RER02
[Date: Dec/6/24]
[Cycle: SNOW PRIME]
[Barista: Lavender]
[Subject: Mrs. Jejune]
[File Reference: RER02]
Caramel and I attended one of the Jejune Institute’s “self-help seminars” last night. It was held in a sleek conference hall attached to the Baths, oozing charm and confidence—its mirrored, overly reflective walls a study in sterilized charisma. We weren’t really sure what to expect. A motivational talk? A pitch for some new self-improvement scheme? What we found was something far more insidious: a meticulously crafted performance, equal parts captivating and unnerving.
The attendees—ordinary people at first glance—settled into their seats with eager anticipation. The presenter, a silver-tongued orator with perfect posture and an unnervingly wide smile, opened with ideas that seemed innocuous:
"Everyone has a story—everyone IS a story. And don’t let them tell you your story is a failure, a flop, a box-office bomb! Even the greatest stories in Hollywood need a rewrite, right? So why not you?"
Caramel and I played along, blending into the crowd as the seminar unfolded. The exercises started innocently—a chant here, a visualization there. But the rhythm of it, the cadence, became almost hypnotic. The audience responded with eerie synchronization, their movements precise and mechanical by the end. That’s when the Jejune philosophy bared its fangs.
Mrs. Jejune’s goal is as ambitious as it is horrifying: to rewrite the psychological and emotional fabric of humanity. It’s her vision of “socio-reengineering.” The Jejune Institute isn’t just after control; it’s about dissolving individuality entirely. Signals capable of reshaping thoughts, embedding new emotional pathways, and erasing the self—leaving behind pliable, hollow minds, ready to be filled with whatever narrative Mrs. Jejune, or Snow, chooses to broadcast.
The seminar ended with a video. The screen flickered to life, revealing a spiraling pattern overlaid with static—a pulse that seemed to sync disturbingly with my heartbeat. The imagery that followed was disjointed and haunting: hands reaching upward, mouths moving soundlessly, blank faces dissolving into static. Over the footage, Mrs. Jejune’s unmistakable voice intoned:
"Freedom is chaos. Order is renewal. Let us bring you the clarity you deserve."
We have to stop this. Somehow.