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[Dallen]

Spring 514, 28

As Dallen walked down his street, headed towards the marketplace in West Street, something caught his eye. It was a well-dressed man who looked like he owned one of the stalls there, sitting on the ground. Normally, Dallen would've ignored him, but he stopped. The man had a bruise on the right side of his face, a dark line of purple and black stretching from his jaw to his ear. Intrigued and slightly concerned, he stepped towards the merchant. Keeping his face expressionless, Dallen said, "I couldn't help but notice the mark on your face, sir. Do you need any help? Should I report this to the Wave Guard?"
Startled, the man jumped a bit at Dallen's sudden greeting.
"No, no, I'm fine. Just hit my head on the beam supporting my stall. It's fine." Not quite convinced by the man, Dallen headed out to seek a nearby patrolman. Sighting a flash of the uniform of the Guard, Dallen quickly walked over to the man, saying, "Listen, I think that the merchant over there might be in some sort of trouble..." The Guard was turned around, so he didn't catch a glimpse of his face.

[Ricky Maze]

His day was like any other ordinary day at work, patrolling the routes given by his superior until his shift had ended, in which of course was the repetitive action Ricky played along with each passing day. Of course he never had the same kind of day as before, as each one somehow played out differently even if the end result was the same. Today though he'd gottent to see his wife and son while out on patrol, in fact just practically saw them off down the street after a short conversation happened to be shared. Thus as he watched Telion disappear around a street corner with one last glance casted his way, he smiled as he knew good and well she'd be waiting for him when he got home from work.

Now of course he felt ready to tackle the rest of his patrol and swore he would do so with confidence, he did after all play as an important role model for Martin even if the child had yet to realize it. Which meant he had to start setting examples, striving for things that were right and good so that in turn Martin would learn to do the same. Still he was only just a baby, so Ricky had plenty of time to focus on that before the child would finally begin learning from such examples. It was when he heard a voice from behind that he knew his work in the city would never seem to end, at least not until the shift he served did of course. Upon hearing that someone may yet be in trouble Ricky rolled his eyes with a bit of a silent chuckle, amused at how the call of duty never failed to amaze him with such good timing.

Once he turned to face who the concerned citizen was though his expression found a moment of surprise, only to be replaced with a friendly smile as he recognized that it was Dallen from last season who'd approached him. "Ah! Dallen! Didn't t'ink Oi'd be 'earin' fr'm ya in terms o' trouble so soon." He mused with another chuckle but this time a little more noticeable. "Ye say a merchant's gotta problem wit' somethin'? What is it mate? D'ya know by any chance?" He prodded curiously for information before taking any means of confrontation, it was important after all to have the details behind the assumption. Information was key and fact made his job much easier after all, so Dallen just really needed to share what he knew and Ricky would see what he could do then to help.

[Dallen]

"Ah! Dallen! Didn't t'ink Oi'd be 'earin' fr'm ya in terms o' trouble so soon. Ye say a merchant's gotta problem wit' somethin'? What is it mate? D'ya know by any chance?" Pleasantly suprised by Ricky's presence, Dallen smiled. "Hello, Ricky! Didn't expect to meet ya here! I'm pleasantly surprised, though." Dallen nodded towards the merchant. "I think he got beaten up, though I can't be sure. The bruise is a bit too... Clubby." Gesturing towards the man, he said, "It's too abnormal for just walking into a post. I mean, look! It's almost horizontal! How would you get that kind of bruise from just walking into a post?" Fingering the hem of the dark blue vest that he received for his birthday, a gift from Akia, he continued, "Besides, I've lived here for a while, and even though we're no Sunberth, there are still some East Street hooligans about." Waving Ricky towards the merchant, Dallen headed back, Ricky hopefully alongside.
When he reached the merchant's stall, he tapped the nervous-looking trader on the shoulder, and the merchant whipped around, startled. Glancing once at Ricky, the man stammered, "I-i alr-ready told y-you, I don't n-n-need any help." Dallen, still not convinced, even less so by the man's jumpy attitude, scratched his chin and said, "Well, that's up for my friend here to decide. Could you let him see that bruise?"

