lostcarnival | [open] bro bro bro bro

Entry tags:

[open] bro bro bro bro

Who: Rhys and you!
When: D48-D49
Where: Various Locations
What: It's time for Rhys to make himself at home (or more likely whine that he's not the boss)
Warnings: Probably low but I'll update if anything happens

[day 48 - all around the carnival grounds - what have i gotten myself into?]

Rhys doesn't regret the decision. He doesn't regret taking a deal from some shady Ringmaster (and he hates that he'd never thought of that as a nickname for himself) to escape August and Vasquez and a bunch of killer robots that would have surely ended his life.

What he does regret is leaving Vaughn behind. Fiona and Sasha less so. But, there's still a sliver of sadness that he's here and they're not. Hopefully, whenever this whole thing ends, he'll go back and they'll forgive him.

(Though he seriously doubts that. They'll either be dead or they'll kill him.)

For the first little while, he wanders. He gets his shoes dusty (a development that makes him frown) and his hair wind blown but what else is there to do but figure things out? His lodgings, a trailer in a park surrounded by similar metallic bumps, isn't luxurious but it's not a hole in the ground.

He'll take it. He'll whine about it later.

[day 49 - anywhere that needs cleaning up around the carnival - where's a loader bot when you need one?]

Rhys regrets the decision.

As soon as he reports for work and someone slaps a mop into his hand, he regrets the decision. Janitor. A janitor again. Somewhere, Vasquez is probably laughing his ass off. The only good thing, Rhys guesses, is that whoever's in charge isn't Vasquez and won't be making him run all over the place to do menial things.

He still has to clean though and the grimace on his face as he starts mopping a dirty floor is evidence of what he thinks about that. But, he tells himself it won't be for very long. He tells himself that time will pass quickly.

He tells himself that he can drown himself in his mop bucket if it gets too bad.

Mopping isn't a hard think to do but he still mops over various people's shoes instead of telling them to move and he steps all over his own freshly cleaned floors more than once.

The third time he does that, he curses loudly and then looks around, hoping no one's heard that. He hasn't memorized all the rules but he's pretty sure cursing on the job is frowned upon.

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Rhys looks, a bitchy retort ready to go and it's nearly out of his mouth when he reins himself in, pulls back and swallows the words down. If this were Hyperion, he wouldn't have had any qualms about saying something sharp to someone he doesn't know because most of them are either robots or nerds who work in the IT department.

This man doesn't look like either of those. That doesn't mean Rhys doesn't want to say something and the turn of his lips, the frown on his face probably reflect tha pretty clearly.

"What are you talking about? I'm doing a great job," Rhys says, gesturing to the shiny, wet floors he's left in his wake. Sure, there are some footprints and he's mopped over some shoes but that only makes them shinier, in Rhys' opinion. "It's not my fault if someone doesn't pay attention and ends up slipping. I'm not making a secret out of what I'm doing."

Tyki was a conman by trade within the carnival just as much as a magician. Body language told him more than words could and already he's noticing the way his frown graces his face or that pent up need to say or do something.

"Such cheek," he replies instantly, his hands reaching down to lightly brush against his shoes. His hand presses hard and his palm smears the water in a glide as his Power to Choose activates. As if the material has separated from the water itself, it drips off his hand and his shoes are left good as new.

He rises from his chair, now prowling forward towards the other in a loose stride, "No, it wouldn't be your fault at all. Nor would it really be mine if you slipped had I gotten offended at you ruining something you couldn't even afford to replace." Tyki's very good at making murder seem like an accident, "Thankfully, I have enough patience for new pups."

Rhys' hands tighten on the handle of the mop though he doesn't know why. He's never had any sort of combat training because he hadn't thought it necessary. He pretty much thought he'd rise to the top of the Hyperion food chain and then have an army to do his bidding.

Vasquez had messed all that up and now Rhys was here, wondering if he wished hard enough, would he be able to suddenly know some sort of martial art that utilized a mop. Maybe the fact that Handsome Jack was currently residing in his head would give him an edge.

As if Jack could hear him (which he could), Rhys heard a hollow, hysterical laugh in his head. He had to resist the urge to smack his ear to get it to stop.

Rhys is pretty proud of himself for not immediately trying to retreat though especially when whoever this is seems to just...lift the water away from his shoe. He feels a mixture of fear and a sudden need to make nice with this person.

