#and I WILL finish my Psychonauts Bingo challenge

[bcdrawsandwrites]

Day 16: Amputation / Chronic Pain / Hospital Characters: Caligosto Loboto Warnings: Amputation, torture Summary: Keeping track of multiple clients had always been a pain, but Loboto had never realized just how much of a pain it could be until now.

The note on the calendar seemed to jump out at him, and Loboto's entire body went tense.

Ah. Yes. That had been coming up.

It had been at the back of his mind for the past month or so, but every time the thought of it popped up, he'd waved it away, thinking, Bah, I'll get to that in a minute. It wasn't uncommon when he was working with more than one client, and especially when he was really on a roll with something.

Such had been the case this time, when he'd been working on figuring out how to make that sneezing powder General Oleander had discussed with him, and when he'd been preparing the ingredients to make it. He'd figured it out, sure enough, only to discover later that the powder would lose its effectiveness if left sitting, so he needed to procure a pepper grinder for its use. His mind had been entirely absorbed with working on this, so that'd he'd entirely forgotten about his other client.

This one was... an interesting fellow. His clients always tended to be, given his line of work, but this one was a psychic himself, looking to create an anti-psychic weapon. Hah! Who would've thought a psychic could want to harm his own disgusting kind like that? Not him, that's for sure. Not that he was psychic himself, of course.

Still, Loboto's hands gripped the edge of his work bench as he stared at the circled date on the calendar—today. His loupes darted over to a piece of paper situated below that, which was coated in a fine layer of dust. Quickly he snatched it up and looked it over, wondering if he could throw the thing together before his client got here, but no—it required many different things that he did not have immediate access to.

Loboto gripped the paper, glaring down at it, and finally slammed it down on the table again. Fine. It was fine. He'd meet with the client and tell him he needed an extension—he could do the project, but a job this precise needed time. He was sure to get chewed out—perhaps have fire lobbed at him or something—but he would manage.

Keeping his back straight, he marched out of his lab and down into the asylum, making his way to the storage room to check for Sheegor. Once she’d been made aware of what was going on, he headed out. He ignored Crispin's mindless praise and Fred's incoherent rambling, Gloria's pointless plays and Boyd's paranoia, all the while running different apologies through his head—strategies in case everything went belly-up like a dead fish.

Worst case scenario he'd tell the client off—tell him he can hire someone else for the job.

Finally he was down at the beach, waiting to see a boat creeping toward the island. No need to make him come all the way up to the lab and give him something else to be angry about. He waited at the shore, his feet sinking into the frosty dirt, and his hands twitching near the venus flytraps just so he could see them move. When still no boat appeared, his gaze turned to the shallow water along the shore, following the fish that made their home there. Busy as he usually was, he didn't get the chance to watch the marine life often.

"Enjoying yourself, Caligosto?"

With a startled squawk, Loboto spun around. There, directly behind him, was his client. He wasn't near as tall as Loboto, but coming up to his shoulders was an impressive feat regardless. Loboto looked down at him, then back and forth over the shoreline.

"Well? Where is it?"

Loboto turned back to his client with a frown. "Was gonna ask you the same thing. Where's your boat? Or did you take a swim? A bit chilly for—"

"Where is the weapon, Caligosto?"

He tutted. "I was getting to that! So you see, this project has turned out to be a delicate procedure, and will need a bit more time in the operating room, so to speak.”

The man stared at him—or, Loboto presumed he did. It was annoyingly difficult to tell with his face shadowed under that wide-brimmed hat. "...You don't have it."

Loboto stiffened, and sighed inwardly. All right, it was going to be one of those clients. "No, I don't have it. But if you're willing to grant me an extension, I can certainly—"

"I asked for it by today." The client leaned in close, and Loboto could smell the cigarette smoke on his breath. "You told me it would be ready by today."

"Yes, well, I underestimated the time it would take," Loboto retorted. He took a step back and looked up at the tower. "If you'd like to come to my lab to talk this over, I can easily reschedule your app—"

The client grabbed him by the collar and yanked him down to eye level. "On the contrary, Doctor, I think we should discuss this in my office."

Before Loboto could protest, the beach abruptly disappeared.

—

Okay, so he'd figured the meeting would be in the client's office, but hey, it had been worth a shot.

Grumbling, Loboto looked around, finding the place maddeningly dark—worse than Thorney Towers, even. He'd been here once before, but then the client had at least been gracious enough to have a light on over the table where his plans had been laid out. Now though, he could hardly see anything, save for whatever the light from his loupes bounced off of.

"I like what you've done with the place," Loboto grumbled. He didn't move, for fear of bumping into a table or chair or who knew what.

"I'm going to cut to the chase," the client said, suddenly directly in front of him. Loboto took a step back. "This failure is not acceptable."

"Did you have to bring me here to tell me that?" Loboto snapped. "Look, if you don't like the way I handle things, you're free to find another—"

"No, Doctor, I'm not." The man leaned in closer, and his smoky breath reeked. "This plan needed to be known to as few people as possible. You know of the plan, of the weapon, and I am not letting word of it get out to anyone else. Do you understand?"

Loboto waved a hand in front of his face. "Yeah, yeah, loud and clear. Unlike your breath. Yeesh! When was the last time you brushed?"

"No, Doctor, I don't think it's clear."

"What, you really don't remember? I guess that's not a surprise—"

"It is not clear to you," the man said, "how much of a problem this is."

Loboto stared, and the man, he was sure—though he couldn't see his stupid eyes—stared right back. "You can't rush dentistry," he said coolly. "But if you're willing to help, we might be able to move things along faster."

"Oh, don't worry. I know how to get you to move this along faster, and I know how to help you as well."

Loboto sighed. "Whew! That's good n—"

Something snagged tightly around his middle, and he did not have to look to know that it was a disgusting psychic hand. He struggled, only for the hand to grip tighter.

"I think it's time you learn a lesson about what happens when you fail me."

Oh.

This was one of those clients.

"N-now wait a moment," Loboto stammered, and his voice pitched upward when his feet left the floor. "I've learned a lot of lessons already! You have to, to have a very official license like I—"

"Don't worry, Caligosto." The client lifted him up with his filthy, ugly psychic hand, and laid him down on a nearby table. "I'm sure you won't fail me again. Not after this."

"Y-you're quite persuasive!" Loboto whipped his head around as much as he was able. Still he couldn't see anything, until a light overhead suddenly flickered on, nearly blinding him. His loupes struggled to adjust. "I can certainly finish the project, but it would be a bit easier if you'd let me go!"

"I will in a moment," the client said, and Loboto could hear him rifling through some drawers nearby. "I just need to make sure this lesson is firmly cemented."

"C-cement, yes!" Loboto grinned, his mouth straining. "We use that in the dental field, you know! Use it to try to put teeth back together... but of course, it's better to just remove the bad tooth."

Pausing, the client stopped shuffling through the drawers. "Funny you should bring that up."

"Why?" Loboto tried to angle his loupes down so he could make some attempt at looking at the man. "Do you have a tooth in need of removal?"

The sound of metal sliding against wood reached his ears. "No," the client said. "But you have something in need of removal."

The blood drained from his face. "My teeth are fine—"

"I wasn't talking about your teeth, Doctor."

Before he could protest, another psychic hand grabbed his right arm and yanked it off to the side. At the same time, something else hovered into the light, and the teeth of a bone saw gleamed under the lamp.

Finally it clicked in his head what was happening.

"No, no!" Loboto cried, struggling against his disgusting psychic restraints as much as he was able. "Y-you can't do this—"

"I absolutely can, and I will, if that's what it will take to get you to take your job more seriously."

The bone saw was lowering toward him. "NO! I—I'll need my arm to work on this—"

"I'm sure you'll find a creative solution, like the one you promised me."

"NO!" He struggled harder, but the hands only gripped him tighter, the one grasping his arm gripping so hard he could no longer feel his hand, and it was getting hard to breathe. His chest heaved, his vision starting to glitch and flicker, the colors smeared and warping. In the fleeting moments when his loupes functioned, he could see three things: his client's form in the darkness, his own arm stretched out at his side, and the bone saw, looming ever closer.

Instinct kicked in.

BANG.

White-hot, blinding pain shot through his head as something purple exploded in front of him. There was a distant clatter, but he barely processed it, feeling dazed and disoriented.

"...You're full of surprises, doctor."

"Huhn... wha?" His loupes flicked on and off a few times as they adjusted. "What... happened...?" The bone saw was gone, so maybe his client had had a change of heart?

"You never told me you were psychic."

It took a moment before the statement registered, and when it did, Loboto scowled, his stomach turning sour. "I'm not one of those mentalists."

The grip around his middle tightened again. "Keep your outdated opinions to yourself." Anger edged into his voice as he went on: "It's time we proceed with the lesson."

Though the foggy pain in his head made it difficult to think, the sight of the bone saw hovering back into view made things alarmingly clear. "Wait, wait, NO—!"

The saw angled downward.

—

Loboto was not sure where he was, and was too exhausted and out-of-it to care. His throat hurt, and he was pretty sure some other part of him did, too, but his mind was dancing gleefully far away from whatever that was. He was also sitting, he was pretty sure.

"Good to see you awake."

His brain was sluggish to recall whose voice was addressing him. Once he did, he found himself too exhausted to be afraid, and too exhausted to remember why he would be afraid in the first place.

"I know you're feeling unwell, but as they say, live and learn. You'll live, and you've most certainly learned."

Unsure what he was supposed to have learned, he nodded.

"Good. Just know..."

Right now he just wanted to sleep. He nearly dozed off again right then and there, only for the man to seize his collar and yank him to his feet.

"If you let us down one more time," he said, and leaned in close, "I might not be kind enough to repeat that lesson."

The client stared into his eyes for a moment, and Loboto fought to keep his legs from giving out.

"I'll see you in a month, doctor."

And the next thing Loboto knew, the client was gone.

The room was gone.

Moonlight poured over him as he stood on the frosty shoreline, and chilly waves lapped at his boot heels.

[babycharmander]

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

Oh gosh, A LOT. I don't think I could go over all of them, but here's a few:

I had another fic in the Redemption Line series that I never finished. It was going to be set a few more years into the future--GLaDOS has left Chell and Wheatley alone, and Wheatley's been given a few more upgrades, but something's weighing on Wheatley's mind, and he eventually has to come to terms with the fact that he'll outlive Chell. I did get a good chunk of it written, but I never finished it because 1) I was afraid I was wearing that series into the ground, and 2) it seemed like such a downer note to leave the series on and I really didn't want that to be the last fic in the series after the positive note the last one was left on.

I had another longer Portal fic called Aerial Faith Plate that I got about a chapter and a half into. I wrote a ton of notes about it, but the whole thing felt way too intimidating to write. The concept of it was "What if Wheatley crashlanded on Earth (as is a typical starting point of post-game Wheatley-centric fics)... but lands nowhere near where Chell is?" The concept was inspired by The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane, about a toy rabbit that gets lost and goes through a string of owners. Likewise, Wheatley would've gone through a string of humans (plus at least one Vortigaunt) that take care of him for a time before he winds up somewhere else. I still really like the concept and may revisit it if I get super invested in Portal again.

A weird one was a Portal/Coco crossover I had started and written notes for??? It was... really convoluted and would've involved Wheatley and Space Core winding up back in Aperture, and escaping via some dimensional teleportation thing to wind up in the Land of the Dead. I had multiple ideas for how it would go, but the whole thing was just some convoluted nonsense so I could get Wheatley and H��ctor to interact, haha. I never got really far with it, though I'm pretty sure I have full notes written for like two different ways the fic could go. As I'm not super into Portal and Coco at the moment though, I'm not in any hurry to get back to this.

For Psychonauts, I have a LOT of WIPs and ideas that I really want to write (plus all my Bingo challenge fics!). Like I have one that's literally just Oleander and Loboto arguing at one point during Psychonauts 2. It's not abandoned exactly--I open it up every so often to add a few more lines to it--but at the moment I can't really figure out the best way to end it, so it's just sorta sitting around for now.

A weird one though is a fic that is finished, but that I'm not going to post because it's a huge mess. If you've read Psychics Ruin Everything... remember the last memory vault there? Or if you've read For Want of an Elevator and/or Patient, you know the Thing that happens? Cuz that's what this fic is. Problem is, I wrote this particular fic before Psychonauts 2 came out. The client was originally meant to be the mysterious client Loboto had been working for, but since we knew virtually nothing about him or Maligula at the time, I just did a bunch of guesswork. Surprise-surprise, everything I had guessed was completely wrong (and didn't make a lot of sense to begin with). It's also a tad... gruesome, so with those two factors there, I won't be posting it. However, I do have another oneshot planned that takes place after Psychics Ruin Everything and that references the event, so... there's that?

Gosh there's plenty of others but those are the ones that came to mind when writing this. *THUD* Like I have more that were like Undertale fics or Coco fics but I've probably talked about them in other posts, so I won't get into them here. But uh... there you are?

[bcdrawsandwrites]

[ID: The first image Psychonauts fanfic banner on a black-to-gray gradient background. On the left in white text it says “Prompt #6: Organ Theft” On the right is a bright green animated figment of a brain in a glass case. The top of the glass case is labeled "PREZ" and the base is labeled "NO TOUCH." The figment is based on one of the images from the Milla's Adventures! memory vault.

The second image is a Bad Things Happen Bingo card. Various prompts are marked with a half-brain (prompt requested but not filled) or full-brain (prompt requested and finished) symbol, while the “Organ Theft” prompt specifically is marked with a full brain symbol. /end ID]

FINALLY WE'RE BACK!! This one took me WAY too long, but here's the next fic in my @badthingshappenbingo challenge!

I am currently NO LONGER OPEN FOR REQUESTS. I have enough to work on to get a bingo! I MAY decide to reopen prompts later if I want to keep going after finishing these fics, but for now, requests are closed!

This request is for @of-science-and-stars! Sorry this took so long, and hope you enjoy! Thanks to @jaywings and @pinkygrocket for beta-reading!

Prompt: Organ Theft Characters: Sasha Nein, Milla Vodello, Ford Cruller Warnings: None

---~~~---

The doors leading into Sasha's lab slid open, and he trudged through them, making his way to his office, then all but collapsed down onto his couch. Automatically, he TK'd a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it with pyrokinesis, and he tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. He took a slow drag, sighing through his nose and watching the smoke spiral toward the ceiling.

He truly enjoyed his work. But there were some days that made him wish he had a different job—one that didn’t leave mental and emotional burdens weighing heavily on his shoulders.

Soon the first cigarette was smoked down to the filter. Into the ashtray it went, and it was swiftly replaced with another.

It was days like this that made him wish that he had never taken Ford up on his offer to join the Psychonauts when he had run into him so long ago. Of course, deep down he knew it was the best decision he'd ever made, and that mental exhaustion was causing his emotions to behave irrationally, but right now, that knowledge did nothing to change how he felt. As the events of the past several hours played out again in his mind, he sank lower into his couch. Truly this was one of the worst days of his career.

It could not possibly get worse.

If Hollis would no longer allow him to wear what he chose, then—

Shoehorn, Dustpan, this is Grease Jar.

Sasha jolted upright, scrambling to TK-grab his dropped cigarette before it burned the couch.

Got an important mission that's slipped through the cracks. U.S. government's deemed it too unimportant, but the entirety of Country's future is on the line if we don't do something.

Rubbing his forehead, Sasha wondered if Ford had misspoke. Before he could comment, Milla chimed in:

Of course, Grease Jar. Shoehorn and I would be happy to help. What's the trouble?

President's been captured.

What? That had to be wrong—how could that have slipped through the cracks? Are you sure?

Do I ever contact you when I'm not? You gonna help or what?

Well, he couldn't argue with that. ...Yes, he replied. We're ready.

Great. I'm getting things set up on my end. Paperwork will be handled as usual. Gimme a minute and I'll get you ready for transport.

Very well. Just... warn us this time, please. You recall how last time went.

You were fine, son. I know how to use the heimlich, and I can do it again if I need to.

He could feel Milla's gentle laugh, and he couldn't be too upset.

For a few moments he sat in his office, putting out his cigarette and straightening his jacket. Ford didn't like to waste time, so he'd likely be here any minute. Sighing, he stood up to stretch—

—and just as he realized one critical error he'd made, someone abruptly appeared next to him, grabbed his shoulder, and with a yank, he was out of his office.

—-

Sasha stumbled in the sudden dim light. The beeps and chirps from the nearby consoles weren't unfamiliar to him, but the use of teleportation was always jarring.

With a rush of green psychic energy, Ford and Milla appeared next to him. Nodding in satisfaction, Ford clapped both of them on the back. "Good to see you two out here to visit an old coot again."

"You know you're much more than that to us, Agent Cruller," Milla said with a smile.

"Pshaw." Ford waved a hand. "I didn't bring you here to get all sappy on me, anyway." He glanced over at Sasha, then blinked, one of his bushy brows raising. "Didn't take you out here for a vacation, either."

Milla followed his gaze, then covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. Meanwhile, Sasha looked away, shuffling his feet in his very comfortable pair of socks and sandals.

Shaking his head, Ford strode over to a console and tapped in a few keys, bringing up holographic images around the platform they stood upon. The first depicted a map of the globe, which zoomed in on a teeny tiny island. "So this here is Country."

"Which country?" Sasha asked, frowning at the image.

"It's not a country, it's a territory," Ford snapped, eyeing Sasha over his shoulder.

Milla exchanged a glance with Sasha before raising a finger. "You did just say it was a country—"

"No, I said it was Country. Keep up!" Frowning, Ford brought up a second map, which was zoomed a bit further out. "Country is a small island territory off the coast of Nation."

Sasha could feel regret creeping up his spine the second he opened his mouth. "Which nation—"

"The nation of—” He broke off into a sputter. “It's not a nation, it's a republic! Didn't you young'ns ever go to school?!"

Clasping her hands, Milla nodded. "Of course, Agent Cruller. What's going on there?"

Ford relaxed a little before bringing up another image—this one appearing to be a short, squat man with mint-green skin. "President's been found in danger."

"...The President?" Sasha asked, wilting.

"Yea—I mean, no!" Ford snapped, his body trembling in agitation. "His name's President—goes by Prez—and he's the Prime Minister of Country. He's been captured by terrorists and is being held captive in the Company Building."

Once again Sasha nearly opened his mouth, but Milla shook her head, and he held himself back. "So we'll head to this office building and—"

"It's not an office—it's a—a—" Ford broke off into sputtering once again, but this time shot a glare at the holograms around him. "Who names these things?!"

Milla laughed, and Ford rolled his eyes. "Laugh all you want, but I'd like to see you keep this stuff straight!"

Sighing, he brought up the layout of the fortress on the holograms. "Prez is being held somewhere in these walls. Now you'd think it'd be at the top of this tower here—" he pointed at a tower on the leftmost side of the building "—like some princess in a fairy tale, but the intelligence I've gathered shows he's most likely located somewhere around here." He indicated a number of smaller rooms in the middle of the building, then paused, indicating the tower again. "Or, if we're unlucky, he might be held there, where they apparently keep the gators."

The ridge of one of Sasha's lenses raised as he exchanged a glance with Milla. "Alligators?"

Ford scratched the back of his scalp as he glanced off to the side. "Or maybe it was crocodiles? Same difference. Anyway." Shaking his head, he pulled up another image that showed an aerial view of the building and its surrounding grounds. "Now, the authorities are camped out outside, and they’ve been notified that you’re coming. Hostage situations are delicate and all that, but if you can get Prez outside, they can take it from there."

"I assume these terrorists have a psychic on their side?" Sasha asked, examining the map. "Otherwise we would not have been called upon."

"Now that we're not sure," Ford admitted. "But one thing we do know is that they may have access to sneezing powder, which is going to complicate things. They may have some brains switched up."

"Ach, of course."

"We can handle it, Agent Cruller," Milla said, giving Sasha a nod.

"Good," Ford replied. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple photos as well as printed sheets of paper, which he handed to Sasha and Milla.

"Here's some pictures of our target, and some questions you'll need to ask him to verify his identity, in case they tried a switcheroo. Study 'em and burn 'em. I got the coordinates logged in the Pelican, as well as your disguises for the mission. I'll stay down here for now so you can reach me, and I'll give you more mission details along the way. Now git!"

With that, he waved his hands toward them in a shoo-ing motion.

"Tchau!" Milla said with a short wave.

"We'll be in contact," Sasha added, and the two of them headed for the tree stump exit. From there, the transport system brought them to the hangar. To his dismay, he found a bird's nest had been built atop one of the wings of the Pelican. "Ach... How do they keep getting in here?"

While Milla gently TK'd the nest off to the side, Sasha glanced around. While well-disguised on the outside, the hangar was above-ground, which led to... problems like this. At least the bears and cougars couldn't get in.

Milla gave him a playful psi-poke, and he shook his head. Right, they had bigger things to worry about right now. Arguably.

Once they had both levitated into the Pelican, a psychic message from Ford reached them: Once you're onboard, you should find your outfits on the front seats.

Nodding to each other, they approached their respective seats to find Milla's had one of her custom Psychonauts outfits folded neatly there, complete with the rarely-used hood. It also had a set of large, circular earrings on top, each of them transparent while giving off opalescent reflections. Sasha, meanwhile, found a fancy blue suit with a pin on the breast reading "Logan Smith - AquaSpark Amusement Parks.” Accompanying the outfit was a small briefcase with the fake company’s logo: a blue lightning bolt with a splash of water directly beneath it.

There were, however, no matching shoes for the outfit.

Sasha curled up inside himself.

So, Dustpan, you'll be handling the sneaky stuff. Those earrings there are one of Egg Carton's inventions—supposed to give you more invisibility time.

Milla smiled, turning over the earrings in her hand. Oh, that's wonderful! So stylish, too.

Yeah, yeah, he's all about style. Now, Shoehorn, you'll be the distraction. You'll be Logan Smith, CEO of AquaSpark Water Parks. For some reason these terrorists are just nuts about water parks, so they'll be happy to see you there.

