Chapter 1: Chapter 1
We are all the masks we wear and mine is weeping.' The voice whispered in Blaise's head. He lay there awake, unable to sleep in the dark of the night. A loud sigh ripped from his throat as he rolled over and looked at the large red figures on the nightstand. Two in the morning. Far too early for this kind of thing. The shadows of the night danced before him as his thoughts returned to those fateful words. 'We are all the masks we wear and mine is weeping.' Not his choice of phrasing, not even his words. Someone else's thoughts in his thoughts. Someone else's mind in his mind. His strong arms reached up and clutched his head in agony. Those eleven fateful words screamed resoundingly in his mind, piercing his throbbing mind like needles stabbing into his skull. He trudged out of bed, wide awake, but incredibly tired.
He felt a strange mixture of exhausted and energetic at the same time. It almost mimicked an adrenaline rush. He knew this energy wasn't natural, more something sent from a very primal part of his mind. Turning on the bathroom light and staring at his face in the mirror, he couldn't shake the unnerving feeling that someone was watching him. He stared intently for a few minutes and the image fluctuated, the reflective surface of the mirror rippling like movement on a lake. The reflection that stared back at him now was not his own. Nor had he ever seen it before. His slightly tanned skin was now a deep ochre, his sky blue eyes replaced with two golden jewels, his bare chest now marked with spiraling tattoos, forged from the fabric of the night, his short, shaggy, russet hair was replaced by long, thick locks of raven-black hair, scattered with feathers and bones. His eyes widened. His mouth opened in a silent scream.
Once again, the visage shifted and the ochre skin hardened and shifted to a grey hue. The luscious locks of hair disintegrated. His features froze entirely. He was ensnared in a confining net. He couldn't move and he had to watch helplessly as he transformed into a heinous creature. A stone creature. His vision blacked over with stone. His vision wavered, blurred, then turned black.
Blaise jolted awake. His hand fluttered to his chest and his eyes snapped open. The pale moonlight glimmered through the large window panes, shining on him in his semi-conscious stupor. Once again, he checked the clock for the time. Dammit he was late. He pulled on his ripped jeans and leather vest. Luckily, he'd put steps in place in case he overslept. His usual chains and gloves were in his pockets, anyway. Blaise's hand closed over his guitar case and he sprinted out the door to The Darkest Light, his local bar.
As he ran, his hands fumbled with the chains, creating a hypnotic jingling sound. Once again, he heard the voice in his head, 'We are all the masks we wear and mine is weeping.' But this time it wasn't a dream. His heart quickened, but he kept going, trying to ignore the sound of it drilling into his head.
His hand pushed open the large, wooden door, inscribed with midnight lettering. His eyes took in the large crowd of hulking people hunched over bar stools in the dingy lighting. Blaise set his jaw and barged his way through the throng of people to the small stage set up for him. His hands unclipped the case to his guitar and lovingly took out the beautiful electric guitar he had known for so long. He plugged it in and leaned over the microphone, shouting to the whole room. "How y'all doing tonight?! I'm Rebel Ryder and this is Outlaw!" He strummed his guitar with passion, closing his eyes and letting the music guide him.
"Sirens flickering in your tail lights,
Your lost love's your only flaw,
You kill,
You steal,
You burn the daylight,
Cause you're my bad, broken outlaw,
With a kiss goodbye,
You told me to hide,
You'd make everything okay,
You'd make it all go away,
Sirens flickering in your tail lights,
Your lost love's your only flaw,
You kill,
You steal,
You burn the daylight,
Cause you're my bad, broken outlaw,
Yeah, you're my outlaaaw."
His lyrics came to a close with a soulful note and he almost seamlessly moved onto his next song. His set continued for a while, his experienced hands running up and down the neck of his guitar. Patrons came and went, not paying attention to his music, some sat and listened, but most just went about their daily life, swigging beer and chatting idly. But their interest didn't bother him, Blaise just kept singing his heart out, his head completely lost in the music. He closed up his set with a romantic, soulful song.
"Her lips taste like cherry grenadine,
When she kisses me I'm high on adrenaline,
Her love is knocking at the door,
And I can't take it anymore,
She rocks me to my core,
Take me by the hand,
Let me take you by the heart,
Let me get you going,
Let me show you how it starts,
Let's not look back,
Let's smash the rearview mirror,
Fade away into the light of day,
Take my hand,
Come with me,
We'll kiss the horizon,
This is love,
This is letting go of fear."
His eyes slowly opened, only to take in a smattering of applause. "Thank you. I've been Rebel Ryder." He stepped down from the stage, with his guitar safely stowed away in its case in his hand and walked up to the bartender. She was a small, but fierce-looking woman. She wore a studded, red tank top, covered with an undone, sleeveless leather jacket and tight, leather leggings. Her hazel eyes twinkled at him and her lips curved into a wolfish grin as he sidled up, her lip ring clinking gently against her teeth. Her black hair fell in her face as she handed him the money. "One fifty for the star-crossed lover boy." She teased him with a wicked smile. He took the money and mirrored her sultry smile. "You know ya love me really, Ray." He winked, ordering a glass of whiskey and a shot of patrón. Raven's hands whirled as she poured the drinks. As she splashed the vodka into the glass, a drop or two caught her finger. She looked him dead in the eye and sucked her finger gently, winking at him. He smiled wickedly in return and downed the shot. As she handed him the whiskey, her ringed fingers touched his and they locked eyes again, their lips curving into the self same smile of sultry flirtation. Voices broke their reverie, one from the other end of the bar, demanding the attention of the 'pretty little girl' and the other from inside Blaise's head, once again whispering about the 'masks'. "Sorry, hun, duty calls." She sashayed away with an apologetic smile and a lingering touch, but his mind wasn't focused on her anymore. His thoughts were dragged away by that deep voice in his head, repeating those eleven words; "We are all the masks we wear, and mine is weeping."
Blaise rubbed his temples and guzzled the whisky, desperate to get the voice out of his head. His vision seemed to blur, the lights growing dimmer and a cloud of black consuming him. A falling sensation overtook him and from the dark, the voice boomed again, louder this time, ringing in his ears like a church bell. It repeated its programmed message, and out of the blackness came forth a faded, parchment map, focused on a small island. Easter Island. Images flashed before him. Fire. Blood. Death. Severed heads. Pain. Anguish. Skin turning black and charred. Skin turning into stone. And then returning to the empty darkness. The voice came again and before Blaise's eyes appeared the face from his dream. It whispered "Come find me" and blew out a breath of smoke, which enveloped the vision. The sounds in his head ebbed away, until all he could hear was the deep thud of his own heart. The darkness consumed him...
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone