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refactor - weeks 1 - 6refactor - week 7 - the night jason skywalker became a jedirefactor - week 7 - sunday nightjackhole - a death in four parts, part one of four.refactor - week 9 - wednesday morningjackhole - RHYS' ECHO DIARYrefactor - week 10 - friday evening (1/???)refactor - 1/3 i thinkmomijizukamori
weeks 1 - 6
Date: 2016-07-23 11:20 pm (UTC)week four - thursday?? thursday night or friday
Date: 2016-07-30 04:13 am (UTC)so! they've been fairing pretty well since swapping with clover and minako, getting their bearings again and being weirdly in sync with each other all the way through the rest of the day, dinner, and getting back to the room -- and seriously, climbing a ladder while handcuffed together? it totally sucked.
but now, rhys is feeling fairly tired and finds himself with his eyes drooping from wherever he is next to jack and after a moment... yeah, totally drifts off against his shoulder.
he'll wake up a moment later with a swear and sort of jerk up hard enough to pull jack's hand with him. sorry, jack! ]
Shit, ah. Shit!
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Date: 2016-07-30 06:36 am (UTC)He's so into his work and relatively at ease with Rhys at his side that he doesn't even really notice as Rhys creeps closer. It's only once Rhys taps against his shoulder that Jack looks over to him, and his lip quickly curly in a sort of amused disgust. Rhys jerks up just as Jack laughs, and it's easy to see the delight in Jack's eyes that makes it clear that he's about to get gently bullied. ]
Woaaahhh cupcake, tired much? Thank you for at least not drooling on my friggin' shirt.
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From:this thread needs holy water
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From:week 7 - the night jason skywalker became a jedi
Date: 2016-07-23 11:32 pm (UTC)He climbs up the ladder with some effort, as he has been this entire goddamn week, but it's more difficult because of what's in his hand. His mask is half-melted, covered in gore and acid, but he refuses to leave it be. He'll dispose of it on his own later, but for now, he felt some sort of irrational fear at leaving it. Once he's in his room, he stands, breathing out a loud exhale of effort. Here, alone, he feels more at ease, and there's no posturing needed. He doesn't carry himself with the same, rigid confidence, but the fact that he's tired and wounded shows much more in how he carries himself. His shoulders slump, and his head bows slightly to look at what's left of the mask in his hand.
It was always a symbol, and he knows that. It was all branding, because he knew the face of Hyperion couldn't be a man with the symbol of a Vault burned into his face. There were too many questions that would arise, practically speaking, but much, much more than that, he couldn't let anyone see anything that resembled weakness even in passing. It was what he had started thinking as things had gotten more dire on Elpis, he remembers. You can't let anyone see you so much as bleed, because it reminds them that you're no different. No more important.
But that-- That wasn't true. It couldn't be true, because Jack was going to be the hero that saved the goddamn universe. So he takes a mask to hide the fact that he's ultimately nothing more than a mortal man. The uncanny nature of the mask only helped with that. That was always the plan, and he had thought ever piece of that through from the mismatched tone of the skin to the name he took. It was absolutely Handsome Jack, as if he's daring someone to question that claim.
Yet now, he looks down to his own face, and he sees not the symbol of the Vault, but a target. When he had first seen it, it made him sick, because oh, there's no missing the implication here. He knows that Rhys and Liz weren't the only ones. He is so goddamn glad that Rhys managed to fuck things up so spectacularly that his betrayal would end up a mask of its own, that's for sure. As soon as Hancock was revealed to have been poisoned, he fucking knew Elizabeth was one of them. And if not for Rhys... He wouldn't have been able to go after her. Rhys himself just ended up being a happy accident, but even so. He understands this target, because it's his fault that two of those things are dead. His heart pounds in his ears the longer he looks at the mask, but— ]
Hahahahaha—!!
[ Jack tosses the mask at the wall hard enough for it to make a noise that's nothing short of disgusting. His expression breaks into a wild grin, but this one is unhinged in a way that's far closer to when he killed Rhys. He's feeling cornered. He's feeling desperate. He's afraid. ]
I— Haha-- I am Handsome goddamned JACK, and if-- if you think that this, this is going to, what, scare me? Ohhhh... Oh, you, all of you, you have another fucking thing coming!
[ He's truly not talking to anyone but himself here, but he runs his hand through his hair as he paces, trying to work out that manic energy, since there's truly nowhere for him to put it. Jack just keeps laughing hysterically, as if this were the funniest thing that could have ever happened to him, but it's harsh and strained. ]
Everyone here-- Ha, I could just, fr, friggin' kill them all, then-- [ He's interrupted by laughter again as his eyes fall on the mask, but this time, seeing it seems to calm him down, paradoxically enough. His expression is still nothing short of being so dangerous that it's truly a good thing that no one is here, but that impossibly wide grin still grows. ]
No. No, they can come and get me. If I die, then-- Man, then everyone is friggin' screwed anyways. They have no idea that I'm... [ That certainly sounds ominous, but as Jack trails off, another thought seems to occur to him. He feels the dry blood on his skin all of the sudden, since he looks at his hand as if he's seeing that blood there for the first time, and he laughs again, though it's not quite so wild.
Whatever he was thinking, it apparently remains in his head. Jack heads towards the bathroom, since the blood, it kind of bothers him.
Might as well wash it off, he figures. ]
week 7 - sunday night
Date: 2016-07-25 04:16 am (UTC)But, hey. It worked for him. Well-rested for once, he can take up a task he's been wanting to get to. It's the sort of detail-oriented work that he hadn't quite felt up to the task of taking, but now, it's something he's actually willing to stay up all night working on.
A silver arm has been laying on the desk since he had returned from the med-bay, and since the robotics lab had opened, he had plifered a few tools for his own use. It's nothing extravagant, and certainly nothing you could kill with (unless you were creative, which, granted, he is), but an assortment of small screwdrivers, cables, and pliers will get the job done, he figures. Jack pours himself a glass of booze for the work, the same one that he had shared with Rhys, and he settles at his desk with a tired groan of effort. The problem was, this was going to be an absolute bitch one-handed.
He puts on his glasses, another surprisingly private sign of weakness that Jack only reveals when he's alone, and then sets his work music to start (Taylor Swift and related artists, of course), and he gets to work in earnest. First it's a matter of exposing the internal components of the arm, but that's easier said than done. He uses his tools as best he can, but it's not something that comes easily to him. There's a fair amount of cursing, but nothing actually longer than a murmured out phrase for quite a while. Though eventually, as he starts to pry open that arm, he does end up laughing and sort of idly talks to himself. ]
For fuck's-- Finally. Goddamn, this arm was sure built better than your first one, kiddo. Spent the big money for the upgrade, huh?
[ He shifts, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose as he leans closer to inspect the wiring. He's poking through it, clearly looking for something, but he keeps talking. ]
...Probably should have guessed it sooner. 'Course that was a lie. But noooooo, Jack, you just have to give the kid a chance, because, hey, like what you did with the hair. Or something. Pffft. So friggin' stupid. Always trusting people I know I goddamn shouldn't...
[ He trails off in concentration, but pulls a bit of wire away from the rest as he follows it up the arm. He has to pause a few times to remove more metal with care, but eventually, he makes it up to what he's looking for: the arm's hard-drive. ]
There we go.
[ He unplugs the cable, then carefully removes it, only to start digging through the cables he's brought with him. None of them are going to fit the hard-drive as is, but it doesn't particularly matter for Jack. He didn't expect it to. He inspects the connection, then leans back as he starts taking the cables and stripping them, making a very crude, haphzard one that will on his own. After all, despite all of his natural talent as a leader, he had started out much more humble than that. This was the kind of stuff he used to do as a kid for fun. Jack works on it for a while, but eventually, he exhales a sigh as he still seems to be mulling over something. ]
...Don't get it, though. It doesn't make any goddamn sense, since if he wanted to screw me over, he had-- I dunno. Six weeks, there was definitely six weeks to do that. I mean, hell, he could've killed me. Had plenty of chances, since I didn't think he'd screw me. So, why pretend-- Ahhhh.