Wonderful, Sasha thought, looking over the outfit. They sound reasonable.

"I'm sure you'll do great, darling!" Milla said with a smile.

Sasha almost raised a hand to protest, only to stop himself, and placed a hand on his temple to speak to Ford. Ford, there seems to be something missing from my outfit.

Eh?

The shoes.

Didn't give Milla shoes either. Figured you'd both come dressed for work.

He almost argued that he was dressed for work, but bit back the comment; a man's life was in danger, and there was no time to worry about shoes. Tapping the button to open the hangar door and flipping a number of switches, he sent a message to both Milla and Ford. Very well. Starting up the jet.

Good, Ford replied. Course is already set, so you should be there in about two hours.

We will notify you upon arrival.

As the jet took off, they braced themselves, and waited until the plane leveled before relaxing. Sasha turned to Milla. "We may as well familiarize ourselves with our target while we wait."

“Good idea!” Milla replied, TKing out the papers Ford had given her.

Sasha, meanwhile, TK'd out the photo he was given of Prez. Looking it over, he found himself staring into the face of a man who looked well-meaning, if somewhat baffled. Recalling the glimpse he'd gotten of the picture Ford had shown earlier, he wondered if that was the man's perpetual expression. Or perhaps he was just not photogenic.

After studying it for a while, he switched to the document. Said document detailed basic facts about the man—his birth date, his partner's name, the date of their anniversary, the names of all seven of his Samoyeds, and various other factoids that could be useful to know, ranging from basic to obscure. Fortunately, Sasha was used to memorizing this sort of thing—it was standard procedure for when a brain swap was suspected.

After he studied the notes for some time, another copy of the document entered his vision, and he didn't have to look to know that Milla was TKing it to him. Without a word he TK'd it off to his other side, gave her a moment to look away, and lit it on fire with pyrokinesis, doing the same with his own paper shortly afterward. "Aside from the odd names, this should be a fairly standard mission."

Milla nodded. "It will be over soon enough, and then we can throw a party!" She gave him a grin. "Perhaps that would cheer you up?"

Sasha stiffened. "Ah... I had hoped that wasn't obvious."

"It's all right, darling." She reached over to pat him on the shoulder gently. "Now let's get ready. It looks like we'll be arriving soon!"

Milla retreated into the bathroom, and stepped out in her Psychonaut outfit, without the hood—understandable, as it would not be comfortable to wear for an extended period. As his partner settled herself in her seat again, Sasha took a moment to step back to change into his own outfit. The suit tugged at his shoulders, but otherwise he found himself able to move around in it well enough. He kept his Psychonauts badge, however, slipping it into his pocket in case he needed to identify himself. But as he stepped back out, he frowned down at his feet.

"Oh, are you worried about your footwear?" Milla asked. He gave a start to find her looking back at him with an amused smile. "I'm sure you'll find a way to roll with it, darling."

"Hopefully," Sasha remarked, taking a moment to straighten his tie.

By this point, the jet was slowing down as it approached the Island of Country. Milla carefully tied her hair back into a bun and pulled her hood over her head. Her earrings poked out from the hood, looking obvious against the dark outfit, but half a second later she turned herself invisible.

"So far, so good," Sasha remarked, nodding approvingly in the direction where Milla had been standing. However, he felt her presence just behind him, and turned to see her smiling at him beneath her hood.

"I'm glad you think so," she said, a teasing glint in her eyes.

He gave a huff of amusement. "Even if Otto's new accessories don't work as advertised—which I'm sure they will—your stealth is unmatched."

"Naturally." Milla gave a soft laugh.

Looking down at the briefcase he’d been given, Sasha picked it up with his hand, and frowned. Well, this wouldn’t be enjoyable.

When the jet landed, the two drew their attention to a holographic screen near the cockpit. It displayed a map of the island, indicating where the jet had landed and where their target was.

"All right, listen up, cuz this recording's about to delete itself once it's done," Ford's voice crackled out of the speaker. "You've landed here, west of the target." The blip on the map indicating the jet flashed. "The authorities are gathered outside the building, and they've been made aware of your arrival. Dustpan, you're gonna sneak in through the side entrance here." The map zoomed in on the building, highlighting something on the western side. "The code to enter is 5002. Meanwhile, Shoehorn, you're gonna enter through the front, and make a show of pushing yourself through the cops. That'll get these guys' attention, and I'll leave you to figure out where to take it from there."

Sasha nodded grimly. Playing things by ear was not his favorite way to do things, but he could handle it when he had to.

"Remember, the fate of Country is on your shoulders, so don't screw this up. Grease Jar, out!" The screen switched off, and a dull bleep indicated that the message had been deleted.

Exchanging glances, Sasha and Milla gave each other a nod before exiting the Pelican, levitating onto the ground outside. With a wave of his hand, Sasha activated the jet's cloaking mechanism to hide it from view, and took note of his surroundings to remember where it was. They'd landed in a clearing in the middle of a forest, where enormous trees surrounded them. The air was thick and humid and alive with the buzzing of mosquitoes, and the sky was overcast. There was nothing really noteworthy here, but luckily, the building was a straight shot east of where they'd landed.

Also a straight shot east was a puddle of muck that Sasha had just stepped into.

His skin began to crawl, and he was certain about half a dozen regrets had spawned in his mental world.

"Watch your step, darling," Milla said, hovering gracefully over the ground.

Grimacing, Sasha levitated a few inches upward, telekinetically keeping hold of his sandal so it didn't slip off his foot and get devoured by the mud. He joined Milla in floating over the ground, but rather than the natural-looking hover Milla performed, he moved parallel to the ground as though standing upon an invisible moving walkway. As they traversed over the mud, he realized that this was more than just a patch of soggy ground—this was an outright swamp. He wished Ford had mentioned this.

Granted, it wasn't relevant to the mission, but it was relevant to his outfit.

Fortunately it wasn't long before they caught sight of a massive structure just beyond the swamp. It was a centuries-old fortress featuring a number of towers, giving the brief illusion that they had somehow stepped back in time. The illusion was shattered by the sight of modern police cars sitting outside, with various officers milling about idly.

Turning to Milla, Sasha gave a nod, and she faded from sight.

Let me know what's happening once you're inside, Milla said. I'll start scouting.

I'll try to draw their attention, Sasha replied, though he couldn't help but wish their roles were reversed.

Approaching the police, he TK'd his Psychonaut badge out of his pocket and flashed it at the police chief. It took a moment for the man to notice, but when he did, he did a double-take. "Hey, you're not supposed to be here," he spoke in a deliberate, dull tone.

As Sasha TK'd the badge away, the other cops looked at the chief, then at Sasha, before continuing the charade with little to no conviction. "Hey, get out of here. This is a police investigation!"

Sasha winced, but made his way toward the fortress nonetheless. "No," he said, also with volume, but hopefully more convincing than the police. "Let me through! I must speak with the men here!"

"Stay back. We have weapons." Several of the officers lifted batons (with a couple more enthusiastically raising guns).

Mentally Sasha prepared a psi-shield should the officers decide to attempt to be too convincing of the act they were putting on of keeping him out. "No!" he cried, raising his voice more with a rapid glance at the entrance to the fortress. "It is of dire importance that I speak to these people!"

To his relief, their plan seemed to be working—a few men wearing ski-masks were now staring at them from the other side of the iron gate that blocked the entrance. They looked at each other, then at him, and seemed to take notice of the logo on his briefcase. They gave a jump and their movements seemed to be growing more excited.

Unbelievable, Sasha thought. Shaking his head, he realized the officers were starting to close in on him (but not too much of course), and he redoubled his efforts to reach the fortress. "Let me through!"

There was a rusty screeching noise as the iron gate that blocked the entrance was raised. While a few officers turned to look at the gate, they looked away again, remembering the plan. With the police pretending to be preoccupied with Sasha, they “failed” to notice one of the men sneaking in their direction. Sasha continued to push his way toward the gate when the man suddenly rushed forward, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him into the fortress. The officers gave a half-hearted shout, a few of them pursuing before stopping at the closing gate.

"Bout time one of you guys heard about us!" the masked man said as he hauled Sasha through the courtyard. "Now we can finally be makin' some progress here!"

"I-indeed," Sasha stammered, wishing that this man would let go. His sandals were slapping noisily against the stone path and mud was flaking off of his pant leg. He noticed that the courtyard was filled with, of all things, inflatable water slides (many of which were deflated), but before he could comment on these, the man led him into the main building.

More people, these ones not wearing masks, hurried up to them, their brows furrowed in consternation. "Who's this bozo?" one woman demanded.

The man at Sasha's side yanked off his mask, and his expression was that of a child right before a birthday party. "He's with a water park!" he exclaimed, gesturing dramatically at Sasha.

Straightening his back and rolling his shoulder, Sasha nodded. "That's right. Logan Smith, Aqua Spark Amusement Parks."

The others' faces lit up. "Finally!" the woman cried.

"May I speak to...?" Sasha balked, realizing he'd never been given the name of their leader.

"Oh, yeah! Sure! Georg is this way." With a bounce to their steps, the people led Sasha further down the hall. Said hall seemed to be littered with trash, but on closer inspection, the mess consisted of small pool toys.

Something struck him, and he sent a telepathic message to Milla. I've entered the fortress. It was strangely easy.

To his shock, Milla's mental voice was slightly heightened in distress. That's great, darling, but I'm busy at the moment!

Sasha's heart jumped. Are you all right?

I can handle this. Try to find President!

Understood. Sasha frowned—in spite of Milla's insistence, he couldn't help but worry that they'd fallen for a trap. This group couldn't be that simple, could they?

As though reading his mind—can they? Sasha wondered in alarm—one of the men turned to Sasha with a raised eyebrow. "I've never heard of Aqua Spark."

Thinking quickly, Sasha replied, "We're a startup company looking for a place to build our first park. We believe that Country here is an untapped market."

To his relief, the man looked at his fellows with a wide grin. "That's what I've been saying!"

They continued to lead him further down the hall until they reached a doorway guarded by two women. They seemed cautious at first, but Sasha's companions hurried up to them to explain the situation, and they eagerly stepped away, ushering them into the room.

Stepping inside, Sasha found himself in a wide room that was probably once used for war meetings, which now had a banged-up desk shoved in one corner, misaligned with the wall, and a large aquarium in another corner, bearing a few cracks that were patched with duct tape. Said aquarium was devoid of fish, but a woman in a dark suit was bent over it, tossing in diving sticks with mild interest. One sank to the floor of the tank with a shower of bubbles and turned on its side, and the woman gave a cry of disgust, yanking it out of the tank and turning it over until she spotted a number of punctures in it. Hissing a curse, she turned to hurl the stick across the room, and Sasha had to stop himself from reflexively grabbing it with TK to avoid being hit.

Spotting Sasha, the woman paused. "Who are you?"

The first man who'd spoken to Sasha stepped forward. "This man is Logan Smith! He's with a water park!"

Rather than being ecstatic like her henchman, however, the woman frowned, looking Sasha up and down, studying him. Her gaze stopped at his feet, and Sasha stiffened, sweat trickling down the back of his neck. This was bad, this was going to end very badly, he should have told Ford to give him a moment to change his shoes before—

"Well, Mr. Smith..." she began, looking up into his glasses, as he gazed frantically around the windowless room for some sort of escape route. "It seems you share our enthusiasm for water parks! You've even brought your flip-flops!"

The tension in his shoulders eased slightly. "I—yes, of course." He gave a tight nod. "Hearing of your enthusiasm, we knew this would be the perfect place to launch our first theme park."

"That's great news!" the woman cried, throwing an arm around his shoulders. "We were hoping someone like you might show up!"

Please do not.

Realizing her forwardness, she backed off. "But where are my manners—my name is Georgette, but everyone here just calls me Georg." She held out her hand, and Sasha shook it uneasily. "It's great to have you here, Mr. Smith. Have a seat."

Before he could ask where she expected him to sit, one of the henchmen used a pump to inflate a chair, which was then propped up in front of the table. He stared at the chair for a long moment, almost debating remaining standing, before remembering he had a disguise to maintain. He lowered himself into the seat, which squeaked noisily against him. Likewise, Georg took a seat on the other side of the table, sitting on an equally squeaky inflatable chair.

"So!" she began, leaning forward. "Let's hear about your company. I'm all ears."

It took half a moment for Sasha to spin a quick story. "Right. Aqua Spark is a startup water park company in America. We're employing people who have experience building for other parks—Eight Flags, Oak Fair, Queen's Island..."

Georg nodded, her eyes and grin growing wide.

"Of course, there's a great deal of parks there, so we wanted to... make a splash—" Sasha repressed a shudder "—by building our first park here." He jabbed his finger just over the desk for emphasis. "We believe Country is an untapped market, and the perfect spot for a water park."

"Excellent!" Georg cried, clapping her hands together. "We've thought the same thing and have been campaigning for this for years now, but the government won't budge! But with our bargaining chip and with the backing of an amusement park company, there's no way they can turn us down again!"

One of the phrases made Sasha's ears perk. "Bargaining chip?"

"Oh yes, of course." She leaned forward, tilting her head. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, I assume."

"I believe so." Sasha mulled this over in his mind. "Though, I will say, it would look poorly on the company if we worked with you, and it turned out he were harmed."

"Oh! Goodness, no, we wouldn't do that!" Her smile went a bit too wide, her teeth biting down on her lower lip. "He's perfectly safe!" As she spoke, she gave a pointed glance at one of her lackeys, who hurried out the door. She rose to her feet. "But we'll get to that later! First, I wanted to show you some of our own ideas for the park we wanted—"

"Ah, yes," Sasha said, standing and taking a quick glance at the door. "First I'd like to make a quick trip to the restroom."

Georg sighed. "All right. Geoff, please show him the way, and then we can get right back to it."

"Sure thing! This way." The lackey, Geoff, waved him over to the door and began to lead him down the hall. As they walked, Geoff started to ramble. "So what kind of stuff are you planning?"

Sasha was only partially paying attention, scanning to look for the lackey who had left earlier. "We have a number of attraction concepts we're considering," he mumbled. He could definitely hear footsteps up ahead, and he hoped it was the woman who had been sent out. She must have gone to check on President.

"Like what? Oh, I really hope there's gonna be water slides—"

"Yes, of course. We’re planning a... ah... looping slide."

Geoff whirled on him. Sasha froze up, nearly expecting the man to attack, but instead he bore a huge grin.

"Like the one in Adventure Park?!"

Sasha relaxed. "Yes, but, uh... improved."

"Ooooooh man!" The lackey turned around again, continuing to lead him down the hall before stopping at one of the doors. "Here you are, Mr. Smith!"

"Thank you." Hastily, Sasha stepped inside, balking when he realized that the bathroom consisted only of a few reeking outhouses that had been dragged into the room. Steeling himself, he stepped into one, holding his breath, but did not quite close the door. Instead, he put a hand to his temple. Dustpan, this is Shoehorn. I have a lead on where President is.

Milla's mental voice sounded exhausted. That's great, darling.

Are you all right?

For now. Let me know when you find him, and I'll meet with you.

Understood.

Nodding, Sasha activated his invisibility and exited the outhouse, quietly shutting the door behind him. Relieved to be out of that germ-infested place, he crept out of the room, but froze when he realized his sandals were slapping against the stone floor. He was almost certain he had been caught, but he glanced at Geoff, who leaned against the wall. "Oh man..." the lackey was still muttering as Sasha shook his head.

He hated what he was about to do, but he could not levitate while invisible, nor could he risk compromising the mission any further. Reaching down, he slipped his sandals off his feet and held them in his free hand so his socks were now touching the ground, and continued creeping down the hall.

Sure enough, he spotted the woman who had been sent out of the room earlier. She was looking into each room frantically, as though she wasn't sure which room the captive would be in, which struck Sasha as odd. Frowning, he kept a short distance behind her, and at one point she opened one door only to close it with a yelp and lock it, hurrying ahead even more urgently. Sasha made a mental note to check that out later, if he had time—they would notice his absence eventually.

Finally, she turned a corner before reaching the last room in the hall. She opened the door with a key, and looked relieved. Sasha hurried behind her to find a man matching President's description blindfolded, gagged, and bound to a chair in a very, very cluttered room, full of old pool toys and several unlabeled tubs.

Noticing that the woman was about to shut the door, Sasha quickly CV'd into the man, only to bounce back immediately. His face went pale.

Dustpan, he said, exhaustion dragging at his mind, we've got an egg missing from the carton.

Oh dear.

That was putting it mildly. Still, Sasha steeled himself and made a mental map of where he was, projecting it to Milla. Dealing with a debrained target would be difficult, and he'd need all the help he could get.

For a moment he considered following the lackey who had locked the door so he could grab her keys, but his invisibility was already starting to wear off. Instead, he waited for her to turn the corner and psi-blasted the lock, catching it with TK before it could hit the floor. Now that he didn't have to hide it, he transferred his suitcase and sandals to TK as well.

Carefully opening the door, Sasha poked his head in. "President?" he whispered.

"TV...?" came the dreaded, muffled reply.

Sighing, Sasha squeezed into the cramped room and shut the door behind him. Though he knew he wouldn't be understood, he went on, "My name is Sasha Nein. I'm here to help you." With a few quick tugs of telekinesis, he undid the ropes that bound the man to the chair. Another few tugs and the blindfold and gag fell to the floor.

President stared at him seriously. "Puppy."

"Yes, we'll return you to your spouse and dogs as soon as we've found your brain." Sasha regarded the man for a moment—he was somehow more serious-looking than when he had a brain. Otto would have had a field day. "But where to find your brain?"

President continued to stare at him, then pointed a finger in his face. "Prime Minister."

"No, that's you," Sasha said, TKing the man's hand away. "Now, where—"

The doorknob rattled.

Sasha went invisible, ducking behind President's chair. If they'd been caught, then hopefully whoever opened the door to find this scene would assume that the ropes had fallen off of President on their own. Regardless, Sasha prepared for things to go south, placing a hand to his temple.

The door opened slowly, and Sasha tensed.

And then it shut, and before Sasha could wonder what happened, Milla came into view.

"Thank goodness," he breathed, ridding himself of his invisibility again. "It's good to see you again." But when he studied her closer, he frowned; Milla's outfit was roughed up, a few tears visible on the legs. It was rare to see her in such a state. "Are you all right?"

"I'll be fine, darling," Milla said, pulling down her hood partway. "I finally managed to get past those terrible alligators."

"Alligators?" he asked, eyebrows raised, then he shuddered when he remembered what Ford had said earlier. "It seems that bit of intelligence was accurate."

"Yes, they're everywhere." Milla moved some strands of hair out of her face, tucking them behind her ears. "But that's not important right now. Poor President!"

President looked her in the eye. "Dog treats."

"Yes, and we have little time to waste. They'll discover my absence soon."

"But how are we to find his brain? Where could they have put it?" Milla looking out over the mess of tubs of toys. "They don't seem very organized, and they let those awful alligators chew on everything!"

A thought struck Sasha as he recalled the information Ford had given them. "...The tower."

Milla nodded grimly. "Where they keep the alligators... Though it seems now they let those brutes roam everywhere."

Something’s not quite adding up… Sasha shook his head. "Regardless, we've no time to waste. Let's take him with us and get to the tower as soon as possible." He looked down at President and helped him up from the chair. "Time to leave, sir."

"TV. Puppies. Kibble!" the man said with increasing enthusiasm. "Dog treats!" And with no further warning he grabbed one of Sasha's sandals, which he had still been TKing off to the side, and began chewing on it.

Sasha winced back. "Aaaaach...!"

Milla placed a hand on his shoulder. "It will keep him quiet. Now let's go!" Putting up her hood again, she turned to open the door. "Hopefully we haven't been caught y—"

And the hiss of an alligator greeted them, the reptile opening its jaws wide as it sat in front of the door.

"Too late," Sasha grunted. He placed a hand to his temple and fired a psi-blast at the monster, knocking it back into the wall. "Come on!"

"Puppy!" President mumbled around the sandal in his mouth, reaching out toward the incapacitated alligator as Sasha plucked him up with TK.

Milla activated her invisibility, and Sasha led her down the hall, mentally mapping out the place. The tower they were headed for was on the western side of the building opposite of where they were, so they would have to be fast. Since their cover had already been blown, Sasha went into full-blown levitation, blasting down the hall.

As they passed one door—the door the lackey had checked and locked earlier—it began to rattle before bursting open off its hinges, and several more alligators scrambled out after them. "Doggies!" President mumbled in delight, while Sasha moved even faster.

Turning a corner, he spotted Geoff, still standing outside the bathroom. The lackey looked up at him in surprise. "Woah! Mr. Smith? What's going on? Isn't that Prez?"

Is he not aware? Regardless, Sasha did not answer, blasting past him. Before Geoff had time to question him again, the alligators turned the corner, and he let out a scream, bolting away.

They're afraid of their own guard dogs? Milla asked.

It seems so, but now's not the time to question it.

They continued through the building, any lackeys they discovered fleeing the second they saw the alligators giving chase, with some of the gators even pursuing them. Sasha was nearly relieved until another alligator burst out of a door ahead of him, its snout bearing a scorch mark, much like the one he'd psi-blasted earlier.

"What—how?!" Sasha cried.

As if on cue, several more gators suddenly appeared just ahead—literally, spawning out of mid-air.

That was it—they were teleporting. Perhaps that was why the people here didn't seem to be in control of them—the gators were as much of a problem to the criminals as they were to them.

Looking over the swarm of hissing alligators, Sasha frowned. We cannot teleport, but we can levitate! Get ready.

Ready when you are, darling!

The alligators continued to hiss before one of them charged, the others following suit.

NOW!

Sasha and the still-invisible Milla leaped into the air, levitating over the alligators. A few raised their heads and snapped at them, but they managed to clear the swarm, landing on the other side and resuming their charge through the fortress. Several of the gators hissed, giving chase, but a few more were distracted by the lackeys that stepped out of their rooms to panic.

