Defecting [Vienna\Public]

Fränze hadn't slept even one more night in her car. she knew she had to get out, no-- wanted to get out. Or at least, she convinced herself so. And after that she tried not to think of why, busying herself with packing her clothes into expensive luggage, deciding what to leave and what to take. But soon all that became as routine as clockwork, making room for other thoughts.

She had been overthrown. There was once a time when she was well respected. Until he came along.

He, the name she would no longer say. He usurped her, caged her mind, used her body... And she let it all happen. But now she would let it happen to someone else, as it invariably already had. He thought she was stupid, an airhead with nothing to show for her life except sleeping up the salary ladder.

She would show him. She angrily stuffed her last fur coat into the coat suitcase and tried to slam it, but it was almost too full. The frustrated slam became more of a muffled click.

She had packed everything, including her music box and the few figurines she wanted to keep. Everything... Except one. The harpsichord that had been bolted to the wall for years. That beautiful kinetic work of art. Her constant friend through gossip and scorned love and all that came with the heirarchy here. She forced herself to remind herself that she could get a new one later. Possibly. Maybe a better one. It was what she had to say about Auguste, too. As the porters loaded her bags into her Royce, she had time to say goodbye to it. She didn't play it, just ran her fingers over it, remembering the feel. She would always remember the sound. But the feel was uniquely hers, the keys worn down after years of practice. Secretly, she hoped Piter would find it. He would take care of it, for sure.

With one final look back to see if she missed anything, she shrugged on the fur coat that wouldn't fit in the case and headed to her car. She had to pay the porters. Never before had she had to do it. They did it because she ruled there. Her empire was gone.

Driving away proved more difficult than the packing. With each mile her vision grew blurrier with exhaustion and tears. The makeup that she had freshly applied less than an hour before was already falling down her eyes.

Finally she reached the entrance to the ragtags. She had assumed it would be better than this. It was morning now-- no one was even setting up? Mystique would be so busy with preparation during these hours when it wasnt too hot to work. What kind of people were these? Oh, right. The kind that throw their shoes into rivers and try to walk on their hands.

She would have laughed if the tears had stopped by then. She settled on a bench outside what she assumed was the office, and very uncharacteristically fell asleep. She wasn't used to this much exhaustion. She would wake up before them, surely. Her mind just had to repair for a while. Fränze curled up in a ball, her heart lifting for a moment when she realized she'd never done much on her own. And now she was changing her own life.

Itakshir was depressed. Alarmingly so.

He'd gone from being the guy who could wake up every day shining brighter than the sun that hadn't yet risen, to dragging himself out of bed to face the darkness. Who moped around and didn't want to talk to even his friends (which was basically every living, breathing creature in ragtags). Who picked at his food in silence and stopped laughing at his own silly shenanigans. Who flopped into bed at the end of the day, with his back turned to everyone else, without eagerly telling another one of his bizarrely lewd and hilarious folk tales, as was previously his nightly ritual.

Two words had done it to him. Actually, just one, really.

'Filthy urchin.'

That was what that mysterious and beautiful girl had called him. To be honest, he didn't know the proper meaning of 'urchin'--he thought it was some short version of 'sea urchin'--so really the first word was what did it.

Filthy. He'd been called that before. But not in a long time, and he'd forgotten how much it hurt. (Even more than just a case of wounded feelings, it felt like an ancient pain--one that had been weighing on his soul longer than he'd ever been around for in this life.) He wasn't even sure what he'd done to deserve it. Then again, he never had.

And the worst part was, he'd never find the answer, because he was never going to see that girl again. Fränze. He hadn't even been trying to get into her dress, and she'd gotten angry at him, for some mysterious reason that would forever bother him.

"Yeah, I thought she was beautiful, too," he whispered while ruffling the fur on his bear's head--who just gave a sleepy snort in reply. Even the animals didn't want to be up this early with him.

Sighing, he was about to go look for something to do, when his ears perked up to the sound of a car outside. Curious, he crept up to the entrance of the tent and peeked out--to see quite the strange sight. Some small form was sleeping on the bench outside the rickety tent, just a dozen yards or so away. It didn't seem like another hobo or escaped convict, if that suitcase was any indication.

