Rhys (
seniorvicejanitor) wrote in
lostcarnival2018-04-27 10:47 am
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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.
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.
no subject
He'll probably change his mind tomorrow. And then change it back the next day.
"So, do they have any...special abilities?" Rhys wonders. Maybe if they could shoot lasers or fire or ice, Rhys would be more okay with the possibility of his body growing things from different orifices.
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"If you're interested in acquiring 'special abilities', you may be able to learn magic while you are here."
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"I thought you had to be born with magic and then you just...I don't know, get better," he remarks, giving his fingers a wiggle. "I've never done magic in my life but you're telling me that I might be able to learn?"
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It would be so so satisfying to blast Vasquez's look poof of a hairdo off too. So, maybe he'd look into this. Maybe he'd see what it took to become a magician. Hopefully it wouldn't be too much work.
"I'm Rhys. Don't think I've said that yet."
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"How invasive is the checkup?" Rhys asks as casually as he can.
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"I'm not great with pain," he stage whispers, making a face. "I've been through a lot already. More might make me cry and that's just --"
Not cool. Not cool at all. But, if the situation calls for it, he's gonna do it.
"Then, who's gonna comfort me?"
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"All right, I'll be sure to be honest with whoever looks me over when I stop in for a check up or a check in or whatever you guys wanna do to me," Rhys promises. "Hopefully the modifications aren't gonna cause a problem since they're metal and computer parts."
He's not getting rid of them. "I wonder if they'd change too since they're not really living."
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Yukio's eyes go a little wide at that, and then he gets serious.
"Do you know the composition of the metal in your prosthetics? Fae have extremely negative reactions to iron."
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He wiggles his fingers a bit at Yukio and then drops his arm to his side. "That wasn't exactly a specification because I didn't really think I'd end up here. I left the instruction manual in my other pants."
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He doesn't want to be known as a janitor at all but a one armed janitor is even worse.
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That just sounded like a downgrade.
"I don't want a wooden arm. That's just asking for birds and animals and bugs to come make a home in my arm. It also means someone could set me on fire really easily!"
Now, an arm made of energy sounded promising. He might have to look into that.
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He'd think about it. He didn't really want to risk having his arm cut off and replaced again. It hadn't been all that fun the first time.
"First chance I get."