darker_london | After the attack (Peter, Razvan, open to fighters but can stand alone) (Reply)

The rescue mission to save those Dead Meat prisoners from the clutches of the Templar hadn't exactly gone as planned. Not only had they been too late to save six of the seventeen prisoners, but the Glasgow Templar stronghold had turned out to be better guarded than they had anticipated. And even though Gavin had given them a correct layout of the building, the rescue operation still hadn't been easy or without sacrifice.

Peter was sitting on a chair in the Dead Meat safehouse in Edinburgh, glad the room he was in was basically empty. His hands had been treated for burns he had received by trying in vain to pull someone off the pyre he had been tied to. They were both wrapped in bandages and every time they moved it caused him excruciating pain. Saul had been shot in the arm, and Razvan had taken a bullet to the head, though being a demon he had been able to shake that one off.

Razvan moved to Peter's side, looking gloomy. "Hey, Chief. They made soup in the next room. You hungry?"

Peter shook his head, heaving a sigh as he sank down in the chair. "How's your head?"

"Can't complain," Razvan admitted. "Just glad I didn't wear my hat today. You should eat something, you know."

"Funny, it almost sounds like you care," Peter said wryly.

"Just don't let it get around. If you fink on me, I'll tell them it was just the bullet to the noggin speaking. I'll get you some soup."

"Fine," Peter accepted. He felt anything but hungry. He had watched people die in front of him today. It never got easier.

"You know, there are some people talking about maybe switching sides. Seems they think this is a sign that the proactive approach is better."

"Which is exactly what Jerome hoped to achieve by selling out his own people," Peter grumbled. "Not that I blame anyone for feeling that way." It was hard not to want to exact vengeance when you had watched your own people die in horrible ways. "But to do it makes us no better than them."

Razvan gave Peter an appraising look. "Some of us never claimed to be, Chief," and he left Peter to ponder that while he fetched some soup.