Slowly, as if he were stalking a wild animal in the forest, he approached the figure, his eyes growing wider with each step--it couldn't be...

It was. Exhaling a pent-up breath, he just stared at her in awe for a moment, trying to take in what he was seeing and why. Unable to come to any conclusion on his own, he gave up and simply sat down cross-legged on the ground in front of her, to wait for her to wake up.

A part of hunting was waiting patiently for the right moment. The more you thought you wanted what you were pursuing, the more patient you had to be. He could be patient.

She had no idea how her comment had affected him. But before she left, however, she'd thought about apologizing. Perhaps he had been just what he seemed. She just had never met someone like that. And he didn't say anything back after she'd walked away. She thought It was because he was walking away too, in frustration, just like her. Maybe she was just wrong.

She would find out, surely. But sooner than she'd hoped.

She was dwarfed by her own coat; it hung over her like a blanket. She was exhausted... But she'd forgotten that she no longer enjoyed sleeping. Her blue eyes opened slowly, surrounded by a cloudy ring of black mussed makeup. They opened slightly more in surprise, but tiredness kept them from any real emotion. She shrugged off the coat as she slowly sat up, keeping her eyes on him. There was a moment when she said nothing, she only looked at him.

Then, quietly, she rung her hands in her lap as tears pooled in her eyes. "...I'm not really happy..." and then the tears spilled, and she folded up into her hands, as if there was a large weight on her shoulders she realized there was no way she could handle.

He probably could have said something quite mean in response, something that would injure her feelings as much as she'd injured his. ...But it seemed obvious that she didn't need any more of that. And he'd strangely never felt any anger towards her, just hurt--he'd chalked it up to her not being Japanese, but...he wasn't sure if there was more to it.

Getting onto his knees in front of her, he gently pried her hands away from her eyes and lifted her face, smiling for the first time since she'd walked away. Not having any handkerchief, he pulled off his own headband and began to daub away the tears and splotchy makeup. 

"Don't worry," he reassured quietly, "It's clean--I wash every day." He would have said 'I follow the bathing ritual', but that no longer held true; there wasn't any water short of a hot spring hot enough for that. But still, coming from a society where purity of body was very literally a religious doctrine, he felt it was important to establish that he was not, in fact, filthy.

Once that was made clear, he went on to wipe away the evidence of her unhappiness--which was harder than it looked, as he was afraid to handle her roughly. As he worked, he spoke to her soothingly, "Let me tell you a story: there was a young man from Ainuland, who'd always been poor and miserable. But one day, he was allowed to leave and find a new home, where people didn't look down on him, and he could do and say what he liked. For the first time in his life, he felt pure happiness."

Done with her eyes, he brushed her bangs out of her face and curled them behind one ear. "Because, you know, people only belong where they're happiest."

She'd been wrong. He was just someone genuinely good, genuinely concerned. She wanted to say she'd been wrong about him then, but all the could come out was a quiet, choked, "You... Aren't ...what I... Said..." She also wanted to tell him that the blackness that was now on the bandana probably wouldn't come off. But if he was shown her mercy now she wouldn't say anything. Plus, she really couldn't, with the way she had been sobbing. "...Thank you..."

Listening to his story over the sound of her own sniffling she decided it was about him. Not that she knew what Ainuland was. Later she would ask. Clearly she didn't know alot about this man. already he was proving to be everything Auguste wasn't, or everything he acted like. But it was all genuine.

And he didn't know about her. Stay where she felt happiest? She smiled shakily a him and shook her head. "Maybe... Maybe some people... Don't have that place..."

Yet, if she was forced to choose, that place would be here and now.

((FINALLY, MY INTERNET IS WORKING. :I))

Replacing his now likely-permanently stained headband around his hair, he gave her a wide grin, which belied the tenderness in his tone somewhat, "Don't worry, I'll help you find it." He didn't know what in the world he owed this woman, but he felt compelled to help. Maybe just because he was a nice guy--he'd wanted to help Cosim find a girl, too. Well, that had worked out well, hadn't it? Granted, the man still apparently hadn't gotten around to checking for teeth-- There was no reason he couldn't succeed here, too.

