Closed Wide awake [Ricky]

[Valo]

3rd Spring 513AV
Kelp Bar
Late evening

Belief is not consubstantial with the fabric of reality, nor is it based upon no evidence. Belief is simple and defiant of all. Sometimes however, one must see to believe...

Had Valo truly thought over his decision before he made it with such reckless haste? To state that would be a life, for the consequence was not known to him. At first it seemed a blessing, than a curse, than a blessing again. The pendulum of names for this mark of his had swung relentlessly between the two extremes. But one thing was for certain now. There was no turning back.

Rarely did he venture into the streets of Zletiva in daylight. In fact this present hours was one too early for him, despite the sun already shying away behind the edge of the horizon. He however, had a need. And he would go where it took him. And where it did take him, was the Kelp Bar in the late hours of the evening, when the hustle and bustle of the old place would die down. His need was kelp beer. A wretched substance, yet one he could not imagine life without. Little did he know of the terrible realisation that lingered in the nearest future, dancing it's merry mocking dance upon the pages of his timeline. For if there was anything to provide him simple peace for a couple of hours, than kelp beer would do.

Clad in black which obscured his feature, the man resided himself in the very dimmest corner of the Kelp Bar. The third large mug of beer at his lips already, drunk with utmost haste but no affect had been registered upon him yet. Wide awake, was the artist. White fingers grasping at the vessel with a degree of grace. Slumped in his chair, Valo awaited the alcohol to finally hit him, but the more he drank, the greater a premonition lingered that perhaps something wasn't right. He should be feeling the affects by now. At least the vague outline of dizziness in his head.

Another mug, eyes of patrons gazed at his with suspicion and unease. A stranger, completely masked by clothing. then again, in retrospect of the recent events, he could just as easily blame his attire upon the fear of plague, who's residual ghost still haunted the minds of Zeltiva's people. A sickness so great, it had the city on it's knees. It's only natural that one would take the necessary precaution in the most superstitious way. If someone was to ask, that's precisely what he would say for it seemed lying became an easy endeavour as of late. Luck, perhaps it was that the artist needed not cater to the curiosity of others. But luck was not on his side, for with yet another mug of beer, he was no closer to drunkenness that before he even too the wretched substance to his lips. Perhaps his body needed time to adjust tot he alcohol. The artist remained hopeful.

But in his hopefulness, he also grew restless, anxious to leave the company of eyes which looked upon him from beneath furrowed brows. Anxious to return to the safety of his paint and his own company. A few friends of his had the habit of lingering about these parts of the city and running into those was something so far from desire, he could simply not bare to break the hearts of those dearest to him. He could not show them his eyes of burning red. He could not tell them of his death. Than again, was avoiding those he loved really such a wonderful idea? Surely if he so simply vanished, at least someone would worry... right? Someone would miss him! Someone had to miss him! Would anyone miss him?

Alas, after the last mug of beer had been emptied and to no avail, Valo simply abandoned the correct sum on the table and proceeded towards the door. A deathly white hand reaching out, swinging the obstacle open, before the evening air ruffled though his clothing. Those that had been observant, gazed in awe at just how white that hand truly was. Paper white, for 'pale' or 'of ivory' were terms simply insufficient in description. And, as if defiant of the artist's wish to keep in hiding, like a snail beneath his shell of black, a mischievous strand of red fled from beneath the hood. A ruby scarlet in juxtaposition to otherwise the very lack of colour. With annoyance, that white hand reached to tuck it away behind his ear, before the door swung shut being him with an almost painful moan.

[Ricky Maze]

The sun had in fact met its match for the third time of the season, and just like it always did before it sunk below the horizon. The day tired it out just as the business that bustled through Zeltiva tired its locals, and like everyone else it disappeared to rest for the evening.

It was second nature for Ricky really, a predetermined mindset to at least keep a weary eye on his friends. He wouldn't want to risk losing anyone to any bad things now that he was getting back up on his feet, and so his reason for wanting to check on Valo tonight was ever more justified.

