[ In other circumstances, the whole magic thing would've given him pause. Right now, though, Rhys doesn't give a crap what it's called as long as he just keeps doing it. His eyes follow Charlie's up to the ceiling. Great, great, he's literally going to be swinging from a chandelier. Or, you know, a tasteful-but-boring light fixture. He climbs up on top of a desk, bitterly muttering ] It doesn't work on anything living. Of course it doesn't.

[ He reaches up, then pauses. ]

Do not throw this with me on it. I feel like I shouldn't have to say that. But, uh, you'd be surprised. Just... covering my bases.

[ He stands out as a target now, so that's incentive enough to work fast. He reaches up again, cybernetic hand and flesh hand — oh, no, this is going to be hot, isn't it, but it's too late to stop; the light is still a bit too high to reach, so he just takes a leap of faith, somewhat literally. The good thing is that having his entire body weight hanging from the light really helps bring it down. The bad thing is that it's not much of a smooth landing. ]

Aahhh, that's hot, that's hot, bad idea to use the normal hand, too. [ Rhys points to the wires like Look, I did good!!! There's still a snag as far as he's concerned, though. ] What, exactly, is the plan with the wires?