Or was it that he wanted to help her find that her happy place could be here...?

Taking her hands, he pulled her smoothly to her feet, steadying her on the gravel. It was then that he finally caught the hand-shaped bruise on her arm ((/ignoring the fact that her sleeves might be covering it)), an ugly and out-of-place mark on otherwise immaculate skin. Frowning in confusion, he lifted her elbow up so he could look at it more carefully, "What's this? What happened here...?"

Come to think of it, he hadn't gotten around to asking yet why she was even there. Had something happened back at the other carnival? That bruise looked too big to be that of a woman's hand--wait, hadn't she mentioned that she had 'a man'? Was this his work? Well, that would certainly explain why she'd left. Some mixed emotions flared up in him: mostly shock that any 'man' would handle a woman in such a rough way. (Granted, Itakshir himself could get way too pushy at times--especially when drunk--but he'd never do something to this extent.)

But there was also an uplifting notion (which made him feel a bit guilty--there shouldn't have been anything uplifting about her getting hurt): the possibility that she was now single.

...But when had that ever mattered to him before?

((huzzah! XD just so you know, I'm almost done with the first vignette XD idk if it's any good, but they will get better XD))

The notion that happiness to him just needed a little more searching brought a small smile to her face. Perhaps living there wouldn't be so bad after all. Then again, she had no idea what the conditions would be like. She wasn't thinking about that now. She was only focused on his smile, trying to mirror it as if the happiness would transfer back to her. It was working, a little. Her only response to his reassurances was a small happy laugh that barely got out.

She felt weightless on her feet. Relief, that was what it is. Until her sleeve slid down and he caught sight of the black and purple on her wrist. Shame overtook her quickly. "The man I was with... We argued..." She smiled sadly and gave an unconvincing shrug. "...He won." Gesturing that she could stand on her own, she slipped her arm from his grip. "I wasn't happy there. So I wanted to try somewhere else. Like you said..." She didn't know what she was waiting for. Praise? Congratulations?

"Do you think... I could stay here? At least for a while..." Then, hesitantly, "I can work..."

((If you miraculously write something even better than that, I will have to drive up there to kiss you--/SHOT XD))

He frowned, already forming a mental image of what this other guy was like. (...It would have been a lie if he said he wasn't imagining him in a kimono and topknot.)
But, he had to reward her with a smile of approval. "Well, it's brave, what you did." Especially if she was trading the life of luxury for...this. Reassuringly, he added, "It'll all be for the best, in the end, you'll see." He hoped so, anyways.

His spirits lifted considerably when she did, indeed, reveal that she wanted to stay there. But all the same, he had to laugh, "It's not up to me, but I can put in the good word for you. The guy you want to talk to is in there," he pointed at the opening of the tent, "...Or at least, he's supposed to be." He just shrugged.

Supposedly, some guy in charge slept in there, but Itakshir had never met or even seen the man. Because he couldn't read or write, he couldn't sign up officially like most people, to begin with. And he'd never been inside that tent.

((I've got some ideas in the works B) pffft XD))

For the record, she had no idea how far removed the lifestyle here was to her former luxury. At the moment she was expecting just a bit less comfort. She had no idea.

Maybe no one was in the tent because there was simply no leader here. She went in to check, still shaky on her feet, and sure enough, everything was covered by a layer of dust. No one had shuffled through the office with any purpose for a while. There was one paper that contained names, less dusty than the rest, but it didn't seem to have any rhyme or reason. Just a sign-up sheet. Nothing but names. At the top she found his, looking like someone else had written it. She scrolled down the list with her finger until she reached the bottom. The one above the next space simply said "Sofia"; as if it were written just to make it official. So they did have the girl. Oh, well. What could she do about it now?

She also figured that if someone completely blind counted as a contributing member, she would too. Shaking the neglect from a pen, she signed her name, considerably more legible, more fancy, than the rest. She went back out and joined him again. "I wrote my name down... Maybe they'll see it... But-- do you even have a leader, here...?"

And where would she stay? Sue was hesitant to meet any others besides him, lest her happiness at finding peace somewhere be shattered by people she wasn't sure would like her. And plus... She didn't want to leave the sphere of goodwill he radiated, his kindness, or leave without figuring out the enigma that he was.

