Closed Confessions

[Ricky Maze]

Confessions
Spring 4th 515 AV, 11th Bell
Location: A Touchy Subject

Secrets. Secrets all around. They existed with his father and they existed since his own birth, and now Ricky stands surrounded by more with what he could only call "Burten's legacy" in hand. Well in pocket at the very least, the journal had been jammed in there and stood out like a sore thumb more than anything, and at this point reading it had started to drive Ricky mad already. It wasn't just the book nor the fact it belonged to his long dead father, but the simple problem that nowadays everybody he knew had a secret they wanted quiet. Sure he had his own but they didn't appear half as bad as some of the ones he'd learned recently, for instance the fact Gale had tried to commit suicide twice if not more... and he had also committed a murder sometime before he'd met Ricky. Why didn't the fisherman turn him in though? Sure enough there could've been the speculation of it, the worry that the Wave Guard may come to Gale's doorstep to place him into custody. But no. Ricky kept quiet like he had been in on it, and silently he tore himself apart trying to come to terms with the changes before him.

Tired of all the secrecy he started to slowly find himself in already, Ricky decided to go ahead with seeking a way to relieve the stress it put on his mind. Already he felt his stomach knot because he'd never really been here, and places like this were often places he rather avoided without good reason to do otherwise. This though... this internal need to confide in somebody, somebody that he didn't personally know, made it all the more possible, plus the idea of it preventing him from screaming aloud made it all the more motivational. And so with a tense body and clenched jaw he opened the steel door before him, the sound of soft music hummed from within to invite him inside as he walked through the entrance. The pound of his heart made him realize he'd already felt nervous about being here, the first few people to catch his eye intrigued by the presence of this man.

Though the lobby appeared to be lush and cozy he didn't wait to be greeted by anybody, the sooner he reached the woman that owned this establishment the better in his case. When he arrived to greet the lady he had heard about, he cleared his throat with a respective bow after he walked into her office. "Madame Lilienne, Oi presume."

The woman's eyes switched from whatever contents rested on her current parchment, to the Zeltivan fisherman that had entered the room. "Welcome sir, just what can I do for you today?"

"Oi uh... need a favor. Oi heard ye've got people who know how t' keep secrets. Oi had hoped t' ask fer someone, just an' ear t' listen is all Oi need." He hinted as he tried to avoid being all bashful, he definitely didn't feel ordinary in a place like this.

"An ear? What an odd request." She murmured with a finger curled at the chin, he couldn't honestly tell if she thought him strange, or if her curiosity had shown through.

"Its fer personal reasons... got some shyke Oi'd rather not discuss wit' friends..." He explained with fingers ran through the back of his hair, it wasn't like he really had any close friends to share this stuff with... now that Gale had been gone.

"Interesting. Very well, sixteen Gold Miza's can provide you a bell of privacy, should be long enough to 'lend an ear' as you put it." She raised an eyebrow with a smirk, a bit of a blush colored Ricky's cheeks right then. He cleared his throat when he fished out the Miza he needed, and then dipped his hands sheepishly in his pockets to wait. He'd forgotten the damn journal rested fixated in the left side, until he realized his hand wouldn't fit in there. "Very well then, excuse me while I find you an escort to talk with." She rose from her chair and proceeded to the lobby just outside her door, while Ricky waited inside for whoever it was she would bring along.

[Matthew]

It wasn't long before a well-dressed man entered the room, escorted by the Madame. He was almost the exact same height as Ricky, though with slimmer features. Perhaps the most interesting thing about his current appearance was the white mask that currently hid his features, though neatly-styled black hair could be easily seen perched atop his head. The mask hid almost everything else except for his eyes, which were a brilliantly bright shade of blue. Oddly enough, when the light caught his stare just right, it appeared as if a dark blue ring circled the iris for just a split tick. The Madame extended a hand toward the masked man, her voice polite and professional. "This is Matthew. He will help you shoulder your burdens, and I promise to you that every secret you speak will be safely kept. Matthew, could you show him to the assigned room?

The masked Harlot nodded, his voice slipping out softly, each word carefully pronounced. "Hello, sir. It is my pleasure to meet you. Follow me." He turned from the room, motioning for Ricky to follow him to the second floor.

