Glass doors open wide, permitting Paintbrush to step through them. Their shoes, professional and leather and really painful to walk in, made a clicking noise as they moved along the pristine floor. They were very glad it hadn't been raining, or else they may have been fired on the spot for bringing the cold and rain inside the warm building they now found themselves in.
To be perfectly honest, Paintbrush probably seemed like a bit of an idiot as they looked around completely gobsmacked at the place that they could now call their work building. It was much too nice, miles nicer than the apartment they currently found themselves living in, and... hell, maybe wearing the fancy shoes was worth it.
Instinctively, they fix their tie and try to flatten the lock of hair that continued to spike up despite how many times it had been pushed down. Why must they have a bad hair day on their first day of work?
Or, another question that seems more fitting; why must they have a bad hair day every day? Because it certainly seemed as if that was the case.
They walk toward the front desk, sort of expecting a stern woman with glasses and a mole to order them around. What they were not expecting was a purple-haired boy with a mask, robotic-looking arms typing away on the laptop in front of them, something bright filling the unnaturally-cyan eyes that the receptionist had.
"Is this reception?" Paintbrush asks, in as kind yet professional a voice they can muster. The boy typing perks up, eyes going wide and zoning in on Paintbrush.
After what sounded like a cough, they begin to speak. "Yes, of course! How might I help you today?" He asks kindly.
Paintbrush is a little thrown off by the voice- not really what they were expecting, but something familiar at the same time. "I'm the new employee set to join today... Paintbrush? I'm supposed to be seeing the supervisor sometime soon."
"Ah, Paintbrush! Of course, it's a pleasure to meet you in person. I believe I guided you through your online interview," the receptionist said kindly. "MePhone will be with you shortly."
Paintbrush now recognized the voice, and therefore why it was so strange to hear at first; this was, in fact, the person who had guided them through their online interview. Thank the lords they had passed.
"Thank you, MePad," they said, now knowing the receptionists name. Really, they should've just looked at the nameplate, but who does that nowadays? Professional people? Paintbrush was not a professional person.
And speaking of unprofessional people...
"MISTA MEPAD!" A voice called from faraway, pure and merry with a slight accent that Paintbrush failed to put their finger on. "I gotchu something, ooh I think it'll be just grand! Do you wanna come see!?"
"I will be with you in a moment, Toilet," MePad called behind their half-robotic shoulder, turning back to Paintbrush with a sheepish expression half-hidden by the mask they donned. "My apologies. Toilet can be a bit... Abrasive, at times."
Merely shaking their head fondly, Paintbrush noticed the slight chuckle coming from their throat dry up as they noticed a figure coming from the hallway. "It's no concern to me," they reassured quickly. "Is that the supervisor over there?"
MePad swivelled its head, nodding in confirmation once they had gotten a look of the person making long strides in their general direction. "That would be him. I hope you have a wonderful first day here at Meeple Incorporated, Paintbrush; sincerely."
"As much as I believe it's far from your first day, I hope you have a good day as well," Paintbrush hummed politely, turning to face the office supervisor with what they hoped was a courteous smile.
YOU ARE READING
A Monotonous Orbit
Fanfiction<WORK IN PROGRESS> Or perhaps that was just their anger. Paintbrush couldn't really be sure of anything but one thing; they were most definitely taller than Lightbulb, even with the stool she had herself propped up against. "Ha," they said, hi...