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Wraith looked up, his head barely moving, as Asmadai made his presence known. "Good afternoon."

He didn't know how this test was going to go. Aside from Shee's frivolity, he hadn't, before Asmadai, dealt with the religious since his childhood. He remembered esoteric Hindu priests chanting and mumbling; vaguely, he recalled he'd made an effort to distance himself from that as soon as he'd been able. No matter his feelings on the subject, he just didn't know anything useful about religion or those who immersed themselves in it. They'd likely have to skip the physical portion of the test, as Asmadai seemed rather averse to violence from Wraith's point of view, and this couldn't make him any good at fighting. Wraith had immense self-control and thought he could likely prevent any injury to the priest by holding back, but even he had to admit there was no proper way of testing fighting ability without actually fighting.

"Before we begin... I'm sure you've noticed by now that there are a certain range of skills needed for one who wants to advance in LOTUS. People try to kill us regularly, and it is helpful to be able to defend yourself." Wraith wondered if what he was going to say next was tactful enough. "Being a priest, and pardon my ignorance in such matters, I would think you would not be very good at that. How would you describe your physical, combat or defensive skills?"

Wraith smirked wryly as Asmadai pulled at his collar. "Yes, that won't be enough. I'm glad to hear," Wraith paused; he was rather surprised to hear it too, truthfully, "that you have developed those skills."

He waved away Asmadai's pardon impatiently with one hand; Wraith could not make himself care about Gods and the like save for Janus. He was actually important.

"I myself don't care for handguns." Wraith did not like the way they felt or the way they worked or the way they smelled. He didn't like they way he couldn't feel what he was doing, the way he didn't feel completely in control with a gun the way he felt with daggers or katars or bare-handed. He vastly preferred his blades; although he knew to some they seemed outdated, Wraith knew that he was better with nothing more than a small dagger than most were with the newest technology. Most did not know how to fight, or what fighting really was. They stood there, hopeful and proud with their modern guns, not knowing what to do other than stand and shoot, not understanding the underlying mechanics of the fight.

And that was where they went wrong.

But guns were not all bad. He knew of at least one person who knew exactly how to wield a gun properly. He hoped Asmadai would soon make two. "It is not difficult if you know where to look." He turned his attention away from Asmadai momentarily while he spoke into a small device in his palm. "Midori, you're needed at the training facility. Bring some guns; the priest needs one too." Wraith turned back to Asmadai.

"While we wait."

Diplomatic Case Study - Burma

It has been noted that some Burmese monks once turned violent in response to a historically brutal government regime. The issue here is whether a monk should stay passive, as is dictated by Buddhist law, or retaliate when faced with brutality, such as the killing of the fellow monk, or possibly even self-defense. Things to keep in mind include the culture surrounding Buddhist monks, who are expected, as per the words of the Buddha, to withdraw and not concern themselves with worldly affairs, as well as the aims of the government in question: what does the government hope to gain through oppression, especially of monks? This is a question of power, where spiritual guidance can as strongly influence a population as sheer political power can.

"Let's say that you're a much higher ranking member of LOTUS than you are now. Let's also say that you, also being a man of religion, have the ear of the Buddhist monks, who see in you a sort of kindred spirit. At the same time, they are wary of you due to the marked differences between their religious ideals and yours. Janus does not want spiritual opposition and is assisting the Burmese government in the systematic oppression of both the Burmese populace and the monks and hopes to convince the Burmese people that he is the god they should be looking to. As a high ranking member, you have considerable political influence, as well as the full support of LOTUS behind you. How would you prevent Janus from creating significant gains in the situation, and how would you advise the monks?"

It was an interesting response. Wraith had not pulled out this particular case for Asmadai purposely; it had just happened that the one with a religious bent had been drawn for the priest. Thinking, Wraith realized he hadn't expected anything radically different. The man had answered in a way concordant with his beliefs and with the way of religion. But what Wraith was impressed by was that Asmadai had also looked, shrewdly, at religion as a tool. Wraith was almost sure it was not completely a conscious decision, but the fact that the decision had been made was heartening. And guns! Where had he come up with that?

