week 10 | friday morning

[jackhole]

[ elizabeth is dead.

finally.

rhys sits in the computer room and wonders if he should be relieved. a strange sort of jealousy built in him over the weeks as he watched elizabeth and jack and everything else play out in the game. she grew both closer and distant from him at the same time and he could see it hurting jack, see how he wanted to reach out for her but -- but not rhys. rhys died, rhys had an alien crawling through hims just like elizabeth, and no one mourned him. not fiona. not jack. but they went and saw elizabeth, didn't they? went and gave her their attention, their care, their love. it was sickening to watch and after a while, he barely paid attention to the participants after at all, feeling bile in his throat and a slow systematic shut down of his emotions.

fiona didn't care. jack was stripping him for parts. elizabeth got to live and he didn't.

he's not sure how he feels anymore.

he thinks he hates them.

so maybe this is relief he feels when he sees elizabeth's body go down, sees her corpse shoot out into space and finally end her participation in the game. he thinks to himself, cruel and cold, that at least elizabeth won't be able to go back home either -- just like him. she played jack, made him feel like they still had such a relationship while going to people like jason and luke -- telling them how evil jack was, how he deserves to die. she didn't know anything of jack, not really, the sanctimonious little bitch.

doesn't she realize jack saved them? doesn't she realize jack saved her?

rhys didn't deserve to be saved, he realizes. it doesn't stop him from being bitter.

he misses jack. he misses fiona. he misses being alive and now the woman -- no, the girl who took his place is here with him in death.

he wonders if he should kill her again. it would certainly make him feel better. ]

Comments

[baptizer]

[ And like a burst of energy in a dead land - Elizabeth is the sun. Her voice more childish than you'd imagine despite how poetic and prolific she had been. Laughter spills forth again. ]

Hey! Who you callin' cuckoo?!

[jackhole]

[ OH

MY

GODDDDDDDDDDDDD

elizabeth?? rhys faces twists even more before, without even being ready for it, he starts laughing. just shaking his head and absolutely losing it, breathless laughter escaping him as he presses his hands to his face and laughs and laughs and laughs. ]

Oh my god. What the hell was that? That was so -- oh my god.

[ after a moment, he keeps on laughing, hands dropping from his face to clutch his middle because he just can't stop. this entire situation is just so dumb that he can't -- he can't take it seriously. that joke was just so absurdly out of the blue and dissonant to what he was expecting from elizabeth that it throws him off.

after a bit, the laughter quiets into a wheeze and rhys falls back into the sand, laying there with his legs bent and his flesh arm thrown over his eyes. his robot hand rests on the flat of his stomach and just. god damnit, elizabeth. ]

I really, really didn't expect that. Fuck. That was so silly, I thought -- I don't know what I thought. Who cares anyway?

[ he shifts his arm then to pillow it under his head, staring up at the sky with a sigh. he doesn't look so down anymore. in fact, there's a slight smile on his face and his eyes glance over to elizabeth before back to the sky and he points upwards. ]

Hey, doesn't that cloud look like a cat?

[ it's a peace offering, an invitation to lay with him here and watch some of the clouds go by -- just like she suggested earlier with her story about columbia. he couldn't hear it then, but he could hear it now and hell, it looks like some clouds rolled in while they talked, because of their conversation or because of chance? that's a little up in the air. ]

[baptizer]

[ This was childish - it was absolutely ridiculous and she shouldn't have to do this. There's a lot of emotions running through the girl and a lot of them go into her problems with a certain someone. She feels like a victim and she's tired of it. Her footing to overcome that slipped and now? She's dead.

This was as much for Rhys as it was for Elizabeth.

She watches his reaction and immediately defends herself: ]

It was a good joke! I heard it from a shopkeep in Soldier's Field. He tried to get me to buy a replica rifle soon after... but at least the joke stuck.

[ As he falls back, Elizabeth sits there side-saddled, her legs curled to her. As she watches his reaction, she smiles a bit - feeling that.. maybe she can help. Maybe she can still do something?

She tilts her vision up, watching as he points out an oddly shaped cloud. ]

I would have said a horse with short legs...

[ And soon, she lays back next to him. She feels her heart a bit heavy, wondering if Rhys was truly considering her words. The clouds were lined with a harsh magenta, glowing with yellow and orange as the sun continues to set. ]

They're pretty, at least. They remind me of ho - [ Home. No, she sharply corrects herself. ] - they remind me of something from a book I read.

[jackhole]

[ when she settles next to him, he focuses his gaze entirely on the sky above and suddenly... he feels lighter. it's been a while since he felt like this, like he did deserve this death but maybe the death itself wouldn't be so bad? or it didn't have to be. he's still not sure, his feelings on elizabeth too complicated and tangled up in... someone else to really process. he hates it, in a way, wishes he could rewind time to when he and fiona were running for the vault and...

... god, fiona. he doesn't know what too do about her, but it sure feels like she knows what to do about him. he's kept trying to watch her too but... nothing. there's nothing there. it's like he never even mattered to her and he doesn't get it.

for now, he listens to elizabeth's voice, eyes roaming the skies for anything new to point out but... honestly, it's just a beautiful sight in of itself. he knows it's fake since, well, it has to be, but... he hasn't really seen anything like it in a long time.

he listens to her correction and sighs, voice oddly soft in his reply. ]

You can say home. It's -- it's no big deal. I think it's fine to remember it, even if things are pretty different now. What else are you gonna do with the memories?

[ he lifts his hand then to yawn, feeling a weird sort of peace settle over him that he hasn't felt in a while. the view above them combined with the soft sound of the waves, it's really... oddly soothing, actually. he could fall asleep like this. ]

[baptizer]

I don't want to say it's home. That's the predicament.

[ Elizabeth's finger reaches up, faux-pinching at the tail of the cat or small horse. She swirls her fingers and swears the cloud shapes against it. It's her imagination, she thinks... He yawns, then she yawns and Elizabeth feels super tired now. Her thumbs run against the lining of her corset, feeling the fabric root her back to reality. ]

There's not really a place I call home and that's okay. [ Even if she says something so sad, there's still a vague warmth to her voice. Optimistic. She shuts her eyes briefly, breathing in the beachy, earthy air. ] This is nice enough.

[jackhole]

[ his eyes glance over to elizabeth then, mouth tugging into a slight frown at her words before he looks back up at the sky and thinks.

he... doesn't really have much of a home himself, does he? after helios crashing and rebuilding his life, maybe with his parents but -- he feels aimless in a way, drifting towards some sort of huge goal that's not quite in reach anymore. he thought he had a guiding point before, fiona representing that in some way, but now... he doesn't know.

why did she abandon him like this? ]

... You know, I think I feel the same way.

[ and that's all he'll say for now, closing his eyes too to savor the clean air, the sand underneath him, and the warm body laying next to him. it's pretty nice, weirdly enough. ]

[baptizer]

[ Elizabeth remains silent. The drifting waves and the wafting clouds only a reminder that earth and sky moved in the same manner - patterns. As she feels her eyes heavy, Elizabeth shifts around only a bit. The calming sensation of nature and some... eerie, bittersweet peace allows her to barely brush her metal-capped pinky against the fabric of his shirt before she succumbs to her own needs: sleep.

There's a stillness between them both and who knows how long that lasted. ]