Toys in Heaven Spots (Anja)

[Artisn]

Night fell on New York. The moon shined in the sky, and the buildings embraced the light. The day went on with all the rituals of the past. The hustle and bustle of ever day people, eyes rarely swaying from their path in the mass confusion. Streets claimed too many feet to record, and the subway station was a haven for calamity. Chaos was the cousin of New York, and few citizens didn't know this first hand. New York's boroughs retain the same dramatic template.

Drama engross the city in a way few capitols could manage. The mangled mess remain in the waste of old abandoned buildings, stations and specific areas. People grew fond of the rare smell, polluting the skyline in the flirtation of many diverse stenches. The aroma was like the city, unique and slightly grotesque. All of it came together in an absolute divinity that chained all the profusion together. A circuit plugged every object together to maintain the artistic routine, and few grasped the engineering as well as city artist.

"City Artist" was an awkward way of placing graffiti on a plateau. In truth, it was a portrait of the very grounds the building stood. Abstract contortion of words tagged walls, while visual catastrophe spawn illusive ideas of an imperfect world. Colors splash street signs, building walls and billboards in oblique forms to stack a top the foundation of the beautifully horrible city.

Artisn liked the night.

The silence was infrequent in the Institutes's halls. A hush squeak of his sneakers across the polished floor sent a dull chill down his back. All of it was surreal, yet touching, leaving his eyes in a sway to scan for life. The lull muse of life vibrated in his eardrums at the snore of nearby children. Every dorm housed a fresh face on this particular day. Unlike previous days at the Institute, there was a splurge of new students to claim a crowd.

Art was never good for playing types. Even when his words were many, and his silence few, everyone was cool with him. Times had definately changed, but not enough for him to lose sight of such fundamental things. One knock on the door had announced it all. He was once again prepared to claim that fabulous thing...

Friendship...

"Anja, you ready to go?" Art whisper, his backpack still being tightened. The soothing, hollow bang echo in his ears. Murial's were to be made, and the tools were jumping in his bag ready to be used.

All he needed now was a partner in crime.

[Anja Drake]

The day had passed at a decent speed; it was as decent as it could be with spending nearly half the day on an airplane from <st1:country-region w:st="on">Italy</st1:country-region> to <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1 ="">America</st1></st1:country-region>. The passing period had sped up increasingly ever sense she had stepped on school grounds. This Institute was a nucleus of new energy and life; there was a certain magnetic pull to it that drew Anja Drake’s attention.
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So far, the school was turning out to be a lot better that she had imagined. Everyone seemed to be accepting; in two of her later classes she had met a few fellow new students. The names to which she had accidentally forgotten, she was sure to see them again. The teachers at the school seemed to be focused but friendly all at the same time; something she admired every person for. As for making friends, one person suck in her mind; they had met just after she registered.
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Artisn . . . he seemed different than the others around the Institute. He seemed more independent than everyone else. Nobody bothered him and he really didn’t bother anyone.
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She had met up with him after his class and now they were going out. Where to…Artisn didn’t say. It was quite fascinating that Anja trusted this boy enough to go around after hours; something she never really did before in her life.
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Tip toeing her way out of her room, Anja threw on her leather jacket over a clean sleeveless shirt. Having the type of senses she had really had its perks; for one moving in the night was the same as moving in the day for her. It was all the same light, if you could even call it that; in her world darkness and light didn’t exist.
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She managed to shut her dorm door without so much as even a ‘click’. Turning, she welcomed Artisn with a lazy smile.
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“I’m ready when you are.”

[Artisn]

"Aiite then."

Artisn's eyes grazed the calm hallways. The place was dimly lit, allowing the moon shine to break smoothly from outside. An inquisitive eye sought adventure, and for a moment the night captivated him. Art hadn't been out for a while. Even during intermissions time went past too fast for him to take in the vast city. All of it was too much to swallow, and any tourist could vouge. Faint resemblances of Atlanta caught a glimpse during walks, or bump-ins.

Yet, the nature was all too different. Never before had man's crude hospitality been displayed so effortlessly, and the grim grit the metropolis at every corner. Even the polished establishment denounce an eloquence. Instead it was all tainted by an uppity activity renown on New York grounds. The playground was too big for any new kid to stomp around, but Artisn wanted to change that.

One step sent his ears back into the melodic squeak. The freshly clean SB Dunks muse in the shades of night, yet as soon as the hardened canvas braced them the only senses would be the smell. The new out of the box aroma was remarkable, and no other brand could claim as much.

He was prepared for darkness. A zipped-up hoody, fine jeans and backpack were all that was necessary to maintain in Manhattan streets. People wouldn't pardon the two mutants, but that wasn't a concern. Even in daylight, the smiles weren't cast in anyone's way, much less a mutants. It was good the duo didn't exactly stand out, because his mission was covert.

Even as the two reached the Institutes's gate the tools continued to bang subtly in his bag. Wasted time had made them restless, gasping for air. Art was ready to claim another sign, wall, billboard, train, car...or something. All the abstract visuals splurge through his mind as the gate opened, and the two vessels spread into the world.

Nobody would know what hit them.

Artisn was prepared, with a mind full of design, and a notepad overrun with templates snug beside his arsenal.

"So, you kno' wheer we'a goin' , right?"

The city artist took a quick glanced over his shoulder. Anja hadn't dropped a word since she came out. It was too silent, and Artisn didn't like it. Although it was for the art, he wanted to go out with Anja....alone.

She was too interesting to pass up.

