[Rome isn't sure if he's entirely comfortable with this sort of talk, particularly aimed at Maketh. He's no stranger to seeing his handlers scolded, but it's different when she isn't in the room, when the scolding is less about the way orders were executed and more about outright treason.
It doesn't seem to be a particularly easy topic for Nick either, and Rome knows that Maketh cared for him very much- he must have cared for her in turn, even if he's disparaging her now. He's growing to learn how that kind of care works, how friends will correct one another without a structure of power in place adhering them to one another's judgement, but it's still foreign enough to him that he has to consciously think about it when he sees it happening.]
I understand.
[And he does, sort of. He understands that Maketh acted against the principles of the guard, and he understands that he went with her anyway, that he treated her word as law above Nick and Henry's, and that that was a mistake. He understands that the morality of his current superiors is in contrast to Maketh's viewpoints, and in order to prove his loyalty, his own morality should align with Nick's and not hers... it shouldn't pose too much of a problem. Rome has never particularly cared for the gods one way or another: his duty has been to the people here and to those who would give him orders. Whether they want to sacrifice their own to kill the gods, or protect the civilians here, it makes no difference to him.
That counts for something though. He doesn't know what that something is, but- well, Rome has been operating by his own will since Maketh left. His own will brought him back here, to Nick. That counts for something, apparently.
Doesn't it?]
I understand if you don't deem me as trustworthy, [he says, focused again now that the topic has moved away from his own beliefs,] but I put the Guard above everything else in my life. I hope that you understand that. I know that my needs are- unique.
[Schedules operating around the lunar cycle, whatever this handler business is, and apparently now education in morality.]
-but the structure is- I can't operate without it. I will do anything you ask of me, without complaint or hesitation, but I'm... I'm not good on my own. Since miss Maketh and now Morgan left, I'm not...
[How does he even end that sentence? Admitting weakness isn't necessarily easy for him, and the thought of listlessness or melancholy is not one that he'd be able to come up with on his own. Romulus is a little like a greyhound, trained to do one specific thing and do it well, and when there's no challenge, no order, no game to make of it, he's going a little out of his own head.
He sighs.]
...I'm not being utilized well. Many here were uncomfortable with the idea of a handler, but- it's helpful, to be guided. I believe I perform better with one.
[Nick understands that need for structure; he understands how rules and the chain of command help some people, even if he is against taking it to an extreme, abusing the power like Maketh did. He's met enough soldiers and cops to know that some folks prefer to just do what their told, never questioning the higher-ups and their decisions. There was a time the real Nick might have done that, and look where it got him.
However, he also understands loss, and the feeling of being left alone in the world because of it. He understands the struggle of finding a place and a purpose. He knows firsthand what it's like to have to forge an identity, something other than what a person -- machine or otherwise -- was made for. Nick the synth has been there, and still deals with it even now as he's stepped into this new position within the Guard. Maketh has been gone for months now, and he's still trying to figure out just what it is he brings to the table as the co-head of the Guard. He's not military like Maketh was, not a charismatic fighter like Henry. He has a far different perspective.
Maybe that's why, despite that he's not comfortable with this 'handler' concept, Nick does his best to find a compromise between their individual ideologies. He hasn't worked closely with Rome, but he's never known the guy to be anything but dedicated to the Guard -- maybe that was all because of Maketh, but even with her gone, he's still here. This is the first time, as far as Nick knows, that Rome has really crossed a line, and as much of a doozy as it is, there are some extenuating circumstances at play. That makes him reluctant to immediately pin Rome as entirely untrustworthy. Counts for something, indeed.
The problem is if Rome is still operating under this whole 'handler' rhetoric, they'd better make sure whomever is next in line isn't the type who'd greet a fella with one hand and stab him in the back with the other. From the message earlier, Rome seemed to imply he is the next step on the ladder. Nick pulls in a breath, pushing out a quiet sigh. Change isn't easy. He knows that well, too.]
Look. I appreciate you bringing this up... and better late than never. [He's just glad it's not too late.] You're gonna have to learn to make your own decisions sometime, but until then, I'll do what I can, if that's what'll help. All right?
[The look in his glowing eyes is one of sincerity, his tone even once more as he speaks. He might not be happy about this stray god killer situation, but he's not the sort to stew in his anger. He's the type to try to make things work.