---

The door was locked behind them, Matthew leading the bear of a man into a room that was just as impressive as the downstairs area had been. There was a large bed and a plush couch, along with a small bedside table with what looked to be multiple flavors of wine. There was also a nearby desk, Matthew removing his mask and placing it gently atop the furnished wood. The rest of his features were fully exposed, a mixture of handsomeness and feminine beauty. A dagger was also removed from behind his belt, a wickedly long black blade that was slowly exposed and gently placed upon the counter as well, Matthew making sure that Ricky knew he wasn't drawing it as a threat. "I like to carry a weapon to protect myself, just in case any clients lose control. I don't feel it will be required in this case, though."

He had almost immediately expended his djed when he had first met the man, using it to slowly draw Ricky's aura into view. There were a multitude of brilliant and bright colors that left the taste of fruit on his tongue, but it was obvious that a weight sat heavy on them, the edges of the aura drooping like melting wax. Interestingly enough, Matthew could hear the soft roar of the ocean in the aura as well. He did not pry though, merely looked for emotion. He wanted to know what state of mind his client was in so that he could best understand how to serve him. Nervousness was the strongest sensation, the bitter taste of it pulsing in the back of Matthew's throat.

"What shall I refer to you by? Would you like some wine or a drug to help soothe your nerves? We have simple variations of white and red wines, as well as doses of Poppers and Rez. Both of the drugs are completely safe when taken correctly, and I can detail out their effects if you are interested." In a perhaps interesting move, Matthew sat down right where he was standing, folding his legs underneath him and plopping right down onto the soft red carpet. He stared up at Ricky, his expression calm and patient, blue eyes intense and straightforward in their stare.

He tilted his head to the side and then offered a polite smile, holding Ricky's gaze. "Or we can do something else that will help make you comfortable. I am open to ideas. If you'd just rather get right to confiding in all you want me to hear, that is perfectly fine." He had often considered using Hypnotism to help ease the more nervous of clients into the whole process. It seemed much too casual of a use, though.

[Ricky Maze]

When Madame Lilienne returned with the man she chose, Ricky's stomach gave a slight roll from the anxiety he had felt. Even though he didn't even plan to do anything wrong, he still felt very much out of his element by coming here, and the technical idea of coming here just for a "friendly chat" could very easily not sound as innocent as intended. Either way the larger fisherman gulped before he sucked it up and shook off the tension that fixated in his upper body. A friendly smile given to the man who's eyes flashed a brilliant blue underneath the mask, much to Ricky's surprise given it wasn't often one found that shade of blue. "T'ank ye Madame." He bowed respectively before he followed along with the escort, his heart in a swift rhythmical pattern as they walked into the private room provided for them.

By the looks of it they spared no expense by means of comfort, seeing as how they made the place cozy for the guests that came here. At first Ricky remained withdrawn about the whole thing, hardly a single sound uttered as he tried to find it within himself to finally come forward with all these... monsters. Yeah that worked well enough, these monsters inside that tore at him at best. Whatever term best suited his issues, he needed to find a means of sharing them, and it tended to work best with somebody you never really knew. The man seemed to serve just that purpose, and with the removal of both mask and weapon, Ricky felt he meant to provide a better sense of comfort. How else would he be doing his intended job, if not to put an ease to the mind of a paying customer. At least that's how Ricky started to think of it, just a simple matter of business while some lunatic talked his ear off. The very idea made him feel all the more stupid for actually doing this.

"Ye can just call me Ricky, it's basically de name everyone knows me by." He answered sheepishly as he finally decided to sit at the edge of the bed, he fought hard to avoid staring too hard at Matthew. "Oi'm not de sort who indulges in d'at kind o' stuff, t'ough Oi do appreciate de offer mate." As he turned down the offer he made a mental note about this place, and wondered whether or not the Wave Guard had any associations with the place. It didn't seem likely granted this kind of business seemed more hush hush than anything, still he wanted to know just how far did the Madame's influence really go into the city. When Matthew then came to mention doing something else and he happened to be open to ideas, Ricky could help but feel he had hinted at something else instead. In that particular moment the fisherman blushed once again, a clearing of the throat to follow before he answered the escort.

