Marked [EverlyxSterling]

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Once back in her apartment, Kassi eyed the large stack of paintings. She didn't know enough people to give them all away properly. Perhaps she should just put them in a box outside and write 'free' on it. Or maybe she should just chuck them in the garbage bin and be done with it. She doubted anybody would really be interested anyway, apart from Mikel. Milliane had become home and she didn't want to leave, but.. if that Markings Act or whatever it was called did pass, what was she supposed to do? Live like a fugitive? She blinked, realizing it would be little different than what she did now. Stay home almost constantly, leave only for food and fresh air. She was already a prisoner thanks to her own body. Why couldn't she be normal and have some wonderful man interested in her because to him, she was perfect? It seemed so unfair.

She recalled a memory from her childhood, when she had still been in school. Her seat was at the back of the class, where she could not cause chaos. Her teacher had been speaking about Markings and she hadn't been listening, but then a little jerk of a boy had piped up and asked what was wrong with the Unmarked. Everybody had turned to stare at her, she remembered. Oh, it had made her cheeks burn. So humiliating.. Instead of scolding the children for their silent mockery, the teacher had given her own version of the truth. The Unmarked did not deserve soul mates, she had said. They were not capable of loving, so nobody had to be forced to deal with them for their entire lives. Kassi had left school early that day and hidden out in the woods, too ashamed to continue with her classes. Her parents had been furious when the school called to tell them she was skipping..

She shook her head and pulled on her jacket, stuffing her key and wallet in her pocket before going outside. Might as well enjoy the fresh air while she could. She avoided the park, not wanting to see any dried blood or evidence of the earlier violence there today. A pregnant woman, dead. She doubted the woman had really attacked the man. It seemed ridiculous, but what sane person would believe an Unmarked? She couldn't defend herself on the stand now that she was dead anyway. It was his word, and Milliane was rallying to his cause. Josiah Davies would go down as a hero with a room full of flowers and get well cards, while the nameless Unmarked would get a cold grave and no mourners.

That made her change course.

It was a cut and dry situation, and she knew the city wouldn't bother with an autopsy. The woman would probably be buried the next day if she hadn't already. Kassi swore to herself to visit the grave, but in the meantime, she was walking to the cemetery anyway. There was a section there for Unmarked people, because they tended not to have anybody to speak up for them. So they were clustered together, abandoned and forgotten. She liked to visit, to let them know that somebody in the city cared, though she didn't dare go often. Head down, she entered the cemetery gates and wandered through the rows until she heard voices.

"Ooh, look! A chick! Hey, you, girl. Come here."
"Yeah, come here! We're bored!"
"I could use some pretty company.."
"Where's your man, huh?"

Kassi blinked and looked up, her steps coming to a halt as she realized four men were standing in the cemetery, leaning against a few of the stones as they smirked at each other. They looked about nineteen or twenty, if she had to guess. Even from here she could see the markings on their arms. Obviously none of them had felt the Calling yet. She frowned, decidedly uncomfortable with the way they were looking at her. Perhaps it would be best to ignore them. She looked away, turning her steps to the side to continue on, but they weren't about to drop the subject that easily. One came up beside her, smelling strongly of cigarettes.

"Hey, pretty lady. I think I feel a connection here. Show me your Marking, I think we match," he invited, grinning at her.

"Uh.. no," she denied quickly, her voice quiet. Oh dear. This could get bad. "We don't match," she attempted.

"Are you sure?" he pressed, amused. "No way to know unless we look, unless you're one of those diseased Unmarked scum!"

She hesitated, then turned and ran for it, ignoring the shouts behind her as she picked a route at random and looped around back the way she had come. All she had to do was outrun them and find a place to hide. Simple.
 
Each step Mikel took was marked by the crunch of chipped stone underfoot. The gray path before him was straight and narrow, and bisected the crisply trimmed lawn. The forested edges gave wide margin, and the misty understory drifted toward the Sanctuary path in wispy tendrils. Many have attested to the sense of reassurance the path grants; it's linearity is said by Seekers to align the spirit after the seeming chaos of wandering.

The Sanctuary structure sat in the center of the lawn, and the building's light gray stone shone with luminance against the dull, stormy sky. Despite the burning questions in Mikel's mind, he had to admit that the architecture, and the symmetry of the approach sequence, both instilled a meditative effect upon the mind. A thin man in gray vestment robes stood patiently at the entrance, waiting for Mikel. The man had short-cropped white hair, and his brown eyes seemed to slice through the fog. The Wiseman bowed slightly as Mikel stopped before him.

