Right, that M.E.G. report on Smilers was properly chilling. Efficient, clinical, and left you wanting to sleep with a high-lumen torch duct-taped to your forehead. While informative in a 'know-thy-killer' sort of way, it didn't exactly soothe the nerves. I fancied something different for my next literary dip. Less immediate, fang-baring terror, more… unsettling weirdness. Something that makes you scratch your head before possibly making you run for your life. K.M.'s book, "Existential Dread in Infinite Space," popped back into my mind – his dismissal of trying to psychoanalyze a Faceling as utterly pointless. That blank-faced lot. Not usually aggressive, just… there. Silent mimics in the endless corridors. What's their story? Or lack thereof? That felt like the perfect antidote to the Smiler's visceral horror – trading sharp teeth for smooth, terrifying emptiness.
So, back to the QLs (Zoology/Monsters) I went, though I half-wondered if Facelings might be filed under HM (Sociology) or even BF (Psychology), given their peculiar mimicry. After navigating past "A Field Guide to Lesser Sludges: Viscosity & You" and "Partygoer Etiquette: A Survivalist's Oxymoron," I spotted it. A book bound in stark, clinical white buckram, utterly devoid of illustration, making it stand out against the generally darker or more battered volumes. It looked unnervingly like a medical textbook from a hospital where they forgot to install windows or personalities. The Call Number was QL89.9 .F3 H8 2015, and the title, in crisp, sans-serif black letters, read: "The Blank Parade: A Sociological & Behavioural Study of Faceling Constructs (Third Edition, Mildly Bewildered)."
The author was listed as "Dr. Evelyn Hollow," a name that sounded appropriately spectral, published by the "Anomalous Anthropology Press." This was definitely a Backrooms Book, promising a deep dive into the fundamentally shallow nature of the Facelings. It felt cool and smooth to the touch, unnervingly pristine, and smelled faintly of sterile wipes and existential confusion.
Returning to my trusty nook – the pot plant seemed neither pleased nor displeased, maintaining a neutral greenness that felt almost Faceling-esque – I opened Dr. Hollow's study. The layout was academic, full of charts, diagrams attempting to plot Faceling movement patterns (mostly resembling random scribbles), and blurry photographs captured from a safe distance. The tone wasn't M.E.G.'s clipped efficiency, but rather a sort of weary, intellectual frustration. Dr. Hollow clearly dedicated considerable time to studying these blank enigmas and came away mostly baffled.
Introduction: The Challenge of the Featureless
Dr. Hollow began by acknowledging the fundamental weirdness of her subject. "Studying the Faceling," she wrote, "is less biological fieldwork and more akin to observing sentient architecture or attempting to interview fog. They exist, they move, they interact in rudimentary ways, yet they present an almost perfect vacuum of discernible identity, motive, or internal life. This study attempts to catalogue observed behaviours and physical characteristics, while acknowledging the profound limitations in truly understanding these pervasive, unsettling constructs." She immediately addressed the terminology: 'Constructs' rather than 'beings,' reflecting the prevailing theory that they weren't born or evolved, but formed by the Backrooms itself.
Chapter 1: Morphology of the Void (Or, What They Look Like When They're Not Looking Back)
This chapter detailed the physical aspects, emphasising the variations:
The Face (Or Lack Thereof): The defining feature, paradoxically, is the utter absence of features. Smooth, undifferentiated skin where eyes, nose, and mouth should be. Dr. Hollow noted minor variations in texture (some almost glassy, others like soft clay) but stressed the consistent blankness. How they perceive anything remains a core mystery. Theories included tactile senses across the entire head surface, rudimentary echolocation (though no sounds are emitted), or direct environmental input via unknown means ("reality osmosis," one footnote whimsically suggested).
