week 7 - friday night - but like super late (or early?)

[crazily]

[ After a certain conversation, Break and Rhys had back to their rooms, but before they part ways, Break beckons for Rhys to come inside. He seems to have something else he'd like to say, and as he closes the door after them, his expression softens, perhaps surprisingly. Break has been cold and detached all day, since perhaps that's just simply how he processes what happened today, but now grief shows in little parts of his expression. It's still a ghost of grief, like he's not comfortable with allowing anymore than this, but it's still more than anything else he had shown today.

And yet, what he actually says might be surprising. It's not about their conversation at all, but instead something much more practical. Though still, the fact that he has to ask at all is where that grief is coming from even if he tries to push it away. ]

I... don't like asking for help, but circumstances here at least make me know that I need to.

[ He says this extremely awkwardly, so it at least conveys the sense that he's completely telling the truth about being an awkward old grandpa that doesn't like asking for help. ]

Would you mind helping me out from time to time? I do fairly well on my own, but if it's anything that relies too much on sight, then I can't quite manage that. Reading, especially.

Comments

people who need to go to bed: these two

[jackhole]

[ at this point, rhys is definitely dragging from everything and his bedding is probably still in break's room so he probably had to stop by anyway. when they go inside, he'll drop down onto the bed he used earlier and lift a hand to yawn, watching break's expression over his hand and furrowing his eyebrows slightly. that... was definitely not an expression he ever expected to see on break's face, no, but he understands what sort of situation they've landed themselves in. ]

Dude, of course. Looking at who's left, we're definitely stuck together now, I think.

[ the two assholes left standing...! at least, that's how rhys sees it. it's awkward that their trio has now dropped to a duo and he definitely feels the lack of gilbert in the room. for crying out loud, his stuff is still scattered around the room and rhys is pretty sure he can still smell the vague scent of cigarettes in here. it actually makes him tear up a little but he won't cry again -- damnit, he won't cry! ]

I'm not as good a cook as... [ he doesn't really want to say it, just let's the silence hang for a moment before clearing his throat. ] I mean, I can make tea, if that's something you want. You just have to ask, Break.

sleep is for the weak

[crazily]

[ The sentiment of who is "left" definitely makes Break laugh, and he has to nod in agreement. Even without saying it, he catches the implication all the same. Team Shady definitely has a certain way of doing things, and, yeah, they're the assholes... But honestly, Break wouldn't exactly have that any other way. ]

That'll be fine. I actually can cook, you know, but I just don't like to. [ A pause, and then he adds: ] ...Though I also haven't tried since I lost my sight, so I probably shouldn't try and pick it back up now.

[ Otherwise they'll probably end up with another stupid murder like the cat's, and no thank you to that. He pauses again, thouhg it's clear he wants to say something, but he just ends up sighing rather heavily at first. It's easier to see the exhaustion that Break carries with him for a moment, like that odd, century-old age is written less in his eternally youthful face and more in how he carries himself. He's tempted to say something about Gilbert, but with that pause, he decides against it. Though perhaps that's too difficult for him too, though he wouldn't admit it.

He walks and sets the cane down, then takes a seat on the other bed. He doesn't flop down onto it like Rhys. It takes him a few more moments to start what he wants to say, though it meanders a bit to start. ]

If it wasn't already obvious, I'm a bit more than a valet at home. I'm an agent of Pandora, and that's an organization that exists to protect the balance of the world, in a sense. But without the noble sentiment, I'm an assassin. I hunt down people who make Illegal Contracts with Chains, and I kill them. I'm the best agent in the organization, but they tend to call me "Mr. One Man Show," since I don't like working with others. It's murder, after all. I don't like to count on someone else to be able to do what's necessary, because not everyone can. I can't begrudge them for it, but throwing away your emotions for doing what's needed. That's why this whole thing doesn't actually bother me as much as it probably should. I'd never breathe a word of it, because for all the very normal people involved in this game, I'm dangerous. No one here should trust me, because the nature of my work or who I am, it means deceiving others potentially so that I can kill them.

[ Which is an odd sort of prelude, but this is how Break has to build himself up to get to his point. It really is hard for him to admit or allow something like this. It took ten years for Break to trust Gilbert enough to be able to tell him something similar, but Break knows that's his own pride and his idea of his goals. But now, having outlived someone he never thought he would, it feels all the more important to say things like this. There are a lot of things he could have said to Gilbert, but couldn't because he didn't want to seem sentimental. It's still hard for him, and even though this is something simple, it still seems to be something Break has great difficulty actually giving, much less admitting. ]

...So my point here is that I trust you.

[ He reaches up to put his face into his hand with a soft laugh, though he shakes his head. ]

You're the only other person that's playing this the way I do, surprisingly. So... It's important for you to know that much. It means— Well, I'm not trying to deceive you.

[ And this is the closest to "we're friends" that Break will ever get, since he's positively allergic to the word. But good effort, Break. ]