Finally, Sasha came upon what he was looking for—a stairwell. With a motion to Milla, he hovered into it, ascending the narrow, spiraling stairs while the gators scrambled up after them. Milla and Sasha had the advantage here, and managed to reach the top before the gators could.

The room shouldn't be far from here, Sasha said, glancing to his side. He was somewhat surprised to find Milla visible again, but even with the equipment she had, it wasn't easy to stay invisible for an extended period, especially not when using other powers. Meanwhile, the alligators were nearing the top of the stairs, the one at the lead opening its mouth wide. With a well-aimed psi-blast, it was sent tumbling backward, knocking into the other reptiles and sending them all crashing down the spiral stairs.

That may or may not buy us some time, depending on if they decide to teleport again. Now to find...

This way! Milla cried, charging forward with a burst of levitation. Sasha followed, and they soon found themselves approaching another door, this one sealed with a giant padlock. One psi-blast later, the lock was smoldering on the ground, and they opened the door.

They found themselves in a circular room with a large circular grate raised up in the center. Sasha and Milla exchanged glances before grabbing it with telekinesis and heaving it up and off to the side.

As Sasha finally set President down, he leaned over the hole and opened his mouth. "Teeeveeeee!" he called, his voice echoing as the sandal he'd been holding in his mouth dropped down, down, down.

"No—!" Sasha cried, but before he could react, there was a splash, followed by the snapping of alligator jaws. He heaved a long, deep sigh, looking down. "More alligators."

There were two alligators swimming in the water far below, and in the midst of them was a small pedestal, upon which sat a glass covering. The pedestal had a large "NO TOUCH" sign attached, while the covering was labeled "PREZ."

And sitting within the glass was a human brain.

"There it is," Sasha and Milla found themselves saying together, and Sasha looked up. "I'll get it."

"No, you watch President," Milla said with a wink. "Leave this to the levitation expert."

"Fair enough."

With that, Milla raised herself up off the floor and down into the shaft, nearly upside-down as she reached out toward the glass jar. The alligators hissed up at her, swimming in circles beneath her like aquatic vultures, but she paid them no mind.

"Squeaky toy," President said, frowning down at his own brain as Milla TK'd the glass away.

"Stay put..." Sasha said, holding a hand in front of President as he watched Milla. She was raising the brain upward, drawing it closer to her hands.

At once there was a flash of psychic energy, and one of the alligators from below was up in the air in the middle of the shaft, snapping at Milla as it fell down toward her. She let out a startled cry, backing up against the wall of the shaft as the alligator teleported again, this time falling closer.

"Milla!" Sasha cried. His fear and fury took the form of raw psychic energy, blasting forward into the alligator. It slammed against the wall, skidding back down into the water. Before either of them had time to celebrate, the second alligator teleported higher up in the shaft, jaws focused on President's brain.

In a sudden stab of frustration, Sasha took his remaining sandal that he'd been TKing off to his side, and chucked it into the alligator's mouth. The reptile's jaws snapped shut, and it began to wheeze and choke as it plummeted back down into the water. Eventually, it spat up the mangled sandal and swam down into the water with an indignant flip of its tail, its slightly-scorched companion following suit.

With a sigh of relief, Milla levitated the rest of the way up the shaft, landing next to Sasha. "Thank you, darling."

"Thank me later," Sasha said, already opening up his briefcase and pulling out a funnel. He turned to face President. "Stay still, sir."

President was still frowning at his own brain. "Chew toy," he said with a look of disgust.

Sighing, Sasha took the brain from Milla and TK'd the funnel over to President's ear. "Hold him still, please."

Milla held the President with TK as Sasha forced the brain into the wider end of the funnel, shoving it inward until it slipped into the Prime Minister's empty head.

President staggered back as Sasha removed the funnel, the man's eyes rolling and blinking several times before coming into focus. "Wh... where am I?" he stammered, looking at Sasha and Milla in bewilderment. "Where are my dogs?!" He looked all around the room, his movements becoming more and more frantic. "Spot? Daisy? LEONARD?!"

Sasha grit his teeth, looking out the door to make sure they weren't going to get jumped on, while Milla bent down, shushing the man. "It's all right, Prime Minister President. You've been kidnapped and debrained, and we've just recovered your brain."

"Is... is that true?" Prez asked, rubbing his head. "That would explain my headache... Also, just Prez is fine."

"There's no time for questions. We're bound to be discovered at any moment, and we need to get out of here." Looking up and down the hallway, Sasha noted that any windows he could see were barred. "Milla, where was the entrance you came in from?"

"Not that way," she said. "It was crawling with alligators!"

Prez chuckled, and Sasha frowned. "Noted. We'll have to go back through the main entrance. Hurry!"

With that, the three charged back toward the stairs they'd ascended. The stairwell was empty, but to save time, Sasha grabbed Prez with TK once again as he and Milla levitated down the stairs.

"Woah!" Prez cried, eyes wide. "You're some a' them psychics!"

"Indeed, and it seems the alligators here are, too," Sasha replied, and Prez's brows knit in confusion. Once Sasha touched down on the floor, he took off in a burst of levitation down the hall, which was deserted. "We're nearly there. We just need to make it outside!"

The courtyard was in sight. Sasha and Milla both put on a burst of speed, feeling a great relief that their mission was nearing its end.

And with several puffs of green psychic energy, a dozen hissing alligators filled the courtyard, surrounding them.

"Not this again!" the three of them said simultaneously, and Sasha and Milla briefly gave Prez a look of confusion.

"I'll need all concentration on my psychic powers," Sasha said, dropping in his levitation to the ground in a psychic attack pose and setting Prez down. "Stay between me and Milla!"

As the alligators pressed in closer, Sasha and Milla both fired blue and pink psi-blasts respectively at the reptiles. While he could hear one be struck by Milla's attack, the one he'd fired at disappeared again. Whipping his head around, he searched for the missing gator, only to realize a shadow was falling over him. With a cry, he staggered out of the way, only for his feet to slip against the slick grass and send him crashing down on his back. The alligator landed in front of him, hissing, and more were closing in behind him and to the sides.

Before he could do anything else, however, there was a deafening chorus of barking from somewhere behind him. All the alligators looked up, and began to scramble away as a pack of enormous white dogs came charging into the courtyard. They howled and snarled as they chased the reptiles away from Sasha and the others, until the gators gave up, disappearing as quickly as they'd appeared.

"Daisy!" Prez cried, holding out his arms. "Spot! Leonard! Barkley!"

Any other names he called were drowned out by the sound of elated barking and whining as he was surrounded by the pack of dogs, who all jumped over each other at the chance to lick his face.

Milla pulled her hood back, wiping at her brow. "That was a close one..." With an invisible psychic hand, she helped Sasha to his feet. He dusted himself off, for all the good it would do.

"Indeed," he said, looking back toward the entrance. "I presume these aren't K-9 units..."

"Nah, those are probably on gator duty," Prez said, squeezing his way out from the swarm of samoyeds. "C'mon, let's get out of here!"

With that, the group stepped out of the fortress, the dogs cheerfully surrounding them. Milla couldn't resist the urge to pet one of them, and it leaned into her touch, tongue lolling.

Outside, the police seemed preoccupied with handcuffing a number of criminals, including Georg and Geoff. The former looked furious, while Geoff looked out toward Sasha with his lower lip wobbling. "N... no looping water slide?" he whimpered, eyes shining with tears.

"I'm afraid not," Sasha said, replacing his name tag with his Psychonaut badge. "This place seems ill-suited for water parks regardless."

"How did you capture them all?" Milla asked, looking toward the chief officer. "How could you have known we'd already rescued the Prime Minister and his brain?"

"We didn't," the officer said with a shrug. "These guys came runnin' out 'cause of the gators."

Prez let out a hearty laugh. "That's a real shocker!"

"Prez!" Another person came bolting through the crowd—someone Sasha identified as the man's spouse. They threw their arms around him in a tight hug. "I'm so glad you're all right! We were so worried about you, and I couldn't leave the dogs..."

"I'm fine! Thanks to the dogs, actually. And these guys too, of course." He waved a hand at Sasha and Milla.

Something had been nagging at the back of Sasha's head, and he hovered over to Prez, frowning. "Please excuse me for interrupting this moment, but I must ask." He waited for Prez to step away from his spouse and face him before continuing: "You seem to have a very serious problem with psychic alligators here. Why have you not called upon the Psychonauts for help with this?"

Prez, his spouse, and several of the police officers turned to give him bewildered looks. "Yeaaah, you mentioned that before," the Prime Minister said, crossing his arms. "How do you know they're psychic, though?"

Sasha balked. Had Prez been blind to what had just happened moments ago? "They can teleport, sir."

The man's face broke into a smile. "Yeah, and fish can swim! What's your point?"

Sasha glanced back at Milla, who was laughing. "Alligators don't normally have that ability."

Prez began laughing again, but stopped when Sasha did not join in. "Wait, you're serious?"

"Indeed," Sasha replied, suddenly feeling even more tired than he had before. "We can arrange to send a zoolepathy expert here to begin work on this issue, if you like."

"Uh. Yeah!" Prez blinked. "Yeah, that'd be great! Honestly, they're sorta the reason we couldn't build a water park here in the first place."

"WHAT?!" Georg cried some distance away, as a police carted her off with the rest of her lackeys.

Meanwhile, the police chief nodded. "If that's true, we'll send for one of you again."

As Sasha rubbed his temples, Milla stepped forward. "As for us, it looks like our work here is done."

"Right!" Prez rushed up to Milla and shook her hand before repeating the gesture with Sasha. "Thanks for your help!"

"And with that, we must be on our way." Finally, Sasha began hovering away from the crowd, back toward where they'd parked and cloaked the jet. Milla followed suit, waving to Prez and the others as they went their separate ways.

Once out of view of the crowd, they both dipped slightly in their respective hovers. Milla gave Sasha a tired smile, and he returned it.

"This has been quite the day," he admitted.

"Yes, but at least it's over now, darling."

Soon they were back onboard the Pelican and en-route back to Whispering Rock. While Milla stepped back toward the restroom, Sasha tapped a few buttons on the console and leaned back in his chair.

"This is Grease Jar," Ford's voice crackled over the radio. "What's the word?"

"The criminal group has been apprehended and Prez's brain and body rescued."

"Excellent work!"

"That said, it seems the Psychonauts are not yet done aiding Country. They seem to have an infestation of psychic—"

"ALLIGATOR!" Milla cried from the back.

"Pretty sure there's supposed to be an 's' at the end for the plural..." Ford grumbled, but Sasha was barely listening, rushing to the back to find Milla backing away from the bathroom in horror.

An enormous alligator stood over the toilet, where a large clutch of rubbery eggs sat within.

It was going to be a very, very long flight.

[bcdrawsandwrites]

[ID: The first image Psychonauts fanfic banner on a black-to-gray gradient background. On the left in white text it says “Prompt #7: What Have I Done?” On the right is a bright red animated figment of an open Psycho-Portal with scribbles inside.

The second image is a Bad Things Happen Bingo card. Various prompts are marked with a half-brain (prompt requested but not filled) or full-brain (prompt requested and finished) symbol, while the “What Have I Done” prompt specifically is marked with a full brain symbol. /end ID]

And now after NOT taking multiple months, here’s the next fic in my @badthingshappenbingo challenge!

I am currently NO LONGER OPEN FOR REQUESTS. I have enough to work on to get a bingo! I MAY decide to reopen prompts later if I want to keep going after finishing these fics, but for now, requests are closed!

This prompt requested by @jaywings, who also beta-read, as did @portalcartoon! (Also thanks to @mechmolar who's been animating my gif frames since Photoshop stopped working for me.)

Prompt: What Have I Done Characters: Ford Cruller, Lucrecia Mux, other Psychic 7 members Warnings: Implied death/murder, implied drug use

---~~~---

The first time Ford sees her on that warm summer night, the rest of the world turns fuzzy. Her eyes catch his immediately, and his heart flutters, his face flushing. She hasn't even spoken yet, and already something about her is making him smile like an idiot. It takes him a moment to realize Otto has been talking. With a jolt and a stutter he asks Otto to repeat his words, but his friend's voice only fades into the background once again, and Ford's gaze is on her once more.

He can't help but notice, she's smiling too.

—-

Otto is saying something, but he can't hear him. The world has turned fuzzy, and all he can see is Lucy's smiling face in the photograph on the table, and the letter in his shaking hands.

—-

The first time Ford sees her powers, he can only stare in awe. His and Otto's attempts at hydrokinesis had resulted in mere bubbles and splashes, which they'd had fun fooling around with, splashing each other when one wasn't looking.

Lucy is not fooling around. With a mere thought, she commands the water as though it were an extension of her outstretched hand. She moves with grace and precision, yet with enough power that their previous mining efforts are dwarfed in comparison. Massive waves wash away dirt and stone and other minerals and draw heaps of glowing crystals to their feet, leaving not a droplet behind.

—-

Bob and Helmut link trembling hands, and a nearby vine beckons Ford nearer.

The television screen is small and colorless, and the figure in the distance is barely discernible. But her command of water is unmistakable, even though it is people, not stones, that it brings to her feet.

—-

The first time Ford enters Lucy's mind is among one of the first times he has ever entered a mind. It is frightening yet fascinating as he sets foot on a giant quilt that undulates like gentle ocean waves. Buildings made of patchwork resemble a town from a faraway place, like something out of a picture book. Though he is attacked by the same small creatures he had seen in Otto's mind, this world is vastly different. Some of it is locked away to him, however, and he urges Lucy to open her mind more, eager to explore this uncharted territory.

—-

They have explored the Gulch, their psychic powers, and each other's minds, but the war room is entirely uncharted territory. The government was never supposed to be involved, and yet here were politicians representing every country Ford had ever known and then some, all of them begging their little friend group to please do something. They speak of the horrors this "monster" has committed, and one points out that they have no idea what she will do next.

But they say that Ford and his group of psychic heroes—surely they must know what lies in the mind of this madwoman.

Ford and the others exchange worried glances. He knows what he put into her mind... but none of them know what has happened to it now.

—-

When Ford continually pushes Lucy to open up more, he feels no deep worry or fear. Over the years they'd known each other, they had explored each other's minds, probing into the depths, looking for what new wonders there were to find.

Memory Vaults remain open, frolicking through the mindscape with their mouths agape. Exposure to certain substances sooth Doubts and Regrets and make Censors sluggish to act, allowing for more ease of exploration. New doors open, allowing for more and more depths to explore.

In spite of her dulled inhibitors, Lucy expresses her fear sometimes, unsure if they're pushing each other too far. But Ford assures her that all is safe, here. Nothing can reach them here in the Gulch, and he puts her hands in his own, assuring her that she can trust him.

They are far from any troubles.

—-

The helicopter takes them far, far from the Gulch. The ride is silent and tense, no one saying a word, even over telepathy—or none of them speak to Ford, anyway. Bob and Helmut stare at their interlinked hands, Cassie and Compton huddle close, and Otto looks blankly ahead, his face unreadable.

None of them meet his gaze.

—-

Her horrified gasp shatters their peaceful morning. Lucy stares at the newspaper for an eternity before it drops from her shaking hands, and her sister's name leaves her trembling lips.

Ford's immediate thought is to comfort and reassure her, but she's already packing her bags, deaf to his words.

His words of comfort soon turn to pleas to stay—everything's changing too fast. Their minds are different. She doesn't know what will happen. (He doesn't know what will happen.) But she insists that she must leave, she must help her sister, and nothing he can say will sway her.

It's when she leaves, taking off riding on a wave, that it strikes him that they'd never taken the time to close up their minds. But he tries to reassure himself—he knows her. She won't let anything harmful into her mind, and they'll see each other again, once this is all over.

—-

The first time Ford sees Maligula, he does not recognize her. He's not alone, as all of them stare at her in horror, wondering at the identity of this monster standing before them.

It's not until Bob calls out to everyone that this is Lucy—that this is their friend—that recognition sets in, and nearly brings Ford to his knees. This is it—this was Lucy who brought those people to her feet, who wiped this country off the map, who let this terrible darkness into her heart—or out of it.

...But she hadn't done that alone.

It was Ford who had begged her to open those doors in her mind in the first place.

And he stands before Maligula, a single horrified thought running through his mind:

What have I done?

[bcdrawsandwrites]

[ID: The first image Psychonauts fanfic banner on a black-to-gray gradient background. On the left in white text it says “Prompt #5: Never Be Hurt Again” On the right is a light blue animated figment of a scaler (a long metal dental tool with thin hooks on either end).

The second image is a Bad Things Happen Bingo card. Various prompts are marked with a half-brain (prompt requested but not filled) or full-brain (prompt requested and finished) symbol, while the “Never Be Hurt Again” prompt specifically is marked with a full brain symbol. /end ID]

Okay I keep forgetting to post this, but I thought of it just now so I’m finally taking an opportunity to get this posted! Here is, FINALLY, my next fic for my @badthingshappenbingo​ challenge! \

I am currently NO LONGER OPEN FOR REQUESTS. I have enough to work on to get a bingo! I MAY decide to reopen prompts later if I want to keep going after finishing these fics, but for now, requests are closed!

This request is for @loveandmad​! Hope you enjoy it! Also big thanks to @jaywings​ and Pinky G Rocket for beta-reading.

Prompt: Never Be Hurt Again Characters: Caligosto Loboto, his parents, and various OCs for his backstory Warnings: Emotional manipulation/parental abuse, (SPOILERS: implied dental torture)

---~~~---

Traffic honked and wailed in the streets below his window. It was not the city he had been in originally, the one that his parents sent him to a few years ago; he had chosen this city.

—~~~—

"Stoneton?" Caligosto looked from the pen in his father's outstretched hand to the application on the kitchen table. "That's on the other side of the country."

"Yes, but it's a very good city," his mother replied, with the same enthusiasm she'd used to talk about the "very good highschool" or the "very good summer camp" that he'd been forced into in the past, that he still had nightmares about.

"I don't know..."

"Look, son, we're doing you a favor!" His father slammed the pen onto the table. "You want dental school? Here it is. We're offering to pay for your tuition!"

"Your father is willing to give up the money he was putting toward his second yacht! We're making a personal sacrifice for you!" His mother looked away. "I don't know how we managed to raise such an ungrateful child..."

"No, no! It's not that—"

"We're doing this for you, son! You want to live your dream of becoming a dentist, we're letting you do that!"

You never wanted to before, Caligosto wanted to say, but the words retreated back down his throat. To live his dream... he couldn't let this slip away. He stared down at the application again, then grabbed the pen, the yellow gleam of the kitchen light glinting off its metal surface.

—~~~—

Light danced on the tip of the hook as he turned the scaler in his hands. He stared at it, feeling its weight in his palm, remembering the last time he'd used it.

His fingers clenched around it, knuckles white beneath the glove.

—~~~—

The room was a blinding white and silver, save for the dull gray chairs and the dummy heads strapped to them. The heads were painted in flesh tones, faceless save for gaping mouths with complete sets of teeth. Many of his classmates had shied away from these at first, but Caligosto had always rushed to his assigned dummy, half his mind giddy with the thought of finally getting to practice, and the other half with the thought of his parents seeing him as a successful dentist.

He held the scaler down toward the dummy, ready to practice methods of scraping plaque from teeth, when his professor strolled by.

"Now, you'll probably deal with patients who put up a fight," she stated. "Some patients will struggle and squirm. Some may try to bite."

Of course, they'd gone over this before. This professor had always liked to make a show of taking off her glove and revealing a scar one of her own patients had left on her hand. So he nodded along, continuing to move the hook between the fake teeth, digging gently into the silicone gums.

"But you may even have patients who are... unnatural, so to speak."

He paused.

She strode toward a cabinet in the back of the lab as she spoke. "Of course, you need special methods when dealing with them. There are certain tools we have in the medical profession to deal with them, which I'll show you in a moment." She glanced over her students with a glint in her eye.

Slowly he looked back down at the dummy, unsure of why his hands were going numb.

"They're known for all sorts of tricks," she went on, turning to open the cabinet. "They can dismantle your tools with just a look!"

His hand twitched, leaving a small scratch on a fake tooth.

"Or they could reach out and infect you with a deadly virus, just by their touch..."

He gripped the scaler, his knuckles turning white.

"Even if they don't touch you, some can reach out with an invisible hand and change your future, just enough to bring you misfortune!" Finally she turned around with a strange pair of earmuffs in her hand, and something about the sight of them sent a jolt up his spine and caused his chest to burn, and he jumped away from his dummy. His professor didn’t notice as she continued, "That's why—"

"Th-that's not true."

He suddenly became aware that everyone was staring at him, and that his professor's grin had fallen. "Pardon?"

It was too late to back down, so he straightened his back. "They can't dismantle something instantly. They can do it without their hands, but they still need to pull it apart. And there's no psychic power that can cause illness, unless they're spinning you around like a ferris wheel!" He snorted. "And if they could change their future, wouldn't we see a lot more of them winning the lotter—"

"Stop."

He shut his mouth, but his eyes were locked on the earmuffs she held, and he wasn't sure why the sight of them was making him tremble.

The professor approached him, her gaze dark. "Are you defending these mentalists, Loboto?"

"Wh-what?!" he sputtered, head snapping up. "No! I just—"

She got in his face, and he swore he could feel some form of terrible, familiar energy from the earmuffs in her hands. "Never in my class would I ever have expected to encounter a psychic sympathizer!"

The phrase turned his stomach to ice and lit his head ablaze—outraged that she would accuse him of such, and horrified by the implications.

It wasn’t the last time he would hear it, or even worse terms that he didn’t like to think about.

They came up during a meeting with the dean regarding his dismissal from the college. They were spat upon him when he tried to apply for jobs in the area as he scrambled to find his footing. They were hissed at him from former classmates who had once gotten along with him.

