[ America nods along, not happy with it, but. Sometimes he puts thing in perspective. He's fallen in love with outlaws, run with crooks, bombed and shot and slaughtered. It's a rationalization for himself, mostly- why he isn't reacting with revulsion. ]

I kinda figured that. I mean, I didn't want to figure that you've killed people, but I'm not all that surprised. And for some reason I get it. Kinda. Maybe.

[ He shrugs again, surprisingly relaxed as he explains. ]

Denmark was a viking. I was around when France was cutting off his own peoples' heads. Japan has a habit of ritualistic suicide. War's expected. Killing isn't exactly new to any of us.

[ Pause. He brings his knee up, rolls up the leg. An ugly scar traces across the knee. It looks a little like a ravine that had been split open. ]

And sometimes we kill without justification. We think it's right at the time, then years go by, or even minutes, and we realize how wrong we were. Killing just seems to be a fact of life for us. At least you were feeding and trying to survive. I was just land-hungry.

[ He doesn't mention his serial killers. That would be a little bit of an over-kill.

...BADUM-TSSH. ]