"I'm not a pup," Rhys says, trying to sound steady, tough. "And last I checked, mopping someone's shoes, which I'm not saying I did, wasn't a crime worthy of being...whatever you were just threatening to do to me. I'm pretty sure I have rights, even here! Even while I'm holding a mop."

Rhys was in for a rude awakening when it came to carnival. He'll have to employ some very deep basic skills of running for cover if he couldn't fight. Then again, others seemed to manage just fine without them. Tyki on the other hand was excellent at hand to hand combat.

His grin cracks and he barks out laughing, "Threatening? No, no. I was merely warning you for the future, as a courteous welcoming gesture, pup." A name he's going to keep calling him just because he doesn't like it. And yes, he was kind of threatening him but unless Rhys has been hiding in a hole somewhere he's assuming he's new, "Rights? I suppose you do. The right to breathe, work, and eat."

"So, if I'm a pup," Rhys says, grimacing about the fact that he's just used that stupid nickname, "does that make you some mother dog? The matriarch who looks out over everyone else and makes sure they get their nourishment?"

As comebacks go, it's not the best but Rhys isn't really at the top of his game considering he's been hired on as a freaking janitor and he doesn't even have cool powers like this guy does. Sure, he has his eye, he has his arm but that's no good unless he wants to know information about this person.

Which...might be a good idea especially if this whole thing escalates. Maybe his ECHO eye would show him some hidden weakness that could give him a leg up. Or maybe it'd just provide him stupid song lyrics.

"Why aren't you working? You don't own this place."

Oh good, he's fine with that nickname. Welcome to Tyki's list.

"I have been told I like to bite those that mess with my own, but no," he says with a very low tone, "That would be the Warden." It's punctuated to be ominous, half for his own amusement, and half because he would rather no one made any trouble for Sans.

It does well to flatter Tyki's ego in any case. His heels click softly against the ground, announcing his presence upon these shiny and wet floors, as he starts to circle around Rhys instead of standing still or getting any closer.

"I don't clean floors, pup. And I'm not needed as a Magician for at least another hour or so." As for his second job, the Acquisitioner bid them not to steal or con at the moment.

Rhys is going to have to find something, anything, that he can shove under his pillow at night to sleep with. This guy's talking about biting people and Rhys really doesn't want to wake up with fingers missing. The mop, obviously, won't fit under the pillow but maybe he can break it, carve it into something sharp.

"You're a Magician?" Rhys asks, trying not to sound jealous that he had a cool job and Rhys was stuck mopping floors and cleaning up after people. What a gyp. He had tons of other skills but no, the Ringmaster apparently had a bit of Vasquez in her and was going to make him actually work.

"Is that because you can do that thing with water and your shoes?" Shoes that were pretty nice, Rhys notices. Shoes that Rhys would have bought for himself but there didn't seem to be a huge variety of stores around here.

Don't worry, Rhys. Tyki doesn't really bite. He just rips hearts and organs from bodies with his bare hands. Besides, the Warden wouldn't allow that kind of thing and the Ringmaster had a really strict rule in place to keep him tame.

"I am," he responds with such a simple answer. It's a good distraction to keep focusing on him and not himself. Tyki loves to talk. "One of two Magician's within the carnival actually. But yes, it is because of my magic that I have been granted this job. It's more than just the water and my shoes."

Rhys has no magical powers to speak of. He's great at gleaning information from people and things because of his ECHO eye but that's not really him, those are the modifications he chose to make to his own body. Take those away and he's pretty damn normal. He's Vaughn but better looking and with a hotter bod.

So, he's envious. He's envious and he's jealous because all he gets to do is clean up after everyone and this guy, this person, gets to do magic and sit around and frighten Rhys with talk of biting.

"So, are you better than the other guy?" Rhys asks, arching one eyebrow. "The other Magician? Are you better? Or are you gonna give me the bullshit politically correct answer and say you're both good?"

Maybe, Rhys thinks, he can divert this guy from thoughts of biting Rhys to thoughts of being his friend. Or at least someone that doesn't hate him. Might come in handy later.

Tyki's already gathered that information on his own. Rhys wasn't bad looking but then he wasn't anything over the top special. He looked average and acted like the common human, or so he pegged him as one. If he wanted to look deeper he'd just have to examine his soul but that took thought and actual focus. He ran his mouth and would likely get him killed in the future if he did so against a Fae or any underlings.

Give it time, Rhys. Everything can possible learn magic eventually.

