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razzle-zazzle · 6 months

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Whumptober Day 25: you're not delivering a perfect body to the grave

Buried Alive + Storm (metaphorically)

3387 Words; River Runs Deep

TW for discussions of memory alteration, death mention, burying someone alive

AO3 ver

“What did you say in that letter?” Raz asks.

“Nothing important, really.” The reflection of Mail Ford responds.

“Just that I loved her.” Agent Cruller continues. “She just wanted to help, but they pushed her too far.”

“How should we have known?” Mail Ford asks. “It’s not like she was marked ‘Fragile!’” The typewriter passes from his hands to Agent Cruller’s.

“But I thought I knew her, and everything she held inside herself.” Agent Cruller laments. “Ahh, I had so much to learn.”

“Ah,” Mail Ford says, “I guess some packages are better left… unopened.”

And with that remark, Raz is left standing once again in the messy treehouse. He looks at the final piece of the mirror in his hands.

“Ford and Nona…” Raz has learned so much, just from poking around in Ford’s brain. His Nona’s memories of her past have been shrouded in mystery. The Aquatos feared the Psychonauts as much as they feared the Deluginists because of this fact—surely, if the Psychonauts ever learned that Nona used to be Maligula, they would prosecute her.

But Raz has learned so much. His Nona used to be a part of the Psychic Seven! She’s one of them! She and Ford were lovers! And oh, some part of Raz’ mind is almost giddy at the realization, that Ford Cruller could have become his great-uncle—but he pushes that part of himself to the side. Now isn’t the time to be fanboying. Raz has a mission to complete!

Still, the fact that Nona and the Psychonauts are more closely linked than Raz ever thought…

Maybe hiding from them is pointless. Maybe they won’t prosecute her. Maybe they can help.

Raz sighs, and puts the last piece of the mirror back in place. He has a mission to focus on. He pulls out the typewriter, and sets it on the shelf.

The silence stretches on, for a moment.

“Razputin.” Ford’s voice cuts across the space.

Raz turns to the mirror clasped in the body’s hand. “Agent Cruller!” He grins. “How do you feel?”

The reflection frowns. “I’ve done a terrible thing.” He shakes his head. “And so have you.”

“What?” Raz’ voice comes out smaller than he wants it to. “I just wanted to help!” And to see if Ford knows anything about whoever took his Father’s and Nona’s memories—though Raz doesn’t voice that bit aloud. “I don’t know who shattered your mind,” Raz steps forwards, “But now we can find out!”

“I already know who did this to me.” Ford admits. “That’s the first thing I’ve learned in here.” The mindscape begins to tilt, slightly, the sky above Raz starting to twist. “The rest you’re gonna have to see for yourself…”

And suddenly Raz is standing in a dark forest, Ford standing next to him. In Ford’s hands is a shovel, and on his face is a grim expression. He’s no longer dressed in a Psychonauts uniform, instead wearing a shirt and jacket.

“Ford,” Raz turns to him, “What is it?” Who shattered your mind? What are you trying to show me?

Ford points with his shovel. “See for yourself.” He utters, as Raz follows the end of the shovel to a stone archway.

Raz swallows. When he looks to his side again, Ford is gone.

Guess I gotta keep going. Raz walks through the archway, and finds himself in what looks like a cemetery. All of the tombstones are blank.

Slowly, carefully, Raz continues forwards, cool mist curling around his ankles. He picks up figments as he goes, looking this way and that for the answers Ford indicated would be here. The ground starts to curve sharply downwards before him.

Raz turns around at the sound of something scraping. His eyes widen—a massive comb is slowly advancing behind him, already past the cemetery’s entrance.

“Uh oh.” Raz hops on his levball and runs, rolling along the ground and collecting figments along the way. The sky darkens as he progresses, the comb advancing behind him at a steady pace, until the only light is that of Raz’ levball, and two lanterns hanging up ahead.

