Marked [EverlyxSterling]

[Ethys]

It felt as though Mikel had reached inside her and grasped part of her soul, pulling it out to examine before starting to speak about what it had to say. She could hear her own feelings and thoughts echoed by his lips as he pointed out the hypocrisy and selifishness. He understood. That much was blindingly obvious. All of a sudden she realized that she didn't know if he was Marked or not. Surely such a public figure must be, but she wasn't sure. Even now it seemed too personal to ask, and she didn't want the question being turned around on her. She had found somebody here who could be a friend, but she didn't want to push it. Not now. Perhaps someday she would tell him.

"I do not mind," she murmured quietly. She stood up and put her trash from lunch in the garbage, then turned back to him. He was paying attention to the cat. She half smiled and opened up the bag that hung from her shoulder, reaching in and pulling out the small painting she had brought along. It was only a 5"x7" canvas, about half the size of the one she had donated to the gallery. She set it down in front of him and tilted her head.

"For you, to make your day better," she said, giving him a soft smile before turning and leaving him there as she headed downstairs to go home.

 

[Sterling]

Mikel watched Kassi spin and descend down the stairs. He heard her weight announce each step, padding in sequence down and down until all was quiet. The round table under his hands felt hard, and Mikel's eyes scanned the details of the office. He glossed over all the items he knew were already there: the bookcase, the standing closet filled with rolls of drawings, the unframed portrait of himself and his sister, Elliana, and the computer, pulsing steadily with a monotonic hum. Mikel scanned everywhere but one place. His eyes avoided the painting in his hands. He can't believe he hasn't looked upon it yet. He pondered in self-deceit what he could possibly be afraid of finding upon the 5"x7" canvas.

Mikel closed his eyes and prepared himself for a rush, of taking in the painting in its entirety in one moment. He was embarrassed to delay more than a few seconds, then he opened them. The mundane details of his office faded from his perception at the speed of light, and the life of Kassi's soul became his new world. The dazzling array of colors assaulted his eyes the way nutrients assault hunger. The synapses in his brain fired ecstatically, powerfully, as if taken by a new, unfamiliar energy. The impulse threatened to overwhelm him, and the sides of the canvas stretched from Mikel hanging on for daer life. He wasn't looking at a painting, he was communing with something divine, and the healing experience gripped him like a winding mountain road at high-speed. Mikel's breaths came forced and the edges of his eyes moistened, but he pressed on and refused to let go. After Mikel's eyes grew more accustomed to the matrix of color, his vision began to analyze the content of the painting itself. It was a partial street scene, showing a man and woman, lit by a line of post lamps in the background. The pair were not in contact, but Mikel gaze zeroed onto the railing, and he noticed their hands were tantalizingly close. The visual movement of the objects and color within the painting rendered the sidewalk to the right open; Mikel's loneliness ushered in the feeling this void was meant to be filled, a life together, a future for the two lovers.

Ping.

Mikel awoke from his trance, and glanced at the source of the notification. He observed the over-sized, digital clock on his computer screen and realized his musings had spanned half an hour. There was uncomfortable silence then; not even the whisper of guests solemnly milling about the Gallery could be heard from below. For someone who sought mountaintops for self-imposed isolation, Mikel began, at the moment, to loath the notion of being alone. Mikel assumed Kassi had left the Gallery, and he privately mourned her absence. Mikel grew concerned and harried then, for he acknowledged that Kassi imparted an effect that destabilized him in the best possible way. What was happening to him? How was she doing this? He meant what he said about Markings, but he's only discussed such things with trusted, like-minded confidants, such as Hans. Mikel grew more apprehensive when he realized he'd viscerally spouted blasphemy to a near stranger. That was a dangerous line Mikel had just crossed, and he tried to calm his mind to insert an edict to never mention it again.

Mikel rose from the table and placed the brilliant painting next to his computer monitor. Mew, Gün agreed. The feline was perched on the table end, alternatively looking between Kassi's painting and Mikel. Mikel ran his fingers through his thick brown hair, then pulled his chair to the desk and sat. He opened a drawer and, after fishing around, produced a 3"x4" photo of himself and Hans. They are boys in the picture, each with one arm around the other. They look happy, which brought a grin to Mikel's grim mood. It was taken at Academy, before Hans revolted and left to pursue his life - a life according to his own rules. Hans' independence was his defining trait. As Mikel recollected the courageous life of this friend, Hans Arden, he made a fateful decision.

He knew what he had to do. Mikel turned off his messaging program and phone, and began to type.

 

[Ethys]

Kassi walked through the empty gallery, glancing around at the walls one last time before nodding to herself and leaving to head home. As she walked down the sidewalk, she tried to piece together how she felt. On one hand, she was devastated by what she had learned about Hans passing. He had been a voice for all of them even though he didn't have to be. That sort of kindness was so rare and had given her hope, yet now it was gone. Worse, he was murdered. She knew it was probably due to his beliefs. The world was getting more violent toward the Unmarked and she was starting to get even more nervous than usual. But, sorrow and nervousness weren't all that was on her mind. She was also carefully balancing a curiosity from what she had seen in the gallery, and an odd sort of happiness that came from Mikel. He didn't think the Unmarked were a nuisance. If anything, he found the markings a nuisance. It still stunned her to think about that.