When he was close to the Kelp Bar a figure with pale hands had exited, a shroud that meant to remain hidden from the prying eyes of the curious no doubt. However Ricky knew all to well by the one small detail that stood out that the shrouded figure was Valo, and that was the crimson hair that managed to escape from under the hood. It was the signature that signed the contract of proof that his instinct was in fact correct, for what kind of fated friend didn't pay close attention to the little things that made the friendship important.

"Valo lad, I've been wonderin how ya been. Why're ya dressed like that?" He stated with enthusiasm as he made his approach, a friendly smile bright on his face.

[Valo]

In retrospect of the recent events, Ricky was perhaps the very last person who's company he had wished for. The bear man had been so good to him, such a truly wonderful friend. And what did he have to repay him with? Paper white skin and a pair of red eyes - and somewhere in the little alleys that branched off from East Street, there was residual blood between the knocks and crannies in the cobbles, washed away by the rains of passing days. Removed and forgotten.

As the man approached him, a face radiant with joy, the darkness which was Valo shuffled back until there was no father he could go. Trapped between the Kelp bar and Ricky he now was. "Valo lad, I've been wonderin how ya been. Why're ya dressed like that?" spoke the fisherman but he was not subjected to an answer from Valo's lips at first. Instead the artist took a degree of meticulous care to disguise his deathly pale skin. His eyes of glowing ember looked to Ricky, though the hood obscured that manic glow. Why now? Of all possible worst case scenarios, why this very moment?

In his mind, Valo wished for the skies to shake, the ground to part before swallowing him whole. Anything to escape this terribly awkward encounter. Any possible means to simply slide past his friend and escape to the streets there, much like a rat, he would hide from the onslaught of puzzled faces and prying eyes. For Zeltiva never had been one to pry. The city had a habit of ignorance until the very worst has happened. Zeltiva asked few questions. It simply turned the cheek. Ah how he wished that Ricky could simply turn the cheek and take the stance of blissful ignorance. How happy a man he'd be. But as he presumed was the same, that such liberty would not be granted to him. Ricky was too strong a character, especially in the retrospect of recent events.

When a man dies, the world does not stop. Time does not halt. Days keep rolling, events keep on happening and those who are left behind, continued to live. Now he lived among them with no wish to interact.

"I've been busy Ricky." he finally spoke in the honey smooth voice which bore a subtle accentuation of Nari. Yet somehow there was something profoundly melancholic in it now. Such perfect stillness as if the man himself was frozen in time. If Ricky had been observant, than he might have noticed that the man's chest bore no movement. Not even the slightest inflation or deflation of the lung. As still as only an undead could be. "Let our busyness be quick, for the day draws to an end."How it pained his to say such words with suck impassiveness. Such chill in his voice. Such downright rude manner. but it had to be done. He could not be discovered.

[Ricky Maze]

"I've been busy Ricky." Valo spoke and for some reason Ricky felt as if he sounded different, there was the trace of the old artistic friend he knew of course; but there was also something else. Something that was tied to the artist. 'Yeah busy drinkin the night away and hidin like yer a wanted criminal or some sort.' He thought to himself with a smirk and fists placed on his hips. "Let our business be quick, for the day draws to an end."

It caught him off guard that Valo would speak that way, because usually Valo would never be this impassive with him. Usually the two could engage in conversation right away. Ricky had the impressional vibe that something was wrong with Valo, and this impression made him feel the need to comfort Valo and see if he could learn what troubled the artist.

When Ricky took a step forward though was when he realized that Valo for some reason had moved back a couple steps, as in hide or retreat in some sort of manner. Ricky didn't understand this but knew better than to point it out so suddenly. Instead he remained where he was, a look of concern developed over what was once a cheery grin. "Valo... are you ok lad? Yer not actin like yer usual self that's for sure."