The term was even snarled at him over the phone, when he contacted the last two people he could think of for help.

“Psychic sympathizer.”

—~~~—

The shriek of metal on glass brought him out of the memory, and he stared down at the faint scratch across his window.

After taking a moment to unclench his jaw, to breathe, to set the tool aside onto its cart, he turned away from the window and strode across the dark room. There was no point in reflecting on those memories, those terrible manglings of his character, those people who chased him away from what had felt like the one chance of ever achieving his dream. They were behind him now.

But his foot nudged a book that stuck out from the lowest shelf, and he reached down to adjust it, frowning when he noted the misaligned printing on the spine.

—~~~—

Caligosto plucked up the book, flipped through it, picked off the sticker, and slipped it into his jacket. It had gotten easier after the first several times; his hands no longer shook, though his nerves still fluttered in his chest. After browsing through the shop for another quarter hour, he shrugged and trotted out, bidding the owner good-day as he headed back to his apartment to plot his next course of action.

The book, while a measly paperback, was a signed copy, and would surely yield him enough money to cover the rest of this month's rent, which was due in two days. He just needed to choose the next store carefully—one he hadn't been to in a while. There was Jamie's down the road, but he'd just sold a set of pilfered baseball cards there a week ago. He hadn't been to the one on 5th and Maple in a while, but it was closed today... Ah, right, the one another town over—he hadn't been there in a couple months, so that one should be all right. It would be a bit of a hike, but it would be worth it.

So he made the trip, which ate up a chunk of his day, clutching the book under his jacket. Just one more time, and he would be set for another month—another month to figure out how to get out of this dump.

"Got a good one for you this time!" Puffing up his chest, he slapped the book onto the counter. The force at which he'd done it had caused the binding to come somewhat loose, and he fought the urge to wince, hoping the man wouldn't notice. "It's a signed copy, you see?"

The shop owner slid the book closer to himself, lifting it up and turning it this way and that, studying it through narrowed eyes.

Even though he'd gotten away with it before, the sweat still trickled down his back as he awaited the man's evaluation. Maybe he could settle for a lower price if the shopkeeper wasn't willing to pay what it was worth—just so long as he could cover his rent, that was all he needed—

The man huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "Not a signed copy," he remarked. "It's a photocopy." He'd pointed out the spine, which, now that he looked more closely, didn't even have the title aligned, part of it folding over onto the back cover of the book. When the man opened it, his finger traced the margins, which didn't line up with the edges of the pages. He set the book back on the counter, giving him an unpleasant grin, one with poorly-placed veneers, revealing the blackened teeth between where the porcelain didn't line up with the gums. "I'll give you two bucks."

He trembled all over, the blood rushing from his face, before his mouth twisted. "I hope you choke on your own rotten teeth!" He snatched the book before storming out.

His trek back to his apartment was made in a blind, numb haze, his stomach sinking as he wondered just how he could word a plea to his landlord to allow him another week to pay the rent. If his landlord would even allow that, if his landlord hadn't already heard the gossip being spread about him.

The thoughts left him the second a hand grabbed his arm and yanked him behind a building. His mind clicked into self-preservation mode while some voice screamed in the back of his head that this was it, someone had caught him, or someone had heard the rumors and come after him—

"C-Caligosto, is that you?"

He found himself staring at a young man with a frightened, pale face, and dark circles under his eyes. At first he narrowed his eyes at him, prepared to bolt, only to realize he recognized the man's messy orange hair, though it was a lot messier than the last time he'd seen it.

"...Bower," he said slowly, yanking his arm away. He'd shared a few classes with the student during his short time at the university. "What do you want?"

"Help," Bower choked, huddling in on himself. "I... I just need your help with—"

"I haven't been a student in months, in case you haven't noticed," he said, voice dripping in bitterness.

"Yes, exactly, that's exactly why I need your help!"

He stared at him. "What."

"Everyone avoids you, so—so... no one would know!" A manic smile stretched across Bower’s face as he spread out his sweaty hands.

"...No one would know what?"

"Look, I-I kinda owe someone some money—"

"You're talking to the wrong person."

He turned away, but Bower caught him by the shoulder and turned him back around. Jerking his arm away, he grit his teeth and glared down at the man, who held up his hands.

"I owe them a lot of money! And—and if you can help me get some, I'll give you half."

He opened his mouth to protest, and closed it, looking away as he mulled things over. "Do you have a plan of some sort?"

"I-I do. But it's risky, and I need help. And after that, you never have to speak to me again!"

"...You never spoke to me anyway."

"Look, I know, just—please, just this once?"

Deep down, he could feel something—something telling him it was nice to feel needed. Not to mention, he did need the money on short notice.

He steeled himself. "All right. What's the plan?"

—~~~—

He shook his head. While it had been the moment to launch him into his current career, he'd been foolish to think that he'd been needed by that idiot. No, Bower hadn't needed him specifically. If he'd refused, he would've found someone else. No, Bower had used him, and had been planning on keeping all the money for himself, if he could get away with it (which he hadn't—as he'd predicted, Bower had gotten caught by the police, and ratted him out, but he'd been long gone by the time they'd come looking for him).

He'd been free.

—~~~—

With his few possessions in a duffel bag hanging on his shoulder, Loboto strolled down the sidewalk of the new town, which looked brighter and more promising than his old college town ever had.

It would be a new leaf for him. Perhaps he could forge a license and start a dentist practice, if not here, then somewhere further out. The robbery had given him more than enough money to rent a new apartment for the rest of the year, so housing wouldn't be a problem for a while. Just so long as he could find a job to start with...

He stopped at the bulletin board, perusing the job postings and skimming past event fliers. He wasn't terribly picky, so long as it was something that could pay for rent and still have some left over for food and savings��

A pair of familiar glasses caught his eye, and his blood ran cold.

Wanted: Caligosto Loboto.

His teeth grit so hard they nearly cracked, he tore the poster from the board, and ran.

—~~~—

...It was better now.

The police hadn't found him, of course. Never, in the past few years of his career, though they'd searched. Oh, they'd searched, and he'd had to move again later, but it was all good now.

Especially since his new client had opened up a world of new possibilities to him.

—~~~—

Loboto found her staring at the tools, still in pristine condition, arranged on the shelves. "Interested in those, are we?" He tipped his head. "Do you need some dental work done?"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than his heart began to flutter in excitement, and he perked up. "I know you're here for business, but if you ever need some work done on your pearly whites, I can—"

Nora held up a finger. "I'm just here for business."

His heart and hopes dropped to the floor, and his shoulders drooped. "Yeah, of course."

Yet she was still looking over the tools, eyes narrowed. Without a word she picked up a dental hook, pressing it into one of her fingers until it drew blood.

"Hey!" he cried. "You should be wearing gloves—"

"These tools, Cal," she said quickly, rubbing the finger she'd pricked against her thumb, smearing the blood. "They look like they would hurt."

Grumbling, he snatched the hook away and hunted for a bottle of cleaning alcohol and a cloth. "No," he said absently, stooping down to snatch up a bottle. "In the right hands, the procedures can be mildly unpleasant at worst."

As he disinfected the tool, Nora reached out to him. "So could those same hands..." She gently grabbed one of his palms, and he yanked his hand away, shooting a glare at her. "...make them hurt?"

He stared at her.

"Perhaps, enough for a patient to beg, to plead, to give whatever information you want?"

Loboto held the hook away from her, but hesitated a moment. "...Why do you ask?"

Nora stepped back, regarding the tools on the shelves. "It doesn't look like they've seen much use, and it would be a shame for them to go to waste."

—~~~—

His hands shook, in spite of his smile.

This was it. He was finally going to see his dream come true—perhaps not in the way he'd originally planned, but that's the fun of it, isn't it? He was past all of that nonsense—his parents and professors and even the police trying to control him, trying to get in the way of his goals.

His dreams were coming true. He was finally, finally getting to put his skills to use. And no one was going to convince him otherwise.

"Cal!" a harsh voice called from the room he'd remade into a new "dentist's office." "Your patient isn't cooperating. Get in here!"

"Right away!" he called in return, wheeling his cart into the room.

On the other side of the room was his client, Nora, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. And before her, strapped to the dental chair, was his patient. Both his mouth and eyes were wide, the former from a mouth prop forcing his jaw open, and the latter from terror.

Loboto looked him over, selecting the scaler from his cart and fighting to keep his hand from shaking. He looked from the patient's teeth and gums, then to Nora, who nodded impatiently at him. He stared down at the pointed tip of the tool in his trembling hand—one of many tools that hadn't seen use since his college days.

"Get on with it," Nora hissed.

He clenched the tool, forcing his hand to still, and aimed it at the patient's gums, grinning down into his terrified eyes. "Say aaah!" he said, and jabbed.

[bcdrawsandwrites]

I just wanted to give a quick update on things, since I haven’t been posting much lately. I’m trying to find my focus around all the recent changes in my life, and it’s a challenge. But here’s what I’m working on as far as Psychonauts fanworks goes:

Bingo fics. I didn’t forget about these! I’m currently working on editing “Never Be Hurt Again” and writing “Organ Theft.” 

Various oneshots. I have a few different Psychonauts oneshots I’m working on, some closer to completion than others. You saw one of them get posted recently, and more may eventually follow in the future.

Alt-timeline AU fic. This is one I started back before Psychonauts 2 came out. It wasn’t originally going to be an alternate timeline, but it wound up diverging so much from what Psychonauts 2 established as the history of the Psychonauts that I basically have to make it an AU or else scrap it altogether. I’m several chapters in, but I need to go back and rework parts of them to include the Psychic 7, as they need to be there and I’ve really been wanting to write them.

NEW SECRET FIC PROJECT. A few of you already know what this one is, but for those who don’t, it’s something completely different from ANYTHING I’ve ever written before, in a genre I never expected I’d be writing in. (No, not romance, and not anything edgy.) I’ve finished the first chapter of it, but I won’t be posting it until I’m several more chapters in and am sure I want to be dedicated to it, since I hate leaving fics unfinished.

Oleander-centric comic. I have an Oleander-centric comic I started working on last year that I want to finish. I have the first panel of it posted somewhere on this blog (that’s not my being mysterious--I just legit can’t remember where the post is), but that’s all I’ll say about it for now. I really miss working on comics, so I’d like to get back to work on this.

Kid!Loboto illustration. Oh gosh I started this illustration AGES ago and really just need to sit down and finish it. The flat colors are done, it just needs to be rendered.

That’s... roughly it, I think, other than that one Ford comic (which I’ve also posted a panel from here), which I’m not sure is going to get done. We’ll see.

So yeah, that’s what I have lined up for Psychonauts stuff. (For those still waiting on For Unity, once again, it’s not abandoned! It’ll get finished once I’m ready to swing back into Dark Crystal stuff.)

[bcdrawsandwrites]

[ID: A Bad Things Happen Bingo card. Various prompts are marked with a half-brain symbol, while the “This Is for Your Own Good” specifically is marked with a full brain symbol. /end ID]

OKAY! So here’s my first fic for my second @badthingshappenbingo​​ challenge!

Note that at the time of my posting this, I am still open for requests--if you want to request something from me, please go to the post linked in my pinned post and read the rules!

This one was requested by @wulverarctos​​!

[ID: A Psychonauts fanfic banner on a black-to-gray gradient background. On the left in white text it says “Prompt #1: This Is for Your Own Good.” On the right is an animated yellow figment of Loboto’s teddybear with a pair of electroshock electrodes (which look vaguely like a pair of headphones with a wire coming off the top center) on his head. /end ID]

Prompt: This Is for Your Own Good Characters: Fred Bonaparte & Caligosto Loboto, pre-Psychonauts (orderly!Fred and patient!Loboto) Warnings: Choking, discussion of electroshock therapy

---~~~---

Cool air whistled through the open windows at the end of the hallway, the moon outside providing the faintest illumination in the otherwise dark asylum. The weighty, metal flashlight Fred wielded could have brought more light, but he knew from experience there wasn't much to see. He'd walked these halls more than enough times to be able to do it blindfolded.

Stopping by the last door, he peered through the small slot. Once again, thanks to the clear night, he was able to tell just from the meager light shining through the windows that each patient in the room was in their respective bed. One was tossing and turning, but she was still on her bed and under the sheets.

Fred wished he could say the same for himself. He covered his mouth, letting out a muted yawn. He was done with his nightly rounds now, at least, so it wouldn't be long now for him.

Strolling to the end of the hall, he ducked down to peer through the window. At first he smiled up at the clear night sky, only for his brows to knit when he realized just why so much light was pouring into the hallway.

A full moon.

The hair raised on the back of his neck, and he shuddered, straightening his back. Years ago he'd laughed off the whole "things happen on the night of a full moon" saying as superstition... and then he'd become an orderly.

But nothing had happened tonight—nothing yet, anyway. Every patient who wasn't scheduled for treatment was in their bed, and the asylum was peaceful.

...Well, if you ignored the constant creaking of the building, the squeaking of stretcher wheels, and the occasional moan and groan from one or seven of the patients at any given time. But those didn't count.

Fred breathed in the night air and nodded. Yes, it was a perfectly normal night—the moon just happened to be full, that was all. And he'd finished his duties for tonight, so finally he could get some shut-eye and—

A shriek pierced straight through the asylum, up from the lower floors, causing Fred to jump so high he nearly hit the ceiling. A cacophony of shouts and yells immediately followed, and Fred took half a second to let out an exasperated whine.

So much for sleep.

Any more self-pitying could wait. He was right by the stairwell, and his long legs made quick work of it, carrying him down toward the source of the noise. But the second he realized just where it was originating from, he screwed up his face.

Not here.

Steeling himself, he opened the door and ducked through it, only to reel back and bash his head against the frame at the sight before him.

"LET GO! LET GO!"

"Get him off!"

Within the cramped room with its single bed, desk, and an electroconvulsive therapy machine were a doctor, three nurses, and a patient that Fred was all too familiar with. The patient was in a strait jacket and a shower cap, and the doctor and two of the nurses were trying and failing to pull him away from the third nurse, whose hand the patient was biting down onto. Fred didn't need to ask a single question to know why this had occurred.

The doctor, seeing Fred rubbing the back of his head in the doorway, growled through gritted teeth, "Bonaparte! Do something!"

"I-I got it, I got it—" he stammered, taking a half step further into the cramped room. Immediately the patient swung his weird mechanical eyes up toward him, his brow furrowed, red and green lights clashing with the dim yellow bulb overhead, daring Fred to oppose him.

Fred glanced back at the ECT machine, swallowing. He knew this was a standard treatment, but he also couldn't blame any patients for being resistant to it. Still, he shook his head and fixed the patient with a firm gaze. "Let her go, Caligosto. You know we've told you not to bite anyone!"

Caligosto's brow furrowed further, and he let out a muffled snarl like an angry dog. He had the capacity to act civil when he wanted to—Fred had seen it probably more than any of the other staff—but when it came to treatment...

Bending his knees until he was eye level, Fred leaned closer to the patient. He had to squint in the light of those weird eyes, but he hoped it made him look more intimidating. As much as he hated his patients to see him that way, in this case, it had to be done. "Caligosto, let her go, right now!"

It worked, but of course, not in the way Fred would have hoped.

With a grunt, Caligosto yanked his head back, teeth ripping over the poor woman's hand. She shrieked and pulled her hand back, looking for something to sterilize it with, while the patient snickered through gritted teeth, his mouth stretched into a manic grin.

Fred sighed, raising himself back up. That was over, at least—

The nurse gasped.

"M-my ring—!"

As she was speaking, there was a deep gulp from Caligosto.

Fred, the doctor, and all three nurses stared down at the patient before looking back up at each other.

This was going to be one of those nights, wasn't it.

At first Caligosto grinned smugly up at the nurse, only for his brows to raise and his face to start losing color. His chest gave a heave, only to halt partway through, and his eyes began to flicker. His arms frantically pulled at their restraints as his throat convulsed in a choked gag.

The doctor spat out a curse, yanking Caligosto off the bed and pulling him up against himself. Immediately the patient began to kick his long legs, nearly causing the doctor to lose his grip, and Fred knelt near Caligosto again.

"Stay still, he's gonna help you," Fred explained in a gentle, hushed voice.

Caligosto's eyes twitched over in Fred's direction shakily, but he stopped squirming, allowing the doctor to jam his hands against his gut. It took a few tries, but finally the patient hacked up the ring, which splatted in a coating of saliva and mucus against the bed. The patient's legs buckled, and he hung his head, wheezing.

"Finally," the doctor grunted. Fred nodded in agreement and was about to turn away when the doctor continued: "Maybe he'll be a bit more compliant now."

Fred froze, then turned to assess the situation again. His coworkers were all staring darkly at the patient, whose eyes were dim and flickering and whose face was panicked, his breaths coming in short gasps.

"H-hang on." Fred held up his hands, hunching his shoulders. "I think he's had enough for tonight. M-maybe we should postpone the treatment for now."

The doctor stared up at Fred for a long moment, bushy eyebrows furrowed, before he let out a growl, shoving the patient in Fred's direction. "Fine. Get him back to his room, then, Bonaparte. We'll schedule the treatment for another date."

Caligosto stumbled into Fred, who awkwardly caught him. "Uh—y-yessir," he replied, turning around to move the patient out of the tiny room.

Just as he moved Caligosto through the doorway, however, the doctor grabbed the back of Fred's shirt and yanked him back, hissing into his ear: "You will do something to break him of that biting habit."

Wincing, Fred nodded, and the doctor let him go.

Finally out of that hellish place, Fred placed a hand on his patient's back and guided him toward the stairwell. "C'mon, Caligosto, let's get you to bed."

As they began mounting the stairs, Caligosto's eyes swung in Fred's direction, flashing. "Postpone?" he croaked, his throat raw.

Fred cringed. "I know you don't like it, but it is treatment." When his patient's eyes tipped downward toward his feet, Fred ducked down closer to him. "It is. It's supposed to help you get better."

The eyes snapped back toward him again. "Have you ever seen a patient get better?"

The question caught him off guard, and he nearly tripped up the stairs. "N-not yet, but it can take a while for treatments to work!"

"...they thought so with my first one, too," came a low rasp.

Fred's head snapped back over to Cailgosto, his eyes wide, but his patient's head was hanging again. Curiosity tugged at the back of Fred's brain, but he didn't want to bother his patient any more tonight than he already had to. They said nothing as they mounted the last few flights of stairs, up to the individual room where Caligosto was kept. He was one of the patients that needed a room of his own, as he was prone to conducting… dentistry on any roommate he was given.

Once at the room, Fred produced a set of keys and unlocked the door, not missing the look of relief on Caligosto's face as he stepped into the room and sank down onto the bed. He was staring eagerly at the worn teddy bear that sat propped up against his pillow, and squirmed his arms against their restraints.

At first Fred went to untie the restraints as usual, but the doctor's words ran through his mind again, and he stopped himself. "...Caligosto, before I go, I need to talk to you about something."

Caligosto groaned. "What is it?" he whined, swiveling his eyes to look up at him. "I'm tired."

Fred drew in a breath. "You can't keep biting people."

"Oh, but I can!" Caligosto tipped his head, flashing a smile, his yellow teeth gleaming in the moonlight.

"You can't, though. I know you don't like the treatments we have to do, but it's for your own good."

"You'd think that, wouldn't you?" Caligosto's smile widened, his eyes glowing brighter. "Anything those silly doctors tell you."

Blood rushed to Fred's face. "Th-the doctors know what they're doing!"

"My father was a doctor, until he wasn't." His eyes took on a wicked glint. "None too bright, if you ask me!"

Fred nearly asked why, when it dawned on him the moniker Caligosto went by before he'd been apprehended: Doctor Loboto. It wasn't exactly hard to put two-and-two together to figure out why his father would no longer be in the medical field.

"...These doctors aren't your father," he said instead. "They want you to get better... and I do, too."

Something about the way he'd said it seemed to catch Caligosto off-guard. His patient's smile faded, and he shut his mouth, his mechanical eyes scanning the floor.

Fred moved in closer, sitting next to him on the bed and placing a hand on his patient's shoulder. "That's why you've got to trust us, Caligosto."

But Caligosto shook his head, standing up. "N-no!" he cried. "You don't understand—you don't know what that does do you—"

"You're right; I don't." Fred stared at him firmly. "But they do."

"No they don't, you toothless numbskull!" his patient snarled, stamping his foot and leaning close to his face. "You know what you are—you're—you're a smiling doormat in front of a torture chamber—!"

Anger bolted down his spine, enough for him to spring to his feet. "Now that's enough!" he snapped. "No more of that, Caligosto, do you understand? No more biting, at least—"

"You'd bite too, if you knew what that treatment did!"

Fred drew in a breath, trying to calm himself down; arguing with a patient never ended well. "Okay, so what does it do?"

"I don't know!" Caligosto wailed, stepping back. "I-I can't remember—it's made me forget things, but I don't remember what I'm forgetting, and, and—!"

Ah, right. Slowly the anger drained from Fred's chest, and some of the tension left his shoulders. "That's just a side-effect, Caligosto," he said gently. "It'll pass, don't worry."

"But it won't! It hasn't! I still can't remember what it made me forget…!"

"Well..." Fred glanced aside. "Let me put it this way: if you stop fighting with the doctors, they won't give you that treatment as often, and you'll recover even faster." He looked up, giving Caligosto an encouraging smile. "How's that sound?"

But Caligosto shook his head, taking several steps back. "No, no, I won't! They can't!"

Fred heaved a sigh; Caligosto was never the easiest patient to deal with. "I didn't want to have to do this," he muttered, scanning the room.

His eyes fell upon the teddy bear sitting on the bed.

Caligosto followed his gaze, and gave a jolt of panic. He was fast, but Fred was faster, snatching the bear off the bed. "NO!" the patient wailed, crashing against the bed. He was quick to scramble back upright, teeth bared in a frantic snarl as he rushed at Fred. "Give him back!"

