[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-family:verdana;"]This was Jervis, then. All two feet of him. Red wants to laugh, because really? but then there’s more of them crowding in, like it’s the damn gladiator games and somebody’s handing out popcorn, and he promptly swallows any quip he was about to offer. His knife dangles uselessly from the sheath at his hip, crusted over with blood; if he could just reach it, he could wipe that smirk off Jervis’s face and get out of here. But he can’t, he can barely move to begin with, and someone took the pleasure of crushing his tail with a particularly heavy stone while he was blacked out. He reasons that this isn’t the first time he’s gotten a beating, and the kinds of beasts he took those beatings from could pull the Pitt’s leader apart like a midday snack. Whatever they had in store for him wouldn’t hold a candle to what Beck and Sam went through, anyway - he could take it, for them. His expression falls in the general direction of stoic, save for the occasional twitch at his temples as he works his jaw.
The words eventually drag themselves out of his throat as a growl. He wasn't keen on talking until Bai Shi spoiled the game. “Didn’t get enough out of Beck and Sam, huh?” He isn’t here to take questions. He’s here because he made a mistake, because they wanted to make an example of him, something along those lines - he has no answers to give. But before he can make another snippy remark there’s an interruption. Some kind of kid, an innocent at best, asking if they could patch him up and send him on his way. He barks out a harsh laugh, angry enough without the knowledge that they were hiding their war crimes from the more innocent of the group - if such even existed. He already figured out that Aine was some kind of child soldier during the battle, and now this? “Screw you,” Red hisses through his teeth, to Musicbox, to Bai Shi, whoever would humor him. “Don’t bother dragging this out. I’m already bored.”
That's what they all said.
The words eventually drag themselves out of his throat as a growl. He wasn't keen on talking until Bai Shi spoiled the game. “Didn’t get enough out of Beck and Sam, huh?” He isn’t here to take questions. He’s here because he made a mistake, because they wanted to make an example of him, something along those lines - he has no answers to give. But before he can make another snippy remark there’s an interruption. Some kind of kid, an innocent at best, asking if they could patch him up and send him on his way. He barks out a harsh laugh, angry enough without the knowledge that they were hiding their war crimes from the more innocent of the group - if such even existed. He already figured out that Aine was some kind of child soldier during the battle, and now this? “Screw you,” Red hisses through his teeth, to Musicbox, to Bai Shi, whoever would humor him. “Don’t bother dragging this out. I’m already bored.”
That's what they all said.
[div style="text-align:center;font-size:10pt;line-height:9pt;color:black;font-weight:bold;font-family:verdana;"]IF YOUR FORTRESS IS UNDER SIEGE,
YOU CAN ALWAYS RUN TO ME
YOU CAN ALWAYS RUN TO ME