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week 7 and on
"I can't believe Rhys is so creepy" and other stories
"I can't believe Rhys is so creepy" and other stories
[ rhys feels his stomach twist in guilt at jack's tensing because he didn't mean to cause it -- not right now, of course. his feelings for jack are complicated and weird and the guy tried to kill him. rhys has made... some sort of fragile peace with that fact, sure. it doesn't sting as much as it used to at least -- but he still feels like he should be fragile with jack. careful.
he's so stupid, he knows this.
for now, he goes back to his default. the tension in the room is thick and he feels like there's no way it could result in anything good, so he just looks away from jack and follows after him so he can offer the arm that would make this sleeping situation more comfortable for the both of them. he mutters, just as petulantly as his snide comments when they go do anything else -- ]
I wasn't going to lotion your face. Or make out with you. Fucks sake, Jack.
[ as if he would, ever?? at all?? hell no. (that means he would, of course, but he doesn't quite want to admit it.) in a frustrated huff, rhys runs his free hand through his hair -- with the shower it now falls in a soft, wavy cut on his head and makes him look much sweeter than usual, more genuine. it's a pretty weird contrast.
but he will follow jack into the bunk so they can sleep, trying to keep a... reasonable amount of distance between the two of them as he gives jack his back here. this is definitely not going to be sustainable on the long term but with the tension and jack being jack, rhys doesn't want to risk giving him any more reason to kick him out of bed then he has already. he... really does want to sleep. ]
he's so stupid, he knows this.
for now, he goes back to his default. the tension in the room is thick and he feels like there's no way it could result in anything good, so he just looks away from jack and follows after him so he can offer the arm that would make this sleeping situation more comfortable for the both of them. he mutters, just as petulantly as his snide comments when they go do anything else -- ]
I wasn't going to lotion your face. Or make out with you. Fucks sake, Jack.
[ as if he would, ever?? at all?? hell no. (that means he would, of course, but he doesn't quite want to admit it.) in a frustrated huff, rhys runs his free hand through his hair -- with the shower it now falls in a soft, wavy cut on his head and makes him look much sweeter than usual, more genuine. it's a pretty weird contrast.
but he will follow jack into the bunk so they can sleep, trying to keep a... reasonable amount of distance between the two of them as he gives jack his back here. this is definitely not going to be sustainable on the long term but with the tension and jack being jack, rhys doesn't want to risk giving him any more reason to kick him out of bed then he has already. he... really does want to sleep. ]
[ Jack puts the handcuff back on them, though his sour expression doesn't really lessen much here. He glances up to Rhys as if he's confirming that he's not taking a picture with his eye, but he's satisfied enough considering he heads to the bed without further comment on that. Though predictably, he does end up smiling and chuckling over Rhys's comment, since that's exactly why Jack says the shit he does. Watching people react? Always hilarious.
They both settle in the bed, and Jack absolutely has no objections to the back-to-back arrangement here. At least if nothing else, Rhys can relax himself with regards to Jack being Jack, because it's easy to feel him relaxing. He doesn't quite drift off to sleep, but if nothing else, that tension abates the longer they lay there.
Uncomfortably.
It's probably about an hour or so of just kind of shifting and trying to find a more comfortable configuration here to go to sleep, but. It's actually very quickly apparent to Jack that this isn't going to work. However, he realizes just as quickly what will, and that part is, uh. It's a problem? He has some pride here, or at least, that's what he keeps thinking to himself.
But, eventually, just laying there uncomfortably awake is more annoying than the alternative. Jack shifts so that he's looking back over his shoulder towards Rhys, glancing at him with the good eye. ]
Okay, so. I'm definitely still super awake because this is-- Goddammit, this is not even a little comfortable.
[ He thinks about asking, but in his mind, asking also just makes this worse... So Jack shifts instead and flips over, even if it's a little awkward because of how they're cuffed together. Jack is still stiff and uncomfortable, at least to start, but all things considered, that's probably fair, considering he's just shifted to be the big spoon. There's not even a rude, smartass comment. Jack legitimately has none. He doesn't even want to acknowledge that this just happened. ]
They both settle in the bed, and Jack absolutely has no objections to the back-to-back arrangement here. At least if nothing else, Rhys can relax himself with regards to Jack being Jack, because it's easy to feel him relaxing. He doesn't quite drift off to sleep, but if nothing else, that tension abates the longer they lay there.
Uncomfortably.
It's probably about an hour or so of just kind of shifting and trying to find a more comfortable configuration here to go to sleep, but. It's actually very quickly apparent to Jack that this isn't going to work. However, he realizes just as quickly what will, and that part is, uh. It's a problem? He has some pride here, or at least, that's what he keeps thinking to himself.
But, eventually, just laying there uncomfortably awake is more annoying than the alternative. Jack shifts so that he's looking back over his shoulder towards Rhys, glancing at him with the good eye. ]
Okay, so. I'm definitely still super awake because this is-- Goddammit, this is not even a little comfortable.
[ He thinks about asking, but in his mind, asking also just makes this worse... So Jack shifts instead and flips over, even if it's a little awkward because of how they're cuffed together. Jack is still stiff and uncomfortable, at least to start, but all things considered, that's probably fair, considering he's just shifted to be the big spoon. There's not even a rude, smartass comment. Jack legitimately has none. He doesn't even want to acknowledge that this just happened. ]
ECHO DIARY ENTRY #7: EIGHTEEN WEEKS AFTER THE FALL OF HELIOS
[ 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. ]
[ 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. ]
[ this is the most uncomfortable sleeping situation rhys has ever been involved with and one time he slept in a computer box with vaughn because of a stupid college prank. this? this tops any other experience he's had before and keeping himself from not touching jack is just... well, it's weird. it's so weird. there's no space to not touch jack and yet here they are trying to not make it weird.
rhys has pretty much resigned himself to a sleepless night when jack finally rolls over and looks at him. he turns a little to look back, eyebrows furrowing at whatever decision jack has made before oh. oh. his eyes widen slightly and he doesn't fight it as he finds himself being dragged into being jack's little spoon, instead feeling kind of embarrassed because oh wow, jack's warm. jack's really warm and soft and that's oddly nice. rhys knows not to acknowledge it but he fusses with the cuffs briefly to make it comfortable for the both of them, dropping his head back on the pillows a moment after. ]
... This isn't that bad.
[ maybe? kind of? he's not even sure if it's the right thing to say but after a moment, rhys moves his flesh arm to tug jack's tighter around him and presses back snugly against him. look, if they're going to do this, they should do it right. ]
Look, I'm not going to tell anyone, alright? Not even Fiona. So, like, make yourself comfortable, I guess.
[ don't make it weird don't make it weird don't make it weird. IT'S JUST TWO BROS BEING BROS. ]
rhys has pretty much resigned himself to a sleepless night when jack finally rolls over and looks at him. he turns a little to look back, eyebrows furrowing at whatever decision jack has made before oh. oh. his eyes widen slightly and he doesn't fight it as he finds himself being dragged into being jack's little spoon, instead feeling kind of embarrassed because oh wow, jack's warm. jack's really warm and soft and that's oddly nice. rhys knows not to acknowledge it but he fusses with the cuffs briefly to make it comfortable for the both of them, dropping his head back on the pillows a moment after. ]
... This isn't that bad.
[ maybe? kind of? he's not even sure if it's the right thing to say but after a moment, rhys moves his flesh arm to tug jack's tighter around him and presses back snugly against him. look, if they're going to do this, they should do it right. ]
Look, I'm not going to tell anyone, alright? Not even Fiona. So, like, make yourself comfortable, I guess.
[ don't make it weird don't make it weird don't make it weird. IT'S JUST TWO BROS BEING BROS. ]
[ Well, that's at least one hurdle over with, since he Jack had been halfway worried that this would be... too weird. Which, no, it pretty much is, he's decided. But so long as Rhys doesn't make it weirder, it's not terrible. Probably.
Or, definitely, because even if Jack absolutely prefers to project a certain image, he's much more sentimental and clingy than would be expected. He absolutely prefers sleeping with someone next to him, since it's really a feeling of security that he enjoys. Jack would also never admit to it, because admitting something like that was something he felt was a weakness, and yet. He's halfway annoyed with himself, because when Rhys actually shifts the both of them to be more comfortable, he can't help but relax to some extent. ]
Not bad? Listen- [ Jack still can't actually just accept this without comment, though. When does he ever. ] I am great at-- Uh.
[ That cuts off rather abruptly, since there really isn't a word for this that isn't going to make it overly intimate. It's not cuddling or snuggling, and just like that, Jack realizes he's the one making it weird, so he just ends up sighing out a noise of frustration. ]
Nnnnnevermind, not finishing that sentence. So, yeah, same, not talking about it.