[Anja Drake]

The air was cool, but not cold; perfect weather for an autumn night. As she walked, Anja could hear the crisp leaves clattering loudly down the road and rustling swiftly across the grass. Autumn was a wonderful season; she had very little memory about American seasons but for an odd reason Anja could remember the fall.
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She pushed her hair out of her face before shoving her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket. There was a slight breeze, nothing too extreme; it was nice. Her senses were more focused on her surroundings; soft chattering of night birds was a nice touch to the beautiful autumn night.
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Artisn spoke very briefly of what they were going to do. Not much detail, all she knew was that they were outside; and she had sensed the gateway to the Institute pass by them a while ago. She had accepted to go with Artisn; Anja wanted to know this unique boy; he was the closest thing she

She noticed besides the noise of the environment and the soft sounds of their feet on the ground. Anja noticed the gently clattered of what she thought to be steel cans, she couldn’t really say what Artisn was up too.
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“I know that we are going somewhere . . . outside.” Anja added slight humor to her statement; hoping to liven the mood set between the two. She started to chuckle softly as she admitted the truth. “Honestly, I do not know where we are going.”
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[Artisn]

"Good."

A smirk wrinkled his lips as his eyes swung off down the road. Life's exuberant perks always were welcome. The small stuff was what mattered, and it felt good to be on an adventure. Seldom did explorers canvas maps to new worlds, and Artisn hoped to do the same with Anja. Enjoyment was the only goal of the night, and as long as a little chuckle lightened the mood there was nothing swaying the two from their path.

The gate had closed behind them, and the long street road into a nearby subway. In the depths of the city's profusion carried a dire nature, however so truthful. The raw denaturing of humanity merged effortlessly with the absolute essence with life. All of it too real, and the pinnacle of character splash across the world at every New York location. Crowds bundled together in walks to so many different directions threw Artisn mind in a spin that he loved.

Nothing was better than the city.

The jazz in the breeze. Even the melody in the surface's beat hit his drums like a band-line. The tone attuned to discord, pulling at the cords of a hidden guitar. Everything withstood the brushes of peril, upholding, yet still blowing the blues. There was no abscence at any alleyway, and life was carried in all it's elements, emotions and artistic forms. Inner city to suburbs, the metropolis was a sanctuary raw, uncut existence. The contrast opened a niche for him, as an observer, to develop a paradigm all his own to stretch open the playing field.

All the roles played on the stage of life were deserving of an audience, and even a simple walk through the city could open a visitors eyes to something anew. Many were actors, even those that hadn't gone backstage or had agents, and the front was so established that it could be tasted. People were too complex to completely understand, but it was too interesting to withdraw curiosity. Artisn loved the city for too many reasons, and he only hoped to show Anja a tidbit of his passion.

The mutant occupied his hands with a clutch on his backpack's arms, holding on for life as he waited for an entrance into the city's core. In the subway there would certainly be a vary of faces, yet as of the present he couldn't help to focus on one person.

Anja was so darn...well...pretty.

Artisn had grown humble, and it had become comfortable to shut up. It irked him to know that his own silence was the bulwark to advancing. He had even drove himself to slow down, and stay by her side, but his mouth just wouldn't move. Conversation was the only way to break the ice, and a tongue held back would never taste prosperity.

A sigh swept his nerves aside, and he rushed quickly back into his conscious. Thoughts formulated too quick for him to manage, and mangled in confusion he shot out an idea. The theory was that whatever was on his mind, he had to spill it out. Anyway it went, she was stuck...he had her trapped...she had trusted him this long--there was no way he could mess up that bad.

"Man, ya a cutie--

Lets run!"

Not another word could heed him in his compulsive nature. A hand thrown back, he grabbed up Anja's and dashed down the street. Artisn didn't feel comfortable anymore, so fight or flight seemed rational. Running without some company somehow...didn't make sense.

But much of what he was doing didn't make sense. At some point in the night he would kick himself for being so stupid, but thinking had lost it's points on his board.

[Anja Drake]

"Hold on a minut--"

Slight fear spiked in her veins as rubber soled tennis shoes pattered noisily on the night cities pavement. A minute earlier she had been clutching desperately to the connect brass poles of the underground subway; never had she experienced such a foreign transportation. In<st1:city w:st="on"><st1 =""> Genoa</st1></st1:city> there was no subway; there was however trains, trolleys, bicycles, and small automobiles. The city had already proven very different that she would have ever suspected.
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Anja wasn’t sure when they had started sprinting and she wasn’t too sure why, either. Her attention had been on trying to figure out how to balance with so many humans around. The small car had been packed to the maximum or close to it. Her senses were jumbled trying to identify all the different shapes and sizes in the car.
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Getting out of the subway car was not a native task either. It might have been just her but it seemed as if everyone in the exiting horde was in a hurry. Drake wasn’t used to being nearly catapulted out of any are, her first subway ride didn’t go as smooth as it could have been.
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The smell of the underground city was disturbing, reeking of trash and grime made her senses grimace; there was no such smell in <st1:country-region w:st="on">Italy</st1:country-region>, if there was an unpleasant odor it would have come from the <st1 =""><st1 ="">Ligurian</st1><st1 =""> Sea</st1></st1>. The scent of the underground seemed toxic, although the smell of the upper city didn’t differ all that much.
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She had barely regained her balance; when Artisn told her something she couldn’t quite make out through her disheveled mind. His last words were the only Anja could register before her hand was covered by Artisn’s and they were on their way.
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Running with her eyesight the way it was had its ups and more so its downs. Focusing quickly and noticing things farther from regular sight helped her to see where she was going. On the other hand focusing small details didn’t process through her mind at the speed it needed to be and with all blindness, Anja had trouble placing one foot in front of the other at a high pace.
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She was sure that she was holding Artisn slightly back. Him pulling her along wasn’t the greatest feeling in the world as it was. Especially since Anja didn’t even know where she was or where she was going. She was almost frantic trying to find a way to slow down.
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“Artisn, I can’t see well! What is going on?” Her words came out in a rush; she was hopeful that he did not pay much attention to her first words.