The lanterns are standing to either side of a deep hole. Raz hops down into it. The comb passes harmlessly overhead.

“Agent Cruller,” Raz calls up, “I’m getting less sure I want to see this!”

And Ford is there, at the edge of the hole, pushing his shovel into the dirt. “Oh no,” he mutters, lifting up a shovelful of dirt, “I don’t think you’ll want to see this at all.” He dumps the dirt into the hole—into the grave, Raz realizes, his eyes widening. Within moments, the grave is full, and Raz is struggling to escape the dirt surrounding him. Air! He needs air!

The dirt doesn’t give, pressing in all around Raz as he struggles. He needs to get out of here! But it’s heavy, and dark, and Raz can’t breathe—

Raz’ hand bursts through the dirt, and he scrabbles for purchase on the ground. His head emerges from the dirt with a gasp, his lungs sucking in all the air they can get. Even though he’s only a mental projection and would merely be dementestrated if he failed to make it out, Raz’ chest heaves and he struggles to regain his breath.

Well, now he’s even more sure that he doesn’t want to see this.

But he has to. So he picks himself up all the way, hauling his legs out of the dirt. He pops free, but instead of landing back on the ground he floats upwards.

No, Raz realizes, looking up above him—or rather, looking below—he’s not floating, he’s falling.

“What?” Raz reaches back towards the dirt, yelping as he falls—

Very slowly.

Okay. Okay. It’s okay. He’s fine. Raz looks back down, at the shapes floating in the gloom below him. He’s not going to go splat. He’s going to be fine. He’s going to be fine.

Sharklike-shapes swim circles in the gloom. Raz angles for a figment, grabbing it as he falls towards a candle-lit ledge. He lands, and runs over to the door, pushing it open.

A bowling alley stretches out into the darkness before him. A single light illuminates the beginning of the lane—and illuminates Bowling Ford, who’s lying supine on the wood, a bowling ball resting in his hands on his stomach. Raz walks up to him.

“Hey Ford,” Raz starts, “What’s the deal with the deep six treatment?” Couldn’t he just drop a memory vault or something? Points for the presentation, but Raz is tired. He has been running around all day trying to fix this, and he would appreciate a break.

“I did what I had to do.” Ford states miserably. “I loved her, after all.”

All of Raz’ annoyance comes to a halt. “Wait, what?” Okay, now he’s wondering if he actually managed to put Ford back together, because that makes no sense. It’s like he isn’t even responding to Raz at all—what does loving Raz’ Nona have to do with burying Raz alive?

Ford lifts his head up. “Someday, when you fall in love, you’ll understand.” He closes his eyes, puts his head back down, and, without any further comment, slides along the lane. A light that wasn’t there before sits at the end of it, backlighting a set of pins that Ford knocks over in his exit.

Oookay then. Raz tries to follow, but he can’t get any further than the edge of the light. Fine. He turns around, walks out the door, and makes his way to the edge of the ledge. There’s two more like it, further down, lit with the warm glow of so many candles. Raz jumps.

He floats down just as slowly as before, but it isn’t long before he comes to a landing on the next ledge, having grabbed two more figments on the way. The window above the door is yellow, this time, instead of the pink of the ledge above. Raz grabs a third figment, and enters the door.

Raz is in the hair salon, now, a single light illuminating a patch of green and yellow tile. Barber Ford sits towards the back, atop a massive jar of Hydrocide™. Raz walks into the center of the light.

“Ford, what’s going on here? What did you want me to see?” Raz is so, so tired of having to jump through hoops. It’s all he’s been doing, today, all he’s been doing since Truman asked him to put Ford back together. Raz would really like some answers now!

“I couldn’t let her go free, she was a danger to the world!” And once again, Ford’s talking like Raz isn’t really there at all. Raz huffs in annoyance. Ford continues, “Even though it was the world that made her dangerous.”