Secret :

Sorry for the long wait.
Also, you can control the merchant's actions, to an extent.

[Ricky Maze]

Ricky chuckled a little bit after he heard that Dallen was pleasantly surprised to see it was him, rather amused to the idea that both stood on mutual ground in terms of pleasant surprises. Last time Ricky saw Dallen while on duty, the artist was causing a bit of a stir at the docks because of the sailors there. Yet here and now the artist stood differently, instead of being the small troublemaker he was he instead found another, one who seemed to have experienced trouble all on their own. It amused Ricky even further to think that not that long ago they’d just met, and somehow Dallen was different from their first encounter. The changes in influences likely a probable cause, the fisherman could only surmise that Dallen had already taken the first steps he needed to become the proper man he intended to be in the future. That of course was all a matter of time, time and decision as it highly depended on what Dallen chose, as decisions were the very source of impact on a person’s life.

Upon the gesture to the merchant Ricky found himself a bit intrigued with Dallen’s assumption, let alone the bit of observation the artist had to have put in to piece it together. A bruise brought on by abuse it seems, one that didn’t seem naturally caused by some form of accident. Though this detail was something he noted he couldn’t just go with Dallen’s own word alone, being part of the Wave Guard after all did require a bit of investigating when rooting out problems at the source. Thus Ricky nodded in agreement that something had to be done, or that the matter at least needed to be looked into before anything else might occur. "Aight den mate, let’s see what dis vagik’s hidin’." He gestured to have Dallen lead the way as the artist waved for him to come along, and then followed him as they made their way over to the stall where the man resided. Ricky could already tell by the stutter in the merchant’s tone, as that was an obvious indication, that he hid something he didn’t want others to know about. Thus when Dallen requested for him to show Ricky the bruise, the shrug of denial the merchant had soon after went immediately ignored.

"Oy, best lemme take a look at dat mate. Oi ain’t one t’ dodge roun’ wit’ when it comes t’ hidin’ shyke." He forewarned the man as he leaned a little close, from Dallen’s perspective of everything he could likely see that Ricky took his job rather seriously. Upon further observing the stern expression in the fisherman’s face though, Dallen would likely learn by now that Ricky was one not to so easily cross. Ricky may have looked authoritative well enough but there was more so a bit of aggravation brought on by something else, likely the dodgy manner this man took when it came to be examined to see the nature of this mark on his face. "Ye been dealin’ wit’ any bad characters ‘r shady folk roun’ East Street?" He finally brought up after deep consideration was put into it. After Ricky took note of the nervous tone, which demonstrated evasiveness, and the nature of the bruise, which suggested force from a blunt object like a fist or something of the sort, he came to the conclusion that this merchant likely had it in with some ruffians near the market. Likely someone from East Street since more criminal activity took place there, although the Denvali were a bit more lenient in their ways in regards to the law here.

Still Ricky waited to hear what this merchant had to say with sharp eyes deadlocked onto him; there was no change in the posture or expression he held as he waited for an explanation. Ricky would either have it or try to coerce it from this man however he needed to, either way he didn’t like it when one hindered his job performance by avoiding telling him what he needed to know.

[Dallen]

Dallen McHenderson

"Oy, best lemme take a look at dat mate. Oi ain’t one t’ dodge roun’ wit’ when it comes t’ hidin’ shyke." At Ricky's close examination, the merchant flinched, and raised his hand, as if to ward off a blow. Looking into Ricky's stern face, the man didn't calm down much, if at all. "Ye been dealin’ wit’ any bad characters ‘r shady folk roun’ East Street?" At his direct question, the man broke into a sprint, and attempted to break past Ricky, but tripped over a coil of rope, and fell to the ground. Moving quickly to the man, Dallen helped him up, but kept a firm grip on the man. His face stone cold, the artist spoke with a surprising lack of emotion to his voice. "Answer the man. He asked you politely. And you wouldn't want to be rude, would you?" Dallen tried to look as threatening as possible, leaning in close, with his face emotionless.

