[It isn't pity, however, not exactly or entirely. Rip rests his hands on his hips as Rocket tries to brush it aside, to act as if in the end it's inconsequential to let himself feel the sorrow of loss, the worry that comes from an unknown future.

Rip could leave it be. Perhaps he should. But given that Rocket has offered to share something so vulnerable--an act which Rip suspects he doesn't do easily--it feels wrong not to at least tell him of their common ground.]

My wife and son were murdered. [He says it softly, only after casting a glance towards the door to ensure they are still alone. Like Rocket, Rip's gaze then falls on something harmless, inconsequential: in his case, the far wall.] Shortly before I was drawn here, I learned that I truly would not be able to save them from that fate. Yet the man responsible still lives, in my world.

[He pauses for a moment; Rip cannot think of Vandal Savage without the man's face flashing in his mind. In turn, he needs a breath to subdue that instinctive surge of anger--which is entirely the point.]

Perhaps it's because I've only been here a handful of months that I think this way, but...whether or not it's worth it, I doubt I will ever stop hating whatever powers brought me here for delaying my efforts to avenge them.