As she went inside, he took a look at her (considerably large) suitcase, wondering what was inside. Most people came here with next to nothing...if not nothing at all, other than the clothes on their backs. Picking it up by the handle, he sat it upright on the ground, noting it's weight. It certainly wasn't filled with feathers, but it wasn't too much to handle. He doubted she was capable of carrying it on her own, so he supposed that responsibility fell onto his shoulders--not that he minded, but he would have rather had his hands free.

There was no way they could just leave it there, though, while he showed her around (which, of course, he planned to do next). Despite most of the carnival being asleep at this time, there was no telling who might happen to stumble on it and take a peek inside. Itakshir wasn't usually smart enough to gamble, but even he'd bet that there were all kinds of valuable things in that suitcase.

When she stepped out to rejoin him, he greeted her with a smile as she posed her question. "A leader? We're supposed to, I guess, but I've never met him," he laughed, "Either way, things run pretty smoothly on their own." As far as he could tell, anyways.

Picking up her suitcase once again, he beckoned for her to follow him, "What do you want to see first? The main tent?" He couldn't help but glance at her shoes (and clothes in general) and wonder if she had anything more suitable for the rougher terrain here. Even inside the tent, there was nothing but gravel to walk on. Well...maybe it would be best to just not point it out. If it bothered her, she would probably do something about it on her own--at least she wasn't like Sofia, where they'd had to completely find new clothes for her.

So they did have no leadership. Somehow it wasn't surprising, but it made her wonder how all the members got along. Everyone in mystique hated each other, leadership kept them in line.

She wanted to ask where she could sleep. If not that, then where does one use the facilities. At mystique she'd had her own bathtub, always with heated water. Here... Here she sincerely doubted there was even one tub. But she knew she was in no position to be ordering the host around, especially when he was being so gracious.

"Yes... I'd like to see everything," she replied back politely, after thanking him for taking her suitcase. Even for him it was probably heavy. She waited a moment. And waited. ...He was nice, but he had no manners. Finally, she just looped her arm around his. To her, it was just a habit.

"So, what do you like about living here?" She hoped he'd say 'the food', or 'the privacy', or 'the hygiene'. It was doubtful.

Oh, they had a tub. A big metal basin. That was it. Filled with whatever water they could find (never heated), and used in a somewhat-but-not-very secluded car, by all the carnies and stage hands. Understandably, whenever they were near any body of water, Itakshir and many others (that actually cared about bathing) preferred to take that option. Though there was one thing the metal basin was good for: 'accidentally' walking in on the women bathing.

"You came at a good time, lots of people are still asleep--" He cut himself off when she took his arm, an expression of surprise instantly springing to his face. Such a gesture was not used where he came from, so he'd never known it was any kind of social norm. But he wouldn't argue with or question it. Touching was never a bad thing, in his opinion.

Trying to keep his pace measured with hers, he responded without missing a beat, "The people!" No attempt was made to disguise the warm smile that was brought to his face, "The people here are so great--it feels like everyone is equal to each other. I love it." In his opinion, one could be in the best place in the world, but it could easily feel like the worst with the wrong people. And in return, the worst place could easily become a thousand times better with the right people. Little did he know, his innocent notions were very much representative of the two rival carnivals.

She almost wished the moment could be frozen and lived in forever so all she had was silence and his smile (how did that get there?) and she wouldn't have to meet the people who were all asleep, and would most likely hate her. "Where... Where do they sleep?"

She almost jumped when he answered her first query. The answer was hardly satisfying. She certainly wouldn't be equal to the rest in their eyes. "Yes well... I'm not as amiable as you are..." She laughed sadly. "I'm afraid these people won't like me." Especially with what they might have heard from the blind girl. Her outlook was not good.

They stepped into the main tent. There were no stands for freaks, no signs procaliming that one would not believe their eyes. Just stages partitioned off; some with bleachers, others without. She could tell the stages did belong to people, though. Weights were on one, torches on another....

And was that a bear cage?