"Well, it is true. We're both good. I likely can survive in a battle longer than he can but if we're going by terms of magic and Magician... I would say that Strange is the better Magician. His magic is full of potential. He could essentially do anything he wanted given thought and effort. Besides, he is a Magician at home, I am not."

Rhys makes a mental note to find this Strange person. Maybe not to make friends but to at least get in his good graces. He's self aware enough to know that he's going to need help -- associates, so to speak -- if he's going to rise above wet mops and rubber gloves.

"I'm not a janitor at home," Rhys says even though it's a lie. He was, technically, a janitor but he just hadn't stuck around long enough to do that job. Stupid Vasquez. "I was a businessman. An executive high ranking in a very important company."

Another lie. Rhys stares down at the wet floor and glares. "What did you do back home, then? Assassin? Cannibal?"

Funnily enough it seemed that the Ringmaster valued a good and hard worker. It's why Tyki works hard when he has to yet lazes about otherwise. Friends were good to have if only to assist when it came down to hardship.

"A businessman, hmm? Is that where you got your sharp tongue?" His eyes narrow faintly to scrutinize him. He certainly looked the part but he was either extremely lucky or he actually had skills to back his story. "Important enough to matter?"

He's certainly not smart enough to keep an eye on his back as Tyki prowls around to behind him in that inspecting circle, "I am a Lord of the Court. Beloved, wealthy, powerful, renown."

"Important enough that when I disappear, there should be a galaxy wide search party," Rhys retorts confidently. That search party would probably consist of Vaughn and, if he's lucky, Fiona and Sasha. Maybe August would tag along because he was bored and an idiot. But, they'd look. Rhys is confident they'd look for at least a few days.

When this guy, this Lord of the Court, starts moving around him and investigating him like he's a piece of meat, the hair on the back of Rhys' neck stands on end.

"I don't know what a Lord of the Court is," Rhys says, mustering some bravado. "Lords usually have bosses though, right? Emperor? King? God King?"

"Well, let's hope you don't die here then and end up disappearing from your world. I'm afraid they'll never find you," he says with that usual ominous atmosphere, "Still, at least you're that important."

He doesn't really expect many to know what his title is or how important it would be if he disappeared. His family would surely notice almost instant and the announcement would send bitter tears throughout those that enjoyed his company. "Our head of house is an Earl so yes, 'bosses' is not quite the word but in your pup terms, I suppose that fits."

He stops from behind him with a wider grin that almost threatens to crack his face, "Not that any of that matters here. No one is going to bow when they see me as titles mean nothing nor will they respect you for what money and power you have at home."

"Please don't kill me in my sleep," Rhys says, just wanting to get it out there. He doesn't want to die and he doesn't want this guy to want to kill Rhys either. They've had some pretty good banter that Rhys has enjoyed so he just wants to make sure he puts that out there in case Tyki thinks he's intentionally pushing his luck.

Rhys just can't help but run off at the mouth. It's like an uncontrollable tic.

"And I don't really want people to bow at my feet and kiss my ring just because of who I am back home." Back home where he was meaningless. "I just think I'd be a little more respected if I wasn't a freaking janitor. I'm going to smell like mop water for weeks."

"Don't worry. Killing someone in their sleep just isn't my style," he says with all the wicked implication that he loved to watch them die right in front of him. Still, he laughs at Rhys' expense with a small gesture of his hand. "You're part of the carnival now. It's not as if I could kill you and get away with it that easily. The Ringmaster doesn't take kindly to anyone killing one of our own."

He tilts his head at Rhys' statement about being respected. "Performers tend to get respect but they work hard and excel at what they do. Even if you are mopping floors, hard work is respected and appreciated most of the time. The Ringmaster certainly seems to enjoy it."

Rhys thinks that's supposed to be reassuring but Rhys also knows that there are other things that can be done to him that's not killing. He's going to have to sleep with one eye open. He's never going to get a full night's sleep again, not with Jack in his head and having to look out for potential intruders coming to do who knows what to him.

"And this Ringmaster, everyone just trusts her?" Rhys asks curiously. "I'm not going against that, you don't have to go run and tell her I'm doubting but I'm new. I don't trust too many people but everyone so far seems like she's going to follow through on all the things she promises. There a reason? She a person of her word or am I going to have to be prepared for being screwed if she's not having a good day?"