[Artisn]

"Huh?"

Art had forgot. He forced himself too. All of his behavior had suddenly grown erratic, and without reason. A jumbled crowd dumped into the subway as they exited. The objective hadn't been clarified for a plenty of reasons. Artisn didn't know the city. Despite his various expeditions back home in Atlanta, there was no true similarity in structure. Everything was so diverse that he went in without calculated steps, and even a sporadic dash wouldn't alter the goal.

An eye casted back, and all he could capture was his hand. He clung tight as a bombardment of flesh cascaded his view. Despite all the rush, the two hadn't managed to get out of the train.

One slight jerk did the ticket. A glimpse of her popped from the crowd, and his body followed suite. Wrestling with the overwhelming crowd, he ducked and pulled up beside her. A few buildings were letting out their employees, and impatience turn them all into animals, crash into any transport. Taxi were being fought over, while cars bash into one another in hopes of escaping the parking lot. New York even at night wasn't proper, or too understanding. People didn't care about each other, especially when there was no logic to care.

Pounds of clutter faces trickled throughout the train as it reared back to life. Flicker light shutter as the train picked up speed down through another station. He had caught her fearful query, but his mind had been rattled by the affairs. A moment was necessary, and he took it without heed. A dull silence nestled inside as the rustle ended, and he took in a breath. All of it was a bit devastating to his adrenaline, and a sudden pump to the legs wasn't enough to settle him down.

The crowd had drove the two close together, and despite the lost chance at exiting the grouping, he couldn't be happier. At least...he couldn't think of a better moment.

"We are getting' off on the next exit. I think thats Time Square," he whispered, his body practically pressing against Anja's because of some fat man's knees behind him.

[Anja Drake]

Anja suddenly felt very crowded; everything seemed shoved together in one solid movement. A shift in air space behind her made Anja uncomfortable. The pattern of her breathing was constricted, maybe even slightly cut off; but no to the point of suffocation. The size of the newly acquired people from the previous stop was slightly larger than the people who stepped off the train. The bumping bodies caused her to shift away from the middle of the aisle and closer to her companion in this new expedition.
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It was actually surprising how close Artisn and Anja were; she hadn’t realized how little space separated the two until he whispered in her ear. A second barely passed by and Anja was already frozen in place; with her back against the bar for those standing to hold on to. The fact was that she really didn’t mind his closeness; she was more so glad that she knew him and that she wasn’t literally body to body with a total stranger.
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“Sounds good.” Was her only response and even in its shortness her voice was tinted with strain and softness.
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She could hear the people just behind her talking quietly in their own foreign language; it sounded like Japanese. Their chatter was overthrown by a small child whining to his mother about how his feet were hurting and near the two of them was a group of boys, probably in college, blabbering loudly about the latest football game. Over all this, Anja could only focus on the boy in front of her; he was intriguing and contained a certain quality that, even in their first day of meeting, she found captivating.
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That quality, however, she hadn’t figured out yet.
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Her head downcast; Anja attempted not to look him in the face. At the distance they were, or lack there of, there was a slim chance that the eye of an artist would not notice the opaque haze inside her golden eyes. A weakness that kept her from the color and depth of life itself.
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A small bump of the subway car, pushed Anja the last step and before she knew it, she found herself clinging to Artisn for the support she had lost. Nearly face to face with the boy, minus the difference in height; Anja wasn’t sure what came over her. Her senses focused on him, he was definitely a nice change to the large city of which she had been preoccupied on. Almost slyly, Anja ghosted the tip of her nose over the neckline of Artisn’s shirt. Never had she been so blunt in her actions and especially to someone she just met; for some reason she felt she had to play with him a little.
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Very softly, she brought her cheek gently against his; her movements were a bit timid, never really showing everyone else on the train that this was more than slight slip.
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The moment had passed by sooner than Anja had thought; with a hint of a blush on her cheeks she pulled her face farther from his. Whispering shallowly as she went.
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“Sorry.”

[Artisn]

The nose in the was a car was a bit much. All the cluster left Artisn exasperated, and mind astray. Despite the focal point right ahead, he could barley keep his mind sharp. A reek wretched, and vile perched on his back from the obese man slumped behind him, leaving little room for air.

Then a mass of child came rocketing in from the next train, searching for some fun on their trail back home. All of it was worth an observant eye, but the barrage of pinches on his senses was far too much.

A bump changed that all.

Even as the light flickered with the alter, and his eyes strain to remain in his head, Artisn nudged himself to life. Beside the confinement, minutes had strolled by since the worldly invasion and he had managed some slight comfort. Plus the presence of Anja had warmed him, at least a long his chest. Yet a slip had changed it all.

A twinge ruffled his body, goose-bumps strolling along him in reaction to her soft touch. The bump had pushed her closer, pressed against his face so that there wasn't anything but feeling. Small brush ran his heart into a flush, beating with welcomed anxiety. Nerves ran high, and though his face remained stern to the onslaught, his eyes didn't.

He had noticed her movements. She remained in his vision, even when his surroundings intrigued him. The pull of her neck, raking her face from him only seconds earlier had gave him a twinge. Artisn wanted to see her. Even as her soft voice rummage through his veins, his mind diverted to person behind the voice.

A nudge from his finger lifted her face to see his own. He waited, allowing the moment to wake as he smiled.

"It's okay."