Bracing himself against the door frame, Fred held the teddy bear away while lifting up one of his legs, catching Caligosto underneath his bound arms and gently pushing him back. He fixed his patient with a firm look. "No, Caligosto. You know the rules. If you can't behave, you get personal item privileges taken away."

"N-not that," Caligosto cried, pushing against Fred's leg desperately. "Please, please—"

"Then you have to agree to stop biting. Stop fighting with the doctors and nurses!"

But Caligosto only wailed again, his legs scrambling as he tried to get closer. In spite of Fred's efforts to keep him away, he managed to push Fred's leg back, getting closer to the teddy. As his arms weren't free to grab it, he opened his mouth, as though attempting to snag it in his teeth.

"No, Caligosto. I'm sorry for this." With a swift kick he sent his patient stumbling backwards and crashing back into his bed. As Caligosto struggled to sit up right, Fred lowered his leg and stared at the teddy in his hands, noticing that one of its button-eyes was on the verge of falling off. "With your biting habit, the eyes on this thing wouldn't be safe for you, anyway."

Caligosto let out a choked noise, and Fred looked up in alarm. But he only sat on the edge of his bed, mechanical eyes dim and staring at nothing.

"...I'm sorry, Caligosto," he said, and stepped out of the room, locking the door behind him.

The creaks and groans of the tower and its residents drowned out the choked sob behind him.

—

He really should have gone to bed, but the curiosity that itched at the back of his brain wasn't going to let him sleep.

(Nor was the weight in his chest, but he wasn't going to think about that right now.)

Fred kept the teddy bear tucked under his arm as he angled his flashlight down at the filing cabinet drawer, frowning as he used his free hand to flip through the folders. Larence... Linzy... Loboto. There it was! After retrieving the folder, he opened it atop the drawer, scanning over the records. Many of them were recent treatments he'd had, but Fred looked further, past the papers signed by Houston Thorney.

There.

There was a record from a hospital on the other side of the country, the copied ink faded and hard to read. But it was from at least a decade ago, and seemed to be a record of a specialized procedure, of a...

A shudder wracked Fred's spine, and he shut the folder, shoved it back into the drawer, and slid it closed. He stared blankly at the filing cabinet for a moment, then found himself looking down at the teddy bear, and gave a start.

The lopsided button eyes of the bear stared back at him, and for the first time he noticed the patch between them, covering the top of the bear's head.

He'd heard of the procedure. It was only done in extreme cases, but it was supposed to be effective. Wasn't it? Yet here Caligosto was, years later, in a mental institution.

Fred shook his head, clutching the teddy bear close.

"Don't worry, Caligosto. We'll be the ones to help you... I just know it."

[bcdrawsandwrites]

[ID: A Bad Things Happen Bingo card. Various prompts are marked with a half-brain (prompt requested but not filled) or full-brain (prompt requested and finished) symbol, while the “Who Did This to You?” prompt specifically is marked with a full brain symbol. /end ID]

OKAY! It’s been a while, but here’s my third fic for my @badthingshappenbingo​ challenge!

I am currently NO LONGER OPEN FOR REQUESTS. I have enough to work on to get a bingo! I MAY decide to reopen prompts later if I want to keep going after finishing these fics, but for now, requests are closed!

This request comes from @i-am-but-a-beta-fish​! I spun it a bit different from the original prompt but I hope you enjoy! Thanks to @jaywings​ and @of-science-and-stars​ for beta-reading!

Also a quick note--this fic takes place in the same ‘verse as most of my other fics. You don’t need to have read those to understand this, though (just know that Loboto’s hanging around the Motherlobe for reasons).

[ID: A Psychonauts fanfic banner on a black-to-gray gradient background. On the left in white text it says “Prompt #3: Who Did This to You?” On the right are two animated figments overlapping each other: a gray-blue broken chunk of a stone wall, and a red blood splatter in front of it, the blood appearing to besplattered on the side and on the “floor” in front of the chunk. /end ID]

Prompt: Who Did This to You? Characters: Razputin Aquato and Linda the Hideous Hulking Lungfish of Lake Oblongata (and also Mr. Pokeylope, Sheegor, Ford Cruller, Sasha Nein, Milla Vodello, Caligosto Loboto, Otto Mentallis, and (briefly) Hollis Forsythe.) Warnings: Blood, injury, (SPOILERS: broken bones, implied animal abuse, amputation)

---~~~---

It started with a scream from Sasha's lab.

Raz, who had been on his way to check in on Loboto's progress for that day, took an abrupt turn toward the agent wing instead, barreling into the lab on his lev ball. Apparently Milla had had the same idea, as she was there as well, both she and Sasha hovering over a very distressed Sheegor. Papers were scattered across the floor around where the lab assistant stood, and she was covering her face in her oversized gloves, sobbing uncontrollably into them.

"Miss Delucca, please calm down and tell us what's going on," Sasha demanded.

"It will be all right, Penelope," Milla said, crouching closer to her and placing a comforting hand on her back. "Please tell us what's wrong, darling."

"What's going on?" Raz asked, dismissing his lev ball as he approached the group. Is Sheegor okay? he added to Sasha.

She just started screaming, Sasha replied with a concerned frown. We've yet to determine the cause.

Putting a hand to his chin, Raz pondered what might cause Sheegor to act like this when a thought struck him. "Sheegor, is it Mr. Pokeylope?"

Sheegor lifted her head, giving a tiny nod before she broke out into another wail, burying her face into her hands once more.

"What’s wrong?" Raz edged in closer next to her. "Is he hurt?"

"It's—it's not him," Sheegor finally gasped, pulling her hands away. "H-he's scared, but he's... it's...!" And once again she broke down into sobs.

"Scared?" Raz's brows knit in consternation. "I don't think I've ever seen him get scared. He's the one who took down Loboto the first time!"

Sasha and Milla exchanged glances. "It must be serious, then," Milla said, and Sasha nodded.

"Is there something dangerous at the camp?"

"I—I—I think there w-was..." Sheegor replied.

"A security breach," Sasha said, and he and Milla immediately began marching out of the lab. "We'll see to this immediately."

Raz nearly turned to follow them when a soft voice stopped them all in their tracks:

"No."

Turning around, he saw Sheegor staring directly at him. Though tear stains marred her face, her eyes were clear. Without warning, she lunged forward, grabbing Raz's hands.

"She wants you."

With a terrible yank, they were gone.

—~~~---

Raz gasped, stumbling in the sudden cold and darkness. The wind whipped at his trench coat, and cold water crashed against the sand, illuminated by the moonlight above. Whipping his head around, he spotted Sheegor next to him, and just past where the stood was the ruins of Thorney Towers.

He had barely a moment to register just where he was when a burning psychic blast struck him square in the chest, knocking him off his feet. "Oof!" he grunted, crashing backwards into the sand. "What the—"

Seeing another psi-blast aimed straight for him, he rolled to the side, while Sheegor gasped in horror.

"Hang on, Sheegor, I'll take care of—"

"MR. POKEYLOPE!" she shrieked, charging further down the shoreline.

Jumping to his feet and keeping a hand against his chest, Raz followed her to find the turtle in question standing by the water, feet braced against the sand and eyes shut tight. The only indication that he was aware of his surroundings was the green psychic energy that formed in front of his forehead, preparing to shape into yet another psi-blast. Before it could manifest, Sheegor scooped him up into her arms, and he gave a start.

"B-baby...?" he stammered, finally opening his eyes.

"Mr. Pokeylope, it's me!" Sheegor cried, tears stinging at her eyes. "We came as soon as we could!"

It was hard to read an animal's face to begin with, let alone a tiny snapping turtle's face in the moonlight, but Raz swore he could sense a faint smile from Mr. Pokeylope. "W-what took you so long, honey?"

"Okay, this is very touching, but seriously, what are we doing here?" Raz demanded, stomping up to the turtle. Sheegor pulled him away protectively. "You said there was danger. What's going on?"

Mr. Pokeylope drew his head back, his normally-smooth voice shaky and thick. "I-it's Linda."

The words Sheegor had said before teleporting Raz struck him, and he charged past Sheegor further down the shoreline. "Where is she?! Linda, where are—"

Raz darted around a huge chunk of rubble, possibly a former wall of the old asylum, and skidded to a halt.

Lying halfway on water and halfway on land was an enormous, lumpy mass, heaving in shallow gasps. A shiny trail of dark liquid in the sand led up to it, and it took a few moments for the shock of the sight to give way to horror as Raz realized just what that trail was.

"...Linda?" he gasped, his legs feeling numb as he willed himself closer to her.

The mass turned slightly, and a gleaming yellow eye, half-open, stared back at Raz. Come closer, Razputin, she said, her lungs heaving all the while.

Raz stepped around to face her from the front, and his stomach twisted at the sight of an enormous chunk of debris immediately next to the mutant lungfish, pressing against her head and pinning her right arm. With a horrified gasp, Raz put one hand on his temple and stretched his other hand outward, manifesting a TK hand that grasped the chunk of rock. It was heavy, which was to be expected, and he clenched his teeth, eyes narrow and hand trembling as he finally lifted the rock off of Linda's arm.

Linda's whole body gave a jerk, her eyes bulging before shutting tightly, and a low moan emanated from deep within her. Thank you, she gasped, though even her mental voice was strained.

Meanwhile, Raz tossed the debris into the water and away from the fish. "How are you feeling now?"

I am in pain.

The simple statement hit him hard in the gut, and he wrapped his arms around himself.

A high-pitched gasp made him turn his head, and he saw Sheegor covering her mouth, glancing between him and Linda and looking like she might burst into tears all over again. Feeling something nudge his foot, he looked down to see Mr. Pokeylope staring up at him pleadingly.

"Can you help?"

Raz faced Linda again, looking her over: two nasty-looking gashes marred her side closer to the beach, probably the cause of the blood trails, while her right arm... He had to move slightly into the water to see it, but when he did, he immediately looked away, nausea surging through him. Though her limbs had never looked natural, even in the moonlight he could see that her arm was bent at multiple very unnatural angles.

Turning back to Pokeylope, he shook his head and put his hands on the sides of his helmet. "I-I can't do anything about this but..." He thought of sending for Compton—he was good with animals, but how well could he handle the stress of this situation? But then if not Compton, then who…

A thought struck him, but he hesitated; getting him involved in something like this could end badly, and Raz had grown a bit more hesitant to speak to him as of late. Could there be someone else…?

As he thought it over, the ground trembled beneath him as a deep moan rumbled within Linda’s throat. Mr. Pokeylope nudged his foot again, his eyes darting between him and the dark blood on the shore.

Raz steeled himself, and he looked at Sheegor. "Ford Cruller," he said. "Can you bring Agent Cruller here?"

Sheegor perked up and gave a serious nod. The beach seemed to flash around her as though illuminated by distant lightning, and without another word she disappeared.

While Sheegor left, Raz took another moment to look Linda over, and then inspected parts of the beach again. He spotted the two chunks of cement that had caused the gashes on her head, thanks to the dark stains upon them. "You guys probably shouldn't be hanging around this place," he remarked. "It doesn't really seem all that safe."

Mr. Pokeylope stomped one of his feet into the shallow water with an indignant splash. "This wasn't an accident."

A bolt ran up Raz's spine. "It... wasn't?"

Before the turtle could answer, there was another flash, and suddenly Sheegor and a very bewildered Ford Cruller were standing on the beach, the former grasping the latter's arms. Ford, while in his Psychonaut uniform, was also wearing a pair of slippers, indicating that he hadn't exactly been on-duty when Sheegor had summoned him. He blinked once, twice, looked at the ruins before them, then shot an accusing glare at Sheegor.

"What in sam hill am I doin' out here?!" he cried, yanking his arms away and looking about ready to smack her. "I already came out here with Lucy, and I wasn't plannin' on goin' on a retreat with some other woman!"

"I'm sorry, Ford," Raz said, stepping toward him, and Ford snapped his head in his direction, his bushy brows raised. "I couldn't think of who else to ask for help. And we really, really need it right now..."

When Raz looked back at Linda, Ford followed his gaze, and Raz could feel the anger that radiated from his old mentor slowly fade.

"...I see," he said, arms falling to his sides. "Been a hot minute since I've had ranger duty—or camp nurse duty, for that matter—but I'll see if I can't sort this out. Let's see what I still have in the cabin." With that, he popped out of existence in a rush of green psychic energy and a brief scattering of sand. Raz and Sheegor watched the spot he'd stood in, occasionally looking back at Linda every so often to see how she was doing; her eyes were still shut, and her breathing still shaky.

It was only a moment before Ford popped back onto the beach, now carrying multiple first-aid kits and, bizarrely, wearing a nurse's cap. Noting their stares, he shot the others a look. "What? If I'm gonna act as a nurse again, I gotta look the part."

"So long as you do something!" Sheegor cried, and Ford rolled his eyes.

"Was thinkin' of just hangin' out back at the lodge," he muttered, striding up to Linda and frowning. "Can you hear me, Lumpy?"

It is Linda. She opened one eye a fraction to give him a look.

"Right. Just gonna be lookin' this over." As he opened one of the first aid kits, Ford hovered up into the air until he was level with the top of Linda's head. "If you're good, you'll get a psi-pop when I'm done."

Wonderful. With a deep sigh, Linda shut her eye again.

At first Raz watched Ford get to work, but when he started cleaning the wound, Raz winced and crouched down closer to Linda's face. "Don't worry, Ford's gonna take care of you." I hope, he added in a silent, guarded thought.

"He'd better!" Mr. Pokeylope snapped. It was strange to see him so aggravated, especially when he'd been calm and silent on the night Loboto had tried to make soup out of him.

"Shhh, Mr. Pokeylope." Sheegor scooped him up, even as he continued to glare at Ford. "Let him work! These people are nice. Not like the doctor."

Any other time Raz might've pointed out that Loboto was starting to do better now, but this was neither the time nor the audience for it. Thankfully Linda took them off the subject: I... I am grateful for your help, Razputin.

"Yeah, and not for the help of the old man actually cleanin' your wounds," Ford muttered, and Linda let out a tired rumble in response.

"This... really wasn't an accident?" Raz asked, dreading the answer. Up above, Ford stopped muttering, one of his eyes briefly skewing toward them.

Slowly her eyes opened to slits, both of them trained on Raz. No.

Flinching, Raz sat back on the beach, a sickness stirring in his stomach before it began to burn, the heat making his way to his face and his hands, which clenched at his side. He stood up, looking her in the eye.

"Who did this to you?"

"A trespasser!" Mr. Pokeylope cried, squirming in Sheegor's grip. "A low-down fool—!"

"Trespasser?" Ford finally turned his full attention to the people standing below. "Who? How?"

Linda drew in a deep breath and let it out in a groan. A young human... older than Razputin, yet not fully grown... He came here from the other side of Lake Oblongata, on a boat...

"A... teenager?" Raz said, brow furrowing, while Ford hummed in thought.

He tried to make it to the camp, but stopped first at the ruins... there, Sam and I intercepted him.

"We wouldn't let 'im pass," Mr. Pokeylope said as Sheegor patted his shell.

We did not wish to hurt him... only for him to leave. But... Linda paused, drawing in another deep, hissing breath.

Mr. Pokeylope was hissing as well, his eyes narrow. "He attacked us."

Sheegor let out a soft gasp, hugging the turtle.

He attacked me, Linda said, looking at Mr. Pokeylope for a moment. He did not see you.

"He... he made the debris fall on you?" Raz frowned up at the ruins. "How did he—?"

He was psychic, like you and I.

"So that's it," Ford said, perking up. "It was one of them dang hooligans! They think just 'cause they came here as a kid, they can just stroll on up to the campgrounds to cause mischief or relive nostalgia. Hmph!" With a grunt, he went back to his work, now cleaning the other wound on Linda's head. "Only the counselors are allowed to do that."

"So it was... a former camper," Raz said, then shook his head. "They came here and did... this to you?!"

"Told you, I like this guy, baby," Mr. Pokeylope muttered to Sheegor with a grin.

Razputin. Linda opened her eyes a fraction wider, focusing on Raz and bathing him in the yellow glow. Did you not do the same to me, when we first met?

Raz gave a start as the memories of the air bubble and the fight in Shaky Claim came rushing back. Meanwhile, a series of short snaps erupted behind him as Mr. Pokeylope abruptly changed his tune, chomping his beak in Raz's direction. He looked back at the turtle, then at the lungfish, holding up his hands and giving them apologetic looks. "I—I'm sorry, Linda, I shouldn't have—"

I was under the control of Kochamara at the time. I do not fault you for defending yourself.

"Yeah, but this guy wasn't defending himself!" Raz cried, gesturing out toward the blood-splattered chunks of debris. "You weren't gonna hurt him!"

No. But I do not fault him for defending himself, either.

"What—?!" Sheegor cried, nearly dropping Pokeylope. "B-but he—!"

Meanwhile the anger drained from the turtle, who looked at Linda with shock and sadness. "Linda...?"

"What do you mean you don't fault him?" Raz demanded, stomping his foot into the sand. "He tried to kill you!"

It is dark here, and I am a frightening sight. Slowly Linda shut her eyes. He is not to blame for acting in fear.

"But... but he shouldn't have been trespassing!" Raz held his hands out imploringly. "You can blame him for that, right?"

"Maybe," Ford spoke up, glancing over his shoulder, "but you ain't one to talk about that, mister circus runaway."

"Huh? But—oh." Wrapping his arms around himself, Raz looked away. "Yeah, but... I... I wasn't trying to cause trouble, at least. But he—!"

It is done, Razputin. There is no need for anger now.

"Well you're free to think that, honey," Mr. Pokeylope said, squirming until Sheegor finally set him down. He marched up to where the lungfish lay, his movements short and furious. "But if I see 'im I'm gonna bite 'im a new—"

Without opening her eyes, Linda raised up her good arm and flattened him into the sand with her fin.

Pokeylope grumbled, but relaxed, nuzzling into her hand. "I'm sorry, Linda," he sighed. "This got me all worked up."

Raz couldn't deny that he felt much the same; in spite of Linda's words, he still shook with emotion. "But it's... it's not fair."

"Yeah?" Ford eyed him. "When's life ever been that way?"

"Huh?" Raz looked up at him in bewilderment. "What do you mean?"

"I..." Sheegor stepped forward, tugging at one of her gloves. "I think Agent Cruller means that things really aren't fair, most of the time." She wandered up to where Mr. Pokeylope sat beneath Linda's fin, and crouched near them, putting her own hand over Linda's. "But that's... that's why we should care about others. For when it's not fair." Hesitantly she glanced back up at Ford. "Right?"

Ford shrugged. "More or less. Somethin' around that, anyway."

"Oh, yay!" Sheegor clapped her gloved hands together before placing one back on Linda's fin again.

Raz looked around at the others before heaving a shaky sigh. "I think I get it," he said, sitting beside Linda's good fin as well and placing his hand on it. He rubbed the slimy appendage, trying not to wince at the slime that got on his glove. "But... I hope you'll be okay, Linda."

Finally she opened her eyes, giving him a look full of a warmth that he wouldn't have thought her capable of. ...And I as well, Razputin.

After exchanging a worried look with Sheegor, Raz turned his gaze upward. "How's it looking, Ford?"

"Well she's got more lumps than Otto puts in his tea," Ford grunted. "Makes the stitching harder than it should be. But she should be all right once that's done."

The tension dropped so quickly from Raz' shoulders that he nearly fell over backwards. "That's a relief!" he cried, only to pause. "...Wait, what about her arm?"

Ford paused in his work. "Arm?" Frowning, he hovered over Linda's head to peek over at her other side. "Now you're telling me she's also got a—ohhh."

As quickly as the relief had come, it vanished, leaving a chill in Raz's chest. Shakily he rose to his feet, walking over to Linda's other side. Ford was standing in the shallow water, staring at her mangled arm. "There... there was another rock that had crushed it," Raz explained, keeping his gaze on Ford and fighting to avoid looking at the arm again. "I got it off her, but..."

After taking a few moments to walk around the limb and shine a flashlight on it, Ford reached down to try grabbing it. When Linda let out a deep, pained grunt, he straightened his back, shaking his head. "I'm a jack-of-all-trades, but this one's a bit beyond my abilities."

"No!" Raz cried. His stomach dropped and tears stung at his eyes as he ran up to Ford and grabbed his sleeve."Please, Ford, you've gotta do something, you can't leave her like this!"

"Why do I gotta do everything?" Ford snapped, yanking his hand away.

Before Raz could get over his shock, the sound of sand rapidly being slapped at with tiny feet preceded Mr. Pokeylope charging out from under Linda's fin and up to Ford, chomping on one of his soggy slippers. "Thath' why!" the turtle grunted, beak firmly latched onto the fluffy rabbit head.

"Hey!" Ford kicked off the slipper, sending Mr. Pokeylope flying.

With a horrified shriek, Sheegor caught the turtle, then shot Ford a glare to rival the ones she gave Loboto. "Don't you dare be mean to Mr. Pokeylope and Linda, you, you—"

"Would y'all stop and listen?" Stomping a soggy sock into the shallow water, Ford gave each of them a look. "If you want her to get better, we gotta move her."

"Wait—move her?" Raz looked quickly between Linda and Ford. It took a moment for the gears to click into place. "Y-you mean... take her back to the Motherlobe?"

I am in no condition to swim, Linda protested, eyeing Ford.

"Good thing that ain't what I'm askin' you to do." Heading back onto the dry land, Ford approached Sheegor and, without looking away, yanked his missing slipper away from Mr. Pokeylope and slid it back onto his foot. "You. Gonna need your help with this."

"M-me?" Sheegor stammered. "What do I have to do?"

Ford fixed her with a hard gaze. "You gotta think real hard, because if we screw this up, things are gonna get real messy."

Swallowing, Sheegor hugged Mr. Pokeylope close to herself. She looked to Raz, then Linda, then down at Mr. Pokeylope, who nodded to her. "...Okay. What do I have to think about?"