She turned into her building and paused by the door, deciding to check her mail. It was a weekly ritual - normally nothing more than cleaning out whatever junk was sent from stores advertising various sales. She reached in the dark box and felt papers. More junk. She sighed and pulled it out. Sales flier.. sales flier.. political campaign ad? No, wait. She tilted her head, scanning the paper with a frown. Help us cleanse the city! Sign the petition now and protect your family! She felt sick. They wanted to outlaw Unmarked in the city limits. She turned to throw it all away, then paused as she saw an envelope from her parents. Whoa. That was odd. It was addressed to Kassandra instead of Kassi, which warned her that it was likely not a pleasant how-are-you-doing sort of letter. She threw the rest away, holding the envelope close as she got in the elevator.

Once she was in her apartment, she set her bag aside and slowly opened the envelope. Just one piece of paper. She scanned it quickly, worried that something had happened to her brother Daniel. It took rereading the letter three times for things to really start sinking in. Danger to society.. unwanted.. no longer going to support you.. lucky we haven't reported you.. don't come back.. She stared at the paper, her eyes caught on the last line. We don't have a daughter.

That was it.

No love, no signatures. It was her mother's handwriting, but she felt as if all three of them had just taken turns kicking her in the stomach. She didn't have a family anymore, that was it. There was a growing ache in her chest, one that demanded to be felt, yet her mind was becoming numb as she tried to comprehend it all. She slowly set the letter on her counter, then went over to her stool. These feelings had to get out somehow. She had to paint.

There are people out there who envy artists. They often comment on how nice it is to have such a beautiful way to express yourself, and how much nicer it is than words. People didn't seem to realize the knife cut both ways. If somebody is unable to communicate with words and have no other outlet than their art, what happens when they find themselves unable to create? What happens when their muse vanishes, or if they are too distraught to paint? That was what was happening to Kassi. She sat, then stood, pacing. Though she tried over and over again, her painting was nothing but an array of lines that seemed a hectic mess. She finally gave up, taking all of her paintings and spreading them through her apartment like a gallery so that she could walk around and see them all, looking for inspiration.

Three hours later, she was surrounded by paintings and could still do nothing.

 

[Sterling]

With a quick flair, Kate Miller placed the last signature on the form notes she prepared from the previous session. There, she thought, done at last. Her office consisted of two rooms - an true office with a computer and filing cabinets, and a warm, inviting room with sofas near lamps that shone soft light. Normal professionals would perform office duties in their office half rather than the therapy room. That just made sense. But, Kate had her own reasons for doing what she did. The bulk of the work, the writing and documenting of patient visits, the research, analysis, and eventual recommendations, were all part of the office life. Kate had completed those tasks long ago. She blazed through her responsibilities with cutting efficiency, and left no error to be found in any of her work. Similarly, her office was nothing short of immaculate. Every paper was correctly filed, every pen and pencil had a thoughtful home, and dust never accumulated. Some might have judged her office suite as sterile, but Kate felt it was simply together and organized. Kate did not need to hunt around her office for anything. Everything had a place.

At the moment, however, Kate was sitting in the therapy room and reclined in a soft, red velvet chair. The paper she just signed was on her lap, and the desire to file it was almost unbearable. But, she resisted and closed her eyes. She felt tired, though she chided herself for not having a reason. Patients used to flood through her doors, and she enjoyed a rising popularity within the therapy community. That was before the accident. Afterward, the patients filtered in less and less, until the majority of patients were walk-ins without any references. The anonymity slowly chewed at her reserves, both financial and emotional. She tried desperately to put on a brave face, but the effects were too much sometimes. Like today ...

Kate reached down into her black bag and brought up a picture frame. She held the image before her and gazed longingly into the man's eyes. This was her ritual, and was how Kate concluded most of her days, creating a moment of reflection with the man she lost. Normally, Kate kept the conversations in her head, even when alone. She needed to use her voice today. "Oh, Stephen," she said wistfully. "Today was horrible. I'm seeing patients that I'd turn away in a heart beat just a few years ago. That young man, Boddi, was a borderline psychopath. He needed a psychiatrist, ..." Kate wiped a tear with a half-emptied box of tissues. "And a straight-jacket. Luckily, nothing happened ... today at least." An observer might have thought Kate was blaming her deceased husband for her current woes. But, that was not the case. She routinely shared everything with the one man who completely understood and accepted her. Her heart was eternally bound to the tall, handsome man with blonde hair. "I miss you so much ... still," Kate said, openly weeping. She hugged the portrait tenderly with both arms.

After a few minutes, she collected herself and returned Stephen's portrait to her bag and began to close her shop for the day. Boddi was more than she could handle, and she wanted to quit while she was ahead. She made certain to wear a long-coat while venturing outside, especially to cover the faded Markings on her left shoulder. Her hand grasped a large steel key that locked the door once she closed it tightly. The egress hallway was lined with cracked marble tiles on the floor, walls and ceiling. Kate hugged the black bag to her side as her low heels clicked with dull precision. She walked out of the building entrance and into the sunlight, and then down the street to her apartment. She passed Tam's Grocery and decided to stop in; she really needed to interact with someone right now ... anyone. Tam was no where to be seen, but Henny was behind the counter. He greeted Kate cheerfully.

"Hi, Katie. How's things?" Henny was an adorable, older man with a single ear-ring. He wore round glasses that rested above a merry disposition.

"Hello, Hen. I'm alright, just ... you know. One of those days."

Henny's face slackened, and he rounded the corner to embrace Kate with a monstrous hug. The two stood in silence, embracing one another. After some minutes, Tam arrived at the register to greet regular customers who'd learned to weave around Kate on days like today. Henny paid them no mind. After some time, Kate pushed back slowly. "Thanks, Dear," she said kindly. She swiped a stray hair from her face and seemed like her old self. "So, Hen ... how can I ever thank you?"

