Originally posted by Tzeentch._
Aura looks exactly like how I pictured him in my mind's eye.Also Neph your example sucks. Lying to the parents is way more humane than telling them that their child has become a serial killer who lolSlaughters innocents for the lulz. Peace of mind > the Truth on the traditional moral scale.
He's played too much Persona 4.
The truth is now too ingrained and beaten into his brain as the most essential thing that has ever existed ever.
Ever.
Originally posted by Tzeentch._
Aura looks exactly like how I pictured him in my mind's eye.Also Neph your example sucks. Lying to the parents is way more humane than telling them that their child has become a serial killer who lolSlaughters innocents for the lulz. Peace of mind > the Truth on the traditional moral scale.
Nope. He isn't a serial killer at all. He was kidnapped and given mind-altering drugs to make him ultra violent. After you find him he goes back to normal and runs away because apparently he agrees that being brain-washed into doing something against your will totally makes you culpable for what you did during that time. Plus screw their peace of mind. They've been searching for him for most of his life. He's their ****ing son. They should know that he's alive.
The whole situation is backwards. The quest heavily implies that looking for him for all these years was very unhealthy, and if you tell them he's alive they oh so subtley tell you that they would have preferred you to lie. If you do lie they're goddamn relieved that they don't have to look anymore. WTF, he's their SON! If they hadn't of searched for him they would have been awful, soulless people. Which they are anyway if they'd prefer him to be dead than alive. How is it so ****ing terrible that he killed people while FORCIBLY DOPED UP TO THE EYEBALLS?!
Whoever wrote that quest needs to seriously reevaluate their morality, because its ****in' broke.
…there is an idea of a Patrick Bateman, some kind of abstraction,
but there is no real me, only an entity, something illusory, and
though I can hide my cold gaze and you can shake my hand and feel
flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are
probably comparable: I simply am not there. It is hard for me to
make sense on any given level. Myself is fabricated, an aberration. I
am a noncontingent human being. My personality is sketchy and
unformed, my heartlessness goes deep and is persistent. My
conscience, my pity, my hopes disappeared a long time ago
(probably at Harvard) if they ever did exist. There are no more
barriers to cross. All I have in common with the uncontrollable and
the insane, the vicious and the evil, all the mayhem I have caused
and my utter indifference toward it, I have now surpassed. I still,
though, hold on to one single bleak truth: no one is safe, nothing is
redeemed. Yet I am blameless. Each model of human behavior must
be assumed to have some validity. Is evil something you are? Or is it
something you do? My pain is constant and sharp and I do not hope
for a better world for anyone. In fact I want my pain to be inflicted
on others. I want no one to escape. But even after admitting this -
and I have, countless times, in just about every act I've committed -
and coming face-to-face with these truths, there is no catharsis. I
gain no deeper knowledge about myself, no new understanding can
be extracted from my telling. There has been no reason for me to tell
you any of this. This confession has meant nothing ….