victormakesart | (no subject)

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."

*impish grin right back* What can I say, I've an eye for what looks good.

"You're a sweetheart. Ever painted?"

That I am. *wink* And beyond a little fingerpainting in the first grade, I've never tried to wield a paintbrush. I wouldn't know where to start.

"We oughta fix tha', then, aye?"

*eyebrow* May-be.

He grinned. "C'mon. What'd it hurt?"

"Eh, I'm not artistic like that, amigo. I can hear, but I can't see." He shifts a bit on the mattress and stretches back out again. "You go ahead, I'll cheer from the sidelines."

He looked almost smug. "Anyone can be artistic when they're 'round me. Not bein' artistic is somethin' I can easily change." He yawned. "'Sides. Arm hurts." It was a prosthetic attached to the middle of his back, so he probably meant that his back hurt. He wasn't really clear all of the time.

"Then it's not me being artistic, is it?" He pauses. "No offense. You need anything for your arm?"

"None taken. It'd still be you Mr. Rico. Everyone has dormant potential. I jus' help unleash it." He shook his head. "Nah. Ain't nothin' to do but wait it out, I think. Been hurtin' since lady-knife so I've been limiting myself t' four paintin's a day."

Rico snorts at the "mister" part. "If you say so."

((Mun's off now. May or may not be on later tonight.))

"I'll find you a guitar sometime."

((Alrighty.))

Rico grins. "Thanks man, I appreciate it. Anything I can do in return? I need to pay rent somehow."

((Well, that didn't take long.))

"Nah. There ain't rent in th' Nexus." He shrugged. "I earn any money I'd need by sellin' my work."

"Doesn't seem fair, though. I'm like a leech." He pulls at his hair thoughtfully. "Then again, I don't think I need to eat, so I'm only taking up space..."

He thought better of mentioning that he figured that leeches weren't very pretty, so that it wouldn't work proper. "Nah. Nothin' like a leech. I'm happy t' help."

He has to think about this sort of thinking for a bit. "Well. Thanks."

"Any friend've Miss Victor is a friend've mine."

"How'd you meet Victor, anyway? She's a nice girl."