Inked [1x1]

Otto crossed his arms, his hands hidden away so that the shaking wasn't as noticeable. From the way that he was looking around, to anyone that didn't know the circumstances, it just looked like he was anxious about a blank being found. His eyes followed Preston's gesture to the van, and cringed when the officers emerged, holding someone Otto barely recognised. What'd they done to her?

His hands clenched into fists and released again and again. The things he'd do if he had the guts.

The one thing he could do was be there. When their eyes met, he didn't look away. He couldn't do much to reassure her without being caught. He hoped that the rapid blinking to keep his eyes clear was enough to show that he saw her.
 
Laila was caught up with mixed emotions when Otto caught her eyes. She was glad to see a friendly face (she'd told her family not to come, not to be associated with her), but she hated that he would see this.

Preston continued with his speech, "Here with us, we have a friend of the traitor's. Otto Pittman." His eyes fell on the young tattoo artist, smiling. "One of our own, fooled by her deceit. Come, Mr. Pittman. You have been betrayed most of all so it is you who should get to do the honors of marking this Blank."

One hand reached out for the supplies but stopped and looked down at Otto, "Unless, you can't..." Perhaps he knew that Otto knew, and perhaps he knew that Otto had been helping blanks as well as keeping Laila's secret. It was a test or a punishment, but either way there was little room for refusal with the encouragement echoing from the rest of the gathered audience."
 
Otto didn't move his eyes away from Laila's, until he heard his name. His neck snapped around like it'd been forced, and he met the mayor's eyes. There was a little bit of sympathy there, but there was something more to them. A little bit of malice, or maybe spite. An evil part.

The blood drained out of his face, turning him pale. He thought he was going to faint, and it was a miracle he didn't. The mayor wanted him to mark Laila? No, no, he couldn't. There was government inkers to do this. He felt a hand on his back lightly push him forwards. Angelo. He looked...eager? "Go on, Otto," he said with a smile. Was this...an achievement?

The same hand pushed him again, and this set Otto walking. The crowd parted for him. He was slow, and his eyes were pinned on Laila's, and though he was desperate to keep his face as blank as her body, his eyes were wet and his lip trembled. He didn't meet a single pair of the eyes that were on him.

He quietly climbed onto the raised platform. It creaked under his weight, but the sound was lost under the applause. Why were they clapping?

He didn't meet Preston's eyes, and quietly took the inker's seat. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I don't know what I can do." For a sacred moment, the applause would conceal their conversation.
 
Laila tore her eyes away from Otto's to stare frantically at their mayor. This was the first break in her stoic expression since her conversation with Otto on the phone the day before. He was going to have to ink her? But... weren't there people specifically dedicated to inking blanks? For some odd reason the thought crossed her mind that he might not even know how to do the symbol.

For a moment she wanted to laugh.

Preston beamed at Otto as he approached the podium, moving up to where Laila was being forced to sit.

A part of Laila wanted Otto to stand up for her, to refuse to for the inking. A larger part of her just wanted him safe. She was already in trouble, there was no point to him being punished as well. The rest of her just wanted to scream.

"It's not your fault." She whispered back, tears pricking at her eyes. "Better you than some stranger, right?" She offered, taking solace in this information as an officer approached her to move her hair out of the way.
 
There was something that might have been a chuckle out of Otto. Before he turned away to prepare, he whispered: "it's not as sore as you think it's going to be." It was a bit of a lie, but he was going to make it as painless as possible. He wasn't going to push on her, or move the needle too fast. Maybe it was a good thing it was him marking her.

The crowd spoke amongst themselves while Otto got ready. He was glad that the eyes were off of them, just for a moment. He could clear his head. When he turned back, he had the gun whirring in his hand. "Please don't cry," he whispered while disinfecting the skin. "As soon as they let you go, we'll go for dinner someplace. Wherever you want. And I'll pay."

Before the crowd could quieten down, Otto started to ink. There was a tiny bubble of satisfaction in him at this, that he could prevent them from seeing something that they were all so desperate to see. His touch was gentle and remarkably light, but the pain of the needle going in and out was incessant. Laila might've heard him holding back his sobs, if the crowd would stop jeering.

When he was finished, he pulled away fast and wiped at the skin with his sleeve instead of a cloth. "It's done, it's done," he panted. Normally, he'd have two mirror to pull up and show her the mark, but he wasn't going to force her to look at it. If he could, he'd make it so that she never saw it. The crow was sprawled across the back of her neck, bleak wings spread and menacing beak pointed straight up. While he was bandaging it up, a firm hand landed on his shoulder.

He looked up to see a police officer standing over him. "It's finished," he breathed.
"You are to do her name, age, and family tree, also," the officer said matter-of-factly.
Otto's face fell. He stuttered for a moment, random sounds spluttering out of his mouth. "N-no, I..."
 
Laila had seen other people get tattoos before and it had looked painful, it had seemed painful. Still, she found that she was grateful for Otto. At least he would not be cruel, he would not use more force than necessary. As she heard the whirring of the needle, she'd grit her teeth preparing for the pain. She'd forgotten that someone once told her the neck is one of the most painful places for a tattoo.

She wondered if she'd be able to live her life after this. What became of blanks after they were marked? Would she be harassed walking down the street? Would Otto be harassed for being seen with her after it being made public to him that she is a blank.

... Would he want to go through that torment for her? "Sure," she agreed to his proposition of dinner, as if it might actually happen.

She would not cry out, however. The writer refused to give them what they sought and so she grit her teeth harder, but she could not keep the water from spilling out of her eyes. The entire time that Otto inked her, she would not make a sound. She did not meet anyone's eyes but she did see Erik standing at the back of the crowd, grinning maliciously. Perhaps it should have been him that she was praying never showed up.

When it was over, she breathed a sigh of relief and started to sit up, only to hear the words of the officer. "W-what?"
 
"Are you sure, I mean-"
"We can't have a blank going around half-marked," the officer interrupted. "Just hurry up already." The officer gave Otto enough of a shove that he almost hit into Laila, and then walked away to the edge of the stage, to the mayor's side. Preston Hall had an apathetic look in his eyes, but in the moment it was more cruel.

Otto breathed out shakily. He quickly snapped his gaze away from the mayor and back to Laila. "What do you want done first?" He asked, voice shaky. He wiped at his bloodshot eyes with his sleeve. "The tree will take the longest. I'll need to know the names of everyone in your family as well, parents, siblings, grandparents," he trailed off with a sigh. "And you'll need to take your shirt off, or roll it up," he muttered with a glance into the crowd. "The age tallies will be the quickest."
 
Laila let out a quiet sob.

It was bad enough that she was forced to wear that mark on the back of her neck, that her shame and humiliation had been so public and harsh, but now they wanted to extend it. Never before had she heard of a blank being forced to bear more tattoos. "What's the point?" She spat at the officer, "I'm already marked. The beginning and end of my story is. Right. Here." She gestured to the back of her neck.

But it didn't matter, they wouldn't listen. He just... walked away.

She looked up, her own watery eyes meeting Otto's and she reached a hand to his cheek, letting it drop before she could touch him. Without a word, she whipped off her shirt and turned her back to him, clutching the material to her chest. "They'll grow bored." She muttered.

She hoped.
 
Otto was stunned at Laila's quick movements, but he couldn't really say that he was surprised. She was brave, braver than he'd ever be. He'd do the same as he did before; disinfecting the skin, trying his best to ignore the jeering of the crowd. He started off with her name: Laila Bellacote written in cursive in the middle. From there, he expanded. The only times he spoke were to ask the names of family members. He took frequent 'breaks'; periods of ten seconds or so where he'd break away to let Laila recover. Then, he'd have to go back at it, not giving the crowd enough time to get too antsy.

It seemed that Laila was right; by the time Otto was finished with the family tree, not only had the jeering entirely died off and given way to a quiet conversation between the crowd, but it seemed that many people had even left. It took further time to bandage the tree, then he turned to Laila again. "What now?" He asked gently, resting his gloved hand on her arm.
 
Laila felt broken inside, but as she leaned against the chair, face turned to the crowd, she made eye contact with every single jeering member. Few, she noticed, were able to meet her eyes.

When it was done she let out a breath. That was the biggest one, the hardest one. She offered him her arm, limp and tired. "Age," she croaked, her voice dry and a little raspy from holding quiet so long and she desperately needed a drink of water. "Just get it over with," She pleaded.
 
Otto met Laila's eyes. Had the police even been giving her the basic things while they had her? He pressed his lips into a stern line and nodded. "I will," he said quietly.

The same thing again, though this time lot quicker. Running horizontally down the length of her left arm there were now four small sets of tallies, and one half-finished set. He quickly bandaged them, then extended his hand for her right arm. "It's just your name now. Then it's all over."

Name marks were supposed to be the most important. Detailed, beautiful things that let everyone know you were proud of your name, your heritage, your family. But he knew that Laila didn't care.IT was quick, it was maybe a little bit sloppy, but it was over. He bandaged the name. "When they let you out, come to my apartment." He glanced into the crowd. "I don't know if they will, but people will probably find out where you live, and..." he trailed off. "I'll get the cats," he offered with a slight smile that didn't reach his eyes.
 