[Anja Drake]

Placing where his eyes were was easy enough for Anja; against the grayish shade of his being each physical feature was accented by a hue of transparent light. The faces of everyone, with the exception of animals or transformed mutants, resembled a human skull. The eyes were nothing like the one ‘normal’ people saw, they were merely hollow sockets in Anja’s view. Colorless, pasty sockets; things that didn’t hold or show any emotion for her.
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“. . . Sono cieco a voi . . .”
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Something in her vice caused her murmur to sound sorrowful; a hurt that was almost unnatural compared to the warmth of any earlier feeling in their conversations. Anja smiled sadly at the boy in front of her; the feeling of envy arrived unwillingly and unaccepted in her heart. The sensation she despised the most; a feeling that made her wish she had what others had.
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As much as she could’ Anja push her back against the pole behind her. Any space would do; concentration fought to control an overwhelming resentment of most those around her. Emotions never played a good role in her life; too little was her safe zone while too much triggered the monster underneath her skin. A monster that had killed and would continue to do so, unless Anja kept an iron leash on it.
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Angelo di morte
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That was its name; the name her mother gave it. As accepting as her mother had been to Anja; nothing could forgive the devastation and destruction that the monster had caused. The pain others experienced was nothing compared to the scars that Anja had received from the monster.
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With a shaking breath, Anja forced her feelings to subside; it wasn’t worth it to be seen as a monster in front of all these people, especially with a friend in progress right in front of her. She had been so focused on her pushing away her emotion that she barely heard the fuzzy subway speakers announce the next stop.
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“Ladies and gentlemen . . .we are approaching . . . the next sto- . . . please stand clear of the door . . .” Anja wasn’t surprised at the amount of people that seemed to ignore the automated voice. “Next stop . . .for those who wish to . . . visit Time Square . . . or down town.”
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Anja found herself focusing on the ceiling of the car; where she assumed the loudspeaker was, before bringing her sense back to Artisn. She cocked her head expectantly to the side with a shy smile.
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“If I recall correctly. This is our stop, is it not?”

[Artisn]

Light split from the open the door, parting through the obese and oblique stances of the various figures in the train. Assembly strung throughout the discorded train station as people were left off in bundles. Human cargo drifted in bounds from the train as the fluorescence shimmer from afar throughout the dim grounds. A dampness shrouded the jumble of activity as night continued it's path through the city above. The subway was a fester of confusion and even as Artisn lifted from his pole inside the train he couldn't help to smell the unique stench.

He liked it...

"Okay, let's go."

A smile perched on his lips as his eyes casted to the side, watching as people dispersed off into the cold concrete outside. Air returned to his whole body as the obese man took a quick exit, only to be followed by the pestering children. Kids never annoyed him, but the chatter had killed his brain cells. A faulty sigh pushed him along, throwing his hand back behind him as he guided her.

For a moment he forgot about that thing. Despite the clasp of his hand, and the informal grace he tug her a long with, the guidance seemed more out of clinging than acceptance. Anja's eyes had fallen into his background, and more of his heart strung him up than his mind. The memory became forgettable for a while, and he become convinced that his conviction was pointed in the right direction.

"Art..."

The whisper eased from his lips as the two rumbled up some footsteps into the city. The Time Square had yet not been revealed...atleast to his eyes. Far too many faces crowded at the exit as they continued upward, but the other senses concluded where they were at. The location had been sought and found. Atlanta was so far away, but home was so close.

The City!

[Anja Drake]

Golden brown eyes squeezed shut against the sudden bombardment that attacked every one of her senses. It was like foreign invaders trashing a tradition that had existed since the beginning of time; only in this situation, Anja was washed away by such a different setting.
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Dozens and dozens of people; both humans and mutants, although mostly humans, littered the streets. The loud honking of car horns and changes from bicycle bells flowed in and out of her ears. It was almost as if a gun had gone off and the screaming aftermath was continuous. Never ending calls and screeches almost made her cringe; new sounds were everywhere and Anja wasn’t sure if she enjoyed it . . . something about its newness captured her, though.
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But, that smell; she had figured it was at its worst underground but she was wrong. Above ground the scent seemed to rip her senses apart; a quick glance at her comrade told her that this place didn’t appear to hold him back. He seemed almost exhilarated to be here; this place was a definite acquired taste, Anja was sure of that.
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One factor that stood out from the rest was the warmth of this city. A cool gust would be the only disturbance among the towering skyscrapers and lonely office buildings. A smug, warm, thick air hovered around cluttered people and buildings. Her senses covered blocks of this city; much more than any normal sight. The crowdedness was making her head hurt a considerable amount more than when she had first entered the Institute earlier that day.
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The two of them left the subway swiftly, now of which looking back on Anja didn’t think was that bad. Weaving through loads of people was proving to be slightly more difficult than Anja had thought. She made sure that she stuck close to Artisn, the last thing she wanted to do was get lost in an unfamiliar city.
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Her mind wandered, looking for something to landmark her surroundings. Anything would do, right now she needed to find something to distract her from the millions of things shrouding her senses.

[Artisn]

New York.

An untamed, feral concrete jungle, overcome with a wilderness so obscene that people disregarded each other in a habitat all their own. Dominion over the discord, people became one with the vicious grounds and fought each other for taxi cabs. Ferocious eyes, tampered by lust, drag on as girls walked past in bunches with less clothes than comfortable. Autumn was upon the east coast, and New York felt it the most. The breeze that carried through was a whisper from fall, melding with the thoughts of spring in the future. All the various possibility overwhelmed the great, colossal buildings as artistic minds dived into the metropolis head first.

Mass Media stood upon billboards, reaching out to the world below in a bellow. Text trickled along in bright style, a clamor for attention to the numerous victims. People became addicts of so many different things in a world like this, but it was to be expected. The unmanageable population motion in a fierce splash of flesh through the streets, roaming in search of their homes. Habit pushed them along, their minds strung together under the ventriloquist twist of their yearning hearts. Time had eroded the teenage boys to elderly woman into a selfish sheet that blocked each other from sight.