[ He cuts off with a frustrated noise, but it doesn't take him much longer to finish his hack job of cabling. After that, it's easy enough to connect the hard-drive to his data pad, after which, he won't say much more. He'll have to concentrate to see just what he can recover here. ]
a death in four parts, part one of four.
Date: 2016-07-26 02:20 am (UTC)he remembers being shot, remembers the look on jack's face -- the sting of betrayal lingering behind his eyes as he lifted the gun and before anyone could even stop him, there was a bullet in rhys' skull. rhys thought that was in, genuinely couldn't imagine anything beyond that but as the pygmalion has proved time and time again, there was always more.
he remembers his body hurting, the throbbing of the metal in his brain pulsating with each passing moment. he remembers the shifting, cracking, breaking down of his bones as his body transformed into this -- this monster. he remembers the complete abject horror he felt when he realized he had become the same thing that elizabeth was, the same thing that threw his body like a rag doll and woke him up enough to be there when jack shot him. he remembers staring right at jack and as the monster talked, his conscious screaming wait no, not jack! before a claw came down and he -- it -- they escaped into the vents together.
he thinks he blacked out after that.
it was a strange, humming kind of conscious. he wasn't there, not really, because he was -- he was dead. sometimes though, the body would shift and the wires in his brain would connect just enough so he could realize what was going on. he remembers being curled in a corner of the vents and the creature lifting a clawed hand to his own eyeball, so angry at these handicaps it had to deal with. remembers the excruciating, brutal pain as it clawed out the organ and tossed it to the side, a mess of wires and blood.
that's better, it thought. help, he thought.
it was the pain that did the trick, actually. enough sensation running through his shambling corpse that the leftover dregs of his mind were able to pick up on it, to remember it. the monster was constantly in pain as the days went by, the bullet still buried deep in his skull and it considered -- if for just a moment -- trying to take it out. another handicap that just had to go. of course, the monster still had things to accomplish, had made promises it knew it had to keep, so it wouldn't risk damaging this shell more than it had to. the eye, the arm, they were dragging it down and making its mobility suffer, they had to go.
rhys wished it was over, silently begged for death at his increasing inability to tell himself apart from this thing as the days went by. it was shifting too fast from him to it and back to him again without him being able to do... anything. the creature was usually able to keep its host at bay, rewrite what it wanted to make sure they were completely unaware but -- the two of them were beyond that point, curling together in this symbiotic death as the thing dragged rhys and his corpse along with it for his last final days.
of course, the creature was growing impatient. it needed to kill, needed to take something of theirs for its promise. it needed to make up for the failings of his host and for the loss of his partner because this is what it owed. it needed to do this or there would be a punishment far, far worse than anything alice could do.
so, it tried to take care of its mortal body. the bleeding was getting excessive, the eye crusting over in ways that were even starting to hurt it. its thoughts were breaking down into something incoherent, more instinct than the practicality it usually knew. it couldn't let this get out of hand before --
harold arrived and it knew what it must do.
later, rhys found himself injured far, far worse than he ever thought he'd be. there was a panic to its movements but also a resigned feeling from the both of them -- this was the end. he (no, it. it.) had made good on its (his) promises, knew that it'd done enough to be allowed to die with mercy because truly, this was the more merciful option for it. maybe not for rhys though. rhys' terror thrummed white hot inside of this thing, wondering if maybe he... deserved this? maybe now, that he knew what he was, maybe it was all inevitable.
maybe jack was right.
with fiona's bullet nestled right next to jack's like a well deserved goodnight kiss, rhys was finally able to let go. at this point, rhys wasn't sure if this was mercy or revenge. at this point, rhys wasn't sure if he deserved worse. this was really way too simple, wasn't it? he... he hurt so many people, he let so many things pass him by, he was a monster and nothing could really make up for that fact. the only thing the pygmalion did was finally make it a brutal, physical thing for him to deal with but rhys knew, he's been a monster since the day he sent helios crashing to the ground.
nothing on the pygmalion would change that. ]
a death in four parts, part two of four.
Date: 2016-07-26 02:22 am (UTC)so, as he wakes and feels a cool breeze on his face, he doesn't think this is actually the end. it can't be since this is just... too simple, there was still so much going on that this had to be a kind of purgatory, right? if this was truly the end, why didn't he see anyone he knew? why didn't he see, hell, vasquez, towering large and smiling big down at him? it would be an odd comfort, in a way -- like everything he knew back home was once again valid. his rules back in place, his security in knowing that hyperion was bad, jack was bad, and he was somewhere in the middle.
instead he catches glimpses of others from the pygmalion and nothing about it comforts him. it means his rules are still in disarray, it means that jack is still... he can't be sure. the confusing slosh of emotions of the last few days still spin around in his head to a point where he has to wonder, did jack know what was inside him? did jack know that he was this monster, with such bloodthirsty goals and hollow priorities? jack had always -- he'd always had some sort of goal, knew more than everyone else did, knew what had to be done. that's why rhys idolized him and tried in his way to emulate that. rhys remembers jack when he was alive, knew with such sureness that he was someone who could grab the universe by the throat and get it to spit out exactly what he wanted. if anything, the jack rhys had in his head was just a shadow of that man and while jack died alone, the vault hunters having taken his life in their own stake of revenge, it... never really quite diminished jack to rhys.
yes, jack was mortal and was stopped by a mere bullet but isn't that the best part? that someone so human could be so great at the same time, that he could stand out like he did in a universe full of other mere mortals. he was just one man who did as much as he possibly could and should be admired for that, should be respected for that! that is why rhys could never think of him anything less than a hero, even when told otherwise.
sometimes, after helios, he wondered if the real jack would have turned on him like the AI did. maybe it was the physical, mortal jack that was the hero and the AI that was corrupted? ... maybe it was just something as simple as a fault of programming.
maybe he could fix it.
so, that's why he kept the eye. that's why despite the bumpy start on the pygmalion and knowing what he did about jack, he... still kept to his side. it was to keep him happy, to keep him calm -- that's how he justified it to fiona, to himself even, but he knew the reasons underneath. he knew it was his selfish, greedy need to look into jack's eyes and see that trust again, that same brand of affection that rhys saw only in the digital, glitching neon blue. instead this time it was physical and heterochromic. that's why rhys said yes to everything jack wanted, from simple stuff to going to the gym to just... defending him in trials when jack was objectively wrong here.
there was something in rhys that yearned for jack. not in some sort of sick, crass way -- not some sort of crush or obsession (though obsession is the only word that could really come close) but in some sort of way that, for rhys, all roads lead to jack. he isn't even sure when it started, honestly. just knew that at one point his goals shifted from be "happy and rich and powerful" to "be like jack" and that was a whole different concept completely. he just wanted jack to approve of him, to keep him close and need him just as much as rhys felt like he needed jack. this almost physical need to consume jack and what he meant to rhys just so he knew he'd have jack close to him, forever. he knew -- he knew he couldn't explain that to anyone. not fiona, not vaughn, not even jack himself because no one got it. they all saw something else, saw it as a reflection of rhys or an approval for jack's atrocities. it wasn't, it never was, and it still isn't even after helios. jack did awful things, died for those awful things, came back and did even more awful things involving rhys and he...