Okay, that’s not helpful. Raz already knows all of this—for all that Nona’s memories of her life before the Deluge are gone, she can still remember bits and pieces of her time as Maligula, for all that she refuses to share those bits. Besides, Raz saw all of this when he was running around in the hair-filled mindscape of Barber Ford!

Still, Raz persists. “I know this! But who took your memories?”

“Safe. She’s safe.” Ford says, like Raz isn’t there at all. “Well, she was.” He frowns. “We all were. Huh.” Ford shrugs, “Not anymore.” He plugs his nose, and falls backwards into the Hydrocide™. Raz reaches out, but Ford’s already gone.

Just like before, Raz can’t go much further beyond the edges of the light—not that there really is anywhere to go. So Raz turns around and leaves the room, standing on the edge of the ledge outside the door.

One more ledge to go. Raz already has a good idea of what’ll be on it.

He floats down through the twisted ground making up the chasm, collecting figments as he goes. The window above the final door is blue. Raz pushes the door open, and walks out onto a wooden floor. A typewriter dominates the space, and Mail Ford sits atop it.

Raz pushes up his goggles. “Look, Ford, whatever I’m supposed to know—just spit it out!” He’s so tired. Is it so much to ask that even just one thing comes easy today? Must everything be a struggle?

“I had to hide her from the world, because they’d never forgive her.” Ford rambles. “And I had to hide her from me, because I’d never forget her.”

Raz’ heart starts to sink. Ford isn’t saying… no. No, he must be confused, or talking about something else. “Where?” Raz asks, “Where did you hide her?” He has a sneaking suspicion as to who she is. He hopes it isn’t true.

Ford shuts his eyes. “She’s with family.” He falls backwards over the bar, sinking down into the slot for paper.

Annoyance and dread fill Raz in equal measure. He was hoping for answers about his Nona, about the Memory Man who took her and Dad’s memories, made them think they were mother and son instead of aunt and nephew, left them with nothing but broken pieces when the illusion finally shattered—

Now, Raz isn’t sure what he’ll find, and instead of being excited by the prospect, he only feels a growing dread. He grabs the Half-a-Mind dancing to the side of the door, and makes his way back out. One of the shark-shaped coffins floats by, a tag dancing on its back. As tired as he is, Raz slows it down with time bubble to grab the tag, then leaps off to float down further.

He tumbles slowly, starting to fall faster and faster—

Raz hits the ground with a thud. He picks himself up, and finds next to a tombstone marked “Maligula.” More importantly, though, he’s in a coffin, and despite his protests it slams shut on him, trapping him inside.

The world around him blurs. Raz finds himself still in the velvet-lined coffin, but now it’s big enough for him to stand in, like some weirdly-shaped hall.

What is it with Ford’s mind and Raz getting buried alive? Is it Bury Raz day? Can Raz catch a break?

Probably not. Raz continues on, the velvet hall expanding around him as he goes until it’s almost the same size as a regular hallway. Clusters of candles sit in the corners of the room he finds himself in, cobwebs hanging from the walls and ceiling. Before Raz is a bed, with two skeletons lying on it.

“Ah!” Raz jolts back. “Who’s that?”

Ford’s voice comes in from all directions, even as Ford himself is nowhere to be found. “That’s your grandparents, Lazlo and Marona. They drowned in the Valermo Dam disaster, remember?”

“I already know this…” Raz mutters. Though it is kind of weird for Ford to know it, he thinks. No wonder the Memory Man shattered Ford’s mind—they must have been protecting their own identity. Which means that Ford definitely knows who they were!

(There is another possibility, sitting at the edge of Raz’s brain. He ignores it.)

“You—what?” Ford sounds genuinely caught off-guard.

“Er—” Raz backtracks. “I mean, Grandpa Lazlo died, but my grandma made it out and came to live with my father.” He tries. It doesn’t sound very convincing.

“No, Raz. She didn’t.” Raz can’t tell if Ford believes him or not. Then again, Ford apparently already knows that Raz’ Nona isn’t really his grandmother.