Henny screwed his brows in the odd and mischievous manner he was known for. "Just pass it on ... why don't you pay a visit to Kassi? She ran inta someone earlier today and BOY did she look like a mess."

The idea of seeing Kassi pleased Kate. She often wanted an excuse to walk up the extra flight and chat. Except, Kassi was not the chatty type. In fact, she was down-right squirrely. But, she carried herself with a genuine kindness that attracted Kate. Kassi was one of the few people who did not recoil or cross the street when she approached. "I'll do just that. Thanks, Hen."

Henny leaned up and planted a wet kiss on Kate's cheek, which made the therapist giggle with laughter. "You're welcome Darlin' ... anytime!"

Kate bypassed her landing and went straight to the 7th Floor. She walked as quietly as possible, not really knowing why she was creeping up on Kassi. Before Kate was a door with the number "732". She lifted her fist and rapt her knuckles softly on the door.

Knock, knock, knock.

 

[Ethys]

Kassi slowly blinked as she heard a knocking. The sound barely penetrated her thoughts. She was too wrapped up in her misery to really notice what it was at first. Instead of moving, she continued gazing at the ceiling. When she had realized she could not create anything and had to suffer with her pent-up thoughts and emotions, she had sprawled out on the floor and decided to just suffer through it. She felt.. numb. It was as though she had died inside because she was so overwhelmed by everything that she couldn't get out. She didn't want to budge, but after several seconds of silence following the knocking, she sat up. Her desire for companionship outweighed her desire to do nothing else.

So, she finally got up and trudged her way to the door, opening it without peeking out the peekhole. It took her a moment and a few blinks for the light of recognition to come to her eyes. Kate. Her neighbor downstairs. Kate was always nice to her.

"Kate," she said, tilting her head a fraction. "Come in," she invited, stepping back slightly.

It was the first time she had ever invited anybody in to her apartment, let alone Kate, but her desperation for a distraction was taking over her thought process. It wasn't just a want for a friend, it was a suffocating need to get her mind on something else. She didn't realize at that moment how odd the request might seem, or how she may have startled Kate. Her hair was a tangled mess thanks to laying on the floor and all of the times she had run her hands through it in a frustrated gesture. She was pale, her eyes glazed because she was simply disconnected from reality.

Her apartment was a whole different story.

Paintings were everywhere. If there was a space, there was a painting. Dozens were on the floor leaning against walls, some overlapping others. There were several standing up or stacked on the kitchen counters, leaving only the space where the letter was laying. Even the windowsills were stacked with paintings. The only safe room was the dark room because she hadn't wanted to ruin any film. It was like some sort of twisted gallery. The only unfinished painting besides the blank canvases that were in a massive stack on the floor, was the one she had wrecked upon arriving home.

 

[Sterling]

Name: Katelynn (Kate) Miller

Age: 33

Gender: Female

Occupation: Therapist

Marked: Yes

Likes: Good conversation, Jogging, Cooking

Dislikes: Clutter, Grime, Raisins, Seeing others in distress

Personality: Katelynn, called Kate, carries herself gladly with a chipper, upbeat personality. She's very kind, and enjoys engaging in long conversations about virtually any topic … even ones she knows nothing about. Kate has been marked, and found her soul mate (Stephen) seven years ago – until the fateful day when Stephen was killed in a car accident. Kate's world crumbled, her pain being all the more intense having felt her spiritual connection broken. As a result, her marking has faded slightly. She carries Stephen's death bravely in a world that pities her, and while not the victim of outright discrimination, Kate feels invisible to society. A therapist by training, she operates her practice out of an office across the street. She has taken to visiting Kassi often, joyful to feel a connection not laced with judgement. She's eager to learn more about her enigmatic artist friend, but respects her privacy akin to a patient-client privilege.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
​

"Um, Hi Kassi!" Kate offered a friendly smile. She had rehearsed moments like this often in recent months. What else was there to do? It served the purpose of distraction, bringing her mind from the brink of despair. In all her imagined scenarios, the one goal she dreamt was for Kassi to grant her a fleeting glimpse of her apartment. Typically, Kassi stood in the doorway with crossed arms, affording Kate only discretionary peeks into Kassi's private world. This day, however, was completely different. Kassi stepped back and immediately offered Kate entrance into the room. At first, Kate was speechless at the turn of events. She tried to control her excitement, and reminded herself to behave. Kate had a habit of bringing her professional sensibilities into her personal interactions. Her previous friends jokingly asked if they should write her a check for her time after an hour-long conversation about their current problems. Kate laughed at the jest, but privately stung. It was true that Kate tended to bring a social work aspect to the people in her life, but the impulse came from her deep empathy. She had an abundance of love that transcended the fragile boundaries between work and home.

Kate held her breath, and took carefully placed steps forward. The location of each foot was strategic and felt under scrutiny by the young woman. Kate wanted to be conscientious about how far she entered Kassi's realm. Entering too far, too quickly might send a message of presumption she did not intend. Frankly, she didn't want to screw this up. Kassi was a nice person, who Kate genuinely wanted to get to know more. The more practical reason was the lack of floor area upon which to tread, and the appalling mess of Kassi's home. The sight of the paintings, however, tore Kate away from her dislike of clutter. Kate felt as if she had entered a kaleidoscopic dream world, and the sheer delight of living rushed upon Kate with unabated intensity.