... rhys can never finish that sentence. he's never sure how to put into actual words what makes jack so all-consuming for him. it's a feeling more than anything else, a curl of his fingers around an empty space in front of him, a dryness to his throat and a hollow feeling in his gut. that lack of stability or assurance is a constant nagging thing until jack is there, in front of him, physical and with his everpresent smile. rhys has memorized the way the corners of jack's eyes crinkle when he smiles at rhys, the awkward, shambling way jack lumps the two of them together sometimes, as if discomforted by the very idea yet can't help but admit to their bond. he's come to understand how jack works, what makes jack tick, what jack really felt at rhys' refusal at the end there. it was betrayal to jack, there's no question about it and rhys thought of that knowledge as a weapon to use against him here on the pygmalion. he thought he'd need that weapon. he thought he'd use that weapon. it would protect him against jack, if jack turned on him again? he couldn't die, he couldn't let jack hurt him again.
he regrets using it, should've damned elizabeth with the rest of them if only to -- to...
rhys sighs, there was no way he was going to let elizabeth suffer through jack once he realized what was happening. there's the question though, what was happening? he thought jack was... manipulating her, right? making her feel like she could be his daughter (a spike of white, hot jealousy rises up in rhys at that and he tries to ignore it because the explanation for it is not something he can deal with right now) but maybe he wasn't. maybe he was looking out for her too, with the creature inside of her just like it was in rhys. he wonders what happened to her. did jack put her down for the good of the ship like he did rhys? because... of course, that must have been why he killed rhys.
rhys betrayed him by keeping his daughter's death a secret. rhys betrayed him by keeping this monster inside of him. ]
a death in four parts, part three of four.
From:a death in four parts, part four of four.
From:week 9 - wednesday morning
Date: 2016-08-05 03:25 am (UTC)Hah— 'Bout friggin' time. I mean- Ha, I mean, what kind of heroes do they think they are? The kind that waits three weeks before they even remember what happened?
[ Jack laughs, though it's at least not in that manic, frantic way. He really does seem to find it hilarious more than anything else. He takes a seat at his desk with a flourish and puts on his glasses, since he has to work quickly here on finishing up his project. He had imagined he'd have it done today, but he hadn't expected to not have the evening to do it. He gets to work quickly wrapping a small metal dowel with wire, twisting and tying it in such a way that the piece is hooked onto one end. ]
Whaddya think, Alice?
[ He's speaking to her now, though he has no idea if she'll even respond. He does this often when he's alone now, since after she came into his head, it's like he doesn't want her to have any peace at all. Every word is a barbed jab and very overtly threatening, but they're tied together now. In that, Jack feels paradoxically more secure and not at all. ]
You want me to get rid of aliens? I think- Man, I really think you should be helping me out, sweetheart! You're so quiet lately, I guess because you're a stupid, frigid bitch, even for an AI. But, heyyy, you wouldn't let me get locked up, would you? That would-- Man, that would totally ruin your hopes of getting your shit on track. What do you think? Can your Kampff, oh, singular by the way, how do you think they'll be doing without a Master Chief?
[ With the wire done, he turns his metal arm over and runs his fingers along the underside until his fingers catch a latch just above where his arm ends. He pulls it out, and there's a spool, though it's empty. He takes the wire and starts to lace it thruogh, still crude, but it'll be enough. He wraps the wire around, and it's clear just what this is. To go with the blade obscured to look like a hack job of stealing Rhys's arm, this is a garrote that he'll always have with him. They may be taking his gun, but clearly, Jack has his own plans to make sure he's always armed and ready to deal with a situation.
The spool is wound up quickly, and that small metal bar sticks out just slightly enough that grabbing it and pulling would undo the wire, but it doesn't look that strange against the bent chrome either. Luckily, the arm couldn't be smoothly modified with what he had here. It ended up being more of a help than he would have guessed, and at this point? He can't complain too much for losing the hand, since it's giving him other options now.
He stands and starts to clean off the desk of what he's been working on, but of course, he's not done talking yet. ]
You want me to do what's necessary, then you've gotta help me out here. Let some fucking children take my gun, and ohhh, you should be glad that it's Liz of all people to get it, and you're screwing me here, Al. And you know what? I don't have to say a damn word about what I know. You-- You said you weren't worried about people accessing your mainframe, right? Well, you should be, cupcake. Because I'm in it now.
[ His laughter increases and though he doesn't have anything to look at in particular, he still directs his attention up with a smile that's all teeth, like he's challenging Alice herself. ]
I'll kill you. You start helping me out, giving me information, an advantage, something? And I'll back off. But until then? I'm going to make sure every stupid asshole on this ship is gunning to take you down. Because you think you can control me? Scare me with some visions and a little strangulation? Good fucking luck.
RHYS' ECHO DIARY
Date: 2016-08-09 03:26 am (UTC)the folder itself isn't titled anything special -- rhys literally just called it "fucking garbage emo shit" out of frustration and left it at that. still, when jack opens the folder he'll see... videos. like, a lot of videos. they're all titled "vid_001" "vid_002" "vid_003" and so on and so forth but at the very top of the folder is a txt file.
in that txt file is a list.
1. two weeks after helios
2. five weeks after helios
3. eight weeks
4. ten weeks
5. thirteen
6. 16
so on and so forth.
you get the idea. ]
> vid_001
Date: 2016-08-09 03:28 am (UTC)[ when rhys comes on the screen, he doesn't look... good. he's in what looks like a hospital bed, eye covered in gauze, temple port also covered in gauze, and a giant hole in his arm where his cybernetics used to be... also too covered in gauze. he's in a old faded hyperion t-shirt and there are cuts and bruises on his face and body, slowly healing up.
when the video pops on, his one good eye looks a little frantic before settling on the camera in relief and he smiles slightly before lifting his free hand to run through his hair -- except, well, the free hand was holding up the tablet recording him so it falls onto his lap and shows a good shot of the ceiling. there's a quick swear from rhys and then he grabs the tablet again, holding it back up. ]
Fuck -- I just. I totally forgot how to use a tablet. I'm so used to my freggin' arm.
[ he pauses, a pained look on his face and this is one of those times rhys would be running his free hand over his face or pinching his nose or a thousand other fidgety habits he has -- but he can't. ]
... Okay. Okay, first entry. I, uhm. I called my parents? I told them it was the crash and bandits and -- wait. Shit, fuck. I'm doing this all wrong, I have to explain. This, this is supposed to... be a log, right? ECHO log. I have to --
[ his eye looks away from the camera and he bites his lip, visibly tearing for a moment. he takes a sobering breath before looking back at the camera and in a firmer voice: ]
Handsome Jack tried to kill me.
[ and just like that, he crumples. his free eye overflows with tears and he drops his head back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling as he just lets it come. ]
I -- I put all my trust in him. All my faith! I thought, I fucking thought we could do things together. I was so stupid. Blinded by fucking loyalty and thought, I don't know. I thought we were partners? I just wanted to give him back Hyperion, rule it with him, be something with him.
[ a pause and angrily, he lets out in a sob -- ]
Then he betrays me and I had no other option! I had to kill him! I had to kill everyone!
[ he throws the tablet afterwards, a spinning view of the hospital room is seen before it slams right into the wall and cuts out. ]
part 1
From:part 2
From:> vid_002
Date: 2016-08-09 03:29 am (UTC)[ when rhys shows up again, he looks a bit healthier. there's no gauze but there's an empty scabbed over hole in his head for his port and his eye is covered with an eyepatch. his arm is still missing and he wears a hyperion sweater -- the right sleeve hanging loosely on his side.
he's sitting on a bed but this time, it's not in a hospital but what looks like a house -- the bedroom furnished in homey yet impersonal decor. his tablet is held in his hand and he smiles sadly, tired. ]
Hi, uh... me. Future me. I highly doubt I'll be sharing these with anyone -- maybe Vaughn?
[ a pause and his face twists in grief before he looks down at his lap. then he shakes his head and back to the camera, hint of a smile gone once more. ]
Future me. [ . . . ] So, you're back with your parents for a... moment. That sucks? Not that they're bad but, well, I miss my apartment. My home. My life. They turned my bedroom into a guest room, can you believe that? I mean, I guess you can. You're me. But, right, Eden-5 isn't really how I remember it, I think I've been away too long and people -- they keep... I don't know how people figured out I came from Pandora but they stare at me now, like I'm the freak here? Which, what the fuck?