"There's two cars, one for the guys, one for the women," he reassured. If only he knew that separate gender sleeping quarters was probably the last thing she'd thought to worry about. (In his case, it had been something of a disappointment when he first joined the team; it made it harder to partake in his favorite activity.) Having separate cars for individuals, or even groups of individuals, was not something he even considered that she might consider.

He looked to her questioningly, but still with a smile, as though confused as to whether or not she was joking, "Why wouldn't they? I like you." As if that meant much--he liked everyone. Sure, she'd said one mean thing to him before, and that had hurt quite a lot, but even then, he had still liked her. And she'd taken it back, so it was all okay now, right? He saw no reason why anyone shouldn't share his sentiments.

When they stepped inside the main tent, he set down her suitcase for a moment, unlooped her arm, and took a step away from her, making a signal for her to stand back. Grinning, he whistled loudly, causing the massive furry form to perk up from where it was sleeping. Getting to it's feet, it nudged the door of it's cage open (no lock; Itakshir had broken it off, much to the dissatisfaction of the stage hands), and, yawning widely first (showing off its' teeth), suddenly began to bound towards them. With a small leap, it tackled its' trainer, causing them both to roll across the ground in a mess of laughter and fur. The Ainu looked very much like any young boy with his dog. His very, very oversized dog.

Once he was able to get up, clothes and hair considerably disheveled, he grinned and gestured to the animal, "This is my bear, kishirekari-guru." Then, with a laugh, he explained, "It means 'wanderer', because I found him wandering around the woods." It was the first bear he'd neither killed nor stolen from it's mother--perhaps that was why he didn't plan on using it as a sacrifice.

Patting the bear's back firmly, he made it sit down obediently. "You can pet him, if you want--he won't bite or anything."

She only nodded in response, feeling the lack of privacy creep over her like a dark cloud. And who knew what these women were like? They were probably strong enough to beat her head in for all she knew.

His next statement lightened her up, though. "Even after I said those things to you? That tells me you aren't like most people."

She blanched when she heard him whistle not unlike how he had at the lake, and she saw the bear stir. She moved back farther than she was told to, almost screaming when it tackled him, but he was... Laughing?

And he wanted her to pet it? She swallowed the large lump of fear in her throat and made sure to give the animal a wide berth as she moved behind it-- away from the teeth-- and lightly tapped it's back, quickly retracting her hand. "S-see, you aren't like most people. You're nice to people like me and you're nice to..." She swallowed again. "Bears."

((So apparently the secret to overcoming writer's block is to be stuck studying something so mind-numbing (AND I FIND IT IRONIC THAT ART HISTORY--A SEEMING COMBO OF TWO THINGS I LOVE MOST--IS MORE BORING TO STUDY THAN WORMS AND SPONGES) that you will gladly attempt to grapple with overwhelming creative slumpage. :I))

In response to her timidity, the animal merely snorted lightly and flopped down with a loud, moaning yawn. Itakshir, ignoring the bear entirely, had his gaze trained on her.

Without really thinking about it (when did he ever), he took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze--very gentle; her fingers were awfully thin in comparison to his work-roughened ones. "Don't be scared; I won't let you get hurt." He didn't know if he was referring to only the immediate danger or not. If this woman were in trouble, he would probably get killed before he stood aside and watched her be injured. Granted, he might do that for any number of people he cared about (not only women), but not with the same zeal--he'd still be thinking of himself, of his own safety. There was something about this young lady that was not like the rest. Was it because he'd just never been around upper-class people? He couldn't know for sure, but he was willing to bet not.

Maybe it was her apparent fragility. Maybe it was her (in his opinion) unparalleled beauty. Maybe it was because she'd confessed to being unhappy and hurt by others, which he could sympathize with. Maybe it was because he knew he could offer her one thing that many could not: kindness in an unkind world. Maybe it was any number of things. But he wanted to see her happy.

Picking up her luggage again, he whistled at his bear to go back to it's cage and looped her arm in his again, remarking lightly, "You know? I may not be very smart, but I figured out something." He smiled encouragingly, "You see the best side of people when you treat them nicely."