Truly uncivilized...but Artisn liked it. In the depths of the top layer remained remnants of childhood. Times when smiles only came to faces, and tears were only for one another. The babbling queries for mother and father, and the comfort of a brother's voice that was apparent since birth. All people were so different, and the encoding of life had left a trace that not even the diversity of fingerprints could give respect to.

A tight hand called at his companion...friend. Anja had done much since the run out of the mansion, but the bustle had braced her quite unusually. New York was fast, and new for her, and he wouldn't let her get lost in the confusion.

"We a' gunna head to Union Square.

Just needda taxi--you want a hot dog?"

[Anja Drake]

Her mind was elsewhere.
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The more she studied her surroundings the more she found similarities between this city and her Italian home. Both cities were large and full of people. As those were the things in common, the types of people were far from similar. New Yorker’s were busy, in a rush, and some were occasionally rude. They never seemed satisfied; always moving, always hurrying to their next destination. Anja only noticed one person who had actually stopped to feel the hush breeze slip calmly through their hair. Beyond the constant jabbering of various people on cell phones, the squealing of anxious tires, and the blaring of pulsating music; <st1:state w:st="on"><st1 ="">New York</st1></st1:state> was a wondrous place. Full of life, joy, fear, and grief, Anja could feel it all; every pain to every happiness. From the beaten old hermit around the corner to the tired housewife in the 91^st apartment of the building across the way. She ‘saw’ them and she felt what they felt, and yet underneath it all Drake kept herself together.
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<st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1 ="">Italy</st1></st1:country-region> was so similar but still so different. In <st1:city w:st="on"><st1 =""></st1></st1:city><st1:city w:st="on"><st1 ="">Genoa</st1></st1:city>, the people were full of positive emotion; once a person set foot in the streets all home life would leave and in its place was left a person full of content. Very rarely did someone openly admit a personal problem; everyone treated everyone else with the same respect. No matter the age or gender; fairness was top priority. The people of <st1:country-region w:st="on">Italy </st1:country-region>were laid back and they accepted difficulties as a part of life. Not everything could be avoided, so as a result Anja’s people took every moment and cherished it.
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It seemed that not even the most admired places were as civilized as other’s would think.
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Anja was so caught up in her comparison that she nearly ignored Artisn’s question. As one of the only people she knew in this foreign place; Anja wanted to make sure he was someone she could trust and someone she could turn to.
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“No. No, thank you.” Her voice trailed off and her senses skimmed over him quickly before they were thrown back to the wild city. She watched as a man in a black jogging coat slipped a skillful hand into the side pocket of another man in an upscale suit who was chattering angrily into his cell phone. “I’m not very hungry at the moment.”
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The man in the black coat swiftly withdrew his artful hand and proceeded hastily across the crowded street toward Artisn and Anja; his profession was obvious to Anja. It made her stiffen in disapproval; surely that man could find a different way to receive money. She lightly tugged at Artisn’s hand as if to tell him to wait for a moment.
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The man passed by them in a hurry, but with a little extra force Anja shot out her hand to catch the man by his sleeve. She felt a spike of confusion and slight irritation come from the man, as he turned to face her. It was apparent that the man was on edge; his awkward stance told her that. With a growing smile, Anja held tight to his sleeve.
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“Excuse me, sir, but I do believe that man would like his possessions back.” She motioned to the businessman with a nod of her head. It really wasn’t a surprise when the man reflected something of fear; it showed that he did not expect to be caught. He attempted to break her hold, but in the process only made her grip tighten. He spoke with an unsure voice, his confidence was fading.
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“What are ya talkin’ about, lil’ Missy?” Anja wanted to shake her head; arrogance would get him no where but only get Anja annoyed. She felt her emotions pool in the pit of her stomach; it didn’t take much to upset her and her rapidly growing fingernails were proof of that.
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“That man over there; he will be wanting his wallet back.” Alarm was spreading in the man; there was no doubt that he could feel sharpened claw-like nails, that had broken through his coat moment’s earlier, graze his skin. Anja was changing; a familiar fire seeped into her eyes as they locked onto the man’s frightened face. Frantically, the man pulled away; his mind telling him to cry out at the hell fire eyed girl, but his voice betrayed him. The smell of his fear stopped any further transformation; Anja felt herself already returning. While still could she released the man.
<o =""></o>
“Return his belongings.” She stated firmly and the man turned; with much more haste than earlier the man hurried across the street. But not before whispering the words ‘devil child’ under his breath.
<o =""></o>
Anja’s eyes slowly cleared back to their normal golden-brown color as she watched the man flee away from her. With some luck, it had appeared that no noticed the ordeal. Although, she wasn’t too sure if Artisn had seen her . . . minor transformation. She only hoped that he was still trying to get a taxi.
<o =""></o>
Now, she regretted her actions; she cursed under her breath at her ignorance. Why didn't she think before acting?

[Artisn]

The sidewalk couldn't even compare to the streets. The bustle roared along in sounds, smells and every sense known (and not known) to man. A wretched stench poured through the air, scare accented by out-of-towners and fear laid in the backdrop.

Artisn felt absolutely comfortable.

A few bumps here and there, rude insults and flaming citizens couldn't distort his focus. The taxi was near, and his hand was out. Soon the two would be inside...something, no matter how horrible the smell would be, and he wouldn't have to worry about Anja being banged up.

Foreign faces could easily be picked out of a crowd, and she'd be an easy target for some thief or something. She didn't belong anywhere...beside next to him. Funny how he thought such a thing, but he didn't even realize the incident right next to him.

The taxi finally made it, he rather worry about how he was going to pay to get down the street.

"Ya' ready?" He asked, opening the door. A smile graced his face as his eyes finally caught Anja next to him. Not a moment had passed since the thief had ran off, but he didn't notice a change. Details were definately a focus of his, but she hid the situation well in her calmed body language. Not a flinch or twitch lifted question, so he reserved his query for later.

