Accidents [Despite the fact that someone -- the false gods, if he had to guess -- had invaded his home in the night and placed a pair of guns upon the couch, Carlisle could not fathom himself even considering touching either of them.
He knew enough about guns to recognize them: though a rarer commodity in his world than they were in many others, the weapons were not completely foreign to the clergyman. These appeared quite a bit more advanced than those he knew of, but the shape was about right -- a stock here, a trigger there, the barrel. That was the business end. With their sleek designs, Carlisle decided immediately that these looked too much like other technology for his liking, the hair on the back of his neck rising the longer he stood there and contemplated the horrible contraptions.
And on top of that, they clearly came from the supposed deities of Hadriel. Be the last one standing, hmph. Surely no one was actually going to take them up on that offer, he thought. Then again, that might be asking a bit much of people. The gods had tried to get people to kill one another before, and people were bewitched enough to go along with it. Why would it make any difference when it was a factionless free-for-all?
Carlisle snorted loudly, disdain written across him as he went to fetch some of his morning tea from the kitchen. "It appears the false gods have left us gifts," he called to Glacius, his voice dripping with loathing on that final word. Knowing how the alien feels about violence, he has no doubt his partner will agree with him on the foolishness of anyone who would buy into this event.
However, it's not just the guns themselves that are dangerous; if only Carlisle had known, he perhaps things would have been different.]
Carlisle Longinmouth [closed]
[Despite the fact that someone -- the false gods, if he had to guess -- had invaded his home in the night and placed a pair of guns upon the couch, Carlisle could not fathom himself even considering touching either of them.
He knew enough about guns to recognize them: though a rarer commodity in his world than they were in many others, the weapons were not completely foreign to the clergyman. These appeared quite a bit more advanced than those he knew of, but the shape was about right -- a stock here, a trigger there, the barrel. That was the business end. With their sleek designs, Carlisle decided immediately that these looked too much like other technology for his liking, the hair on the back of his neck rising the longer he stood there and contemplated the horrible contraptions.
And on top of that, they clearly came from the supposed deities of Hadriel. Be the last one standing, hmph. Surely no one was actually going to take them up on that offer, he thought. Then again, that might be asking a bit much of people. The gods had tried to get people to kill one another before, and people were bewitched enough to go along with it. Why would it make any difference when it was a factionless free-for-all?
Carlisle snorted loudly, disdain written across him as he went to fetch some of his morning tea from the kitchen. "It appears the false gods have left us gifts," he called to Glacius, his voice dripping with loathing on that final word. Knowing how the alien feels about violence, he has no doubt his partner will agree with him on the foolishness of anyone who would buy into this event.
However, it's not just the guns themselves that are dangerous; if only Carlisle had known, he perhaps things would have been different.]