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Congratulations on your second!

Getz well soon!

He was thrown forward in his seat, the belt digging sharply in his shoulder he let out a grasp of horror. The front car was only centimeters away from the hood of the cab he had chosen to ride today. It had been a bad idea, because traffic was crazy in New York. Not just some days. Everyday traffic was just dangerous.

„§%&§(“

The cab driver swore mildly. For a cab driver that is, which meant that Martins hand involuntarily made its way up to cover his mouth. That curse had been foul. He even blushed slightly. This was enough. He decided on leaving the vehicle right now, before something else might arouse the drivers fury, which would inadvertently lead to another enrichment of his vocabulary. Not that he minded learning new words, but this drivers language was both slurred by the accent of what probably was gang English and colorful to say the least. Colorful in ways he never had imagined. He had just heard a comparison between the offending cars driver and ...certain animals
body parts if he was not mistaken..... he did not even want to think about it any more and signaled for halt. The eyes in the mirror flashed with much less fury then expected. Had that person been intent on getting rid of him? Or was it just startled by his reaction to what some might consider a normal cab drive. Well he didn't consider it normal, so he payed the now tooth grinding driver the price on the meter, the exact price on the meter that is, and left, now spiteful looks following him.

He had left at Carnegie Hall, an Opera House named after a famed philanthropist if he was not misinformed, but right now the only music he could hear was the sound of car engines and fading sirens as he got ready to walk around the block of the hall. He quickly glanced at his watch and flinched. Another missed appointment this was. He scolded himself mentally for not looking more often at his watch and not being more prepared to deal with the traffic here. Again. A scolding would not do for this. He was about ready to give himself a mental slapping.

He was so focused on himself, that he did not even notice, that he took a wrong turn. A turn that led into an alleyway. Blinking he realized that he was not in a major road, but between two walls closing in on him. This was going to get him a mental spanking. Not alleyways again. He had made several bad encounters on these paths and now he was walking them again. There built up a tension between his shoulder blades. He spun around, frantically looking for the source of his uneasiness, just to find, that he was looking at shadows and the usual debris.

“All your money. Now.”

The sound of a rasping voice dripping with mockery filling his ears like slime was accompanied by the most surprising feeling of coldness on his neck. The sleek grime that oozed out of the mouth of the person behind him apparently had some metallic support to go with it. He froze in place even without the demand to do so, while his hands searching in his pocket for the desired object. His finger felt numb and sweat was popping up on his forehead. He did not even notice the sleek leather of the wallet slipping through his gloved fingers. Had his hand really been shaking just now? The object of desire landed on the ground in the middle of a dirt pile. The reaction was quick to come. Strong shove from behind made him topple into a metal door on one of the walls.

Bang

The connection with the other piece of coldness was one that sparked a fire in his head. On his head more accurately, for he had hit it head on. He turned around furiously, to see the thief straightening up. In his hands was not a gun, but a set of metal brass knuckles and his wallet. Time slowed down as anger welled up and he searched for the best way out of this situation, for he had seen the face of the would be thief clearly. If he was any good in his trade then that would just amount to a much graver situation. Thieves did not like people seeing their faces. And with him a moment of his time was enough.

What was she doing there? Were those grunts really noises of pain?She was... echoing him somewhat. The stress that was bouncing out from him was amplified in her voice. He just hoped, that he was not doing something foolish as young people often did.

“There is no need for you to concern yourself. I will be alright.”

He told the truth. He would be alright. He just was not at the moment. That sentence may or may not have been smart. It would either deter her or get her moving if she was not already and if he was right. Either possibility was valid. And either possibility was OK with him. Action was preferable, especially in this place. Laughing, giggling... It seemed this wretched prison was being put on its way to becoming a happy place. A few decorations on the walls, a few flowers and a lot more light was all it needed to be better. But even right now it was good and maybe action was not preferable her after all. And absolutely not if she hurt herself. Well he hoped she knew what she was doing.