She didn't want it, and she most certainly didn't care how it looked. A part of her was tempted to go around with it covered up with make up so she would appear to be a blank, but that was just a reversal of who she was previously. Laila sighed, avoiding looking at the ink being placed on her arms until they were bandaged up. Then she pulled her shirt over her head and offered Otto a small smile. "Please do pick them up." She needed to know that they were taken care of.

"I'll... I'll see you soon." She worried, though, that going to his home would put him at much of a risk as she was going to be. Before they could even complete their goodbye, the officers were back, roughly cuffing her wrists and escorting her away. Before he could leave, Otto would be approached by Preston.
 
Otto gave Laila's arm a fond squeeze before the police took her away. He watched her go, and once she was gone didn't bother to put anything away. The most he did was take his gloves off and leave them on the cart. Someone else could deal with that. He was just about to escape, to go pick up the cats then head home, but the shadow of the mayor hovered over him.

He stood up. He was just about the same height as Preston, maybe a little smaller. "Yes?" He said through grit teeth.
 
Preston appraised Otto for a long moment, assessing before finally speaking. "I have a dedicated team of people who investigate these kinds of things." He waved his hand in the general direction that Laila was being taken to. "It's believed that you were not surprised today by your friend's blank status and... well, you still seem very fond of her for someone who has been lied to and about such a thing." He cocked his head to the side, always studying Otto. "You did the right thing today, by inking her. She is as cleansed of her sins as a blank can be. If you plan on sticking around her, though, I would recommend ensuring that she get some more ink done. I wouldn't want anyone thinking she's not... committed to her new life."
 
Otto took a step back, putting some space between him and the mayor. He didn't look away from Preston's eyes, jaw tightly set. Frankly, Otto didn't want to hear what he had to say, but he listened anyways, his eyes set in a glare. When the mayor was finished, he took a deep breath. He clenched and unclenched his fists as if he was about to lash out. He wished he could, but that was a one way ticket to jail. "No, thank you," he said flatly. He stepped around the mayor, keeping his head dipped as he rushed off the stage. He forgot about his drive home, instead speed walking into a narrow street in an attempt to avoid the prying eyes of the townspeople.

He got to his own car and headed to Laila's apartment block. He was expecting to have to go ask for a key, but when he tried the knob the door moved without a fuss. Of course. Officers didn't have any reason to care about a blank's property. Inside he found Nolan and Sam. They seemed pretty excited to see him, but with how long they'd been left alone that wasn't really surprising. Their food and water bowls were empty, so he let them eat and drink before taking them out to his car. He sat them in the front seat before going back inside to pick up a few necessities. He found Laila's key and used it to lock the door behind him. He drove home with the cat food and some toys in the back, and had to keep a constant eye on the two felines that they didn't jump back and tear into it.

When he arrived home, he took the cats in and let them loose to explore. As long as nothing got broken, he didn't really care. He laid down on the couch and stared at the ceiling. He didn't know when they'd let Laila go, but he would be awake for when she arrived.
 
The kitties were very excited for someone to be there and more importantly for someone to feed them. Nolan meowed and cried the entire car ride, but Sam seemed to enjoy it. Once inside, they started wrestling and playing with each other, never really caring that they weren't home.

It would be a few hours before there was a timid knock at Otto's door. "It's me," Came Laila's voice from the other side and instantly both cats were meowing incessantly at the door, crying for their mom.
 
At the knock, Otto wasn't bothered. There'd been multiple visitors, all of whom had been friends that had come to celebrate or come to give their condolence about his 'betrayal'. He'd asked politely for them all to leave. It was only when he heard her voice that he got up, rushing to the door. His sweating fingers slipped around the key as he tried to unlock the door, and when he finally managed to get the door he threw it open so hard it almost caught one of the cats. His eyes fell on Laila, and quickly welled up. "Are you alright?" He asked quietly.
 
She was dressed in her own clothes now, shoes neatly tied and she'd been able to at least wash her face, though she felt she was in desperate need of a shower. "Hey," She offered Otto a watery smile and stepped inside before either of the cats could take off outside. Instead, they just wound themselves around her legs and she threw her arms around her boyfriend's neck, burying her face into his shoulder. "Much better," she promised, though alright she was not.
 
Otto hugged Laila's tightly, resting his chin on the top of her head. "The worst is over now," he whispered. He used his thumb to wipe away his tears, blinking to try and get them to recede. He slowly pulled away, feeling the cats jealousy by their paws trampling over his feet. "They missed you," he said softly, nodding toward the pets.
 
She managed a chuckle, bending to give the cats some love. "They missed someone who feeds them," she joked but even as she moved to sit on the couch, practically collapsing onto it. "You know, you would think I'd be so tired and drained that I wouldn't have the inclination, but I'm starving."
 
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