{oOo}
He stood in the dark holding the jar of acid in one hand, fumbling with his armor with his other. He had turned off the lights to lower the risk of seeing the skin even from the corner of his eye.
He felt...strange. His mind was settled, utterly balanced-and on all sides the abyss yawned in hunger. His thoughts were as clear as starlight. He would have to be careful about the plague wounds in case he was carrying something-hadn't he meant to mention that to his brothers? But he had been distracted. Weakness. He flinched away before he fell.
The nice quarter master said he would send the acid over when he finished gathering it. Nice man. There'd be plenty of left over, when he was clean he could clean his real armor too and then put it on like Konrad wanted. It would make his brother happy, he thought.
"Fulgrim."
Oh, here was Konrad now, his voice sounded...odd. Fulgrim smiled at him, barely able to make him out with the contrast of the brightly lit corridor behind him. "Oh, Brother. Why are you here? I was just cleaning up," his lips twitched downwards as he realized that maybe his friend wouldn't want to be here while he washed himself.
Konrad stepped into the room letting the door close behind him. "Fulgrim, what were you going to do with that acid?" His eyes adjusted almost instantly to the comfortable darkness. The Chaos armor Fulgrim had refused to remove had been scowered to its base-mechanically.
Fulgrim blinked at him, and swayed at the ankle, as if the ship's gravity field had tilted in relation to the deck. "I-I," quieter voice, not the false assurance from before, "I shouldn't lie to you, Konrad." He was blinking hard now.
"No, you shouldn't, brother." Arms spread, stepping closer to him, slowly. "You know I will find out and then what would be the point."
"You're my brother, you might go, I should be thankful. I should be polite. I was going to clean up." He smiled, wry broken humor. "I'm a mess, brother. I have to get it off me. G-g-get it o-aw-off."
Careful, take his wrist, move it away from him, gentle slow motion of a combat disarm. Watch his eyes carefully, "Get what off?" Keep him talking.
"You put me back in my b-b-body. It's not mine. It's all wr-!" He choked it down, bowing his head and then raising it, eyes crazed. "It's not your fault the...vessel is corrupted." Shudder. "I'm sorry brother, I can't say more, I...I fear I'm going to start scr-screaming and go even more mad. Y-y-you." It was so hard to say! "You can look at it." He wrenched his head away with the effort to say that and stared at the far ceiling corner.
{oOo}