[ But he's still going to get pretty damn comfortable, since Rhys actually mentioned it. The cuff makes it so that he practically has to embrace Rhys here anyways, so he just accepts that, even if it's with some mild reluctance. It's loose, but still a pretty warm half-embrace. Jack definitely gives off the impression without quite saying so that he's a cuddly (re: clingy) person, but he at least settles back down without too much shifting. ]
Or, definitely, because even if Jack absolutely prefers to project a certain image, he's much more sentimental and clingy than would be expected. He absolutely prefers sleeping with someone next to him, since it's really a feeling of security that he enjoys. Jack would also never admit to it, because admitting something like that was something he felt was a weakness, and yet. He's halfway annoyed with himself, because when Rhys actually shifts the both of them to be more comfortable, he can't help but relax to some extent. ]
Not bad? Listen- [ Jack still can't actually just accept this without comment, though. When does he ever. ] I am great at-- Uh.
[ That cuts off rather abruptly, since there really isn't a word for this that isn't going to make it overly intimate. It's not cuddling or snuggling, and just like that, Jack realizes he's the one making it weird, so he just ends up sighing out a noise of frustration. ]
Nnnnnevermind, not finishing that sentence. So, yeah, same, not talking about it.
[ But he's still going to get pretty damn comfortable, since Rhys actually mentioned it. The cuff makes it so that he practically has to embrace Rhys here anyways, so he just accepts that, even if it's with some mild reluctance. It's loose, but still a pretty warm half-embrace. Jack definitely gives off the impression without quite saying so that he's a cuddly (re: clingy) person, but he at least settles back down without too much shifting. ]
[ honestly, the reason rhys thinks jack is making it weird is because he thinks jack doesn't like guys and thinks rhys is gonna like, touch him or something. he also thinks jack must not be a very affectionate person because between all of rhys' offers for hugs and this whole cuddling debacle, jack must just not like people touching him. which, fair, yvette was one of those people and rhys just kept his hugs at a normal distance.
still, he's starting to feel a little bad here. like, maybe jack just needs a tiny bit more reassurance? rhys isn't going to make this a thing just because they cuddled -- he definitely has his weird mixed up feelings for jack (ones that aren't entirely platonic, he knows) but it doesn't mean this is part of it. huh. how's he supposed to make that clear? ]
It's -- it's fine, Jack. I've cuddled with people I've known for way, way less time than you. Sometimes I don't even know their names, hah. So, this isn't a big deal.
[ for rhys, he really thinks that will work. why wouldn't it? it's true and makes everything less important then jack might think it is so of course this will work. rhys doesn't super realize who he's talking to here.
instead he just yawns for now and presses his face into his pillow before tugging jack closer. he'll even move his leg so one of his legs presses in between jacks to make this a prime cuddling session. c'mon, get tangled up with him, jack! ]
still, he's starting to feel a little bad here. like, maybe jack just needs a tiny bit more reassurance? rhys isn't going to make this a thing just because they cuddled -- he definitely has his weird mixed up feelings for jack (ones that aren't entirely platonic, he knows) but it doesn't mean this is part of it. huh. how's he supposed to make that clear? ]
It's -- it's fine, Jack. I've cuddled with people I've known for way, way less time than you. Sometimes I don't even know their names, hah. So, this isn't a big deal.
[ for rhys, he really thinks that will work. why wouldn't it? it's true and makes everything less important then jack might think it is so of course this will work. rhys doesn't super realize who he's talking to here.
instead he just yawns for now and presses his face into his pillow before tugging jack closer. he'll even move his leg so one of his legs presses in between jacks to make this a prime cuddling session. c'mon, get tangled up with him, jack! ]
Wait... Seriously?
[ Jack's tone here is genuinely questioning, and very, very slightly judgemental. That might seem odd, considering all of Jack's pretty legendary and loudly proclaimed sexual exploits, but as it turns out, Rhys doesn't actually have to wonder about that for very long. ]
I mean, I remember everyone I've cuddled with, pumpkin. And, y'know, definitely their names.
[ He doesn't object as Rhys gets into prime cuddling position, but he doesn't quite return it either. However, this is largely because he's not done making his point here, so he shifts to allow it. ]
You do realize that's a- Okay, this is a stupid word for it and kinda harsh on the language, but gets the point across. Fuckboy. Definitely a fuckboy thing.
[ Jack's tone here is genuinely questioning, and very, very slightly judgemental. That might seem odd, considering all of Jack's pretty legendary and loudly proclaimed sexual exploits, but as it turns out, Rhys doesn't actually have to wonder about that for very long. ]
I mean, I remember everyone I've cuddled with, pumpkin. And, y'know, definitely their names.
[ He doesn't object as Rhys gets into prime cuddling position, but he doesn't quite return it either. However, this is largely because he's not done making his point here, so he shifts to allow it. ]
You do realize that's a- Okay, this is a stupid word for it and kinda harsh on the language, but gets the point across. Fuckboy. Definitely a fuckboy thing.
[ okay, you're popping his bubble here, jack. there's a moment there as jack continues that rhys just sort of... tenses up a little before frowning deeply in the dark. let him take a moment to rearrange his world view first and then he can respond.
how... many people has jack dated? doesn't he like, sleep around? isn't he a super mega awesome hot dad? this can't be true at all... is it? shit.
and then there's -- well, that term. this is not the first time someone has called rhys a fuckboy but fucking stacey threw it in his face when she broke up with him and look. he, like, he isn't the best? at relationships? but what the fuck.
so, rhys is definitely shifting to turn over somehow and look at jack with a really annoyed expression now. it's unnecessarily complicated with these handcuffs and probably just drags them closer together. ]
I'm not -- I, what? What. I'm not a fuckboy, that's just -- fuck off. That's not a thing I am. And, and, you know? Even if I was? Who the hell are you to judge? You don't know anything about my sex life -- my personal life. Some people just, you know, they do relationships differently, right? And maybe I just don't want someone in my space all the time. That's a perfectly rational feeling and -- whatever. Fuck you. I was just trying to make you feel better because you're so sensitive.
[ you sure hurt the boy's feelings with one damn word, jack. let the fuckboy be a fuckboy!! ]
how... many people has jack dated? doesn't he like, sleep around? isn't he a super mega awesome hot dad? this can't be true at all... is it? shit.
and then there's -- well, that term. this is not the first time someone has called rhys a fuckboy but fucking stacey threw it in his face when she broke up with him and look. he, like, he isn't the best? at relationships? but what the fuck.
so, rhys is definitely shifting to turn over somehow and look at jack with a really annoyed expression now. it's unnecessarily complicated with these handcuffs and probably just drags them closer together. ]
I'm not -- I, what? What. I'm not a fuckboy, that's just -- fuck off. That's not a thing I am. And, and, you know? Even if I was? Who the hell are you to judge? You don't know anything about my sex life -- my personal life. Some people just, you know, they do relationships differently, right? And maybe I just don't want someone in my space all the time. That's a perfectly rational feeling and -- whatever. Fuck you. I was just trying to make you feel better because you're so sensitive.
[ you sure hurt the boy's feelings with one damn word, jack. let the fuckboy be a fuckboy!! ]
[ Jack is used to insulting people. That is obvious, and is in fact a normal part of working at Hyperion. However, it's much rarer when people actually take offense to what he says, especially when it's more of an off-handed comment over something actually barbed. This may be because they're afraid of Jack killing them (which, to be fair, is a very real possibility), but in any case, Jack's brow knits together when Rhys flips over in an expression of confusion, and it only deepens as Rhys explains. ]
Woah, woah, calm your tits, princess... Jesus. Defensive, much?
[ Yet even with Jack speaking the way he does, his tone is actually the sort that's probably meant to be genuinely calming? It's hard to tell with Jack sometimes. ]
Look it was just- an observation? I dunno. Cripes. I just- [ Wait. He belatedly catches onto part of this, and his expression twists up. ]
I am not sensitive, kiddo. Do I need to make a laundry list of terrible shit that I did last we-- Okay, maybe not last week. This place is stupid boring. You get my point here.
Woah, woah, calm your tits, princess... Jesus. Defensive, much?
[ Yet even with Jack speaking the way he does, his tone is actually the sort that's probably meant to be genuinely calming? It's hard to tell with Jack sometimes. ]
Look it was just- an observation? I dunno. Cripes. I just- [ Wait. He belatedly catches onto part of this, and his expression twists up. ]
I am not sensitive, kiddo. Do I need to make a laundry list of terrible shit that I did last we-- Okay, maybe not last week. This place is stupid boring. You get my point here.
[ okay. yes. maybe he did get a little defensive here which... isn't what he planned but come on? he hates being called that. it reminds him of college and bitchy exes who act like he owed them something.
he shifts a little in his petulance, trying to cross his arms over his chest as he faces jack, a small space left between them for their arms. he's ready to argue here, okay? even if everything was going so well a moment ago.
though, it definitely gets gay for a second because he feels his knees brush against jack's under the blanket and that's weird and this is weird and he is trying to forget how weird it is. ]
Not... without reason, but whatever.
[ he hates!! the word!! and now he's ready to get bitchy some more. ]
Okay but, like, killing people doesn't mean you're not sensitive? You can be a murderer and have feelings too. It's not weird, Jack. You know that, right?