Form & Attire: Facelings come in roughly humanoid shapes, commonly adult-sized and child-sized ('Faceling Minors'). Their 'clothing' is often described as generic – simple trousers and shirts, plain dresses – or, more disturbingly, near-perfect mimicry of nearby wanderers' attire. Dr. Hollow included comparison photos: a wanderer in a red jacket standing near a Faceling that had 'adopted' an identical, slightly faded red jacket. The mechanism for this clothing manifestation/mimicry was unknown. Do they generate clothes? Steal them somehow? Absorb ambient 'clothing data'? Pure speculation.
The 'Fakeling' Phenomenon: A subsection discussed rarer variants, sometimes dubbed 'Fakelings,' which attempt to mimic other entities (Hounds, Skin-Stealers) but retain the blank face. These were often distorted or incomplete mimics, described as "profoundly disturbing prototypes" and generally exhibiting more erratic, occasionally aggressive behaviour. This hinted at potential Fandom-aligned complexities, where not all Facelings are harmless background noise.
Chapter 2: The Silent Shuffle (Behavioural Observations)
Here, Dr. Hollow documented typical Faceling actions, based on countless hours of observation (presumably from behind very thick glass or a conveniently placed pillar):
Aimless Wandering: The most common behaviour. Facelings drift through Levels, often following established paths or corridors, but without apparent destination or purpose. Movement is usually smooth, silent, and unremarkable, making them easy to overlook until you notice the lack of face.
Benign Mimicry: Their tendency to copy nearby wanderers' actions is well-documented. If a wanderer sits, nearby Facelings might slowly sit too. If someone rummages in a bag, a Faceling might make similar, empty-handed motions. This mimicry is usually slightly delayed and imperfect, described by Hollow as "like a faulty echo in motion." It's generally considered non-hostile, merely confusing.
Congregation & Following: Facelings sometimes gather in groups, standing silently in empty rooms or plazas ("Quorums of the Blank," Hollow called them). They also exhibit a tendency to trail wanderers at a distance, not aggressively, but persistently, like disinterested shadows. This can be intensely unnerving, even if no overt threat is present.
Lack of Communication: Facelings are overwhelmingly silent. No vocalizations, no gestures beyond basic mimicry. Efforts by M.E.G. researchers (referenced in footnotes) to establish communication via symbols, sounds, or even telepathic probes reportedly met with utter failure – "like trying to communicate with a brick wall, only the wall occasionally dresses like you," one M.E.G. report snippet noted dryly.
The Aggression Anomaly: While generally passive (especially in established Wikidot lore), Hollow dedicated a section to documented instances of sudden Faceling aggression. These were rare but alarming. Triggers appeared varied: perceived threats to 'Faceling Minors,' loud noises in confined spaces, direct physical contact, or proximity to certain unstable Level geometries. Aggression manifested as surprisingly fast lunges, swarming behaviour, or simple, forceful blocking of paths. Hollow stressed this was atypical but necessitated caution – "Assume passivity, prepare for inexplicable hostility," was her advice. This aligned more with some Fandom interpretations where Facelings can pose a threat under specific, often poorly understood circumstances.
Chapter 3: Untangling the Non-Social Network (Group Dynamics & Theories of Origin)
This was where Dr. Hollow really wrestled with the enigma. How do you analyze the society of beings who show no discernible signs of individual thought or interaction?
Group Movement: Charts showed Faceling groups moving with a strange, loose coordination, navigating obstacles without obvious communication. Was it a rudimentary hive mind? Shared environmental cues? Or just programmed pathfinding? Hollow admitted defeat: "Their collective motion resembles a flock of birds or school of fish, yet lacks any observable leader or signalling mechanism. It is coordinated chaos, or perhaps chaos masquerading as coordination."
Faceling Minors: The presence of child-sized Facelings raised questions. Were they offspring? Smaller models? Symbolic representations? They often triggered protective behaviour in adult Facelings if approached threateningly, suggesting some level of programmed response, if not genuine emotion.