“With Anger it is much like Alcohol. Dosage is important.” To say the truth he did not enjoy Anger, but had the pleasure of meeting it far to often. Better Anger then fear. Fear and Remorse were feelings with which a person could incapacitate oneself easily. He was the best example for that. Images they were that came to mind when thinking about Anger. Simple Alleyways in darkness. Eyes that looked into emptiness like one would look into your own living room. Welcoming, greeting. His Anger was not of the raging kind, the kind that would burn away at your mind and body until there was nothing there any more. It was more vicious then any flame could ever be. And that was one of the few things that could still scare him.

“I understand perfectly well. You cant be everywhere at once. And thank you for the date. It wont stick in my mind though. It never does.” Sadly dates and times were lost to him. Looking back there were events and events after another in differing degrees of clarity, but which one came before or after the other was impossible to tell. The only things that he could keep track of were his childhood memories. Because he knew people never shrank. But otherwise he could have sworn that that day he first came near the stove was after he got into high school. Flashes of those images came back to him. A woman wearing a white cross. The memory of Blood and screaming. Had it been a red cross? Blood red? And there it was again with her words about the calendar. The extreme cold that threatened to crush him, wash him away. The police had taken the black book. The officer had even smiled at finding it, even had shown him the courtesy of skimming through it right before his eyes. The things he read had made him smile. The things he had found. They were in German, so no immediate danger. They were kept in German, so they were in all possibility interesting enough for translation. Cold. His life had been taken away into an evidence bag, zipped up like some piece of junk for storage. Dooming pages lingering over his head. Freezing cold, made its way into his eyes and words.

“I do keep notes of things.... Those are with the police right now.... I will have to get them back....”

The have to was pronounced like a must. And spoken with an intent that was a promise. But it was not nearly as loud as the words before. The pauses were more distinct, longer. Clatter. The wind was calming on his cheeks. He had every intent of getting this book back no matter the cost. He would even break into a police station for that, for without it he was lost in his own memory like the literal needle in the haystack. His kneeling position in front of the metal bars had not changed a bit during the last minutes. He felt the dull pulsing of his knees protesting against the unusual strain competing with a sore feeling in the muscles of his arms. His hands were grabbing the bars, as if they needed the support. He did need it. His vision was getting blurry at the edges from the shocking. A little while more and he would not be able to conceal it any longer. Moment of thought. Clatter. Breeze. Had there just been a breeze in here? His eyes lit up with hope as he began straightening himself up.

“Change is sometimes enjoyable for me. It is stagnation I find difficult to escape.” It would be to anyone who could make a second last a lifetime. Who made others feel the same way. Who wanted stability and all he got was things falling to dust beneath his very fingers. The fingers his eyes had just dropped on again, looking at the pale flesh. Change was enjoyable sometimes, yes. But by far not always. He looked up, just to find a misty figure standing in the hallway. This time his eyes sparkled as the last bits of cold were blown away.

“Feel yourself at home. Well maybe not at home, but you are welcome to enter.”

Her friendly smile did melt away some of the ice in his stare. Now it was just a sunny winter day hidden plainly in their gray just as the sky was hiding its beauty again and the lights faded into a gloom that hugged the trees and skyscrapers, obscuring the clouds that now only were lighted by the city below. There even seemed to be a smile twitching at his lips. But it never showed, while he kept his hands busy with dusting off his clothes ignoring the offered hand. This girly was some special one to just bump into him and then smile like that. She could have... No lets not go there. Not even in thought, as those are dangerous ways to walk down.

“I am Mr. Stein.”

He deliberately put the distance between them. It was not only a verbal one, but the hands, that had once been dusting himself off, had finished a movement and were now folded across his chest. He was disapproving of her behavior and it was very obvious. Maybe he would tell her his first name later. But only on his conditions and when he deemed the time to be right. Now the thin line in his face finally opened to show his teeth.

“You should be more careful or one day you might hurt yourself.”

The concern in his voice sounded almost fatherly, which might have been just a little off considering the situation. He didn't care. And he was not fatherly. He just wanted the girl to find her way home without running into people that would really hurt her. Uhm, thats not fatherly, is it? The that dragged behind his last words was uneasy as the last rays of sun had vanished a minute ago. Night had claimed the park. It was rapidly starting to get cold so a slight shudder made its way up his shoulders.

