Hazel orbs shot daggers at the savior before him gritting his teeth pass the pain voice shaking a bit Roman lips curled into a twisted smile "I’m not going to break that easy."
Ozpin gave a tired, weary sigh, “Maybe not… but you will, eventually. Everyone does.”
Shedding his jacket, he draped it across the back of the chair that had been shoved unceremoniously into the corner of the room along with the accompanying interrogation table. Across said table were various instruments and nasty looking tools, some already showing signs of use and many of which were no longer legal in Vale. Granted, Ozpin wasn’t technically in Vale at the moment, no, he was aboard the General’s ship. This was Atlesian territory and therefore followed Atlesian rules. The Atlesians were much more… willing when it came to certain things. However, he would not require use of any of them.
He pushed the sleeves of his sweater up past his elbows and left his cane leaning discarded against the same chair as his jacket. Neither of them would be much use now, as he was probably stuck in the room with the ginger haired criminal until he spilled something useful.
“You must be very used to pain, which is not terribly surprising. I’ve been informed of the rather… severe methods they’ve already tried to get you to talk and the unsuccessful results. But let me assure you, what I can do is much worse than anything they’ve already tried and it won’t require the use of any of that,” he gestured to the table. “In fact, I once swore that I would never do this again, but I’ve been asked to make an exception.”
He paced toward the man currently tied roughly to the chair mounted in the middle of the room. Gone were his normal trappings and he sat there simply in his under shirt and trousers. Ozpin gave him a hard look, but the weariness of his voice was echoed in his amber eyes.
“Though, I suppose I will ask, before we begin, is there anything you’d like to say?”
