[ Unnecessary, she says, and for a moment, there's a flash of a grin that's all teeth, as if Alice had just said something that he had been hoping to hear. But whatever that was, it remains a mystery, since there's far, far too much that follows for Jack to even think about what his own goals had been here.
His head pounds, and he feels blood drip from it, he's sure that it's blood, and it makes him want to laugh more than anything else. He didn't expect that this would be easy. He didn't even expect Alice to play nicely, because as soon as she had expressed interest in wanting to experience human sensation, Jack has lost what little trust he might have put in her then. It's dangerous, after all. He knows it, perhaps more intimately than he would like to admit, because for an AI, the allure of being more than what you were was too much to resist. So he offers himself, but he thinks that she won't manage to do-- He's not sure, really. But no matter what, he's Handsome Jack, and so he'd fight against anything thrown his way without fear.
So, it's strange when there's no fight at all. The opposite, because for each flash, Jack feels each intensely as he's quick to not try and fight the sensations of each. A rational part of his mind probably wants to try and pick out the meaning in the bizarre, but the greedy, desperate part that's so much more attributed to the AI than the man he was based off of wants to consume all of it. Each experience is engrossing, but none so much as the last. The last, as it turns out, ends up being far more personal.
He sees a dead planet, and to him, it's like looking into the future. This-- This is what will happen to Pandora one day. He feels so certain of that, because no one even cares. They're all out for themselves, killing each other, stabbing friends in the back, and no one has any vision for the future. It's only what's right in front of them, and it's chaos. And this, this is what chaos brings. Pandora may be a shithole in the universe, but he's always been so certain that if Pandora doesn't change, this is the only future that awaits it. Lifeless. Desolate. Whether it's because they all killed each other or something else, it doesn't matter, and he feels the despair for all those people lost much more acutely than might be expected... Albeit in just as delusional a way as to be expected from him.
He's Handsome Jack, the man who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, even though no one asked him to. He feels it's his duty, his purpose to save the universe, because he is the goddamn hero. No matter how people look at him now, one day, they'll look back and know he was right. Even if Pandora is cleansed by fire, surely it's better than this.
Jack feels whole again, and he almost drops to his knees for the way it returns to him. It's heavy, incredibly heavy, and yet, as he always does, he laughs. It's that sort of mad laugh that verges on disbelief, since when not sure how to feel otherwise, a laugh has always come to naturally fit that gap. Jack reaches up to his face as he looks to the door, and he's surprised to feel moisture there. Of course-- No, of course he would cry. How could he not cry for that feeling? That future, or maybe someone's present? But still, he laughs as he collects himself, though one almost comes out somewhere between hysteria and a sob. His hand falls away, since there's little point in covering that up here. It's not weakness, for once.
He continues forward through that door without any hesitation. ]
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His head pounds, and he feels blood drip from it, he's sure that it's blood, and it makes him want to laugh more than anything else. He didn't expect that this would be easy. He didn't even expect Alice to play nicely, because as soon as she had expressed interest in wanting to experience human sensation, Jack has lost what little trust he might have put in her then. It's dangerous, after all. He knows it, perhaps more intimately than he would like to admit, because for an AI, the allure of being more than what you were was too much to resist. So he offers himself, but he thinks that she won't manage to do-- He's not sure, really. But no matter what, he's Handsome Jack, and so he'd fight against anything thrown his way without fear.
So, it's strange when there's no fight at all. The opposite, because for each flash, Jack feels each intensely as he's quick to not try and fight the sensations of each. A rational part of his mind probably wants to try and pick out the meaning in the bizarre, but the greedy, desperate part that's so much more attributed to the AI than the man he was based off of wants to consume all of it. Each experience is engrossing, but none so much as the last. The last, as it turns out, ends up being far more personal.
He sees a dead planet, and to him, it's like looking into the future. This-- This is what will happen to Pandora one day. He feels so certain of that, because no one even cares. They're all out for themselves, killing each other, stabbing friends in the back, and no one has any vision for the future. It's only what's right in front of them, and it's chaos. And this, this is what chaos brings. Pandora may be a shithole in the universe, but he's always been so certain that if Pandora doesn't change, this is the only future that awaits it. Lifeless. Desolate. Whether it's because they all killed each other or something else, it doesn't matter, and he feels the despair for all those people lost much more acutely than might be expected... Albeit in just as delusional a way as to be expected from him.
He's Handsome Jack, the man who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, even though no one asked him to. He feels it's his duty, his purpose to save the universe, because he is the goddamn hero. No matter how people look at him now, one day, they'll look back and know he was right. Even if Pandora is cleansed by fire, surely it's better than this.
Jack feels whole again, and he almost drops to his knees for the way it returns to him. It's heavy, incredibly heavy, and yet, as he always does, he laughs. It's that sort of mad laugh that verges on disbelief, since when not sure how to feel otherwise, a laugh has always come to naturally fit that gap. Jack reaches up to his face as he looks to the door, and he's surprised to feel moisture there. Of course-- No, of course he would cry. How could he not cry for that feeling? That future, or maybe someone's present? But still, he laughs as he collects himself, though one almost comes out somewhere between hysteria and a sob. His hand falls away, since there's little point in covering that up here. It's not weakness, for once.
He continues forward through that door without any hesitation. ]