"Why dont you walk with me for a while?"

He turned around without looking at her twice. Everything he did said just one thing. I know you will.

Finally stopping to move around at the metal doors of his cell and settling into a relaxed but the sound of his steps lingered on between the concrete walls. Listening to the friendly voice was relaxing in ways not anticipated. He was actually feeling a bit comfortable. Seeing the floor and the mattress he had to revise that statement: It was not comfortable but rather comforted. The voice had notes of innocent goodness to it he had not heard in a long time. Maybe even 10 years. How can she touch me like that with just speaking? She is playing me like an instrument without noticing. Luckily his train of thought was stopped there by the little armband he still wore. It seemed the shocks were getting stronger or was it just his own sensations playing tricks on him? After a sharp hiss he started breathing heavily. This was going to be not being thankful to the police for their accommodation, but he had to get rid of these things around his wrists. He glared at them with intent. As if that would do any good.

“Who the §%$# designed these vile cuffs?”

Had he just said that out loud? Had he just sworn out loud? Check..... Echo..... Yes. Ops.
Martin you need to hold your senses and actions together. You. Do. Not. Swear. The period at the end of each word was a long one, until... Ouch. “§$%&(“
The strong echo of foreign words was something that even startled him. Luckily Vega could not speak German otherwise he might have blushed for saying something like that in public. Especially to female company. The peace had just been shattered and he knew it, but that did not stop him from starting rebuilding it.

“I have to apologize. This electrocuting is rather... unnerving.”

Unnerving and in fact painful, thank you NYPD. Thank you very much. Holding tight onto the metal bars in front of his face for support and banishing the sound of strain from his voice he continued on with their little talk as if there had nothing happened. There was nothing happening his tone said. Everything is alright. There even entered the tone of his much younger self into his voice, of the boy she had awakened with her words deep inside him. Forgoing her first remark about higher powers – If there really were such things they would have shown themselves by now to stop the senseless blasting apart of heads and bodies that mankind was so great at accomplishing. Of course some viewed mutants, homo superior that is, as the ones ready to fulfill that role. Foolish notions. Higher powers. Pff-

“You certainly may ask.” I will try to answer you. At least as much as I can. “I was so furious with you, that I would have kicked your bottom if you went any farther. The best thing ever to happen on this whole night.” He basically laughed the words at her, his body racking with silent laughter. Maybe some pain was also involved. Was he making sense? He was glad that she had made him angry? Yes he was. “Anger can be used much like a tool to focus yourself in dangerous situations.” And he had been angry with her, but much more with the officer that had so rudely interrupted them. He hoped, that he had at least an ache from his throw. Did I just think that? I need to calm down. “I really don't look like much of a mister.” At least that was how he thought of himself. He did not even take note of the fact that he was calmly sitting on the ground of a prison cell, talking to a stranger like an old friend and was still maintaining an aura of dignity that could be passed off as mistersome.

Listening to her words he finally came to remember, where he had heard the name Vega before. It made him laugh out loud and heartily. A strange sound that resonated trough the cells, so much unlike anything they normally got to hear.

“I was at the opening of that bookstore, only that I cant remember correctly when it was. Seems like years.” The laugh changed into a more uneasy tone. “I may be a time manipulator but I always mix up dates and times.” That he had not confessed to anyone in a long time. Why was he feeling so comfortable again? “Is was – is- a nice place.”

It did seem more like a decade, for all the memory of that event was clouded with others that naturally overlapped it. Such a stack of memory and emotion on it was normally not getting fuzzy like this, almost intangible even for himself, until much time had passed. It was a picture that had been painted over a few dozen times. Not really tangible, but somehow still there.

“Careful Vega, I may just do go to your Mansion as the purpose of my moving here was to find change and movement again. Its not always easy...” With his last remark he trailed off into silence. He had not fled Germany because he could not stand it any more to be around the same sights as every year, day, second of his life. That had not been the reason. Well maybe part.