[h1]James Lockheart[/h1]
[hr]Mhril, Baron's estate, Some office[hr]

James chuckled a bit at Evangeline's initial response to his question, a hollow and dry laught that didn't carry and real humor to it. He repositioned himself a bit so that he was reclining into the chair, no longer carving in the corruptive energy he now possessed into the fancy piece of carpentry, though the damage that had been done to the chair had made the leg rather unstable. As Evangeline brought up his little 'freakout' as it were, he simply shrugged his shoulders a bit, looking off to the side as he considered getting himself another sandwich, since she didn't seem to want one. He had no real explanation for what had happened to him, or was currently happening to him as an apparent result, but it had helped him to kill the beast, so he didn't mind too much. It was simply another mystery that seemed like more trouble than it was worth to get into.

His aloof manner apparently was causing Evangeline some distress however, as he notice how her body seemed to tense up a bit, the dilation of her eyes barely visible as she slammed her hands onto the desk, almost demanding answers about why he was so come in the face of these events . . . and if he'd noticed anything strange during the battle. [i]I wonder if she's wondering why I'm not bothered by the killings or the fat that weird things seemed to have happened to us? Probably both now that i think about it[/i] James didn't answer immediately, taking the time to collect his thoughts, his dark red eyes swiveling from Evangeline to Cidolphus to Sable, the last two having entered after the Saboteur's outburst. Once they had each said their piece, James decided that it was about time for him to give his own thoughts on the matter, turning his eyes to Evangeline again.

"I'm calm because I don't see anything to freak out about. I'm alive, I've got all my arms and limbs, and as far as I can figure, i have enough sanity intact to properly do my job. That's all I truly care about at the moment. If the deaths of those soldiers are bothering you, than I can't help you. I didn't know any of them, and even if I did, they knew the job they were signing up for. Death is always waiting for us, the cold blade of it's scythe held to our necks with every waking moment." James chose this moment to stand, reaching his full height as he proceeded to make a slow lap around the room, drawing a single finger along the wall as he did so. A line of black rot would follower the appendege, marking the power his inner beast had given him with it's influence. "If it's the strange events that happened on that battlefield, again, I can't help you. As far as what happened, I can't say I saw much since I was a bit busy fighting a giant murder bird to notice much of what was going on the ground. From what little I did see, it seems that we aren't as human as we believed ourselves to be."

James finished his circuit around the room as he finished speaking, a curl of black smoke seeming to trail from his finger as he removed it from the wall, a stray thought factoring in that he should probably avoid damaging anymore of the Baron's things, lest he be held accountable for them, or worse yet, get them kicked out of the man's home.

"In all honesty, I don't know why I'm as calm about this as I am. Maybe it's because I have no memories of anything before the SOLDIER program, only vague glimpses of a past life. . . and those brief glimpses have given me such vivid nightmares that I never truly dare to go digging into my past. I'm a SOLDIER. It's is how I live, and it'll be how I die, whether it be today, tomorrow, or ten years from now. I've never truly felt a strong fear of my own mortality, nor have I truly felt any truly powerful feelings since I first came to be aware of myself in my room after the initial trials of the Program. I believe that they're sealed up with the rest of my memories, and if they'll cause me to give such an outburst as you've done, Evangeline, than I'd rather not have them. No offense to you, or any of you really, but I'd rather remain as I am. It's not exciting or thrilling for the most part to be me, but at least I know I'm sane. From the glimpses I have had into my own head, memories revealed in certain moments of recollection . . . I can say for certain that the man I used to be was significantly less so."