"Oi've not any ideas me self really, er- not t' say Oi 'ad intentions either! Oi mean- Oi'm a married man 'fter all, an- well shyke." He couldn't stop the muttering as his tongue completely failed to work in its proper form, the sheer amount of stupidity he felt pretty much worsened as he tried to recollect his thoughts. "Oi'm sorry, d'is ain't me typical way o' handlin' issues. It's just 'ere lately Oi'm startin' t' find me self stressed out a bit, an' wit' no real direction on where t' go Oi dunno what t' do." He wondered if that made any sense at all to Matthew, if there would be in any way a sense of relation by circumstance of situation. He had to more or less look at the mark on his right hand for further encouragement, as he tried to break past the shell he'd hidden away in and share his inner thoughts with the escort.

[Matthew]

Matthew had long since learned to control his facial expression. Even though his mind was whirling with dozens of thoughts every tick, that soft and massive look remained on his handsome features. An interesting complication had presented itself.

Oi'm. T'ough. 'Ere.

It was perhaps one of the thickest Zeltivian accents he had ever heard. Back when he had been a child, he had gained a small bit of the regional accent to the sound of his words. He had practiced erasing it when he had grown older, and had been away from Zeltiva for so long that facing the accent again briefly left him struggling to understand. It didn't take long for him to realize that he couldn't process the words like normal, printing them out in his mind and analyzing them. He had to analyze the sound. Once he started doing that, it was much easier to follow along with the nervous stutters of his client. He was used to such a reaction, especially when it came to first-time clients. Tilting his head slowly, he slowly stretched himself up from his seated position, stretching his lithely-muscled limbs out in a rather sensual sort of stretch.

"Do not worry. You did not come here asking for sexual favors, so I assumed you had no intentions. It is certainly a unique way of handling stressful issues, but I can see the logic in having someone impartial lend you an ear. Now you simply need to be able to relax a bit so that you can easily expose these things from where you have hidden them away, and then phrase them to me." The Harlot reached up a hand, slowly drumming the tips of his fingers across the side of his sharp jawline, blue eyes holding Ricky's stare. "The easiest thing to do would be male bonding. If I recall, that usually comes with adventures, drinking, and a few other things..." Oddly enough, the Harlot was listing the bonding methods off as if he had read them from a book. It was like he was giving Ricky the definition of such a thing, as well as the scientific method for going about it. Ricky's nervousness was the puzzle, and this male bonding that Matthew had heard about seemed to be the solution. Would that perhaps help clean away the bitter taste of awkwardness that he felt in Ricky's aura?

Male bonding. Had he ever bonded with another male? The concept was extremely foreign to him. He had heard other males speak of feeling a bond with him, though. A particular Myrian male rose to his mind, the seemingly-wise words of Razkar echoing in his head suddenly.

"...or through fighting, wrestling, and sparring. That's perfect." Razkar had said it was the best way and Matthew certainly wasn't familiar with the topic himself.

While the matter-of-fact way in which he spoke the words was a bit odd, the next few moments would turn the whole ordeal utterly perplexing. Throughout it all his tone stayed apathetic and soft, as if he was discussing something that was absolutely normal. "Let the fight begin."

The words were barely out of his mouth before Matthew bent at the knee and then flung himself at the seated Ricky, lowering his shoulder and actually hurdling himself at the man with a shoulder tackle.

[Ricky Maze]

To hear what Matthew had to say about Ricky's coming here today actually put a sense of ease after the gist of it had been put out, the escort very much understood the idea of this whole meeting as his role involved meant he could probably do more than just listen. He could understand from an outsider's point of view and even offer insight to the situation, something that seemed easier to take into perspective granted he was a stranger. To do this with friends made sense because it seemed so much easier, but the fact was Ricky had few friends, those that were had moved on elsewhere... and the few that stayed practically drifted away. The distance between him and Gale felt greater now because of what he said, and the fact that their argument replayed in his head quite often made it harder to deal with. So in truth he'd been fairly quiet recently in terms of expressing thoughts and inner feelings, and now he'd become haunted by his own dealings to the point of breaking.

