Rhys might not be as badly hurt as some of the others, but the night has still taken its toll. With his back messed up by the new tail, his head a raw, pounding mess, and the even greater mental strain of trying to care for who he can through the bars, it's been a long, miserable night and what little rest he's getting is broken by thoughts of what the next phase will bring.

He has some pretty clear ideas of how they could continue the devil theme, if they're so inclined, and all of them are horrible. Seeing the extent of the others' surgeries has only fueled that, and by the time Manny comes in, Rhys is in not nearly as level spirits as he was before.

"'Holding up.'" Sullen blue eyes stare through the bars at Manny, but he doesn't even bother getting up. He's not moving, except for the agitated twitching of the tail he can't control. His voice is flat, drained of all emotions but a thread of scorn.

"Pretty good. I miss my fucking hair, but sacrifices gotta be made, right?"

"Sacrifices are things you give willingly for things you believe in. Violation is things that are taken from you without your consent."

Still cold, still glaring, but he's keeping the pure fury under wraps for now. He was able to keep cool enough with America to lead him, to try and manipulate him, but there's too much bottled up here to be able to manage that now. The best he can manage is not throwing himself at the bars in a rage, and that's a small victory.

He raises his still-raw hands, too exposed to even think about scabbing over. "That's it, then? All I have to do is say 'Yay Prophet' and it's all over? You heal me up and we're all one big happy torture-family? Maybe I get a scalpel of my own to start cutting people up with, too?"

Rhys would sit patiently at Manny's feet, but he can't sit because there's a fucking tail stapled to his back. So he shifts to lay a little more facing Manny, and sighs, pressing his fingers to his eyelids.

It is probably the most willpower he's needed since this began, to keep his voice calm and level, to ratchet back the spite and anger.

"Okay. How about you explain it to me, then? Nice and slow. Because maybe I'm just not seeing it."

Pretending, or gathering information, or just trying to make some goddamn sense of this entire pile of shit. Though there may be limits to how much he's going to listen to.

"Blessed are the broken." The bitterness spills out in those words, because he knows where this goes. What happens when you let something else crawl inside you. "We're useless to you, all busted up like this."

"And you picked out special breaking especially for each of us." He gestures to the horns, and the tail.

If he's going to suffer through this, he is at least going to try and understand it. And maybe how.

Because this is inside his head. This is inside his past. And if he's going to wake up in a cold sweat for nights to come, screaming obscenities at his father like he did when he was 19 and sleeping in the street, he'd like to know why.

Mind control? Rhys is having a hard time, but he's trying.

He's still not sure if he's going to kill Manny or not if he gets his hands on him. Not for what he did to Rhys, but for Vasquez's sake, for everyone else's sake. For anyone who didn't make it through surgery, for...just to make things quiet again.

Ours to pull but not to cut.

He's feeling a little sick again, but he really doesn't feel like letting the other man see him shuffle over to the sink to drink.

"Sounds like you're the one that got a special honor, then. Being 'chosen' to do Her work."

If he's ever back to normal they can talk about it and at least probably not with a claw hammer.

Rhys just grunts again. If he were in his own world, with his Sight and powers, this is where he'd start cutting through the tangled, nasty black threads of control magic, unwrapping the spell wrapped around Manny's mind, because this kind of blank, cheerful devotion is usually that sort of magic, the kind that winds its way around the psyche and chokes it until nothing is left but blind devotion.

This was the kind of magic that cost Rhys half his eyesight, and it sends a cold shock of both disgust and pity. But he can't do anything right now, so he lets it go.

"Yeah. Well, I could have done without the honor. I've already got a goddess, and she doesn't like to share."

He doesn't have much more to say on the topic, so if Manny wants to move on until the next little bonding session of theirs? It won't bother Rhys. He's tired.

Rest. That sounds good, but his eyes narrow as Manny turns to leave.

"Yeah. And I bet if I'm not, you'll be 'opening me up' again later anyway."

The words are sour and cutting, and Rhys can't turn himself over in the condition he's in, but he closes his eyes to signal that he's completely done for the moment.