After some second in wonderment, Kate found her voice. "I was ... just on my way home and thought I'd ... stop up and say hello. Kassi, this is ... ?" She turned to Kassi, asking, "Did you make all these? They're BEAUTIFUL!"

 

[Ethys]

"What? Oh.. yes.. thank you," Kassi managed, half paying attention. She closed the door once Kate was inside, though she didn't bother locking it now that she had a guest. A guest. That was new. She honestly wasn't sure how to treat somebody in her apartment, but she didn't care. Somebody was here with her and gave her something to think about. She saw the letter still laying on the counter and picked it up, tucking it into her pocket. It would not do to have Kate seeing that. The letter made it all too obvious that she was Unmarked, and she was worried it would drive her somewhat-friend away.

She watched Kate absently, noticing how the woman was looking all around. Oh. She had nearly forgotten the paintings were everywhere. It seemed a mess, she realized, but she could not make herself care. She looked around, wondering what she was supposed to do or say. This was awkward, but she refused to give up because she wanted something to numb the pain in her chest.

"How was your day..?"

 

[Sterling]

Kate couldn't help herself. She thought Kassi's question came in a doleful tone, and noticed a general apathy in her disposition. She so wished she knew Kassi better, and could better know if there was something bothering her or if this mood was part of her personality. Kate lowered her bag from her side, grasping the thin handles with both hands so the bag hung in front of her. She was in denial at her shock upon seeing the state of Kassi's apartment, and every inch of her wanted to begin ordering the chaos around her. She closed her eyes, and breathed deeply. Stephen had warned her about that ... about taking control of what others value for your own comfort. Kassi's apartment was as Kassi liked it, and Kate made a decision to accept it.

Kate turned and gently placed her bag on the floor, then removed her low heels. She spread her feet and curled her toes in relief. "Ah, that's better. Today was ... interesting, I must say. I had a real wacko come in around noon ... he wanted advice, and needed to be tranquilized. I stopped by Tam's on my way here ... they told me you had a run-in with someone in their store?"

Kate beings to lower her rear onto a couch, then stops and jerks upright. "Excuse me ... may I?"

 

[Ethys]

A run-in? Kassi blinked and tried to recall what Kate had been talking about. It was honestly quite hard to follow the flow of conversation when she was so distracted by everything else, but she was doing her best. What had happened in the store? Oh, wait. She had literally smacked into Mikel earlier and he had bought her lunch. That's right. She recalled the meeting about her painting. It had started so well and ended so poorly, much like her day. Perhaps she was a curse. Maybe the people on the news were right and she was somehow a lesser being because the gods above had decided she was not worthy of being Marked. She pondered that, then glanced up as Kate froze and seemed to be looking for permission to sit down. How odd. That was something Kassi wasn't used to at all.

"Yes, go ahead. Make yourself comfortable," she said. That was something people said, right? Make yourself comfortable. Having guests was so odd, but having another person around was nice.. somewhat. She wasn't sure if inviting Kate in was a fantastic idea or not since she barely knew the woman, but the thought of turning her out now made Kassi panic slightly, as she didn't know what she would do if left alone again.

"I ran in to Mikel, the man who has the gallery down the street," she explained after a minute of silent thought. "I gave a painting to his gallery and he wanted to talk about it. He was very nice," she added, figuring that she had to do her part to carry on the conversation even if she felt completely lost.

She looked away, her blue eyes slowly tracing around the room and flicking over the paintings. Well over one hundred of the things, now all lined up and useless. She really quite disliked how they were all spread out and seeming to take over her entire apartment, but she had been hoping that seeming them all would inspire her. Instead, it frustrated her and made her want to just disconnect from everything. So that's what she was doing. Though she was speaking to Kate, she was barely paying attention and her mind was in writhing agony over the letter that was now in her pocket.

 

[Sterling]

Kate flashed a kind, grateful smile. She actually stood and removed her trench coat. She expertly folded the garment into a perfect beige rectangle and stashed it near her bag on the floor. Her short skirt stretches as she slowly lowered herself onto Kassi's couch and shifted about in a wiggling motion. Kate purred in contentment, and extended her left arm across the top of the couch's back. When she did, Kate's faded Mark was openly displayed. Normally self-conscious about showing it, Kate momentarily banished any concern over her emblem of inferiority. She felt good here, and intended on enjoying every moment.

"Being a therapist, I'm an connoisseur of couches, you know. An uncomfortable couch will shut up a client faster than seeing an invoice. A comfortable couch, ... well, get a client on a comfortable couch and sometimes I can't keep up."

Kate spread her hands over the couch material, sighing heavenly. "Yeah, this one is definitely a keeper."

Kassi's mentioning of the Gallery piqued a recognition in her mind. She'd known there was a gallery down the street from her practice. Kate had walked past it on multiple occasions, but never had the courage to go inside. It wasn't that Kate didn't appreciate art, or wasn't curious; she was a therapist, and Stephen was an engineer, making them both children of the sciences - the prospect of entering such a foreign world was intimidating. Yet, Kate had to admit that the glowing wood floor and brilliant artwork on the walls beckoned to her whenever she walked past. Her mind would flood with excuses for not indulging her curiosity. I'm tired today, Art isn't my thing, I wouldn't know what to say. And then Kate realized that if enjoying the Gallery was even but a fraction of the delight she felt in Kassi's room, she had been avoiding a wondrous aspect of life. Perhaps, she would visit it one of these days.

Maybe today wasn't going to be total crap after all, Kate thought. She regarded Kassi, who still appeared listless. Kate's professional radar was on high-alert, and she decided to tread cautiously.