[Valo]

"I'm fine." was the immediate reply. And immediate it was, almost as if he had snapped at his friend, though his tone was never elevated. So terribly had he wished for Ricky to simply subside, to let him pass and be on his way? The artist simply wished to dissolve into the air, disappear like a ghost and then reappear somewhere else. So foolish had he been to wonder into these parts of Zeltiva. Not ready, he was, to reveal what had happened to him. Not ready to weaving himself back into the fabric of the city.

But when truly would he be ready? Surely, remaining in Zeltiva, he could not simply hide from his loved ones for eternity. Even in such a vast habitat, it seemed such was an impossibility. And Ricky had always been a good friend to him. The bear hadn't the habit of hiding his busyness from him, no matter how painful it was. Perhaps this was a test of their friendship. A chance to truly fathom how strong a thread bound them. Or perhaps it would be an abrupt end. But if so, than wasn't it better to simply have it all done and over with quickly? Thus, just like that, the artist’s mind was made.

Straightening his back, Valo looked to his friend from beneath the hood. A momentary study of Ricky's worried expression before he took a metaphorical leap forward with his words. A leap of faith. "Ricky." a pause as he swallowed, making sure that what he was doing really was the best option. A moment in which he could either decide to confess, of turn back and sever that which had been so important to him forever. But, as if guided by some force greater than him, or so he liked to think, the artist finally spoke in a hushed tone. "I do have something to tell you. Or rather, to show you. Come with me, I want no one but you to see."

[Ricky Maze]

"I'm fine." Valo remarked defensively, but his tone never rose. It was in that moment Ricky knew for sure, Valo was indeed hiding something. 'No yer not! If I didn't know any better then what kind of friend would I be?' He thought to himself with dismay in his expression, but the concern for a dear friend was far more present than anything. Finally the moment when Valo straightened came, and for some reason Ricky couldn't place he felt there was a deep change in Valo; a change he would soon find out.

"Ricky." Valo spoke softly, as if he were in a state of mind, one that sought out a will to face what may come. Such a thing was something Ricky felt prepared for, because the connectiom the guard and artist have has been one tested time and time again. Even if he couldn't predict the seriousness of the secret Valo sought to keep, but no matter how difficult it was to grasp he wouldn't judge his friend. He would keep an open mind, and an open heart. "I do have something to tell you. Or rather, to show you. Come with me, I want no one but you to see."

"Sure thing lad. Lead the way and I'll follow, ye know ya can count on me." He reassured his fated friend with a heartful expression, the concern in his eyes still ever present. No matter what happens Ricky would be there for his friends, he would be their defender. Their protecter. A sentinel meant to guard that which he cared about most.

[Valo]

The artist did not reply. Instead his motion was simplicity, a bow of his head which he so despondently his from his friend's eyes. Indeed hid it from the eyes of everyone. And without further ado, Valo simply stepped past Ricky and made his way towards the coast,towards those secluded placed in Mathews Bay where no one would interrupt their conversation. Those little places by the rolling waves, where two men could simply indulge in each other's company with no eyes to pry upon their shady business. A wrist knife kept handy just in case things turned from grey to coal black. Not once did he speak on the way, not once did he even acknowledge Ricky's presence by him. The man simply walked until the hustle and bustle of the city remained in the distance and the darkness would embrace them and the moon would shine upon their faces with Leth's grace.

it was only then that the artist finally halted, surrounded by nothing besides the hum of the sea and the bonesnapper. It was only then that alas he turned to his beloved friend. "I beg you, speak to no one upon this matter. No one must know. You however are a friend, a very best friend." a curl of a smile upon his lip as now he faced Ricky directly. His voice had melted somewhat, regaining perhaps that old quality with which they so often conversed. But the underlying notes of melancholy remained and there was still something else. Pleading. Desperate pleading. "This is a test of our friendship. Do not let me down." For a moment Valo ceased all speech, indeed ceased all movement all together. A moment, awaiting Ricky's response.