The plan had been set, they would get closer. He had to have someone closer....someone to cut a part of the Big Apple with. Artisn was just a tad bit too alone in a giant city like New York.

[Anja Drake]

Tucking her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket was the only thing blocking the finalization of her de-transformation. The fire was completely gone from her eyes and her nails were no longer clawlike. She smiled cheerily at Artisn; she was in the clear as of now. But next time she probably wouldn’t be so lucky.
<o></o>
“Yes, I’m ready.”
<o></o>
She passed in front of him and slid into the car; her now normal hand rested on the roof to avoid any ‘head-on’ collisions with the cab. She settled in her seat quickly as the door was shut behind her. As she waited for Artisn to join her, she let her senses wander all over the inside of the cab.
<o></o>
The back seat, where she sat, was missing bits and pieces of padding underneath torn up leather covers. There was a plastic window seperating the driver from its passengers and a small compartment to which Anja assumed was where the money was exchanged. The driver himself was no different from any other New Yorker. By his aura he was just an ordinary cab driver, nothing too special.
<o></o>
Everything in the taxi was grubby; but she supposed it was better than actually walking the streets.
<o></o>
But, she really couldn’t stop thinking about the gum pile under the drivers’ seat.

[Artisn]

People are unpredictable. A rather unique specimen, they embody an eloquence unrivaled in their kingdom. In every movement their is an impulse, a nature, enviroment....some tie that is so profound, yet at times subtle, that the trigger can't even be seen. Actions that seem random, although understanding explicates all. There is no random, no moment without strings attached, or seconds without a previous one or future partner to hold onto.

Yet, at times...it's had to unravel acts.

Artisn spilled into the car behind Anja, and without heed he proceeds further. A slop of mass threw him along, until grace yanked him back. He sat...close, taking Anja's last breath before he drifted further. All in a moments time he came from closing the door behind him to pressed against Anja as if snugged by an invisible, extra rider.

Lips pressed, tongue in and eyes in the dark behind closed lids, Anja felt a kiss of passion. Little time had allowed Artisn lose interest since their ride on the train, their flee from the Institute, his grip of her warm, embracing hand and morning conversation. He wasn't used to the feeling, but he identified it well. Art portrayed it endlessly, and emotions remained a key component to one of his deepest passions.

Lust wasn't the word--he liked it. Artisn moved with a pureness, without filter, and acted upon emotions more than social stigmas of relations. Already he cared for her, and a share of the lips just seemed...right.

[Anja Drake]

All concern for where the two were going disappeared when Artisn entered the cab. His sudden closeness had startled her, but his actions surprised her even more. The unexpectedness of his movements almost caused her to jump; the randomness of her present situation was enthralling as well as confusing.

“Artisn, wha- . . .” Her words were silenced by the foreign pressing of wandering gently lips.

The kiss was sweet and . . . simple and it spoke a thousand words. As she molded to the alien feeling, Anja’s stiffened form lightened slightly. She felt something from the kiss; something that passed from his lips to her lips. Though Anja was not quite sure what that ‘something’ was, she enjoyed it. She enjoyed it a lot and in so, her bashfulness was fading quickly.

Slender fingers caressed the soft skin of his neck gently. She could feel the warmth of his body; his closeness causing the blood in her face to rush to her cheeks. It surprised her how comfortable she was around Artisn; they had just met and already their relationship was evolving into something stronger.

A shy smile appeared on her lips as she barely pulled back, her eyes held questions behind them. Her voice was softly hushed from the passionate moment.

“What was that for?”

[Sen Oisel]

((Can this be deleted, please :) ))

[Artisn]

For a moment he seemed as puzzled as her, as if he didn't even do it. The taxi cab driver didn't request a route, or throw his name out. The only signal he gave was his eyes, beaming at the rear view mirror as the scene played out. A slight in time provided Artisn with the same view, out of body, viewing and entertained...as well as confused.

...Very, very confused.

Then his eyes diverted, his face changed, and his brows were silent to expression. A long his features was painted a calm, confirmed look too strong to be left unnoticed. The change was within seconds, and not a twinge beacon such abrupt transformation.

Yet, he was ever so calm. Even the chuckle he allowed to slide out was smooth as silk. A wave of reassurance destroyed any tide of puzzlement, leaving only Artisn sitting, eyes locked on her.

"I just felt it," he said, but left no room for space afterwards. Artisn dashed into the next topic, and his body swung along the seat in a rustle as he focused on the driver. Instead of dwell on the previous moment, Artisn blotted out the observant eyes, speaking only to his presence.

"Off tha...um--the Brooklyn Bridge."

[Anja Drake]

Strange, how ones personality could shatter in a split second and in the next, it was reassembled into something completely different. As if nothing had ever happened, it was tossed and forgotten. But, not by her; her mind still lingered on that single moment. Or that single moment lingered on her mind. Either way, she hadn’t let it go, not just yet; although her posture would have said otherwise.
<o></o>
Her presence was directed out toward the fast passing buildings; as if she was watching them as they sped by. However, her senses were on her new friend and nothing else, It was interesting, as the action a moment before, played out; the alluring attention of the whole thing was caused by a driven initial instinct. An instinct that Anja didn’t mind, she didn’t mind it at all.
<o></o>
Strange . . .
<o></o>
He had said he had just ‘felt’ it. Felt the moment, perhaps? She didn’t know, but still she didn’t mind it either. Not at all, she rather relished the spontaneous moment.
<o></o>
Still, she had a questioning mind. But, questions were for later, much later possibly; she and Artisn were stuck together now. Whether they liked our not; Anja however took interest in getting to know the ‘strange’ boy next to her.
<o></o>
From what she was noticing; Artisn knew his way around the city; if not, he had a good sense of direction. Anja had agreed to come with him tonight, not knowing where they were going or what they were going to do. The night was young and still a very, very big mystery.
<o></o>
And it would probably stay that way until they reached their destination.
<o>
</o>

[Artisn]

Night embraced the skyline, and the heavens dangled in a mystified darkness only destroyed momentarily by spots of light. Buildings tower in the masses as the city stood, but dwindled in the yellow taxi's retreat from the formidable audience. A flux of faces ran a tide through the streets, sidewalk and stairs. Despite the tire of day, the jumbling of the concrete jungle didn't seem to cease, only fade.

