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cw: drug mention
Canvas saddle bag. Mnemosyne steno pad β A5, of course. Two LEUCHTTERM1917 Drehgriffel β ballpoint pens, black and red ink, moss and orange barrels. Extra-firm Blackwing pencil. Steel Blackwing pencil sharpener. Travel-sized Neutrogena Norwegian hand cream, half-empty. 16oz water bottle, insulated, with a little sippy straw. Loop earplugs, case hooked onto one of the straps. Vape. Vape charger. Extra juice cart. Protein bar, in case he's hungry. Two extra protein bars, in case someone else is hungry. No cellphone, not allowed that here, but his Discman and his earbuds fit inconspicuously enough, so he slides them in as well. He can wear them for the walk over. It might help to soothe his nerves a little.
He still has two hours before the orientation starts. So at least one and a half before he's reasonably allowed to leave his room. And hypothetically, he could leave his room at any time, he doesn't think they lock them in at night; it would be nice, maybe go for an early morning stroll β early, early morning stroll β hit his vape (he's not about to test the smoke detector sensitivity on his first night, thank you) in peace and try to stop his chest from thudding like it's been since he'd arrived, but β he hasn't. Nobody's told him the rules, and if there's one thing Seth likes, it's guidelines. Acceptable parameters. Or something to gauge off of β someone else to make the mistake, ask the question first. He will if he has to, but if he doesn't have to β
β well. The time passes anyways. He fixes his hair in the mirror twice, combing the pomade through and fussing with it until it looks bad enough that he has to take a do-over β Blind Barber, for the record. Smells like amber and tonka. Delicious. He loves the notes of almond. Leaves a little earlier than he told himself he would to give Rohan a little wake up call; he yanks the blanket off the bed like he did when they were in college, and tosses a bar at his head, only wincing a little when it actually hits him. It's soothing and familiar enough that, for a moment, when he slips his earbuds in and starts down the hall, it feels a little more like a university dorm than it does a hospital wing.
The feeling carries him through the door and into a chair with an empty seat beside it. His bag lands in the seat next to him, which he hopes his colleagues take as a hint, because it's never stopped feeling embarrassing to be an adult saying sorry, saving this for someone, but he is, so. He pulls his notepad and pens from his bag, lays them out on the table in front of him, and dates the first page, ORIENTATION in big block letters at the top. He's one of the first, and only pulls his earbuds out and shuts his Discman off as more of the others start filing in. The room starts to swell with sound and movement β just shuffling and murmurs, but it's enough for the wind to fall from his sails completely when he raises his head and starts looking around.
Not a lot of familiar faces. Some too familiar, but impossible to place. Enough to give him the lightheaded, dizzy feeling that's plagued him β most of his life, but flares any time anyone at the Foundation has him doing anything but minding his own business. Ro's explained the difference between amnestics and dissociatives a million times, but the shit they dose them with just feels like ketamine with tendrils. And, God, are people talking already? It's all ringing in his ears and the RBF he knows he's making and wishes he wasn't β eye contact and smile, goddammit β he'd to stop his lip from twitching first. It takes him a second. He's used to it. Hopefully, the smile that follows β once he feels like a person again β isn't as alarming as it feels.
Rohan's filled the seat beside him at some point during his little episode, slung his bag on the back of his seat, and between the jab at his ribs and the water bottle he's retrieved for Seth, he's able to check back in, with enough time to start sketching down names and impressions β chicken scratch that can't be read over his shoulder and an inconsistent shorthand that'd be harder to decode than it's worth if they could, but the sounds of pen on paper is unmistakable. He watches for people's reactions to the fact of his note-taking. Sorry, folks. That's what he's here for. Studying you.
God. Do any of these people want to be here?
It's almost a comfort, the grimness emanating from so many corners of the room. The assurance he's not the only one with concerns, and the β freedom from being the biggest buzzkill of the pack. He might be sour on the assignment, but he can sit through an orientation like a professional, more than β the operatives among them especially β seem to be able to manage. A kick under the table seems to signal his turn and he refreshes his smile, fully human and mostly authentic this time β trying to be, at the very least.
"Hey everybody! I'm β Cowboy Greeting?" It's half a question when he says it, call sign still foreign and gaudy in his voice. "But Seth's fine, whatever you prefer. It's, uh β well. I'm looking forward to getting to work with all of you; most for the first time, I believe, though I know I have one or two past co-conspirators in the room."
The chuckle he chases that with is half-hearted, maybe more artificial than the overhead LEDs, and painfully social worker-coded. Jesus Christ. And his mouth is even drier, almost as dry as the room. A fucking mess. A debacle, no saving it. "I'm a junior researcher, currently under AEED.. I haven't been here long, but I've bounced between a few different departments and facilities as part of my work β kind of big-picture policy review? Are people doing what they're supposed to do, do we want them doing what they're supposed to be doing right now, looking at outcomes, that sort of thing. My background prior to starting with the Foundation was in social work and nonprofit policy, so."
Definitely the most long-winded description of paper-pushing legitimacy-bestowing bullshit he could give β and maybe that would've been a better approach for some of his new colleagues, but he's never been in the business of giving his bosses a reason to eliminate his position, and he's not about to start.
"Anyways. Again. Really excited to work with all of you. And if anyone's looking for a gym buddy for their time here, definitely hit me up. Know that's gonna be my first stop after we're done the official tour."
First stop. Definitely. Right after a vape break. He's going to need it.