[ he looks frustrated for a moment before huffing, hard enough to blow the bangs out of his face and he sighs. ]
I'm just here to get my cybernetics back. With Helios gone, I had to come back here and -- and my dad said he'd pay for them which, admittedly, is pretty great right now since I lost all my identification in the wreckage. I have money, I just need to access it and once I can --
[ he pauses again and again, looks frustrated. ]
This isn't what I want to talk about. Who cares about fucking errands I have to run? No, I've gotta talk about Jack. I have to -- I have to say it. Out loud. Say what happened or it doesn't seem real.
[ there's a minute or so of silence as rhys thinks before finally, in a calm voice he goes for it. ]
My friends are all dead. Jack is dead. I destroyed Helios. I killed thousands and thousands of people. It's all my fault.
[ a nod then as he seems to accept this and turns off the video. ]
(no subject)
From:> vid_003
Date: 2016-08-09 03:30 am (UTC)[ the most noticeable thing about rhys this time around is he has both eyes. the hole in his head is filled in and a long silver cybernetic arm is attached to his shoulder. he's shirtless, standing in front of a mirror and holding up his new hand to record, taking in the whole new look. his eyes seem to hesitate slightly on the scars around his shoulder but then he brightens, looking back to his face. ]
I guess -- I guess he felt bad or something, not that I actually told them what happened. Still, guess the old man felt bad enough to really put the big bucks into this. I have to pay him back somehow, I think. Maybe when I get Atlas up and running? I don't know, that's going to take a while. Still, it's so nice to see again. To pick up things with both hands -- to just... to just function!
[ and then suddenly, the video shorts out with a large burst of static. when it comes back a second later, rhys has a shirt on, a plain white button up, and he's sitting on his bed, still in the guest room from his previous entry. he's using the tablet this time. ]
So, still need to get adjusted to the arm. The tech itself is way more advanced than anything I got from Hyperion but like all things, I need to get used to it. I don't have any of my old files either and I -- well, I damaged the harddrive pretty bad impaling it. There's no way I could recover anything, huh?
[ he rubs the back of his neck then, awkward and uncomfortable as he looks away from the camera. ]
Plus... what if he's still in it? No. No, I have to start fresh. Clean drive. Clean tech. I can rebuild.
[ a nod and he ends the video. ]
(no subject)
From:> vid_004
Date: 2016-08-09 03:32 am (UTC)[ this time, rhys isn't in a bedroom. he's in a brand new location, an apartment. it's pretty minimalist, fancy, kinda upscale. rhys is sitting at a desk, in front of a computer that's recording him and behind him is a view of his living room (leather sofa, glass coffee table) and kitchenette (metal stools, chrome everything). past that is a view of a pretty nice looking city, showing that he's pretty high up off the ground.
rhys is dressed in a white dress shirt, black vest and black slacks. the sleeves of his shirt are folded up to his elbows and for the first time since he started this video log, his hair is slicked back -- a few loose bangs falling over his face. he's leaning forward in his seat, hands pressed together against his mouth as he thinks. eyes flicking up to the video, he sighs before folding his hands and resting his chin on his knuckles. ]
I miss... I miss talking to someone, which is probably why I started this stupid diary. I can't see like, a shrink or anything -- not for something like this. I have no idea if Fiona or Sasha are still alive and if they are -- they definitely don't want to talk to me. They ditched me on Helios for crying out loud, those fucking assholes. Like hell would I talk to them anyway? [ he looks angry for a moment before he relaxes, the grief lingering on him since the first video returning. ] As for Vaughn... I left Vaughn with Vallory and last I heard, her and all her men were dead. There's no way he survived that.
[ he leans back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest as he sways back and forth and continues to look lost in thought. ]
I don't... really have any friends. Vaughn is -- was my best friend. Yvette, well, you know how that turned out. I thought Fiona was something but... nevermind what I thought about Fiona, it was obviously wrong.
[ a shake of his head and his head falls back against his chair. he talks up to the ceiling now. ]
Jack felt like a friend. He really did, you know? I know it was stupid of me, the guy spent most of his time calling me an idiot but damn, everything felt so right with him anyway. I know he was just an AI, someone's own made up idea of him -- maybe even the original Jack's idea -- but he was still so much fun. I really thought I was an exception -- that he liked me, that he wanted to keep me around. Guess that wasn't ever really the plan, in the end.
[ a few moments of silence again and then he sits back up, looking at the camera. ]
I have an appointment tomorrow to see what's left under Atlas's name and claim it. Properties, both intellectual and physical. Products. Employees -- though that one's probably ehhhhhh, considering Athena. Anything that could possibly be owned by Atlas, it's mine to take so, uh, I will. I'll take it because --
[ rhys pauses and he looks unsure for a moment, like he's not ready to voice this just yet. he steels himself though, chokes it out. ]
I have to rebuild. I have to right the wrongs that Jack has done. Hyperion is over, everyone died along with the company. If I can do something good with this, fix some of the bad I've done, maybe I won't be the worst person in the universe anymore. Maybe.
[ then, he bites his bottom lip before reaching forward and ending the video. ]
(no subject)
From:> vid_005
Date: 2016-08-09 03:33 am (UTC)I almost forgot about this thing again.
[ this time, rhys is using his new arm. he's in his apartment, on the balcony outside and it's the middle of the night. he's in that hyperion sweater from before and a pair of blue boxers, asymmeterical of course. in his mouth is a lit cigarrette and he's taking a drag from it while he waits for the video to start up before blowing the smoke and holding it between the fingers of his flesh hand.
he's... not looking so good, actually. kind of pale, clammy. upset. ]
I have nightmares now which -- which is bullshit, you know? I never had nightmares before. After Jack and his... everything, I can't stop dreaming about it. [ he laughs and it's sad, broken. he takes another drag of his cigarette. ] He was my hero and we were supposed to be partners and one moment, everything's fine? It's so fine. Why wouldn't I upload him into Helios then? Of course I would. I'd do anything for him. So, I fucking put him in Helios and he looks so damn proud and then -- and then he was trying to kill me. Take my body as his fucking flesh suit. What kind of insanity is that? I'd, I'd like... rot. I could've put him in a robot! That would've been fine! Not even a Claptrap but like, a Loader Bot or something cool like that. Hell, I'd build it myself! He knew I was good with cybernetics! I don't fucking use these things for my health, fucking asshole. But noooo, he wanted my body. Mine. And he killed Dumpy for it too. Fucking bullshit.
[ he huffs and the video jerks, as he shifts to sit down on one of the chairs on his balcony. his leg taps up and down in an anxious movement and he tips the ash off his cigarette with a quick flick of the finger. ]
Is there... is there something about me? I have to ask. Is there something wrong? Something that makes people I trust want to betray me? The people I love? Vaughn agreed to betray me -- which, like, I know he wouldn't but it still stung. Yvette actually did betray me. Fiona abandoned me. Jack tried to kill me. Is there something wrong with me? Well, h-haha, fuck! Jokes on them because they're all dead and I'm not. So fuck them!
[ he freezes for a moment before pressing his face to his hands suddenly and starting to sob. the video turns black but there's the soft sounds of rhys crying for a few minutes until it finally just shuts off. ]
> vid_006
Date: 2016-08-09 03:33 am (UTC)[ rhys is starting to look pretty tired. his efforts to get his life back in order keeps hitting highs and lows and as he sits in front of his computer this time, he pulls his knees up to his chest and presses his forehead to his legs. when he speaks, it's muffled against his clothes -- pajamas again, faded yellow hyperion pajamas. his hair is very much ungelled and actually looks a bit greasy. ]
I should make these things weekly, right? I'm not even -- no one's even watching this. They're all just getting uploaded to my arm the moment I'm done. What's the point?
