Flashback [The Lady's Lap] An old friend comes to town (Valo)

[Corneliun]

Corneliun listened to the man’s honesty, his ears picking up every word, every subtle hint and tone in his voice. It was as he spoke an expression of calm came across him, the final pieces of this puzzle falling into place. Before him sat a man that Corneliun had known far too well in his childhood, a boy who was full of the will of adventure, of a desire so deep to see the world before the light of his youth was snatched from him. To see the magnificent cities of Mizahar, or more particular Zeltiva the known port city of Syliras. So long had he listened to his childhood companion talking about it and promising himself he would indeed visit it no matter what. But it was indeed far out of his way to come and see Ahnatep, even if it was indeed to see the heat of sands and to paint. Perhaps a little too far, but never the less the visit had obviously paid off.

Corneliun exhaled, it seemed as if it was more than simple chance that the two would indeed meet each other again, even in the most unlikely of circumstances. To continue prying and exploring would yield little more. Now it was time to end the charade, to throw down and reveal his cards that he had so carefully collected in this game of questions. The cup was placed down, and Corneliun leaned back, his hands resting before him. It was time.

“In answer to your question, I think you will find you already know the answer,” Corneliun gave a defying look to the foreigner “Or am I to be mistaken?”
He spoke with such calm, yet also such confidence that it would no doubt surprise the man, but with the evidence and facts slowly built up. Yet Corneliun did not have to speak any of his past, where as the man freely parted with information. He knew who he was; there was no point in hiding it. The skinny child he once knew in Wind Reach had grown up into a slender man full of grace and art. The head of the mixed blood tilted to one side, the smile that was originally driven to be confident having now been replaced as if speaking to an old friend. His golden eyes seemed to almost burn at the man, as if solidifying the truth behind his words.
“It has been a while Valo.”

[Valo]

“In answer to your question, I think you will find you already know the answer,” stated Corneliun. However this statement seemed so odd, for no such topic had yet been elaborated upon. Or had Valo's wits just left him. And he scoured his farthest corners of his mind in search for something he was missing. Something perhaps very important, but to no avail. Corneliun had given the impression of a dashing rogue, an idealistically romantic character that belonged in a fictional novel, rather than in Mizahar. A calm, confident man that leaned back in his chair a little and owned the world from where he sat. But the way he spoke now radiated a different kind of confidence and calmness. A recognition perhaps. As is he held some piece of the puzzle that Valo remained oblivious to. And as the artist watched him very closely he could not shake off the feeling that Corneliun's very manner shifted too. No longer did he speak to him like a stranger would, but taking on the manner of a friend. A mischievous smile replaced the previous one. And then the puzzle was solved and the answer was given and fate, it seemed, have been greatly and deeply in love with Valo all this time, for it had granted him back his most precious friend. Intoxicated with his handsomeness, fate had been kinder to him than to any man that ever lived. “It has been a while Valo.” The words echoed in what seemed like a silence that surrounded them. The hustle and bustle in the inn seemed to fade into the background, blurred by the aperture of the situation. And it has instantly occurred to the young artist that he completely forgot to tell the stranger, who was in fact not a stranger at all, his name. But he knew it anyway. How was that possible? Of course the only logical explanation dawned onto the young Inarta the moment his name was spoken, but somehow it didn't quite sink in. His eyes widened, this time incredibly.The most profound surprise within them. And his jaw clenched as he swallowed hard. His mind was now a complete disarray. A good metaphor for that would be: a pigeon flying into a library and knocking down all the books from shelves and paper would fly everywhere and it would be chaos. That's what Valo's head felt like right now. And he was overwhelmed both with joy and fear. What would he say now? What was he to do? It seemed that with age and the lack of contact, that childish spontaneous love that they shared had evaporated, leaving him awkward and disoriented. "It's... It's you..." he mumbled, though his voice was nothing but a whisper now and he could not take his ever off the man. How he had changed. And Valo had nothing but hated him self for not noticing that red glow to his companion's hair beforehand. A part of him wanted to terribly to just thrown him self at Corneliun, to embrace him and hold him so that they may never part again. But decorum forced him otherwise and the fear for he knew not how the other would react to such a bold display to love. But he had missed him so. And now all the childhood memories were alive and burned, each with it's own individual flame. And tears rolled into his eyes and terribly difficult it was to fight them back. Valo hoped dearly that the other would not notice the salty glazing over his eyes and the subtle redness that sprouted from the corners. If anything, it made those eyes of his all the more green, for the complementary nature of the two colours rendered them so. Though it was the curse of an Inarta that no blush, no tear had ever gone unnoticed, for the red of the hair seemed to elevate every other spark of redness from his skin and into plain view. He breathed in, fighting back that tidal wave of emotion with all his might and it did take him a moment. But finally he managed to retain his composure, if such were the correct terms. For he was still very much a broken toy, but one slightly more in control of him self. "It has indeed. For I have never imagined I may ever be so lucky as to see you again my friend."

