Olympia. Cool. Anyplace that isn't this gigantic sweaty sack of a nation is fiiiiine with me.
And you're thinking short-term here, babe. There's something people will always need no matter what state they're in, and that's guns. Haven't seen a single one since I got here, so the market is ripe - we get a couple investors backing us, we whip up some basic pistols, BAM. We make some money, Lutece and I have the funding we need for making the really cool stuff, everybody wins.
Besides, I hear this place is practically stewing in civil unrest. We'll make a name for ourselves, then when we have stock, we sell to the highest bidder.
I mean, it's not actually FUNDING funding, I'm working out of my own pocket here, but it'll keep things moving until I can find some real investors. Which shouldn't be hard, considering how it's way easier to put a hole in somebody with a bullet instead of a spear or whatever. They'll freakin' love it!
See, Rhys? Chance of a lifetime. And if you do exactly what I tell you to, I might just put off asking some questions you might not like answering.
Like when you were texting Tim and thought you were talking to me. 'member what you asked him, kiddo? "You don't remember me?" Any of this a-ringin' a bell?
[ NOPE I LIED, PANIC PANIC PANIC RHYS NEEDS TO ABORT ]
That was nothing! I mean of course you don't remember me why would you remember me you're Handsome Jack and I'm just some programmer It's not like you remembered Hugo either right But yeah let's just that business opportunity yeah that sounds good let's just do that
Two, I don't buy that shit for a hot fucking second, Rhysie. Rhys-o. Rizzmatizz. You think I don't notice how you act around me? It's different. You're not pants-crappingly terrified, you're not begging to lick my shoes, you're not making some sad attempt at emulating me to be my best pal. You're just uneasy. You don't call me sir Mr. Handsome Jack sir like a mindless Hyperion peon, you call me by name. Like we're equals or something. Like you know me.
I think you're holding a few things back from me, Rhys. And I don't appreciate it.
[ Is there a dialogue option where Rhys just pees himself? because I feel like that should be a thing right here. Rhys reads that message and his blood runs cold.
This is the Jack he's only met once. The real Jack, the one behind the charisma and the attitude and the flawless, million-dollar grins (and you know, he wouldn't doubt it "million dollar" was literal when it comes to Jack). This is the man that was willing to kill Rhys even if it meant killing himself, just to get revenge. This was the Jack that tried to strangle him and cut him open and wear him like a goddamn suit.
Rhys's pupils are mere dots by the time he finishes, heart a jack rabbit inside his chest. His palms feel cold and sweaty and all Rhys can think is that he's gone and totally fucked up. He is so dead. ]
Yeah. We'll be great friends.
[ It feels like he signs his goddamn soul away with those words. Rhys really, really need to call Rosalind and tell her to stop giving Jack his number. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
And you're thinking short-term here, babe. There's something people will always need no matter what state they're in, and that's guns. Haven't seen a single one since I got here, so the market is ripe - we get a couple investors backing us, we whip up some basic pistols, BAM. We make some money, Lutece and I have the funding we need for making the really cool stuff, everybody wins.
Besides, I hear this place is practically stewing in civil unrest. We'll make a name for ourselves, then when we have stock, we sell to the highest bidder.
[ WHO WANTS TO MAKE A NEW PANDORA. ]
no subject
[ WEE WOO WEE FUCKING WOOOOO?? ]
no subject
I mean, it's not actually FUNDING funding, I'm working out of my own pocket here, but it'll keep things moving until I can find some real investors. Which shouldn't be hard, considering how it's way easier to put a hole in somebody with a bullet instead of a spear or whatever. They'll freakin' love it!
See, Rhys? Chance of a lifetime. And if you do exactly what I tell you to, I might just put off asking some questions you might not like answering.
Like when you were texting Tim and thought you were talking to me. 'member what you asked him, kiddo? "You don't remember me?" Any of this a-ringin' a bell?
[ WEE WOO WEE WOO WEE WOO ]
no subject
[ NOPE I LIED, PANIC PANIC PANIC RHYS NEEDS TO ABORT ]
That was nothing!
I mean of course you don't remember me why would you remember me you're Handsome Jack and I'm just some programmer
It's not like you remembered Hugo either right
But yeah let's just
that business opportunity yeah that sounds good let's just do
that
1/2
Two, I don't buy that shit for a hot fucking second, Rhysie. Rhys-o. Rizzmatizz. You think I don't notice how you act around me? It's different. You're not pants-crappingly terrified, you're not begging to lick my shoes, you're not making some sad attempt at emulating me to be my best pal. You're just uneasy. You don't call me sir Mr. Handsome Jack sir like a mindless Hyperion peon, you call me by name. Like we're equals or something. Like you know me.
I think you're holding a few things back from me, Rhys. And I don't appreciate it.
[ INFINITE WEE WOO ]
no subject
Aren't we?
[ SPOILERS he's not just a dumb dick-joke spewing jackass, he's actually just as perceptive and manipulative as ever.
GOOD TIMES. ]
no subject
This is the Jack he's only met once. The real Jack, the one behind the charisma and the attitude and the flawless, million-dollar grins (and you know, he wouldn't doubt it "million dollar" was literal when it comes to Jack). This is the man that was willing to kill Rhys even if it meant killing himself, just to get revenge. This was the Jack that tried to strangle him and cut him open and wear him like a goddamn suit.
Rhys's pupils are mere dots by the time he finishes, heart a jack rabbit inside his chest. His palms feel cold and sweaty and all Rhys can think is that he's gone and totally fucked up. He is so dead. ]
Yeah.
We'll be great friends.
[ It feels like he signs his goddamn soul away with those words. Rhys really, really need to call Rosalind and tell her to stop giving Jack his number. ]
no subject
ttyl.
[ With his daily quota of one (1) life ruined, Jack is comfortable going off to... ruin another life, probably. ]