Kent's eyeborws rose slightly in honest amusement, and a similar exprssion made the proper adjustments to his facial features. He countered the paternalistic attitude of his counterpart with a calm, defiant rejection, if not dry, sarcastic snark.
"I knew not that your olfactory senses granted you a level of omniscience, especially given that I imagine most soldiers like me keep to good hygiene...Of course, I make these assumptions based on the fact that you're still human."
Turning around, Kent faced the man with withdrawn features, the lighting obscuring his upper facial features, his stance austere and serene. "Based on your own audacious statements, I'd judge you to be more than that. It's not cybernetics, because they don't appear to be present in your body...that leaves magic enhancement, which would be an unusual choice of sensory alteration. The only real viable choice left is shapeshifting to a form that has naturally enhanced olfactory senses, like a werewolf or some other. How close am I?"
His feet, on closer inspection, had a defensive position, as well as his relaxed arms.
Post by Steinerman on Jun 17, 2012 12:12:41 GMT -5
Martin flashed the other man a manic grin, "You got me, I'm a shapeshifter. Good nose is one of the perks." He cocked his head to the side thoughtfully, would it be better to let the man believe he was a werewolf, or let him know he was actually a weretiger? That was something of a conundrum.
Of the two, weretigers were easily the more vicious, sadistic and perverse. But they were also a good deal better at public relations than the wolves, and had shifted most of the stories of monstrous things to the canines. Thus, werewolves were reviled and weretigers were relatively unknown.
"Though I don't howl at the moon." He added on a moment later, letting the other man make what he would out of that.
Kent continued to find himself surprised at Martin's causual forthcoming. Normally, he used to turn on all the pain receptors within a target's nervous system to get the information he wanted. Perhaps the level of manipulation he assumed would be necessary could be easily subtituted with simple dialogue, let alone alcohol.
"Fascinating. I have yet to meet any werewolves in person, so I have nothing to say other than that maybe some don't howl at the moon," Kent reasoned aloud in response. His expression held no response to the grin that the weretiger flashed at him, knowing that any sign of doing so would give away more of his perceptive powers than he would like, as well as a potential sign of weakness. He wished to express neither, the former because of his shrewd conditioning, and the latter because it was simply not true.
"Whatever you are, such musings are not soup questions for me; they hold little relevance as to how I would treat you. Keep out my pallet of reasons for ending a life, and perhaps we could get along fine."
Post by Steinerman on Jun 18, 2012 18:10:34 GMT -5
"So you're not denying you're a soldier anymore, eh?" Martin said, still walking at an easy pace. "And a pallet of reasons for killing people, eh? You're one of those wordy killers, I take it." He shook his head and chuckled, "Ah well, not like I'm out to get shot by you. Though I suppose it'd be nice to know what exactly is included in your 'pallet" of reasons to kill people, that way I don't accidentally trip up." He ended, the barest hint of sarcasm in his light-hearted tone.
"I never said anything about being or not being a soldier," Kent pointed out quietly, maintaining a certain distance away from the weretiger's stride. "I merely said that I possess the ability to end life prematurely. I never said anything about ascribing to a certain political faction, nor said anything about being in employ of a government."
At Martin's next statement, the human remained silent for awhile before speaking. "My thoughts are in the ideal, while my actions are in the pragmatic. I take no pleasure in necessary evils, but given the infamy to gain the paperwork for a bounty on one's head, and adequate reason for you to have aquired it, I would end their life with little sleep lost."
Post by Steinerman on Jun 18, 2012 22:59:04 GMT -5
Martin turned his fiery eyes curiously towards the other man. "Very wordy." He affirmed, half to himself. "And a moralist, it seems, to boot. Yet a killer." His smiled faded ever-so-slightly and his eyes took on a thoughtful look.
"Well, stranger, color me intrigued. You sound more like a scholar, than a killer. Yet profess to be something of a killer. What brings you to this lovely Stamarian port, may I ask?" And here his voice lost most of its humor and took on something more akin to courteous curiosity.
Likewise, Kent's demeanor also softened, though it gave way to a more impassive face than a kinder one. He simply appeared more at peace than irritated or hostile. "I came here to take a break, visit family." The human felt it safe enough to reveal their prescence at least in this continent, and he had yet to give the weretiger his name in the rare case that he would go seek out those close to him. "As for killing..." Morgan mentioned quietly with a turning of gaze.
"It is best for one to be fully aware of what he's doing. To choice to end a life should be done in consideration to your own life, as he or she has their own shares of dreams, hopes, and experiences that which have coincided lethally with one's own. Such decisions therefore, should not and do not weigh lightly. A killer, therefore, is either a man who can justify his or his affiliates needs to be greater than the victim or his community, or someone who simply accepts the fact that they're a murderer."