[Corneliun]

The emotion travelled through Valo, a flash of confusion encompassing his face shortly followed by another deeper set emotion. But Corneliun did not speak as the expression changed upon his long lost friend’s face. He simply sat quietly in his chair, nothing more than that same smile that existed all those years ago. Indeed the pair of them had grown up, no longer where they children looking for adventure, they were both grown men on an adventure instead. Or at least one of them was at least. Corneliun’s time to adventure had yet to come, but it would come in good time. He leaned forward, his attention now soley on the man before him, hands clasped together as still he continued to analyse. He watched the pieces of the puzzle fall into place, and pure surprise control the thoughts of the man.

It had been a while indeed. A decade. Ten long years of growth and absence from each other, it was perfectly acceptable that Valo would indeed act like this. So as he watched the man struggle to compose himself, Corneliun prepared himself for whatever words would come next. Even if the most precious of friends had been reunited the next steps would indeed be difficult ones. No doubt there would exist and awkwardness in the air, but only if Corneliun allowed it. He could feel himself remembering clearly now, the warm glow of happier times filling him.

"It's... It's you..." it was a whisper, a murmer of surprise that broke the brief silence.
“Yes, it’s me,” he needed not to say anymore.
He could see the suffering of the man before him, as his mind conflicted with thoughts and feelings, of trying to comprehend what had previously been lost had now been found. And although Corneliun continued to hold this calm and composed dashing rogue, he was in reality filled with more joy than he could ever show. But he did not want to overwhelm Valo anymore; he simply wanted the artist to come to terms with the facts that were laid out before him. He could see the man cry, and indeed it was a beautiful sight to Corneliun. Although beauty itself was only skin deep to Corneliun, true beauty to him was something that could be revealed through the emotions. To be able to allow one’s self to cry with joy, to scream out, that was true beauty. And so at this instant Corneliun respected him highly.

Corneliun gave a gentle incline of the head, an acknowledgement of the words that were spoken, whilst with one hand he reached forwards and wiped the tears from Valo’s eyes. His fingers were nowhere as slender as Valo’s, instead they were powerful, ones that were used often with tools and trade, or a man of combat and swords. But they were still gentle, full of care and precision. He watched the redness fill the man’s cheeks as he tried to compose himself. He was still confused, his mind scattered but at least now Corneliun could converse.
“Luck or fate?” Corneliun gave a grin as he withdrew his hand “It is good to see you again. In fact, better than simply good. Either way, how’s it going?”

He leaned back taking up the pitcher and filling Valo’s mug once more before the artist could even ask for it. But at every moment his golden eyes flickered back up, keeping him in check. He knew now was not the time to play the joker, nor to play the over intelligent man, instead it was simply the time to observe and listen, to have the emotions come forth and let them indeed come forth. For now Corneliun was here, and he was not about to pass any of it up, not for all the riches of the world. For friendship was indeed the greatest treasure of them all.

