyes. His mannerism changed, contact with Renwick moving to a listless stare. His hands move to his gun pocket, not a threat as the gun remained empty from last night, it was almost like a act of muscle memory. His fingers ritualistically rubbing on the flap where the butt of the pistol was.

"You have merit in your words, our reputation precedes us." Bertram's eyes lean upward, vacant as he continues to handle his pocket. "We are not above thirsts, just like Mamono. It compels us, allures us to do things. And yet the aspect we most feared, was that your kind had a conscience too." His breath almost quivered, before he wrenched his hand back to the table. "How could we justify ourselves then?" The hand, so laborously rubbing the stock of the pistol before, turned upward and under his analyzing gaze.

"You have no reason to trust me, Renwick. I am everything that would promote every reason not to. An Inquisitor headed for the pyre for treason, with every reason to try and get back in the Inquisition's good graces. But I can't, not when I've come this far. I'm willing to listen to this oath."