[ WP ] You were born with a large birthmark in the shape of a dragon . However , this is just a coincidence ; there is absolutely nothing magical about it , and you 're getting really tired of explaining this .

The hiring manager peered over the edge of the clip-board, his tiny eyes dull and suspicious. `` You certainly have an exciting work history, mister Thee... Theack...'' 
 
 `` The Excruciator,'' I replied, `` two words.'' The manager delivered a single, incredulous blink, and I felt the heat rising up the back of my neck. `` It's European,'' I offered as way of explanation. The manager nodded, making a noncommittal humming sound, his eyes returning to the resume clutched close to his round, white face. 
 
 `` Well, you certainly have the qualifications necessary for a network security manager,'' he said. `` My only concern is personality, whether you'd fit with the... the culture here.'' If his small voice had a color, it would be the same lacy grey of the cubicle's carpeted walls. `` For example,'' he said, `` we do have a dress code...'' 
 
 I could feel his eyes on me. The sigh escaped before I could stop it; my fingers raised to touch my cheek, to trace the dark line curling over my eye, over my scalp. The dragonmark, *the dragonmark, stained into the flesh of the Chosen Warrior by the waters of his birth, the smoke-wreath dragonmark which shall name and denote the master of-* 
 
 I'd tried to grow my hair out, but it just would n't take. `` It's a birthmark,'' I said. The manager gave another little noise, *mmhm*. His eyes were on my shoes, my shirt, the class ring on my little finger, the bulk of my biceps. His body was soft and small and round, a breakable thing. I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth, deeply and deliberately, like my therapist had shown me. `` Well,'' he continued, `` we'll have to see what can be done about that. Furthermore, there is the matter of this gap in your employment. Fourth quarter 2011 to third-quarter 2012?'' The cadence of his speech denoted criticism, the slight sick sound of self-satisfaction. `` Do you have an explanation for this?'' 
 
 Deep breath. In through the nose and out through the mouth. *Cruel Kalvann, who had gathered Time behind him in a cloud of devastation, standing on the lip of the volcano and laughing his mad laugh, whose hands stirred the stars to catastropic foretelling, whose dreadful mien was evermore loathsome in its blood familiarity with the dragonmarked hero fated to oppose him... * 
 
 `` Family emergency,'' I said. Calvin was a very sick man. He was getting help now. And I was moving on. 
 
 `` I see,'' said the manager. He laid the clipboard down on his hunched knees, staring me full in the face. For a few seconds at least, before his gaze drifted downward, unable to hold my stare for long. `` To be honest,'' he said, addressing my throat, `` your qualifications are impeccable, but I just do n't know if you'll fit into the culture here.'' Wormlike and jealous, exercising what mean power he had like a rat with a pistol in its teeth. `` Is there anything you'd like to say... ask?'' 
 
 *Do you yet dream? Which withered god would be small enough to hear your grasping prayers? * `` Well,'' I said, `` you see, I've... always seen a future for myself in an organization like this one. Is there anything, any tips you might give me on fitting in? Better?'' 
 
 His smile was like a slick of butter sliding down a filthy street. `` I do n't think it's something that can be taught, Mr. Excruciator. It's just something that you are.'' He stood, and I stood with him. He held out his hand and I took it, staring down at his bald spot while he limply shook my outstretched hand. I could have crushed his fingerbones into fine powder with but the slightest muscular action. 
 
 `` We'll get in touch with our decision,'' he oozed, `` have a good day out there.'' 
 
 I walked out of the cubicle, into the office, past a few dozen identical grey-walled workspaces. The elevator doors slid shut with the lazy finality of a sick man gulping down his life's last breaths. 
 
 I could n't quite remember where I had parked my griffon.