[Valo]

Time stood still as Corneliun's hand reached across the table and his soft touch wiped the tears from the artist's face. A moment of pure intimacy between them, in which Valo's expression must have been somewhat comical, for it was that of a woman entranced by the dashing gesture of a man. Lips ajar and eyes wide open and soulful and innocent, an expression so fragile that if seemed the slightest tough could brake him. And the contact was priceless, worth more than a thousand golden mizas. A moment that seemed to last much longer than it in fact has and once it came to a completion and the mixed blood's hand retracted an invisible euphoria of animation took place between them. Long lost and severed bridges were built again and the intricate threads and ties that held the two boys so close in childhood, now regained their strength. And even though the air retained those subtle infusions of awkwardness, they would too dissolve in time. “It is good to see you again. In fact, better than simply good. Either way, how’s it going?” asked Corneliun, filling Valo's mug once more. A kind gesture, yet there wasn't that much gone from it. Valo's entire expression shifted and the greatest of grin's illuminated his face. A grin of mischief that brought devilish sparks into his green eyes. It was that same grin that seemed ever present in his features when he was a child and the two of them had been up to no good yet again. " How's it going, eh? You ask as if you did not already know the answer." he replied holding back both chuckles and tears, for Valo was completely overwhelmed with emotion now. Such a strong surge of convoluted emotion it was, joy and happiness and delight and all those other feelings one could possibly fathom, and even those he could not. And perhaps it all proved to be a little much for him, for he could no longer hold back and no longer bottle up his feelings. Jumping to his feet, Valo weaved around the table and grasped both hands of his friend, pulling him up and then, almost instantaneously in a manner of great spontaneousness, the Inarta's arms wound tight around Corneliun and he sobbed for a moment like a girl and his lips whispered. "Oh I have missed you so, my friend."

[Corneliun]

He watched the Valo continue trying to compose himself, the expression on his face as the emotions came forth once more. He watched a grin form upon his lips, a look that Corneliun had missed so much. It was as if the pair once more were in their childhood, mischief and adventure planned out for wherever they went. He watched Valo chuckle, the element of composure having once more fallen. The man could no longer contain himself, and before the mixed blood reacted he was pulled up to his feet and brought into a hug. To onlookers this may indeed of been bizarre, or perhaps a wonderful performance that had reached its climax. Either way, it did not matter for right

Valo was indeed taller than Corneliun, his chin was easily level with his eyes, but height was no issue. He simply exhaled and placed a gentle hand behind Valo’s head, whilst the other he used to embrace. He could hear the man crying, overjoyed with the entire scene and too afraid to let go due to the risk of the pair were torn apart once more. Like all those years before. He lowered Valo’s head to his shoulder, hiding his tears from the world and restoring perhaps a little composure to his old friend. He made no comment on Valo’s more feminine reaction; if anything he found it rather endearing that a friend still thought so much about him.

He gave a laugh, and held the man until he was done. It was the proper thing to do after all, listening to his broken words between his tears.
“Oh I have missed you so, my friend."
“I know,” he returned the whisper “I have missed you too.”
His fingers stroked at Valo’s hair, twirling the red strands as he waited for the artist to compose himself. And when he finally did, Corneliun gave the artist a final squeeze, a moment of reassurance before releasing him. He planted a hand on Valo’s shoulder, his golden eyes meeting his green. A smirk formed on the face of Corneliun as he brushed the strand of red hair from the artist’s face before he spoke once more.
“Let me take you on an adventure around Ahnatep,” there was a serious tone in his voice, a look of cunning and temptation so deep that it was hard to resist “Like old times.”

[Valo]