[ wait, that came out way more sympathetic and nice than bitchy and annoyed. shit, shit, shit. he fucked up. ]
he shifts a little in his petulance, trying to cross his arms over his chest as he faces jack, a small space left between them for their arms. he's ready to argue here, okay? even if everything was going so well a moment ago.
though, it definitely gets gay for a second because he feels his knees brush against jack's under the blanket and that's weird and this is weird and he is trying to forget how weird it is. ]
Not... without reason, but whatever.
[ he hates!! the word!! and now he's ready to get bitchy some more. ]
Okay but, like, killing people doesn't mean you're not sensitive? You can be a murderer and have feelings too. It's not weird, Jack. You know that, right?
[ wait, that came out way more sympathetic and nice than bitchy and annoyed. shit, shit, shit. he fucked up. ]
ECHO DIARY ENTRY #8: TWENTY-FOUR WEEKS AFTER THE FALL OF HELIOS
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? ]
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? ]
[ The confusion at least leaves Jack's face for the most part. Of course, some still remains, since Jack is reminded of their proximity when Rhys brushes against his legs, for one, but it lingers because of what Rhys actually says. It doesn't look like Jack really agrees, but it's hard to tell what he's thinking, considering how a silence lingers a bit longer than it tends to with Jack. But after he seems to come to his answer here, his expression smooths out, though it's serious.
That might be worrying, since that's never quite a good thing to see from Jack, but his answer is... surprisingly honest. ]
...No, you can't, kiddo. It ruins the image.
[ He pauses again, almost like he's considering leaving it at that, but he ends up elaborating just a little more. ]
Let me tell you something here: to do what I do, you've gotta be untouchable. No one can see you so much as sweat. Show one piece of weakness, and someone-- Someone's gonna take advantage of that.
[ Jack seems to be choosing his words very carefully here, and there's definitely that kind of intensity again where he's clearly measuring Rhys's reactions. It's easy to read by now, though. This is how he always is when he feels that he's opening up in some way. ]
So I'm Handsome Jack, not just Jack or-- John. I've got the mask, 'cause no one can see the fact that someone made me bleed. That's- Y'know, that's what being at the top means, Rhys. There's people waiting to knock you down. If I'm sensitive or if I feel anything? I better not show it. It's ammunition. Plain and simple.
[ But for the last part, it's when Jack's gaze is the most intense. It's where it borders on being uncomfortable, since it's the sort of tension where it's hard to tell whether Jack is a hair away from murder, or if it's just how he expresses his seriousness in every situation. ]
And hope you understand. I'm trusting you with that.
That might be worrying, since that's never quite a good thing to see from Jack, but his answer is... surprisingly honest. ]
...No, you can't, kiddo. It ruins the image.
[ He pauses again, almost like he's considering leaving it at that, but he ends up elaborating just a little more. ]
Let me tell you something here: to do what I do, you've gotta be untouchable. No one can see you so much as sweat. Show one piece of weakness, and someone-- Someone's gonna take advantage of that.
[ Jack seems to be choosing his words very carefully here, and there's definitely that kind of intensity again where he's clearly measuring Rhys's reactions. It's easy to read by now, though. This is how he always is when he feels that he's opening up in some way. ]
So I'm Handsome Jack, not just Jack or-- John. I've got the mask, 'cause no one can see the fact that someone made me bleed. That's- Y'know, that's what being at the top means, Rhys. There's people waiting to knock you down. If I'm sensitive or if I feel anything? I better not show it. It's ammunition. Plain and simple.
[ But for the last part, it's when Jack's gaze is the most intense. It's where it borders on being uncomfortable, since it's the sort of tension where it's hard to tell whether Jack is a hair away from murder, or if it's just how he expresses his seriousness in every situation. ]
And hope you understand. I'm trusting you with that.
[ for a moment, rhys thinks he made a mistake. it was just something that came out of him, without really thinking. he sort of... forgets, which is pretty obvious by now, that jack isn't just a morally dubious dude but actually one of the worst human beings in a century. it makes him slip and say things like "you can kill people and still have feelings" which... he will admit, is his own over-identifying of the situation.
he's killed people. he feels things.
right now, he feels a slight fear run up his spine at the thought he may have made a mistake here -- but also a curiosity, a genuine feeling of affection for jack. he wonders how much work it must take to put on such an image, wonders how much of what rhys knows about him is the image and how much isn't. it... makes rhys feel ill for a moment, like all this time he'd been pursuing a closeness with handsome jack instead of ... jack. or john.
... was he? was he really so shallow? ]
You can trust me.
[ his instincts are there, screaming at him with each word, telling him to go back, to leave this bed and try his very best to put more distance between jack and him. this isn't keeping jack happy so he doesn't kill rhys anymore, this is rhys wanting to make up for what happened -- this is rhys wanting to rewrite history. maybe here he could have jack like he wanted to so badly at home? maybe here, helios won't have to happen again? ]
And I'm sorry too. I guess I never really thought about all the effort you put into what you put out there? It always just seemed so you -- like there was nothing else but what you wanted everyone to see and I don't know. [ he shrugs a little helplessly, looking down towards their hands with a slight frown. ] I guess I thought that was pretty cool.
[ then he's silent for a moment, as if that's all he's got to say to jack here -- that he was shallow and saw nothing else but, after a moment, he shakes his head and does something pretty weird. he... smiles at jack, a small one, genuine and soft as he looks at jack. the room is dark, just barely enough light from rhys' eye and the ship outside of the room to show the reflection of each other's faces. rhys' hair falls in his face and over the pillow but he doesn't bother to brush it out, to push it back, instead he just enjoys the warmth radiating off of jack as he speaks again. ]
... But I think I like this Jack better? I know the logic, Jack. I'm not a dumbass. You have things you want to protect, to keep safe from ... everything else, so why would you let the world know who else you are under the mask? Uh, both literally and figuratively. People suck, the whole universe sucks. There's only like, a few people out there who are decent at all so... why does everyone else get to see you? Fuck that. But -- but this Jack -- the one I've met over the past few weeks, the one I'm laying here with right now? He's way cooler, I think, and I wouldn't mind getting to know him more.
[ and then he turns sheepish for a moment. ]
I mean, uh, if that's okay with you and all.
he's killed people. he feels things.
right now, he feels a slight fear run up his spine at the thought he may have made a mistake here -- but also a curiosity, a genuine feeling of affection for jack. he wonders how much work it must take to put on such an image, wonders how much of what rhys knows about him is the image and how much isn't. it... makes rhys feel ill for a moment, like all this time he'd been pursuing a closeness with handsome jack instead of ... jack. or john.
... was he? was he really so shallow? ]
You can trust me.
[ his instincts are there, screaming at him with each word, telling him to go back, to leave this bed and try his very best to put more distance between jack and him. this isn't keeping jack happy so he doesn't kill rhys anymore, this is rhys wanting to make up for what happened -- this is rhys wanting to rewrite history. maybe here he could have jack like he wanted to so badly at home? maybe here, helios won't have to happen again? ]
And I'm sorry too. I guess I never really thought about all the effort you put into what you put out there? It always just seemed so you -- like there was nothing else but what you wanted everyone to see and I don't know. [ he shrugs a little helplessly, looking down towards their hands with a slight frown. ] I guess I thought that was pretty cool.
[ then he's silent for a moment, as if that's all he's got to say to jack here -- that he was shallow and saw nothing else but, after a moment, he shakes his head and does something pretty weird. he... smiles at jack, a small one, genuine and soft as he looks at jack. the room is dark, just barely enough light from rhys' eye and the ship outside of the room to show the reflection of each other's faces. rhys' hair falls in his face and over the pillow but he doesn't bother to brush it out, to push it back, instead he just enjoys the warmth radiating off of jack as he speaks again. ]
... But I think I like this Jack better? I know the logic, Jack. I'm not a dumbass. You have things you want to protect, to keep safe from ... everything else, so why would you let the world know who else you are under the mask? Uh, both literally and figuratively. People suck, the whole universe sucks. There's only like, a few people out there who are decent at all so... why does everyone else get to see you? Fuck that. But -- but this Jack -- the one I've met over the past few weeks, the one I'm laying here with right now? He's way cooler, I think, and I wouldn't mind getting to know him more.
[ and then he turns sheepish for a moment. ]
I mean, uh, if that's okay with you and all.
...Well, that is kinda the point.
[ Jack interjects in that brief silence with that much, since he can guess some of Rhys's thoughts here. That's not exactly something new, but it hasn't been common. After Elpis, Jack had closed himself off in a way that he didn't always like. Part of it was intentional, because it's exactly what he's talking about here, but there was just as much that wasn't. It's the way he gets wrapped up in his grand plan for the universe and how he sees a dagger in every hand waiting for his back as a result. So, really, only a few people had ever managed to see beyond Jack's mask, both physical and metaphorical.
He looked doubtful when Rhys asserted that Jack could trust him, as Rhys explains, that expression softens. Jack doesn't give his trust easily, and that's something that Rhys know better than Jack thinks, but it's almost a physical thing as he gives at least a small piece of it.
