_casadastrophobic_pt1.log
2024-04-27 13:58:53.624919823 +0000 UTC
The flourescent lights hummed above his head, illuminating the room of others in a dull grey light. He couldn’t see anyones faces as they were either burned into their papers, or turned towards the front of the room, motionless and silent. The only noise that existed in the room was the predictable drone of the lights. The feeling in his head was so prominent it probably could pass as noise, or atleast so he felt.
Between lulls of physically invisible comotion in the room, the unstoppable hum buried its way deeper into his unguided train of thought. Inbetween mental lapses he would find it surrounding and permeating his thoughts. It was a nonviolent force, it had no intention to derail him and posed no threat to him or anyone in the room, it just kept him and anyone else keyed into the obscurity of the situation. It felt as if something was medicating everyone against the symphony of mediocrity that this room, along with all association it had, eminated profusely.
This feeling that filled his head was not a headache, or a migraine. It was different than any kind of ailment of the cranial variety than he had experienced.. Or was it? Was this something he had felt all his life, constantly ignoring and marking it off as a symptom of his human condition? The thought kept him stimulated, enough atleast to forget about the humming.
Was he feeling his brain?
The energy in the room picked up as the metal, pushbar type door stage right of the room opened. Following the door opening inward towards the room, a woman entered. She wore neutral colored clothing and had her hair done up in a brown clip which blended roughly with the rest of her hair. Her eyes seemed to avert the collective eye contact of the surveying room. Just as everyone was still maintaining the polite silence, as was she. She sat on a stool in the center front of the room, the wood tapped on the floor as the uneven legs settled under her weight. Her legs folded into a neat cross overlapping at the knees, where upon she placed her hands atop eachother. Her dry skin made an audible chafe as she did such and looked vacantly toward the crowd. She seemed to be looking at the collective without seeing anyone, no eyes traded handshakes and no faces were greeted with recognition. The nametag that was pinned neatly onto her soft white suit coat was illegible from his point of view, it looked to start with an ’M’, but that was just speculation.
“Welcome to our facility, I hope you all had a chance to read over our informational brochure.” she said, followed by a tight, fake smile.
The whole room was still silent, a few nodding and making gentle receptive hums and half commited words.
She began speaking out towards the room, in sharp, mild mannered sentences. He had tuned out and stopped listening as this agent of monotony droned on about the prospects of the facility and the value that is to be found here. The things you can accomplish and the greater good you’ll contribute to. It was such a dry monologue, no detail nor flavor. No personal inflection, no distinguishing remarks that peeled back the layer of orchestrated policy to an actual person. She spoke as a machine and was recieved as such. He looked around horizontally out of the corners of his eyes, turning his head ever so slightly as to allow his face to be met with another. To the left of him, the 2 rows of people were all focused towards the front, unshakingly. He sweeped to the right, stopping halfway through to feint his attention back upfront as to not alert the sentry of corporate plight. His eyes weren’t met by any others, although the face of a blond haired girl was biased in his direction. He tried to move his head a little more to get her attention, as she seemed unequally distracted from the Administrator up front. Her eyes darted from the front of the room to his, but retreated quickly reset to the front. This was not a fearful maneuver. Her mouth was closed tightly shut and she was flexing her jaw quickly and consistently, as if to a rhythym. The brief eye contact he recieved felt reluctant. Reluctant of the implications of such, but certain in their intent.
The Administrator ceased talking mid-sentence, relinquishing the half constructed word from her mouth out into the room. The change in auditory state of the room brought his attention to her. He met her cold, unimpressed eye contact and immediately felt the weight of the room on him.
“I would appreciate your undivided attention. There will be no excuses for failing to do so again.”
