Kortrijk, Vlaanderen, post Sharpe's return from the bar with DJ

[mm_chanter]

the lights in the farmhouse are at a relative low; less than friendly eyes may still be on the place from the outside and besides, night's coming on. the main room - it might've been a proper living room at some point, but it's full of mismatched chairs, at least one table, a battered radio and its share of spare assorted equipment now - is far from empty of people. Some cluster together in threes and fours, some sit alone, quite a few are in and out as errands demand. Conversations are as low as the lighting, but just as present.

"{day wasn't a total loss,}" one man says from his position in a chair backed against a wall - it's the taller, heavier one who'd taken it upon himself to search Sharpe for weapons. The square-jawed woman turns away from a paper-scattered length of tabletop long enough to roll her eyes at him in what looks like exasperation rather than disagreement, but doesn't comment in words.

"{Room wherever,}" says the medic's younger brother, gesturing with one arm at the haphazard seating. "{for now. Anybody tries to get a debrief together and it's off, though. Not sure how much sense that makes, but that's how it tends to go.}"

Seba doesn't know Sharpe's history, after all. that's a fair assumption not to make.

Comments

[and_far_away]

He gives the two of them a curious once-over.

"{Just happened to be in the area when all this started getting bad?}"

[mm_chanter]

"{Brama did,}" Seba answers. "{Lore's Flemish for life, and she'll tell you as much. If you can believe a businessman and someone's best office staffer could end up doing what we do--well. No worse than a bunch of students doing it. Or a farmer.}" He cuts a not unfriendly look at Sharpe. "{Like I said before. Curse that pesky conscience.}"

[and_far_away]

"{Does make life difficult, having one}", he agrees wryly. "{And I knew a teacher, once, turned one of the best soldiers I ever served with.}"

[mm_chanter]

"{I can believe it,}" Seba says, while Sylvain nods a bit thoughtfully. "{Sergeant type, I'm gonna guess?}"

"{Uh-oh,}" Sylvain breaks in, eyes on the grey-haired man who'd been talking with Lore. He's now on his feet and angling their way. Seba spots what his brother's looking at and winces. "{Ooh, here comes Brama, speaking of. He'll give you the fourth degree, forget the third. Want me to go and head him off?}"

He's halfway out of his chair as he speaks. The medic isn't.

[and_far_away]

"Rifleman. I made him a sergeant in the end, though", Sharpe tells them, heedless of what that gives away, then straightens in his chair as Brama approaches. "Got to face it sooner or later."

[mm_chanter]

"{Too late, back in a minute, Brama! Just a second.}" Seba's out of his chair already and talking over his shoulder as he goes. The last few words are to the grey-haired Italian, not his brother and Sharpe.

Sylvain breathes out on a near-silent chuckle. "{He's doing you a favor, mostly,}" he says. Beat. "{*You* made him a sergeant?}" He doesn't press the point other than to add, "{Don't tell An-Sophie that.}"

Given what these two have talked about already--well. Could that be a reference to past betrayals, or just some sound advice given An-Sophie's skill with that pistol of hers? Heck, maybe it's both.

[and_far_away]

"{Not a fan of officers?}" he says wryly. "{Neither was I, most of them. I was raised from the ranks, and they didn't like me much either.}"

[mm_chanter]

"{Not a fan of... well.}" Sylvain looks as though he's choosing his words carefully. "{You're not the first veteran we've known, is what it is.}"

Okay, so that is probably a reference to something said before. "{I suspect a different nation's service, though.}"

[and_far_away]

"{You said something about that earlier}", he remembers. "{About why An-Sophie doesn't trust me. Someone infiltrated you?}"

[mm_chanter]

Sylvain turns to look Sharpe full in the face at that, though he's not seated entirely sideways on his chair as yet. "{You get to the point,}" he says, and if there's a little surprise there, the fact that he's a touch approving is also going to show.

"{Not infiltrated, exactly,}" he clarifies soberly. "{Betrayed. We had another American with us once, besides Makosa. We *thought* he was okay. Not so much, though.}"

A hard-edged frown like that doesn't suit this man's face at all.

[and_far_away]

"{Never been one for needless words}", he says with a shrug and a crooked smile, though that quickly vanishes. "{What did he do?}"

[mm_chanter]

That gets a brief but honest smile out of Sylvain, too. His vanishes just as quickly as Sharpe's did, but it was there for a second or so.

"{Quite a few things. He gave enough of our information away to be going on with, for one. Tried his hand at sabotage, once. Of us.}" Again, such a dark expression really doesn't suit this man's face. "{Lied like a rug, on top of it all and would you believe he had most of us convinced he was on our side at one point? Good thing he was a rubbish saboteur.}" The medic leans back in his chair, looking disgusted.

((OOC: Say sorry. My muse cut out on me a bit there.))

