17 ==> Numbered Grey Skin

The next week came around slowly, perhaps due to the fact that you hadn't slept very much. It was impossible to even manage resting on a human mattress for however long and not resorting to pacing the floor. Everything kept playing on repeat in your restless mind; the lies you told Kanaya, blowing up a human monument, Vriska blackmailing you into submission, the injuries you withhold any eyes from seeing. It was a lot of baggage to carry around and pretend you were okay, in which you were at least for the moment.

That one troll from that night never left the caverns of your thoughts as well. The more you think about her and what she did, you start to remind yourself about all the horrid things that come with you as a friend. You wouldn't want to place her into that type of position and wreck unnecessary havoc on her pretty face. Shamefully, you can admit she was attractive to you, but not towards the 'lustful' type of interests. More or less, you found her peculiar and odd with a sense of comforting beauty. It was a bit shallow to base sometroll's looks on a whim, but the only encounters with her begin with the literature club. Which you've been attending just to catch a glimpse of her, talk to her, anything.

Even though the very thought of Aradia's painted red smile kept the voices in your head away, you couldn't help but to wish they'd stop. You wouldn't want to get too close and drag her into your messed up life, like what happened to Kanaya. To ruin a beauty like her would be sin itself reincarnated.

A knock came from your door, your eyes glancing over as you gave a sigh. "Decent." You let the being behind the door know and it creaked open to reveal your brother.

Kankri had an over used black tee-shirt on, a few holes but still wearable according to him, along with his scuffed up pants and shoes. He gave you a nod before speaking, "Glad to see you're actually awake this morning. It'll make things more easier."

"Uh... Easier?" You questioned as your eyebrows furrowed, though you were quite distracted by the flamboyant bruise that decided to show very well around his eye today. It was literally an eyes sore for attention, but you assume he's enjoying it quite well.

His posture straitened as he leaned on the door frame and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You do remember what father spoke of a week ago?" You bit your tongue, trying not to have a snarky remark burst out from your lips, instead you shook your head. "About the job? I'm taking you down to the registration building today. You're going to be placed into the system."

"Oh." Was all you could manage to say. This was a huge milestone in a young trollian's life, especially more risky for yours. You honestly forgot about this piece of information with everything going on. It jumpstarted your anxiety right away, you slowly sitting up on the bed and blankly staring at the rust-looking eyes watching you closely.

"I know this seems impossible, but if not, suspicion will rise even more about us." His soft expression mixed into a sense of reassurance and hope, "I promise you will be fine, Karkat."

'Fuck.' You thought to yourself, but responded with a nod and stood up to collect a few essentials to bring before following him out the door.

Though you admired your brothers courage to even take you there with the dangers that might come with it, you were nervous, extremely nervous. You knew what the registration process was and how it operated because of what others have explained, plus the other two grown trolls that have shown you what happens, literally.

You try to take a glance at Kankri's shoulder as the two of you walk side by side, but the annoying sleeve protects what you want to see.

Kankri seemed to notice your not-so-subtle staring as you jumped at his sudden voice, "I'm not going to be triggered by you wanting to see my number." He then rolled up the sleeve that was hiding the six-digit numbers burned into his flesh permanently.

Though you have saw it many times before this moment, this one instance was becoming more and more stressful. The numbers resemble a readable tattoo-like appearance, but because of the heat intensity his skin tissue was damaged and slightly raised enough so that you could feel it if you wanted to.

"Two-zero-four-eight-seven-three." You absentmindedly read out loud.

"Yes, that's me." He smoothed down the fabric and stuffed his hands into the holes of his grey pants. "You will be getting a number to call your own, though I must complain about the barbaric sense of this custom we adapted to."

Looking down at your moving feet, you rolled your eyes. "We didn't adapt to anything but rules that herd us like objects."

The imminent glare from your brother was irritating, but hell could you sense his eyes on you when he's pissed off. "Never say anything like that out loud, Karkat! Especially where we're heading, you would be incarcerated or executed on the spot. So keep that mouth shut before I do that job for them!"

Mouthing a 'sheesh', you decided to stay silent for the rest of the way. You didn't want to make him unbearable on the walk back home because this little bicker will not be the last of today. The constant reminders on both of your forearms are very irritated and itchy, but only today will they be seen by another soul other than your own. In order to get that high on your shoulder, you're going to have to lift up your sleeve and show the mangled sight to what you've done. It's something you wish could skip over and deal with the consequences later. To make matters even worse, the company of your brother will have front row tickets to the pity show.

'You're a fucking failure.'

The voices in your head are stir crazy now, throwing insults and anything they could think to hurt you. You don't need to be reminded that a failure is what you are and always will be, it still does sting though.

As the small facility came into view, some of the rust blood workers were seen slumped over or leaning on the outside wall. They were all in filthy black overalls that corresponded with a no longer white shirt and smudged coal faces, but aside from that they seemed to be conversing with one another in a friendly way. You wonder how they would act towards new workers or would they even bother.

"Go inside and sit, I'll have to fill out the papers." Your brother instructed as he held open the door for you to enter. You walked in and found a chair suitable to rest in while keeping an eye on Kankri as he made his way to the large counter. The metal bars encased a yellow blood as she typed away on the computer. She doesn't even look up at your brother as he spoke about the registry, as if it wasn't a big deal to her.

It was a huge deal to you.

Something that will be apart of responsibility is also associated with a penalty of death. You have an obligation to become a rust blood worker and do the same job for the rest of your miserable life, or at least when you gain the courage to end it all yourself. You'll have to work and abide to extreme rules just because society has nowhere else to place the lowest of the low. A puppet painted in rust blood to hide the dark fact of the candy-red pumping through your weak veins. At least falling down a mineshaft is common around this ghetto, if you decide to leave for good and wanted it to seem like an accident rather suicide.

"Karkat, come here." Kankri waved over, but you didn't want to budge.

'This is it.' Your mind screamed in anticipation as your legs hastily carried you over. You were shaking, wanting to run away and never come back to this place, but alas running away from problems doesn't work in this world. They will eventually find and set an example out of you, like countless of others who have tried. They're all dead now.