And perhaps that's why Nick is right for this position within the Guard, no matter how much he doubts it sometimes.]
[It's not an unfamiliar sentiment. Morgan has said the same thing, Kyna does even now. You're gonna have to learn to make your own decisions Nick says, and Rome nods hesitantly because- well, he knows that, more or less. As much as he craves the structure of his military back home, that will never be replicated in Hadriel, and unless one of his handlers waltzes through the Door, he doubts that he'd be able to find someone who knows just how to deal with him.
Still, almost sixty years of training and service is difficult to undo, and Rome has struggled for a long time in Hadriel with knowing where to start. What he had with Maketh was good, but it wasn't sustainable- nothing seems to be sustainable here, and while Rome has always been adaptive on the battlefield, he's never had to adapt his entire lifestyle to anything else.]
Alright.
[Rome agrees quietly, understanding that this is likely the best offer that he'll get- and if Nick is willing to work with him, then maybe he can change his perspective. His jaw goes tight for a few moments as he tries to consider the possibility of what Kyna wants, of what Morgan wanted for him and what Nick is gently trying to reinforce now: of being his own person, making his own decisions. The agency is frightening, a little overwhelming, but this is his reality now. It's been his reality since Maketh left, really- and he hasn't snapped in the months since, hasn't transformed and killed anyone, has stayed dedicated to his principles and the principles of the guard.
So maybe- he can keep doing that. And maybe the loss of direction will eventually fade. All he can do is try.]
[Nick is grateful Rome seems to be willing to work with him on this, though there's no telling just yet on what he wants to do and what he feels he has to do. Loyalty to a cause -- or to a person, or to any singular goal -- is tough like that. It can as damning a quality as it is good, especially when that allegiance is taken to an extreme... or willfully abused, as it seems was the case with Maketh and her pet soldier, one she knew she could use against the very Guard she'd established if she needed to.
And ultimately, she did. That's something that will never sit well with Nick, but he's just going to have to learn to live with it. There's no changing what happened, no taking back how she nearly destroyed the credibility of the Guard she'd once worked so hard to build. Maybe all the good they do will be her eventual legacy, and not what happened in the end.
Nick straightens up just a bit, giving Rome a nod.]
Yeah. Let's handle that first, and maybe on the way, you can fill me in on what would work best for you when it comes to your place with us.
[He's still not sure about this handler business, but when Nick said he wanted to help Rome, he meant it. While he has yet to see just how far Rome can be trusted, especially in terms of what else he might still be doing under Maketh's orders, Nick isn't ready to give up on someone who frankly seems like he'd be better with the Guard than without it. They need all the hands they can get, and Rome needs order: it's a good trade-off for the most part, even with Rome's odd needs. Nick doesn't know much about Rome aside from what's in his file, but he's not the only one on the Guard with some unusual accommodations.]
[He moves to take his leave, beckoning for Nick to follow him. It's a ways- better for conversation, worse for expediency- but neither of them seem to have much else to do that's as pressing as this.
Rome starts to think then, about what he might need. It's not a question that has been posed to him in quite that manner before, and it's not something that he thinks he's ever really had to consider. Others knew what he needed, his handlers and superiors knew what he needed- but he's nothing if not blunt and honest, and so Rome assesses his own situation for a few moments of silence before speaking.]
I'm a werewolf, as I'm sure you're aware. I was infected shortly after birth and raised in a military setting to be a combat companion for an officer- my handler. [That's easy enough. He considers for a moment, before continuing.] My... affliction, it allows me to function in combat ways that normal humans cannot, but comes with the drawback of making me less like them.
I've been told that I'm dangerous and I must be kept on a short leash to avoid loss of control. I haven't personally experienced that yet, but I'm always aware of the possibility.
[He frowns then, leading Nick up toward the spires- the ruined ones, that always seem to loom over the city as a reminder of the destruction that once happened there.]
Day to day... my mental functions are lower than a human's. I shouldn't be trusted to make decisions on my own unless necessary. I'm- well. It's crude, but some of my superiors would joke that we're dogs who can talk. The comparison is not without merit.
[Though, he remembers how angry and sad Kyna had gotten when he'd mentioned it. It's not something he brings up around her anymore.]
