(he a beefy man lmao- i said a mix between Doomslayer, Master Chief and Martins Licis- and all of those men are massive-)
Knight ignores Derik pretty effectively, but considering the type of pushups he was doing - no arms - it wasn't that difficult a task.
After a solid 250 of those he moves on to pushups using only his arms, basically suspending his entire body in the air as he cranks pushup after pushup out. It was probably more than a little surreal, and maybe a bit eye-opening to Derik that at any given gtime, if Knight wished it, he could legit crack the man like a glowstick.
Derik watches, completely in shock. “Well then- I’d say if you were such a jackass you’d be a pretty good guy- makin’ me have some gay panic-“ He laughs.
(im half tempted to Chuck Norris this and say he can do pushups without arms or legs but we're going only one arm now instead lol-)
Knight grunts. "I'm not particularly a jackass. I'm just not coded for emotion. Combat and physical strength are what I was made for and emotions, according to my makers, would get in the way. And I agree with them."
After 250 arms-only pushups, he goes to one armed no leg pushups, starting with his left arm.
(XD)
Derik keeps watching him. “Hm…so…what if someone were to…I don’t know…put code for emotions into you?”
"Impossible. Once something like me is fully cultured and conditioned, further conditioning becomes impossible except for by the original 'parents,' meaning the only ones who would be able to program me with human empathy and love are the same people who would never dream of doing something like that. And as I said, I agree with their decision to not give me human emotion. I make more logical choices and have no second thoughts about them and I can always execute whatever plan I come up with when I'm on a solo op." Knight says gruffly, hop-switching on the down of the 125th pushup on his left arm to do the rest of the 125 on his right.
Derik hums, “I see…” He thinks for a moment, “Have you ever been taught anything?”
"That depends on what you mean by 'taught anything.'" Knight grunts. He finishes his pushup routine and rolls onto his back.
“Like…taught math or reading…or taught how to walk or speak properly…”
Knight contemplates his life choices for a split second before taking a deep breath.
"I can do math, I can read, I obviously know how to walk, and I can speak. It wasn't a matter of teaching, I was just cultured with all of that knowledge already inside me. Did someone have to teach you to breathe, or to blink? I don't think so."
Derik rolls his eyes, “Augh you take things too literally- you remind me of this one boy I take care of.”
"No, I'm answering the exact question you posed to me. If you're wondering if I have parents, you should ask that instead." Knight says simply.
Derik grumbles, “No I’m wondering if you can be taught anything that you don’t know already.”
"And I already said that I can't be." Knight sighs.
Knight grunts. "For you. Not for me."
Derik leans back, shrugging. “Anyways. Since you woke me up…I wanna hear more about you. I’m bored and need entertainment.”
"You know everything there is to know, unless you want to know my ID number and exactly how many people I've killed." Knight replies.
Derik huffs, “You’re boring. Just tell me about yourself.”
Knight sits up and looks Derik in the eyes.
"I mean it. There's nothing to know about me."
Derik raises an eyebrow. “No memory of your ‘parents’? No stories you have about your job or life?”
"I don't have 'parents.' All I have are scientists and doctors. And you know what my job and life are like. I'm military equipment. My purpose is war. If you still want a story, I can give you one, but it will not be on me if you can't sleep tonight." Knight snorts.
Derik chuckles, “Hey, you’re the one who woke me up from a good dream. And you also kidnapped me.” He tosses a light piece of metal at Knight playfully. “You owe me. And yes I know you brought food and bedding but still.” He grins.
Knight sighs, the metal bouncing off of his still bare chest.
"You asked for it." he says, standing up.
"Afghanistan, 3 years ago. I was on a solo op to capture a POI and extract information. There were three side objectives that consisted of his wife, his eldest son and a close family friend, each involved with a brewing plot to bomb the White House and Pentagon. I found the first target quickly, and extracted information from him before executing him as a national terrorist, with a 50 AE round to the skull. His wife was hiding out in a bunker guarded by a few men. Needless to say, their deaths were painful and fast. I extracted her information and executed her as well. The eldest son also happened to be there, and he gave me the information pretty willingly after he lost a finger or two. Him I had to keep alive for ransom. The last target had nothing of value, so I executed him on sight." he says. His voice was remorseless and. . . slightly bright, as though he somehow enjoyed the recollection of this bloody event.
"There's your story." he states.
Derik listens, silent for the longest time. He then spoke, “Hm…so…you really are trained to enjoy this…” He mutters.
"I suppose I am. Is that a bad thing, though? If you're good at something, why shouldn't you take a little pride and joy in it?" Knight asks as a sort of counter.
Derik nods, “True…but still…” he mumbles. “Question…”
Knight sighs. "You've asked a lot already. . . but shoot away, bud."
Derik hums, “Do you have a concept of emotion? Like other people’s emotions. And would you be able to have morals?”
"I know they exist. They just don't exactly matter. And no, I would not be able to have morals, not without reconditioning who I am." Knight huffs.
Derik nods thoughtfully. “Hm…” he looked lost in thought, then yawns. “Welp…I’m figurin’ you out aren’t I?”