That's the thing about Jack, though. There aren't many people that can avoid getting wrapped up in Jack. He has a naturally magnetic personality, and it's what elevated him to the sort of cult-like devotion that was so unique to Hyperion, but even individually, when he's laying here having a moment of openness with another person, it's the same sort of thing. Jack isn't a liar, because every word he says is a truth or something he believes so strongly that it might as well be. He's genuine in a frightening way, because it's so easy to forget that there's so much of Jack that's completely divorced from other parts of him.
So that trust doesn't mean that Rhys is safe. In fact, it's so much more dangerous, and that's why every person that's seen beyond that mask has ended up dead. ]
You-- [ Jack starts to respond once Rhys has said his piece, but it comes with a laugh. ] I mean, to be honest here, you keep surprisin' me, Rhys.
[ Jack pauses, then shifts slightly closer. Usually he'd probably be at least a little more smooth here, but the handcuff and their proximity makes that less than elegant. The hand that's uncuffed at least comes up to Rhys's neck, but that's to help angle both of their heads here. As such, Rhys can probably guess what's coming next here and pull back if he wants, but really, Jack doesn't think that'll be the case, considering Rhys...
He kisses Rhys, and it's both brief and tender rather than the sort of aggressive that might seem to suit Jack better. After all, what Rhys says is bolstering and supporting Jack in ways that he might not have expected to, but also in those ways that aren't exactly good. But it's absolutely what Jack craves and appreciates, and at least for the moment, he thinks that something physical is a better way to convey that than through words.
After all, as he pulls back again, he proves that he's not actually smooth or a wordsmith. ]
Yeah, it's obviously okay with me, dumbass.
[ Jack interjects in that brief silence with that much, since he can guess some of Rhys's thoughts here. That's not exactly something new, but it hasn't been common. After Elpis, Jack had closed himself off in a way that he didn't always like. Part of it was intentional, because it's exactly what he's talking about here, but there was just as much that wasn't. It's the way he gets wrapped up in his grand plan for the universe and how he sees a dagger in every hand waiting for his back as a result. So, really, only a few people had ever managed to see beyond Jack's mask, both physical and metaphorical.
He looked doubtful when Rhys asserted that Jack could trust him, as Rhys explains, that expression softens. Jack doesn't give his trust easily, and that's something that Rhys know better than Jack thinks, but it's almost a physical thing as he gives at least a small piece of it.
That's the thing about Jack, though. There aren't many people that can avoid getting wrapped up in Jack. He has a naturally magnetic personality, and it's what elevated him to the sort of cult-like devotion that was so unique to Hyperion, but even individually, when he's laying here having a moment of openness with another person, it's the same sort of thing. Jack isn't a liar, because every word he says is a truth or something he believes so strongly that it might as well be. He's genuine in a frightening way, because it's so easy to forget that there's so much of Jack that's completely divorced from other parts of him.
So that trust doesn't mean that Rhys is safe. In fact, it's so much more dangerous, and that's why every person that's seen beyond that mask has ended up dead. ]
You-- [ Jack starts to respond once Rhys has said his piece, but it comes with a laugh. ] I mean, to be honest here, you keep surprisin' me, Rhys.
[ Jack pauses, then shifts slightly closer. Usually he'd probably be at least a little more smooth here, but the handcuff and their proximity makes that less than elegant. The hand that's uncuffed at least comes up to Rhys's neck, but that's to help angle both of their heads here. As such, Rhys can probably guess what's coming next here and pull back if he wants, but really, Jack doesn't think that'll be the case, considering Rhys...
He kisses Rhys, and it's both brief and tender rather than the sort of aggressive that might seem to suit Jack better. After all, what Rhys says is bolstering and supporting Jack in ways that he might not have expected to, but also in those ways that aren't exactly good. But it's absolutely what Jack craves and appreciates, and at least for the moment, he thinks that something physical is a better way to convey that than through words.
After all, as he pulls back again, he proves that he's not actually smooth or a wordsmith. ]
Yeah, it's obviously okay with me, dumbass.
[ Jack has to give the kid credit. He's not bad with security stuff at all. Now, granted, not as good as him, but, hey, it actually took him some time to crack the encryption on the drive. Jack is actually feeling pretty pleased with himself, all things considered, because for having the shittiest fucking tech he's had to deal with since he was-- Well, since he was a kid, honestly, he's done pretty goddamn well. He's spent the time looking through some of the files, since he's the kind of person that's going to look for nice, factual information over "garbage emo shit," as he'd noted the folder's name. So, in that, Jack learns two important things.
One, Helios was no more.
Even before Jack gets to those videos, he's able to figure that much out. At first, he denies it as he reads, because it sounds ridiculous. Impossible. Helios was more than even Jack, because he had watched it be built. Hell, he had helped build it. Helios was where he worked, but it was also the closest thing he had to home. His lifeblood was in that stupid space station, and to know it's just gone is like hearing that someone he cared about had died. He feels grief over that, even though he knows it's stupid, but it's not just that loss. It was also his chance, he thought. He wanted Rhys to go to Helios so badly because he knew there was something there. He couldn't remember what, and that was still true, but he knew there was some way to escape what he had become here. So, whatever he was now, that was what he would be. That's one revelation that sinks in heavily.
And, two, much more upsettingly, which he finds frustrating-- The extent of Rhys's lie.
Helios and Hyperion were a part of it, of course. He can't help but feel angry over that lie, because of anyone, someone that worked for him should know that Hyperion was his life. He still wasn't sure if that was something he necessarily enjoyed, but it was what it was. It was a means to make his dream reality, and as such, there's a sting in Rhys not relaying that information. However, it's inconsequential in the face of the rest. He doesn't even get the full extent just looking at the colder, less emotional files, but as soon as he starts to stumble across everything about Atlas, he understands. Or at least, he feels he does. His expression grows more grave as he reads about all of Atlas's files, the prototypes, the business, everything he can take away from what he sees before him. But finally, it's stumbling across paperwork confirming what Jack is reading in between the lines here that gets him to snap.
It's his deed. It's not that Rhys had managed to find success on his own, to take a dead company and reshape it in his image, which is something Jack would admire. He's a thief. He had stolen that deed from him, and anger and hurt burn hot enough in Jack's chest that the glass of booze that he'd settled down with while he read gets thrown at the wall with enough force to truly destroy it. Jack stands from his desk to stalk around his room instead, since there's too much of that dangerous anger for him to do anything else. ]
Fucking piece of shit—
[ He's angry at Rhys, but he's angrier at himself. He knew. He knew, because when has it ever been any goddamn different? He wonders what it is about him that makes people want to betray him, because every single time he decides to trust someone just a little bit? It gets tossed back in his face. ]
Every goddamn time!
[ The vicious anger that comes every time with betrayal means that he can't continue this now. He makes shouts out a sound of frustration, but after that, he leaves his room, since he decides he can't stay here. He's not sure what he'll do, but he just has to do something else. Looking in the face of someone else in his life screwing him over isn't something he can continue with right now.
As always, Jack is too blind here to look at himself as the common factor. ]
One, Helios was no more.
Even before Jack gets to those videos, he's able to figure that much out. At first, he denies it as he reads, because it sounds ridiculous. Impossible. Helios was more than even Jack, because he had watched it be built. Hell, he had helped build it. Helios was where he worked, but it was also the closest thing he had to home. His lifeblood was in that stupid space station, and to know it's just gone is like hearing that someone he cared about had died. He feels grief over that, even though he knows it's stupid, but it's not just that loss. It was also his chance, he thought. He wanted Rhys to go to Helios so badly because he knew there was something there. He couldn't remember what, and that was still true, but he knew there was some way to escape what he had become here. So, whatever he was now, that was what he would be. That's one revelation that sinks in heavily.
And, two, much more upsettingly, which he finds frustrating-- The extent of Rhys's lie.
Helios and Hyperion were a part of it, of course. He can't help but feel angry over that lie, because of anyone, someone that worked for him should know that Hyperion was his life. He still wasn't sure if that was something he necessarily enjoyed, but it was what it was. It was a means to make his dream reality, and as such, there's a sting in Rhys not relaying that information. However, it's inconsequential in the face of the rest. He doesn't even get the full extent just looking at the colder, less emotional files, but as soon as he starts to stumble across everything about Atlas, he understands. Or at least, he feels he does. His expression grows more grave as he reads about all of Atlas's files, the prototypes, the business, everything he can take away from what he sees before him. But finally, it's stumbling across paperwork confirming what Jack is reading in between the lines here that gets him to snap.
It's his deed. It's not that Rhys had managed to find success on his own, to take a dead company and reshape it in his image, which is something Jack would admire. He's a thief. He had stolen that deed from him, and anger and hurt burn hot enough in Jack's chest that the glass of booze that he'd settled down with while he read gets thrown at the wall with enough force to truly destroy it. Jack stands from his desk to stalk around his room instead, since there's too much of that dangerous anger for him to do anything else. ]
Fucking piece of shit—
[ He's angry at Rhys, but he's angrier at himself. He knew. He knew, because when has it ever been any goddamn different? He wonders what it is about him that makes people want to betray him, because every single time he decides to trust someone just a little bit? It gets tossed back in his face. ]
Every goddamn time!