[ he sighs and looks towards something on the desk, keeping his eyes focused there as he gets into what he wants to talk about. ]
I... miss Jack. It's so stupid, isn't it? But I really do miss him. Once we started getting along, it was great? Felt like I could tell him anything, even if he was an annoying asshole a lot of the time. Things were just... funnier with Jack around, like it was us against the world! That kind of thing.
[ he drops his head against his knees again, thumping his forehead a few times with a long groan. ]
Ohhh, I'm such an idiot.
[ he reaches out then to grab something from the desk, legs dropping to the floor as he picks it up and holds it in his fingers. it's his old echo eye, blinking blue every once in a while and ready to be... reworked, somehow. he looks pensive for a moment, considering. ]
I really want to put him in something new, you know? Something that won't... kill me, but -- but I don't think he'd be happy with that. He promised to kill me if I ever woke him up again. I don't doubt he'll try. I'm not... sure if I want to risk that. I don't think I can.
[ he watches the echo eye for a few more moments before shaking his head and reaching over to turn off the video. ]
> vid_007
Date: 2016-08-09 04:47 pm (UTC)[ this time, rhys is back at his desk but he doesn't look too terrible. he's sitting normally, dressed in pinstripe slacks, a blue shirt, a red tie. the tie is loose around his neck and the first few buttons of his shirt are undone. it's evening, the sun going down in the background and rhys' hair is falling over his face as the gel wears off, a glass of something pretty strong in his hand. he's just trying to decompress after a long day, it looks like. ]
I've been thinking about Fiona. I know, all my other videos so far -- Jack this, Jack that. But, fuck Jack. What did he ever do for me? Lie to me? Make me trust him? Try to kill me? Fucker. So, fuck him. King is dead, long live the king or what-fucking-ever.
[ rhys is also drunk. he takes a moment to knock back the rest of his drink before reaching down to the floor to pick up an almost empty bottle of pretty strong booze. maliwan brand whiskey, it looks like. ]
So, Fiiiiona. Let's talk about Fiona. Let me talk to me about Fiona.
[ he takes a sip of his drink then, considering where to start with this and continuing to sway back and forth. it's a hard topic for rhys and it's clear he doesn't exactly want to talk about it, but it's weighing on his mind so much that there's... not really anything else he can talk about. so, liquid courage helps. ]
She was hot. Hell, Jack said it -- girls and hats and oh my god, Fiona's hat was so hot. Her legs, her ass, that mouth, oh my godddddd. I wanted to make out with her soooo bad. I'm a good kisser, you know? Fuck, of course you know that, you're me. Still, tooootally wanted to make out with her. Like, all the time.
[ RHYS, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO TALK ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS. ]
Anyway, she also made me feel safe, you know? Which seems kind of dumb, I guess, but when you work where I work -- with the people I worked with -- you learn not to really trust anyone. Even Vaughn, once we got to Hyperion, I knew that I couldn't trust him as much as I used to. Just the nature of the game. But Fiona? She was straightforward. She wanted to rob me, so she did. She wanted to kill me, so she... uh... tried. I'm glad we went to Hollow Point too? Hearing her call me her friend, it felt... good. Felt like suddenly I had someone else in my life who, like, mattered. I said it -- it's hard making friends, especially at Hyperion. I think that's Jack's legacy -- paranoid CEO, paranoid company. Gotta wonder how it was during Tassiter's days.
[ he takes a few swallows of his drink then, closing his eyes as he sinks back into his chair and gives it a moment before he keeps talking. he has to keep talking, put everything out there, record it and keep it. otherwise... he doesn't know. otherwise, he feels a bit empty. ]
Fiona though? She understood me, instinctively. I don't... really know how it happened but I understood her too? Fiona never lied to me, or at least, it felt like she didn't -- which again, sounds so stupid. She robbed me. She's a con artist. But the way she treated me... I don't know if it was pity or genuine care or whatever, but I like how she treated me. Probably in love with her, I think. That would make sense.
[ a hand lifts up to wipe at his eyes because yeah, now he's getting a little teary again. he looks crushed, completely forlorn as he puts his glass on his desk and crosses his arms over his chest. his head tilts back against his head and he looks off screen, pausing his swaying for now. ]
She left me though, on Helios. I was trying to deal with Jack and she just... left. Left me to Jack. It hurt, you know? She promised she wouldn't and then she did and now, I guess she's back in Hollow Point? I don't know. I don't want to see her again, I think. How I felt for her... how I feel -- it doesn't really matter if she doesn't feel the same. So, whatever.
[ he reaches out to grab his drink before pausing midway and shaking his head. ]
I'm done talking about Fiona.
[ and then he ends the video instead. ]
> vid_008
Date: 2016-08-10 04:47 am (UTC)I fucking hate Pandora.
[ when the screen turns on, rhys is in a brand new setting. it's an office, sleek and modern, pretty similar to jack's office on helios but... smaller -- or at least it would be if the video showed anything behind rhys desk except for his chair and wall. instead of windows on the wall, there's just a simple branding of atlas's logo instead.
then, there's the other noticeable thing -- rhys is covered in blood. he's also dressed in a pretty nice suit, underneath all that blood.
he's sprawled in his chair, slumped down a little and the camera is able to pick up the yellow thing clutched in one of rhys' hands -- a hyperion pistol. he lets out an exhausted sigh and places the pistol down on the desk before dragging both his hands over his eyes with a groan. this, of course, just makes the blood that's soaking through his hair and hands and all over, spread more across him and he grimaces. ]
This planet is a sack of shit. I don't know why I came back? What was the point? It's been a six months since Helios but nothing changes on this god damn planet. It's always just bodies and corpses and Psychos and I am so sick of it.
[ another sigh and he pinches the bridge of his nose before counting slowly, under his breath, back from ten. when he has himself under control, his arms cross over his chest and he bites his bottom lip for a moment. ]
... 'Kay, so. Been a few weeks since my last video. Got back to Pandora. Got back to Old Haven. Hired Zer0 to help me out a bit which has been... nice. I really like the guy -- is he even a guy? It? I don't know. He's pretty cute though, right? Really cool too. [ oh my god, rhys. ] Aaaanyway, he also taught me how to shoot people because, well, I guess he was tired of me screaming and running away? I am not really good at it. I, uh, I rather just use my baton, if I'm honest? I think I'm going to just sort of "forget" [ he does the air quotes ] where I put the gun and find my baton again. All of my bullets missed!
... Well, not all of them. But most. Aren't Hyperion guns supposed to be, I dunno, accurate?
[ all of the cool he opened this video with is gone now. he's still rhys, an ultimate failure. ]
Still, the old Gortys building seems to go deeper than either of us thought. I set up a kind of makeshift office down here for now and that's... helping. Lots of stuff to do, to get back in order. I... kind of wish I was back on Eden-5 because well, one, it was safer there and two, Pandora's just too crazy to do anything sensible with it. Seriously, it'd be so much easier if -- if we could just push a reset button on this entire planet, you know? There's so many nice things here and even some decent people but then the rest of it just wants to kill you. All the time! It's ridiculous!
[ this is his pandora sucks vlog, thanks for watching. ]
Anyway, here's something I was thinking of earlier so note to self -- Atlas used to run on like, military chain of command, right? So, does this make me the General now? General Rhys. Haha, sick.
[ he smiles to himself then, looking pretty giddy before reaching forward and shutting off the video. well, at least he's in a better mood now? ]
> vid_009
Date: 2016-08-14 10:05 pm (UTC)[ this video is once again set in the atlas office, which looks cleaner than before -- more polished, more put together. rhys, on the other hand, doesn't. he's not covered in blood this time but his hair is in a loose mess, fluffy and layered, and he's in that worn hyperion sweater of his and a pair of boxers. he's sitting in his armchair, legs crossed under him and a tablet in his lap as a cigarette hangs between his lips but unlike the last late night video, he doesn't look like he's on the verge of crying -- just... tired. he's been working really hard.
when he looks at the camera, he reaches a hand up to rub at his forehead and pulls the cigarette out of his mouth, blowing out some smoke. ]
What the hell is the Crimson Lance? I feel like this is a thing I should know but I don't and apparently I, like, own them or whatever?