"You have nothing to fear from the carnival other than what the carnival gets involved in," he answers plainly. That means himself and everyone within it. Well, unless Strange accidentally sets him on fire or someone else's magic misfires.

"I can't say everyone but she has come through in her word whenever she says she'll do something. If it is an impossibility, she will state so. There are some that have been here for years and their contracts have been completed." He grins, "She can be a bit spitfire when she wants but that just adds to her appeal. You can trust her to at least keep her word." Being a man that got contracted over a loss at a game of strip poker, he can't really complain.

Rhys nods but he's still not sure because while he says she's trustworthy, Rhys doesn't trust him yet either so taking his word on someone else is hard. But, it's not like he has much of a choice either. He's here and it doesn't seem like escape is an option. And if he can make it through a year, he'll get his hearts desire and get out of here.

One year isn't that long. It keeps him away from Vasquez and August and a bunch of killer robots so there are some pros to the whole situation.

"But, I'm a little worried about the 'what the carnival gets involved' in line you just used. I feel like I should find some armor and just wear it all the time."

It's strange. He mentions being important at home but he is also wary about Tyki wandering off to report him to the Ringmaster. Either he earned his success through money and not skill or he reports to someone higher and more in charge. Tyki's not going to read too far into it but the thought is still entertaining.

"It might help. It might not. It all depends on where the carnival ends up at any given time. Within the carnival grounds, it is usually safe. It's really only when you have to step off into other locations."

"Well, staying in one place just sounds boring," Rhys says, frowning. He hasn't seen much of this carnival so far but it seems smaller than Hyperion and with a little less to do. Maybe he just hasn't experienced it at the right time but still. He doesn't want to just sit in his trailer at night, twiddling his thumbs while he lets Jack entertain him.

"Just have to use the buddy system whenever this place gets into some crap, I guess," Rhys says thoughtfully. Maybe he can get Tyki to go along with him. The guy's intimidating and he guesses pretty powerful. Rhys has some hidden abilities but he's not going to win fights against people with super duper powerful magic.

"Come on, it can't be all bad outside the boundaries of this place," Rhys says. "That would just be unfair."

"I can't disagree. It is dull having to stay in one spot." Which is why he's thankful the carnival does move around. It makes time pass quicker and gives him lots to explore. "Your Foreman would say the same thing. I hear her often encourages the buddy system even when things aren't as risky."

If Rhys asks Tyki might oblige depending on what he's doing at the time. His conman work was often solo but there were always exceptions. He never truly minds the company.

"I've learned that while things don't seem too bad that can change in a heartbeat. Right now we're in a merged location with a library surrounding us. Other than getting swallowed up into a book's story and having to improvise and act to get out, it's not so bad right now." Unless that happens to be something of a dangerous story.

"Books, huh?" It would probably be a good way to get information about places and things he doesn't know. It's a bit of a surprise learning there's more to the world than Hyperion and Pandora and the rest of the universe. He'd always thought that was it, that was all he'd be able to explore but sometimes, Rhys doesn't mind being wrong.

"Never been much of a reader unless it was on a computer screen or it was -- " A risque magazine. He just clears his throat, doesn't say anything further on that.

"Anyway, books. That sounds pretty harmless. Maybe I'll see if I can find something interesting in there when I'm not mopping crap up."

"That's right, books," he repeats. It was pretty harmless until he himself found himself sucked into a novel, chained to a mast of a sinking ship. It was easy enough to get out of the supposed mutiny of a story and he found the treasure which ended the story.

He tilts his head, a perplexed look on his face. He's heard that word before and he's not shy about being vocal about his needs, "I'm not sure what a computer is, to be honest." Victorian noble, what is technology. Please send help.

"There's a lot of interesting things about this library. You'll find stories about other people, other timelines, heroes, people you admired. There might even be something about your world there. I'm told you just have to really want the information."

"Probably not for me, then." Rhys knows enough about his own world to satisfy him and that's enough. He's not really interested in learning about other people unless those other people can somehow do something for him. But, most of them are probably dead and in the ground so, unless they're going to be haunting his enemies, no real use for spirits.

"I'll probably just stick to my trailer and sleep." He's not really that tired but it passes the time until they get somewhere exciting or he gets to a place where he doesn't have to mop. He's mopped enough that he's looking forward to sweeping. Dusting. Anything but something that involves mop water. "Sleeping's safe, right? No weird crap happens there?"

[open] bro bro bro bro

Re: Day 49

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