[Rip—well. He can’t exactly argue against Mick’s assertion that the honest offer would have received a refusal. Not that he wouldn’t have appreciated it (as he does now), but the work remains unfinished, and Rip’s priorities have not changed. His desire is to escape this prison and finish his mission, and while it might all turn out to be a futile effort, the last thing Rip wants to do is feel like he’s accepting the fate of being trapped here.
Not when it seems so much like becoming a puppet once more.
Yet he also can’t deny that this brand of comradery means a great deal to him, particularly given all each man has gone through, what they have lost thanks to Rip’s bringing them on board the ship. Perhaps it is not trust, exactly, but it falls close enough to friendship for Rip to be thankful for it.
All thoughts which go unsaid; instead Rip merely tilts his head to the side, his mouth briefly drawn in a tight line in silent admission that yeah, Mick’s probably right. Far be it from him to admit that, however.]
Is that what you gambled for? [Rip’s eyes widen momentarily before a hint of a smirk plays over his lips.] Suddenly I find myself not minding the jog nearly so much at all.
[Because seriously, Rip’s on Leonard’s side here. This room is terrible.
He keeps his hands folded together while Leonard deals, patient enough to wait until they’ve all gotten their cards before he reaches for his. The question causes him to look up at Leonard, his face carefully neutral before casting a glance towards Mick.
Timelines. Right.]
I spent a fair deal of time in era of the American Old West, as a matter of fact. [Something which Leonard knows but Mick has yet to experience.] Granted, not everyone there is what you’d call a “card shark,” but I did learn a few things about poker.
[Including some tricks that don’t fall in line with the rules. Considering who he’s playing with, however? Rip suspects it would be unwise not to use them.]
no subject
Not when it seems so much like becoming a puppet once more.
Yet he also can’t deny that this brand of comradery means a great deal to him, particularly given all each man has gone through, what they have lost thanks to Rip’s bringing them on board the ship. Perhaps it is not trust, exactly, but it falls close enough to friendship for Rip to be thankful for it.
All thoughts which go unsaid; instead Rip merely tilts his head to the side, his mouth briefly drawn in a tight line in silent admission that yeah, Mick’s probably right. Far be it from him to admit that, however.]
Is that what you gambled for? [Rip’s eyes widen momentarily before a hint of a smirk plays over his lips.] Suddenly I find myself not minding the jog nearly so much at all.
[Because seriously, Rip’s on Leonard’s side here. This room is terrible.
He keeps his hands folded together while Leonard deals, patient enough to wait until they’ve all gotten their cards before he reaches for his. The question causes him to look up at Leonard, his face carefully neutral before casting a glance towards Mick.
Timelines. Right.]
I spent a fair deal of time in era of the American Old West, as a matter of fact. [Something which Leonard knows but Mick has yet to experience.] Granted, not everyone there is what you’d call a “card shark,” but I did learn a few things about poker.
[Including some tricks that don’t fall in line with the rules. Considering who he’s playing with, however? Rip suspects it would be unwise not to use them.]