"Kassi?" Kate waited for the young woman to make eye contact before continuing. "I'm very glad you opened your door and let me inside today. It means a great deal to me."

 

[Ethys]

For some reason, Kate's assessment of her couch struck Kassi as amusing. She could tell that the woman meant it and truly was comfortable, but the couch had really been an afterthought when she was filling her apartment. In fact, it was more of an extra surface with the thought that if she ever had a live model that was willing to pose instead of being caught unaware, she could have them sit there so that she could still use her stool. Of course, that had never actually happened, it was just a nice thought. She never had anybody in here and never wanted anybody in here really.. until now. Even now she wasn't sure about the wanting aspect of it, but Kate's company was keeping her mostly grounded.

She glanced up when she heard her name, her eyes connecting with Kate's. Already she had seen the Marking. She had never actually met somebody else who was Unmarked like she was, yet each time that she realized somebody she wanted to be friends with was Marked, she was freshly disappointed. Just once she wanted to meet somebody who she could relate to. Now she didn't even have family to fall back on. Still, she pushed that from her mind and managed a small smile for the grateful woman on her couch.

"I'm glad you came in. Maybe now I'll be motivated to clean," she said, not realizing that what she said could be taken entirely differently than how she meant it. Most people would have said that jokingly and meant cleaning for having guests over, as though having clutter around was some sort of embarrassment. In Kassi's frame of mind, she simply meant that she was hoping this interaction would give her the drive necessary to tidy up the paintings and give up on her quest for inspiration.

She found herself thinking about how all great artists tended to die young, and how she could see why.

Trying to ignore the dangerous path her thoughts were taking, Kassi sat on her stool and faced Kate, trying to think of what else to speak about. Already they had talked about Mikel and how Kassi had bumped into him and given him a painting. Kate had mentioned her day, but not given a lot of detail. That seemed a normal thing to ask about.

"Why do you talk to dangerous clients? Shouldn't they go somewhere else?"

 

[Sterling]

"Oh, no need to clean up," Kate said. "This is who you are ... I think it's just peachy. It certainly cheers ME up."

Despite the clutter, Kate spoke the truth. Her life was isolated drudgery that she desperately tried to order into a semblance of a normal life. Even on the best of days, the life she led was eminently hollow and dour. The few people in her life that granted a spark of joy included a older colleague, Tam, and Henny. The brevity of the list struck Kate just then, and her mind dwelt on the one friend she wish was at her side, her husband, Stephen. It was then Kate realized that the sting of love's sorrow was closer to her surface than she felt comfortable, or at least thought appropriate. With relief, Kate answered Kassi's question.

"Well, it's certainly not by choice, believe me." Kate rolls her arm toward Kassi to more prominently expose her faded Marking. "This is the reason." The Mark she shared consisted of five or six bands around her left elbow. They did not encircle her arm, but were like bracelets, and the bottom of each pattern was serrated like a soft hamon. The Wise informed her such subtly and dilution of the Marking's form destined her emotions to serve others and comfort them. She had tried her hardest, all her life, to fulfill this prophesy and found that reality was often more than she wanted to endure. On the outside, Kate's eyes craved a facade of detachment; however, she watched Kassi's reaction to her faded Mark keenly. Kate was taking a chance - she hoped Kassi would accept her, and staved off the creeping threat of internal collapse should Kassi reject her.

"I'm happiest knowing I'm helping people by listening to them speak freely," Kate said. "My ears are most open when I'm not in fear of an unstable patient assaulting me. Perhaps if things were different, I could be more choosy. But, I've developed a reputation of being faded, ... so, most folks will seek other therapy professionals. The majority of my patients are people other clinics turn away, and I even have a number of Unmarked patients from time to time." Kate delivered her last thought without compunction or a shred of judgement, and then stifled a yawn from the day's fatigue. "Case in point .. today, I slipped a poor fellow a more powerful neuroleptic than I intended to prescribe. He just needed to leave. He was an Unmarked fellow with family problems. Don't' get me wrong, I have compassion for his situation, I just won't allow myself to be in danger. I do think about the torment those people must endure ..."

Kate's gaze drifted off into a painting across the room. It was a colorful rendition of a park scene Kassi had photographed. The image was filled with most people rendered as bright ensembles of vitality. Nestled within the matrix of colorful energy, Kate could see a few, indistinct figures, relatively lifeless and hidden in drabness. Kate thought she notice an affect in the painting that was reflected in her soul. The drab characters were hiding in plain sight.

"I don't suffer even a portion of their plight, but I know how it feels be made invisible."

The day's sadness swept back with the strength of a tsunami and threatened to overtake her cheerful mood. She remembered she was sitting on Kassi's couch, caught in the glorious visual maelstrom that surrounded her. Sitting in Kassi's own sanctuary fortified Kate, and she was silently grateful. Kate had often wondered how many other people lived in the city with faded Marks. She wondered how they coped, and if they had a place like Kassi's to gather their resolve and persevere. Kate then remembered Kassi mentioned the Gallery earlier, and meeting the person who owned it, wanting to encourage others to be in awe of Kassi's marvelous artistic abilities.

"Kassi, ... tell me about the Gallery owner you met. You said you gave him a painting? Did he like it? If it was anything like the ones here, I'm sure he loved it! Do you think you'll show more of your work there?" Kate crossed her fine, muscular legs. "I know I'd come to the opening."