[While Nick is aware of some of that, having been through Rome's file, that does explain the handler situation well. It's more of a literal definition than some colloquial nickname for the position. That doesn't make the synth any more comfortable with it, though, especially with the way Rome describes himself.]
Maybe not, but some folks would tell me the same because I'm a synth. That I can't be trusted, or that I can't think like a human can. You're just a dog, and I'm just a machine incapable of real thought.
[And while Nick has a tendency to doubt his own personhood, the tone of his voice says he doesn't think the same for Rome for even an instant. Maybe it's different where Rome is from, but Nick will believe it when he sees it. He might have been raised for a single purpose, but that doesn't mean that's all he's capable of.]
[It's a sentiment he's heard before- not from Nick of course, but Kyna, Morgan... hell, even Tucker. Rome is at the point where he can admit that there's some merit to it, but just how much, he doesn't know. Surely not enough to invalidate his years of training, but beyond that?]
I don't know what you are, [he finally admits, his tone blunt as usual,] you smell like oil and leather and metal. There's no blood or bone in your body. That does make you a machine, doesn't it?
[He pauses there, understanding that this wasn't quite the point, but also... kind of not. After all the horrible things he's done, Rome is still absolutely naive in some ways, and so when he poses the question, it's completely innocent.]
[Nick takes neither Rome's confession, nor his questions with any offense. In all fairness, that last one is a good question, one he's asked himself several times. He answers his subordinate's innocence with honesty.]
To be completely frank, I don't really know. All my behavior comes from the memories and personality of a cop that had his brain scanned about two hundred years ago. Well, two hundred years prior to where I'm from.
[Explanations get a lot more complicated when one has to consider other worlds and times. He sets his eyes on the spires ahead and continues, that weight at the back of his neck tell him that he should:]
I feel human enough, but all it takes is a look in the mirror to remind myself that I'm not. I'm a synth, Institute-made. This body runs diagnostics like a computer, lets me know what should be hurting, even when it doesn't. I don't have to sleep or eat. I don't bleed the same way a real man might, even the man whose judgment and reasoning are programmed into my main hardware.
[So he isn't real, is absolutely a machine. Does that make him less of a person? That's a question he's asked himself several times, too.]
[Romulus considers that for a moment, as a few more things about who Nick is begins to fall into place. He'd never known much about him, really- all of his interaction with the guard had mainly been through Maketh, and Nick... well, he knew that he was some kind of robot, that's about it.]
You want to, though.
[He comments, unusually perceptive.]
To be human. Maybe not- the body or the flesh, but I've always felt that there was something more to them, something that feels... different. How smart they are or how emotional they are, or how they know what to do, or- [it's hard when he's never quite learned the words to describe what it is he's trying to convey, but it's an important conversation and he tries his best to make some kind of sense.]
-maybe it's a soul. Maybe you know what it feels like, if you used to be one. I've always accepted that I don't have what they have, whatever it is... I can't really tell if you have it either.
[He's gotten a little off topic now, more wondering out loud than anything at all, and when he realizes that he's trailed away from the conversation, he shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets as they walk.]
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no subject
It doesn't seem to be a particularly easy topic for Nick either, and Rome knows that Maketh cared for him very much- he must have cared for her in turn, even if he's disparaging her now. He's growing to learn how that kind of care works, how friends will correct one another without a structure of power in place adhering them to one another's judgement, but it's still foreign enough to him that he has to consciously think about it when he sees it happening.]
I understand.
[And he does, sort of. He understands that Maketh acted against the principles of the guard, and he understands that he went with her anyway, that he treated her word as law above Nick and Henry's, and that that was a mistake. He understands that the morality of his current superiors is in contrast to Maketh's viewpoints, and in order to prove his loyalty, his own morality should align with Nick's and not hers... it shouldn't pose too much of a problem. Rome has never particularly cared for the gods one way or another: his duty has been to the people here and to those who would give him orders. Whether they want to sacrifice their own to kill the gods, or protect the civilians here, it makes no difference to him.
That counts for something though. He doesn't know what that something is, but- well, Rome has been operating by his own will since Maketh left. His own will brought him back here, to Nick. That counts for something, apparently.
Doesn't it?]