That put him here now, with an unusual but admittedly attractive man. To be able to think that definitely put Ricky in a very awkward spot, and the whole idea of male bonding which Matthew suggested definitely brought an intrigued look out of the fisherman. So yer sayin... ye wanna go git a drink? He thought quietly as Matthew continued to think, then of course the second half of his brainstorming became known. Fighting. Something that Ricky hardly liked doing, only whenever he'd been drunk enough was it actually enjoyable. Now? Ricky hadn't even had a single drink, so the fact he could fully register a fight being present, that already put him in a bit of a short scare when it seemed Matthew liked the idea. "Now hold on-" He raised a hand to try reasoning but Matthew had already initiated it, a charge directed at Ricky like a battering ram while the fisherman scrambled to his feet.

Rather than take any counteractive measures the Zeltivan stood his ground and angled his body, that way the impact of Matthew's force wouldn't be a full front tackle when he slammed into the fisherman. For one that stood pretty much the same height and had a defined body, he didn't have as hard of a hit as Ricky expected at first. The force of the tackle merely made him shift the tips of his feet to push against him, only to withstand the impact as well force long enough to hopefully get a decent reaction. Ricky then moved his left side over to step aside and pull Matthew around, his arms intended to grapple the man by the arms or shoulders and hopefully attempt to shove him onto the bed softly. He wasn't sure what to expect next though now that he'd managed to pull off such a sheepish reversal, so Ricky merely backed away with hands raised in a stopping manner until he'd reached the couch behind him. "Hold on now, hold on! No need t' go 'bout fightin' mate!"

He wasn't sure if Matthew would get back up and attempt another charge or something different, or if he would see reason that Ricky wasn't particularly one to easily engage in such matters. If the man did decide a second attempt, Ricky would make a call to surrender and say he won already. Of course if Matthew stood down then Ricky would just sink back onto the couch with a sigh, a slight grin on his face out of the amusement this odd situation provided.

[Matthew]

Ricky would certainly find that Matthew wasn't at all difficult to deal with when it came to such brawling. It would be almost comical to hear the "Oh. Hm." when the Harlot slammed into the mass of the fisherman and was stopped cold. His tone was calm but puzzled, his moment of confusion easily distracting him long enough for Ricky to grapple him and lightly shove him onto the bed. Matthew landed with a light plop and a bounce, no harm done, slowly rolling over onto his back and then sitting up. His head tilted at Ricky as the man backed away, the Harlot slowly standing, seemingly unconcerned with Ricky's retreat. Instead, his stare flickered over the figure of the fisherman, analyzing him. He was heavier. Perhaps Matthew had hit too high. Perhaps he needed to go lower. Faster. Go for the legs instead and bring the man to the ground, where his weight would go against him. What did Matthew know about grappling, though?

The Harlot paused, the coin dropping. He actually knew quite a bit about grappling. In the blink of an eye, the aura around Matthew changed, the sensation in the air turning from one of casual aggression to sudden sexual charge. It was the way his body suddenly started to move, shifting from this slow walk to a more confident step. There was a grace, there was a heat in his eyes, there was even a petching sway to his hips. Above all, there were those blue eyes, screaming at Ricky just how Matthew was going to fight him.

He was going to conquer him. Every. Last. Bit. The fisherman prayed to Laviku, no doubt. Tonight, he would worship a new God.

It was 'male bonding' to a whole new level. The Harlot had no concept of the clear line between bonding with a friend and bonding with a lover.

Then Ricky's words reached Matthew. The Harlot paused mid-advance, and once again it was like some sort of switch had been flipped. All of the overflowing sexual aggression just vanished, replaced by the calm and professional man of earlier, that polite smile returning to his face like nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.

"Oh. Alright. Are we now bonded, then?" Apparently to Matthew, it was as simple as that. Seemingly satisfied, the man stepped back to take a seat on the edge of the nearby bed, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands over his knees. "What would you like to share, then? Start anywhere you like."

[Ricky Maze]

"Yeah, yeah! We're bonded now!" Ricky stated as he still remained defensively tense in front of the couch, he had to admit while the reaction to nudge him down proved thoughtful, its usefulness seemed hardly efficient to the idea since the escort merely stood back up. That fire in his eyes though, it had been something that unnerved Ricky greatly, like it had been some sort of mental switch flipped on. Matthew certainly seemed enthralled with his way of thinking, but when it came to simply acting calm and regular again, it nearly dazed the fisherman as he tried to understand the mechanics behind how such controlled emotion really worked. There had to be a lot of practice with it somehow, either that or it was something the man got really good at.