"Tell me," Ford went on. "What part of the Motherlobe do you know best?"

Raz had already guessed what she would answer before her face lit up.

—-~~~---

There was a brief, ear-splitting shriek; several surprised shouts; a frantic snapping; a deep, guttural croak; and a shockingly loud thud-SPLAT as everyone abruptly found themselves in the middle of Sasha's lab. Raz was clinging to Ford's leg for dear life, Mr. Pokeylope was snapping his beak and scrambling his legs as he tried to stay atop Sheegor's hump, and Sheegor and Ford stood with their hands on either side of Linda, who now lay in the middle of the floor, dripping slime, mud, and lake water.

Sasha, Milla, and Hollis, who had apparently been in the middle of a heated discussion, all stared at them. A cigarette fell from Sasha's lips, the color draining from his face.

Silence hung over the room.

Ford put a gentle hand on Raz's shoulder, and he gave a start, letting go and stepping back. With a casual hum of approval, Ford nodded to the other agents in the room. "Well, that's that. I'll leave you to it," he said, and strode toward the exit, his bunny slippers slapping wetly against the pristine floor and leaving mud tracks behind. "I'm goin' to bed."

All eyes were on Ford, but he said nothing more, and the door slid shut behind him. Everyone's gazes turned to Linda, and then, slowly, to Raz.

"...Agent Aquato," Hollis said, with a practiced, slow calmness that held back a burning exasperation and anger. "What is the meaning of this?"

Raz held up a finger. "Right. So... I can explain."

—-~~~---

"To start, move your left arm, please," Otto said, glancing up from his clipboard.

A low grumble filled the lab as Linda raised her left arm. After a moment, she subtly scratched at the large stitches that now adorned her head—as subtly as a giant mutant lungfish could do so, anyway.

"Uh-uh, Linda, the nurses said not to touch those," Raz said, crossing his arms.

...You are correct, Razputin, Linda said, drawing her fin away.

Linda still sat in the middle of the lab, which had been scrubbed as clean as it could while housing a giant, mucus-covered fish. Otto stood directly before her, while Raz sat off to the side on the exam table to watch, his feet kicking over the edge. Sheegor sat beside him, holding Mr. Pokeylope in her lap, who watched eagerly. Sasha was nowhere to be found, having decided for a "change of scenery" by switching spaces with Agent Mentallis during Linda's recovery.

The lab wasn't the most ideal place for it, but moving the giant lungfish wasn't an easy task, and with her multiple injuries it was ruled that it would be best for her to stay here for the time being. It had been a long few weeks as some of the healers at the Motherlobe treated Linda's wounds and performed some alarmingly necessary surgeries, while Sheegor and Mr. Pokeylope brought her food and water every day. All the while, Otto had been taking measurements and preparing a new invention, which they were now, finally, testing out.

"Very good!" Otto said, smiling as he checked something on his clipboard. "You can lower that now."

With another low grumble, Linda lowered her arm, resting it on the floor.

"Good job, baby," Mr. Pokeylope said, cocking his head. "You're a natural."

Waving the turtle off, Linda let out a low chuckle.

"Now... can you raise your right arm?"

Linda hesitated.

"Take your time."

Linda's gaze turned to Raz, who gave her an encouraging nod. Shutting her eyes, she concentrated... and with a series of mechanical whirs, her prosthetic limb raised up from where it had been resting at her side. The leather strap that attached it to her tugged gently at her body, while the shiny gray casing reflected the multicolored lights of the nearby consoles as it moved upward.

"It worked!" Raz cheered, jumping up from his seat, and Sheegor let out a high pitched woo! next to him, holding Mr. Pokeylope up in the air.

"Wonderful!" Otto cheered, grinning as he stepped closer to the limb. "Fantastic work!"

It feels... strange...

"Oh, that's perfectly normal! It's not exactly made of the same stuff as your old limb, after all." Reaching out, Otto knocked his bony knuckles against the casing. "It's metal—stainless, of course—with some rubber between your fingers there. Try wiggling them!"

Opening her right eye, Linda stared at her right hand, where a transparent rubber was stretched over the metal claws, forming a fin. After taking a moment, she twitched each finger once before slowly wiggling them, watching the clear material stretch between the digits.

"Good. And how about the other fin?"

Like her left arm, her right bore a smaller fin on one side of it, this one equipped with rubber webbing as well. With a bit of concentration, she managed to flex it.

"Excellent! You're well on your way to mastering your new limb."

Linda flexed her fin and claws a few more times before lowering her arm, sighing. It is... very different, she admitted. But... Her eyes gleamed. Perhaps I can... explore the waters outside soon.

"Don't go too fast," Raz said, walking over to her right side to look the limb over. "You'll still want some practice with that."

She turned to him, and he could hear the amused smile in her voice. I do not think I shall drown, Razputin.

"Uhhh... yeah, good point." Raz scratched the back of his neck. "It really does look like you'll get the hang of this soon, though."

"Absolutely," Otto agreed, patting the side of the mechanical limb. "With practice, it'll perform better than your old one!"

With a quiet rumble, Linda jerked her prosthetic limb away. She held her right fin with her left, staring down at it and feeling the artificial webbing.

Frowning, Raz rubbed his chin, then perked up. "Oh! Hey, Agent Mentallis, I know you wanted to just keep things simple today, but... since there really shouldn't be too much danger, how about we take things for a test drive?"

Linda looked up, and Otto gave a hum. "I like the idea, though I haven't alerted Ford yet. Not to mention, is our dear lab assistant up to the task—?"

"Woah!" Mr. Pokeylope scrambled his limbs to stay on the examination table as Sheegor abruptly disappeared. He looked around, then let out a chuckle. "There's your answer."

A few moments later, Sheegor re-appeared in a flash of light, holding Ford in front of her, as though she'd just grabbed him from behind. This time he was wearing an old suit, and appeared to have been in the process of straightening a bowtie when he'd been snagged. He stood still, eyes wide.

"Ah, good to see you, Ford," Otto said with a raised brow. "I hope we didn't interrupt anything important."

Ford shot a glare at Otto. "I got a date with Lucy tonight!"

"Good, so it wasn't anything too dire."

Raz covered his face to hide his laughter.

Before Ford could protest, Otto went on, "We're moving ahead with... well, moving our subject. Would you mind...?"

Looking back at Linda, Ford heaved a sigh. "All right. But does that other young lady got the spot figured out?"

"Sure do!" Sheegor, who was still holding Ford, chimed in. "I can show you!"

"Now wait—"

The two disappeared with another flash of light.

Otto chuckled. "He is going to be ranting about this tonight."

With another flash, the two returned, Ford looking even more frazzled than before. "All right!" he cried, waving Sheegor off. "All right! Let's get this over with." As Sheegor stepped away, he pointed a finger in her face. "And never do this to me again, you hear?"

"Okay!" Sheegor nodded cheerfully.

"Do... we have to teleport with you?" Raz asked as Sheegor and Ford went to either side of Linda.

"Nope! You can meet us outside," Sheegor said. She pressed her gloves against Linda's right side, while Ford pressed his hands against her left.

"Got it. C'mon, guys!" With that, Raz hurried toward the Otto B.O.N., TKing Mr. Pokeylope into his messenger bag as he did so, and Otto followed directly behind. Moments later, they emerged out in front of the Motherlobe. "Where'd they go...?" Raz squinted in the evening sun, gazing out over the flooded quarry.

"Oh, Sheegor and I picked out a real nice place," Mr. Pokeylope said, popping out of Raz's messenger bag, his front feet hanging over the side. He pointed the toe of one of his boots out over the quarry. "Should be right over..."

"EEK!"

"AAAGH!"

Thud-SPLAT.

"...there."

On the tiny nearby island, a few startled goats fled from the two people and the giant lungfish that had abruptly appeared where they'd been grazing. Sheegor quickly recovered, and while Ford looked somewhat shaken, he stepped back, patted Linda on the side, then shook the slime off his hands. "All right, enough of that," Ford snapped. "If you wanna move Miss Lumpy again here, find someone else skilled in teleportation."

Raz, meanwhile, hurried over to the island. “Thanks, Ford.”

"Don't mention it," Ford shot back. "If you do, I'm teleporting you straight into the lake." With that, he disappeared.

You humans are very kind, Linda remarked. ...If abrasive.

"Well, that's Ford for you," Otto said with a chuckle as he stood at the edge of the Motherlobe’s platform.

"And now you're outside!" Sheegor exclaimed as she pulled Mr. Pokeylope out of Raz's bag and hugged him. "Isn't it nice?"

With a quiet rumble, Linda reached out with her left fin to touch the surface of the water, and shut her eyes. It is not Lake Oblongata... but I am glad to be near the water once more.

"Would you like to take a swim, then?" Otto asked.

With a start, Linda pulled her arm away, and looked over at her prosthetic fin, turning it this way and that.

"I did test that in the water, and it won't rust. It'll propel you just like your old arm did, hypothetically. Why not try it out?"

Linda took a few steps closer to the water, then hesitated, glancing over at Raz. He patted her side. "You'll be okay, Linda. You said you can't drown, right?"

That is not what I fear, but... you are right. Shutting her eyes, Linda stepped into the water, dipping just beneath the surface.

Raz, Sheegor, and Otto all watched eagerly, while Mr. Pokeylope urged Sheegor to set him down. He marched over to the surface of the water, looking down into it and tilting his head. "You doin' all right there, baby?"

After a few moments, Linda emerged again, grasping one of the large rocks on the island with her good fin. It is... quite different...

"Have you had any trouble moving?" Otto asked. "If there's anything wrong, I can take it back to the lab or to my workshop to fix it."

No... I believe it will merely take... getting used to.

"Ah. That's how it is, or so I'm told."

"You've just gotta practice," Raz said. He sat cross-legged at the water's edge, and placed a hand to his temple in concentration. A hand rose up out of the water, giving Linda a thumbs-up before descending again. "I've been doing that with my hydrokinesis, too. It took me a while to get the hang of it."

I see... Linda looked down at the water, then over at her mechanical fin, rumbling softly in thought.

"If you're up for it, let's see some more!" Otto said, waving Linda toward the water. "Go on and give it another go."

Linda said nothing, but after a moment complied, dipping back into the water. Mr. Pokeylope joined her this time, diving in and swimming alongside her.

Raz watched them from the shore, moving to lay on his stomach and rest his chin on his arms. It was a bit difficult to see them with the water distortion, but her swimming looked a lot jerkier than he remembered. Granted, he remembered watching her swim several months ago, and he'd been more focused on not dying at the time. "Well, she's... definitely swimming in there."

"Yep! Mr. Pokeylope looks like he's having fun, too." Sheegor stared down into the water, smiling fondly, only to give a start. "Oh—! Mr. Mentallis, since Linda's out of the lab now, does that mean—?"

Otto perked up. "Ah, yes! I should be able to swap with Sasha to get my workshop back. I'm sure he'll be happy to have his old lab back again."

"Oh no! I'll need to go clean that up!" Sheegor wrung her hands, looking anxiously between Otto and the water. "T-tell Mr. Pokeylope I'll just be back inside!" With that, Sheegor disappeared in a flash of light.

Frowning, Raz looked back at Otto. "Is it okay to switch places again, though? What if this needs more work?"

"I can easily do any necessary adjustments back at my workshop! The trouble was just moving Linda out of Sasha's lab. As that problem has passed, there should be no issue with resuming our usual stations."

"So..." Raz looked back down at the water. "Are you sure this is gonna work?"

"No, not especially," Otto replied with a shrug. "But that's why we're testing it. Already though it's been doing quite well."

"What's been doing quite well?" a new voice piped up from a short distance off.

Raz jumped up from where he'd been sitting to find Loboto storming out from the Motherlobe. "Loboto! I didn't think you'd be coming out here—"

"There you are! I've been looking for you!" Loboto cried as he approached, only to balk before coming closer to Otto. "Well, not you, but I've been looking for my son!"

"Daughter," Raz corrected, deadpan. "And she's not really your daughter."

"Oh, phtttbbt." Loboto waved a claw, sticking out his tongue. "She's my kid and I'll call her what I want! But the problem is, she's not anywhere! Or... not in the lab, anyway."

"How do you know that?" Otto asked with a raised brow. "Weren't you strictly forbidden from the lab for the time being?"

"No."

Raz winced, looking between Loboto and the water. "I'm pretty sure you were—"

"Nope, not anymore!" Loboto strode closer to the edge of the platform, still keeping his distance from Otto.

"Oh? Did someone give you permission to go there?"

"Yes." Frowning (as much as he could frown), Loboto put his hands on his hips. "I did!"

"I... didn't think that was how that worked," Raz remarked.

"It does when you have kids!"

"But you don't—"

"Where is she, anyway? You'd think a lungfish that large would be easy to spot."

As if on cue, Linda broke through the surface of the water, holding her prosthesis in her left fin. It is still a strange feeling, she remarked, but perhaps I will— She looked up, locking eyes with Loboto. Oh.

Loboto's loupes twitched this way and that as he took in Linda's appearance before he gave a gasp of horror. "Linda!" he cried. "What happened?!" Stumbling forward, he fell off the platform and crashed headfirst into the water, only to scramble back up onto the island that Raz occupied. Linda and Mr. Pokeylope both glared at him from the water.

"It's okay, Cali," Raz said hurriedly, holding up his hands. "She's fine! Otto and Sheegor and I have been keeping an eye on her and she's doing okay, now."

This didn't stop Loboto from stepping as close to the water's edge as he dared, staring at Linda's prosthetic limb before looking down at his own. "I see," he murmured before his face brightened. "She's becoming just like her old man!"

A number of bubbles appeared around Linda's partially-submerged face as her eyes narrowed further. Without a word, she spun around and dipped into the lake, only for her tail to surface and slap down against the water, creating a wave that struck Loboto directly, knocking him off his feet with an undignified squawk.

"Teenagers," Loboto coughed, pushing himself up on his arms, while Raz hurried up to his side.

"Sorry, Cali," Raz whispered as he helped Loboto to his feet. "Now's not... really a good time."

"It's fine, it's fine, she'll come around," he muttered, brushing some of the water off himself. Sighing, he made his way back toward the Motherlobe. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to find Morris so I can borrow his blow-drier again..."

As Loboto left, Raz looked back into the water. It was harder to see Linda as the sky grew darker, but at the moment, he got the impression that she didn't want to be found.

—~~~---

When Linda failed to surface again some time afterward, Otto decided they'd done enough testing for the day anyway, and retired to his workshop to inform Sasha that they'd be switching back. Raz waited a bit longer before heading back to the Questionable Area to where his family was stationed. Even after dinner, though, he couldn't help but wonder about how Linda was doing, and so later that night he found himself hopping through the nearest Otto B.O.N. and out in front of the Motherlobe.

He did not see Linda's lumpy silhouette against the quarry, but he did spot something else distinctly out of place: a long, tube-like object sitting on the shore of the nearby island. Actually, no, it seemed to be two tubes jointed in the middle, with a long strap, and... fins...

Heart jumping into his throat, Raz charged out toward the island, landing on it roughly and kneeling down to get a closer look. It was absolutely Linda's prosthetic limb, though now it bore a few scratches in the metal. His mind raced, trying to conjure up what on earth could have caused that. Was it piranhas? Were there piranhas in the quarry? He hadn't seen them before, but then, he'd never swum in the quarry before, or... anywhere, ever. What if piranhas had chewed on Linda's arm? What if they'd attacked her? What if she was a prey animal to predators in this environment? What if they'd eaten her?! What if her arm was all there was left, and they'd spit it up onto shore, and, and—?!

Razputin.

Raz gave a start, realizing only when he scrubbed at his face that he'd been crying. Looking around, he spotted Linda sitting on one of the nearby logs, her eyes glowing at him from the darkness, her tail wrapped around her side and dangling into the water. He wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting there, whether he'd just failed to notice her or if she'd only just surfaced, but he dismissed his earlier panicked thoughts and leaped over to the log.

"Linda! I'm glad you're..." He trailed off when he realized she was now staring out at nothing. At her side he could see the scars from where her arm had once been, and looked back at the prosthetic limb sitting across from them. "...Did it fall off?" he asked. "I can help you put it back on, and we can tell Otto tomorrow so he can—"

No.

Frowning, Raz waited for her to continue. When she remained silent, he heaved a sigh, sitting next to her. Now that he was a bit closer, he could hear the tiny snores of Mr. Pokeylope sleeping at her side.

As they sat, Linda raised up her hand near the stitches on her head. Raz thought she might scratch at them, but instead she simply felt around them with the smooth side of one of her claws. It took him a moment to realize that they weren't the scars from her injury, but from where the metal plate on her head had been removed.

"Does it still hurt?"

...Yes. Linda's eyes closed. In many ways.

Raz wrapped his arms around himself, biting his lip in thought as mulled something over. He took a breath. “You forgave me, and that guy that hurt you,” he said slowly. “But not—?”

You and he acted out of self-defense. Linda opened her eyes again, their yellow glow reflecting against the dark water below. He acted out of self-interest, and malice.

Well, he couldn’t argue with that, but… He kicked his feet as they dangled over the edge. "He's different now, you know."

Yet I remain unchanged.

Though she did not move her mouth, her words were biting.

Raz winced. "I'm sorry, Linda—"

You have nothing to apologize for, Razputin. But his change in behavior does not change my circumstances. And I do not wish to be reminded of my connection to him.

Realization dawned on him as he looked back out at the island and remembered what Loboto had said earlier. "Ohhhh." His eyebrows raised, then furrowed in thought, and something struck him. "Y'know, I get it. When someone does something that... changes you, it doesn't really stop hurting even when they change."

Linda hummed in quiet agreement.

"But you don't have to stop doing things that... can help you."

Her humming stopped, and the yellow reflections in the water shifted to the side as she glanced away.

Raz put his hands on his knees, gripping them. "Ford... he did something that changed me, and my entire family. But... he also taught me a lot, like telekinesis." Straightening his back, he turned to face Linda. "That stuff reminds me of him, but... without that, I wouldn't have been able to help you."

The quarry was silent save for the ever-present crickets and the lapping of water. Linda drew in a breath and released it in an enormous sigh. ...Perhaps you are right, Razputin. Her tail swished in the water, the waves distorting her reflection. I do not wish to be like him... but I do not wish to sabotage myself, either.

Raz thought of bringing up the fact that perhaps Loboto could make things up for Linda, but held himself back; there would be time for that another day. They all had enough to deal with as it was.

"You'll get it figured out," he said instead. After a moment, he reached out and placed a hand on Linda's side, careful to avoid the scars.

...You are a true friend, Razputin.

With an embarrassed laugh, Raz shook his head. "I'm just doing what a Psychonaut would do."

Linda let out a deep, rumbling chuckle. That too.

[bcdrawsandwrites]

[ID: A Bad Things Happen Bingo card. Various prompts are marked with a half-brain (prompt requested but not filled) or full-brain (prompt requested and finished) symbol, while the “Communication Suddenly Cut Off” prompt specifically is marked with a full brain symbol. /end ID]

OKAY! So here’s my second fic for my second @badthingshappenbingo​​ challenge!

I am currently NO LONGER OPEN FOR REQUESTS. I have enough to work on to get a bingo! I MAY decide to reopen prompts later if I want to keep going after finishing these fics, but for now, I am closing requests!

This fic is for @pinkygrocket​! Thanks to her and @jaywings​ for beta-reading!

[ID: A Psychonauts fanfic banner on a black-to-gray gradient background. On the left in white text it says “Prompt #2: Communication Suddenly Cut Off.” On the right is an animated purple figment a glittering psitanium crystal cluster. /end ID]

Prompt: Communication Suddenly Cut Off Characters: Razputin Aquato and Sasha Nein Warnings: Mild claustrophobia, (SPOILERS: blood, minor injury)

---~~~---

Mission Notes:

Meet Ford for new mission debriefing!

Pack gear for ULTRA COOL NEW MISSION!

Double-check AWESOME MISSION GEAR THAT IS TOTALLY NOT GOING TO BE BORING!

Board COOL MISSION HELICOPTER FOR INCREDIBLE DEATH-DEFYING MISSION!

Travel into the DEEP WILDERNESS for DANGEROUS, IMPORTANT MISSION!

count rocks

Raz glared down at his notebook, tapping his pen against it.

Nope, there really was no way to glamorize this.

With a dramatic sigh, he TK'd his pen and notebook into the open backpack that sat at his feet, one strap hooked around his foot to keep it stable. It wasn't his old backpack, but a much larger one equipped with camping gear, as well as various tools Otto had supplied him with for the mission. He considered triple-checking his gear to make sure he had the counting device thingy, the experimental psychic tent shield, all the food, his sleeping bag, and everything else. But there wasn't much of a point when they were already on their way there. Frowning, he zipped the bag shut.

Is everything all right, Razputin? asked a voice in his head.

Looking up, Raz caught Sasha's gaze from the seat across from him. He was still getting used to the sight of him in exploration gear rather than a lab coat. "This isn't some secret mission," Raz said, raising his voice to try to be heard above the helicopter's blades. "We can just talk!"

Yes, but this is easier than competing against the noise of our transport, or bothering our pilot by speaking over the headset.

Well, he wasn't wrong. Raz shrugged. I dunno. I was all excited to go out on a new mission—(especially with Agent Nein! he added to himself)—but we're just... counting rocks.

We're surveying the levels of psitanium and its effects in a small area of Canadian wilderness near the Coast Mountains.

Yeah. Raz leaned back in his seat, fixing Sasha with a deadpan look. Counting rocks.

Sasha tipped his head. Do you believe our mission is unimportant?

I dunno. I just thought we were supposed to be... saving the world? Helping people? Fighting inner demons and all that?

Certainly. And this is helping people, in a way. TKing a cigarette out of his pocket, Sasha stared at it for a moment before thinking better of lighting it within a helicopter, and pocketed it again. Psitanium is a volatile substance that can have strange effects on nonpsychic humans and wildlife.