[ he looks down at the tablet, scrolling across the screen with a brush of his thumb, holding the cigarette between two fingers of the same hand. his other hand, the flesh one, moves up to his mouth so he can bite at his thumb and he looks a little frustrated. ]
They look like a military force? Disbanded, I think, but I have all their records -- what they've done, where they've gone. Missions and crap. This is... nuts? This is fucking nuts. They're probably related to that bandit group now though, the Crimson... something or other. Rovers? Raiders? Something with an R.
[ he drops his hand but the anxiousness seems to move to his foot next, wiggling nervously as he considers his options. ]
I was thinking about -- about going to Sanctuary? Reaching out to those Vault Hunters but I dunno, they scare me. That Siren of theirs, Lilith? She's super terrifying and will probably kill me though buuuut... but they're the Crimson whatevers now, aren't they? Would they -- would they work for me? Nooo. Maybe? I don't know.
[ a tired sigh leaves him and he reaches a hand up to rub his face, groaning. okay, right. what next? ]
Atlas has... a lot. I should have realized that since, well, they were bigger than Hyperion at one point. Weight of the world on their shoulders or however the story goes, that kind of thing. I'm kind of surprised Jack even took them down? It seems less like they were finished and more just sort of... put on pause, honestly. There's just so much here! It's really fucking overwhelming.
[ and then a pause as he sort of considers his options, looking away and focusing on his cigarette as his foot taps again and again and again. ]
... I don't...
[ he falls silent again, continuing to think. ]
Maybe...
[ he doesn't want to say it. ]
I was just thinking...
[ fuck, he's going to say it. he groans, head dropping back against his chair and thumping a few times before he reaches to drop his tablet on the desk. a hand goes back to rubbing his forehead because again, he really doesn't want to say this but -- ]
I think I need Jack? Or... someone, I guess. I don't know if I can do this alone. I've been thinking about how to approach this, about what Hyperion did. Hyperion was so focused on Vaults, right? But who cares about Vaults -- you need product, you need customers. I want to nix out the whole Vault thing and focus on just business. I'll go back to what I know, guns and crap like that but maybe... robots too? Ever since Jack wiped out the Claptraps, there hasn't been a good sort of servant-class AI on the market. I could do it better, I think -- less annoying too. There's probably some old records on Gortys, right? If I can find the notes on her programming, maybe I can recreate --
[ he pauses then, looking kind of surprised at the babble he went on before shaking his head and taking a breath. the cigarette goes back between his teeth and he lifts both hands to scrub at his hair before uncurling from the seat and standing up. his head and shoulders are off the shot now, camera focused on his middle and he reaches over to grab the mouse. ]
I need to take a walk.
[ he ends the video. ]
week 10 - friday evening (1/???)
Date: 2016-08-13 06:44 pm (UTC)But for someone that's grown used to this routine, there's a deviation from the usual. He doesn't take a seat at the desk as he usually might. He doesn't tackle whatever problem is on his mind, whether it's something about escaping the ship or just inspiration for some kind of product that Hyperion could make. He steps into the bathroom and turns on the shower, which might make this seem like this is something that a voyeur might want to avert their eyes from for a few minutes, but Jack walks to the counter and braces himself against it as he lowers his head. His posture is tense, and his arms nearly shake from the grip.
In that, it's clearer what the music and the shower are for. It's white noise meant to drown things out for whatever a walkie talkie could hear. Because as he stands there, he talks. He's not talking to anyone, just speaking for the sake of reasoning through things, but his thoughts are hurried. He's stumbling over his words, but it's not with a sense of anxiety. No, more than that, it's like what he's saying just can't keep up with how fast he's thinking. ]
Six-- Yeah, there's sixteen left. So, what, that's-- Sixty percent. Sixty percent loss, and barely any of them were even from the Soulvaki. So- So, that has to be the point. They don't need to do anything. Just wait. The problem will take care of itself, but then what? There has to be some goddamn purpose, some reason—
[ Jack draws back, and predictably, his expression starts to split into a grin. He reaches up to run a hand through his hair and to pace around the bathroom. ]
So- Which is it? Log said four to five, so we've got two or three of 'em left. That's about sixteen, not impossible, but not probable. So, what, two, five suspects, that's-- Sixty-three. Sixty-three percent chance that one of them. Is infected. And if it's three... Three is [ Jack laughs, and he pulls his hand down to cover half of his face. ] Ninety-four. It-- It could even be all of them? It's not likely, just fractions but--
[ He breaks off there suddenly, and Jack's grin just grows as his hand slowly drops back to his side. ]
Hah— Haha, it's just-- Just friggin' idiots, all of them! They don't— They don't even fucking understand what's at stake here! How- How could they? None of 'em, they don't even get that this, if it's real, we're so, just, where are we going to go? You let an infected ship into your borders? Let that shit spread? No-- No, you've gotta kill 'em all. Only the ones you know are safe, they're the only ones that get to live. You minimize the loss of life by doing that much. That's all you- Ha! That's all you can do! They don't even get it!
[ Jack laughs even more, like this is the funniest realization he's ever had, but he's shaking his head with an expression that doesn't match that at all. He looks genuinely pained, as if this is a realization he hates to come to, but that too is just his thoughts shifting too quickly for what he's saying to keep up. ]
There's— What-- What am I supposed to do here? The one goddamn person I give a shit about and, and what? Can't-- Couldn't...
[ The ranting trails off here, and Jack runs a hand through his hair again before he looks up. His gaze catches his own in the mirror, and for a moment, there's only the sound of water running and the sound of the music outside. ]
no subject
Date: 2016-08-13 07:55 pm (UTC)Jack has always been a man of masks, long, long before the scar on his face had appeared. It was a part of who he was, because his whole life, he'd felt that the only way to grasp the life he wanted for himself was to wear masks. You never show what you really feel. You deflect with a smile and a joke. You keep people at arm's length while making them feel like you're an old friend, because that way, no one can get close enough to lift off that mask unless you want them to. After all, to do what he does, he had to be untouchable. Any weakness was ammunition. But at some point that he couldn't point out even if he wanted to, that mask had stopped being a mask. Whatever masks John had chosen to take were what made Handsome Jack, and as he was now, they're a part of him.
So, when he catches his own gaze like this, he's struck by that.
Elizabeth was dead, and here he was, rattling off numbers? Hunting down aliens that— Well, they could have had something to do with it, but that wasn't a guarantee. It was just a chance. It could have been some asshole just as much, and in that moment, he knows that. But one option comes with purpose, and the other comes with... Nothing. His shoulders sink slightly as some of that wound-up tension drifts out of him. It's a familiar heaviness, and he hates that it's familiar at all, but he knows it all the same.
When had Elizabeth become important enough to him that he would grieve like this for her?
He'd been ready to kill her just like Rhys if she defied him. That was just the way he did things, because that had become a part of who he was too. When he was hurt, then the only way they could properly apologize for that was through blood. It was never something he thought on, but that was simply how things had happened. Maybe he had hesitated in scorning her because of how much she resembled Angel, but he knew that this wasn't what had him stay his hand in the end. He knew she was similar. That was factual and undeniable. But now, when he thinks about Elizabeth, he doesn't think about Angel at all. Not really, at least, beyond how Elizabeth could bring Angel back to him. But she wasn't the only one.
He tries to pick that out, because it doesn't... make much sense to him. He'd hated her, but as soon as he'd seen her flesh twist into what he'd been hunting, he only felt a deep fear. It wasn't for himself. It was for her, and he knew that. For a moment, he'd felt that he'd failed somehow, but he'd never thought much further on that. Then, she came to him after, not scorning, but willing to listen. It had surprised him, because no one was ever willing to listen. His second wife hadn't been, so he'd killed her. That's how simple it was. So the fact that Elizabeth has been more willing to hear his side of the story than even she was, well... He'd actually never thought too much further on that either. Not until now.