Now that the situation seemed to be put at ease Ricky allowed himself to relax and sink back onto the sofa, a sigh to follow as he rubbed the back of his neck in thought. Where to begin? It wouldn't do to just spill everything out in one go, no he had to somehow make everything connect. Make sure it all made sense, so that he wouldn't sound crazy, at least not as crazy as his father seemed. "All roi d'en. Oi guess Oi'd be better off startin' from de beginnin'." He decided after a moment of consideration, he started to wonder how much time had passed, seeing as how he hadn't really taken to count the chimes. "My name as ye know is Ricky Maze, Oi was born just out de coast 'ere on de way t' Zeltiva. It's been me home fer all me life, an' Oi've been raised by a single man who had always been me father." He leaned forward with elbows placed onto his knees, his fingers entwined together while he twiddled his thumbs. "When Oi was born, me Ma died just shortly afterwards. D'ere had been complications from... well me Oi suppose."

"Me Pa raised me t' be a fisherman wit' good morals, he was a sailor who'd been t' several places, and had in fact actually taken me t' a couple when Oi was old enough. His name was Burten Maze, an' just when Oi had reached the age o' manhood, Oi had caught word d'at de vessel he's had sailed on went missin'. So, naturally, it had been assumed d'at he was lost at sea." He started to build a grimace at this part of the story, the bitterness still reminiscent from when he first saw his dad again. "But after eight years... eight long years spent nearly alone, he randomly decides t' show up once again. And d'ats not even all, just a small chapter o' de whole petched up story me life 'as become." He added as he looked from his thumbs up to Matthew, curious to see how this man had taken the story so far.

[Matthew]

Matthew slowly nodded as he absorbed the words that Ricky spoke, blue eyes intense and focused. He had retreated to a near-meditative state, realizing that he would probably need every single ounce of mental power and concentration in order to understand the story that Ricky would tell. The Harlot had always found emotion to be a difficult thing to understand. He certainly felt it, but did he understand the things he felt? He certainly did not, and instead opted to retreat as quickly as possible from them. To the logical prostitute, illogical emotions were something that would only corrupt and corrode his calculating mind. But now he had a client to take care of, and taking care of that client required that he provide valuable and heartfelt feedback. Or did it? Perhaps he was just supposed to listen?

He had not considered how difficult this could possibly be.

As more and more information came out, Matthew's analytical mind blurred into motion. He centered himself, focused on his breathing, and used those steady breaths to suck Ricky's words out of the air and then slowly blow them back up in a manner that was easier to process. Matthew's thought process involved mentally visualizing the words themselves, as if the air was a blackboard he could freely write upon.

Ricky Maze

Appears Human | Facial characteristics have settled in. Late 20's? Early 30's? | Male

-Single parent household, born and raised in Zeltiva. Loss of mother was cause of complications.
-Fisherman. Good morals. Morality defined by father, Burten Maze.
-Father went missing. Grimace. Facial expression shift. Expressing sorrow? Anger? Confusion?
-Father re-appeared. Facial expression settling. Not sorrow, not confusion. Frustration? Bitterness?

Ricky would find that the Harlot made for an incredibly intense and focused listener, gaze locked on Ricky and face quite thoughtful. Realizing that Ricky had paused and was seemingly looking for a response, Matthew slowly spoke. "I was raised in Zeltiva as well. My parents are Theresa and Edward Parker. They actually named me after Mathew's Bay." He paused a moment, figuring that sharing some of his own personal history would help the process. After a tick of further consideration, he continued on. "Eight years is a very long time to be gone. I would have assumed he was dead and gone by then."