The taxi cab poured through the streets, traffic found at every turn and stop. All of it was a repetitive, flowing in a rhythm prepared to explode. Impulse captured the beat, playing it continuously at the jerks and scratches of the car. The wheels ran a course across the pavement in a massage to soothing to ignore,and though a dull silence separated Artisn he felt at ease.

At ease for a little while...

Every moment bolted a new appendix to his established trouble. The wall settled, and bricks grew even near until he enclosed in a prison of his own design. Artisn crunched in the corner, eyes out of the window only to see little light to guide him through his unsettling darkness. Rarely did the young mutant question his instincts, his thoughts so readily. He had grown cautious of his movements over time, leaving little room for mistake in retrospect. Yet, as all artist, he was absolutely introspective, and still quite socially acceptable. A unique breed, even in the lull of the drive he fumbled with word to say. Poetry was another fond hobby of his, and the meanings and sounds of letters formed together gave an essence too pure to ignore.

"I think I'm ready for you," he whisper. The hush of his tone couldn't be heard beyond a muse, left to fall only as a subtle grumble. No disdain set in his tone, he spoke with a lightness as he broke the bricks away.

A rush came to him again, and he grew near. The seat scrunched under him as he sled across to come closer...slowly, to her. She didn't deny him before, and passion gave him insight that few people could entice.

If only...

"I'm taking you--"

Not another word could be heard as the beat exploded. The rhythm was thrown out of wack, and a screech called. Outside stretched a bridge...the bridge; going from Manhattan to Brooklyn, a powerful landmark of New York.

"Here," said the taxi driver. The man was irritated, he didn't see anything juicy after the start of the ride. All the silence gave him no excitement, and the teaser only made it worst. He wanted the two out, and his pockets full.

[Anja Drake]

Oh how she hated fast, abrupt movements; her senses focused and moved quickly, but not super immediate. The time it took to focus her senses was similar to the time it took for a ‘normal’ persons eyes to focus. Although normally she was always alert any rapid motion caused unrest in Anja’s head.
<o></o>
Attention to the outside world was crucial’ it was the only way for her to see. Without perfect attention to detail Anja would be lost; she would truly be blind.
<o></o>
As for the aftermath of the rough stop, Anja’s head was left in a frenzy. Thoughts were jumbled and her mind set was defensive. Pushing the hair that had crowded her shoulders back to its original spot along her back, she fished through her pockets in her leather jacket.
<o></o>
Although she didn’t know exactly how much money she pulled out; she still placed well more than enough in the sliding plastic socket that transferred to the driver. She flashed the man as kind of a smile as she could muster before shifting her frazzled senses to Artisn.
<o></o>
“I get to pay this one.” As fluently as she could; she popped her door open and hopped on out. “Afterall, you are treating me to a night out in the city.”
<o></o>
The strained smile came back as she thanked, as politely as she could, the rude taxi driver and hurriedly shut the door. Almost immediately, she wished she was back inside that disgusting cab. Even through her flustered senses, she got an odd feeling from the area. Foriegn feelings were invading her well structured comfort zone.

Frozen . . .

She stood stark still, Anja knew that she was way over her head here.

[Artisn]

Artisn was used to taxi cab driver's rudeness. It was natural; nothing in the city phased him. The people that bumped one another and kept walking, the dynamic crowds that bundled about for window-shopping; it was all a mess he ignored. A sigh set it straight as he grabbed up his back pack with a bang of equipment inside, and sled out the door behind Anja.

She was pretty...

Real pretty...

Although he gave his eyes the chance to detail her, his other senses were off focus. Instead of realize he sudden change, he was ignorant. Out the door with the haste of the cab, his sleeves rolled up and body at ease he immersed himself in the moment.

Art splurge his mind as the design drawn flourished from his imagination. The variety of colors banked away at he swung his body smoothly around to give his attention to Anja. Certainly the Brooklyn Bridge wasn't like anywhere else, and Anja wasn't from around here.

"Ya like art, right?" He asked, his accent pouring out into his vernacular, giving away at an age of Atlanta, Georgia.

The question was rhetorical, and without heed he grabbed her hand and walked from the street divider. An ease of night cold swept as they dash at the hiccup of traffic. A canvas had been set, and the art was ready to lay as the two stopped at the other side.

He was ready...but was she?

[Anja Drake]

