[ when morrigan takes his hand, he glances down in just a little surprised before smiling softly, directing his gaze back to her. he shifts his hand to take hers a little more firmly, flesh hand against flesh hand this time and she's right in that it's a comfort to it for him.
his smile widens as she passes on making fun of him, feeling warmed over it and grateful. he could take it, of course, but in his relief to see her again... the slight sincerity here is much nicer. when she asks him of how he feels, the smile dips a little and he sighs, looking towards the dirt again. ]
I keep thinking of Jack. He was my... hero, my mentor and I tried so hard to be him when I was home, even here I always thought "what would Jack do," right? But... Jack died. He died doing what he thought was right but it hurt a lot of people in the process and they took the matters into their own hands. They killed his daughter first, you know. Then they killed him, left his corpse alone to rot in the middle of some volcano somewhere. Took his mask as some kind of freakin' trophy.
[ and when it's said like that, it does sound kind of vile, doesn't it? rhys is bitter and can't help but see the comparisons in his death to jack's, in his situation to jack's. it makes for a really sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, a feeling he'd like to forget.
so he steps a bit closer to morrigan, standing in front of where she sits and he stares down at their clasped hands, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. ]
But... I'm not Jack. I died doing what I thought was right, sure, but I'm not completely alone, am I? And maybe everything hasn't completely gone to shit, right? There's some good things about being dead here, I think.
[ he looks up from their hands then to morrigan, meets her eyes and gives another smile before, with a bit of a flush to his face, he lifts their clasped hands and presses a sweet, chaste kiss on the back of her hand. afterwards and maybe a little nervously, he'll mumble -- ]
no subject
his smile widens as she passes on making fun of him, feeling warmed over it and grateful. he could take it, of course, but in his relief to see her again... the slight sincerity here is much nicer. when she asks him of how he feels, the smile dips a little and he sighs, looking towards the dirt again. ]
I keep thinking of Jack. He was my... hero, my mentor and I tried so hard to be him when I was home, even here I always thought "what would Jack do," right? But... Jack died. He died doing what he thought was right but it hurt a lot of people in the process and they took the matters into their own hands. They killed his daughter first, you know. Then they killed him, left his corpse alone to rot in the middle of some volcano somewhere. Took his mask as some kind of freakin' trophy.
[ and when it's said like that, it does sound kind of vile, doesn't it? rhys is bitter and can't help but see the comparisons in his death to jack's, in his situation to jack's. it makes for a really sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, a feeling he'd like to forget.
so he steps a bit closer to morrigan, standing in front of where she sits and he stares down at their clasped hands, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. ]
But... I'm not Jack. I died doing what I thought was right, sure, but I'm not completely alone, am I? And maybe everything hasn't completely gone to shit, right? There's some good things about being dead here, I think.
[ he looks up from their hands then to morrigan, meets her eyes and gives another smile before, with a bit of a flush to his face, he lifts their clasped hands and presses a sweet, chaste kiss on the back of her hand. afterwards and maybe a little nervously, he'll mumble -- ]
It's really good to see you again, Morrigan.