It wasn't at all out of character for Valo to be so emotional, for he had always had a soft heart. However it was perhaps striking that he exhibited them so frivolously, as if no one in the world was watching. For he had mighty grown up since their days of mischief as children, and became much more restricted. A false maturity to hide his soft soft heart. A way to separate and protect him self from the world. But now all his subconscious defences were down and it mattered not if anyone saw him weep, for he would never be ashamed of the profound emotion that engulfed him now. All that mattered was Corneliun. He felt a gentle hand lower his head to his friend's neck, where his tears could flow freely, safe from the world that surrounded them. A tender and warm embrace. The scent of Corn's skin was indeed as pleasant as it had been back in the day. For a comforting sensation of freedom, and safety in that very freedom, now held the two. Safety in their companionship. And perhaps for a moment, just for a moment they were children again. “I know,” he returned the whisper, playing with Valo's long red locks. “I have missed you too.” Finally his strong arms tightly squeezed the slender frame of the artist before the two parted. Face to face, they stood before one another a strong arm planted into Valo's shoulder as if to prolong the contact. The artist nervously wiped his eyes which were now blood shot and rims of red to match his hair had formed around them. And when his palm was soaked, he unrolled one cuff of his shirt and proceeded with the motion. The grin never fading from his face, showing all his white teeth, accompanied with chuckles of both joy and embarrassment. He was about to choke on his apologies, but Corneliun beat him to it. “Let me take you on an adventure around Ahnatep. Like old times.” spoke the man and there was both cunningness and temptation saturating his voice. A voice that Valo had missed so dearly and relished every time the sweet sound reached his ears, hanging onto the very last notes with almost desperation. A yearning to simply hear his companion speak more. And thus, straightening his back and facing Corneliun so directly he replied with the mischievous smile now permanently engraved into his feature of ivory. "Like old times." he said with such warmth saturating his smooth voice. And then his tone changed slightly and became an eager and humorous one. A chuckle accompanied his words. "Though I must warn you, if said adventure involves beer, I seem to have become quite the alcoholic." He was finally coming back to him self. The Valo that he truly was, not the broken and shattered porcelain doll that he became the moment he learned of Corneliun's identity. Boldness and charisma returned to him, a familiar spark to his eyes. The everlasting underlining of mischief beneath his skin. Yet he had changed thoroughly from those days in Wind Reach. His eloquence had improved greatly, becoming well composed sentences than just the occasional uses of big words that he perhaps didn't fully comprehend the meanings of. the words from books and the books from shelves in the Enclave. And by all means he had grown taller, much taller. Though this was a sudden sprout of growth in his late teenage years, leaving his an elegant gentleman. However now, it was time for an Adventure.

[Corneliun]

T.S.Time change to 17th Bell

Corneliun was pleased when he Valo smiled, the mischievous look upon his face. It was indeed like old times, for these two young men once more were taking themselves off onto an adventure. He could see the confidence once more grow in the man, the one who Corneliun remembered from his youth, and a man he would not trade.
“That makes two alcoholic’s then!” he gave a stead pat on the man’s shoulder, and quickly picked up his writing materials and slid them into the large pockets of his linen trousers. He adjusted his coat quickly so it hung off his shoulders a brief peaking of a tattoo coming out before he gave a nod to Valo. He allowed the man to gather his own things before he marched the way to the door and out into the heat of the Ahnatep sun.

He stuck to the shadier routes where possible. He led the way, his tongue explaining all the sights that he to him to see of the small histories and strange places. From the House of Precious Gems to the Temple of Syna, Corneliun took him on an adventure to see them all. Knowledge came from his lips, a deep understanding of the very city itself. Of course the young mixed blood found trouble with the locals, their somewhat disgusted looks falling upon his form. And as time came on, it would no doubt become clear that Ahnatep was in fact a city of narrow minded people. The humanoids were one from the bottom, the Dhani and Eypharian’s always being above them and were for the most part the majority. There was no point in trying to change them; they were already set in their ways. But it was this that made Corneliun throw himself even more forward.

Foolish, brave, or perhaps a simple attempt to be acknowledged as something other than a lesser race. Either way, Corneliun always gave a grin, a wild smile upon his face, with no signs of worry. But he always kept an eye on Valo and his well being, never letting him wander too far, and keeping him out of harm’s way. The sun passed through the sky from the twelfth bell right round to the seventeenth. It was during this time that the two men were around the Pavilion, its numerous tents selling all manner of trade goods. From barely to beer to all sorts of oddities. But Corneliun still led Valo on, through the maze of tents to a destination he knew far too well. The Serpent’s Elixer.

