*Max can only sigh, not at Martha but at another one of his failures to communicate. He holds his hands up, palms towards Martha in a classical defensive position.* Keeper Villiers, please set down. I didn't mean to upset you, or seem like I was demanding an explanation. I simply meant to use it as an example of the difficulties I've been experiencing of late. Had I been Keeper, I would have simply told the man to go home, clean up, and not go out into public until he was presentable.
*The thin Mekhet looks down at his hands, absent-mindedly fiddling with a vest button as he thinks of the best way to phase his frustrations.* I've never been an emotional man, Keeper Villiers. My self-control and logic has served me well in the Ordo; but I feel I have taken it too far. I've let myself become almost robotic in my response to situation, to people. I know how I'm supposed to respond to stimuli, and I do so without thinking.
*He turns his full attention to Martha, locking eyes with her with honest puzzlement on his face.* How is it you've managed to hold onto that spark of humanity and humility over all these years, in the face of all that our kind must do to survive?
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Presence
Striking Looks