Bone white hands rose from beneath the blackness which was his clothing and slowly, very slowly the long fingers fiddled with the buttons of his cloak. The first thing perhaps Ricky would notice was just how terribly white they were. No colouration, no blood pumping though those lax veins. The skin was sunken in somewhat, allowing the linear tendons to be just a little more prominent. Valo's eyes were fixed on those hands now, for fear of what he would find in the expression of the bear. A gazing upon the slenderness, the crisp linear nature of his own feature. Then the cloak simply slipped off, revealing that scarlet hair to roam free in the bone snapper as if animated with a life of it's own. But that was perhaps the only think that staid the same, for from beneath that hair loomed a man as bone white as his hands. Even his lips now melted into the hue of his skin as if some strange theatrical make up had been pained upon him. But that was not the case. A gentle smile upon his lips, almost a merry one but his feature was evermore harsh init's precise chiselled appearance, than it had ever been.

He was dressed in truly fine attire that evening,even more so perhaps than Ricky would remember him. For it was no longer that suit of grey which Valo so cherished. This was black of fine quality. A silk shirt of the darkest black, pants of a similarly dark hues from beneath which shined a black pair of leather shoes. A wine red silk vest, unbuttoned. And around his neck, as if it was a snake, loitered the scarf of pure midnight, at which at which those bone white hands grabbed, removing it to release a silver scar across his neck. There he halted, his eyes on his friend. Eyes which were not those green orbs which Ricky would know from before. There were diffident. Still of the same form, still bearing the same animation, but the colour was inhuman. Red eyes, as red as hate itself. As red as the tears of Uldr.

[Ricky Maze]

Ricky hesitated in thought when Valo said little, but stuck close to his fates friend nonetheless. What strange behavior had brought Valo to act like this? Ricky wasn't sure what to think as he followed Valo, he only could feel a mixture of emotions in the pit of his stomach, the mixture that form the perfect concotion for anxiety. Ricky was overly concerned of course, but at the same time felt that their friendship was now in danger. Whatever this secret he was about to learn is, his instinct told him it wasn't a favorable one.

Finally the time had come when Valo stopped, their covered distance a far good amount to be for seclusion; or so Ricky believed anyway. "I beg you, speak to no one upon this matter. No one must know. You however are a friend, a very best friend." Valo had spoken with a smile, after he finally turned to Ricky. There was the trace of the old artistic Inartan he knew once before, which actually eased Ricky's mind a bit in knowing deep inside his fated friend was still the same. Mostly anyway. There was still the melancholic tone that hung to his voice, that and of course the cry to bear a secret so strong, so forbidden, it literally pulled on Ricky's heart. 'Why does it feel like this is something beyond me? Something I can't help mend or...' His thoughts led to a worse idea, one that became dead like the night. Valo however was the one to break that thought. "This is a test of our friendship. Do not let me down."

There was a slight gulp as Ricky's anxiety grew, he wasn't awarw just yet of what Valo was about to reveal. No instead Ricky worried if he could bear such a heavy secret, something this great that would prove a true test to their bond of friendship. Ricky was starting to feel afraid, and the chill of the leftover winter wind didn't help with the moment either. All he could do was nod to show his understanding, as he had no words to say just yet.

Then the secret came out. Valo wad no longer the shrouded artist he was just a chime ago. After he removed it to reveal his new darker shade of clothing, the very things that stood out was the colors that opposed the midnight clothes.

Valo's hair seemed to be the only thing that came to life in the windy air, the red danced about in the breeze as a warm flame would upon wood. However Ricky's observation led him to the paleness of Valo's skin. First his hands, and then his entire face. There was that moment when Ricky would usually comment to lighten the mood, but the seriousness of the situation proved overpowering as he only continued to observe. A silver line across the neck was present after the removal of his scarf, and after a tick Ricky realized that to be a scar. A scar that must've been painful to receive, better yet a scar that was never there before...

