Eugen crossed his arms, watching Gorodetsky leave behind his goons.
"So, I'll assume that lot hides in the closet with you then... Sir." As the Commissar turned, face full of rage, Weise kicked the door closed in his face, returned to his desk, and brought out a bottle of tequila. Pouring drinks for himself and the ex-recruits littering the floor, he stood, and offered a toast.
"To the Revolution Comrades! Now, since you're not feeling so well, I'll just take care of these for you, as you're rather indisposed at the moment..."
Slamming back the shots, he glanced at the glove covering his left hand. Pulling it off, and dimming the lights, he let the purple glow bathe the room, and watched the swirling patterns dance on skin that was no longer his.
Jack Handey Wrote:I can picture in my mind a world without war, a world without hate. And I can picture us attacking that world, because they'd never expect it.
