His blue eyes drank in the way that the other man moved, the fluid motions that wasted nothing and barely hid the power of those limbs and body. He knew with only a few moments that this was a very deadly weapon if employed correctly, but it was also a weapon that was not yet completely molded like he was. There was always work to be done, always improvements to be made and aspects to filter and test to be certain that those harsh lessons had stuck correctly.
His own guards approached, but he paid them little mind as he instead continued to watch the weapon on the other side of the glass. They sat almost completely the same, but the other man was longer of limb and broader of chest than he was. No doubt stronger where he was faster and perhaps had more finesse, though having never seen this one move in combat training, he couldn't be certain. In a fight, he would certainly lose; his missing left arm was a disability that was impossible to overcome, though he had no idea if it had been removed purposefully or if he had suffered some accident that resulted in it being this way.
"What do you think of the weapon over there?"
He shifted his shoulders slightly and then stilled again. "If properly forged, the weapon will be unstoppable assuming that the hand on the trigger is capable of setting it." He stared across the way at the familiar sensation, the little prickle of disquiet in the blackness that was where memory would have been. It was quietest there where nothing else filled. They asked him more questions, quiet ones as if they were sharing some of kind of secret. He answered each blandly.
"What do you feel for that weapon?"
It was only then he turned his head to look up at the guards that flanked him. He tilted his head slightly as his mind rolled over the question, turning it about before he decided it wasn't a trick to earn him punishment. He went back to staring at the other man. "I do not feel," he said simply. "Being closer to him would be warm, nothing more."
That answer seemed to satisfy more than he would have thought that it would have. Then came the line of questioning on just what he would do for a chance to have that warmth from time-to-time. It seemed strange to be asked that as he had no concept of time and had by now gotten used to the fact that he was cold, but he admitted it would be novel to have some warmth for once. He told them as much.
So the reward system began to come together. He worked and did what he was told, he took on the missions that were given and in exchange, he might be given an opportunity to be warm. He shrugged almost indifferently, aware he would be doing what he was told regardless of any false promises made to him. He was a weapon; he had no choice in how he was handled.
no subject
His own guards approached, but he paid them little mind as he instead continued to watch the weapon on the other side of the glass. They sat almost completely the same, but the other man was longer of limb and broader of chest than he was. No doubt stronger where he was faster and perhaps had more finesse, though having never seen this one move in combat training, he couldn't be certain. In a fight, he would certainly lose; his missing left arm was a disability that was impossible to overcome, though he had no idea if it had been removed purposefully or if he had suffered some accident that resulted in it being this way.
"What do you think of the weapon over there?"
He shifted his shoulders slightly and then stilled again. "If properly forged, the weapon will be unstoppable assuming that the hand on the trigger is capable of setting it." He stared across the way at the familiar sensation, the little prickle of disquiet in the blackness that was where memory would have been. It was quietest there where nothing else filled. They asked him more questions, quiet ones as if they were sharing some of kind of secret. He answered each blandly.
"What do you feel for that weapon?"
It was only then he turned his head to look up at the guards that flanked him. He tilted his head slightly as his mind rolled over the question, turning it about before he decided it wasn't a trick to earn him punishment. He went back to staring at the other man. "I do not feel," he said simply. "Being closer to him would be warm, nothing more."
That answer seemed to satisfy more than he would have thought that it would have. Then came the line of questioning on just what he would do for a chance to have that warmth from time-to-time. It seemed strange to be asked that as he had no concept of time and had by now gotten used to the fact that he was cold, but he admitted it would be novel to have some warmth for once. He told them as much.
So the reward system began to come together. He worked and did what he was told, he took on the missions that were given and in exchange, he might be given an opportunity to be warm. He shrugged almost indifferently, aware he would be doing what he was told regardless of any false promises made to him. He was a weapon; he had no choice in how he was handled.