Dominant Theories (None Satisfactory): Hollow reviewed the popular explanations, similar to those in the "Chronologies," but focused specifically on Facelings:
Environmental Echoes: Facelings as 'psychic recordings' of past wanderers, replaying fragmented behaviours. Explains mimicry but not their physical presence or occasional aggression.
Incomplete Constructs: The Backrooms 'spawning' humanoid entities but failing the 'facial texture map.' Plausible given the reality-warping environment, but lacked predictive power.
NPC Hypothesis: Facelings as literal background characters in whatever simulation/reality this is. Explains their lack of agency but felt "philosophically unsatisfying and impossible to test," Hollow lamented.
Sentient Scenery: A bleak theory suggesting Facelings are no more sentient than the wallpaper, merely mobile parts of the Level's structure designed to enhance unease. K.M.'s "pointless to psychoanalyze" view seemed to favour this.
Conclusion: The Unknowable Crowd
Dr. Hollow concluded her study with a sigh that was almost audible through the text. "The Faceling remains an enigma wrapped in a featureless void," she wrote. "They are ubiquitous, generally harmless, yet profoundly disturbing, challenging our fundamental assumptions about identity, consciousness, and what it means to be 'present' in a space. They are the blank slate upon which wanderers project their own fears and loneliness. Perhaps understanding them is impossible; perhaps the point is simply to coexist with the unsettling silence of their passage." The final page contained only a bibliography citing numerous M.E.G. reports, obscure philosophical texts, and one surprising Frontroom Book: "Mannequins: A History of Display." Fitting.
I closed the stark white book. No adrenaline rush like the Smiler report, just a deep, quiet unease. Facelings weren't predators in the conventional sense, but their blank mimicry, their utter otherness, felt like a different kind of horror – the horror of the missing, the incomplete, the fundamentally unknowable. It made the bustling, flawed, faced humanity I remembered feel incredibly precious.
Time for the ritual. Anchor myself back to 'me'. Almond Water – cool, consistent, blessedly feature-full in its flavour profile. Protein bar – 'Chocolate Pretzel Surprise' (The surprise was there were no pretzels, just a vague saltiness). As I chewed, I consciously observed the details around me. The slight wear on the armrest of my chair. The pattern of dust motes dancing in the lantern light. The comforting solidity of things being things.
Shelf-tidying duty. I slotted Dr. Hollow's bewildered study back into its place. It nestled between "Comparative Anatomy of Entities Lacking Bilateral Symmetry" and, with perfect cosmic irony, a faded Frontroom Book – "Acting for Dummies." The thought of trying to teach Method acting to a Faceling was good for a much-needed chuckle.
Later, while nursing another cup of (lukewarm) Almond Water, I saw the genealogist meticulously cleaning his spectacles. We exchanged our usual nod. Inspired by Hollow's work and Proteus's earlier provocations, I ventured, "Ever ponder what constitutes 'personhood' here? Between the shapeshifters, the perpetually amnesiac, and... well, the ones without faces?"
He paused, polishing, then gave a thoughtful hum. "A profound question, young friend. Records suggest criteria shift. M.E.G. uses cognitive tests, behavioural consistency... messy metrics. Some older texts speak of 'soul resonance,' whatever that means. Myself? I tend to focus on recorded actions, lineage, the trace left behind. A Faceling leaves no trace but unease. A wanderer, even a lost one, leaves... history." He gestured towards his notebooks. "Fragile, perhaps, but there."
His words, coupled with the Faceling study, spun my thoughts in a new direction. Traces. History. Communication. How do people leave their mark here, beyond desperate journal entries like Finch's? Graffiti is common, yes, but what about more complex communication? Are there established Backrooms languages, codes, signal systems beyond the M.E.G.'s technical jargon? How do disparate groups, maybe even non-humanoid intelligences, talk across the dimensional static? That felt like a fascinating avenue. Less about individual entities, more about the connective tissue – or lack thereof – between them. Time to investigate the P section – Linguistics. Perhaps find something on Backrooms pidgins, coded messages, or the delightful challenge of trying to translate a Hound's howl.