I understand if you don't deem me as trustworthy, [he says, focused again now that the topic has moved away from his own beliefs,] but I put the Guard above everything else in my life. I hope that you understand that. I know that my needs are- unique.
[Schedules operating around the lunar cycle, whatever this handler business is, and apparently now education in morality.]
-but the structure is- I can't operate without it. I will do anything you ask of me, without complaint or hesitation, but I'm... I'm not good on my own. Since miss Maketh and now Morgan left, I'm not...
[How does he even end that sentence? Admitting weakness isn't necessarily easy for him, and the thought of listlessness or melancholy is not one that he'd be able to come up with on his own. Romulus is a little like a greyhound, trained to do one specific thing and do it well, and when there's no challenge, no order, no game to make of it, he's going a little out of his own head.
He sighs.]
...I'm not being utilized well. Many here were uncomfortable with the idea of a handler, but- it's helpful, to be guided. I believe I perform better with one.
no subject
However, he also understands loss, and the feeling of being left alone in the world because of it. He understands the struggle of finding a place and a purpose. He knows firsthand what it's like to have to forge an identity, something other than what a person -- machine or otherwise -- was made for. Nick the synth has been there, and still deals with it even now as he's stepped into this new position within the Guard. Maketh has been gone for months now, and he's still trying to figure out just what it is he brings to the table as the co-head of the Guard. He's not military like Maketh was, not a charismatic fighter like Henry. He has a far different perspective.
Maybe that's why, despite that he's not comfortable with this 'handler' concept, Nick does his best to find a compromise between their individual ideologies. He hasn't worked closely with Rome, but he's never known the guy to be anything but dedicated to the Guard -- maybe that was all because of Maketh, but even with her gone, he's still here. This is the first time, as far as Nick knows, that Rome has really crossed a line, and as much of a doozy as it is, there are some extenuating circumstances at play. That makes him reluctant to immediately pin Rome as entirely untrustworthy. Counts for something, indeed.
The problem is if Rome is still operating under this whole 'handler' rhetoric, they'd better make sure whomever is next in line isn't the type who'd greet a fella with one hand and stab him in the back with the other. From the message earlier, Rome seemed to imply he is the next step on the ladder. Nick pulls in a breath, pushing out a quiet sigh. Change isn't easy. He knows that well, too.]
Look. I appreciate you bringing this up... and better late than never. [He's just glad it's not too late.] You're gonna have to learn to make your own decisions sometime, but until then, I'll do what I can, if that's what'll help. All right?
[The look in his glowing eyes is one of sincerity, his tone even once more as he speaks. He might not be happy about this stray god killer situation, but he's not the sort to stew in his anger. He's the type to try to make things work.
And perhaps that's why Nick is right for this position within the Guard, no matter how much he doubts it sometimes.]
no subject
Still, almost sixty years of training and service is difficult to undo, and Rome has struggled for a long time in Hadriel with knowing where to start. What he had with Maketh was good, but it wasn't sustainable- nothing seems to be sustainable here, and while Rome has always been adaptive on the battlefield, he's never had to adapt his entire lifestyle to anything else.]
Alright.
[Rome agrees quietly, understanding that this is likely the best offer that he'll get- and if Nick is willing to work with him, then maybe he can change his perspective. His jaw goes tight for a few moments as he tries to consider the possibility of what Kyna wants, of what Morgan wanted for him and what Nick is gently trying to reinforce now: of being his own person, making his own decisions. The agency is frightening, a little overwhelming, but this is his reality now. It's been his reality since Maketh left, really- and he hasn't snapped in the months since, hasn't transformed and killed anyone, has stayed dedicated to his principles and the principles of the guard.
So maybe- he can keep doing that. And maybe the loss of direction will eventually fade. All he can do is try.]
Would you like me to take you to the god killer?
no subject
And ultimately, she did. That's something that will never sit well with Nick, but he's just going to have to learn to live with it. There's no changing what happened, no taking back how she nearly destroyed the credibility of the Guard she'd once worked so hard to build. Maybe all the good they do will be her eventual legacy, and not what happened in the end.
Nick straightens up just a bit, giving Rome a nod.]
Yeah. Let's handle that first, and maybe on the way, you can fill me in on what would work best for you when it comes to your place with us.