 

[Ethys]

Kassi tilted her head, examining the Marking with interest. This was the reason she was an outcast and a freak, but she still found Markings to be quite beautiful at times. Kate's was nice and simple, but seemed off, somehow. Like it had been half washed out. She was confused until Kate mentioned a word Kassi hadn't heard before when talking about Markings. Faded. Oh. What did that even mean? Something must have happened to cause it to fade like that. How curious. She honestly didn't know much about Markings, because nobody made an attempt to educate an Unmarked. It wasn't something she needed to know, and so she hadn't been taught. She pondered that, then glanced back up at Kate as she mentioned having Unmarked patients.

What?

She was stunned. This nice woman who had a real career and probably a bunch of friends and a big family, took time out of her day to see people who were considered the slime of society. And she didn't even seem upset about it. It was.. shocking. She glanced at the painting that Kate seemed interested in, then looked back at Kate and nodded distractedly.

"He liked it. He said something about an exhibition but we didn't talk much.. He was upset. His friend died and our meeting ended," she said, frowning. Poor Hans. Murdered before his quest for equality was even half over. She looked down, getting more upset. This wasn't working. Having company was nice, but she was still no good at keeping it for more than a few minutes, even when she was aching inside. She cleared her throat and looked up at Kate.

"I'm sorry, I.. can't do this," she said, half paying attention to what she was even saying. "I have to go. But it was really nice seeing you, Kate. If there is an opening thing you should come, that'd be nice."

 

[Sterling]

Kate's mouth opened like a punch to the stomach. She was in pained disbelief ... was it something she said? No, she realized, she's repulsed by my faded Mark. Kate's chest compressed to the point of asphyxiation, and she clenched her jaw to hold back the tears lining her eyes. She had deluded herself with a few minutes of acceptance, and she thought she should be grateful for at least that much. Kate quickly pulled on her coat to cover her shame, and then froze in utter confusion.

"If there is an opening thing you should come, that'd be nice."

Kate swallowed the lump of self-loathing that emerged to drag her down into depression. Her head cleared a bit, giving a bobbing nod and a forced smile.

"I do hope I didn't overstep myself. Feel free to come down sometime, if you want. I'm in 616." Kate slid her feet into her heels and hoisted her bag, and then headed for the door. She opened it, and turned to Kassi once again. "Kassi, please ... if you ever need anything, I want to help you. Alright?" This time her smile was genuine, and she walked out of Kassi's apartment and down the hall.

 

[Ethys]

Though Kassi's skills at carrying on a conversation were appalling, she did have enough wits about her to notice Kate's expression. An expression like that would normally inspire her to paint - it was so full of emotion, but not in a good way. Kassi blinked, confused by Kate's reaction. It seemed the woman bounced from one emotion to the next with little pause in between, leaving the silent painter feeling lost and in the dark. She simply watched her 'friend' as she stood and prepared to go, still feeling like she was missing something important.

"Thank you, Kate. You're a good friend," she said softly, though it was a bit delayed and she wasn't sure if the woman heard it at all. She slowly shut the door once Kate was out of sight, then turned to face her now-empty apartment. The sense of loneliness that hit her at that moment was almost crushing. Sure, she had been alone before and had felt alone since she was old enough to realize it. But this was different. She ran her hands through her hair and slowly sank down until she was sitting on the floor with her back against the door. Her mind was filled with maybes.

Maybe the people on the news were right.
Maybe she was dangerous.
Maybe her family had always wanted an excuse to get rid of her.
Maybe she was the reason people in the world got sick or died.
Maybe she shouldn't be here.

She buried her face in her hands, shaking badly as she tried to get a grip. Nothing was working. She forced herself to stand, stumbling her way to the kitchen to get a glass. Cold water would snap her out of it, surely. Perhaps it would have, if she hadn't immediately dropped the glass and sent a sparkling array of glass shards all across her kitchen floor. The look of glass on the tiles was actually rather pretty, and she stared at it for a few minutes instead of cleaning it up. She could even see a couple of tiny rainbows cast by the light shining above. Huh. But.. now was not the time for rainbows. She had to do something, make herself better.

But.. how?

Not knowing her own plans, she grabbed her house key off the counter and shoved it in her pocket, then left without bothering to grab a jacket. Her long sleeved shirt was enough - though that also left her without a wallet. She headed for the stairs, feeling as though she was falling apart.

 

[Sterling]

The faint clicking of Mikel's keyboard echoed off the walls in his silent office. He had been sitting in front of his computer, chained with purpose for a full hour, combing through the painful sands of memory and sorrow. Mikel had only begun to process the grief of losing his friend, Hans Arden. He was still in shock, and the process of putting words on the screen afforded a distractive comfort from the dam of emotion threatening to burst within him. Mikel needed to do something for his friend, to acknowledge him for both their sakes. In his heart, Mikel knew that there would be no funeral allowed for his friend, no opportunity to openly mourn and connect with the love he brought into this life. The murder of Hans Arden was meant to send a message to anyone who sympathized with his sentiments: You're a radical. Your discontent is unwelcome. Marked agitators will be disposed of like Unmarked chattel.

Mikel was typing the finishing words on his manuscript when he heard a voice call out from below.

"Hello? Mr. Stedler?"

Mikel promised himself he'd complete his eulogy to Hans before setting to other tasks or entertaining guests. But, Mikel was taken with a mild concern he couldn't quite place. Art was considered an elite institution, and people who visited galleries came with a sort of reverence and quiet respect. The man's voice sounded unconcerned with such conventions. Mikel rose from his desk and saw Gün perched at the stair landing, looking down into the Gallery with his back arched and claws out. Mikel did not like being summoned in his own establishment and started down the stairs. He turned to address his feline friend.