"Welcome, my son." He stood tall, and motioned inside. "Please," the Wiseman invited.

Mikel stepped solemnly into the stone structure and into a small, private room. An assortment of white, furled smocks hung on the wall from wooden pegs. Mikel removed his shirt and donned a large-sized smock. The inside texture felt silky against his skin as he tied the garment around his waist with a rope belt. The change of wardrobe was an intermediate ritual, done in preparation for Seeking. Mikel has performed this ritual many times before, and adopted an inculcated seriousness. Likewise, Mikel adopted a grave bearing as he entered the central room of the Sanctuary itself. He passed a number of private rooms, similar to changing rooms, but fitted with beds and showers for way-faring Seekers.

The Wiseman was waiting for Mikel in the center space. He sat on one side of a circular bench hewn from beech and hickory. Before Mikel reached the bench, a great sound reverberated throughout the room. It was the top of the hour, and a clutch of Wisemen announced the passing hour with a deep, plangent hum. Mikel took his seat and, as was custom, allowed the Wiseman to speak first.

"Master Stedler, ... it is an honor to receive someone of your status in our humble halls. How may I assist you?"

"Wise Father, I've come come with questions."

"About your Seeking?" the Wiseman asked.

"No," Mikel said, "about the Markings themselves."

The Wiseman appeared by unfazed by the topic in question, as it was part of their holy task to explain the Great Mystery in its various dimensions. Typically, questions about the nature and origin of the markings came from the lower classes, since the elite had little reason to dissect the mechanism for their unwarranted privilege. If the Wiseman found Mikel's request unusual, his face did not betray his opinion.

"I am happy to help you however I can," he said.

Mikel returned a simpering grin. "Wise Father," Mikel began, "I'm interested in learning about the those who are passed over."

"The Unmarked? Oh, yes. ... Indeed, a mysterious condition within the Great Mystery itself. Alas, knowledge of such things are beyond the means of our understanding."

"But, you must have some idea," Mikel pressed, "... some explanation about why the Unmarked are passed over?"

"No one knows why such individuals are ignored by the Great Mystery, and unfortunately," the Wiseman said, holding his hands up, "the answers to such questions are unknowable."

"Forgive me, Wise Father, but I must consult your wisdom, for such questions have been haunting my conscious lately."

The Wiseman nodded his head kindly. "It is fine, my son. Most people who enquire of such things rarely have the patience or interest to delve into the workings of the Great Mystery." The Wiseman drew himself upright, breathing deeply. "The basis for our understanding of the Great a mystery stems from our knowledge of the darkness from which it saved us. Before Markings showed us the paths to more profound love, there are tales of innumerable hordes of the Lost ... people cursed with isolation, neglect, and unhappiness. There were widespread wars, racism, and hatred. Then, the blessed Markings came ... they revealed themselves and washed away the pettiness of nationalism, tribalism, and monetary greed. Borders were melted, and gave way to the possibility of universal affection. My son, to be understood - truly understood, and accepted - this is what humans are made to achieve. It is our highest condition.

"When it became apparent that some members of our society were left Unmarked, and that future generations would also have people without the means to perfect love, a reason was divined. The Wise agreed that the emergence of the Markings are a deliberate manifestation in our world. That cannot be denied, and neither can its proclivity and accuracy. For, if Marking were a random event that lead to nothing, their influence would have faded into the annals of history.

"But, the manifestations are proven, and owing to their ability to touch each and every person blessed with a Mark, we believe in the inter-connectivity of those Marked. The Manifestation can see into our hearts, it knows who we are and what we need to be complete. There is a living kinship that binds those who are Marked, and that explains the profound generosity given to those who are Seeking. By assisting the Manifestation, it is our way of paying tribute.

"So then, given what I've shared, the Unmarked are considered (by comparison) as a remnant of the ignorance, aimless emotions, war, struggle before the Manifestation. But, more importantly, they are made known to be outside the Manifestation, by the Manifestation. They are also spiritually disconnected, and are justly considered foreign and flawed apostates. If we trust the force of perfect happiness, the Unmarked are considered unworthy for reasons not revealed. We, as a society, must have faith. For myself, when I peer into the heart of an Unmarked, I always find some tragic misgiving or defect."

Mikel listened intently, absorbing every word and imprinting the Wiseman's lore into his memory. These tenets consisted of so many assumption, so many fallacies in logic that Mikel's head begun to spin. The catechisms just spouted by the Wiseman sounded as if concocted in a room by like-minded esoterics, cloistered and segregated from reality.