Something clicks behind Raz. When he turns around, the wall is gone, revealing a long hall. Raz sighs, hops on his levball, and continues forward.

Ford’s voiceover continues. “Razputin, after the fight with Lucy, she was defeated, but alive. I snuck her away from the others and brought her back to the Gulch.”

But… wasn’t Ford’s mind shattered in the fight with Maligula? How could he have brought her back to America? Could he still teleport that far with a shattered mind?

(Unless Ford’s mind wasn’t shattered at all, Raz realizes. He shoves that thought down.)

“I put her in the Astralathe—one of Otto’s inventions.” Ford continues.

Raz comes to a screeching halt at the end of the hall. The room before him has wooden flooring mixed with the velvet, a stained glass window, and a strange machine that Raz has never seen before. His heart sinks. No, no, no.

“Created to make permanent alterations to the psyche.” Ford continues, ignorant to the rising panic filling Raz’ throat. No. No no no. Can Raz go back to being buried alive? Please?

Raz spots the purse behind the machine—the Astralathe?—and darts towards it, needing the distraction. He pulls out the purse tag and attaches it. Ford’s voiceover pauses, waiting until Raz is done to continue. After a long moment, Raz continues on past the machine, towards a blue door at the very end of the room.

“But I knew the world would never forgive her,” Ford says, as all of Raz’ hopes fall apart. “So I had to hide her somewhere safe.”

Tentatively, Raz opens the door. “Oh no.” Oh no, indeed—Raz is standing in the doorway of his family’s caravan, looking out over an empty and darkened version of their campgrounds.

“I hid her among her family, Razputin.” Ford says, “Among your family.”

Raz can’t deny it any longer. “You’re—” he gasps, his throat starting to tighten. “You’re the Memory Man!” He exclaims, “You’re the one who took Nona and Dad’s memories!” Raz’ chest tightens, the weight of the world crashing in all around him. No, no—this can’t be right. No.

All at once, the scenery playing out in Ford’s mind stops. “You… knew?” He appears next to Raz in the mindscape, surprise coloring his face.

Raz can’t be in here for a minute longer. He scrambles for his smelling salts and whips them out, popping them open in front of his face. He needs to get out of here. He needs to get out—

“Razputin—” Ford reaches for him—

+=+=+=+=+

Raz snaps back into his body on the mailroom floor. He looks at Ford, once, his chest starting to heave. No—he can’t do this. He never should have done this.

Ford comes back to himself, whirling around to face him. “Razputin—” He tries, but Raz is already running. He needs to get out of here! He needs space!

Raz runs, using his levball to go faster. He runs, all the way through the atrium into the lobby, outside the Motherlobe entirely, across the floating platforms—

(The water feels his agitation, and trembles in shared rage-hurt. It reaches out to Raz as he passes over it, whispering offers to play and wash his cares away.)

Raz reaches the tunnel to the Questionable Area, and keeps going. He bursts out the other end, his chest and legs burning, and he does not stop—

He can see the fairy lights of his family’s camp strung up, bright against the darkened sky. Raz dashes, intent on getting to his parents so they can all leave this place, or something—

Ford crashes into Raz from the side, stopping him from reaching the campgrounds. They tumble across the ground, Raz’ panic hitting a peak—

“Let me go!” he shouts, squirming in Ford’s hold.

“Listen, Raz!” Ford begins, “I know you’re mad—”

“Of course I’m mad!” Raz shrieks. “You’re the reason my Dad can’t remember his mother’s face! You’re the one who put my whole family into this mess, who forced us to hide Nona without any help!” Tears are bubbling out of Raz’ eyes like steam from a kettle. He finds he doesn’t care. “My family’s had to keep Nona’s past hidden all on our own just because you felt the need to shatter your own mind and run from your problems!” He can’t believe this. All his life, he’s looked up to Ford—wanted to be a hero, just like him.