Most of her fear disappeared when he took her hand, and she squeezed his back, weakly. Hesitantly, she left his side and kneeled in front of the bear. With a shaking hand, she raised it up, and when the bear sat up again, she wrapped her arms around its neck and buried her face in it's fur, like she used to do with her dogs before she could walk. In a way, in a place she didn't know, in a world she was a stranger in... Wasn't it the same gesture?

She spent a while there, hardly registering that this was a bear she was touching (or that her previous protests over it recalling the memories of hunting but always escorted home if there was a bear; to keep her safe and from seeing death were from a very convincing dream and not reality) but only a warm, alive thing that seemed to finally thaw the chill at her core.

When she stood up finally, she laughed, small but no longer shaky, "I think he likes me." Somehow it seemed like a great feat.

Instinctively, she stood closer to him when he took her arm again, wondering in her mind why the bear really had to go. It was just a big dog, really. Well, to her. To him it was probably just a bear.

She walked with him, and listened. She almost stopped though, when she heard his theory. "That's wrong," She commented quietly. "Being nice to people gives them a chance to take advantage." Somehow she knew that wasn't his angle, though. "Sometimes it's easier to treat everyone like you would treat an enemy. They won't hurt you then."

She had been treated badly, but equally as much she was the aggressor. Harshness begot harshness, she was only paying it forward.

He couldn't help but (if possible) smile even more widely when she suddenly whole-heartedly embraced the bear. At the most, he'd expected her to pet it once or twice more, but this was a pleasant surprise. Where had the courage come from, out-of-the-blue like that? Or was it just that she needed something to embrace right now? If that was the case, he couldn't say he wasn't a bit jealous. However, it didn't detract from the endearing sight.

"I'm sure he does, but I'll ask him later anyways," he laughed as well, in response to her laughter; the sound of which made he himself feel a bit better--he was worried for a moment that he'd only added to her distress by introducing the large animal.

Leading her around the large tent so that she could look at things if she wished, he grinned down at her. "Are you going to take advantage of me, then?" And then, with another hearty laugh, "Even if you did, it's okay--I wouldn't figure it out, either way." After a pause, he added somewhat more softly, not quite looking in her direction, "...I'd never hurt you, though."

A promise made to a friend, he told himself. Nothing more. Friends didn't hurt each other, so that was all he meant...right?

She sniffed the residual distress away and smiled, looking back at the bear to make sure it wasn't trained to wave or say goodbye or something silly like that. She did both, though. Just in case.

She really couldnt see the stages being exhibited to her. He was like a candle, lighting a safe way but making everything else seem darker in comparison. Frowning at his inquiry, she hugged his arm closer. "I would never think it," She stated matter-of-factly. "If you think I'm a good person, then I have no choice but to live up to your standards." What were her standards at mystique? A harpy? A whore? She became what people thought of her, she realized with a slight shiver of fear. Was she really so weak?

Then-- she was afraid to ask him-- was it that he wouldn't figure it out or wouldn't want to figure it out? The thought saddened her. This was a man who'd braved many wrongs-- so to him, what was one more?

"...I'd never hurt you, though."

Almost so quiet she didn't hear it. But so loud in her mind, so true, that it warmed her. Her arm unlooped from his and she gently took his hand just as he had hers. "I know," She said back just as quietly. She walked in silence with him for a while longer, wondering how to word what she would say next.

"Itakshir," the name no longer felt strange on her tongue. "Do you think... You could find somewhere for me to sleep?" The adrenaline from the tears and stress had long since worn off. But so had the need to be alone. "Somewhere... You could stay with me...?" She didn't want to be tossed into some car with a load of strangers who harbored contempt simply from her name. She wanted to hold his hand and fall asleep to the rhythm of that slow calming heartbeat; the same one she felt in the bear, the same one she swore she could hear from his chest in the static of silence. "Please...?" She didn't mean for it to come out sounding so desperate.

The gesture she made to the retreating mass of fur did not escape his notice. "You have to say it in the language he understands," he explained. Twisting around, he waved to it, "Sui unukar an ro!" To which the bear raised it's paw in a sort of floppy salute and bellowed slightly before curling up again to go back to sleep.