"Father, you are indeed Wise, but your words still confuse me." Anger roiled in Mikel's soul. He thought of Kassi, her suffering, and limited future. "The root of my inquiry regards the dismissal of the Unmarked's dignity and right to exist. In place of whatever government ruled prior to the Manifestation, we now live under a pseudo-theocracy - one that holds a callous opinion about productive, law-abiding citizens-"

The Wiseman fought to break into Mikel's question, which became progressively pointed and accusatory in heat and content. His reply strained to keep a patient, even tone. "My son ... politics are not welcome within these Sanctuary walls. You know that. Men are imperfect creatures blessed with perfect love. The way men govern this realm will always be less than-"

It was Mikel's turn to interrupt, and his tone was far from patient. "Please, spare me the rhetoric, Father! You insist that the Unmarked are different, ... fine. But, the degree of their difference in minute. An Unmarked person can be murdered because of prejudice generated by our religion. Please don't insult my intelligence by suggesting the Sanctuary is somehow free from politics. RELIGION IS POLITICS! It molds public perception, opinion, and guides standards of moral decency. So, I ask you … why is compassion forbidden in Sanctuary dogma?"

The Wiseman was standing then, pushing his hands downward. "Please, my son. Control yourself!" he urged.

Mikel sighed fiercely, his breath was red hot and poised with venom. He ran his fingers through his thick hair and looked at the ground. Mikel's head lifted and looked at the Wiseman with an exhausted, level stare. "Everything just seems wrong, Wise Father." Mikel's voice reduced, and dragged on like bags of gravel across the floor. "I haven't felt any urge to Seek, and I'm not certain I want to."

Rather than being defensive, the Wiseman regarded Mikel with a solemn, paternal gaze. "May I study your Mark, my son?" he asked.

The gray smocks are pilgrim's smocks, and are designed for the wearer's comfort, while also allowing the arms to be easily revealed. Such ease is a convenience when inquiring with random strangers, such that the Seeker does not need to completely undress. Mikel wove his arm between the interior folds, and began shifting his arm through the gray smock to expose the length of his muscular arm.

"Wise Father, what if they're actually tests."

"The Seeking, you mean?" the Wiseman asked.

"No, the Marks themselves. What if we were granted someone to test the purity of our souls, to make us aware of perfect love – not to hold greedily – but to extend it out onto everyone in society?"

The Wiseman emitted a short hum, and Mikel was unsure if he was commenting on his remark or Marking. "It's magnificent," he said quietly. "You sound like Hans Arden, you know." The Wiseman was peering over his glasses at Mikel's intricate, diamond pattern.

"Is that such a bad thing?" Mikel asked.

"There are many who would disagree with you, Mikel."

"And what do you think?"

The Wiseman sat back and sighed heavily. "Mikel, your Marking shows you are a man of profound power. It's beyond noble … you have a Marking worthy of a king. Kings lead by example and tread their own paths." Mikel had heard such descriptions before, and felt as uncomfortable now as he did then. Mikel couldn't tell if the Wiseman could actually commune with the divine, or if he was being shrewdly patronizing based on Mikel's line of questioning. "My son, my sense is that you are shunting your own Calling. It wants to come to you, but you are not open to its presence in your heart. Think of your Other … she is waiting for you right this moment."

Mikel froze where he sat, and gripped the ledge in terror. The notion of Mikel having another part of himself in the world, a perfect half waiting was bizarre. He knew of the concept, intellectually, but only just then, before the Wiseman, did Mikel feel her presence through himself. He closed his eyes and concentrated.

Then, … nothing.

He did not feel an urge to roam or wander. The only void in his life was Kassi, and he desired her more than ever. And it was in that moment that Mikel had a vision of the future, of what he must do for Kassi without breaking his word - without doing anything stupid.

"Thank you, Daer Wise Father for your time. You've been most helpful." Mikel stripped off the smock and handed it to the older man and nearly forgot his own shirt while jogging out.
 
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Kassi ran without looking back, making sure to take a winding path so that she would lose them and not give them any clue as to where she was really going. Twice she sprinted through cluttered alleyways, and once she darted across a busy street. Angry drivers honked at her but she wasn't hit, so she just kept going. She even ran through Nexus Park, though she didn't pause to look around to see if there really was blood on the ground anywhere. It seemed like she ran for an hour, but it was really only about twenty minutes or so before she had looped back around to her apartment building. She looked around carefully, then stepped inside once she was absolutely certain they had not managed to keep up and follow her to her home.