The man, nervous as he was, was caught between the choice of trying to run away again, or telling Ricky the truth, and he didn't know what to do. Head whipping between Ricky and Dallen, he sighed and slumped, shaking off Dallen's hand. Putting his head between his hands, he looked at the ground and started to speak. "I d-didn't want t-to tell you this, but it's n-not anyone from East Street. In fact, I don't think he's even BEEN to East Street more than once." Gathering up his breath, he let it all out, and said, "I-it's my father. He does th-this to me, but h-he doesn't usually hit my f-face." Looking up at Ricky pleadingly, he said, "Don't do anything, please! He may hit me, but he's my father, and I love him." Dallen, for the first time, saw how young the man was, around the age of seventeen. The young merchant continued, "E-ever since m-mother died, h-he's been drinking, a-almost all the time." Shaking his head, he put on a weak smile, and said, "But h-he's not like this all the time! There's some times when h-he's sober, when he's the nicest person in the world!" Voice breaking, he sobbed. "Don't t-take him away from m-me! He's th-the only f-family I h-have left!"

OOC(I know this isn't probably what you thought would happen, but plot twists are how I roll. )

Other's Words My Words

[Ricky Maze]

Of course resistance could’ve been expected out of this man but Ricky didn’t honestly think him stupid enough to try and get away, fate and luck didn’t favor him enough though as he apparently caught something in his escape, and fell over momentarily after the attempt had been tried. De petch is wrong wit’ dis guy?! Ricky swore under his breath in silence as he was about to pull the merchant to his feet, Dallen of course held greater initiative and acted before Ricky did. What happened next sort of surprised and even better intrigued Ricky, though he was more focused in art Dallen seemed to show something else just now, a sort of passion for his alleged friend as they both investigated what conflicted this man so. What Ricky saw was another form of potential, this form the kind that could serve well towards the people of the city.

Did Dallen have the spirit to be a Wave Guard? He certainly held a strong Zeltivan spirit within him just now, stern and hardy enough to confront this poor soul and make him somehow talk. Even if Ricky felt it should’ve been his job in doing this investigation, he couldn’t deny the fact Dallen was the one that demonstrated the same sort of potential Ricky looked for in others, the potential to stand up and defend the place you call home. For Ricky it was a matter of keeping safety in the mind and hearts of those around him, mainly his family and friends but the rest of Zeltiva mattered just as well. Being a part of the Wave Guard was the very thing that allowed him to do that, thus when he saw the very same potential in Dallen’s act of decency he questioned whether or not he should ask the artist to join. Later on, f’r now just focus on what’s goin’ on now. He reminded himself as the merchant seemed to finally cave in, what Ricky failed to notice before seemed to finally stand clear now.

The merchant wasn’t fully a man, about to be sure but not completely there. He had much to learn, just as many others did in this world. Yet to see the boy endure something such as a beating, a beating from his own father no less, somehow struck a major blow on Ricky’s own heart. He felt bitter, angry towards the act and the cruelty that cloaked it. How could a father beat his own son? Sure he could imagine himself falling into the same act, drinking a lot because he’d lost his wife, because in turn he loved both Telion and Martin… yet he wouldn’t allow himself to fall so far down as to beat his own child. Such an act would… no… he couldn’t go there, he couldn’t allow himself to fall into further bitterness behind the imagination. It was wrong. He felt it wrong. Now of course he heard the plea of what seemed to be a child, a child fearful to the fact he could very well lose his father from this even after he’d already lost his mother.

It would’ve sickened him were it under another circumstance, yet all Ricky could feel was empathetic heartache. What would Martin do if he only had Ricky? What kind of father would that make him if he became the same sort of man this boy’s father did? It was a perspective he had to take into account, a role he had to consider and dwell on in order to fully understand it. For some reason this man lost his way and in turn lost himself, and reflected his pain through alcohol and beatings on the only thing left in his life. He was lost. A lost soul… but not a lost cause. So this could very well mean that they could help the boy, that is of course if the boy was willing to help them in turn. Oi canny ‘urt de lad... de best t’ing t’ do is ‘elp ‘im out. The assertive expression he held earlier had already transitioned into a pitiable one, one look into Ricky’s face could easily tell that he felt for the young man already.