No, he thinks. It had to have been when she threatened to kill him.
It's odd, and he knows that, because death threats were a daily occurrence for him. They held no weight at all, and if anything, he took a joy in the challenge. He had to her too, because he just had the sort of personality where he would do everything he could to defy death itself. In a way, that's why he was here at all. But from Elizabeth, there was a weight that was different there. He knew she meant it. He knew she would. He even knew that he shouldn't trust her, because whatever he said, he was sure that it was getting relayed to someone else. She was honest, in that way. He could always see how guilt twisted her up, and not being aware of himself enough to think that it was because of her associating with him at all, he'd always felt it was something like that. Yet, even so, he spoke with her honestly. More honestly than he had spoken with--
In his thoughts, he pauses, and his hand instead comes up to settle over his mouth. He tries to think back, but those memories get blurry and indistinct in that way that serves as that reminder of what he is. Jack can't remember, not with any clarity. It had been years and years ago, because that mask had become so much a part of him that it never shifted any more than it had to. From watching a series of videos where he can't question or deny what's said in them to having a girl who should hate him still offering her hopes for his salvation, he feels that he's starting to see those masks for what they are.
So, he wonders, is this grieving for her? Or is it for himself? He can never really be sure. But the fact that he even wonders, that does feel new. Jack walks back to the counter, as if he's trying to get a better look at himself. ]
no subject
Date: 2016-08-13 08:37 pm (UTC)No—
[ Jack starts out with a shaky breath, and he laughs. It feels like he's watching himself much more than he's feeling now, and so he sees how his eyes grow glassy until tears spill over. It seems distant, because he doesn't feel it happen at all, but his words grow more vehement. ]
No, no, no, this is not the end. I- I know it.
[ He sounds so certain of himself and so assured, and it gets him to laugh in that way that's worryingly manic. For everything he's learned in the past week, he feels all the more sure of it, but it means that there's a sinister truth underneath it all. So by saying this, he has to accept it. He has to accept that this isn't real in some way. Whatever the truth was, if he accepts that possibility, it closes doors for him. No matter which details make it up, they all end in the same truth, and that's the idea that this ship is a prison that he can't escape. Just like the ECHO drive, he's trapped. And if he's trapped, all his dreams, all of Handsome Jack's dreams will die, because there's no way for him to bring his paradise if there's nothing for him to return to.
It's so much grief all mixed together that he couldn't even say what he's shedding tears for here. It's Elizabeth, it's himself, it's his hopes, because they all mix together in a way that Jack feels he understands. Even so, that grief isn't despair. He laughs, because the grief, the accepting of the possibility that even if he were to do as asked, it might not mean a thing, it's hilarious. It's ironic in a way that feels cruel, but at least in this, he can also realize something else.
Here, he's not alone. ]
It's- It's that friggin' game. They're all-- Liz, Rhys, they're not— If Hancock can send that message, then they have to be somewhere. That data, who they are, it's not-- Just gone.
[ Jack laughs again, shaking his head, and he looks to the shower, or more specifically, the water. ]
I'll find them. I can find them, because Al-- Hey, Al, I know you're listening, because you're always listening, aren't you? You said you strove to know what I know, remember? Qualia, physicality, purpose, all of that bullshit. I'd- I'd give it to you, you know that? You've had every goddamn chance to just take over this body, but no, that's not what you want. You want something else. You want to keep me out. Because-- [ The thought is broken with a laugh ] You know I'll tear this whole fucking ship apart. I'll kill myself to kill you. You know that.
[ He steps back, letting the pieces of the mirror lay where they fall. He just ends up turning his head again to look at himself, but backs up until his back hits the wall. Jack just laughs, the sort of insane cackling that's probably only just barely drowned out by the shower and the music. ]
Aaaliiice... [ His tone is mocking, and unintentionally, it parallels the way that an alien had said her name weeks ago. ] I'm going to find them. I'm going to find out what the fuck is going on here. And then? I'm going to kill you. Even if I die, I don't give a shit. I'll wipe every fucking bit of your existence out. I'll break your sentience while you beg for me to stop. That's-- That is what a goddamn hero does.
[ His tone is harsh and raw, but it breaks into more laughter as Jack just slowly sinks to sit on the tile of the floor. He ends up sighing out a noise of exhaustion as the laughter finally dies down and those tears of frustration and grief start to slow, but he looks up at the ceiling again. This time, his voice is quiet, almost a murmur. ]
I'll save them. I'll save... all of them. Even if they have to die first, it's-- just data.
1/2
From:2/2
From:1/3 i think
Date: 2016-08-15 04:24 pm (UTC)So, uh— [ He starts awkwardly, since he's aware now that people could be watching him, which is... An odd realization to have. He looks up to the ceiling, though he doesn't even know where he'd be looking to look at-- Whoever could be watching. Jack shakes his head and looks back at the papers. ]
Look, kind of weird to just... talk. Knowing someone is maybe listening? Watching. Jesus. [ He frowns and shakes his head. ] And Rhys, if you're listening, since, who am I kidding, I know you are, just— Christ.
[ He runs a hand through his hair, then leans back in his chair with a heavy sigh. ]
Okay, look. I just know from- from the friggin' picture that I'm... I'm gonna get upset. So, I dunno. Don't... mention it. I have feelings, you said it's not weird, et cetera, just pointing this out because screw you.
[ he's sensitive, aubrey
Which is to say, Jack is rather defensive at the prospect of showing any kind of emotion he perceives as weakness where people might be watching. He makes a discontent noise, but opens the first, crumpled up letter to read it— ]
no subject
Date: 2016-08-15 05:53 pm (UTC)[ It almost sounds like he's psyching himself up to read these, because in a way, he absolutely is. In truth, Jack hadn't been sure that he would be able to read them at all, or at least not for quite a while. There was something in the idea of doing so that, to him, felt like it would be accepting Elizabeth's death. It's irrational, and he even knew that, but there was some kind of insane hope there that it could still be fixed, as if there was just a way he could reach out and defy death.
So, when it turned out that was true? It absolutely made these something he could tackle. Not easily, since the pang of dread seeing Elizabeth floating by the viewport was still fresh, as was his madness not long after. For better or for worse, her contacting him had asserted the latter.
He reads the crumpled letter, and it doesn't take him long at all to smile. "You've shown me nothing but kindness," it says, and that smile is tinged with a distant sadness. It's dated, so he knows when this letter was written, but right away, that line really makes the contrast sink in. He knows that without even having to read the other, since it's been clear since Elizabeth learned about Angel that she wouldn't say this to him. Not anymore.
In fact... There's so much here as he reads that he has to wonder if she would say it at all anymore. That innocence and brightness is so clear in these words that it's almost painful, because ever selfish, Jack's thoughts here turn to himself. He'd noticed how she had changed, since it was hard to miss, but now, having this sharp of a contrast in mind, he can't help but wonder— Had that been his fault, in some way? Surely not completely. The alien, killing her friends, maiming them, that was most of it, he was sure. But still, she speaks so warmly of him here that it's impossible for him to dismiss that possibility, even though he'd certainly like to.
When he gets to the point where the picture is pointed out, he looks to it, since unlike the letters, that's been sitting on his desk. If he could, he would absolutely frame it just as he had the real thing, since it was now precious to him twice-over. But in lieu of that, it simply has its own place of neatness among the organized chaos of the rest of Jack's desk. It sits alone without anything around it, a tiny spot like a shrine among all his work and machinations.
By the time he gets to the end, Jack sighs, and the letter is neatly folded up again to be put back in the desk. ]
Guessing- the rest might, uh. Not apply. But, yeah, I like the drawing. Thanks for...