[He's still not sure about this handler business, but when Nick said he wanted to help Rome, he meant it. While he has yet to see just how far Rome can be trusted, especially in terms of what else he might still be doing under Maketh's orders, Nick isn't ready to give up on someone who frankly seems like he'd be better with the Guard than without it. They need all the hands they can get, and Rome needs order: it's a good trade-off for the most part, even with Rome's odd needs. Nick doesn't know much about Rome aside from what's in his file, but he's not the only one on the Guard with some unusual accommodations.]
no subject
[He moves to take his leave, beckoning for Nick to follow him. It's a ways- better for conversation, worse for expediency- but neither of them seem to have much else to do that's as pressing as this.
Rome starts to think then, about what he might need. It's not a question that has been posed to him in quite that manner before, and it's not something that he thinks he's ever really had to consider. Others knew what he needed, his handlers and superiors knew what he needed- but he's nothing if not blunt and honest, and so Rome assesses his own situation for a few moments of silence before speaking.]
I'm a werewolf, as I'm sure you're aware. I was infected shortly after birth and raised in a military setting to be a combat companion for an officer- my handler. [That's easy enough. He considers for a moment, before continuing.] My... affliction, it allows me to function in combat ways that normal humans cannot, but comes with the drawback of making me less like them.
I've been told that I'm dangerous and I must be kept on a short leash to avoid loss of control. I haven't personally experienced that yet, but I'm always aware of the possibility.
[He frowns then, leading Nick up toward the spires- the ruined ones, that always seem to loom over the city as a reminder of the destruction that once happened there.]
Day to day... my mental functions are lower than a human's. I shouldn't be trusted to make decisions on my own unless necessary. I'm- well. It's crude, but some of my superiors would joke that we're dogs who can talk. The comparison is not without merit.
[Though, he remembers how angry and sad Kyna had gotten when he'd mentioned it. It's not something he brings up around her anymore.]
no subject
Maybe not, but some folks would tell me the same because I'm a synth. That I can't be trusted, or that I can't think like a human can. You're just a dog, and I'm just a machine incapable of real thought.
[And while Nick has a tendency to doubt his own personhood, the tone of his voice says he doesn't think the same for Rome for even an instant. Maybe it's different where Rome is from, but Nick will believe it when he sees it. He might have been raised for a single purpose, but that doesn't mean that's all he's capable of.]
no subject
I don't know what you are, [he finally admits, his tone blunt as usual,] you smell like oil and leather and metal. There's no blood or bone in your body. That does make you a machine, doesn't it?
[He pauses there, understanding that this wasn't quite the point, but also... kind of not. After all the horrible things he's done, Rome is still absolutely naive in some ways, and so when he poses the question, it's completely innocent.]
Do you think the way humans do?
no subject
To be completely frank, I don't really know. All my behavior comes from the memories and personality of a cop that had his brain scanned about two hundred years ago. Well, two hundred years prior to where I'm from.
[Explanations get a lot more complicated when one has to consider other worlds and times. He sets his eyes on the spires ahead and continues, that weight at the back of his neck tell him that he should:]
I feel human enough, but all it takes is a look in the mirror to remind myself that I'm not. I'm a synth, Institute-made. This body runs diagnostics like a computer, lets me know what should be hurting, even when it doesn't. I don't have to sleep or eat. I don't bleed the same way a real man might, even the man whose judgment and reasoning are programmed into my main hardware.
[So he isn't real, is absolutely a machine. Does that make him less of a person? That's a question he's asked himself several times, too.]
no subject
You want to, though.
[He comments, unusually perceptive.]
To be human. Maybe not- the body or the flesh, but I've always felt that there was something more to them, something that feels... different. How smart they are or how emotional they are, or how they know what to do, or- [it's hard when he's never quite learned the words to describe what it is he's trying to convey, but it's an important conversation and he tries his best to make some kind of sense.]
-maybe it's a soul. Maybe you know what it feels like, if you used to be one. I've always accepted that I don't have what they have, whatever it is... I can't really tell if you have it either.
[He's gotten a little off topic now, more wondering out loud than anything at all, and when he realizes that he's trailed away from the conversation, he shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets as they walk.]
I just know what they tell me.