“Art is an expression of the soul and the character behind a person. It shows the talent hidden from all eyes.” Her voice was steady and soothing; her beliefs on Art were only just touched. She loved it, she love it all. “Art I can touch is especially my favorite.”
<o></o>
Although, different and very invading; there was a strange sense of beauty behind all the huge, diverse buildings and monuments. Even through her flustered comfort zone, she could appreciate the delicacy the builders had left behind in their work for all to see. The beauty, however, of this city was far more opposed than her beloved <st1:city w:st="on"><st1>Genoa</st1></st1:city>. Here, life seemed okay; people went away with their jobs and everything fit into the enormous bend of the city. But, home . . . <st1:city w:st="on"><st1>Genoa</st1></st1:city>, that city seemed to fit its people, instead of its people fitting into it and everybody did it favors in return.
<o></o>
Explaining the gap between these two places was simple. <st1:state w:st="on"><st1>New York</st1></st1:state>, was young, mysterious, and not to mention very, very dangerous. It was a perfect place for others her age, all the attributes between teenagers and this ruthless city matched. <st1:city w:st="on"><st1>Genoa</st1></st1:city>, was an ancient acropolis in the eyes of many people; a city where old things were made new. An exciting city; where people were abuzz with energy and everything was friendly. And even over the years, when <st1:country-region w:st="on">Italy</st1:country-region>’s golden age was long over, <st1:city w:st="on"><st1>Genoa</st1></st1:city> seemed to shine on with a serene elegance.
<o></o>
<st1:city w:st="on">Genoa</st1:city> was a comforting home and <st1><st1:state w:st="on">New York</st1:state></st1>. . . was an adventure. One that Anja was afraid to pursue, but also one that she was overly excited to explore. The two of them were in a majestic city and there was seemingly nothing to hold them back. Her hand was tightly held in his and they were cruising to a place where anything could or would happen.
<o></o>
How, thrilling, how thrilling indeed.

[Artisn]

There are times.. when you'll need someone..
I will be by your side..
There is a light, that shines,
special for you, and me..

Artisn eyes saw the vision in his head. The glare was strong, almost too strong. He had scribed the idea in his pad during class far too many times for a mistake. Even as the grip of her hand claimed his attention, he couldn't forget the details. The couple's feet beat against the sidewalk, standing at the view. The darkness of night shaded the water below, but Artisn saw it all before.

He had been here, but never tagged himself.

No one knew he was there before...

Not a second was spared as the thought pushed him off, throwing him upside down as he dangled over the edge. He had long lost the hold of Anja as he pulled out his tools. The art rested in his spray cans, and mind, supplying him with all the necessary commodities to explain himself.

The lines began to press against the steel foundation, creating the first distorted letter of graffiti.

He would be known, but he wouldn't leave Anja out of this. She would be in this too...for some reason, she was hidden behind his throwup, even though they had only met later.

"Come, see this as I start it up."

[Anja Drake]

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t see what he was doing. She studied, followed and even attempted to trace his motions in her head. Oh Lord, how she wished that she had been straight up with him in the first place. What was she going to say? What could she tell him? ‘Hey sorry, I’m blind and can’t see what you are doing’. No, that wouldn’t work. Not at all . . .
<o></o>
Through her senses she watched in helplessness as Artisn portrayed his skills through art and his other materials. There were multiple strings of native profanities running through her head as she ‘looked’ on over his shoulder. At the beginning of their little journey she had had a feeling his art was something she would miss. The truth was coming up a lot quicker than she wanted.
<o></o>
She supposed that if the moment came to tell him, she would. With no strings attached she hoped; if he rejected her, well she would deal with it when that moment came. As for now, she could only hope that the paint in the cans he was using would dry fast. Maybe, if it did, she could make a replica with the same skills she used for reading.

[Artisn]

The colors seemed like a replica of skittles. Variations of cans were cycled through his hands masterfully, even push and swing of his wrist casting another spell across the canvas called the bridge. The unique, yet ever so public spot, sought the eye with his creative style. Letters twisted into distortion of sort, matching the abstraction Artisn had mastered in his head over and over again. His imagination was freed as the illusion of a circle was formed, but really their was the coded symbol of the word "Art" amidst the cycling ball of color.

No one else had tagged the place before, and the excitement thrilled him as he glanced off cautiously at the passing traffic. Some gander over with suspicious eyes, while others gave quick shots over before refocusing on the road. No one seemed too interested, because New York and bums were synonymous.

Artisn from the back did not look anymore different than a street straggler, and that was fine by him. Movements were required to be incogneto, yet he was certian there was going to be trouble on the night. The chilling silence between Anja and Art had conjour sideglances over at his partner in crime, only to find her face focused as ever. However, he didn't find comfort in her expression.

One flicked of the wrist and all his cans were back into the bag, and hands diving in his pockets. A nonchalance blanketed his being as he looked over at Anja in hopes of praise. No words came out immeditately, but he waited.

"Whats...wrong..." he started, slightly confused. "Whats wrong with it?"

[Anja Drake]

Those words were filled with so much confusion and hurt that even years of exile couldn’t stop the salty liquid from filling well used tear ducts. The chances of getting to know the boy beside her without speculation and contradiction disintegrated right before her. The chances that Artisn would see her as a normal person were shattered and what could she say to him? Nothing . . . nothing but the truth now.
<o></o>
There was little to explain, but yet, it was so incredibly heard to be truthful and straightforward. Tears of her own hurt and frustration were about to spill over the well built barriers of her glassy eyes.
<o></o>
“N-no, Artisn.” Her voice cracked lamely. “Nothing is wrong with it, it’s probably perfect.”
<o></o>
The pain that was being suppressed was calling out to be released; Anja’s human side wanted her to trust him, to let him inside her world.
<o></o>
“But..but…” her stammering couldn’t be helped; she turned away from him in shame. Anja was ashamed of being what she was; yes, she accepted it but she was so ashamed…so disgusted.
<o></o>
The silent tears began to fall now as her body folded on itself and she slid down to the ground against a bare portion of the steely bridge, next to Artisn’s masterpiece. She stared down at the street; she felt as if she belonged lower than dirt itself.
<o></o>
“But, I can’t see it.” The river works were dripping off her chin and as some landed on the solid concrete, others landed on her jacket. “I’m blind Artisn; my world is nothing but gray and darkness. I can only see what my powers allow me to see.”
<o></o>
She drew a shaky breath and she shifted in discomfort against the wall on the ground; wrapping her arms around herself as if to protect herself from the rejection that was about to come. “I should apologize to you, Artisn. I cannot see the beautiful work you created.”