07-10-2019, 06:17 PM
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Machiavelli's ear flicked backward and his eyes flashed warily as he was given more questions to answer. Perhaps he could not blame the android -- as he had been rather vague in his words, but he was still treading unfamiliar grounds. This world was very different than the one he lived in. His powers couldn't work and he could not think of a solution to get himself out of this. He was painfully confused as to why RK515 was questioning him as if he were a pet. Not many animals were sentient from where he was from. The other pet dogs had none of his advanced intelligence, so he was a little surprised to hear something asking him questions as if they were a pet dog that had just gained sentience and thought he was one of their own.
Machiavelli would not let himself be owned by anyone. He was bound by loyalties of community.
Then, he had to realize he was not in his world and RK515 would not be familiar with his kind. It would be difficult to explain. Perhaps he could just go off the notion that he was an ordinary mortal dog. Was the android capable of detecting lies? The Anatolian Shepherd had taken note that the wolf's robotic eye had changed colors again. He weighed his options carefully, turning it over in his mind. If he did lie, what story should he use?
His first "owner" had been the Venetian merchant Giacomo Vitturi. Machiavelli vividly remembered his first meeting with the man. Hamzah had handled the puppy with care, for Giacomo was a very dear friend. Machiavelli felt very comfortable during the journey and had only known kind hands. Giacomo had a lightweight frame and his hands were those of an artisan's. "When I said 'dog', I was thinking of those small greyhounds they have down in Naples!" Giacomo had exclaimed with a loud laugh as he placed his hands on either side of the Anatolian's large face and lifted his head to study his ears and nose. "But you've brought me a real military advisor, a Machiavelli. Machiavelli hm? Look at him, he looks like a Florentine to you, doesn't he?" Giacomo continued good-heartedly, tapping Machiavelli on the nose and causing him to go cross-eyed. Out of all the humans he had watched, Giacomo Vitturi was his favorite. Machiavelli would frequently accompany him on journeys and faithfully guarded his home from burglars and thieves. 13 years later, Machiavelli died of a seizure and woke up to discover that he was no ordinary dog, but a mythical creature cursed with reincarnation and a strong fascination for historical relics and events. Alce had managed to harnass that energy into something good. Machiavelli was now devoted to the cause of defending the natural order of things.
He thought about the times he had walked alongside the soldiers in the Great War, acting as their unofficial mascot and unbeknownst to them, their protector against the evil spirits. But he could not quite find any comfort in them as he had with Giacomo Vitturi. "From another world. I was betrayed by other members of my species and sent here, I suppose, as punishment for the false accusation they laid against me. I know humans because I am a tutelary spirit of Italian history and I have walked beside them for a long time." He did not seem to mind if the android would not understand his own mission and history, but when he thinks of a robot, the feeling of betrayal wasn't something he'd attribute to it. But perhaps RK515 would know something about law and justice -- the K9 vest he wore was a hopeful sign.
He was interrupted from his thoughts by a low rumbling in his stomach. He had forgotten his hunger. "I don't suppose you know where any food is, do you?"
Machiavelli would not let himself be owned by anyone. He was bound by loyalties of community.
Then, he had to realize he was not in his world and RK515 would not be familiar with his kind. It would be difficult to explain. Perhaps he could just go off the notion that he was an ordinary mortal dog. Was the android capable of detecting lies? The Anatolian Shepherd had taken note that the wolf's robotic eye had changed colors again. He weighed his options carefully, turning it over in his mind. If he did lie, what story should he use?
His first "owner" had been the Venetian merchant Giacomo Vitturi. Machiavelli vividly remembered his first meeting with the man. Hamzah had handled the puppy with care, for Giacomo was a very dear friend. Machiavelli felt very comfortable during the journey and had only known kind hands. Giacomo had a lightweight frame and his hands were those of an artisan's. "When I said 'dog', I was thinking of those small greyhounds they have down in Naples!" Giacomo had exclaimed with a loud laugh as he placed his hands on either side of the Anatolian's large face and lifted his head to study his ears and nose. "But you've brought me a real military advisor, a Machiavelli. Machiavelli hm? Look at him, he looks like a Florentine to you, doesn't he?" Giacomo continued good-heartedly, tapping Machiavelli on the nose and causing him to go cross-eyed. Out of all the humans he had watched, Giacomo Vitturi was his favorite. Machiavelli would frequently accompany him on journeys and faithfully guarded his home from burglars and thieves. 13 years later, Machiavelli died of a seizure and woke up to discover that he was no ordinary dog, but a mythical creature cursed with reincarnation and a strong fascination for historical relics and events. Alce had managed to harnass that energy into something good. Machiavelli was now devoted to the cause of defending the natural order of things.
He thought about the times he had walked alongside the soldiers in the Great War, acting as their unofficial mascot and unbeknownst to them, their protector against the evil spirits. But he could not quite find any comfort in them as he had with Giacomo Vitturi. "From another world. I was betrayed by other members of my species and sent here, I suppose, as punishment for the false accusation they laid against me. I know humans because I am a tutelary spirit of Italian history and I have walked beside them for a long time." He did not seem to mind if the android would not understand his own mission and history, but when he thinks of a robot, the feeling of betrayal wasn't something he'd attribute to it. But perhaps RK515 would know something about law and justice -- the K9 vest he wore was a hopeful sign.
He was interrupted from his thoughts by a low rumbling in his stomach. He had forgotten his hunger. "I don't suppose you know where any food is, do you?"