Post by Steinerman on Jun 19, 2012 22:29:53 GMT -5
"You put a great deal of thought into killing, good sir." Martin remarked lightly, a fair dash of crazy sparkling in his eyes. "I generally think of it as who I'd prefer die more. Myself or my opponent. Needless to say, I'm rather addicted to life, so my opponent's the one to go."
He shook his head with puzzlement. "Why put so much thought into it? Does it help you to realize that your enemy is someone with hopes and dreams? Frankly, I imagine most people would find it disconcerting and horrifying. Much better to not really think of your enemy as anything but skills and threat levels."
The human continued to regard the weretiger cooly, with cautioned and reasoned regard. It was his subtle counter to the face presented before him, before similing softly. "An addiction to life is a terrible debilitation. Life is so overrated. No matter what people do, they die anyways, and memories will eventually fade out with the tide. Existence is pointless if not for a hope of making a few things fun for yourself and others before the end."
Again, he turned his gaze to face the crowd, as they emerged on the other side of the alley into another crowded street, noticably emptier because of the commotion just a block away. "Besides, helping myself in dehumanizing my enemy is a direct appeal to my own ignorance. Ignorance has never helped anybody but in that they were guided to my crosshairs that much easier. I'd rather face the truth and dwell safely in it than try to deny who they are. It also demands a justification for such an evil that we have decided to call 'murder'."
Martin's attention was caught for a moment by a particularly exotic dancer winding through the street, followed closely by an orphan with an upturned hat for donations. His eyes followed the beautiful woman, drinking in the sight of her. Finally, though, he dragged his attention away and back to his companion from the alley. "Eh? Murder, you say." he stated curiously.
"I call it killing. I'd only call it murder if I attacked someone who couldn't defend themselves, an innocent. And goodness knows there's few enough innocents in this world."
His mind ran over the past few moments, bouncing back-and-forth between his companion and the dancer like a pinball. "Not sure if I'd call it ignorance, though. Selective targeting, more like. If you weigh yourself down with the thoughts that your enemy might be just like you, it could lead to your death. Your hand might halter for a fraction of a second. I think we both know how important that second can be."
Kent noticed the shift of attention, but said nothing about it. Inwardly, he felt his heart twist in disgust about the situation. Respectable women did not have to display such vanity, and the orphan with her did not garner from him any pity. For the moment, he took the time to soley attend to his own needs; a need for relaxation and meditation away from the suffering that met his eyes. He could not do it. It was only an escapism he had hated. It still did not mean, however, that he would donate any monetary funds for their cause. He brought not the amount of money to spare, not in his eyes.
At present, he made his reply to the weretiger. "Killing is killing, and it is still the causation of a premature death, as murder. The distinction makes little difference in this world, for no one is truly innocent. Everyone has sins in another's eyes. In this chaotic world...justification for anything is possible."
His pace was in the deliberate opposite direction of the suffering couple, hoping to distance himself from the sight as soon as he was able to in the crowds. "Selective targeting, or half-truth. Truth in this regard can be manipulated to make anything right. It's what many claim to do. Take this global conflict, for example. Paternalism versus divine right. Iron fists versus sly terrorism. It's all the same. Everybody thinks their right, the question is the matter of who has the means of enforcing their belief upon others to unite the world in their attempt to prove that their ideal is right."
Martin turned an annoyed glare on his companion. "You hide behind your words." He accused. "You speak as though an observer, not someone in this world. Killing, murder, they are different, and its what separates the monsters from the men."
He sighed, trying to control his emotions. Something about the man's views of the world set his teeth on edge. Reminded him of something long forgotten, and well-forgotten, at that. He had no wish to remember how to feel like that. "You justify what you do by removing yourself from the equation, sitting high and lofty in your cloud of morals, observing. If you view murder and killing as the same thing, then I fear you are lost." He shook his head sharply, as though trying to clear it.
Again, his gaze strayed back to the dancer, her exquisite body writhing as she made her way sensually down the street. Though as he watched her, his mind thought not of her, but of Ann . . . he was such a fool, he reflected glumly.
Kent replied without emotion, his words cold and chilling. "Then those who surpass that of 'men' will come to dominate the world, and bring about a new world order, for better or for worse. I hardly see the greatness about men anyway. You yourself are not man, not fully."
The human's serene gaze caught the sigh and the frustration of the beast before him, evoking a sense of curiosity to the man's past, though he knew not enough information so as to act on it. "Lost? In your view, perhaps. And since when did I say that I observe only? My morals are separate from yours, my island different than your island. There is no difference in height; I simply decide to build artillery on mine."