But Ford isn’t a hero at all.

“You’re right to be mad, Razputin.” Ford sighs. “I was young, and I made a terrible mistake.”

“You could have stuck around!” Raz yells. “Did it never occur to you that they might remember?”

“I had hoped they wouldn’t.” Ford admits.

Raz yells. “Well they did! Except they still don’t remember before the Deluge!” He glares at Ford with every inch of anger in his body, “Nona remembers Maligula, but she doesn’t remember you!” And maybe Ford deserved that, to be forgotten by the woman he loved. But Nona didn’t deserve to have all her memories wrenched away like that. The Aquatos didn’t deserve the fear of not knowing, of always looking over their shoulders for fear of what lurked in their shadows.

“Razputin—” Ford raises his hands in a placating gesture.

“DON’T ‘RAZPUTIN’ ME!” Raz is tired. Raz is so, so tired.

“What’s all this?” Augustus’ voice breaks through the tension, and all of the anger leaves Raz’ body at once. He’s tired. He’s so, so tired.

Ford freezes like a deer in headlights. He opens his mouth—

Raz points at him. “He did it!” He shouts. “He’s the one who messed with your memories!”

Augustus’ eyes snap onto Ford. “What.” He sounds so much smaller than Raz’ father should ever sound.

Distantly, Raz notices his mother and siblings wandering over, Queepie held in his mother’s arms, Mirtala holding Frazie’s hand and rubbing at her eyes. He shoves down the part of him that doesn’t want his family to see him crying—Raz doesn’t have it in him to care.

He’s so tired.

“Why?” Augustus asks, clutching at his chest. “You—why would you—”

“Because I loved her.” Ford laments, “And I thought it was the only way to keep her safe.”

“So you took her memories?” Raz doesn’t know how he has the energy to continue yelling. Anger’s just like that, he guesses.

His mother passes Queepie over to Dion, wrapping an arm around Augustus’ shoulders. She glares at Ford. “You.”

Somehow, Ford manages to look even more rigid. “Me.” He admits.

“You have some nerve!” All of his mother’s ire turns to Ford, and Raz can’t find it in himself to defend the man. “What is wrong with you? Do you have any idea the damage you’ve done to this family?”

Ford opens his mouth, but no sound comes out.

“Wait.” Frazie pipes up, bringing everything to a screeching halt. They all turn to look at her.

“Where’s Nona?”

#whumptober2023 #no.25 #buried alive #storm #psychonauts #zaz writes #memory alteration tw #death mention tw #burying alive tw #it's in a mental world but still. this poor kid #the river runs deep au #razputin aquato #ford cruller #augustus aquato #nona is mentioned at various points but she's the only aquato that doesn't show up #the other all show up at the end #BOY OH BOY FORD'S IN HOT WATER NOW HUH #also. i had to watch playthroughs to get the events and dialogue right. and OUGHHHHHHHH #AUGH AUGH AUWAUGH RAZ. RAZ C'MERE SOMEBODY GET THIS BOY A HUG

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bigmanpiwi · 3 months

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Ok I know you said you don't like it and I am all here for whatever changes it goes through but OMG I LOVE YOUR OLDER RAZ DESIGN

STAAAAAAHP DUDE UR SO SWEET TYSM!!!! I've been fine-tuning his design recently and this is what I got 🌊📯💪

I felt like Raz would embrace his Grulovian heritage a bit more in his later years while his family healed, mixing that with his own unique (Raz)zle Dazzle aesthetic to create that amalgamated shlop of a design (lovingly.)

Although I think Raz is more of a Jack-of-all-trades kinda guy, not wanting to limit himself to just one psi-powered field, I think Raz would really take to Hyrdokinesis. It's fckn RAD AUGH ITS SO COOL he utilises the hands of galochio all the time- THINK OF THE POSSIBILITIES AAAAUGH 📣📣📣 TYSM got showing interest teehee I want to draw him A LOT MORE, hopefully I'll get to!