"Alroi’ now look," He had a bit of a sincere look that held pure honesty in his eyes, "Oi won’t arrest yer fat’er nor do anyt’in’ t’ ‘urt ‘im, just take me t’ ‘im so Oi can ‘ave a discussion wit’ de man. Maybe Oi can talk some sense int’ ‘im an’ he’ll come roun’ fr’m dese beatins he does." There wasn’t no guarantee but Ricky did his best to assure the young merchant that he, and Dallen too, would only try to make things better for the grown up. Though the situation was different Ricky could very well understand the pain of loss, he did after all lose several important people in his life and the pain from each loss made him only stronger. Now it was his turn to try and help another man see the same light, so that things would be easier down the road.

He would wait and hope to hear the answer from the young man, but somehow he already knew that the answer would turn out in the form of a “yes”. Whether it was a promise or such Ricky would confirm it and agree that they would only talk unless things got out of hand, but no matter what they were going to help this father change for the better before the end of the day. When they were finally about to head off Ricky caught Dallen by the arm, the need to finally share what he had too strong to keep within. It would only be loud enough for Dallen to hear, but all the same it was important as it could very well change Dallen’s view on things. "Oy, what ya did den was brave. Little rough but brave all de same, s’why Oi t’ink ye’ll make a fine recruit in de Wave Guard should it interest ya." When he said this he patted Dallen on the shoulder with a gentle smile, a few final words before they would set off to wherever this man lived. "We’ll see ‘ow ya handle dis first, den talk ‘bout gettin’ ya t’ sign up." He assured the artist with a genuine chuckle, and gave the reminder that if Dallen were actually interested, then Ricky would help him join the ranks however he could.

[Dallen]

Dallen McHenderson

"Alroi’ now look, Oi won’t arrest yer fat’er nor do anyt’in’ t’ ‘urt ‘im, just take me t’ ‘im so Oi can ‘ave a discussion wit’ de man. Maybe Oi can talk some sense int’ ‘im an’ he’ll come roun’ fr’m dese beatins he does." At Ricky's kindly face, the boy broke down and sobbed, nodding emphatically. Following behind Ricky, he said, "Th-thank you.. If yo- If you could really do th-that, then I-I'd be forever in your debt. M-my house is th-this way." The merchant walked towards the Denvali Quarter, standing slightly straighter, but to anyone not observant enough he would've looked the same, slouching, and sad-faced.

"Oy, what ya did den was brave. Little rough but brave all de same, s’why Oi t’ink ye’ll make a fine recruit in de Wave Guard should it interest ya." Patting on Dallen on the shoulder, he continued with a gentle smile. "We’ll see ‘ow ya handle dis first, den talk ‘bout gettin’ ya t’ sign up."

Dallen didn't say anything, but instead clapped a hand on Ricky's shoulder, and gripped it tightly. "How could... someone's father do.... that? Just... beat him, like an animal? I don't understand why someone would turn on their child like that... I never had a real father, but I know how one should act... If I lost my mother or Akia, I'd probably react adversely, but this? This is an abomination. We need to right this...." Turning to Ricky, Dallen smiled grimly, eyes stormy and grey. "I appreciate the offer. It'd be great to finally do something to change this city." Walking after the boy, Dallen said, "I'll seriously consider it. Now, for the moment, we need to focus on the troubles of the boy." Looking away, his face became hard, emotionless. No one, except someone close to him, or observant enough, would see that he adopted a persona of emotionless calm to keep himself from breaking down and crying. If one could look deep enough into his eyes, and note the way his steps were jerky, (barely noticeable, but to the skilled observer, he or she would notice that he was forcing himself forward,) he would see that the only thing keeping him going was the will to help this young man.