[and_far_away]

"And not very good at covering his tracks either, by the sound of it. What became of him when you found out?"

There'll be no judgment from him, whatever the answer is.

[mm_chanter]

"{Not really,}" Sylvain agrees grimly. "{Fortunately for us, I suppose. And his--}" the medic grimaces again, "{--friends got hold of him before we could do anything much about him. That was plenty lucky for him, I can tell you, though I don't imagine the Germans were all that thrilled with him either for getting himself found out. Hot water either way.}"

There's no real satisfaction in either his voice or his expression, and that tells a story of its own, though it's more about Sylvain's character than the betrayer they're discussing.

[and_far_away]

Sharpe nods, sympathetic to the other man's feelings on the matter. "{Hope for his sake they still had some use for him, then.}"

[mm_chanter]

"{Possibly bad news for us if they have, but...}" A beat, and then Sylvain nods silent agreement.

"{Now you see why An-Sophie reacted the way she did. Some of the others might do the same, fair warning.}" Not that Sharpe necessarily needs it, but better to say it than not and have someone get unexpectedly hostile later.

[and_far_away]

"{Appreciate it}", he says with a nod. "{If I know what's behind it, I can take it until they come around. However long it takes.}"

[mm_chanter]

Sylvain looks sideways at Sharpe at that, and his gaze is approving again. "{Now you sound like Dries,}" he says, "{or Makosa. You sure you weren't a--}" His mouth closes. then, "{Uh-oh. Speaking of...}" For what it's worth, Sylvain looks a little amused for a second on top of his warning.

It's not Brama angling their way at speed. It's the black-haired woman who'd been acting as secondary medic earlier, Lore.

[and_far_away]

"{When I was a soldier}", he says quickly before Lore reaches them, "{I learned how to work with soldiers. I can do diplomacy if I have to.}"

[mm_chanter]

"{It shows,}" Sylvain says plainly, and yes, that's quiet approval again. It doesn't look as though he was likely to say anything else, but if he was, Lore gets there before it can happen.

"{Debrief's in the works, Sylvain,}" she says without preamble. "{Ten minutes. Fifteen at the most, or Brama's likely to start getting impatient on us, and you *know* how fun that is.}" The medic grimaces understanding; apparently being one of the leader-types of a maquis doesn't mean all your quirks get an immediate pass. A beat, and then Lore goes briskly on. "{Introduce me, while we've got the chance?}"

Her gaze is on Sharpe. It's assessing, but frank as well. She's not smiling, but neither is she actively frowning. "{Anyone who can dodge An-Sophie and Iljo in one go needs an introduction.}"

That last doesn't sound as though it's arguable.

[and_far_away]

"{Richard Sharpe}", he tells her. "{Apple farmer, but I've been other things, including in enemy territory.}"

[mm_chanter]

"{English,}" Lore says immediately. "{A name like that, or am I wrong? American? Canadian? Whatever. By that last remark and the fact you got in here without those two spotting you for it, I can guess at one of those other jobs right now. Just so long as *we* weren't the enemies--}" something's gone rather understandably hard in both her eyes and her voice on those words, "{we'll be fine.}"

The hand she offers is short-nailed and not as soft as might be expected of someone's best office worker. "{I'm the one who usually tries keeping this crowd in line. Swear to God it's like herding cats sometimes. Just call me Lore. Everybody does except my other half when he's in trouble.}"

Sylvain suppresses a chuckle. "{Which is often,}" he chimes in, still grinning. For her part, Lore rolls her eyes, snorts faintly, and doesn't deny a thing.

[and_far_away]

"English", he confirms. "But I left that behind long ago - and you have my word, you're no enemies of mine." He smiles slightly. "Pleasure to meet you, Lore."

[mm_chanter]

"{Glad to hear it,}" Lore says promptly. "{The ally thing; where you call home is your business. Half of us'd be hypocrites if we said differently, not to mention we'd have DJ, Andy and this man right here--}" she jerks a thumb at Sylvain, who raises his own hand in a palm-outward gesture that looks like something halfway between warding off and agreement, "{--angry at us about it just to start. Anyway.}"

People on the other side of the room do seem to be clustering together a little more than they were before. Seba is visible in the gathering knot, still chatting to the grey-haired man called Brama. "{Sylvain,}" Lore goes on, "{do we get the others up for the debrief? They'll be hopping mad if we don't, but considering... and speaking of.}" Her gaze goes back to Sharpe, though it's not unkind. "{I haven't got a problem with you so far, but good luck convincing everyone, and no offense but we don't know anything much about you. New quantity, you know?}"

She can't know what Sharpe himself has already agreed to about cell debrief, so why wouldn't she tread a little carefully?

[and_far_away]

"{I'll sit this one out}", he says without being asked. "{Maybe I'll go back and sit with young DJ, unless you were going to bring him in on it.}"