P.S Agent Aquato "The Oncoming Storm" was 100% a name he picked out himself. And everyone knows it. And they all think he's lame, endearingly so.

#psychonauts #razputin aquato #psychonauts razputin #psychonauts future au #art #drawing

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razputinrp · 1 year

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@the-family-fortune

The ocean was violent tonight.

A trawler had roved far past the usual fishing spaces, well beyond what had been deemed safe for humans and deep into dangerous waters. This was siren territory, among many other powerful and terrifying creatures of the sea, and few crews dared to venture along even such boundaries. Everyone knew, of course, that the best fish could be found out there, but sailors feared the monsters that could easily lure them to horrific deaths for such a transgression as trespassing.

The only exception was this particular ship, who often saw bountiful hauls for its risk-taking and boasted not a single casualty from ocean cryptids no matter how far or how late it traveled. And the reason for that incredibly “luck” was standing on the very top deck, staring down the tumultuous waves as if he could calm them through sheer force of will.

Razputin Aquato, twenty-six years old, was barely bothered by the ship’s severe swaying. He stood with only one hand on the railing for balance while the rest of his crew hurriedly anchored themselves with harnesses and jacklines. A powerful wave crashed into the side of the boat with the force of a furious whale, sending people sprawling and shouting and stumbling. Razputin’s eyes darted down for a moment, counting them all to make sure no one had fallen overboard or had gotten hurt, then looked right back up at the sea.

The sky was cloudless; stars dazzled in a hypnotic display across the vast darkness, surrounding a half-moon, but the water itself raged as though they were in the midst of a hurricane. Many of the crew were superstitious and feared the ocean was finally punishing them for their hubris; putting them in their place as land creatures who had no business being out in this world yet had traipsed so merrily through it all the same.

Razputin knew better.

He stared at the ocean and knew that the unnatural storm came from something below the surface. Be it squid, siren, selkie, or something else entirely, there was no doubt in his mind that the waters raged because something – or someone – had commanded it. He didn’t know if they were targeting the lonely ship of humans, or if they were not even aware of its presence.

So he kept watching, looking for the slightest sign of a cryptid’s swimming shadow, simultaneously hoping that the storm would pass without their ship being noticed at all and wondering whether the source of the storm might be the one he had been searching for all these years.

#sea life #sea life 2 #we're baaaaaaaack #for REAL this time #ignore the technical difficulties

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bcdrawsandwrites · 1 month

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Day 7: Flatline / Restrained / CPR Characters: Calilgosto Loboto, Sasha Nein, Razputin Aquato, Lili Zanotto, Morceau Oleander, Milla Vodello Warnings: None Summary: Loboto, who had stowed away on the jet after blowing up Charlie Psycho Delta, inadvertently gives away his position, only to realize he isn’t as far away from his problems as he’d hoped.

His first mistake was taking this blasted job to begin with.

His second mistake was not planning a better escape.

His third mistake was letting himself fall asleep, but who was counting?

The next thing he knew, the compartment door sprang open, and Loboto tumbled out onto the airplane aisle.

There was a very, very long pause, followed by a cacophony of voices.

"Loboto?!"

"Cal?!"

"I'M GONNA KILL HIM!"

"Lili, darling, please—!"

"Everyone, quiet."

That finally shut everyone up. The tall green man was approaching him, and Loboto pushed himself up on his arms, cocking his head. "Ah!" He gave what he hoped was a pacifying grin. "You must be the leader of this operation! I would just like to say that this was all just a big misunder—"

A blue transparent hand was suddenly around his middle.

"—standing," he wheezed.

"That is doubtful," the man said. A chair inched toward Loboto, and in a quick motion, the hand lifted him onto it and readjusted its grip, pinning him to the back of the chair.

Loboto grunted. "How much does it cost for a first class upgrade? Can't even sit in these chairs..." He shifted in his seat as much as he was able, which was very little.