When the boy reached the residences north of West Street, Dallen (and hopefully Ricky as well,) in tow, he pointed out a smallish, yet still very well-to do home, made of old wood and black shingles. The door looked solid, and the windows were all closed. Turning to Ricky, Dallen motioned the Wave Guard forward, letting the man with authority take the lead.

Other's Words My Words

[Ricky Maze]

Ricky couldn’t have really anticipated the reaction Dallen would have towards his proposal but what he should’ve seen was the reaction towards the abuse this boy suffered, it was only natural he would feel bitter towards the act with little understanding towards the reasoning. It sometimes took a clear head and broad mind to see the perspective in things, something that everybody failed to think on when it came to situations that looked to be one sided. Where Dallen saw this as a act of wrong in general he was correct, yet there was more to the situation as a whole that Ricky thought to consider first. It wasn’t that the fisherman didn’t agree with what Dallen felt, honestly he did in a way feel torn up about the whole issue, and it was mostly just the fact that while there was conflict waiting to be resolved there was a reason behind that conflict.

Simply put the father felt lost somehow and didn’t know what he could do, thus he needed a helping hand to set him on the right path once again. For Ricky that looked to be something they could help fix a little, but only that specific father alone could work to strive for a better outlook once they’d helped him see the light of things. "’ey now, relax mate." He patted the artist’s shoulder with a bit of concern. "Believe it or not t’ing’s like dis ‘appen off an’ on, Oi lost me pa twice an plenty o’ ot’ers just as important in me life. If Oi hadn’t things t’ keep me goin roi now, Oi’d very well likely fallen on de same pat’ as ‘e did." His reason for explaining this was to more so help bring a bit of perspective into Dallen’s point of view, as an artist Ricky figured the man would see the picture as a whole to begin with. "Point bein’ mate, Oi was once lost just as dis man is now, de difference is dat we’ve gotta prove t’ dis man ‘e is just lost, not a lost cause like ‘e t’inks ‘e is." When Dallen then agreed that he would like to think more on joining the Guard after this was done, Ricky allowed himself a slight smile with a gentle nod in approval.

It was a smile that while dismal proved that Ricky still felt there was hope in this situation; hope that what was left for this family would still survive. He took it to heart to try and mend what he could in the relationship between this father and son, and set it to mind that his determination wouldn’t be swayed in the effort to help these two. They both followed the young man down the street a ways until at last they seemed to arrive at the destination, the appearance of his home a strange resemblance to the binds that shackled the boy to endure his father’s change in behavior. During the walk Ricky hadn’t paid full attention to Dallen as he solely focused on following the young lad more than the artist, but his occasional looks to the potential recruit proved interesting enough. Dallen looked rather firm but absolute in terms of resolve, he also wanted to help this merchant find peace with his father before things got out of hand. Pretty soon they would.

Upon arrival Ricky was allowed to take the lead since he was the authoritative one here, so without further ado the fisherman approached the door and curled his fingers inward to softly make a fist. He used his knuckles to knock on the door and did so only two or three times, each knock loud enough to grab the attention of whoever resided on the other side of the door. He would wait and hope to keep things civil between everyone, positive that he could try and settle this matter diplomatically. It all depended on the man that resided within though, and most importantly the actions he took too. Though he hated any forms of fighting well enough Ricky was by far unafraid to stop one, being familiar with rules of engagements he preferred to end a brawl or fist fight just as soon as it began.

[Dallen]

Dallen McHenderson

"’ey now, relax mate. Believe it or not t’ing’s like dis ‘appen off an’ on, Oi lost me pa twice an plenty o’ ot’ers just as important in me life. If Oi hadn’t things t’ keep me goin roi now, Oi’d very well likely fallen on de same pat’ as ‘e did. Point bein’ mate, Oi was once lost just as dis man is now, de difference is dat we’ve gotta prove t’ dis man ‘e is just lost, not a lost cause like ‘e t’inks ‘e is." Ricky's sympathetic words calmed Dallen, and he nodded, contemplative. Maybe... Maybe there's more to this... I don't know...

