Re: Journal of Sociology [S!6] - [Fulfilling Reserves...]
07-22-2012, 04:43 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Wojjan.
Dr. von Wissenschaft had his own way of blending into the Pacific Spire. John Doe had definitely enjoyed good... upkeep (though calling it that as if he was a chassis made him wince a little) and he was sure he could pass off the few visible sutures for battlescars, and attribute his grunting, slouching and butterfly eyes to the tough overtime.
Miss Blacklight, on the other hand, had her way of not fitting into anything. Compared to the grimy taupe office buildings seemed to daub themselves in, her gaudy dress could've just as well been playing merry-go-round music, or be entirely see-through. And her gait - for each ounce careless twice as carefree - clashed so badly with the tense atmosphere in the Spire that it had been making employees legitimately upset.
"Um."
"Oh, she's a marvel really. People usually carry their desires inside themselves, but Jean just wears them... on her sleeve, I guess!" The more she was allowed to fawn over the positively darling golem she'd met, the faster she started alking. Alberich was having enough trouble to keep her pace, and he got especially frustrated when she reached a velocity where following that secretary woman seemed more so dumb luck rather than kind intention.
The door was labeled "MAIL ROOM," but calling it a mail wing would've been more appropriate. The room had it all, from an old-fashioned operator station to veritable chambers stuffed with letters, labeled FAMILY or INTERNS on the windows. Seeing this many people present just to cater the communation throughout the building made Alberich joke to himself that there could be more people handling this wing than there were fighting the alleged war. And that joke brought the sad and frightening realisation that he had no idea exactly how many people could be out for his head right now. The doctor, now worrying for his life and sanity just a little bit more, tapped the woman in front of them on the shoulder.
"'Scuse me..."
Victoria was her name. Like everyone else, Victoria had a secret. Secrets don't cooperate well with desires, mostly because of their absorbent tendencies. Imagine them like silly putty. You can shape or cheat with them to your heart's content to fill up or cover up spaces in your life you're unhappy with, but as you spread them out you're bound to get a film of soot-colored jelly over your floor and furniture. Keeping a secret occupies your head, and depending on how much it not being spilled matters to you, you'll have more and more desires gradually lose their focus and get tangled up with tending to your secret. If someone were to spoil Victoria's, she would no longer get what she wants. Those are the worst kind.
Victoria took them down a long elevator. Uncannily so, but more uncanny were the safety hammer, safety toque and safety assault rifle next to the fire extinguisher, all laveled "IN CASE OF BREAK GLASS." In case of what was up to the user. She didn't respond to Alberich until the doors were closed. "Normally, new people arrive on the ground floor, we give them the kind receptionist treatment and then take them to the intern section for training. After that you'd get taken to the mail room, then to your office. Today... wasn't your day. Some guys at 258 of ours are winning the teleport race, and are trying to pull people in at random spots now, instead of just to their floor from the mail room as it usually goes. You guys got spawned in the main offices, which means it's apparently my job to take you through the whole building backwards, just to get some paperwork done and what's worse, we're gonna arrive at the intern section and nobodyis gonna have the key to the cabinet with the employee registry documents."
"But,"
Victoria didn't pay the man any much heed, and continued her muffled fuming. Alberich was about to talk some sense into her, but when the elevator dinged open, for once Alberich wasn't cut off by someone else, but by himself. He was on the ground floor. He sped outside from the elevator, past the receptionist's desk at a speed John Doe had never been known to run at before, and was outside before Victoria as much as protested.
He smelled the octane in the air, heard the thundering clamor of busy streets and for the first time felt as if the world he was in was real, but more importantly, that he could escape it. He intended to look up at the sky, but John fell flat on his back, and probably sprained something doing so. And he looked at the sky, and saw his puppet staring back at him. His eyes slightly glazed and droopy, his face mixing confusion and anger. The entire building mirrored upside down in thick, bright pink mist that seemed to congregate and flow through the building.
"How..."
"Uh, are you alright?"
[color=#006400]Victoria stood hunched over him, more worried about how to explain this than his actual wellbeing. It was very clear that asking if he was well was a matter of politeness, and the answer (yes) was already implied. She hoisted John on her shoulder, and carried him into another elevator, opposite to the one they had just exited. This one had no safety assault rifle, and Alberich had too much of a disconnect with any kind of logic to know how to feel about that.