"I've got to get out of here.." she mumbled to herself as she rode up the elevator to her floor. She went into her apartment and immediately began to pack. All she took was what would fit in a backpack, because she wouldn't be able to carry anything else. When she was done, she took her paintings out of the closet and carefully spread them all around the room like she had before, so that it looked like a crowded gallery. She went into the dark room and flicked the light on, spreading out the finished pictures and strips of film on the counter before leaving the room again. Nodding in satisfaction, she found a piece of paper and a pen.

Mikel -

Things are not safe in Milliane anymore. Watch the news and you'll see what I mean. I'm leaving. Aurendale is nice this time of year, I think..
All of my paintings are in my apartment. Take what you want and throw the rest away, they're worthless. If nothing else, I'm sure you can find somebody who can use the leftover paint supplies and blank canvases I have up there.

30 Groveton Street
Apartment 732

Remember, don't do anything stupid.
- Kassi

She folded the paper and wrote MIKEL on the front, then nodded to herself. That would do. She looked around the apartment, saying a silent goodbye in her mind. This had been a good home, but she couldn't stay. She sighed sadly and took one last walk around, eyeing her paintings and wondering when she would ever pick up a brush again. Perhaps never. She frowned and picked up her bag and the note, using a piece of tape to attach her key to the paper before heading out the door without another backwards glance.
 
Mikel had raced back to his coup and peeled out of the crushed stone parking like a demon. He raced headlong down wide city streets, turning into little known alleys and side roads when traffic threatened congestion. The gears of his black coup shifted smoothly under his hands and feet, for Mikel was racing to save more than himself and his love ... yes, he said it to himself ... he loved Kassi. And though he did not know why, he knew his deep, almost reverent, affection for the quirky young woman was the key to keeping a city from tearing itself apart. Wheels squeaked as he rammed the coup's transmission lower than it thought acceptable, then burst down a clear straight-away with the velocity of a mad arrow.

Mikel passed Nexus Park, and wondered how Kassi could have spent so much time there, and never have noticed her. Perspective criticism can be the worst, he told himself. Mikel's eyes were set on the glass facade in the distance. His Gallery, his home and what he hoped would be something to heal this sick city. The coup screeched to a halt as Mikel put the vehicle into park and applied the brake. He rose swiftly, and made his way to the Gallery entrance.
 
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As Kassi walked down the sidewalk, she heard the squeal of tires that meant somebody was about to get into an accident. She looked up, blinking in surprise when she saw it was Mikel getting out of the car. Oh no. She wasn't sure why he was driving that way, but he seemed very set on whatever he had to do. Now was not a good time to see him - she couldn't face him, not like this. She couldn't tell him that she was going.. not after the way he had looked at her before she ran. Turning, she ducked into an alleyway, biding her time until she heard the gallery door close. This felt all too familiar. She glanced to the side, easily finding the spot where she had fallen when she hid from him the first time. That seemed like ages ago, but it wasn't. She probably still had that bruise on her elbow.

A minute after the door closed, she left the alley. Now that she knew he was in there, she had to be careful. But.. maybe not. She saw the mailman walking down the sidewalk and realized her opportunity. He already had a stack of mail in his hand for the gallery and was distracted by a woman who was asking for directions. Taking a deep breath, Kassi relied on her social invisibility as she walked right by them, lightly tucking her note and key into the stack of mail without either of them even glancing at her. It was almost worth laughing about, if it did not pain her so much to be so unworthy of even a smile or simple conversation.

Satisfied that her message would get to him, she headed downtown. Her savings would get her a bus ticket and little more, but at least she could get out of this place before she got herself killed for existing.
 
Mikel was bouncing off the walls in an attempt to locate the contacts he'd casually dismissed over the years. Gün hadn't gotten so much as a hello, and was curious when he was getting his promised lunch. So, naturally, the feline was mouthing to Mikel and purposefully crossing his path in an attempt to get his scattered attention. Mikel plopped down at his table, and spread the bounty of his collecting harvest on the horizontal surface. Yes, he thought, it might just work. Now, all he needed was Kassi.

Suddenly, Mikel felt a sharp pain near his leg.

"OW! GÜN! You little rodent, why don't you munch on ..." Mikel paused, and remembered he'd left the blood sausage in his coup. He had to retrieve the left-over, or it would surely spoil, and then who knows what the feisty Bear Cat would do in retribution. "Sorry, little friend ... wait here, and I'll get your lunch." Mikel sped down the stairs and met the mailman on the way out to his coup.