As they approached his house, the young merchant took cautious, quick steps, almost silently approaching the door with Ricky. When the Wave Guard tapped on the door, he moved to the side, as if he wanted to move out of the way. A slurred voice came from the depths of the house. "Oh, boy, yer back... don't come in inlesh 'er done shumtin right today..." As the door unlatched, a ragged-looking man who looked to be around the age of forty, with disheveled brown, almost black hair, and rumpled brown clothing emerged. Glancing once at his son, the man's primary attention was on Ricky, and he was staring at his uniform, startled by a change in routine. The son, looking nervous, tapped his fingers together, saying, "Father... this man.. he w-wants to speak to you..." The older man's face turned purple, and he rose a hand, as if to smack him, but stopped, looking at Ricky again. The boy, flinching, scrambled off the front steps to his home, and stood next to and slightly behind Dallen.

Growling, the man turned back into the house, and left the door open, saying with a surly expression, "Shut the door behind you, you bloody git." Dallen's face flushed, as he thought the man was talking to him, but became even redder as he realized that he was talking to his son. Doing his best to wipe any emotion or color from his face, Dallen stood next to the door, leaning against the wall. The merchant's father sat down in an armchair, and pulled a half- empty bottle of wine off of his desk. Swigging it, until the bottle was completely empty, he turned to Ricy, and said, "Alrigh', whaddaya wan' wit' me, Guard. If this boy's been telling you anythin' about me..." He shot his son a poisonous look, who shied away, staying behind Ricky.

Other's Words My Words NPC's Words

[Ricky Maze]

Ricky's own response was that of a grimace that could've dropped into a scorn had he not properly practiced hiding the emotion, he could literally smell the booze that resided within this place as well as the toxicity it brewed within it's heart. When the father threatened to beat his son by the mere change in the number of people that followed him home, Ricky's eyes dropped into a fierce piercing glare that would've burned a hole through the man's chest, were he capable of doing so anyway. When he was invited within the walls of this boys home Ricky only glanced to Dallen once, and when he did so the artist would know then that he too felt a strong passion to right the wrong this man had been doing.

How he would accomplish this was something Ricky didn't know yet, he hoped simple diplomacy would work but in the event things did go south... well let's just say part of Ricky would enjoy putting this man in his place. There would be no violence today hopefully, but should a dispute unfold then Ricky would only subdue the drunk with as few injuries as possible. Perhaps then he would get through and knock down those barriers, but even then what would Ricky say to help the man come to his senses? Even if Ricky wanted to talk with this man, he hadn't the faintest idea what to say in truth. Never did when it came to reaching out to others really, but now wasn't the time to worry about that it seems.

Upon being questioned, funny since it was Ricky who was to do just that, Ricky rose an eyebrow as though he were being challenged by this man. He practically was considering the circumstances, but alas there wasn't any time left to wonder any more. Now he had to go with his gut and his instincts as a father too, and let whatever happens next unfold before him. "First off Oi want ye t' quit lookin' at yer boy like 'e is a piece o' meat f'r one, an' second Oi want ya t' drop dat bottle so Oi know Oi've got yer undivided attention." Ricky commanded with a serious tone of voice that likely set the young merchant on edge, a short and small but reassuring grin was cast to him when Ricky glanced to the boy only once before he resumed his gruff exterior.

"Yer boy ain't tol' me not'in ye should worry bout, only dat yer drinkin' 'abits lead t' a proper beatin'. Judgin' from what Oi've seen already Oi can see just 'ow it works too." Ricky crossed his arms with an aggressive expression on his face, deep blue eyes cast a fearsome storm over to the drunk's way as he continued on. "De only concern Oi 'ave is why ye feel so inclined t' beat 'im all de same, when ya should be doin' de work o' a proper fat'er an' settin' a good example f'r 'im. Beatin' him roun' like a slave isn't all dat encouragin ya know." He shook his head in disapproval and waited to hear what sorry pitiful excuses the drunk would have to come up with, believe it or not Ricky actually felt pretty calm in this moment even when he appeared to be losing his temper.