[Ricky Maze]

Ricky's ears perked just a bit with the hint of curiosity that soon welled within his eyes present, so by the sound of it this Mathew was also Zeltivan and yet he seemed easily impressionable, enough to hide that fact anyways since Ricky heard no real trace of the accent anyways. Perhaps Mathew never picked it up or just practiced hiding it away, either way it developed a small personal feeling of kinship towards him with Ricky, which in truth proved to be a useful start somewhere. "D'ats interestin', Oi 'ad suspected ya Zeltivan. Can't say I know yer parent's names by heart t'ough, me Pa might've t'ough since he was involved wit' many o' de locals 'ere." He contemplated with ease as he thought it might've extended more of a personal connection towards Mathew, whether the escort would regard it or not remained to be seen. Either way if the ideals of these personal feelings had become mutually, although likely hardly, or if they weren't necessarily reciprocated at the moment; Ricky really hadn't the amount of care to dwell on it so to speak. They had after all just met and for all he knew, Mathew could easily be acting on whim. Sure there could be intentional emotions placed within his words, but so far Ricky hadn't quite yet decided on how he felt towards the man. He was paid t' listen after all. But again that factor could easily be weighed out by Mathew's own personal interests, for now though the fisherman would make use of the time he still had left.

"Aye, an' fer de longest time Oi did." He nodded at the statement of believing Burten dead after so long. "Oi'd come t' accept de fact Oi was practically alone, hence why Oi felt so pissed upon seein' his face again... but we made up shortly afterwards, and not long after d'at Oi finally watched him die in me arms." What little resemblance of bitterness had softened as he transitioned through the story, and when he looked rather relaxed at first the end brought a fall to the corners of his lips. He still remembered the words that had been said, the last dying words his father shared as his final breath left those lungs. It proved to be a hard time indeed and while he didn't wish to accept it, he had found few other choices existed for him otherwise. Too many things were going on in such a short amount of time, he hardly hadn't the chance to dwell on everything, at least not until he finally made it back home from the journey to Syliras. "It's a complicated situation really, but somehow he wound up alone and attacked. Nearly bled out by de time Oi arrived t' find him, an' o' course t'ings just got overly hectic from t'ere." He wondered just how long he would have to share all this, already it felt like too much time had passed for him really. Then again he'd lost tracked and failed to keep up since the moment they entered the room, and he'd found himself placed in the uncomfortable position of confrontation he'd put himself in. Maybe that was the real problem, now that he'd thought more about it anyways. He'd been so caught up in current events, he'd hadn't the time to mentally confront all these things and deal with him, and now with the addition of these new matters piling up he'd begun to overload his own mind.

Stressing himself out over his father, the how the loss took so many unknown things to his grave, and how it left Ricky in a situation where the dark felt only darker the more he poked into these things."For a time Oi'd just didn't care t' t'ink, just accepted t'ings as d'ey were an' moved on. Yet from left t' roight all d'is shyke just kept happenin' t' me. Me son was finally born, started seein' me dead girlfriend's ghost, fought against a magic user d'at commandeered a Zeltivan ship, lost me damn finger t' a black hole!" He held up his left hand to add to the bitter emphasis he held before prattling on. "T'en Oi learned Oi had an illness from me dead girlfriend's ghost..." Now that he finally dwelt on it now he felt a lot of regret for how things turned out, particularly how that event carried out since... well since he got rid of Natalie for good once she'd revealed his deathly condition to him. "Once d'at happened Oi traveled t' Syliras in search fer a Priestess o' Rak'keli, an' along de way met Priskil in de process. She..." He seemed to trail off as he stopped all motions, a vexed look on his face quickly followed too, as he yet to fully understand why she gave him her own gift. "She marked me too, granted me a gift Oi dun t'ink Oi'll ever deserve." Humility could've seemed present as he looked at the back of his right hand but there was also the lack of self confidence as well, the ideals of normalcy he'd thought about soon to follow and challenge the concept of what defined his life. Or was it history? Did the events that happened to you define just your history, or did they in turn define who you are come their result? "Oi've always t'ought me self a normal average man, until Oi finally arrived back home from all o' dat." He finally looked back up to Mathew with honesty, the deep blue orbs engaged with Mathew's own as they reflected sincerity. "All Oi ever wanted was t' 'ave a normal life, wit' a normal family. No problems an' no... unexpected events t' come between me and it. In truth Oi'd t'ought Oi actually had it once Oi married, but t'en everyt'ing else just happened one t'ing at a time t' no end."

