week six - thursday

[refactor]

[ All things considered, this week hasn't been too bad for Jack. Not that he'd really expected it to be, since, well, what did he truly have to fear? His dreams were all of those questions he kept pushing off, of whether he was Handsome Jack or he was just a digital copy, but that's where those truths of his come in handy. Sure, returning to that ghostly form would totally suck (to say the least), but what did he have to worry about? He's Handsome Jack. The longer he has this body, the more certain of that he is.

Though of course, that's not the case for everyone else.

Even so, it's not quite something Jack is thinking of when there's a knock at his door. It's Rhys, so he's not exactly worried here. He takes off the glasses he'd been wearing and sets them on his desk, but after that, he opens the door to greet Rhys with a wry smile. ]

Listen cupcake, gotta say it for the both of us. The cuddling thing? Totally a one-off because we were handcuffed together.

[ because obviously that's why Rhys is here ]

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[ It's strange, to be the one stepping back when Rhys steps forward, but he knows his disadvantage here. Namely, that Rhys is clearly out of his goddamn mind and holding a knife, and Jack is armed with a yet unbroken glass. Shit, this is bad. Rhys rambles on, and Jack considers his options here, trying to run over every scenario he can, but none of them are good enough for him to feel confident. His eyes snap back to Rhys when he talks fo things going back to normal, and there's something about that phrase that gets Jack's expression to shift to something a bit angrier, almost edging into hurt, but the harsh laugh he breathes out doesn't quite match that flicker of something deeper. ]

You stupid piec—

[ Jack starts to respond with venom in his voice, but Rhys lunges forward first. He tenses in an instant, and there's a quick decision he has to make with the path of Rhys's hands. It's Rhys's intense focus on Jack's face that makes his decision, so his hand holding the glass swings out quickly to smash against Rhys's temple. Which mysteriously doesn't cut Jack's hand since I forgot that this would have happened in the trial, whoops.

Of course, that doesn't quite matter, since focusing on trying to get Rhys away means that he didn't stop the knife. Jack half yells out a noise of pain as the knife cuts through his shirt into his side, but, good. It's not too deep that he has to worry right away. That's what he figured, because Rhys wouldn't know how to really stab someone. No way. It was a gamble, but a lucky enough one. Jack tries to grab at whatever piece of glass might have fallen enough to show Rhys how you really do it, but the way Rhys grabs at his face stops him from that. ]

You're dead, asshole!

[ He sounds furious, but really, he's afraid and fighting on instinct more than anything else here, since this is a situation he hadn't exactly expected to find himself in. He'll curse himself for that later. Jack steps back roughly, even if it makes the knife slice deeper into his side, and that step is accompanied with what little he can do. He throws a punch at Rhys's arm grasping his face, since he needs to break that hold first. However, the quick combination of those and Rhys's hand on his face have Jack off balance, so instead of taking a step back to retreat into the bathroom and barricade himself somehow, he stumbles. With the frantic way he'd stepped back, he slips and falls back. It won't give Rhys much time to pursue, but it's a brief advantage. ]

[jackhole]

[ this is all getting out of hand so quickly. if jack could just -- if he could just stay still and let rhys take care of everything, they wouldn't need to do this! instead, jack slams the glass against his head and his vision spins for a moment but he keeps the hold on his knife steady -- ugh, the cut isn't nearly as deep as he wanted it to be. he's ready to push it in deeper, to curl his fingers around the edges of jack's mask but jack is. still fighting.

god damnit, jack. ]

Stay still! You're making this worse than it has to be, Jack!

[ he takes another step forward but it happens to be just when jack falls backwards, a yelp escaping rhys as he finds himself going down with him, clawing even harder at the mask and pressing the knife even deeper into jack's side. the punch lands midway, making rhys lose his grip on jack's face but in response, he drags the knife deeper into jack's side. shit, shit!! they'll land on the floor most likely, with rhys on top of jack and rhys finally pulls his hands back as shock takes over his expression. there's blood on his hands already, his clothes too. this is all just going so... badly... ]

No, no, no, no! You're messing this all up, stop fighting so much -- I just need to. Stop you. Ugh, Jaaaaack.

[ his own hands go to his face, dragging his fingers down in a whine very reminiscent of all the times rhys has let out the same cry when complaining about going to the gym or not wanting to get out of bed or even during that weekend they spent together -- just a few feet away from this spot. if rhys even tried to parse through what was going through his head right now, it wouldn't be easy.

when his hands pull away, there's blood on his face -- both from jack and the jagged cuts on the side of his face from the broken glass -- and he shoves at jack's chest hard with the robot hand, flesh hand trying to reach out again for that damn mask. he's not as quick as he could be though, too caught up in whatever's going through his head to really lash out at jack. he just... needs that mask! ]

[refactor]

Shit- Shit—

[ Jack yells out in pain once he hits the ground, since that knife stabbing deeper into his side isn't exactly pleasant. His heart is pounding in his ears, and though he tries to scramble back, the way Rhys lands on top of him makes that difficult. There's pain shooting through his side, and he can feel it as blood oozes out. On Pandora, this wasn't anything to worry about too much, because there was always a health kit not far away, but here? Here, he doesn't have that kind of security.

He's breathing hard from how he's high off adrenaline, but also just from how each breath sends another sharp bolt of pain through his side. But Jack is nothing if not relentless, so as Rhys's hand presses down on his chest, Jack's hand balls up into a fist and he bangs it against the desk. He's trying to get that bottle of liquor to fall, since if he can get his hands on that, he'll have another weapon here. He's at a disadvantage, and with the stab wound in his side and Rhys's weight on his chest, he can't reverse their positions here so that he can strangle the life out of Rhys.

Though as Rhys's fingers pry at his face, Jack just laughs. It's manic and vicious, because really, he's afraid. To Jack, he feels like he's fighting for his life here, so there's another bang against the desk just hoping for it to fall. ]

This— This what it was about the whole time, kiddo? Not quite- Haha, not quite stabbing me in the back, but you're damn close!

[ The bottle barely moves, so instead Jack grabs Rhys's metallic arm, trying to apply an opposite force at the joint of his elbow to try and break it. He knows he probably won't be successful, but he only needs a slight bit of luck, and maybe... ]

So- So, tell me! How does it feel, Rhysie?