"Afternoon, Mr. Stedler." The mailman's name was Karl ... he thought.

"Good afternoon to you, Sir!" Mikel hoped his wish didn't come across as too impersonal. He really did value the service the mailman performed.

Karl smiled kindly. He knew Mikel wasn't certain of his name, but he was kind anyway. He certainly didn't have to be - Karl was required to deliver the mail, regardless of how Mikel treated him. It was more important to have someone consider you with kindness, rather than get wrapped up in the burden of specifics. He handed Mikel his bundle, along with Kassi's note hidden within.

"Thanks," Mikel said, hurried. "See you tomorrow!" Mikel raced across the open road, and lunged inside the coup to retrieve the paper container. Cars approached from both sides, and Mikel dashed back to the Gallery entrance and raced upstairs. He placed the bag on the table, and Gün didn't wait for Mikel to open it - the Bear Cat tore the parcel open with his claws and began to devour the remaining blood sausage.

Satisfied he'd discharged his duties as friend and over-sized pet owner, Mikel began rummaging though the mail. Election flier, gallery opening announcement, ... then, Mikel's eyes caught sight of something dreadful - a letter with his name written on the front. He knew the handwriting, he recognized it from the painting still hanging proudly downstairs. It was Kassi's handwriting. Mikel tore open the letter with reckless abandon, and each time the paper shredded a pit began to form deeper and deeper in his stomach.

He opened the letter and read it. Twice.

Mikel's face winced in utter anguish with a pain like a sword through his gut. Every muscle in his body clenched in revolt to the reality in front of his eyes on that letter. Mikel's breathing was labored now. Think, think, think ... there are only so many ways to travel to Aurendale. The fastest way was by train, but Mikel deduced that Kassi would not be able to afford the expensive car tickets. The most affordable option was the bus, which was six miles away through heavy traffic. He had to try, even if only to say good-bye to the sweet woman one last time. He had to try.

Mikel stuffed the letter in his pocket, and grabbed his coat. "Gün, watch the shop ... I'll be back soon."
 
Kassi was not a fan of being downtown when she wasn't looking for inspiration. Sure, the colors and lights were nice, but it was also rather crowded. At this hour, it was severely busy and she was nudged to and fro as she walked down the sidewalk. There was barely space to breathe. She kept her head down, one hand on her bag to keep it close. Dropping it now was the same as losing it, as she'd never be able to work her way back to get it. She simply followed the tide of the other people, allowing the rush to sweep her down several streets until she broke free in front of the bus depot. It was a large building, only two doors down from the train station. This was a far more reasonable way to travel.. at least financially. It would be uncomfortable, but she was used to it.

"One for Aurendale, please. When is the next bus leaving?" she asked the chubby man sitting behind the desk inside. He looked bored, but consulted his schedule before glancing at the clock on the wall.

"Doesn't leave for an hour and a half," he finally said, printing the ticket.

"Really? .. Alright," Kassi accepted, pulling out her wallet and paying for the ticket. It was a longer wait than expected, but that was alright. She took the ticket and walked off to go find a seat. Might as well get comfortable since she had a long while to wait and didn't feel like eating or picking up a magazine.

A few minutes later she was all settled in. She had her back to the door so that she could watch the large windows at the back of the building that showed the busses arriving and departing. Her bag was sitting to her right, her hand resting on it. She curled her legs up in front of her, resting her chin on her knees as she daydreamed about whether or not Mikel would like her paintings or not. She hoped he did..
 
Mikel's drive through the city was more restrained than previously. He had a hard target to catch, and he did not want to jeopardize it because of something as careless as speeding. Still, Mikel drove with cunning efficiency, shaving seconds off yellow lights and minutes off more open roads. Whereas his drive from the Sanctuary was filled with manic urgency, this drive was defined by a determined confidence. He did fear he'd lost Kassi forever, but there was the semblance of a reckoning in his heart. Kassi was a mysterious, young woman, whom Mikel did not pretend to fully understand. More than simply being Unmarked (which he conceded was an enormous burden for anyone to bear), Kassi had an open tenderness what longed to embrace everyone around her. At least, that is how Mikel felt about the young woman from his interactions and her paintings. In truth, a buzzing euphoria washed over Mikel, and prepared him willingly for whatever fate might await.

