victormakesart | (no subject)

"Yeah." He shifted slightly, recalling a particularly unpleasant non-artist that used him as a punching and stabbing bag.

"We ought t' get you a guitar-thing," he said absently as he painted, adding a bit of blue to the hair of the person-thing.

"That'd be nice."

Rico watches the Muse at the easel. He's never seen a painter at work before.

"Sure would."

If he knew that, he would certainly be more dramatic and showy about it, but he was a flamboyant kind of guy.

Rico thinks it's cool anyway and closes his eyes again. The luxury of having an actual mattress is enough to lull him into a drowsy state for a while. Very gently, he snores a little.

He didn't notice because he was absorbed in his work. Just a few more lines...and it was done. A frightening part-person with an unnatural edge, leaving the sea. He turned the easel around because it frightened him.

Waking at the sudden movement, Rico looks blearily at the Muse. "You done, then?"

"Mmmhmmm. Sure am." He grinned over at him.

Rico grins back and sits up. He stretches and cracks a couple bones in the process.

"So what do you do for fun around here? Besides the whole artsy thing, I mean."

"Go t' bars," he slurred. "Can't do tha' now. Not s'posed to leave the Nexus. But...eh. It should be safe soon."

"I do pretty much anythin'."

Rico looks surprised. "You can leave the Nexus? I mean, not you, but... people aren't stuck here?"

"Yeah. Portal-things."

"Portal-things?" Rico prods. He's got the distinct feeling the Muse is being purposely vague.

He really didn't know any better. He was always surprised when people didn't understand what he was talking about. "Like doors an' shit aroun' th' Nexus. Open up t' dif'rent worlds."

"Is that how you got here?"

"I was jus' here. Doan 'member how. Been here f'r about six months maybe."

Rico's quiet for a few moments. "That's what happened to me a few days ago. There was my life, and a long time where nothing happened, and then boom, I'm... here."

He listened, nodding. "Yeah? Tha' sounds pretty rockin'. Good afterlife."

"I don't know. If this is supposed to be heaven..." He shrugs. "No offense, but I was expecting something more along the lines of bright sun, wings, and a halo."

((Mun takes dog for walk. Will return.))

"Ah. Abraham's God's afterlife. That's always sounded fun t' me. My Creators liked that idea too, so they made their home in th' clouds."

((Oooh. Have fun!))

That statement doesn't quite compute with Rico. He looks up, frowning. "Your... Creators?"

((Ack, and now my friend came over and is demanding attention. This is just a drive-by post.))

((Okey dokey. :) See you later, then.))

"Uh-huh. The folks who made me. I wasn't people-born," he said with a laugh.

"'People-born'? Is that what kids are calling it these days?" Rico shrugs. "Makes about as much since as anything else that's happened in the past week. So how old are you?"

He schooled his expression away from a lopsided grin and tried, for once, to look serious. "Ummm...as old as organized argument. Never kept count." He gave up and grinned. "'M really old. I aged well."

"You don't look that old," Rico says, looking the Muse over. "Twenty-five, maybe? I'm horrible at guessing people's ages."

He clucked. "Off by quite a few thousan' years, sorry, but you don't win the inflatable hammer." He grinned impishly. "Thank you though. I feel flattered."