"Anyways," He sighed as he attempted to continue, "Oi've digressed now when clearly the major part o' de story is almost up." He'd honestly thought it would've taken longer to reach this part, granted it felt larger than the world he stood in anyways, but maybe once this whole thing had been fully shared, Mathew would be able to lend what was left of his insight on the matter. "Before Oi left Syliras Oi'd learned Oi had a younger sister d'ere, an' shortly after Oi got home Oi soon found Oi had a younger brother too. At first the chances seemed highly unlikely but after a bit o' evidence t' prove otherwise, Oi knew from t'en on Pa had more t'an just me. At first... I was a lil' confused and doubtful but at de same time excited, Oi didn't feel so isolated after all de time Oi t'ought me self alone. De "last survivin' Maze" doesn't really sound all dat grand after all, but 'ere recently Oi acquired somet'in Oi wasn't deemed ready t' 'ave. Not until it's keeper found me ready t' have it anyways, and she had done left before Oi could approach her 'bout it!" He exclaimed as though he were a little cross, the perplexity of his situation soon revealed itself though. "Ye can actually look at it if ye like, it's me father's last keepsake. His journal o' de time he spent outside o' Zeltiva, while Oi t'ought he was dead."

He dipped his hand into the stuffed pocket to wiggle out the book found inside, all of his inner irritation spurred once again at the memory of its complexity. Yes he had found most of it nearly nothing but insanity, highly made up garbage that wouldn't have made sense while some of it clearly expressed what was on the writer's mind. He held it out for Mathew to take if he decided he wanted to look at it, the first page immediately releasing the carefully preserved sketch of the father and son if it had been opened. The details of the first few pages were nothing more than a biography section to fill in the blanks, which highlighted the fact who Burten was and what he did in his younger days as a sailor

oocDidn't mean to make this one drag out but I figured it'd move our thread along just a bit more, granted I've kept you waiting long enough for a reply.

[Matthew]

Matthew slowly expended just a trickle more of Djed, burning more of the substance to further bring Ricky's aura into view. He was slow and methodical about it, wanting to simultaneously focus on every word that Ricky was speaking. He thought it might help if he was able to understand the man a bit more and Auristics would provide an elegant method of doing that. At the same time, he didn't want to completely tune out of anything the fisherman was trying to tell him. Splitting his focus like this was good practice, anyway. As he slowly began to expend the amount of focus required to further bring Ricky's aura into view, his eyes carefully and attentively held focus with Ricky's own stare the entire time. Nodding slowly, he spoke again, this time with a bit more softness. "Finally reunited only to loose him once more. I can't imagine how such a thing must have felt." For a moment, he wondered if he could use his Goddess-gifted powers to go back and see exactly what had been the aggressor of his father's fate. Almost immediately he discarded the idea. What good would simply knowing do? Nothing could be done to prevent what had already happened.

The Harlot carefully listened to each and every word that was to follow, slowly nodding and making noises from the back of his throat as Ricky unveiled each and every part of the story. It was quite the array of events. A son, a ghost of a past love, magic, captaining a ship, losing a finger in a... black hole? Matthew's steady gaze shifted to the missing finger as it was shown to him, furrowing his brow as he slowly nodded again. The confession of receiving a gift from Priskil was an interesting one, to him. He was slowly beginning to realize just how many people were marked, much like him. Even now he could feel her presence, lingering at the very edges of his mind.

More and more of the story was told, a dizzying series of events that even Matthew could understand would bring stress to any single individual. As the journal was offered, Matthew reached out and took it, eyes turning down to the photo. "Did you draw the sketch, or did he?" The Harlot slowly started to thumb through the book, eyes quickly skimming over the contents, not able to make much sense out of them at all.

In the back of his mind, the presence of Ricky's aura flickered, bringing the taste of salt to the back of his throat. He didn't look up though, not quite yet, curious to find that the book contained a rather complex aura itself. Much more complex than what he was used to seeing when it came to inanimate objects.

Continuing to focus on the journal as he slowly and carefully paged through it, he eventually spoke once more, voice polite and distant. "I can understand how much stress this would cause any person. Is that why you came to me? Because you needed to try and release some of the inner pressure that has been built up by all of these events?"