He rolled smoothly into the bus station parking area. The stench of discarded soda and urine blanketed the asphalt, and Mikel pushed past it to the terminal entrance. Mikel entered in a rush, scanning each room and line intently. People of all sections of city life filled the terminals, and Mikel stopped to think. Where would the Aurendale bus depart? He checked the blinking monitor, which pulsed every five seconds. Terminal 3! He pushed past milling groups waiting to pass the time until Terminal 3 was open before him. Mikel's heart sank when, after a cursory glance, Kassi was nowhere to be seen. Had he missed her? A sadness gripped his chest and his mind was already dreading the long, torturous drive back to the Gallery.

And then, he saw her hair. From the back, Mikel recognized the light brown hair. The way Kassi swished it playfully when he offered to buy her groceries was unforgettable. He slowly crept to the side of the seat aisle, careful not to cause his delicate quarry to bolt. There she sat, with her hand on her bag next to her, ready to depart. He exhaled, and calmly walked toward her and slowly sat next to her bag. His face was somber, and placating. He knew this might be the last time he saw the young woman. He knew that she must want to come to him, and he could not force. Nor should he.

"May I wait with you, Kassi?"
 
That voice. Even before he said her name, Kassi knew that Mikel was there. Stunned, she blinked and looked over at him, sitting there next to her like it was the most normal thing in the world. She was an Unmarked who was fleeing a city that wanted her dead more than anything, and she knew that everywhere else would soon be the same. The world would outlaw them before too long. It was simply the way things were evolving. Yet, here he sat, as though they were equals. He even asked permission to wait with her. A Marked man who would no doubt feel his Calling any day now, or perhaps he had already. Kassi had never asked. Maybe he already had somebody.. but, she could feel deep down that he did not. She was frozen for a long moment, trying to understand why he would even come here.

"Okay.." she finally said, confused. She looked away, trying to gather her thoughts. For some reason, she had a strong urge to just turn and hug him, but that would be incredibly inappropriate and she refused to overstep her bounds. He was here for whatever reason, and she did not want him to go now that he was. She kept her thoughts to herself, though she was curious as to why he had come. He obviously wasn't boarding a bus - he had no bag and no ticket, and seemed content to just sit with her as though she was the reason that he came. Well that seemed like a waste of time. Didn't he have a gallery to run and more important people to see, like Marjorie?

"I thought you said you wouldn't do anything stupid."
 
"That's right." Mikel was as gentle as he had even been. "And, I've been true to my word." He gazed at Kassi with those damned cobalt eyes, eyes that seemed supernatural in being - eyes that seemed to kindle with life all their own. He knew what he said in those next minutes would determine everything, and he wanted to make certain he had no regrets.

"Kassi, you are free to roam wherever you want. I will not stop you." Mikel discreetly screened their surroundings for anyone in earshot. He whispered nonetheless. "I can only imagine what you must be feeling now, and have been feeling all your life. I don't pity you ... I am in awe of your perseverance. And, I must tell you ... that I adore you. That may be a strange sentiment for you to hear, especially from someone like me. But, it's the truth.

"None of these things change what is happening around us. I know you are frightened, as any sane person would be. I want to ask you to trust me." Those damned eyes. "Please. I have an idea that may or may not turn back the tide of hate you're fleeing. It involves your art, which apparently you've deeded to me. But, in the end, the art is nowhere near as important as the heart, mind, and soul that created it. You give life, and that cannot be destroyed, it must be allowed to grow within others, as well.

"Kassi, don't flee to Aurendale. The oyster are atrocious and the streets smell of iron." Mikel paused to gauge the impact of his slight humor, then continued on. "Let me try and protect you. I promise I'll invest every inch of myself into your safety and happiness. I can take you northward, to my home in the mountains should you fear life here too much. There, my kin value blood over politics. And, after all I've offered, you still decide that fleeing is best, then I won't stop you. In fact, I'll buy you a train ticket so you can travel alone and in comfort."

Great round headlights could be seen approaching from down the street.

"Please, Kassi ... don't leave. I need you." Mikel tenderly lifted his hand and placed it on top of Kassi's. Not pressing down, but just enough to graze her soft skin. Kassi could slide her hand out and walk outside at any moment. Mikel stared at her hand, waiting.
 