The green man stared down at him. "It is good that you're here, however. Your help will be instrumental in sorting everything out."

"Help?" Loboto echoed. "Well, I can certainly take a look at your teeth, but after that, we'll have to schedule an appointment! Not to mention the paperwork..."

"No, Loboto," the child next to him said gently. "He's talking about what happened with Truman."

"Who?"

Everyone around him turned to look at something off to the side. His loupes twitched over to follow their gaze, and he gave a start.

There was the curly-bearded man whom he'd... operated on. Except it wasn't him.

For a split second, one of the man's eyes opened a slit, and stared at him directly.

Loboto went rigid, straightening his back and facing forward. Visions of watery serpents and rain and oceans and the scariest woman he'd ever seen flooded his mind, and he began to tremble. "Never met him in my life!" he said, his voice taking on a higher octave. His loupes twitched every which way while simultaneously avoiding anyone else's gaze.

"Yeah, we definitely didn't see you holding him captive," the army man—who was in a mermaid tail that he was in the midst of coloring green for some reason—stated, narrowing his eyes.

"Of course you didn't!" Loboto said. "I had nothing to do with this! I was an innocent bystander!"

"Innocent?!" The scary little girl who bore a striking resemblance to the one he'd captured a few days ago suddenly hopped off her chair, storming up to him. Loboto leaned back as much as he was able, and felt himself sweating—not because he was scared of course, but because the temperature around him was oddly rising. "You'd better talk, you big weirdo, or I'm gonna—"

"Lili!" the boy cried, and she stopped, holding herself back, but keeping her fiery gaze on him. Mercifully the temperature dropped down a few degrees, though he was still sweating.

"Well!" Loboto said, jerking against the psychic grip on his middle. "I hate to leave so soon, but, see, Crispin's got an appointment that he's had booked for months in advance, and he hates it when I'm late—"

"You're in an airplane, Cal," the army man grunted.

Loboto stared at him. "So?" When everyone stared blankly at him, he went on, "Get me off of it."

"I... don't think that's a good idea," the little boy said. "Not unless you want to fall into the ocean, anyway."

"The... ocean?" Loboto echoed. He wished that scary girl were trying to set him on fire again, because suddenly he felt very cold as he saw himself plunging into the salty water, and icy fangs sinking into his ankle and dragging him deeper into the depths. The water was cold and numbing and he couldn't breathe, the serpent was wrapped around him, he couldn't—

"Dr. Loboto?"

With a start Loboto realized he was still on the plane, but the psychic hand was still keeping him pinned to the chair, and the person who had the power to make him die the most horrible death with the snap of his fingers was sitting just a few feet away, listening to every word he said. He swallowed, his throat dry. "G... get me out of here."

"We've still some time before we reach our destination," the tall green man said, from what sounded like several yards away. "We'll exit the jet at that point, but until then, I'd like to ask you some questions, Dr. Loboto."

Loboto struggled against the psychic grip around him. "Get me out of here," he repeated, slightly louder. He felt cold, and he could so easily see the blue psychic energy around him as blue serpents coiling around his body. "Get me out, let me go—"

"Caligosto, you're going to be all right," came a woman's voice. "We just want to ask you a few—"

"LET ME GO!" he shrieked, kicking out his feet and throwing himself against his restraints, which refused to budge. "GET ME OUT! I WANT OFF OF THIS PLANE!"

"S-Sasha, what are you...?"

"Just hold on."

Loboto ignored the rest of what they were saying, using all of his energy to fight against his restraints. "LET ME GO!"

His client was listening. If he slipped and told them anything he was going to die. He couldn't get out of here, he couldn't get out of here, he couldn’t—

Something was in front of his face, and he yanked himself backward. "AH!"

"Don't worry," he heard the green man say, as the device began to emit a soft purple light and warbling noises. "You're just going to take a rest."

