1st of Vhalar 719
Zuny had studied her face from line to line, all through his childhood and into adolescence and adulthood. She'd always seen him as a little brother, or perhaps just another Orphan to arrive out of the Lust's Fallacy, albeit honored with the acceptance of the ladies that lived there. His mother had named him Zunylanih, in Ulehi, which meant roughly translated 'Our Joy'. Thus named, he did everything to earn it, by capering about and acting the fool for the ladies, making them laugh and cheering them up when they were down. Foot rubs when they were sore, and head rubs when they had trouble sleeping. Brushing hair when it got... tangled.
He'd studied Geneva's face, and thus knew it from line to line. He was confident in his instruction by the elders, as all Yludih initiated into the secrets and mysteries of their races were. He could probably even take her form, after a fashion. While he couldn't necessarily take on every aspect of her appearance, he could put on a male version of her face.
He'd been inspired of late. This was the year, the season, the trial, before she faded and withered like an aged rose. She was nearing forty, yet was as beautiful as ever, a ghostly, ethereal figure. Yet he would've loved her had she been old, wrinkled, and pickle-nosed. He would give her a lover worthy of her, to send her off into her twilight years.
The answer came to him in a dream, as things often do. He would give her a lover that reflected her brilliance and loveliness. He would give her a male version of herself!
He knew where to start, as well. While Geneva had her share of suitors and gentleman callers at the Fallacy, there was one particular piece of manhood that dragged her under more often than not. He was tall, swarthy, and well built. The physique of a Helice statue. His face a throwback to the Shay. In short, he was everything that Keque wasn't.
But that was fine! That was okay! Keque would outpace him! He was Yludih, more than that, he was a great wearer and appreciator of masks. He could even probably play this Alphonse better than the man himself! Keque giggled in mirth at this realization, as he stole into the streets.
Many times he'd followed Alphonse home from his visits to Geneva. He wasn't stalking him. He wanted to know where he lived, in case he upset Geneva. It was important that Keque stay apprised of the location of his love's callers. In case he upset her. Because she was a delicate flower, even at the age she was, on the verge of forty arcs. He still saw that soft, ethereal creature that was kind to everyone who walked into her house.
He moved through the streets with a purpose. He knew his target to be a Heap. A hard working heap, to afford to enjoy Geneva's hospitality. Or else she took pity on him. That was possible, being as she was such a generous soul, full of grace and bounty.
He turned across the corner, to the door that stood out from the alley. Yes, he'd followed him through that door before, pretending to be about on his own business, another penniless Heap.
Slow now, he approached that door. His soft boots falling on the ground with caution as he got nearer. He recalled the way through the hallways and stairs leading up to the upper levels of the flop house. There, he knew he'd find Alphonse.
He'd first need to follow the sounds of creaking and animalistic grunting coming from upstairs. Following his ears, Keque made his way up the stairs, hopping with glee as he made his way through the corridors. Onto the proper floor of the flop house, and down the hall. Five doors down, to the left. There he knocked, to hear muffled talking from within. Another few knocks, and a whistle. More insistent muffled chatter, then a sudden shout.
One, two, three knocks, such as he'd seen his lair contact make the magic door open, to where Alphonse lived! Then, there was much commotion and movement from within. People throwing on their clothes more than likely. Keque would've liked to look through the keyhole for a peek, but restrained himself. He was about serious business.
Shortly, the door opened to reveal a bedraggled female, wearing a rough spun sheet wraped around her emaciated form. She wasn't very well fed by the look of her, probably another starving desperate in this flop house. She slipped by Keque before he could get a better look or ask her a question.
Behind her, was Alphonse, standing in a sarong wrapped around his lower body. Once they were rid of his guest, Keque invited himself in, and Alphonse didn't stop him, much like he'd let in the lair viceman.
"Well, I'm out of blue tongue. Where the fuck have you been all this time?" Alphonse interrogated Keque, who clearly hadn't the faintest idea what he was about. Keque knew nothing of such substances. He said nothing, but instead extended his arms into a comical shrug.
Alphonse's jaw tightened, when he realized the clown he'd let into his flat may not be who he expected. Keque began rifling through his own pockets, trying to buy some more time for himself. He pretended that he did in fact have something for Alphonse. This seemed to placate him, which gave Keque greater amount of time to observe his face, memorize the lines and features therein. "I will become Alphonse, the brainless brute..." Keque was muttering out, before he caught himself. Then he realized what he was saying, and stood stock straight.
Alphonse furrowed his brow deep, and ground his teeth together in consternation, "Did you call me a brute, lice brain?"
"I called you a brainless brute, Alphonse!" Keque said cheerfully. In a moment, he was standing before Alphonse, who was half naked from his tryst with the vagabond woman. The next moment, he saw Alphonse's fist sailing for his face. It happened so fast, yet time seemed to slow as it approached, burning every frame into Keque's visual memory. Until the knuckles found purchase on his brow.
The force of the punch knocked Keque flat on his back, and he felt a slight fracture in his brow. Bringing his hand to the wound, he took it away, only to see the illusory blood. "Y... you struck me! I'll have you flogged by the Scarlets!"
"Heh, you and what nel? Gonna sell your sack cloth shirt and let them whip you into a frenzy?"
Keque felt something bubbling up as he listened to the insult, and it was an insult. That this brute thought himself worthy of one such as Geneva. He was not. He was not worthy of the raggedy woman who'd slipped by as he opened the door. He was not worthy of spilling blood upon the floor! He was not worthy of anything at all! He was not worthy of the ground he'd meet after his fall!
Keque handled one of his bronze masks in his pocket. The angry one. With his mind's eye, he envisioned throwing it at the man, with all speed and accuracy. He'd practiced the motions with his arms and wrist and hand.
He handled the mask by it's eyeholes, as he approached Alphonse. There, the lug stood before him, unmoved by his approach. Swift as a serpent, Alphonse's arms shot forward to push away Keque. Keque stumbled on his feet a moment, shaking his head and smirking mirthless toward the side. He tried again to approach. Same push. The last time he attempted it, he was ready, and modified the speed of his approach. He jumped forward, and smacked Alphonse's face with the flat part of his mask.
A crunch and sickening snap sound resounded from the walls on the contact. At that, the man before him was enraged, and went berserk on poor innocent Keque.
Keque was clever though, Keque was ready. He held the mask high above his head, and used the narrow of the mask to smash in on Alphonse's temple. He was knocked out near at the instant.
Without much more trouble, Keque knelt down to study the features of Alphonse's face, one last time. He took out a knife, and went to work, the better to understand what shaped his face in such a way, so that he might better mimic it...
The man's face was unrecognizable by the time Keque was done. Every other part of the man that was identifiable was smashed up and mutilated as the man lie unconscious and soon died from blood loss and shock.
By the time Keque left there, he was wearing the mask and bodysuit of Alphonse. He would show Geneva what true romance was all about! He would bring her the thing she craved, true, beautiful, and unrelenting love!
