"I didn't know you lived here. Pure chance that I would come across your house," he grins, amused that Mitchell thought of him like that, before flinching again. It was clear that he was in a lot of pain but, he didn't complain, tried not to make a peep if he could help it. It wouldn't do to freak out the guy patching him back together. Quentin sucks in some breath, before explaining his intentions.

"I know, that's why the groups are still separate. You can't trust the wires, and not everyone has a teleporter in their group. Basically I make sure there's no mis-communications. Face it, it would suck if our own kind died by friendly fire." He shifts a little in his seat, there was only so much pain a guy could take before he's uncomfortable.

"Mostly I focus on my own acts of terrorism, it's just important to make sure everyone is at least on the same terms. No good if we don't all work together."