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Kassi looked back over at Mikel, her pale blue eyes bright as she watched him closely. She was not sure what she was expecting, but she didn't think he was going to empathize with her. It was like he understood, even if he did not truly know the extent of it. She blinked, staring at him in disbelief. Adored her? She honestly didn't even know what that meant. Sure, she had read it before in books and such things, but that was it. It was some form of love, wasn't it? That was ridiculous. Even her family had never told her that. In fact.. As she thought about it, she realized that nobody had ever told her they loved her. It was part of being Unmarked. Unloveable. She frowned a bit, trying to understand how Mikel could claim such a thing, if that was what he meant. He was Marked. That meant he had a little miss perfect waiting for him somewhere, and it definitely was not her.

She nodded slightly when he mentioned her fear - he was right. Frightened was too light a word. Terrified, perhaps, but she felt better with him here. She gave him a faint smile when he mentioned the smell of Aurendale. Well, that sounded unpleasant. She wasn't given much time to consider it before he went on, though. He swore to keep her safe. That was.. insane. Why would he risk that? If anybody found out.. He was a dead man walking. She glanced to the side, seeing the bus pull into the station. It was a bit early. A bored voice droned over the speakers, announcing that they would soon be ready to board for Aurendale.

I need you.

Kassi looked back at Mikel, feeling as though he had just slapped her silly. Him? Needing her? Wasn't it the other way around? He was somebody who accepted her and wanted her to stay. That was rare enough, but then there was the confusing bit of adoration that she still didn't grasp, but she wanted to. In fact, she was swiftly realizing that she wanted to do a lot of things, and none of them involved leaving. She was silent for a long minute, then she finally caved in to her earlier desires.

Shifting her weight, she suddenly moved her bag and slid over, curling both of her slender arms around him and burying her face against his chest. It was a very odd feeling, as she usually avoided contact, but she didn't let go.

"I'll stay."
 
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Mikel closed his bear-like arms around the fragile, young woman. He vibrated from the intensity of Kassi's acceptance, and tried breathing deeply to steady himself, lest he disturbed her. Mikel looked down, and thought her the most beautiful creature he's ever laid eyes on. His love for Kassi flowed through him like an open fountain, and his elation grew beyond bounds he never knew existed. As Mikel pressed her close to him, his eyes slit open, with a passive wariness around them. He vowed to tear the building apart brick-by-brick should anyone come near Kassi.

Mikel hung on as long as Kassi desired, then pulled back softly. She was so close to him. He wanted to kiss her, but knew they were both in danger while in public. Even while sitting, Mikel towered over Kassi. He smiled and tenderly held the side of her face with his great hand.

"Let me carry your things. I'll drive you back."

Kassi's lips screamed absolute magnetism to Mikel, but he was very content to have convinced his friend to stay.
 
Kassi relaxed a bit the longer she held Mikel. It was still strange, but she decided that it was a good sort of strange. Perhaps it was something she could get used to in time. She could see why people were fond of it. Feeling how warm he was, hearing his heart beat. It was nice, but it also reminded her of how little she had slept lately, because she found herself thinking that it would be a lovely place for a nap. That was what motivated her to finally let him go and pull back. She looked up at him, not as uncomfortable with his touch to her cheek as she might have been if she hadn't hugged him moments before. It was a nice gesture, she decided. His hands were warm and massive compared to her own.

"Okay. Thank you," she murmured, giving him a soft smile before moving and standing up. It was like going from a warm shower to a cold room - not that she was cold now, more of shocked. She had nearly forgotten where they were. It came back all too quickly as she glanced around at the crowds of people. She frowned slightly, suddenly uncomfortable. What if somebody recognized Mikel? This was dangerous. She probably should not have done what she did, but she had a hard time truly regretting it when it had felt so nice. Still.. the idea of potentially putting him in harm's way was agonizing to her.

She looked down at the ticket that was still in her hand, then glanced toward the windows. The bus was leaving. Oh well. She folded the paper and tucked it into her pocket. A memento for another day.
 
Mikel hoisted Kassi's bag in one hand, and offered to lift her with the other. The gesture was polite and sweet, not unlike when they first met at Tam's Grocery. Mikel led her past the ticketing booth, which had ballooned in passengers waiting for the next cycle of busses. They reached Mikel's coup, and he laid Kassi's luggage in the back. He closed the hatch, then opened the passenger side door for Kassi to enter. Mikel quickly and quietly closed her door then entered the driver's seat.

He sat for a moment, and laid his hand once again over hers. "Kassi, I know this is new for you. I know there must be a thousand different emotions inside you, fighting to be heard. If I'm going to help you, I need you to talk to me, communicate with me as you're best able. Please let me know if I can do anything to alleviate your worry or pain. I promise I will do so, if it's within my power. Please consider things you might need to help you in your daily life ... clothing to hide your arms, new living quarters ... you can live at my house, and I'll move in with Gün, though I'd rather not have you out of my protection."

