06-20-2008, 02:18 PM
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-Pretends to be alive.- >_x
>>>>>The power to kill without being seen--or, alternatively, to take a life without needing to look the victim in the eyes--was a terrifying concept. Undoubtedly, those that had tossed off the naivety of youth, were shackled to memories of vicious fights, bloodbaths in the name of religion or politics, and were educated enough to know something of the world's history before the rise of the canine--without a doubt, they had contemplated human weaponry at one point in their life. The madmen embraced it, the traditionalists despised it, and the wise feared it. Most of Anselm's training focused on tooth and claw attacks and defence, but he also knew how to use knives and how to defend against one. Guns were fascinating, and he had fired one before--but only once. In no way did he want to be responsible for using or popularising such a powerful killing device. He buried it shortly after he found it. It was unnatural, and leapt across the gap that told him knives (and even swords) could be treated as extensions of oneself, while the lethal accuracy of a gun and the ability to kill from a distance was tempting fate. The times were already chaotic enough.
>>>>>Thoughts of the war constantly raced through his mind. It was none too surprising, then, that he chose to approach one of Inferni's newer recruits--Oxford, the weapon crafter. For as much as he knew about what human weapons looked like and how to hold and use them, he knew strikingly little about their creation. His eyes widened as he watched the other male use what appeared to be a knife to create another knife. Fascinating... so these things were somewhat self-replicating? All you needed was one and some more material, and you could make more? That didn't seem quite right--in the natural world, trees might produce more trees, and deer more deer, but he had never seen those damned skyscrapers reproducing or the broken down automobiles magically healing themselves. So why was this any different? He stepped forward again silently, not wishing to interrupt, and watched with rapt attention. His tail hung neutrally toward the earth behind him, and for now he said nothing. Body language would convey enough.
>>>>>The power to kill without being seen--or, alternatively, to take a life without needing to look the victim in the eyes--was a terrifying concept. Undoubtedly, those that had tossed off the naivety of youth, were shackled to memories of vicious fights, bloodbaths in the name of religion or politics, and were educated enough to know something of the world's history before the rise of the canine--without a doubt, they had contemplated human weaponry at one point in their life. The madmen embraced it, the traditionalists despised it, and the wise feared it. Most of Anselm's training focused on tooth and claw attacks and defence, but he also knew how to use knives and how to defend against one. Guns were fascinating, and he had fired one before--but only once. In no way did he want to be responsible for using or popularising such a powerful killing device. He buried it shortly after he found it. It was unnatural, and leapt across the gap that told him knives (and even swords) could be treated as extensions of oneself, while the lethal accuracy of a gun and the ability to kill from a distance was tempting fate. The times were already chaotic enough.
>>>>>Thoughts of the war constantly raced through his mind. It was none too surprising, then, that he chose to approach one of Inferni's newer recruits--Oxford, the weapon crafter. For as much as he knew about what human weapons looked like and how to hold and use them, he knew strikingly little about their creation. His eyes widened as he watched the other male use what appeared to be a knife to create another knife. Fascinating... so these things were somewhat self-replicating? All you needed was one and some more material, and you could make more? That didn't seem quite right--in the natural world, trees might produce more trees, and deer more deer, but he had never seen those damned skyscrapers reproducing or the broken down automobiles magically healing themselves. So why was this any different? He stepped forward again silently, not wishing to interrupt, and watched with rapt attention. His tail hung neutrally toward the earth behind him, and for now he said nothing. Body language would convey enough.