Mar 25, 2011 02:25
If anyone bothered to look, there is another name on the lease. The name could be traced to a corporation in a different country; if contacted, a brief, formal and utterly unremarkable transfer of information occurrs, and, sooner or later, Jonathan Crane collects his messages.
Were there other tenants in the building? There must be, but never on this floor, and the elevators are always empty, as are the foyer and all the windows. No noise carries from these offices, and none travels to them. This is for the best, really.
Inside, it's a matter of image and expectations. Most of the sessions take place in a dark room or a bright one. The stark, white room, where Dr. Crane is the only spot of darkness, is for special situations. The other, lined with books, panelled and papered in somber tones of muted red and brown, is the one most clients expect, and so it is the one they see.
Instead of a couch, there's a choice of a over-sized chair or a chaise - an armless chaise, almost more of a stylized cot. Behind it, no attempt at disguise, is the PASIV device, waiting for use. Clients in the chair can see it clearly; clients on the chaise hear its whirring behind them. Crane sits perched behind his desk, watching their reactions in either case.
inception