"Stay here."

Mikel glided onto the main floor and strode into his Gallery. He immediately noticed a man he did not recognize standing before the "12 States of Karma,". The stranger was short, fat, and balding; he stared perplexed at a blood-red mask that seemed to scowl back. The collar of the man's white shirt was frayed with shiny lines from persistent over-starching and he wore a suit of pedestrian quality that hadn't been cleaned in ages. The smiled crookedly, looking pleased to see Mikel, and extended his hand.

"Mr. Mikel Stedler? Hello, Sir ... My name is-"

"Please lower your voice, Sir. There are guests in the Gallery I do not wish disturbed."

"Oh," the man said. He looked about and noticed two couples, as if for the first time. He sighed in impatient frustration. "My apologies. My name is Brody Dullden, and I represent the Citizens for Ethical Decency. I'm here today-"

"The who, ... sorry?" Mikel asked.

The man took pleasure in Mikel's question, a familiar hook that offered an excuse for grandstanding. "I'm so glad you asked. I promise, my dear man, you won't regret it. The Citizens for Ethical Decency are your friends. We are a broad consortium of like-minded intellectuals, philosophers, and public officials who come together out of concern for the welfare and integrity of our society."

Mikel's fists clenched and rested on them on his hips. "This is an art gallery, Mr. Dullden. Is there some way I may help you?"

"Yes, actually." Mr. Dullden faced the red masks with a curious face, regarding them in silence before continuing. "What are these masks, if I may ask?"

Mikel relaxed his stance and crossed his arms. The fat man exuded an imperious tone that Mikel found irritating. The connection between the masks and Mr. Dullden's prattling eluded Mikel, and he decided if edifying him about the masks got him to leave, so be it.

"The work is by Johann Sal ... Fiber-ceramic with oxide enamel. The maroon-fringes were biscuit-fired. The kiln used-"

"No," Mr. Dullden, interrupted, "I'd like to learn about their meaning ... their contribution to society."

The request generated an odd look from Mikel. "Of ... course, Mr. Dullden." Contribution to society? It's art, you ass. Mikel took a deep breath and continued. "The masks are a modern representation of an ancient, occidental spiritual force called Karma. The religion associated with Karma contends that souls are destined to reincarnate and correct transgressions from past lives." The man's face betrayed a profound confusion, and he listened with annoyed glare. "These masks illustrate the twelve possible pitfalls a soul can encounter in their path toward enlightenment."

"How ... quaint," the man managed. "Luckily, we have evolved and are free from such drivel. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Stedler?" The man's eyebrows raised slightly in anticipation of Mikel's response.

"Precisely, why are you here, Mr. Dullden?" Mikel's tone was came with a demanding edge. Mr. Dullden was toying with Mikel, and it began to infuriate the curator.

A smirk stretched across Mr. Dullden's face, and he paced slowly to Hans Arden's Skin piece. Mikel had just written an excerpt about the sole example of Arden's work in his possession. He was well briefed on the layers of nuanced meaning, and welcomed an invitation to discuss it.

"This is Skin no. 12, by Hans Arden. The grid-"

"No need to waste your breath, Mr. Stedler," Mr. Dullden stated.

"You're aware of the work, then?" Mikel asked.

"Mildly," Mr. Dullden answered. He turned back to the grid of photographs and screwed his face with unmistakable distain. "I don't need to learn more about trash like this. In fact, ..." Mr. Dullden turned dramatically to once again face Mikel. "Given your extensive knowledge of art, I'm quite surprised you'd agree to show such tasteless and objectionable work in the first place. I expect you've simply had a lack of judgment, and THAT is precisely why I'm here today, Mr. Stedler."

Mr. Dullden fixed his tie and straightened his jacket. "I've come here as your friend, Mr. Stedler. To warn you that others are roaming the cultural venues of this city. I'm giving you an opportunity to prevent unrest, and negative publicity." He spreads his arms out, embracing the a Gallery's collection. "You've done a marvelous job assembling one of the finest galleries in Milliane. It would be a terrible shame to rob our citizens of such beauty, because of the notoriety of one mistake. That, my friend," he declared, pointing to Skin no. 12, "will ruin you."

A startling, carnivorous hiss made Mr. Dullden step back in fright. Standing at Mikel's side was Gün, who was adding his contribution to the conversation.

"Dear me, what is that dreadful beast?!?"

No answer came from Mikel, and Gün settled at his friend's side, watching the corpulent puss with unwavering menace. Mikel folded his arms, his face impassive and stoic. "It sounds like you're threatening me, Mr. Dullden."

"I'm informing you of reality, Mr. Stedler. A wave is coming, and you'd do well to shore what you value against the tide." Mr. Dullden fastened the lowest button of his jacket, and began moving toward the exit. "Consider yourself warned."

Mikel watched Mr. Dullden leave the Gallery. Through the window, Mikel spotted three burly men who had been waiting outside on the sidewalk. The three men fell in line behind Mr. Dullden as they walked out of sight to the west.

 

[Ethys]

Kassi made it down about two flights of stairs before the endless decline and her own lack of coordination started teaming up with her distracted mind. She tripped once and caught herself on the railing, inwardly cursing as she kept on down. Four more times she tripped before she got to the bottom, though she only truly fell once and slid down five stairs before catching herself. As a result, she had a lovely new bruise on her knee. She rubbed it with a frown once she reached the lobby, then decided it didn't matter. The pain seemed irrelevant. She just wanted.. something. Something not here. A walk, perhaps. She straightened up and left the building, glancing around before deciding to head east.

