"That's why I wanted to know if I should have a way to snap you out of it," Ulysse shrugs, continuing to watch Rook's face closely to make sure he's not going to accidentally upset the man. The fighter is clearly still torn up about the accident and thinks he's dangerous, even if Ulysse himself is fast coming to the opinion that Rook is definitely not a killer. "I've seen men go berserk when pushed enough, and I don't want you coming up for air and finding blood on your hands."
Chewing thoughtfully on his next mouthful of gumbo, he glances over behind the bar, still pondering over things. "... Should I keep a bucket of ice water ready to throw on you?"
There's a moment of silence as Rook's eye twitches as he looks down at the glasses behind the bar, then his mouth twitches too, and a brief moment later he's laughing, head thrown back and grinning widely.
Like dogs fighting. Throwing ice water on them.
He leans on the counter, head hanging low between his shoulders as he shakes his head, glancing up at Ulysse only to end up with a few more chortles that shake his shoulders.
"Darlin', if you need to pull me back from the brink, more shock value isn't gonna do it," Rook mumbles, aiming for something more serious. "Just tell me I'm going too far. I'll believe you."
He's putting quite a bit of trust in Ulysse's hands in there. Not to mention admitting that just seeing him would probably break through whatever haze.
"... Are you sure?" Ulysse asks, uncertain but willing to take Rook on his word. He's also a little distracted from the pure delight he'd witnessed just now as Rook laughed so freely. Much like himself, he suspects Rook's not the sort to laugh all that often and he feels so strangely privileged to have been able to see it, especially so early in their working relationship.
He smiles a bit to himself without realising it, content in seeing that Rook must feel at least somewhat enough at ease to let such reactions out unhindered.
Sobering up, because no, laughing like that is definitely not usual for Rook and it's gone so quickly it's hard to really remember it even happening while looking at the mean looking man. Rook is silent for a bit, then looks up at Ulysse from the glasses on the counter.
"I'll let you in on a secret," he says quietly. "The only reason I'll be losing control of myself is if there's imminent life threatening danger. Where I grew up, you kinda had to look over your shoulder and be ready to fight. So, that kind of mentality isn't going away with shock. It'll double down."
Ulysse can understand that much. He'd seen enough violence in the Keys, moreso when he'd fallen in with Anton's crowd. While he himself had never had to fight that hard to survive, it had been a close thing, and he's forever grateful his brothers didn't give up on him and managed to get him out and to safety before it was too late.
He stares at Rook with soft and sombre eyes that are full of empathy and he nods. "All right. If it gets that bad, I'll get everyone clear of you." And try to stop Rook, if the man actually was telling the truth that he would hear Ulysse telling him he's going too far.
Rook is quiet as he takes in that look in those velvet dark eyes. Maybe he could tell this man all about the fight, or the fights in his youth. It seems possible, but who is he to do that here? Build that sort of rapport with a man, who is supposed to be his boss.
With a sigh, he shakes his head. "If I couldn't handle it, I wouldn't put myself in this kind of position. You don't have to worry about me," he promises quietly. "And if you truly do do worry, you shouldn't hire me. What kind of bouncer is looked after by their boss to make sure they don't melt in a bar fight?"
"A careful one," Ulysse counters, lips twitching in a faint smile before he resumes poking at his gumbo. "Everyone's capable of losing control. You just happen to be more dangerous than others when you do, like most bouncers are. I don't think it's such a bad thing for the boss to check their bouncer to make sure things don't go too far, right?"
He sets down his spoon and fixes Rook with an intent stare. "I'm trusting you to look after my bar. I don't see a problem in you trusting me to look after you in turn."
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"That's why I wanted to know if I should have a way to snap you out of it," Ulysse shrugs, continuing to watch Rook's face closely to make sure he's not going to accidentally upset the man. The fighter is clearly still torn up about the accident and thinks he's dangerous, even if Ulysse himself is fast coming to the opinion that Rook is definitely not a killer. "I've seen men go berserk when pushed enough, and I don't want you coming up for air and finding blood on your hands."
Chewing thoughtfully on his next mouthful of gumbo, he glances over behind the bar, still pondering over things. "... Should I keep a bucket of ice water ready to throw on you?"
no subject
Like dogs fighting. Throwing ice water on them.
He leans on the counter, head hanging low between his shoulders as he shakes his head, glancing up at Ulysse only to end up with a few more chortles that shake his shoulders.
"Darlin', if you need to pull me back from the brink, more shock value isn't gonna do it," Rook mumbles, aiming for something more serious. "Just tell me I'm going too far. I'll believe you."
He's putting quite a bit of trust in Ulysse's hands in there. Not to mention admitting that just seeing him would probably break through whatever haze.
no subject
"... Are you sure?" Ulysse asks, uncertain but willing to take Rook on his word. He's also a little distracted from the pure delight he'd witnessed just now as Rook laughed so freely. Much like himself, he suspects Rook's not the sort to laugh all that often and he feels so strangely privileged to have been able to see it, especially so early in their working relationship.
He smiles a bit to himself without realising it, content in seeing that Rook must feel at least somewhat enough at ease to let such reactions out unhindered.
no subject
"I'll let you in on a secret," he says quietly. "The only reason I'll be losing control of myself is if there's imminent life threatening danger. Where I grew up, you kinda had to look over your shoulder and be ready to fight. So, that kind of mentality isn't going away with shock. It'll double down."
no subject
Ulysse can understand that much. He'd seen enough violence in the Keys, moreso when he'd fallen in with Anton's crowd. While he himself had never had to fight that hard to survive, it had been a close thing, and he's forever grateful his brothers didn't give up on him and managed to get him out and to safety before it was too late.
He stares at Rook with soft and sombre eyes that are full of empathy and he nods. "All right. If it gets that bad, I'll get everyone clear of you." And try to stop Rook, if the man actually was telling the truth that he would hear Ulysse telling him he's going too far.
no subject
With a sigh, he shakes his head. "If I couldn't handle it, I wouldn't put myself in this kind of position. You don't have to worry about me," he promises quietly. "And if you truly do do worry, you shouldn't hire me. What kind of bouncer is looked after by their boss to make sure they don't melt in a bar fight?"
no subject
"A careful one," Ulysse counters, lips twitching in a faint smile before he resumes poking at his gumbo. "Everyone's capable of losing control. You just happen to be more dangerous than others when you do, like most bouncers are. I don't think it's such a bad thing for the boss to check their bouncer to make sure things don't go too far, right?"
He sets down his spoon and fixes Rook with an intent stare. "I'm trusting you to look after my bar. I don't see a problem in you trusting me to look after you in turn."