When they arrived at the floor Victoria entered, (buttons for each floor were useless in elevators as tall as this one, so the company resorted to wiring a calculator to the wall. This lead to practical jokes where interns were sent to floor 14
Dr. von Wissenschaft had his own way of blending into the Pacific Spire. John Doe had definitely enjoyed good... upkeep (though calling it that as if he was a chassis made him wince a little) and he was sure he could pass off the few visible sutures for battlescars, and attribute his grunting, slouching and butterfly eyes to the tough overtime.
Miss Blacklight, on the other hand, had her way of not fitting into anything. Compared to the grimy taupe office buildings seemed to daub themselves in, her gaudy dress could've just as well been playing merry-go-round music, or be entirely see-through. And her gait - for each ounce careless twice as carefree - clashed so badly with the tense atmosphere in the Spire that it had been making employees legitimately upset.
"Um."
"Oh, she's a marvel really. People usually carry their desires inside themselves, but Jean just wears them... on her sleeve, I guess!" The more she was allowed to fawn over the positively darling golem she'd met, the faster she started alking. Alberich was having enough trouble to keep her pace, and he got especially frustrated when she reached a velocity where following that secretary woman seemed more so dumb luck rather than kind intention.
The door was labeled "MAIL ROOM," but calling it a mail wing would've been more appropriate. The room had it all, from an old-fashioned operator station to veritable chambers stuffed with letters, labeled FAMILY or INTERNS on the windows. Seeing this many people present just to cater the communation throughout the building made Alberich joke to himself that there could be more people handling this wing than there were fighting the alleged war. And that joke brought the sad and frightening realisation that he had no idea exactly how many people could be out for his head right now. The doctor, now worrying for his life and sanity just a little bit more, tapped the woman in front of them on the shoulder.
"'Scuse me..."
Victoria was her name. Like everyone else, Victoria had a secret. Secrets don't cooperate well with desires, mostly because of their absorbent tendencies. Imagine them like silly putty. You can shape or cheat with them to your heart's content to fill up or cover up spaces in your life you're unhappy with, but as you spread them out you're bound to get a film of soot-colored jelly over your floor and furniture. Keeping a secret occupies your head, and depending on how much it not being spilled matters to you, you'll have more and more desires gradually lose their focus and get tangled up with tending to your secret. If someone were to spoil Victoria's, she would no longer get what she wants. Those are the worst kind.
Victoria took them down a long elevator. Uncannily so, but more uncanny were the safety hammer, safety toque and safety assault rifle next to the fire extinguisher, all laveled "IN CASE OF BREAK GLASS." In case of what was up to the user. She didn't respond to Alberich until the doors were closed. "Normally, new people arrive on the ground floor, we give them the kind receptionist treatment and then take them to the intern section for training. After that you'd get taken to the mail room, then to your office. Today... wasn't your day. Some guys at 258 of ours are winning the teleport race, and are trying to pull people in at random spots now, instead of just to their floor from the mail room as it usually goes. You guys got spawned in the main offices, which means it's apparently my job to take you through the whole building backwards, just to get some paperwork done and what's worse, we're gonna arrive at the intern section and nobodyis gonna have the key to the cabinet with the employee registry documents."
"But,"
Victoria didn't pay the man any much heed, and continued her muffled fuming. Alberich was about to talk some sense into her, but when the elevator dinged open, for once Alberich wasn't cut off by someone else, but by himself. He was on the ground floor. He sped outside from the elevator, past the receptionist's desk at a speed John Doe had never been known to run at before, and was outside before Victoria as much as protested.
He smelled the octane in the air, heard the thundering clamor of busy streets and for the first time felt as if the world he was in was real, but more importantly, that he could escape it. He intended to look up at the sky, but John fell flat on his back, and probably sprained something doing so. And he looked at the sky, and saw his puppet staring back at him. His eyes slightly glazed and droopy, his face mixing confusion and anger. The entire building mirrored upside down in thick, bright pink mist that seemed to congregate and flow through the building.
"How..."
"Uh, are you alright?"
[color=#006400]Victoria stood hunched over him, more worried about how to explain this than his actual wellbeing. It was very clear that asking if he was well was a matter of politeness, and the answer (yes) was already implied. She hoisted John on her shoulder, and carried him into another elevator, opposite to the one they had just exited. This one had no safety assault rifle, and Alberich had too much of a disconnect with any kind of logic to know how to feel about that.
When they arrived at the floor Victoria entered, (buttons for each floor were useless in elevators as tall as this one, so the company resorted to wiring a calculator to the wall. This lead to practical jokes where interns were sent to floor 14
quidquid Latine dictum sit altum videtur.