Perhaps she would circle the city, or loop around to the backside of the park where there was a large pond. The bridge there had inspired a few pieces from her, as it was a common place for people to roam. She pondered that, wondering if she should cut across the grittier downtown area as well. It was not the nicest or cleanest part of the city, but it was certainly very busy and the colors one could see down there were stunning if they were paying attention. She didn't think she could paint for a while, but it would be nice to get away and stop thinking about-

"Whoa!" she squealed, cutting off her own train of thought. She had run right into a large man who was walking down the sidewalk. That was twice in one day! She frowned in dismay and stumbled back, looking up at the man. He had two others who were also, she noted, massive in comparison to herself. A fourth was standing off to the side, smaller than his fellows. He seemed irritated about something, she noticed, though she couldn't bring herself to care.

"Sorry.."

 

[Sterling]

Mr. Dullden's visit left Mikel furious. How dare he? The moment artistic content and the choice of what is considered "acceptable" art becomes restricted, it is no longer free expresssion - it is propoganda. By forcing the exclusivity of what Mikel, and other Gallery owners, are allowed to show, the effect will be the widespread censorship of cultural media. People will not be invited to question with open wonder if the questions themselves are controlled. Mikel pinched the top of his nose. A headache was forming, and that despicable rodent had only served to further inflame the discomfort to his brain.

Mikel turned to face Skin no. 12. The array of frames seemed to address Mikel's presence with an one of equal, but stark measure. He examined each of the Marking photos in depth, and then considered his own. He had become so accustomed to it, he forgot to notice it at times. He thought he remembered seeing it the last time he'd showered. The inherent benefits it conferred onto his life and status were substantial, and he had to admit that he took the rights he possessed for granted. That forgetfulness of privilege was precisely what Hans Arden fought to highlight and remind the general masses: Just because you do not suffer, do not ignore the suffering of those around you. He thought of Kassi, and his outburst decrying the injustice of a society apathetic to the plight of the innocent damned. He wished he hadn't asked her to leave before. He would feel better if she were close to him now. Mikel spotted Gün pacing the front window, acting as a sentry in case Mr. Dullden decided to return. A viceral hatred welled in Mikel, and he made a decision that would change his life forever.

"You're a fascist, Mr. Dullden," Mikel said to himself. "I'll see you in Hell." Mikel returned upstairs to complete his eulogy.

 

[Ethys]

After getting glared at, Kassi had skirted the men and continued on her way. Where to go? She paused when she was passing the gallery, glancing inside for just a moment. A familiar feline tail caught her attention, but so did two couples who were enjoying the art inside. She shook her head slightly and turned away, continuing on. What time was it? She had dinner with Mikel, then had spent several hours in her apartment, then with Kate after work.. It was getting late. The sky was growing dark and the wind was getting colder, but she pressed on. What else was she supposed to do? Home was torture and she had nobody to turn to. Even her art had turned its back on her, leaving her feeling as though she was completely alone.

And so, she did what any person fighting off suicidal thoughts does when they feel alone.

She found a bar, went inside, and sat down. Of course, it was rather pointless because she had not brought along her wallet or identification, but nobody stopped her from taking a seat at a booth in the corner. This was rather nice, she decided. It was warm, and fairly quiet even though there were plenty of people to watch. Her corner was dim and she was able to curl her legs up on the bench, sitting in the corner and simply observing. She asked only for a water when a waitress came over, deciding that this was the best way to be around people and not want to lose her marbles.

At least not yet.

 

[Sterling]

Gün was a Valk Bear Cat, and could not escape instinctual tendencies passed down over thousands of generations. Mikel acknowledged the wildness in his long-time friend, and fastened a sturdy perch for Gün on the side of a solid oaken cabinet. The feline was sound asleep on his side near the ceiling, limbs dangling perilously over the edge. Yet, Gün calmly enjoyed his slumber, which he amply earned after chasing out that vile bully, Mr. Dullden. Mikel watched him with a satisfied grin.

Mikel was taking a mental break after having finished the final edits to his eulogy to Hans Arden. He was proud of it, and felt it was both an accurate account of Hans' more high profile adventures, as well as an indictment of the system Hans fought so valiantly to correct. Mikel thought Hans would approve of his work, but his friend was gone. He needed to find a sympathetic mind to read the eulogy and assure him it was of proper grammatical construction. But, was that all? Mikel felt a disquiet deep inside that yearned to break open the injustices occupying the fringes of his life. He wanted to pick a fight with people like Mr. Dullden, and he wanted a voice of reason to counsel him on the wisdom of such an endeavor. There was really only one person whom he wanted to read the eulogy.

Mikel took out a small notecard from his desk, and wrote the name "KASSI" on the envelope front in bold letters. Then, he began to write in the card:

Kassi,

The painting you left me last night still hangs on my wall. I love it, and am eager to see more examples of your talent. I'm wondering if you would be able to assist me in another matter. If you happen to catch this, please stop by my Gallery first thing tomorrow morning.

I hope to see you then.

Mikel R. Stedler
Fine Arts Gallery

Mikel inserted the card into the envelope, and decided to return home for the night. As he locked the door, he propped the envelope upright on the sill. The name "KASSI" on the envelope could be seen by anyone passing by. Mikel drove his car home and fell into a dreamless sleep until morning.