He nodded, sitting silently, at Asmadai. "Good." He made a few notes on a sheet of paper in front of him for future use, and looked up.

"Asmadai." He knew others called the man father, but he'd be damned if he did. "Why did you join LOTUS? What do you hope to achieve here?"

Wraith smiled slightly at the man's sudden outburst. Answers... he had gone through these motions before; the imaginary reel played mechanically in Wraith's mind. He wanted to tell the other man, forcefully, that it was a dead end. For there were no answers, and when there was, they were ones you were better off not knowing anyways. He'd told her that so many times before and each time she'd foolishly laugh and carry on, determined as ever to find her answers. But he knew what they were; knew what they would do to her, and he didn't want her to find her answers and neither did he want to find his.

But then Asmadai said something so odd that Wraith forgot all about everything else. "You," He started tentatively, "you see your dead sister? In Rome and... and here? At LOTUS?" Wraith could not hide the astonishment on his face. He had not pegged the priest as a crazy man. With the current state of the world, even with Wraith's utter distaste for religion and the mystical, he knew (from personal experience) that things like this were more than possible. They were likely.

Wraith leaned in, eyes burning with intensity and focused on the priest. A million thoughts flew through his head and most were soundly rejected as implausible. Asmadai likely did not know what the significance of this was. It went far beyond him.

"Closer to the forum..." That meant, in all likelihood, closer to Janus. Closer to the God of Time. That did not need explanation. However... he could also see her here? This was something Wraith did not understand. Why? None of them were gods, and Wraith almost laughed at the foolishness of the thought. But what did Janus and LOTUS have in common? What could be triggering these flashes of past remnants? He was certain that what Asmadai was seeing was not a ghost. He did not quite know what else to call it, but he thought maybe the priest's sister was more... a flash of physical memory.

The question remained. What was the same in Rome and at LOTUS that was related to memory? He tore a fresh sheet of paper from Asmadai's file and frenetically wrote those three key words on it; Rome, LOTUS, memory.

"Do you see her in specific places here at LOTUS?"

Wraith supposed that explained the phenomenon to some extent; at least it did on another level. Asmadai saw his sister, that was unusual, as she was dead. But it was also unusual that other people with dead sisters-- Wraith felt uncomfortable all of a sudden-- did not see them. It seemed to Wraith that Asmadai dwelt on the death-- it must have been a hard one, he thought.

But of course, there was more to it. And Wraith was frustrated with Asmadai's lack of an answer. He let his frustration show as he restlessly ran his hands through his hair.

"What do we have in common with Rome?" The words were barely a mutter, not meant for Asmadai to hear, but Wraith was so caught up in the question he hadn't noticed he'd said it aloud.

Wraith knew this was important, and the importance of it felt just beyond his grasp. Wraith shook his head at Asmadai's remark. "No... it has to be something that's present here, and although we are both looking for the crystals, they are--"

He was struck with an idea.

Wraith did not care for mysticism, and that carried over to that branch of philosophy he had always found utterly useless- metaphysics. But he was forced to admit that even a slight, previous foray into the subject would have been helpful. He returned his attentions to his sheet of paper, and also wrote down Shee and Wraith. He looked up at Asmadai with apprehension, and he put the pen down. It looked as though he had been about to write something else.

He had always wondered why the loss of memories more or less was staunched when recruits came to LOTUS. It was the same in Rome; or so Janus professed it to be. It was like there was almost a replacement-- crude and paling in comparison to the original, of course-- for the time crystals present, resulting in this phenomenon.

It all made brilliant, horrific sense. It was at once a crushing blow and a glimmer of a future. Wraith sighed heavily and tore the paper into small pieces, depositing them into a trash can that sat beside his desk.

It was then that he heard a knock and looked up, seeing that familiar blue-green hair standing in the doorway. He'd almost forgotten that he'd called Midori. She grinned impishly and held up two small, modern handguns. "Didn't know how good he was, so I brought something easy." Her eyes lingered on Asmadai and she threw him one of guns.