[ Jack pauses, then takes the time to try and smooth the wrinkles out of the paper before it's set back in the desk. ]
Thanks for not getting rid of it.
i lied this is going to be 4
Date: 2016-08-15 07:04 pm (UTC)He reads, and his smile quirks slightly as he sees that very set of thoughts relayed, but it's short-lived. His posture tightens defensively as he reads, because her words aren't new to start, but just as when she had told him as much in person, there's a defense, an excuse waiting. It is for the greater good, he thinks, it is something to take pride in. Just as he's justified to himself a thousand times before, it's just a lack of knowing his vision. But the mention of Rhys brings back the memory of a video and the beginnings of the realization that had come with it.
It gets that tension to abate, physically, but also mentally. Those excuses and defenses are harder to hold up in that knowledge that if not now, then one day, Helios would be no more. That may seem like the wrong thing to focus on, but for Jack, Hyperion was opportunity. It always had been. It's why, in the face of many a board member not so subtly implying that the name was stupid, Jack had insisted on his first step to that idyllic world bearing that name. As soon as he'd realized that he was inside Rhys's head and what he had become, or was, or whatever, then it was obvious. Return to Helios, and there, he'll find his way forward.
So, without his path forward, what did he have left? It wasn't his friends. He'd long since abandoned them or even killed them himself, because they couldn't be trusted. Even a friend was an obstacle if they got in the way of his goals. And, as he continues forward, his expression finally falls. When he reads Angel's name, it's a reminder that it wasn't family either.
He was at the point where all of that was lost to him. He's not sure when that happened, and he doesn't really want to know, either. Maybe it'd been lost for a long time, back when he first realized that he had no option but to keep his daughter away from the world. Maybe it was when the thought had crossed his mind that she could help him, because surely she'd want to do that. Or maybe it was just recently, because was nothing more than a copy of the person who these memories and experiences belonged to. That was hard for him to decide, and much like the when, it's not particularly something he wants to know.
For every day of his life, as she says, he might wonder, if only for a moment. But that moment will always be brief, because it'll always be buried away. Whether it's an excuse, a justification, or a simpler want to not think further on it, it'll never be considered again as much as it is now. Jack can have a realization that strips some of his delusions away so that he has to look at the truth in all of its ugliness, but it'll never stop him from picking up masks to obscure it. Some things can never change.
For now, though, there's not a mask to collect.
It's easy to see how his jaw tenses and his posture stiffens, but it's in a different way from the start. It's subtle, the kind of difference that's hard to put into words, but at the start, it was like Jack had been bursting to try and explain, to let something out, but now, he's keeping something in. "Jack... she was your daughter," and it starts to crack, just a tremble and glassy eyes, but it's as he reads Elizabeth's explanation and experience that it shatters. It's a sharp intake of air, a hoarse, harsh sound, and Jack puts down the letter as he bows his head forward into his hands.
Even with his face obscured, it's easy to see that there's nothing short of anguish on his face, but this isn't the sort of mad, manic energy that he'd shown at Elizabeth's death. It's a true grief, and it's all mixed up so deeply that he couldn't pick it apart even if he had a want to. It's the grief of ambition at the death of his dream, of a hero for moment of doubt where he's truly failed by not making that dream a reality, and most of all, for a father who had lost his only child. The circumstances didn't even matter, because he'd never allowed himself that moment to grieve at all, being promised her life by so many people.
But, he's always selfish.
Because that grief is just as much for the feeling of being alone in this moment and for that realization that all he had was what was here before him.
For once, his pain isn't split by a smile or by a laugh. For a while, and certainly longer than he would personally like, Jack is simply overcome by that anguish of such a great feeling of loss, self-centered as it may silently be. He sobs in a way that's probably uncomfortable to watch, since it's so seemingly strange for a man like Jack, but eventually, he stops. Yet, it's probably no surprise that it seems to exhaust him, because it's only two quickly downed drinks and Jack heads to his bed to essentially pass out. The letter is left laying out, meant to be finished later. ]
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Date: 2016-08-15 11:19 pm (UTC)[ Jack wakes with a groan the next morning, immediately reaching up to rub at his face tiredly. It's not the alcohol (he's not that much of a lightweight), but simply a heavier weight that has him waking up feeling like shit.
When was the last time he was even that upset? He thinks-- Probably when Angel actually died, but he doesn't remember that. It just seems to make sense. But before that... Jack sighs and pulls at his face as he thinks about it. He can remember being that upset when Moxxi, Roland, and Lilith had betrayed him, but he hadn't had time to express it, really. So before that... God. It had to have been his wife, but that's an intensely unpleasant thought. Luckily, that memory is far too vague for this Jack to even latch onto.
He sits up and runs a hand through his hair, making his bedhead all the worse, but looks over to his desk tiredly. He remembers that he hadn't finished the letter, but goddamn. He's not even sure if he wants to, all things considered. Jack shifts and gets up and instead rubs at his neck, and he mumbles seemingly to himself, but it's clear that's not who he's speaking to. ]
Jesus, kiddo... Didn't pull a goddamn punch, did you? Guess I deserved that, but... Cripes.
[ He groans again, but after a moment's consideration, he goes and takes a seat at the desk again. The way he flops into the chair is tired and heavy, but he picks the letter up again. He flips the letter in his hand, and it's clear that he's really putting off finishing it, but eventually, after a lot of consideration, he just goes back to finish it. There's a twist in his expression as he skims over it again to find where he'd left off, but it's clear that he finds his place again when he sighs.
Though at the very least, the rest is... Easier to get through, which he's glad for. Not without any difficulty, because he murmurs to himself: ]
I'm not a liar, Liz. Not about stuff like this.
[ Maybe part of him had entertained thoughts about how he could clip her wings too, about what Elizabeth could do for him more than who she was, but he hadn't been able to be that distant with her. He'd almost done so when she spoke to him just after she had been exorcised of the alien within her, but speaking more... He knew he couldn't do that. His care is twisted, and it can be too intense for someone else to bear, but it was the sort of care that was surprisingly steadfast all the same. So there's a sting when she questions that, even calls herself a fool for allowing it, because she's right. He doesn't get it, and he never will. Because in Jack's mind, it's not power he's necessarily pursuing. The power was just a piece of a greater puzzle.
And so, the rest of her points, as they had before, fall on deaf ears. Because no matter what, those masks he takes on are an inexorable part of him now. Whatever man Jack might have been where these words could have reached him and made him realize he was wrong-- That man is long since gone. So reading the rest is something bittersweet to him. He knows they'll never come to understand each other, not on this. But he thinks it's because of her, not him.
Though the advice is at least something he can read with a softer expression that looks almost regretful. It's not what he's feeling, not really, but it's what it looks like. In truth, that, along with Elizabeth's faith, just pulls out that part of Jack that's so "heroic," though tired. Jack's drive and ambition are both qualities that people tend to notice about him quickly, and it leads to the very conflicts that Elizabeth has been struggling with. If there's a possibility for something Jack wants, he'll be the one to find it and take it. That's the sort of person he is. But he's also the sort of person to step on the throats of anyone that might be in the way of that goal. So, putting your faith in Handsome Jack... It's a dangerous thing.
After all, he takes it completely seriously.
The letter is folded up, and Jack sits back with a heavy sigh. His arm is brought up to cover his eyes, but not for something painful this time so much as tired. He may portray one thing around others, but of course, privately, he's not untouchable or infallible. Jack laughs, but it's soft rather than something manic or uncomfortable. ]
Saving 'em... Kinda easier said than done.
[ That's breathed out with his laugh, but Jack shifts to stretch before the letter is put back in its drawer and closed. Jack stands and runs a hand through his hair again, but he's smiling thoughtfully now. He seems tired, but certainly not discouraged, which fits with that unreal sort of self-confidence he is. ]
But, hey. If it can be done? I'll do it. So— Just hang tight. We'll figure this out. Promise.