Vyse had encountered some trouble finding the focus to record his first memory for the sensorium. Trissa had asked him several weeks prior and now, with her guidance he had managed to record the cloying sensation of anxiety he often felt around strangers. His recollection was still a bit scattered and hazy, but it was authentic to his experiences, if perhaps slightly exaggerated...
The memory begins with you stood in a familiar, but public place. You glimpse a stranger who's gaze seems determined on you as they approach. Their presence is unmistakable, though their form and identity seems hazy and nebulous. Their gaze, no matter how kind, seems to judge you. They are bigger than you, stronger, better looking, or disarmingly attractive to you, perhaps they're of the same race and you worry their disapproval may come more readily than kinship. Under their scrutiny you feel a bleeding warmth flood your core, an instant, dull heat that radiates out and warms your face and the back of your neck.
They offer you a greeting. The joints of your knuckles begin subtly nagging with an itch, prompting digits to squirm and fidget. You worry for a moment why it is they approached you. You worry what expectations they may have and whether or not you can possibly live up to the good and defy the negative. As you reply your voice catches in your throat and a you scramble for your voice to make good on its effort. A tightness resides in your chest at the embarrassment. Surely they noticed. Your eyes can't seem to lift to their face for the moment, each time your gaze begins to glimpse their features you feel the heat on your brow flare and the coiling fret in your chest constrict. Though you can't spy their face, your mind sets to work imagining all the possible permutations, they giggle at it endeared, or in ridicule ,they're off put, they're disdainful, dismissive, worried, sympathetic, frustrated.
Finally the stranger utters a name in introduction. You're unsure if the tone is inviting or if you simply feel the nagging compulsion to complete the social contract. You echo the name they spoke and offer your own, the repelling aura of their visage suddenly dispelled. Your gaze lifts to meet their gaze. Though your eyes only meet for an instant, your heart thrums a few panicked beats as if slapping a child's hand from the candy bowl. Your gaze averts itself hurriedly. "Pleased to meet you." they say, anxiousness easing reluctantly as you look to them again, and just as you do the memory ends...
An Anxious Introduction