"W..Wha?" He was lost in confusion, his eyes finally met with his friend to find that what was once the green he always saw before were now red. Red as a ruby, red as blood. There was an absence of thought as confusion filled him even more, until he finally sank down to his knee's in awe. "By Laviku Valo, what has happened to ya lad?!" His eyes were full of astonishment, lost in a world filled with questions; questions that demanded answers...

[Valo]

With the smile quickly fading, Valo watched as his companion sunk down to his knees. His eyes wide open, confusion painted in the feature of his face profoundly. A pitiful sight. "By Laviku Valo, what has happened to ya lad?!" exclaimed Ricky. A question which Valo could have expected. A moment in which their eyes had been joined, before the artist looked away in his crimson gaze. A look to the rolling waves.

"I'm dead." he replied simply, providing little less than no detail at all bout the nature of his demise. Too, he kept concealed the scar upon his chest for perhaps he had already provided the poor sailor with adequately gruesome a sight. Perhaps inhuman wasn't the term to describe the artist - yet for a man like Ricky, a man who knew Valo as the gentleman Inarta, this new appearance would be little less than simply astonishing. And he knew that. He knew that well, hence the reluctance to reveal his secret at first. Hence the reluctance to reveal that secret in al it's entirety now. Perhaps he was marked by the god of unlife, that did not mean he care any less for that dear friend of his. Of course if Ricky was to ask, he would not deny him the knowledge, but for love's sake, he wished to hurt the man as little as possible. "I was killed last season."

Despite his calm composure, inside Valo was in tears. His still heart wept for this encounter, it wept for the expression upon Ricky's face, for the words he was to hear. It wept for the way he carried himself, distant, not at all that cordial man he had once been. An apprehension of what possible thoughts could be weaving them selfs though Ricky's head. A desperation to hear them spoken out loud, but that was not voiced. Suffice to say, Valo existed in love of that existence, in love with Uldr who had so graciously granted it to him. Yet even he would not deny that Ricky's friendship was so great a price to pay for Uldr's gift.

These last few days seemed to have strengthened the artist. No longer did he simply fall apart like in the days of his youth. His calm perpetuated perhaps more, his mind was colder, more calculating. His emotion subdued to an extent. A change undeniable, yet perhaps a change for the better.

In the darkness of late evening air, Valo turned the cheek, gleaming eyes looking into the distance. Looking to the soothing tidal motion of the waves that rolled across the sand in low velocity hum. A soothing motion. It reminded him of Nai'a... yes, This was where they have met for that second time. That fateful second time that spiralled their friendship into a convoluted mess of love and passion and apprehension. Young love and silliness. This place was somewhat symbolic to him, carried such a marvellous memory. Now another memory would be added. One too so very significant. The making or breaking of a true friendship.

[Ricky Maze]

"I was killed last season." The words were calm, almost tranquil really, when Valo spoke. This being the explanation of his new behavior he had before. Now Ricky was filled with many things, questions, emotions, curiosities. All at once his mind became overwhelmed with the news that this secret brought, in which it immediately caused his brain to short circuit.

"Killed? But why? Who did this to ya?!" He stood now, his mind going into a blind rage he didn't see coming. If Valo was quick to act he could calm his friend down, otherwise Ricky would continue to grow a very red color. "Who the petch had the balls to kill you?! They had NO petchin right, ye were just fine when we last spoke, and now just like that somebody takes yer life just like that?!" It was a outbursted rant that continued as his eyes filled with tears, evidently it was clear more than ever that Ricky wasn't just lost. He was terrified. Terrified, angry, there was a whirlwind of feelings. He hadn't expect to easily fall victim of an angry blackout, but then when such a tragic event befell yet such another important person in your life; the reason made perfect sense.

Ricky's breath picked up in short furious pants, his teeth being gritted as he despised not being there to stop the would be bastard from doing this to Valo, and most importantly his eyes were now bloodshot with tears as they demanded answers. This was indeed a overbearing test for Ricky to handle, but he fact was that he couldn't handle it alone. What he needed was a hand to guide him through this unexpected matter that troubled his mind.