day 4 - after execution

[heroizes]

[ It's not hard for Jack to guess where Rhys ran away to. Granted, there weren't exactly many places to look, but he thinks he knows the guy well enough to make a beeline for the tech lab. After all, it's where he himself would go. There's comfort in the technology, in work, and so that solitude is much preferable to having to be around people. He's pretty sure he gets that.

However, Rhys isn't so lucky as to be alone. ]

Hey, asshole!

[ Wow, that sure is familiar, and it's just as full of emotion as hen Rhys had said it. Jack closes the door behind him, and when he walks over to Rhys, it's clear from every tense muscle in his body that he's upset and angry. ]

Yeah, figured you'd friggin' be here. Because you know what? I'm two for two now. [ That's a bit ominous, but Jack stops in front of Rhys and crosses his arms tightly as if he's trying to stop himself from doing something. ] We. Need. To. Talk.

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[heroizes]

[ It's... weird, not being the one talking, Jack realizes. Usually he's the one that talks, but with Rhys? Somehow, this guy manages to always keep Jack silent. There's something just viscerally frightening about Rhys, not as a person, but as a concept, and no matter how Jack tries, it's a difficult idea to divorce from him. Every conversation seems like it's a weight on an invisible scale that tilts either towards Jack, the hero he wants to be, or Jack, the monster he'll become. It's why he approaches Rhys with such trepidation compared to others, because Jack doesn't like feeling so at a disadvantage. Hyperion trains you to think that way. Anyone that has power over you is going to use it to screw you over, and Rhys holds more capacity for that than anyone else could ever hope to.

It's that idea that gets Jack's gaze to eventually break from Rhys's as he rubs at the back of his neck. Because with how Rhys explains it here, he's reminded again that Rhys claims that's not the reason. It's always claims for Jack, because it's a hell of an easy thing to lie about, and he's met some skilled liars in his day. But there was always a limit to it, too. He wasn't perfect at it (actually, he was pretty bad at seeing it), but he knew enough of the signs of someone just looking to suck up or find dirt to bring you down. There were lines they wouldn't cross, and this? This feels like one of them, and that's what has Jack responding slightly awkwardly as if he's being scolded.

Because in a way, Rhys being an asshole out to get him or an obsessed stalker was easier. Those were things Jack could easily categorize or dismiss, but love? Love to the point that Rhys had bargained for him? Had tried to plot against his own little group so that he might be one of the survivors? That was the line that a selfish bastard wouldn't cross. It was always self-preservation first, climbing a ladder second. If what he says was true, then Rhys really was putting his own life on the line for Jack's sake. That's strange to him. The only people who had ever done that for him, well. He'd paid them to do so. Body doubles, Vault Hunters, mercs, it was always just money for security. Having someone provide it without that was... something. He's not sure how to interpret what he feels when Rhys explains this.

It's nice, in a way, but nice isn't really just it. There's that same thrill of power, and he knows it, because someone this devoted to him, that was useful. Obviously. That was giving him a way out where a path may have not existed before. He'd spoken with others about possibilities and things he could engineer to try and figure a way out of here, because if there was anyone that could do it, it was him. He had that kind of confidence in his abilities to say that and truly believe it.

He looks back to Rhys, and his brow knits together briefly as he's shoved back, and it's clear he's considering something, though what that is wouldn't be clear. There's a choice here. He can choose a path of justice, and he can work by his own means to discover the way. Or he could choose the path that's already been carved out, if only for a select few.

Jack looks at the scalpel in his hand, then tosses it down to the first level. He rolls his shoulders with a tired groan, but steps towards the wall. For all his talking, he's never quite as good expressing his feelings through words so much as through his gestures. He doesn't need the scalpel, and he doesn't need Rhys to go first like he would have insisted on a moment ago.

Both paths have risks. Both have the potential for someone to betray him. But he'll take the one where someone's made an effort to prove that they can be trusted. ]

Don't forget to grab that when we leave. Or whatever. Can't believe I'm friggin doin' this...

[ His muttering trails off into nearly unintelligible murmurs, but he shifts all the same to go inside Rhys's cubbyhole. Because I am not saying Jack is going inside Rhys's hole but that is the sentence I was referring to and the terrible struggle of phrasing I just faced. I hate you.

Phrasing aside, while his back is turned to Rhys, he does at least offer something more positive in response. His words are confident this time, but also earnest. It's clear from how he speaks that he's being genuine. ]

Look- It's nothing personal. I'm an asshole, Hyperion screw you up, whatever. But-- Uh, thanks. For... trying to help me out. That's why I'm trusting you, Rhys.