"Eeeeeeeh! You know the drill. You yap and yap and yap until the fuuuuck-in' beepity boop. And who knows? If your voice doesn't annoy the shit out of me, I miiiight just call ya back!"
[Rex looks away, nose wrinkling, lines forming around his mouth.
He folds his arms like an impudent child, realizing what he's just confessed to. It's not as though he doesn't trust the other Guardians. Wildly enough, following an initial onslaught of unpleasant barbs accompanied by an outright dismissal of authority, Rex had done his best to keep the team together in his own way. Samson has the demeanor of a drill sergeant and Robot's hyperfixation on productivity lacks a human element. In that regard, Rex at least understands how to kick back and connect on a personal level... When he actually tries.
Still, without Eve, things just don't feel the same.
[ Each man copes in his own way, but Obi-Wan has a sense Rex has never been offered the opportunity to even try something other than to keep staggering forward, carrying everything with no break. Maybe it makes a certain kind of sense that his affinity would be explosive — this much feeling bottled up with no outlet is eventually going to explode.
In lieu of saying anything, Rex retreats into himself. Obi-Wan, leaning back with one ankle crossed over a knee and one arm flung along the back of the seat, only tilts his head. His expression gentles around the lines of his eyes.
He could call him back, but Obi-Wan expects this would then turn into a fight — and a fight is the last thing he is trying for. Stars know he's put his foot in his mouth enough times with Anakin. Maybe that self-awareness is what prevents him from provoking Rex now. He came here to apologize, after all.
No, he thinks as he watches Rex rise, that's enough for now. It's only as the boy moves toward the door and the steam becomes a thicker curtain between them, giving the illusion of privacy and the excuse to not hear him at all, that Obi-Wan speaks: ]
[He pauses his huffy exeunt briefly, shifting his gaze downwards as he attempts to get good look at his feet, which is a tad difficult, seeing as those thunder-thighs of his engulf so much surface area. The Jedi's voice is kind, and the man genuinely seems to want to encourage him, but what if he knew?
What if he knew that, if Rex could turn back time and refuse the deal that resulted in so much garish death and bloodshed, he probably wouldn't? Because he would have been without a future, provided no exit from his life of poverty and neglectful household, dead from starvation or incarcerated for petty crimes. He could make the argument that he'd undergo the operation and then fight his captors, before anyone else had to die, but Radcliffe's demise had been an accident, something the terrifying man in a suit never saw coming. Rex had become strong, powerful even...
But only to a point. He succeeded in beating out a number of other superheroes to earn his place amongst the Guardians of the Globe, only to be pulverized and humiliated publicly. Sure, it was his fault for being an asshole, but when will he ever know what it's like? To be truly invincible?
He will only have to work harder. As he stands now, he is unfit to defend the Earth from the horrors of the universe. The team's last scuffle with that overgrown hairball made that clear enough.]
I don't think I can.
[Rex allows himself to let out a sigh before leaving at last, the silhouette of his broad shoulders heaving visible through the steamy haze.]
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no subject
He folds his arms like an impudent child, realizing what he's just confessed to. It's not as though he doesn't trust the other Guardians. Wildly enough, following an initial onslaught of unpleasant barbs accompanied by an outright dismissal of authority, Rex had done his best to keep the team together in his own way. Samson has the demeanor of a drill sergeant and Robot's hyperfixation on productivity lacks a human element. In that regard, Rex at least understands how to kick back and connect on a personal level... When he actually tries.
Still, without Eve, things just don't feel the same.
Suddenly, Rex rises to his feet.]
I think I've sweat it out enough for one day.
no subject
In lieu of saying anything, Rex retreats into himself. Obi-Wan, leaning back with one ankle crossed over a knee and one arm flung along the back of the seat, only tilts his head. His expression gentles around the lines of his eyes.
He could call him back, but Obi-Wan expects this would then turn into a fight — and a fight is the last thing he is trying for. Stars know he's put his foot in his mouth enough times with Anakin. Maybe that self-awareness is what prevents him from provoking Rex now. He came here to apologize, after all.
No, he thinks as he watches Rex rise, that's enough for now. It's only as the boy moves toward the door and the steam becomes a thicker curtain between them, giving the illusion of privacy and the excuse to not hear him at all, that Obi-Wan speaks: ]
Rest those legs of yours, Rex.
no subject
What if he knew that, if Rex could turn back time and refuse the deal that resulted in so much garish death and bloodshed, he probably wouldn't? Because he would have been without a future, provided no exit from his life of poverty and neglectful household, dead from starvation or incarcerated for petty crimes. He could make the argument that he'd undergo the operation and then fight his captors, before anyone else had to die, but Radcliffe's demise had been an accident, something the terrifying man in a suit never saw coming. Rex had become strong, powerful even...
But only to a point. He succeeded in beating out a number of other superheroes to earn his place amongst the Guardians of the Globe, only to be pulverized and humiliated publicly. Sure, it was his fault for being an asshole, but when will he ever know what it's like? To be truly invincible?
He will only have to work harder. As he stands now, he is unfit to defend the Earth from the horrors of the universe. The team's last scuffle with that overgrown hairball made that clear enough.]
I don't think I can.
[Rex allows himself to let out a sigh before leaving at last, the silhouette of his broad shoulders heaving visible through the steamy haze.]