[ The vicious anger that comes every time with betrayal means that he can't continue this now. He makes shouts out a sound of frustration, but after that, he leaves his room, since he decides he can't stay here. He's not sure what he'll do, but he just has to do something else. Looking in the face of someone else in his life screwing him over isn't something he can continue with right now.
As always, Jack is too blind here to look at himself as the common factor. ]
Edited (spellin + ok look i can't type for shit apparently) 2016-08-10 16:57 (UTC)
[ It takes several days before Jack can stomach looking into the hard drive again.
Every time he looks at it, all of that rage just bubbles up again, but at least the extent of it lessens each time. So after yet another trial about someone he doesn't give a shit about, looking at it doesn't inspire him to toss it in the nearest microwave. He figures that's about as good as he'll get. Another glass is poured, and he hopes that he'll be able to make it through more without throwing it at the wall. Which, thank god for the mystery cleaning crew. It would have made him even angrier to have to clean up his own mess in this case.
He starts looking over more business files, but he feels that anger bubbling up again. For each measure of Rhys's new success, Jack can only feel that it's made by screwing him over. But he has to make it through all this shit, and as a result, he decides to go looking into some of those more personal files. There's no real, logical reason for it. He just thinks that he might be able to find something to laugh at to make himself feel better here. So "fucking garbage emo shit" seems to be as good a place to start as any. ]
You look like shit, pumpkin.
[ Jack laughs, since the way Rhys looks here genuinely cheers him up, since he's both bitter and a terrible person. Seeing just how injured Rhys looks absolutely fills Jack with the sort of sadistic glee that he's infamous for, because really? He's actually sad that he hadn't caused it himself. In fact, it's easy to see how the corners of Jack's eyes turn up with genuine pleasure once Rhys states that Jack had tried to kill him.
But, to even his surprise, it's short-lived.
When Rhys continues speaking, Jack's expression of pleasure fades away bit by bit until it settles into something colder, but also uncertain. It's not what Jack had been expecting to hear, and that's clear. He's surprisingly quiet as he watches and listens to Rhys as he breaks down, and once the video is finished, Jack sits there in silence for several moments. He brings his glass up to his lips and takes a large swig, almost emptying it. He breathes out a harsh breath that comes after that distinct burn of taking too large a drink of something strong. ]
Just—
[ Jack starts to speak, but his voice is rough. It could be from the liquor, considering he coughs right after, but it's hard to tell. ]
The hell is that supposed to mean? I- You goddamn piece of shit. You...
[ He trails off, then unplugs the harddrive from his datapad roughly. jack stands from his desk and picks his glass up again to finish it off, but he's quick to start pouring another. ]
Talking about faith and betrayal? Jesus. What- What a friggin' load of skagcrap. That dick doesn't even know the meaning of either goddamn one! Fuck!
[ He corks the bottle again angrily, but he ends up taking his new glass to the bathroom with him as he goes to shower.
It seems like he can only make it through one tonight. ]
Every time he looks at it, all of that rage just bubbles up again, but at least the extent of it lessens each time. So after yet another trial about someone he doesn't give a shit about, looking at it doesn't inspire him to toss it in the nearest microwave. He figures that's about as good as he'll get. Another glass is poured, and he hopes that he'll be able to make it through more without throwing it at the wall. Which, thank god for the mystery cleaning crew. It would have made him even angrier to have to clean up his own mess in this case.
He starts looking over more business files, but he feels that anger bubbling up again. For each measure of Rhys's new success, Jack can only feel that it's made by screwing him over. But he has to make it through all this shit, and as a result, he decides to go looking into some of those more personal files. There's no real, logical reason for it. He just thinks that he might be able to find something to laugh at to make himself feel better here. So "fucking garbage emo shit" seems to be as good a place to start as any. ]
You look like shit, pumpkin.
[ Jack laughs, since the way Rhys looks here genuinely cheers him up, since he's both bitter and a terrible person. Seeing just how injured Rhys looks absolutely fills Jack with the sort of sadistic glee that he's infamous for, because really? He's actually sad that he hadn't caused it himself. In fact, it's easy to see how the corners of Jack's eyes turn up with genuine pleasure once Rhys states that Jack had tried to kill him.
But, to even his surprise, it's short-lived.
When Rhys continues speaking, Jack's expression of pleasure fades away bit by bit until it settles into something colder, but also uncertain. It's not what Jack had been expecting to hear, and that's clear. He's surprisingly quiet as he watches and listens to Rhys as he breaks down, and once the video is finished, Jack sits there in silence for several moments. He brings his glass up to his lips and takes a large swig, almost emptying it. He breathes out a harsh breath that comes after that distinct burn of taking too large a drink of something strong. ]
Just—
[ Jack starts to speak, but his voice is rough. It could be from the liquor, considering he coughs right after, but it's hard to tell. ]
The hell is that supposed to mean? I- You goddamn piece of shit. You...
[ He trails off, then unplugs the harddrive from his datapad roughly. jack stands from his desk and picks his glass up again to finish it off, but he's quick to start pouring another. ]
Talking about faith and betrayal? Jesus. What- What a friggin' load of skagcrap. That dick doesn't even know the meaning of either goddamn one! Fuck!
[ He corks the bottle again angrily, but he ends up taking his new glass to the bathroom with him as he goes to shower.
It seems like he can only make it through one tonight. ]
[ this isn't the first time rhys has thought about kissing jack. he never really left himself indulge for more than a moment though because handsome jack was still more of an icon, a hero, than an actual human being. now though, things are a little different. when jack was in his head, he was kicked off his pedestal. when jack is at his side, he's brought to rhys' level.
on some level, rhys is aware of how bad this is, of how quickly it can turn into something that he can't handle -- that's how it always works with jack, right? every story from every person who got even a smidgen close to him. that's why no one really survives jack, not really. rhys though, he's naive and he wants so desperately to believe the lie that when jack moves in to kiss him, he doesn't back off.
his hands curl in jack's shirt, pressing in close to meet his mouth and feeling an odd but satisfying sensation as he feels the brush of the scar against his skin. it's still so cool, being this close to jack and this ... accepted? wanted? by him. rhys feels so jubilant in this moment, more than he's felt since jack smiled at him in his office and told him he was proud of him. this is better, this is a physical thing along with an emotional. it makes rhys feel whole.
when they break apart, rhys lets out a kind of breathy laugh, forehead pressed against jack's and not trying to move away this time. he grins, meeting jack's gaze in response and tries to squash the urge to kiss him again. not... yet, not now, but soon. ]
Nnnnot quite how I expected the night to go, gotta say. Thought you didn't want to make it that gay?
[ he curls closer, taking up more that little amount of space between them. his ankle slides against jack's and he lets out a pleased sigh, feeling... oddly relaxed now. he's accepted it, accepted how bad this is just how much he still wants it. it's fine, he thinks. it's completely fine. ]
Glad you -- [ he pauses, interrupting himself with a yawn and his eyes fall shut for a moment ] Glad you did though. I really like you -- different than the whole admiration thing. Just, y'know, you yourself. I really like that part of you and m'glad you finally believe me. I'll keep, [ another yawn here ] proving it if I have to, Jack.
[ it's said in a sleepy, content tone -- voice a soft mumble because in this moment, rhys is completely happy. surrounded by jack like this and given his affection, rhys doesn't want to be anywhere else in the universe. ]
on some level, rhys is aware of how bad this is, of how quickly it can turn into something that he can't handle -- that's how it always works with jack, right? every story from every person who got even a smidgen close to him. that's why no one really survives jack, not really. rhys though, he's naive and he wants so desperately to believe the lie that when jack moves in to kiss him, he doesn't back off.
his hands curl in jack's shirt, pressing in close to meet his mouth and feeling an odd but satisfying sensation as he feels the brush of the scar against his skin. it's still so cool, being this close to jack and this ... accepted? wanted? by him. rhys feels so jubilant in this moment, more than he's felt since jack smiled at him in his office and told him he was proud of him. this is better, this is a physical thing along with an emotional. it makes rhys feel whole.
when they break apart, rhys lets out a kind of breathy laugh, forehead pressed against jack's and not trying to move away this time. he grins, meeting jack's gaze in response and tries to squash the urge to kiss him again. not... yet, not now, but soon. ]
Nnnnot quite how I expected the night to go, gotta say. Thought you didn't want to make it that gay?
[ he curls closer, taking up more that little amount of space between them. his ankle slides against jack's and he lets out a pleased sigh, feeling... oddly relaxed now. he's accepted it, accepted how bad this is just how much he still wants it. it's fine, he thinks. it's completely fine. ]
Glad you -- [ he pauses, interrupting himself with a yawn and his eyes fall shut for a moment ] Glad you did though. I really like you -- different than the whole admiration thing. Just, y'know, you yourself. I really like that part of you and m'glad you finally believe me. I'll keep, [ another yawn here ] proving it if I have to, Jack.
[ it's said in a sleepy, content tone -- voice a soft mumble because in this moment, rhys is completely happy. surrounded by jack like this and given his affection, rhys doesn't want to be anywhere else in the universe. ]
Ha ha hah. [ That is absolutely a forced, sarcastic, and flat laugh. ] Least I'll remember your name, dickhead.