“And here we have, the Serpent’s Elixer,” he gave wicked grin before he patted Valo on the shoulder “Home of tonics and a equally vile concoctions. Come on, it’s too early for beer in this heat. Let’s get something else in us first.”
He gave Valo a small guided push into the tent, ducking in past Rasken the Dhani, the brewer of the tonics available here. He hinted a hand to a table at the edge, the low furniture filling the room whilst Corneliun went to speak once more to the Dhani. At first there was a series of mocking hisses from Corneliun’s throat, but then he spoke in Arumenic. He gave a smile, his thumb enclined to Valo before coins were exchanged. When Corneliun did return to Valo, he simply placed down the two glasses on the table, a yellow concoction filling them. He gave a grin, keeping his secrets about the liquid closely guarded.
“Drink up, it’s good.”

Cruel perhaps at it may seem that Corneliun chose to with hold the information about this liquid. This viper dosage was used for its great burst in energy and stamina. A nice idea indeed, but then there was the vile taste that one had to go through first. After all, it was not nicknamed Jackal’s Piss for nothing. But right now, he gave a look to Valo, that fixed, relaxed smile on his face as he raised his own glass as if to drink.

[Valo]

That answer pleased the young Inarta thoroughly, for he had been on the road for too long without the sweet taste of strong alcohol on his lips. And the prospect of indulging himself in sweet sweat intoxication was indeed somewhat intoxicating. Thus he proceeded to gather his few belongings but as he did so his eyes caught a glimpse of something rather interesting upon his dear friend's shoulder. A tattoo of some sort. Though what it depicted stayed a mystery for only a little was shown and only a little was caught by the keen, observant eyes of the artist. And for the most part of the afternoon the two of them indulged in a little tour of Ahntep. A barrage of strange looks and prying faces accompanied then along the way. Whether it was perhaps that the men only had two arms or were virtually incapable of snake speak, or was it for the exquisite colouring of their hair - for it wasn't only Valo who’s hair was fire. Corneliun shared in that red glow to his back hair which gleamed like fine red wine in the sun. A gift of his mixed heritage - prying eyes did not leave them be. And perhaps it would be truly unnerving if not that Valo was well and truly used to it by now, for wherever he went people and humanoids alike stared at the manifestation of the Fire god within him. At first it was unnerving, but with time he had grown quite fond of being an elaborate decoration, walking the soil of Mizahar. Of course none of that matters since all of his concentration was completely focused upon Corneliun. The complete entirety of it. Keen eyes marvelling upon who’s his friend has changed. No longer a child, he was now the most handsome of men. The childish curves having subsided from his feature, leaving his face that of a dashing rouge. For their eyes have frequently locked together, sharing in the connection and smiles were exchanged as they conversed a truly pleasant conversation. Like old times it was. Valo listened with intent as his comrade spoke, teaching him about the history and the features of Ahnatep and all the precious information he could possibly wish for. A man, yet a book, is what Corneliun was for he knew his city inside and out. And for that Valo's admiration grew for such abundance of knowledge was something he always held in high regard. Finally they came to a large conglomeration of tents and Corneliun led him to a very specific one where they relaxed in low furniture. The artist observed as his comrade conversed with the Dhani, who presumably owned the establishment and after a moment he returned with two glasses of a strange looking concoction. “Drink up, its good.” he spoke with most devilish of smiles. Valo eyes the glass and the yellow liquid within it. There was something within Corneliun's grin that caused him to not completely trust the man. None the less, the mixed blood wasted little time to ingest the horrid beverage and Valo fallowed in his footsteps, only to feel pure agony as the wretched taste made its way down his throat and into his gut. And at that very moment he wished he could cut his tongue off, only to escape this most vile of flavours. He even looked around but no knife was in sight. The cruel cruel fate. Corneluin would probably have experienced much enjoyment at the twisted features of Valo's face. Any onlooker would for the agony was clearly displayed within his feature of ivory. And he leaned over the table, looking somewhat out of character for his pose was completely broken, and his elbows implanted in the wood and he coughed and moaned subtly. "You are the devil." he exclaimed, sentence broken up by fits of coughing. The long hair now covered his face, blocking any more enjoyment on Corneliun's behalf and Valo gave out one final moan before coming to terms with the horrid concoction that trespassed upon his tongue. "You will pay for this." he threatened, though it was obvious that this was no less than a joke.

