Torture is something he would never have wanted to be responsible for but being in this world had changed him. Perhaps he can say, with much reluctance and difficulty, that it hardened him. He has always lived within a strange grey area. A boy with immoral morals. And yet, despite all he had lived for, he looks coldly towards the prisoner who was shaking in fear, enveloped by the moment and fate bestowed upon her. Bakugou grimaces at Goldenluxury, assuming the Dealer would never understand with her current state. He just wanted her to regain her memories. It's frustrating to watch her like this. "Don't know anythin'," he echoes the Pittian Seeker in annoyance, rolling his sanguine eyes. Her mistake was being part of The Pitt to begin with. He wan't buying the girl's statement of not knowing anything either. People said all kinds of shit just to get themselves out of trouble and Bakugou found his patience always wore thin when it came to the ones he considered his friends, his good comrades. That Pittian captive had been part of the reason why such a terrible fate had befallen Goldenluxury. It was her fault, her fault this had happened. She shouldn't have been a part of The Pitt to begin with.

He stares at the bengal Dealer with daggers, embittered by her remark. She wasn't one to talk. Goldie doesn't understand the feelings The Typhoon had been put through because of these - his gaze narrows at Cosette's form - lowlifes. "You're in no position to beg," the Reaver says to the prisoner, doing his best to tune Goldenluxury out. He doesn't want to here her ask for the Captain to let the Seeker go. Cosette doesn't deserve special treatment. "You're supposed to be answerin' our questions and that's what you'll do." The ragdoll lets off a smokey huff before sitting down, neatly curling his fire-tail behind him.

The ocelot cautiously walked over, her forked tail lashing behind her -- she heard of their recent problems with the Pitt, knew they captured one of them in the raid. But, as she came closer, she anticipated a more grisly captive. Someone with horns and severe injuries, not a terrified girl. She eyed Pincher's knives and the captive, her tongue dragging over the edges of her teeth in thought. Rosemary never liked seeing women suffer; she stepped in when Caesar tortured a hapless kid from the Ascendants, though now seemed a different matter when the Pittian was an adult. The captive willingly joined a group that practiced slavery and more grotesque tortures than the Typhoon ever did.

"I can poke around inside her mind, instead," Rosemary offered, her voice flat and emotionless, per usual. Her ears flicked as she added, "Torturing people isn't a reliable way to extract information -- they'll just lie and lie to stop the pain. But it's harder to lie to a telepath." The witch nearly bit her tongue to keep herself from saying that; she never liked mentioning that she could manipulate people's minds. She could count the number of people that knew for certain how adept she cut into minds -- her coven, Coldblue, and Solveig. Her ears flicked, eyes locking onto Pincher and the captive as she waited for her brother's decision.

© MADI