[ He gets a little defensive, but not nearly as bad as it could be. Considering he's the one that initiated that part, he can't really deny that it's pretty gay, but he also doesn't actually care too much about that part. Or at least, not as much as he was conveying, since that too is a way for him to keep a bit of distance. Jack keeps very nearly everyone at arm's length, since he has problems trusting people enough for any kind of intimacy. Even now, it's not completely there, not even close, but—
Jack shifts all the same to hold Rhys comfortably in his-- Well, ideally, this would be in his arms, but the cuff makes it a little more awkward. Still. It's close, even intimate, and he doesn't mind that at all. He absolutely prefers the comfort of having someone else sleep next to him, though he'd also never ask for it. And considering the sort of task he's been given here? It's more comforting than he would have expected to feel able to extend even this small bit of trust. It's physical, and even that much is no small matter for Jack.
Though for how he feels, that's something else entirely. Because even now, as he shifts and settles down, he's not sure what that is. It's appreciation for Rhys's admiration and loyalty, but the part Jack isn't aware enough of himself to recognize is that that trust comes more from the fact that Rhys is bolstering his ego and his beliefs. Jack's definitions of trust and betrayal are both very different from everyone else's, since both exist in a very black and white context. Agree with Jack, and he trusts you. Disagree with Jack, and you're a traitor. Both are far simpler than they seem, but that simplicity is part of what made Jack the monster he is.
Unfortunately, that's a harsh truth about Jack that Rhys will rediscover.
But for now, Jack doesn't think on what he feels here. Maybe it's just too late to think on it, which is what he decides on when he catches an infectious yawn. He finally relaxes too and gets them tangled further together to fall asleep. Considering the kiss, there's no need to hide that he's clingy, as if that's a surprise... ]
But, c'mon. Didn't even realize how goddamn little I've been sleeping lately.
[ More than Rhys knows and understands, but he's genuinely too tired to have his paranoia flare up. This is a good thing, since that would absolutely get him to back off. Without it, Jack just closes his eyes, just barely keeping the contact between their foreheads. It's super gay. ]
[ But not as bad as the fact that at some point in the night, they will absolutely end up spooning again and Jack will kiss his neck and mutter something about Nisha sucking his dick. That's canon now. Jack will not remember this, in fact. ]
[ He gets a little defensive, but not nearly as bad as it could be. Considering he's the one that initiated that part, he can't really deny that it's pretty gay, but he also doesn't actually care too much about that part. Or at least, not as much as he was conveying, since that too is a way for him to keep a bit of distance. Jack keeps very nearly everyone at arm's length, since he has problems trusting people enough for any kind of intimacy. Even now, it's not completely there, not even close, but—
Jack shifts all the same to hold Rhys comfortably in his-- Well, ideally, this would be in his arms, but the cuff makes it a little more awkward. Still. It's close, even intimate, and he doesn't mind that at all. He absolutely prefers the comfort of having someone else sleep next to him, though he'd also never ask for it. And considering the sort of task he's been given here? It's more comforting than he would have expected to feel able to extend even this small bit of trust. It's physical, and even that much is no small matter for Jack.
Though for how he feels, that's something else entirely. Because even now, as he shifts and settles down, he's not sure what that is. It's appreciation for Rhys's admiration and loyalty, but the part Jack isn't aware enough of himself to recognize is that that trust comes more from the fact that Rhys is bolstering his ego and his beliefs. Jack's definitions of trust and betrayal are both very different from everyone else's, since both exist in a very black and white context. Agree with Jack, and he trusts you. Disagree with Jack, and you're a traitor. Both are far simpler than they seem, but that simplicity is part of what made Jack the monster he is.
Unfortunately, that's a harsh truth about Jack that Rhys will rediscover.
But for now, Jack doesn't think on what he feels here. Maybe it's just too late to think on it, which is what he decides on when he catches an infectious yawn. He finally relaxes too and gets them tangled further together to fall asleep. Considering the kiss, there's no need to hide that he's clingy, as if that's a surprise... ]
But, c'mon. Didn't even realize how goddamn little I've been sleeping lately.
[ More than Rhys knows and understands, but he's genuinely too tired to have his paranoia flare up. This is a good thing, since that would absolutely get him to back off. Without it, Jack just closes his eyes, just barely keeping the contact between their foreheads. It's super gay. ]
[ But not as bad as the fact that at some point in the night, they will absolutely end up spooning again and Jack will kiss his neck and mutter something about Nisha sucking his dick. That's canon now. Jack will not remember this, in fact. ]
[ These are going to take a while to get through if he can only watch one a day. He knows that, and he knows it's stupid, since who cares. The guy is dead, and Jack killed him! That should be more than enough for this to not mean shit, and yet it manages to piss him off all the same. It's almost like a ritual now, as if the third time is the charm, so there's another glass of liquor and another set of data to dig through.
And this video is much easier for him to parse through.
It's mundane, almost boring, and if not for the fact that Jack is a thorough guy, he would probably skip this one. He listens to Rhys talk about his parents, about Eden-5, and Jack doesn't feel much of anything beyond a "oh, that's where the kid is from," since there's no source of connection in the rest. The way Rhys talks about his family and his home planet is an experience is so far removed from Jack's life that there's simply not anything for him to think on. ]
There we go. [ Jack speaks up once Rhys starts to correct himself and get back on track, though his eyes do narrow when Rhys says he has to talk about Jack. He's expecting something more like the first video, and it's clear that Jack is almost waiting to get angry in that long silence. He watches Rhys on the screen like he'd like nothing more than to reach through it and strangle him.
But when that confession comes, it's different from what Jack expects.
The anger fades away to something neutral, and Jack taps his fingers against his glass thoughtfully. Like Rhys's in the video, his silence lingers for a while while he looks to the hard drive with a hard to read expression. Finally, Jack shakes his head. He sits forward to reach to his datapad and pull up the next video, but as he does, Jack at least has one simple comment. ]
Yeah, kiddo. It is.
And this video is much easier for him to parse through.
It's mundane, almost boring, and if not for the fact that Jack is a thorough guy, he would probably skip this one. He listens to Rhys talk about his parents, about Eden-5, and Jack doesn't feel much of anything beyond a "oh, that's where the kid is from," since there's no source of connection in the rest. The way Rhys talks about his family and his home planet is an experience is so far removed from Jack's life that there's simply not anything for him to think on. ]
There we go. [ Jack speaks up once Rhys starts to correct himself and get back on track, though his eyes do narrow when Rhys says he has to talk about Jack. He's expecting something more like the first video, and it's clear that Jack is almost waiting to get angry in that long silence. He watches Rhys on the screen like he'd like nothing more than to reach through it and strangle him.
But when that confession comes, it's different from what Jack expects.
The anger fades away to something neutral, and Jack taps his fingers against his glass thoughtfully. Like Rhys's in the video, his silence lingers for a while while he looks to the hard drive with a hard to read expression. Finally, Jack shakes his head. He sits forward to reach to his datapad and pull up the next video, but as he does, Jack at least has one simple comment. ]
Yeah, kiddo. It is.
[ This video is also easy to watch. It's the same as the last where it's largely based in experiences that Jack simply doesn't share, and he doesn't feel much of anything over. As a younger man, he might have felt a pang of something over the idea that someone's parents would actually give enough of a shit over their kid to fund expensive cybernetics, but that had been squashed as Jack had gotten older and watched Angel grow up. So by now, hearing about that kind of thing comes with as much dispassionate distance as if Jack were reading a technical report.
It's only that last part that gets any kind of reaction out of Jack beyond that, but this too isn't anger or really... very much at all, at least outwardly.
He can piece together a general story of what happened through these videos and from thinking back on things Rhys had said, but there are still details that escape him. Hearing the anxiety in Rhys's voice, he's pretty sure about one thing that he had been wondering, at least. Rhys removed all of those cybernetics that Jack had known himself, hadn't he? He would've had to, because Jack knows himself. As soon as the Rhys would have fucked him over, he knows he would have taken over those cybernetics to really make him suffer. It's obvious. So it's obvious Rhys would have to get rid of them, and quickly.
But there's a detail that he lingers on, and that's the fact that Rhys hadn't destroyed the eye. He hadn't destroyed him. These stupid data files about everyone here made that clear, but it's a detail that Jack finds confusing. After all, if the situations were reversed, he wouldn't have done the same. Hell, he had decided that after he was done getting info from this drive, he was going to nuke it. It was a final "fuck you," because Jack still didn't feel satisfied with how he had killed Rhys. It was so lacking, because he truly wanted Rhys to know how deeply that betrayal cut, but he didn't have the chance. Rhys may have been a liar, but killing him like a bandit-- It didn't feel right.
So, why would Rhys keep the drive?
Rhys sure as hell seemed to think that Jack had betrayed him, and Rhys wasn't an idiot when it came to tech at least. He knew that the eye was what stored Jack and all he was. Jack had even said as much here to make that clear, because even though he had expressed it aggressively, he was afraid of the idea of Rhys having that eye in that form. It was like someone holding his beating heart in their hand, and he couldn't help but think that it was only a moment away from being crushed. Maybe it didn't matter now with whatever form Alice had given him, but it never made him any more comfortable.