He wasn't really seeing the empty carnival, either, if he had to be honest (and he tended to be). Every chance he got, he was looking at her out of the corner of his eye, only glancing away to make sure he wasn't leading both of them right into a pole or cage. She was like something he couldn't even describe--the kind of beauty that you couldn't tire of looking at.

"Just 'good'?" He laughed and corrected frankly, "'Good's not good enough to describe you; that's too boring of a word. ...Then again, my vocabulary's not really the best." Not in this language, anyways. In his own, he could think of hundreds of words he would have used for her. Still, no single one really did the trick.

As she took his hand, he intertwined his fingers with hers, the tiny arrowheads on his knuckles pointing towards her fingertips. Questions ran through his mind that he wasn't sure he cared to answer. Why was he being so intimate with a girl he didn't plan on sleeping with? Oh, he wanted to, sure, but even he knew the limits--she'd just gone through a hard time, so he was being respectful of that, right? But that begged the question again of why the tenderness, why the intimacy. He was always either a one-night fling or a friend, but never anything in-between.

But she spoke up, interrupting his thoughts. Could he find somewhere for her to sleep? Sure, of course he would. Of course. He'd do anything--but the words froze on his tongue. "You could stay with me...?" It took every fiber of his almost non-existent self-discipline to not immediately blurt out an agreement. He was almost visibly struggling with himself; it wasn't right, it wasn't okay. With him, one thing would inevitably lead to another, no doubt about it. He had to say no. ...Ohh, but he really didn't want to--no. No. He had to decline, it was the right thing to do. Gearing himself up reluctantly, he--

"Please...?"

"Okay," he agreed immediately. Beaten. Just like that. God damn it, he could have slapped himself. And yet, a surge of excitement went through him, much to his inner guilt. But what was he supposed to say, now that he'd agreed? 'I'm practically a sex addict, and there's no way I can sleep in the same vicinity as a woman without taking advantage of her?' ...That didn't seem like it would go over so well.

Directing her outside, uncertain of what he was even doing anymore and what was right or wrong or acceptable, he said without thinking, "I know this one car that's always empty--I'll show you." The car he brought women to when he wanted privacy. Classy. Very classy. Inwardly, he cringed at himself, feeling chagrined for the first time in his life about his habits.

The waving bear got him a surprised giggle and a small jump. He had taught it everything. She only hoped to see more of it in the future. What was it's name? Did she feel bad that she didn't remember? Yes. It was incredibly rude to the bear. Oh well.

One corner of her mouth turning upwards in disbelief as he spoke, "So what would you call me, then? I insulted you only to later show up at your doorstep as a burden." A very large social faux-pas. "Certainly not outright good."

She looked down at her feet and smiled as she felt his fingers weave through hers. It was like a key that had finally gotten into the right place in a lock; sue could practically hear the satisfying metallic click and the feeling of all her bad emotions leaving. Perhaps it was her state of mind when she got there, perhaps it was a real feeling-- but she really enjoyed his company. Really.

And he'd accepted her offer; she was more than glad. For one, in the course of her episode, it seemed as if she'd forgotten how to heat herself. He was a suitable space heater. For another... Well she didn't quite know what that one meant yet. An empty car-- fantastic. Unlikely to be searched; she could rearrange herself before having someone else see her disheveled state. He was gracious. Too Gracious. "Danke," Lightly she leaned up and placed a small kiss on his cheek. It was hardly enough.

He looked to her in surprise, "Burden?" As if he didn't even know the meaning of the word. He'd never thought to consider assisting a friend a 'burden'. It was just something he did. Something he enjoyed. "How could someone so beautiful be a burden?" He grinned at her with a raised eyebrow, in disbelief of her disbelief, genuinely unable to imagine that any man would not be delighted to do this for her. He wore some truly rosey glasses...but not necessarily in a bad way. "I'd call you a person I'd always be happy to help."

When she kissed his cheek, he could practically feel the exact outline of her lips, even after she'd pulled away--as if they'd burned an impression into his skin. He was no stranger to the touch of a woman's lips, but this was a sensation that was new even to him. He just smiled at her in reply, for once having nothing to say.

