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Human, of course. When sufficient time expired, the godlike figure looked up with eyes brimming over in inspirational excess. "You know that Mercury is a godlike figure?"
"Certainly. Well, let me re-phrase. We know that Mercury is Messsenger of the Gods, a god himself, and therefore a godlike figure but, seriously, have you seen his legs? If we'd invented matchsticks, I'd say his legs were thinner."
"Never mind his legs. You do know that I am a godlike figure?"
"The thought had occurred to me, yes."
"Have you given a thought to which godlike figure I am?"
"Well, I got as far as concluding you are not Venus. Now, if I am wrong in this and you are actually Venus, I am going to have to convert to some other religion."
Storm clouds appeared on the godlike figure's brow, storm clouds replete with thunder and lightning, not a good sign at all, the senator was certain. From deep down the throat of the godlike figure came the basso profundo pronouncement: "I am Mars."
The senator accepted this news, then asked for a clarification: "The bar or the planet?" This request again brought the godlike figure short. "There's a bar named after me?"
"There's a tavern named The Mars Bar and Grill that is reputed to serve some killer grilled ribs but I had no idea it was named after you." Seeing the storm-on-the-brow's increasing intensity, the senator hastily added: "Oh, I see; it wasn't. Fine. Sorry. You must be the godlike figure the Romans adopted as their god of war."
Basso profundo: "The same."
"And that explains your interest in this little brouhaha we've been contemplating over on this side of Italy."
Basso profundo: "Precisely."
The senator turned away from the godlike figure, walked a few steps in contemplation, then turned about and said: "You see, that's the source of our senatorial debate."
"What is?"
"Well, if we fight this war of yours that sort of gives you some kind of proprietary rights on our future conflicts, doesn't it?"
"Of course, it does. I become your god of war just like I am for the Romans."
"And if we don't want a god of war?"
The godlike figure laughed a godlike laugh. "Who would not want a god of war? Preposterous."
"Still. Humor us. What if we don't want a god of war?"
"Why, then the Romans will attack you."
"At your direction?"
"Of course."
"Well, that clarifies that." The senator bustled off into his house.
"Wait a minute," the godlike figure called after him. "What have you decided?"
"Oh, well, that was easy. Once the options were fairly put on the table as you just did, the options narrowed quickly and awesomely into a single possible course of action."
Basso profundo: "And?"
A bleak smile accompanied the senator's response; "It's Mars or bust."