Though a thought occurs to him, and Jack frowns as he considers it. Because maybe Rhys did know that. Maybe he got it, just how empty and desolate that place was. That was the weirdest part about it. It was a place, and it wasn't. He couldn't describe it, because in all of the memories and experiences he objectively knew weren't his at all, there was nothing like it. It was a true nothingness, and absence of anything but himself. There was nothing physical, nothing discernible, and not even time in any way that he could perceive normally. It was just desperately waiting to flicker back into what felt like existence, and it was a place Jack never, ever wanted to return to. He's sure that if it existed, Hell would be a better place than the drive, because at least there, he wouldn't be so utterly alone.
Yeah, he decides. That has to be it.
The idea that Rhys wanted Jack to suffer was all that made sense to him.
Jack leans forward to bring up the next video without ever really visisbly responding to this one. ]
It's only that last part that gets any kind of reaction out of Jack beyond that, but this too isn't anger or really... very much at all, at least outwardly.
He can piece together a general story of what happened through these videos and from thinking back on things Rhys had said, but there are still details that escape him. Hearing the anxiety in Rhys's voice, he's pretty sure about one thing that he had been wondering, at least. Rhys removed all of those cybernetics that Jack had known himself, hadn't he? He would've had to, because Jack knows himself. As soon as the Rhys would have fucked him over, he knows he would have taken over those cybernetics to really make him suffer. It's obvious. So it's obvious Rhys would have to get rid of them, and quickly.
But there's a detail that he lingers on, and that's the fact that Rhys hadn't destroyed the eye. He hadn't destroyed him. These stupid data files about everyone here made that clear, but it's a detail that Jack finds confusing. After all, if the situations were reversed, he wouldn't have done the same. Hell, he had decided that after he was done getting info from this drive, he was going to nuke it. It was a final "fuck you," because Jack still didn't feel satisfied with how he had killed Rhys. It was so lacking, because he truly wanted Rhys to know how deeply that betrayal cut, but he didn't have the chance. Rhys may have been a liar, but killing him like a bandit-- It didn't feel right.
So, why would Rhys keep the drive?
Rhys sure as hell seemed to think that Jack had betrayed him, and Rhys wasn't an idiot when it came to tech at least. He knew that the eye was what stored Jack and all he was. Jack had even said as much here to make that clear, because even though he had expressed it aggressively, he was afraid of the idea of Rhys having that eye in that form. It was like someone holding his beating heart in their hand, and he couldn't help but think that it was only a moment away from being crushed. Maybe it didn't matter now with whatever form Alice had given him, but it never made him any more comfortable.
Though a thought occurs to him, and Jack frowns as he considers it. Because maybe Rhys did know that. Maybe he got it, just how empty and desolate that place was. That was the weirdest part about it. It was a place, and it wasn't. He couldn't describe it, because in all of the memories and experiences he objectively knew weren't his at all, there was nothing like it. It was a true nothingness, and absence of anything but himself. There was nothing physical, nothing discernible, and not even time in any way that he could perceive normally. It was just desperately waiting to flicker back into what felt like existence, and it was a place Jack never, ever wanted to return to. He's sure that if it existed, Hell would be a better place than the drive, because at least there, he wouldn't be so utterly alone.
Yeah, he decides. That has to be it.
The idea that Rhys wanted Jack to suffer was all that made sense to him.
Jack leans forward to bring up the next video without ever really visisbly responding to this one. ]
[ Jack settles in for the third video and takes a long drink while he does so. Even if it's just his own paranoia and distrust that brought up the idea in the first place, the idea that keeping the eye was intentional was a sobering one, and he'd rather not be sober with that idea in his head. He pours another drink as he listens and takes in the new look that he'd grown more used to here on this ship. He talks about his friends and their betrayals and deaths, and Jack sighs. Rhys's newfound confidence clicks together all at once when Jack listens. ]
Yeah... You-- Guess you finally got it.
[ It's a sad realization, though not for Rhys so much as for Jack. His empathy is limited, so the only way he can truly relate is through himself, but there's a sting in the pain and hurt that's familiar. Getting older, at least when you worked for Hyperion? That meant realizing that no one had your back. Everyone was out for themselves, and if they weren't? They wouldn't last long. It'd taken Jack a long time to realize that. Actually-- He probably was around the same age as Rhys, he figures, but it wasn't something so distinct as he could point to an age. But it clicks because he gets it. The confidence comes from that realization, because when you just accept that truth about other people, then you know you can only rely on yourself and your own ability.
Of course, Jack listens more when the topic shifts to him, because he's ever the narcissit, but ironically, he's looking for answers here too. It's surely not what Rhys would have ever anticipated when he made these logs, but it's a perfect, cruel circle. Rhys had made these to try and pull out answers from what had happened, and now Handsome Jack was watching them to do the same. Jack listens, but he ends up scoffing tiredly. ]
No idea what my plan even was, babe.
[ Jack murmurs that into his glass quietly as he takes another drink, and he's surprised that this time, the idea of Rhys taking Atlas doesn't burn so hot in his chest. Like, it definitely still pisses him off, and he'd absolutely wrap his hands around Rhys's skinny neck for daring to steal from him, but it's starting to come together. It wasn't Rhys's plan to take Atlas. Jack believes that, and that surprises him. He can tell that taking Atlas wasn't ambition. It wasn't Rhys's ploy to get close to Jack just to greedily snatch the leftovers of Jack's success.
So when Rhys says that he has to write Jack's wrongs, Jack sets down his glass. It's gently this time instead of thrown against the wall, because Jack ends up running a hand through his hair as he leans forward to rest his elbows on the desk. It hurts again, but in a different way to hear it from Rhys that Hyperion is over. He feels nothing over the people that died, because that was always the risk they took in Hyperion, so far as he was concerned. But Hyperion had been the majority of his life. Had it not amounted to anything? All of his struggling to just do something right, to be a hero—
That did make it wrongs, didn't it? The ends would always justify the means. But if Hyperion was gone, then that dream would never come. No one would ever be able to see Jack's vision made reality, because he always knew as soon as Pandora was wiped clean, everyone would understand why he did the things he did. He was going to build paradise, and that simply couldn't be done without sacrifice. But with that path closed, there's a moment, no matter how small, where Jack feels the smallest shred of doubt.
Just how was he going to be remembered without that glory of his dream made reality? Was it going to be like how Rhys is recalling him here?
It's an uncomfortable, sickening thought. It's enough for Jack to decide he's done for the day. ]
Yeah... You-- Guess you finally got it.
[ It's a sad realization, though not for Rhys so much as for Jack. His empathy is limited, so the only way he can truly relate is through himself, but there's a sting in the pain and hurt that's familiar. Getting older, at least when you worked for Hyperion? That meant realizing that no one had your back. Everyone was out for themselves, and if they weren't? They wouldn't last long. It'd taken Jack a long time to realize that. Actually-- He probably was around the same age as Rhys, he figures, but it wasn't something so distinct as he could point to an age. But it clicks because he gets it. The confidence comes from that realization, because when you just accept that truth about other people, then you know you can only rely on yourself and your own ability.
Of course, Jack listens more when the topic shifts to him, because he's ever the narcissit, but ironically, he's looking for answers here too. It's surely not what Rhys would have ever anticipated when he made these logs, but it's a perfect, cruel circle. Rhys had made these to try and pull out answers from what had happened, and now Handsome Jack was watching them to do the same. Jack listens, but he ends up scoffing tiredly. ]
No idea what my plan even was, babe.
[ Jack murmurs that into his glass quietly as he takes another drink, and he's surprised that this time, the idea of Rhys taking Atlas doesn't burn so hot in his chest. Like, it definitely still pisses him off, and he'd absolutely wrap his hands around Rhys's skinny neck for daring to steal from him, but it's starting to come together. It wasn't Rhys's plan to take Atlas. Jack believes that, and that surprises him. He can tell that taking Atlas wasn't ambition. It wasn't Rhys's ploy to get close to Jack just to greedily snatch the leftovers of Jack's success.
So when Rhys says that he has to write Jack's wrongs, Jack sets down his glass. It's gently this time instead of thrown against the wall, because Jack ends up running a hand through his hair as he leans forward to rest his elbows on the desk. It hurts again, but in a different way to hear it from Rhys that Hyperion is over. He feels nothing over the people that died, because that was always the risk they took in Hyperion, so far as he was concerned. But Hyperion had been the majority of his life. Had it not amounted to anything? All of his struggling to just do something right, to be a hero—
That did make it wrongs, didn't it? The ends would always justify the means. But if Hyperion was gone, then that dream would never come. No one would ever be able to see Jack's vision made reality, because he always knew as soon as Pandora was wiped clean, everyone would understand why he did the things he did. He was going to build paradise, and that simply couldn't be done without sacrifice. But with that path closed, there's a moment, no matter how small, where Jack feels the smallest shred of doubt.