[Corneliun]

Corneliun gave a laugh as he watched as the artist cough and splutter at the vile liquid. He could hardly contain himself as the expression of Valo change, his entire body now crumpled over the table. And when he did speak between the coughs, the laughter became louder. Corneliun himself only gave a small wince when he drunk the liquid, namely because he was both prepared and accustomed to the liquids that existed here.
“That my good friend is Jackal’s Piss for you,” he gave Valo a pat on the back, a broad grin filling his lips “And I’m sure I will pay for this.”

He left no doubt that he was prepared to have a similar trick played upon him later, or that the two men would suddenly become competitive. But for the moment, Corneliun simply held his grin, as the buzz of the beverage hit him. He could feel the energy hit him, making him alert, and it was this same alertness that would keep him going late into the night. After a time the mixed blood composed himself, the raucous laughter dying down to a low chuckle. Corneliun was cruel indeed, but never the less it left him fulfilled that his small moment of amusement had entertained.

“What you think?” he leaned across the table to Valo, the look of mischief filling his face “Told you it was good.”
Or at least, it was good for Corneliun’s entertainment. He could see the Dhani shake his head, but there was no doubt the sense of amusement on his face. Corneliun turned his head once more to the Dhani, his tongue clicking in Arumenic, a request for another drink. Coins were exchanged and another two tonics were placed down on the table. This time two dark red liquids were placed before them, known as The Lash, and unlike the great stamina boosting properties it was this liquid that increased something else.
“Valo, what sort of women you like?” Corneliun brought a glass to his lips “You know to…”
It was a bold question indeed, and perhaps one that was slightly unexpected. It after all dipped into far more personal areas of Valo’s life. And it was clear exactly what the mixed blood meant. He gave a shrug, and sipped the salty yet sweet gelatinous liquid, a subtle wince on his face, before lowering the glass. He gave a grin, a smug look upon his face, that more devilish side coming out of him.

[Valo]

“That my good friend is Jackal’s Piss for you,” Corneliun's words of laughter filled the air around them. A laughter of gentle ridicule that was at the very centre of their friendship, and the very essence of it "Why, by the love of the fire god, would you make me drink this vile thing?" cried Valo, though laughter seemed infectious and now he too was laughing. Or perhaps not so much laughing, as choking with a twisted grin on his face But suddenly a strange feeling had hit him. A time of rejuvenation and vigour that coursed though his veins, spreading from the pit of his stomach to the most peripheral of his limbs. And he was more alert and awake. Like a good dose of caffeine it was, but somehow he knew that was not the case. “What you think?” he leaned across the table to Valo, the look of mischief filling his face. “Told you it was good.” "Not sure if good is quite the word to describe it." he scoffed in a grumpy manner, but the kick it gave him was definitely something and thus he could not retain this grumpy mood for long. "However it is definitely something." he added after one last moment of piecing together his composure. Not that he remained in this pretentious formality of his, though still retaining his gentlemanly and elegant self, Valo was now more relaxed. And that was apparent both in his speech and in the way he so freely carried him self around Corneliun. Glorious was this freedom in friendship. He watched as his comrade and the Dhani conversed in what he could only pin down as Arumenic for the exotic and convoluted sound of the words which made no sense to him what so ever. A strange sound to the ears which were so very used to the familiar Nari. And without much hassle another beverage was brought before them. “Valo, what sort of women you like?” Corneliun brought a glass to his lips “You know to…” It was indeed obvious what Corn meant and thus Valo nodded his head a little, lowering his voice. What came from his lips would probably be the least gentlemanly thing he ever said and so atrociously out of character for the elegant youth, it seemed. However he was still young and had yet to learn of the world and of the frightening creatures that women can be. "The cheaper the better I say." he murmured, his green eyes radiating with sparkles of mischief. And with those words he drank the deeply crimson concoction, repulsed a little by the strange texture but at the salty sweet flavour masked that of the previous wretched liquid. He had quickly caught the idea of this game.