I know, I know. Agent Cruller already went over this with us.

Then you understand how dangerous psychic wildlife is to an unprepared person.

Yeah, but... Raz gave a vague, useless gesture with his hands. We're not saving people's lives or anything. A thought struck him, and he sat upright. What if we encounter a lost explorer who's in the clutches of a telekinetic grizzly bear?

Sasha raised an eyebrow. You wish to discover an innocent person in danger to make the mission more exciting?

Wincing, Raz slumped back in his seat. ...No, not really.

Hmm. Think of it this way: The only information we have about this area is a rough idea of where it is, as well as some vague reports of unusual phenomena—glowing rocks and strange animals, likely psitanium and the animals it has affected. It's our job to expand on that information so that it is available for others to reference. In that way, we are saving people before they are put into danger. Does that make sense?

Yeah, it does, but... He looked up, spreading out his hands in exasperation. It's counting rocks.

Sasha chuckled, shaking his head. Measuring the area and levels of the psitanium deposit, but yes. And don't worry, you'll learn to appreciate tamer missions like this. Nature can be quite beautiful, and we’ll be far away from any of the noise of civilization. As you remember, sometimes isolation can be a good thing. He let Raz dwell on that for a moment before continuing, Not to mention, you need some more experience filling out mission paperwork.

Raz groaned, holding his head in his hands. That paperwork for getting a passport was bad enough...

You'll get used to it. It's not so bad. I did plenty of survey work when I first joined the Psychonauts, after all.

Raz perked up. Really?! What kind of—

The helicopter swerved.

Grabbing at nearby poles, Raz and Sasha managed to stabilize themselves as the helicopter did the same. Raz gave Sasha a bewildered look. What the heck was—?

"Sorry about that, Agent Nein." The voice of the helicopter pilot speaking over their headsets broke through their thoughts and they looked up. After a brief uncomfortable pause, he continued, “I’m… a bit behind on maintenance, but I wasn’t expecting her to do that.”

That’s encouraging, Raz thought with a frown.

“Regardless, we're approaching the marked area. There's nowhere to land, so once we're low enough I'll put down the ladder—"

"No need," Sasha replied through the headset. He stood up, TKing his own backpack behind him. "Just open the door and let us know when we're at a safe area to land."

“Crazy psychics…” the pilot muttered, not caring that Sasha or Raz could hear him. He then raised his voice again: "Roger that."

Raz hopped down from his seat, slipping the backpack over his shoulders. Feeling the helicopter shift beneath him, he grabbed a nearby pole to stabilize himself. Are we there?

Just about, Sasha replied, facing the door. Prepare yourself.

Nodding, Raz pulled his goggles over his eyes, and Sasha did the same with his own pair.

The next few minutes passed like a few dozen as they waited for the helicopter to get closer to the ground. Finally, the pilot called to them again. "All right, get ready. I'm opening the door in three, two—"

The door opened, and the sound of the helicopter's blades blasted into them like an explosion. It briefly reminded Raz of the airplane he'd been on in Basic Braining, but this was... well, real.

Before he could dwell on that for much longer, Sasha removed his headset and gestured for him to approach the door. Raz removed his headset, shoved his helmet back onto his head, and looked out. As far as the eye could see was a green sea of trees, rolling under a silver sky and over jagged snowcapped mountains. Raz’s jaw dropped. He'd seen plenty of forests and mountains before, but not from this height. This was high, even for an acrobat. It was like the high-dive in Nona’s mind… except this wasn’t a mind.

"Uh—"

Sasha put a hand on his shoulder, and Raz tipped his head up to meet his gaze. When Sasha nodded at him, he nodded back, and they turned down at the ground again. Finally, Sasha leaped from the helicopter, Raz following half a second later.

Cold wind streaked past Raz and whipped against his jacket as he zipped past his senior agent. Gritting his teeth, he held his right hand upward and snagged a thought bubble, which caught him in the air, slowing his descent. He leaned to the left to maneuver past a tree that was a bit too close for his liking, and gave a start when something else drifted into his field of vision: Sasha, "standing" perfectly straight and moving at a leisurely pace toward the ground as though taking an invisible elevator. A moment later, Raz's thought bubble popped, and he dropped the last few feet to the ground below, Sasha landing a few seconds later.

Overhead, the sound of the helicopter faded as it began its journey back to its base.

"Are you all right, Razputin?" Sasha asked, lifting his goggles.

Raz stood stock still as what he'd just done sank in. "Th-that..." With a shaking hand he pulled his goggles back onto his helmet. "...was so cool!" Grinning, he looked back up at Sasha. "Wait until I tell Lili I got to jump out of a helicopter!"

"Not so boring now, hm?" With a smile, Sasha TK'd a map and a compass out of his backpack and unfolded it before the two of them, Raz standing on his toes to get a better look. Marked on the map was a red X—the coordinates the helicopter pilot had been instructed to drop them off at—as well as an area a short distance north of it that was circled in red, a few question marks surrounding it. Sasha glanced between the map and compass a few times before turning in the correct direction and TKing one more item out of his backpack: a handheld blue-and-gray piece of equipment that featured an antenna with some psitanium-infused bulb at the end, a couple handles, several buttons, a keypad, and a screen.

Recognizing the device, Raz brightened, TKing his own out of his backpack and looking it over. "Right, the Psitanium Surveyor Mk. 4!" he exclaimed, turning it in his hands. "We're supposed to input our current coordinates into it, right?"

"I see you remembered Otto's instructions," Sasha said with a nod. He flipped the device on, eyeing the map one more time before he keyed in a few numbers. "That's correct. Be sure to get the numbers exact." With that, he moved the map closer to Raz.

"Got it." Raz hit a switch on the side of the device, whose screen lit up with purple text prompting him to input the coordinates. Looking between the map and the number pad a few times, Raz punched in the digits, double checking them before hitting the enter key.

The numbers were replaced by a large purple check mark and a cheerful chime, before the screen then displayed a message that read, "Beginning survey!"

"So... now we walk?" he asked, looking back up at Sasha.

With a hum of confirmation, Sasha moved the map back to his side before marching north through the forest.

Following Sasha, Raz surveyed his surroundings. Now that he was on the ground, the sights were a lot more familiar. Not that he'd ever been to this particular forest, but his family had traveled far and wide, and he'd seen his fair share of them. The sky was overcast and cold, the trees and grass spread before them were a dull green, and the mountains looming in the distance sported a cold blue-gray. Frowning, he snatched the map from Sasha's telekinetic grip, looking over the circled area—miles away from those mountains. "Man, too bad the psitanium deposit's not in the mountains."

"Thank goodness. That would make our work a lot harder."

"I guess." It might've been cooler, though. Sighing, Raz moved the map closer to Sasha, who accepted it back into his telekinetic grip without looking. The forest was quiet, other than the occasional distant caw of a bird and pine needles shuffling in the breeze. Raz fidgeted with the device in his hands, rubbing his thumb over the buttons without pressing them.

"So uh... you were saying you did survey work before?"

"Yes, many times," Sasha answered. A fallen log loomed in front of him, and he lifted his feet off the ground, levitating over the obstacle before landing on the other side. "It's typical work for new agents."

"But you're not a new agent now."

"No, but you are, and you need a senior agent with you."

Raz tipped his head in interest. "So who was your senior agent you got paired with?"

"Otto Mentallis, of course."

Eyes widening, Raz hurried up to Sasha's side. "Wow!" he exclaimed, and Sasha glanced down at him. "What was it like working with him back when—"

Sasha's foot caught against a stray tree root, and he let out a startled cry as he stumbled.

Raz was quick to catch him before he fell, his TK hand grabbing Sasha's backpack before it dropped on top of him. "Sorry!" he cried, helping him back upright. "I'm sorry, Sasha, I didn't mean—"

"It's all right, Razputin," he said tensely, brushing himself off. "But perhaps now is not the best time to engage in idle conversation."

Wincing, Raz nodded before hanging his head. "Understood."

They continued in silence for some time. Sasha checked the map every so often while Raz glanced down at his device a few times, waiting for any sort of change, and then looked back up at Sasha. He couldn't help but notice how out here in the wilderness, Sasha’s shoulders were tense and he constantly checked his feet to make sure he was hovering over any obstacles. He'd always looked a lot cooler in the comics, but here in real life, he was out of his element. Granted, an untamed forest was a far cry from a sleek enemy base, the Motherlobe, or even the Whispering Rock campgrounds. He needed to be a bit more careful out here.

Man, even the fact that he was on a mission with Sasha Nein didn't help make things any more exciting—not when he couldn't even talk to him, anyway.

After half an hour of silence and still nothing from either of their devices, Raz stopped in his tracks. "This is taking forever! Do we really have to keep walking until these surveyors find anything?"

Sasha stopped as well, looking back at him. "Yes. They'll alert us to the presence of psitanium nearby, and we can start mapping out the perimeter of the deposit."

"Yeah, but we don't even know where it is, other than maybe somewhere north of where we landed." Raz swung his hand out to gesture at the forest. "We could be wandering for hours!"

There was a tinge of exasperation to Sasha's voice as he turned around. "What else do you propose we do, then?"

"...Good question." Putting a hand to his chin, Raz scrutinized the forest around them. There were a lot of normal-looking trees, some hills to the west, some fallen logs scattered around... and a familiar chattering nearby. Raz perked up. "I got it!"

After setting his equipment down, Raz sorted through his backpack and pulled out an oatmeal-raisin granola bar. He peeled the wrapper away and shoved it back into the backpack, then transferred the bar over to a TK hand and peered around the forest. All right, where are you...

Another chittering noise answered his thought, this time closer than before. Raz strained to hear it—to actually hear it, the way Oleander or Dogen could, or the way he could understand Harold. Squirrels were close enough to rats, right? And he could understand that one squirrel on the jet when he used clairvoyance on it, so this should work, shouldn't it?

It took a lot more concentration than he was expecting, but eventually he was able to make out a few of the words: Smell? Smell good? Food?

"That's right, my fluffy little friend!" Raz called out. "This is good food!" He paused, rubbing his chin. "If you like raisins, anyway."

Give it! The squirrel—one with gray fur rather than the reddish-brown ones Raz saw around Whispering Rock and the Motherlobe—finally reared its head, skittering out from behind a tree, but balked at the sight of Raz and Sasha. Uh-oh!

"Wait, it's okay!" Raz held up his hands while moving the granola bar closer, but still out of the squirrel's reach. "We're not gonna hurt you. We just want to ask you something—then you can have this!" He waggled the granola bar. "Can you help us?"

The squirrel stood still for a few agonizing moments, its gaze fixed on the granola bar. Its nose wiggled. Food smells good.

"Taking that as a yes. Okay, so, can you tell us where we can find funny glowing rocks?"

After a few seconds of silence, the squirrel fluffed up. Bad rocks! Very bad! Not good for eating. Many-color-rocks bad. One-color rocks worse!

Raz raised an eyebrow. "Many-color-rocks? No, we’re just looking for purple ones.”

What’s purple?

Raz tipped his head back and rolled his eyes. “Nevermind—can you just tell me where the glowy rocks are?”

Flicking its tail, the squirrel chattered something Raz couldn't catch, though he got the distinct impression it was doing the squirrel equivalent of muttering under its breath and calling him "stupid" in several different ways. But finally it sat down on all fours.Toward sunset. Yes. Bad rocks!

"Toward sunset?" Raz repeated.

"To the west, then," Sasha replied, and Raz looked back at him. "We'll have to keep an eye on our map as to not get lost, but it's as good a lead as any."

"Great!" Grinning, Raz turned back toward the squirrel. "Okay, you can have your—"

The squirrel sprang forward, snatching the granola bar in its mouth and bolting out of sight.

"...food." Sighing, Raz dismissed his TK hand and pulled his backpack over his shoulders. He picked up the survey device and approached Sasha again. "Let's go?"

"Yes."

They resumed their trek through the forest, this time heading west to the hillier region. The terrain was rougher here, and Sasha took to constantly levitating in order to avoid tripping on the uneven ground. He checked the map repeatedly, along with the compass and his own survey device, and Raz got the feeling he wasn't happy about being out in this area.

Just as Raz opened his mouth to suggest they turn back, a two-note tone beeped from their equipment, and the bulb attached to them lit up a bright purple. Eyebrows raised, Raz looked down at the screen, finding it now displayed their current coordinates, as well as a new reading: "Psitanium power count: 7 ottos.”

"Impressive!" Sasha said with a small smile. TKing a pen out of his backpack, he marked their position on the map. "Excellent work, Razputin. It seems your informant was good on his word."

Raz pumped his fist.

"Now that we've reached part of the border of this territory, we can begin the survey proper."

Oh, right, this part. Sighing, Raz held out his device. "So we're marking the perimeter, right?"

"Yes. Then once the perimeter for the deposit has been marked out, we can move inward."

"All right, I can take care of that pretty quick!" With the thought of rapidly knocking out this mission lifting his spirits, Raz summoned his levitation ball, prepared to charge forward.

"Wait!"

Raz paused, balancing on one leg. "Don't worry, Sasha! If you can't keep up, you can just stay put and I'll meet you again when—"

"No, Razputin. The survey device can't detect the psitanium levels that quickly. This must be done at a walking pace if it's to be done accurately, and an accurate assessment in the area could mean the difference between life and death for travelers. Not to mention, we need to keep an eye out for any potential anomalies."

Groaning inwardly, Raz dismissed the lev ball, dropping to the ground with a thump. "Walking pace, got it."

As they used their devices to help them determine where the perimeter was, Raz kept an eye out for anything unusual. About ten minutes into their journey, he spotted just that: a lumpy, faded brown object that stood against the green foliage. "Hey!" Nearly dropping his survey tool in his excitement, Raz crouched down to inspect the object, noting the straps on it. "I think this is someone's old backpack!"

"It seems to be." Sasha hovered closer. "It's certainly seen better days."

Lifting it off the ground, Raz winced; he had to agree. From a large hole chewed in the bottom of the backpack tumbled out a few granola bar wrappers and animal droppings. "Yeah, some animals got to this. There's still something inside, though!" He set it down and unzipped a smaller pocket, and his eyes lit up. "Woah! Check this out!" Using TK he pulled out a clunky square object that reminded him of his Otto-Shot camera. "It looks like some agents were sent here before us! Were they Psychonauts? Or—wait, no, probably the Gastronauts! What kinda spy gear is this?" He looked back at Sasha, only to blink at the slight smile on his face. "What's so funny?"

"I'm not sure I would consider a polaroid camera 'spy gear,'" Sasha remarked.

Face flushing, Raz shoved the camera back into the backpack. "Right..."

"Nevertheless, you may have found something noteworthy. Does the backpack contain any developed photos?"

Raz's face brightened again as he dug through the bag. After a moment he TK'd out a handful of black-and-white photos, but frowned at their state. Many of them were chewed up, some to the point where they were completely unsalvageable. "Yeah, but it looks like the animals got to these before we did." Flipping through them, he saw a few photos of people (unrecognizable thanks to the damage), a photo of some deer a distance away from the camera, and a dark photo in which only some large crystals were visible, embedded into rock. "Huh! Looks like they found psitanium," he said, holding up the last one.

"That seems the case, though that doesn't appear to have been taken in the forest." Sasha's glasses narrowed. "Perhaps a cave?"

"Oooh! Are we going to explore a cave?" Raz asked, finally standing up. He TK'd the last photo into his own backpack.

"We might encounter one later, after inspecting this perimeter. Though hopefully it's not too rough of a terrain... I wasn't planning on doing any spelunking."

"It's not too bad. The caves in the quarry were pretty cool!"

"Hmm."

Now in much higher spirits, Raz resumed his trek. Maybe this mission would be exciting after all.

---~~~---

Three and a half hours later, it was not more exciting.

They'd found nothing notable past the backpack—not even a cave.

Not that it was terrible, but this was definitely the most boring mission he'd ever been on. Even when he was just collecting cards, scavenger hunt items, and mission-critical assets around the camp and the quarry, he was still running and jumping and making use of his acrobatic skills. Here, though, it was a lot of walking. A lot of walking back and forth, too, to make sure they were marking the perimeter of the psitanium deposit correctly, with one of them staying outside the perimeter and one within. Sasha did the tedious part of marking the map, at least. But in the past few hours, the most exciting thing had just been occasionally switching places to shake things up a bit. As much as Raz itched for something to happen, there were no anomalies so far. There were the occasional animals, but none they encountered were psychic. In fact, most seemed to stay far from the perimeter.

There hadn't been much talking, either, aside from Raz letting Sasha know his current readings, or Sasha occasionally announcing that they would stop for a brief rest. As it was, Raz gave a start when his senior agent spoke up: "And that should do it."

"Huh?" Raz moved closer to Sasha, standing up on his toes to look at the map. "Do what? Are we done?"

"See for yourself."

The map was TK'd down to Raz, who immediately brightened at the sight of a complete (but very wonky) circle on the map. "Oh, finally! Now we can explore this area, right?"

"Yes, though remember that we'll need to maintain our walking pace in order to keep our readings accurate. Make note of any anomalies, as well."

"No sign of those yet," Raz muttered. "But... didn't the reports we got say something about psychic animals?"

Sasha lit a cigarette with pyrokinesis, smoking it as he mused. "They did. There were reports of people encountering strange, terrifying creatures that they could not identify. However, keep in mind that most of the reports come from explorers, many of whom often exaggerate their claims. As well, so far our psitanium readings have been fairly low. It may not be affecting the wildlife as much as the psitanium levels at, say, Whispering Rock affect the animals there." When Raz heaved another sigh, Sasha looked down at him again. "Nevertheless, there's a chance of something turning up. On one of my own surveys I encountered psitanium-enhanced cockroaches."

"Wait, really? What were they like?"

"They glowed purple, and were annoyingly resistant to psi-blasts."

"Oh." Raz blinked. "Cool! Cockroaches that are even more invincible than normal."

"I suppose, though not enjoyable to encounter in one's backpack."

"Blegh." Raz stuck out his tongue, then shook his head. "Well, I don't want that, but it'd be cool to see literally anything."

"We certainly won't see much by standing around." Sasha nodded to the north and began levitating out in that direction, Raz following suit. "We still have several hours before we run out of daylight. It will be good to cover as much ground as we can before then."

"And then we can whip out the tents and tent shields!" Raz exclaimed, TKing the latter device out of his backpack to look it over. It was bundled up into a ball right now, but it was supposed to create a psychic force field comparable to a psi-shield around the tent. Otto claimed it did, anyway. "Do you think these things work?"

"Hopefully, but if not, I believe we have enough power between the two of us to protect against any aggressive wildlife."

Okay, he didn't want that either, but hopefully surveying this new area would provide some amount of excitement.

Unfortunately, this part of the mission was nearly as dull as the last part, walking (what felt like) near-aimlessly through the woods as their survey tool continued to pick up readings around them. What made it slightly different was the fact that occasionally, purple shards dotted the ground, and thin lines of purple gas bubbled out of cracks in the soil here and there. The sights weren't as common as the ones at Whispering Rock, but it was something, at least.

However, it was not enough to stave off Raz's boredom. The sensations he'd experienced had started off subtle, but now he felt like his skin was crawling, like his muscles were about to explode, like his mind wanted to start setting things on fire if he couldn't move soon. He swore he hadn't gone this long without running since he'd passed out for nearly twenty-four hours a month or so ago. He almost wanted to ask Sasha if they could stop for another bathroom break, if only for an excuse to run somewhere—

The snap of a twig rang out through the woods.

Raz froze, his mind full of blind, paralyzing terror, as though he were looking into the maw of a monster and unable to move away from it. His breathing picked up, his heart pounding, only for a thought to strike him—the emotion wasn't his. It was like when he could sense the hunger pangs when he CV'd into a hungry fish guard, or when he felt the crackling anxiety of the squirrel in the jet. On top of that, there was something speaking in his mind, but the words were jumbled and confused and heightened in panic.

"Um, S-Sasha?" he stammered, and Sasha stopped, turning back to him. "I-I don't think we're alone!"

The senior agent lowered himself to the ground, stepping closer. "What is it? Can you sense something?"

"I-I think something's sensing me! And... trying to talk to me?" He placed a hand on his forehead, trying to reach out, but he couldn't CV into something he couldn't see. He looked in the direction where he'd heard the twig snap, but if something was there, it wasn't visible to him. "I-I dunno where it is!"

Sasha was looking around too. "Can you try talking to it?"

Why hadn't he thought of that? Shutting his eyes, Raz spoke up within his mind: Who are you? I can't understand you!

The presence in his mind seemed just as confused, but no less afraid. Even so, it seemed to compel him to look in a specific direction.

Opening his eyes, he turned toward the east, but could still see nothing out in that direction. What is it? Can you show me—? And before he could ask anything further, he let out a startled cry, for the foreign voice shouted into his mind before abruptly fleeing. Meanwhile, in the direction he'd heard the twig snap, there was the unmistakable sound of something darting through the woods in the direction opposite of where Raz was looking.

"Interesting," Sasha remarked, staring after the noise.

"What is it?" Raz looked up at Sasha, then back where the noise had come from. "Did you see it?"

"A deer of some sort fled from here. Is the presence still in your mind?"

Looking down, Raz rubbed his head. "No... it went away at the same time the deer must've left."

"Fascinating!" Sasha smiled down at him. "Razputin, I believe you've encountered a clairvoyant deer."

"Ohhhh!" Raz brightened. "That's probably why I couldn't understand it. But..." Frowning, he looked back toward the east. "It was scared. Really, really scared."

"Not surprising. Deer tend to be fearful of humans in general."

"But then why would it try to talk to me at all? It felt like it was trying to tell me something."

"Hmm, you might want to speak to Agent Boole or Morry about expanding your zoolingualism skills," Sasha said, turning toward the east as well. "Could you gather anything from what you sensed?"