Just how was he going to be remembered without that glory of his dream made reality? Was it going to be like how Rhys is recalling him here?
It's an uncomfortable, sickening thought. It's enough for Jack to decide he's done for the day. ]
[ For anyone watching, it doesn't seem like Elizabeth's death really effects Jack at all. He goes about a relatively normal day after, smiling, laughing, joking. Nothing is any different beyond that one, muted "huh" when he had seen her floating outside. He returns to his room in the evening when he's free from being at Jason's side, and as he often does, the walkie talkie is set on the coffee table, and Jack sets his datapad to playing music. It's perfectly routine, since he likes to listen to music while he works, and his work never stops.
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. ]
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. ]
[ And truly, there's just silence as Jack stares himself down.
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. ]
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. ]
[ His expression twists up in anger. It's barely any time at all before that new, metal fist swings out and crashes against the mirror. It cracks underneath his fist across the entire surface, and several small pieces fall out to clatter against the counter when he pulls his fist away. He looks furious, and it's the kind of look that would send fear down anyone's spine if they were the one staring at it, but it's only his own, cracked face looking back. ]
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.
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.
[ see, the problem here is rhys knows jack. at this point? he really fucking knows him despite how messed up his perception has become. so rhys, ever faithful, watched jack and jason discover liz's body and stuck with watching jack until elizabeth found him later, after she arrived.
there was an argument.
it left rhys unsettled, a bit more hollow and chiseled away in a way he couldn't quite handle. he wasn't sure how much of this he could take, how much more watching he could do before things took a real toll on him, made his psyche truly shatter beyond repair (not that he'd realized yet just how far gone he's become, that's not till much later -- if ever).
he missed jack, like an ache in his chest that he couldn't fill and just watching him wasn't helping anymore -- not with the specter of rhys' mistake lingering just outside with the rest of them. he wanted to talk to elizabeth again, to make her understand what he meant, what his side of the story was and how wrong he was about... everything, but he wasn't sure if she'd listen.
so, he continues to watch jack.
it's when jack retires for the night that rhys suddenly starts paying attention to the feed again. his arms wrapped around his knees and head tucked into his body while his eyes fixate on the monitor. he knew jack's reaction to elizabeth's death was... subtle, excepted a reaction later -- to jason, maybe? he didn't think so, didn't think jack trusted jason enough for that even if jason was so equally effected by the death. so, he must have been keeping it to himself, must have been saving it for later -- that's what rhys thought.
for a moment, rhys doesn't want to do anything. he watches jack leave jason's side and take the trip to his room and --
rhys bolts.
he has to find elizabeth, he thinks. quickly because he doesn't want her to miss this. if she can just see what rhys has seen, especially when it's so related to her? he knows this would help him, help prove his point. jack was trying to help her this entire time, and her rejecting his help was cruel. elizabeth didn't know what she had, didn't know what it was that she was giving up and maybe now rhys can... show her, can show her the truth.
and if she accepts it, maybe rhys can kill her. he hasn't yet decided.
so, wherever elizabeth so happens to be, she'll see rhys run up to her frantically before grabbing at her wrist with his robot hand and taking off back to the shack. he'll ignore any of her protests, using the slight strength there to make sure she comes with him and to explain why they're running, he bites out -- ]
It's Jack! You have to see this, you have to.
[ and hopefully that's enough because when they burst into the shack and return to the monitor, jack is just beginning to speak. rhys will let go of elizabeth then, running both of his hands through his hair as he settles, something in him just finally feeling at rest at jack's very, very insane babbling. rhys is too... off, too broken to really understand the nature of this, it being relayed to him in such a way that he keeps justifying it to himself.
jack thinks so much, he can't keep it inside. jack's brain works too quickly, this is a result of that. jack's so smart, he's already figured it all out. jack's going to save them all, he's the hero of this story.
rhys falls back into his chair and lets out a sigh of relief, body relaxing fully for once as he watches jack rant into the mirror about math and alien and everything else. he props his head up on his elbow, lets jack's breakdown play out in front of them and isn't even surprised when jack falls silent.
he isn't even surprised when jack breaks the mirror.
(there is one twist to his expression during this, one little jerk of his eyes from the monitor to elizabeth when he hears jack say it. the one goddamn person i give a shit about. his mouth curls into something ugly and his free hand clenches in his lap but a moment later, his expression falls neutral, placid. he continues to watch.)
in fact, as jack starts up again and finally, finally pieces it together -- rhys smiles, content. rhys' eyes fall shut when he hears jack says his name and it feels good, like there's hope for him yet -- someone as disgusting, as vile as rhys, to still be considered by jack? he's not unworthy, he's not.
jack begins to yell at alice and rhys doesn't pay much attention because what he needed elizabeth to see was this, was jack's heroism coming out in full force. can't she see now? doesn't she understand? handsome jack is going to save them all, just like he saved rhys. he has to tell her this.
when jack finishes, rhys' eyes open up again and he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looks up at elizabeth. he catches a glance of jack again, the man is crying and rhys' heart twists but he knows there's nothing he can do. no, right now all he can do is talk to elizabeth again. ]
See? He's our hero. He's going to save us.
[ and that's all rhys has to say before he smiles again and leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest as if he's just proved a point. as if he's just, finally, shown elizabeth the truth. ]
there was an argument.
it left rhys unsettled, a bit more hollow and chiseled away in a way he couldn't quite handle. he wasn't sure how much of this he could take, how much more watching he could do before things took a real toll on him, made his psyche truly shatter beyond repair (not that he'd realized yet just how far gone he's become, that's not till much later -- if ever).
he missed jack, like an ache in his chest that he couldn't fill and just watching him wasn't helping anymore -- not with the specter of rhys' mistake lingering just outside with the rest of them. he wanted to talk to elizabeth again, to make her understand what he meant, what his side of the story was and how wrong he was about... everything, but he wasn't sure if she'd listen.
so, he continues to watch jack.
it's when jack retires for the night that rhys suddenly starts paying attention to the feed again. his arms wrapped around his knees and head tucked into his body while his eyes fixate on the monitor. he knew jack's reaction to elizabeth's death was... subtle, excepted a reaction later -- to jason, maybe? he didn't think so, didn't think jack trusted jason enough for that even if jason was so equally effected by the death. so, he must have been keeping it to himself, must have been saving it for later -- that's what rhys thought.
for a moment, rhys doesn't want to do anything. he watches jack leave jason's side and take the trip to his room and --
rhys bolts.
he has to find elizabeth, he thinks. quickly because he doesn't want her to miss this. if she can just see what rhys has seen, especially when it's so related to her? he knows this would help him, help prove his point. jack was trying to help her this entire time, and her rejecting his help was cruel. elizabeth didn't know what she had, didn't know what it was that she was giving up and maybe now rhys can... show her, can show her the truth.
and if she accepts it, maybe rhys can kill her. he hasn't yet decided.
so, wherever elizabeth so happens to be, she'll see rhys run up to her frantically before grabbing at her wrist with his robot hand and taking off back to the shack. he'll ignore any of her protests, using the slight strength there to make sure she comes with him and to explain why they're running, he bites out -- ]
It's Jack! You have to see this, you have to.
[ and hopefully that's enough because when they burst into the shack and return to the monitor, jack is just beginning to speak. rhys will let go of elizabeth then, running both of his hands through his hair as he settles, something in him just finally feeling at rest at jack's very, very insane babbling. rhys is too... off, too broken to really understand the nature of this, it being relayed to him in such a way that he keeps justifying it to himself.
jack thinks so much, he can't keep it inside. jack's brain works too quickly, this is a result of that. jack's so smart, he's already figured it all out. jack's going to save them all, he's the hero of this story.
rhys falls back into his chair and lets out a sigh of relief, body relaxing fully for once as he watches jack rant into the mirror about math and alien and everything else. he props his head up on his elbow, lets jack's breakdown play out in front of them and isn't even surprised when jack falls silent.
he isn't even surprised when jack breaks the mirror.
(there is one twist to his expression during this, one little jerk of his eyes from the monitor to elizabeth when he hears jack say it. the one goddamn person i give a shit about. his mouth curls into something ugly and his free hand clenches in his lap but a moment later, his expression falls neutral, placid. he continues to watch.)
in fact, as jack starts up again and finally, finally pieces it together -- rhys smiles, content. rhys' eyes fall shut when he hears jack says his name and it feels good, like there's hope for him yet -- someone as disgusting, as vile as rhys, to still be considered by jack? he's not unworthy, he's not.
jack begins to yell at alice and rhys doesn't pay much attention because what he needed elizabeth to see was this, was jack's heroism coming out in full force. can't she see now? doesn't she understand? handsome jack is going to save them all, just like he saved rhys. he has to tell her this.
when jack finishes, rhys' eyes open up again and he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looks up at elizabeth. he catches a glance of jack again, the man is crying and rhys' heart twists but he knows there's nothing he can do. no, right now all he can do is talk to elizabeth again. ]
See? He's our hero. He's going to save us.
[ and that's all rhys has to say before he smiles again and leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest as if he's just proved a point. as if he's just, finally, shown elizabeth the truth. ]
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