Mikel released Kassi's hand and turned the car's ignition.
 
Kassi took his hand with a bit of a smile, recalling how they had first truly met. Oh, she had been so clumsy that day, too absorbed in her drawing. She stood now with his help, following him out of the station. There were more people in front of the doors than there had been, but she had no trouble slipping between them. It seemed that even when she was following Mikel, she was invisible. Perhaps that helped, though - people were more apt to stare at the larger man. She smiled a bit at the thought, going outside with him. It was easy to recognize his car. She murmured a quiet thanks to him for opening her door, sliding in to the seat carefully. Riding in a car was going to be odd. She had done it before, but not in a long time. It was much cozier than a bus.

She looked up as Mikel got in, not minding the feel of his hand on hers. As he spoke, she nodded a little, waiting a minute after he fell silent to respond because she needed that time to try and arrange her thoughts.

"It's.. very strange to me, to be speaking about this to somebody," she admitted slowly. "It might take me a long time to get used to it.. But, I already have the clothing covered. Nothing I own has short sleeves. I am very careful at all times," she added, pondering. Getting out all of her emotions was going to be extremely difficult. She sighed, looking down at her hands as she thought about what she normally would have done.

"I don't paint anymore, Mikel."
 
"What?" Mikel returned a face that was crestfallen. He purposefully changed his expression, not wanting to give the crass notion that Kassi's value to Mikel had anything to do with economics. Mikel had the vast number of paintings he needed for his plan, but he always assumed painters plied their art to interject their values into society and create a tenuous balance within themselves.

The car was running in idle. Mikel's foot was depressing the clutch, and he stretched to lean over and take both of Kassi's hands in his. "You may do whatever you wish. If painting brings you happiness, then do it. If not, then stop. If you are not painting because you cannot feel, that is a different matter entirely. We'll need to make you whole again."
 
"I tried. I just.. can't anymore. It's gone," she said softly, her fingers curling around his hands to hold them there, but only for a moment. She soon let him go, unable to look up at him. Even though she did not see his expression when she first said it, she felt as though she was letting him down somehow. It was all she truly had to offer to him. Sure, he could have the paintings she already had done, but she knew she could not create more. Her spark was doused, and she didn't know what she was supposed to do to support herself. Her family - or should she call them ex-family? - had cut her off financially and she did not have much left. Perhaps she could get a job.. but what job was safe?

"I'm sorry."
 
Mikel raised a finger and lovingly dragged it down Kassi's cheek. "Please don't worry, Daer. You have FAR too much on your mind, and I'll make sure you are provided for. Just focus on the next day and smiling again. I'd like to see more of that, when you're ready."

Mikel's hands lingered near Kassi's. He wanted them available to her - to play with, to hold, or push away. Mikel wanted Kassi to become accustomed to his touch, to want it and use it for comfort. She's had such little of that in her life. Mikel brimmed with anger at the likely depth of Kassi's scarring. Mikel vowed to make as much of himself available to Kassi as she wants. He knew the process would be slow, but the euphoria making his skin float upward was worth the wait.
 
Kassi looked up at the touch, surprised yet again when Mikel offered simple reassurances to her. She always expected something else. Anger, perhaps. Disappointment. Frustration. Yet he never displayed any of that with her. It left her feeling unbalanced. Why was he so different from everybody else? She much preferred being treated this way, even if it was foreign.

"Nobody else I ever met has been as nice to me as you are," she murmured. "You're the only one who knows that I'm.. messed up.. who hasn't pushed me out of their life. Thank you. It means.. so very much to me."
 
Emotions were rising very quickly for Mikel. He tried to banish the lust he had for her lips, but felt enslaved to the loving and grateful look in her eyes. Kassi had opened up her heart, for but a glimpse, and Mikel was astonished by the depth of her feeling. He exhaled calmly, squeezing her hands. "Oh Kass," Mikel said, softly, "you deserve this, and so much more. I'm so happy I am the one to open your heart. I want you to learn to live, and rekindle your loving spirit."

Mikel couldn't resist any longer. He popped the clutch and brought his head closer, staring deeply into her eyes. He could not bring himself to say the words earlier that day, but his northern restraint pales in comparison to the adoration he feels for the tender woman holding his hand.

"Kassi, I love you."
 
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