"Well, it wanted me to look this way," Raz said, pointing out into the forest. "But when I asked if it could tell me or show me what was out there, it kinda yelled at me, I think, and that's when it ran away."

"Perhaps it's frightened of something out in that direction." Pulling up his map, Sasha scrutinized the marked area. "There doesn't appear to be anything remarkable out that way, but it may be data that wasn't fully recorded." Moving it away, he let out a thoughtful hum and took a drag from his cigarette. "Clairvoyant deer... that would certainly explain the reports from the terrified explorers."

"Do you think they're protecting this place?" Raz asked. "Maybe there's something there they don't want us to find."

"Unfortunately for them, exploring this area is part of our mission." Stepping back up into a hover, Sasha began moving toward the east. "If there's something out there, it's our duty to make note of it."

Raz nodded, only for something to click in his head, and a smile crossed his face. "A psychic mystery!" Grinning, he broke into a run ahead of Sasha. "We're investigating a psychic mystery!"

"And also conducting survey work!" Sasha called after him, and Raz skidded to a halt with a groan.

The two continued in this new direction, occasionally looking at their survey devices. Though forced to move at a walking pace, excitement surged through Raz’s bones. This is the kind of stuff that gets into True Psychic Tales! If they don't publish the Whispering Rock thing, they'll have to publish this one!

"I suppose you're happy you got your wish, hm?"

"Uh!" Raz jumped, straightening his back and holding a hand over his head. He looked up at Sasha in alarm. "I-I didn't think you could read my mind?"

"No, but I can read that smile on your face quite easily," Sasha remarked with an amused smile of his own. "I'm glad you get to have a bit of excitement on your first survey mission."

Raz gave an embarrassed laugh. "Well, you know, all work is important work for a—" Sasha's words sank in, and his jaw dropped. "First?! You mean I'm gonna have to do more of these?!"

"Weren't you just saying that all work is important work for a Psychonaut?"

"Well, yeah... but is there at least any survey work where I can run around?"

Sasha shrugged. "I suppose you could take that up with Agents Zanotto or Forsythe later."

"Yeah, maybe." Sighing, Raz continued onward. "Well, at least we still have this psychic mystery to solve!"

"Indeed." Sasha resumed hovering alongside him. "I wouldn't get your hopes up too much, as it's possible it could merely be a predator the deer feared, or perhaps a larger concentration of psitanium that's too much for them to handle."

"Yeah, but what if it's not?" Raz pointed his finger upward. "It could be an anomaly, like you said before!"

"The clairvoyant deer you encountered was an anomaly in and of itself. But yes, it could be."

Grinning again, Raz looked down at the surveyor. "I don't think it's a larger concentration of psitanium, anyway. It looks like these things are detecting even lower levels of psitanium in this—"

The device's screen flickered and the bulb on its antennae flashed.

"Uhh..." Raz blinked. "Is it supposed to do that?"

Sasha's glasses narrowed as he stared down at his own survey device. "Strange..."

Curious, Raz crept forward, keeping an eye on the device as it continued to flicker. A few more steps forward, and it began to emit a quiet, garbled noise that sounded like a mix between static and beeping. "Sasha, I think something's—"

The device emitted a few loud, frantic beeps before the screen went dark and the bulb turned off. Raz flipped the switch on and off a few times, but nothing happened. Glancing over at Sasha, he found his device to be doing the same, flickering and beeping before shutting off.

"That should not have happened," Sasha murmured, staring at the now-dead device before him.

Raz turned the device around, skimming it for some form of instructions, but found nothing. "Well that's not good." Wincing, he TK'd the device back into his backpack and looked back at Sasha. "Did we fail the mission?" he asked in a small voice.

"Well..." Sasha TK'd his survey device into his backpack as well. "Otto may be able to save the data we gathered from one of our devices—though it will be an incomplete survey—and we did manage to mark the perimeter of this place."

"What do we do now?"

"Locate the cause of the disturbance." With that, Sasha continued forward. "It may have been something environmental."

Nodding, Raz started to follow Sasha, but paused. "...Hey, Sasha, since we're not surveying anymore..."

Sasha glanced back at him, then sighed. "Very well, Raz. You may run."

Raz brightened, bolting ahead of Sasha on a lev ball. "FINALLY!" he exclaimed, grateful for the rush of air that whipped past him as he barreled through the forest, moving into what appeared to be a much hillier area. "Now let's see what's—"

He'd barely gotten a few yards forward when he skidded to a stop, faced with something he hadn't expected. "Uhh... Sasha?"

A moment later, Sasha was at his side, and the two of them looked up at the massive cave entrance that yawned before them. Small psitanium crystals dotted the walls of it, but not enough to light the inside.

"I'll bet that disturbance came from somewhere in here!" Raz exclaimed, pointing a finger upward. "There isn't much psitanium out this way, but maybe there's a big psitanium rock in there that messed up the devices." Remembering the photo, he TK’d it out of his bag and compared it to the cave entrance. “The photo showed some pretty big crystals! The ones out here are small, but I bet they’re bigger deeper in the cave.”

Frowning, Sasha TK'd a flashlight out of his backpack, indicating for Raz to do the same. "Possibly, but let us be cautious nonetheless."

Raz pulled out his flashlight and followed Sasha into the cave, swinging his light this way and that and marveling at how the shadows moved. Most of the caves back at camp or at the quarry had some sort of lighting to keep them from being impossibly dark to navigate, so this was a new experience. Though aside from that, there wasn't much of interest here other than the tiny psitanium fragments that were scattered across the walls and seemed to thin out the further they went. Otherwise it was wide, chilly, and damp, with water dripping from the ceiling somewhere deeper within.

And what sounded like a distant rumble.

Raz stopped. "Did you hear that?"

"I did." Stopping as well, Sasha shone his flashlight further in, but the beam failed to illuminate anything out of the ordinary. "It could merely be things shifting within the cave... or an animal. Or perhaps a person."

"I hope it's not that last one." Raz shuddered.

"It's not likely," Sasha said, moving on. "We've received no reports of missing persons in this area."

It wasn't long until they reached a fork in the cave, one cavern being significantly smaller than the other. Raz examined the two paths before looking back up at Sasha. "Do you think we should split up here?"

"Splitting up is not an ideal strategy in this circumstance," Sasha remarked.

"Yeah, but do you really want to duck through this?" Raz stepped into the smaller fork. The ceiling was only half a foot over his head, and Sasha frowned.

"...No." Breathing out a sigh, Sasha shook his head. "Very well, but please keep in constant contact with me via telepathy. Let me know immediately if there is a problem, and I will do the same." He paused, then turned around, TKing a handful of psitanium fragments out of the wall and into a small pile on the ground between the two tunnels. "In case one of us has to turn around, this will mark the fork in the cave. It may be easy to miss otherwise when backtracking."

"Sounds good to me!" Grinning, Raz darted into the smaller tunnel, while Sasha took the larger. "I bet there's something cool down here!"

The tunnel led him downward, growing narrower and darker the further he went. No more psitanium crystals marked this place, and he placed a hand on his temple to make a note of that to Sasha.

Here as well, Sasha replied. The amount of psitanium has dwindled to nothing, at least on a surface level. There could be more, but we have no way of knowing without our surveyor devices.

Or a dowsing rod!

Ach, those things are a pain to use.

It's not too bad, unless you're doing it at night. I'm not a fan of getting set on fire. He paused. …Isn’t it kinda weird though?

No, not enjoying the sensation of being set ablaze is quite normal.

No, I mean, the photo showed really big crystals, but we’re not getting any more here.

Oh. Yes, that is strange. But it could be as you said, and that there are larger crystals deeper within the cavern.

That makes sense. They kept moving, Raz finding he had to duck as he explored further. This tunnel's just getting narrower. What's it like on your end?

Only slightly narrower in width, but no change otherwise.

That's too bad. It'd be neat to find money here. Raz grinned as he sensed the slight annoyance on Sasha's end. Okay, okay, sorry, couldn't resist. But we could find treasure down here!

Possibly, but I doubt it would be the cause of the interference.

Yeah, you're probably right. Feeling a twinge in his neck, Raz winced as he continued to duck in the narrow tunnel. Fortunately, it opened up a bit more a few feet later, and he let out a relieved sigh. Okay, got enough space here to stand again. How about you? He waited a moment, and when Sasha didn't reply, he sent out another message: Sasha?

Oh, sorry. I was focusing on... something.

That was weird. What did you find?

I'm not sure just yet. I can feel something up ahead, but...

Raz's eyebrows raised in interest. Really? I wonder if there's something further up on my end, too! For a moment he closed his eyes, trying to sense anything up ahead, but there was nothing he could hear or smell, or even sense telepathically. Man, I'm not getting anything. Can you give me any details on what you're getting on your end?

Silence.

Frowning, Raz sent a stronger signal. Sasha! Are you listening?

When Sasha answered, his mental voice was distant. I... yes, I am... …but... something... …is...

Something about the reply made Raz shudder. Is everything okay, Sasha? He waited for a few moments before sending out another urgent message: Sasha?!

Still no reply came, and Raz swung his flashlight around the enclosed space, whose walls seemed a lot closer than they had before. Unseen moisture dripped around him, and he swore he could hear a low groan in the depths of the cavern. Or was that just his mind playing tricks on him?

And then Sasha's reply came, somehow both deafening and eerily quiet at the same time, like a distant scream: Razputin, get out of here now!

What?! Raz's breathing picked up, quick and shallow. Sasha, what's going on?! What's wrong?

Though the reply was immediate this time, it was even more distant, only a handful of words making it out to him: —danger—leave—help...

The last word echoed in the silence.

No, Raz thought frantically, holding his head in his free hand. No, no. Sasha?! Sasha, answer me!

The thought never left his head. Their psychic connection had been severed, and Raz was alone in the cave.

His heart hammered in his chest, and without a second thought he spun around, running back the way he'd come. He moved so quickly that he nearly forgot to duck in the narrow portion of the tunnel, which would've put an end to their mission in an instant. Sasha, can you answer me? he called out again. The mental message went nowhere.

Heart now pounding in his throat, Raz kept running as fast as he could with the heavy backpack on his shoulders, only to skid to a stop at something that caught the corner of his eye: the small pile of psitanium that Sasha had placed on the ground to mark the fork in the cave. He turned around, now facing the tunnel Sasha had entered. "I'm coming, Sasha!" he called out, summoning a levitation ball and charging in. "I won't leave without you!"

Once again Raz swore he heard a groan somewhere in the depths of the cave. Swallowing down his anxiety, he willed himself to move faster.

As Sasha had stated, there wasn't much of interest here. The cave didn't immediately grow narrow in width—though the ceiling of the cave grew taller further in—and instances of psitanium grew fewer and farther between until they disappeared entirely. Yet the further he traveled, the harder it was to stay steady on his lev ball... but that was powered by positive thought, which he didn't have a whole lot of right now. Gritting his teeth, he dismissed the lev ball and charged on foot.

To his surprise, he spotted something farther down the tunnel—something... glowing? But what could be glowing in this—

Raz gasped. Sasha's flashlight!

"Sasha!" he called, willing himself to run faster. Yet the further he got, the more dazed and lightheaded he felt. It's... it's just anxiety, Raz told himself, smacking the side of his face. Keep it together! Sasha's in danger!

The light up ahead was growing larger, and brighter, and his vision swam just trying to look at it. A heavy stone formed in the pit of his stomach. Was this how Compton felt before he started to manage his anxiety better? "H-hang on, Sasha...!"

The light grew brighter, and it felt like an age before Raz realized he was no longer running. It was getting harder to walk, almost like he was trudging through a swamp. Though he still felt lightheaded, his thoughts were clear. What's going on...? This... can't be right. Our flashlights aren't that bright.

Remembering he was holding his own, he looked down at it, then at where it shone, only to give a jolt when he realized that while it was on, its beam was not lighting the cave. Instead it was the brightness ahead, bathing the walls of the cave in an unearthly yellow glow.

Wait—yellow?

Recognition shot through Raz's mind like a psi-blast, and the sheer horror of it allowed him to regain control of his senses. He picked up the pace again, charging headlong through the cavern.

It wasn't a flashlight. It was psilirium.

Some of the crystals were jutting out of the walls up ahead, as the psitanium had, but these were larger, and growing moreso deeper into the cave.

"Sasha! Sasha!" he called, only for another low rumble to answer him, and the wicked yellow light grew ever brighter.

Raz willed his legs to move faster, but his foot caught on something and sent him crashing forward, his flashlight clattering on the ground. "Agh!" he cried out, sprawling on the cave floor. Shooting an angry glance over his shoulder, he was about to vent his frustration on the rock he'd tripped over, only for the words to die on his tongue.

His foot was resting against a large camping backpack. Slowly, he turned his gaze, and found a tall, thin figure crumpled on the ground a few feet away. He might have looked sickly, but it was hard to tell in the harsh yellow light. What was apparent though was the blood dripping from a wound on his forehead, corresponding with a smear of blood on the floor—he'd hit his head when he'd fallen.

"...Sasha?" he gasped. Shakily he crawled on all fours up to the figure, grabbing him by the shoulder and shaking him. "Sasha, answer me!"

A weak groan escaped his throat, and nothing more.

"Please, please!" Raz cried, shaking him harder. When his senior agent failed to answer, he tried to summon a TK hand, only for his vision to swim and his nausea to spike. He shut his eyes, willing the nausea to stop. "I-I can't carry you, Sasha, you have to wake up!"

The cave rumbled around them, and Raz looked up, noticing that the psilirium crystals felt a lot closer than before.

"I-I think this place is caving in!" In desperation, he put his hands under Sasha's shoulders and stood up. "I've gotta get you—"

The cave groaned, and Raz raised his head.

A deer skull, one of its antlers broken off, grinned at him in the over-brightness of the psilirium in the distance. All at once Raz realized this part of the cave was scattered with bones.

And the crystals moved.

The hairs stood on the back of Raz's neck, and he looked slightly to the side.

Due to the bright, burning glow of the psilirium around him, he’d failed to notice until now the four large pillars of something—white stone of some kind, he thought, rather than the dark black and brown of the cave, shining golden in the light, psitanium crystals jutting out of them. Yet parts of them were covered in soft brown patches as well? One of the pillars shifted closer, and at the base of it were two large black stones—no, not stones, two halves of a hoof—with yellow crystals growing between them. Following the pillar upward, Raz found it connected to something else also covered in... brown... patches...

Two bright yellow somethings stared down at him. For a fleeting moment he hoped they were more crystals, and that his eyes were playing tricks on him.

A mouth below the lights opened, and an earth-shaking bellow erupted from its throat, which glowed a hellish shade of gold.

With a scream, Raz staggered backward, somehow managing to keep a grip on Sasha's limp body. He dragged him backward, his gaze still trained on whatever was looming over them. Its barrel-shaped chest heaved around the psilirium crystals that jutted from it, and slowly its long head tilted, resulting in a hideous scraping noise across the walls of the cavern. Off to either side of its head were enormous antlers, also merged with psilirium crystals.

A... deer? No—a moose. A giant moose, somehow bigger than the elephants Raz would see in other traveling circuses, somehow fused with psilirium crystals. Some parts of its flesh had fallen away, leaving exposed muscle and bone, particularly close to the crystals.

Once again the moose opened its mouth wide, wide, straining at the flesh holding its jaws together and letting out a bellow that pitched upward into an echoing scream. It took a step forward, its crystal-encrusted hoofs shaking the ground and its antlers scraping against the walls.

"G-go away!" Raz cried, still fighting to drag Sasha backward. Out of habit he put his hand to is temple and tried to fire a psi-blast at the monstrosity, only to stagger as another wave of nausea hit him full-force, his vision swimming. "Rrrrghhh...!"

The moose tilted its head further, angling its antlers so they were less impeded by the cavern walls. Its jaw hung at an unnatural angle with the tilt of its head. With a deep bellow, it took another step forward. Then another.

Raz strained to move faster, but it was already getting hard to carry Sasha without being able to use TK. His entire body shuddered when he realized he wouldn't be able to use TK at all so long as he was anywhere near this thing. "Oh gosh...!" he gasped, voice hitching. "Sasha, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked for a more exciting mission, or dangerous animals or—"

The moose let out another ear-splitting shriek.

Raz's vision blurred, and he grit his teeth, heaving Sasha's unconscious body backward a few more feet. It was surreal to think that mere minutes ago, they'd been on a harmless survey mission, and now he was facing down his own death. "I wish we were just back out in the forest, counting rocks and setting up a tent and—"

Gasping, he dropped his bag from his shoulders and rifled through it, his hands fumbling with the broken survey device and other obstacles before he found it: a ball-shaped object. "This better work, Otto!"

Raz clumsily turned the sphere in his hands before he spotted a button, which he jabbed with his thumb. The device sprang from his hands, spreading out in a semi-circle shape in front of him and Sasha and emitting a faint purple light over itself.

One of the moose's hooves jabbed at it. The forcefield flashed, and the moose let out an enraged roar.

Grabbing Sasha again, Raz continued moving backwards, faster without the camping bag weighing him down. Before him, the moose grunted and frothed and roared as it kicked and butted against the forcefield, which flickered more and more with every blow. "Come on, come on...!" Raz grunted, glancing down at the unconscious form in his arms. "Please, Sasha, you have to wake up, I-I can't keep carrying you...!"

The moose reared up on its hind legs, its front hooves slamming into the shield.

CRACK.

The shield shattered, and the moose charged.

"No!" Raz screamed, turning around and gripping the shoulders of Sasha's coat behind him as he broke into a run. "No, no, no!" His vision was too blurred from tears and psilirium sickness to tell him just where in the cave he was, but he prayed he was close to the entrance. But just how was he going to outrun this thing in the open forest…?

The stomping of the monster's hooves against dirt and stone grew closer, the glow from the crystal infection dancing off the cave walls.

Suddenly, the entire cave seemed to lurch as a tremendous crash filled the air, and Raz screamed, barely managing to keep on his feet as he charged full-tilt away from the noise. Hearing a terrible groaning somewhere behind him but no further noises of being chased, Raz turned to see the moose staring at him, its head lowered and its antlers jammed against the walls of the cave, now too narrow and low for it to proceed. A laugh bubbled out of his throat, high-pitched and terrified, and it continued as he charged onward, dragging the still-unconscious Sasha behind.

It took a moment before he realized the purple lights dotting the walls and ceiling had given way to stars lighting the sky overhead.

Raz gasped in the cool night air, finally releasing Sasha and sinking to his knees. Crickets chirped around him, and a bird called in the distance. Wind rustled the hair that stuck out from his helmet and stung at his cheeks.

"Sasha?" he whispered, turning around and grasping Sasha's shoulder again. The senior agent's clothing was covered in dirt, and beyond the cut Raz had already seen, what little exposed skin he had bore scratches and bruises. "Sasha, please wake up, I'm s-sorry, I..."

Tears dripped down Raz's cheeks, and he covered his face in his hands.

Something stirred at his side.

Gasping, Raz looked up to find Sasha easing himself into an upright position with a groan. "Sasha!" he cried. Somewhere in the back of his head he knew this was not professional Psychonaut behavior, but he couldn't help himself, and he threw himself into Sasha, wrapping his arms around him. The older agent groaned, but did not protest otherwise. "I-I'm glad you're okay...! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have wished everything would get more exciting, I should've just been happy about the boring mission, I—"

Sasha wordlessly wrapped an arm around him, and he went silent. With his other free hand, Sasha massaged his forehead for a moment, then drew his hand away, only to give a start at seeing his glove covered with his own blood. Breathing out a sharp sigh, he unhooked a radio attached to his belt and turned it on with a crackle. "It's all right, Razputin," he murmured, turning the radio to its proper signal. "We're getting out of here."

Once the helicopter pilot had been sent for, the two of them sat in silence, only broken by a quiet hiss from Sasha as he felt the cut on his forehead again. Raz winced. "I-I should use some first aid on that cut, but our backpacks are in the cave with... that thing."

Sasha leaned back, but did not release Raz. "You got us out of there with our lives. A few wounds is a small price to pay for that."

Feeling the senior agent's gaze upon him, Raz looked up.

"...I would be dead, if not for you and your psilirium resistance."

The words crashed through Raz, dragging him back down to the ground with them. This wasn't like exploring a mental world, where the worst that could happen was getting kicked out of someone's mind—this was the real world, where the worst that could happen was...

"Thank you, Razputin."

The concept of one of his heroes praising him would have normally left him over the moon. But now Raz could only nod silently before staring out into the vast wilderness, numbly awaiting their rescue.

[babycharmander]

Love love love your Psychonauts fics! For the ask game: Who is your favorite character to write? What leads you to consider a fic a success? and What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

Who is your favorite character to write?

Oh gosh that one's always hard to answer. For Psychonauts, I don't think I have a character that's my "favorite" to write? I've enjoyed all the characters I've written so far, and I want to write more, which is why I'm doing the Bingo challenge, haha.

What leads you to consider a fic a success?

Finishing it, editing it, and posting it. Unless I still truly hate it after that, which is very rare, I usually consider fics that are finished, polished, and posted a success. Whether or not people leave kudos or comments is irrelevant (in spite of my typical "OH NO WHAT IF IT SUCKS" anxiety I get immediately after posting, haha).

What's something that appears in your fics over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

For some BIZARRE reason, characters getting a hand or eye (or equivalent) damaged happens FREQUENTLY both in my original writing and fanfiction! Sometimes it's a canon thing (like Loboto's arm or urTih's eye) and sometimes it's something I inflict on the character myself (Héctor losing his hand in Neither Can You) but WOW this happens a bizarre amount. I'd blame it on watching Star Wars growing up (George Lucas sure had a thing for slicing off characters' hands) but I think in all honesty it's from my own fear of my hands or vision getting damaged. But even in the stories where that Bad Thing happens to that character, I do still spin things in a hopeful way (with the exception of urTih because... well... his story didn't get a happy ending, sadly).