Completed Dampened Spirits

[Ricky Maze]

"What happened?" It was the question Ricky expected to hear after finally letting the artist know what haunted him, but no matter how hard he tried to prepare an answer nothing allowed it to do so. He still wasn't able to face the truth, but how much longer could he turn away from it? "I..." He lost the ability to speak as a lump filled his throat, jammed there by the heartache of the recent past he couldn't seem to move from. The world became blurry as his eyes filled with tears, but he wouldn't let them escape from within. He would choke them back and force himself to speak, he wouldn't look weaker than he already did in front of a friend. "I failed him." He clenched his right hand as he remembered the intensity for revenge, even though he brought the scum to justice nothing would change what had happened. "A friend and I; we found a slaver's den, fought to save the kids.... I wasn't.... I couldn't..." The shame he felt was now clear in his eyes, as a few tears finally escaped from his eyes. "Odis tried to protect me, but when it should've been me he paid the price. It was him that died because o' me, because I..." He nested his face, mainly his eyes, in his hands to keep Valo from seeing him break even further. "I wasn't strong enough, or good enough to protect him." He kept his breathing slow, but they were deeper than average breaths. They were almost sighs, to keep him from crying before the artist. Ricky didn't want to appear so weak or vulnerable in front of the man but the task of holding in all the emotion and stress became taxing. The struggle to remain strong and independent was even more difficult without his furry companion around, now even more because he had only pride left in life when everything else seemed to matter little.

[Valo]

It was too risqué a question and the minute it escaped from Valo's lips, he found him self wishing that he hadn't said it. That he could have kept his mouth shut, for what his eyes saw tore with great sadness at his heart strings. Cruel it was, this sadness, for there was no greater tragedy than that which strikes a friend. No greater sadness that lingers in the hearts of those we care about. Fate has it's ways of crashing upon good men.

A thin film of glisten became present in Ricky's eyes. Blood shot veins that sprouted and snaked from the corners, furthering their grasp with each choked word. A great manifestation of pain on the face of a man who seemed a rock. But rocks cry too, it seems and it is water that carves those rocks.

As Ricky spoke of the terrible fate that befell him and his beloved friend, Valo's entire expression dropped as his ridiculously graphic imagination plaid it's ghastly game with the artist. For mere moments he was there. Though the eyes of his own imagination he saw the attacker and Ricky and the dog, slain in utmost cruelty. He saw the great pain and the life that escaped, a flame stomped out so unjustly. Horribly inaccurate perhaps, was the imagination of the artist, but his intention was good. An inability to stop this flaw of imagery as if perhaps story was being red to him, the aid of illustration in Valo's own mind. A deep sympathy in his chest. What a terrible fate. How the world raises us and then breaks us?

There were tears in Ricky's eyes as he lowered his head to his palms in desperation to hold back the grief and the emotion. A desperation to spit out the very last words of this tragedy. And the artist too was overwhelmed by this profound grief, despite not having known the dog. A soft heart is what beat in the cavity of his chest.

"It's not your fault Ricky." he whispered in the silence that now engulfed them. The conversations and voices of the other patrons now melted into the background, becoming nothing but a buzz, as if the artist and the sailor were submerged under water, for between them there was silence. And though Valo had been desperate to somehow help his comrade, he felt that his words would do no good. Not yet ready to admit defeat, but completely helpless is what he was.

However there was one more emotion that lingered deep in the pit of Valo's stomach, though he tried no to think of it and that was annoyance with Ricky. Annoyance that he would blame himself so recklessly for the sacrifice on the behalf of his dog. A sacrifice of love which should be cherished and remembered with reverence, not such morose self hate. Such blame, for the blame was not for Ricky. Valo had no moral ground however to speak upon such matters and so he remained silent. Perhaps he knew not what he was talking about.

[Ricky Maze]

It was a whisper that couldn't have been ever more softer, the words felt as though a sharp knife were bound to cut paper. "It's not your fault Ricky." "It's... pickled herrings, of course it's my fault. I wasn't good enough to protect him, and so it's my petching fault." He finally allowed himself to look upon his concerned friend once more, and wiped away all possible traces of tears before anymore managed to escape. He didn't plan to stick around any longer, not when he looked so pathetic in front of another. "I gotta..." He took a moment to let it sink in, the idea of facing the haunting nightmare in order to get sleep. It was enough to make him resort to another mug of Kelp Beer. "Get some shut eye." He managed to finish as he stood up, he grabbed his coat and folded it over his arm. Should Valo choose to say anything Ricky would listen, but his intention was to disappear for the night. Hopefully he would actually sleep through the night and find everything all a nightmare, but too many times now he had thought of this; the reality of it finally started to sink in.

[Valo]

An explosion of regret. An explosion of anguish fell upon Valo like a rain of burning bolts, expelled from the many cross bows of Ricky's depression. "It's... pickled herrings, of course it's my fault. I wasn't good enough to protect him, and it's my petching fault." words placing the fool which was Valo back in his place. Words that shut him up. And perhaps not spoken in a malevolent manner, no yelling, no violence. The words however, somehow still managed to be saturated by anguish and fell heavily upon everything around them. It seemed sadness knew no mercy.

Valo's very mind went numb. Eyes wide open for he had only now realised of the magnitude of the stupidity that came from his lips. The words that he simply could not comprehend, spoken in good intention, but void of coherent and logical thought. For if he had thought logicically about what it was that he said, he would not have said it at all. A fool, drowning in something that was beyond him. But if he was to go down, he'd go down a good man.

Eyes now locked with Ricky's, watching as the man wiped away his secret tears. The subtle yellowing still remained within them as the veins propelled themselves to the surface. Impossible it was to hide the man's anguish. Truly impossible. A million thoughts seemed to flow before those eyes like ghosts, dancing in their mockery of the fisherman. At least that's what Valo saw. He saw a broken man who was a victim to this cruel fate of him. A man so caught up in his idea of strength, that he refused to open up to the one person before whom he needed not to hide. The one man who would listen without a thought of judgement or ridicule. The one man who's go to all lengths to help, even if he was unable to do so. A man who wanted perhaps nothing else and alas, a man who was perhaps most useless in the situation.

The artist watched as the bear man arose from his chair, grabbing his coat and folding it over his arm. The way that a near right angle around his elbow was formed by such a manner. The groggy aura about him, clear intention to simply disappear, away from the world and away from Valo and the artist saw that and it hurt him, but his own hurt didn't matter now, for truly he would understand that he was hardly the medicine at such a time. And wish a subtle, forced smile about the corners of his lip, a fake pleasantry to mask his worry for it seemed Ricky had enough of his own problems for Valo to become yet another one. And with that he arose him self and nodded to the bear man before he disappeared. "Good night Ricky. And..." a brief pause before carrying on. "I'm sorry."

[Jester]

Thread Graded!! Ricky : XP Awarded +1 Socialization +1 Drinking +2 Storytelling Lores Awarded Valo Knows of the Nightmares Nightmares are Better than Speaking with Tears Valo : XP Awarded +2 Observation +2 Socialization +1 Painting Lores Awarded Knowledge of Color Theory The Tragedy of Odis' Death Notes : Fun thread Hope everyone is happy "The difference between a jester and a fool is that the jester knows he's a jester" DISCLAIMER: If you think I have been foolish in grading your thread, don't hesitate to PM me. I am happy to take another look at anything you feel is in error, but keep in mind the other Storytellers and I have final say.