The empty car was some distance away from the others--just one of the reasons why no one else had discovered it; fewer people frequented the cars this far down the line. When they reached it, he set the suitcase on the ground and released her hand to go slide open the slightly heavy door with a rusty squeak. The inside was unlit and more than just a little bare; the only things inside were a few piles of hay. Standing back, he noted apologetically, "Not much, is it? But it's the only private place around here." His only private place. It dawned on him that he had nowhere to bring girls to, now. Why was he only just now considering this? ...Oh well, he'd have to figure out something else when the time came. In the meantime...

"There's no step or ramp," he explained, gesturing his offer to lift her up inside. The cars were higher up off the ground than people realized, until they tried getting into one. Another reason why no one used this thing; it wasn't worth the struggle if you didn't have a good reason to get inside.

She didn't have much to say to his compliment, except maybe dart her eyes to him for one moment with a blush. "I just thought... Maybe you had a job you couldn't do because of me." Then, another smile. More than she thought she'd ever smile that day. "Thank you."

When he opened the car's door, she got a chance to peek inside. Hay. How ironic. But she was too tired to care. She had all her things with her, she could lay a coat over it all. He was right, the bottom of the car was almost at her shoulders. Without thinking, she put her arms over his shoulders so she could be lifted up (not like it wasn't easy enough already).

As she was being lifted into the car, a thought crossed her mind. "Why don't more people try and claim this car if it's empty?" She had no notion of his normal interactions with women. It would be a surprise to her, to say the least.

He snorted and laughed, "Nah, it's nothing; no one's even awake yet, so I'd just be sitting around waiting." Well, not entirely true--he was only doing nothing because he'd been moping. Otherwise, he'd fill the time by doing his own personal chores--washing his clothes (occasionally if one of the girls were up, they'd join him and he'd entertain them by singing silly songs or telling one of his less raunchy stories), bathing, weaving a new pair of shoes out of bits of straw and hay... In the meantime, he was borrowing a pair that didn't quite fit him.

It was indeed incredibly easy to lift her; she was as light as fine china, and just as brittle. But Itakshir was having a hard time of it in a different way. Maybe the average guy wouldn't have found such a simple gesture as her arms being around his shoulders as enticing--but he wasn't all that average. Her neck was just inches from his nose, he could have planted kisses anywhere on it if he wanted, could have torn into her top--with his teeth, if he had to (it probably wasn't impossible; he'd undone bra hooks with his teeth before, once). 

And the fact that, for a moment, he was fully allowed to touch her where he willed (sort of)...well, it was almost too good of an opportunity to miss. 

But he managed to restrain himself by focusing on the otherwise very simple task at hand.

After lifting her by the waist and setting her gently on the floor of the car, he very nearly missed her question. "What? Oh...I don't think anyone else really knows it's here." (Or if they did, they also knew what it was usually used for--he'd claimed it in his own way by making people afraid to walk in on something unsavory.) "It's kind of my secret." He grinned like a kid with a makeshift hideout or fort.

Hauling her suitcase up and inside with a fair amount of effort, he hopped in, as well, using the palms of his hands as leverage.

Well now she didn't feel as bad. But maybe he wasn't telling the whole truth-- and she certainly hated her morning routine being ruined-- and somehow she felt just as bad again. Lost in her own thoughts she failed to catch the confliction in his behavior, but before she knew it, she was sitting in the car. Her suitcase was hoisted up next to her and she dragged to a corner of the car.

When she packed for anything, she packed everything. She opened the suitcase and pulled out a lantern and a box of matches, finally lighting up the room just enough.

And just because this was an empty train car didn't mean she had to live like an animal in it. Next from her luggage came a portable dressing screen, which she put together with some difficulty-- she hadn't had to use it much before-- and eventually sat upright to block her off from the rest of the car. It was from behind there she washed the rest of her mussed makeup away (of course she brought water and soap, to an extent she knew what she was dealing with at this place) and changed into nightclothes. With that done she came out from the screen and inspected the piles of hay. Ruin her coats or keep whatever was in that hay off of her.

Ruin her coats. She hefted a few expensive furs from the large suitcase and situated them over the hay, testing to make sure it was all covered well enough. Satisfied, she sat down against them and looked to him, as if she was waiting. For what, she didn't even know.