Before he had time to panic further, Loboto found himself staring into the device, trying to discern its usage. But as he did so, he felt his muscles relaxing, his head drooping. "I can't..." he mumbled, but he was so tired, he couldn't even remember what he was trying to say. "I... have to..."

The world faded, and he dozed off.

#caligosto loboto #sasha nein #gristol malik #psychonauts #psychonauts 2 #psychonauts 2 spoilers #razputin aquato #milla vodello #lili zanotto #morceau oleander #my writing #fanfic #i'm tired of not having anything posted so have one of these fics I wrote months and months ago #i have like twenty of them

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sewersewersewercouch · 7 months

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people seem to approve of Donatella mode so here's a thought.

While the family is setting up at a new campsite, Dona and Raz overhear raised voices a little ways away and go over to check it out. Turns out there had been some kind of mistake and someone else thought they had booked the campsite at the same time as the Aquatos. Augustus is being calm and trying to reason with them, but the other person is getting unreasonably riled up and becoming aggressive.

Now Dona will NOT take this. She is a "he asked for no pickles" wife through and through, and also she's been having a frustrating time trying to book this campsite in the first place and is at the end of her rope. She pushes in front of Augustus and immediately starts going ham on this person--"how DARE you speak to my husband this way--" is it suddenly getting hotter or is it just her? "--where on earth do you get off being so rude--" she can just barely hear Raz repeating "Mom? Mom!" in an increasingly panicked voice "--need I remind you that WE were here before you showed up--" the person is staring at Dona's hands, mouth open, eyes wide "--and ANOTHER thing, figlio di --"

and fire explodes around them.

It doesn't get near enough the other person to hurt them, but they jump back, and then mumble under their breath and storm away. Donatella is still shaking from the sudden outburst, and doesn't quite realize what she did--until she turns to her husband and sees his expression of complete shock.

Until she hears her son's voice shake as he asks her, "Mom, was that....pyrokinesis?"

#psychonauts #donatella aquato #razputin aquato #augustus aquato #I've seen so many psychic dion headcanons and barely any psychic Dona headcanons which I find to be a crime #also I like the idea of her being inclined toward pyrokinesis in a mostly hydrokinetic family. just thoughts

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razputin-vodello-au-archive · 4 months

Note

Interns I have a very touchy, what if question. What if Milla never found Raz that day, or what if Raz never got into that accident that caused his amnesia to begin with? I guess what I'm trying to ask is what if Raz or his family never came into your lives at all?

[Norma] That's ...a loaded question, indeed.

[Lizzie] Yeah, I can see why you wanted to put this one off for so long, Norms.

[Adam] I must say, I feel like you two have been affected the most by Raz being in our lives.

[Sam] Yeah, I already had a little brother. And Morris has a thousand cousins, or something.

[Morris] Less than a dozen, muchas gracias. I do agree with Adam, in fact. We didn't really have that much changed in our lives.

[Lizzie] How about you, Gisu?

[Gisu] Well, I think that the biggest thing would be that Dion wouldn't be in my life. Or maybe live would find a way, we'll never know. It's not like the multiverse theory has any legs to stand on, y'know?

[Lizzie] Meta-physical phenomena theories aside, I think you guys are right. I know that I was a bit more ...anarchistic when I first got here. I was a carefree slacker.

[Norma] You still are.

[Lizzie] (Chuckles) Yeah, but not as much anymore, am I? Acting as Raz's big sister really made me more ...responsible, if only a bit. I believe my social skills got a bit better, seeing I felt that I needed to show Raz at least a bit of my mature side. But Norma, you sure got the biggest change out of it, don't you?

[Norma] You mean, besides having an amazing girlfriend in the shape of Frazie Aquato? I think that it's a bit the same as Lizzie said. Being more responsible - especially for my own actions -, better attitude around other people - don't make a joke, Lizzie. I can see you smirking. - opening myself up to others. Raz did make that possible, in some way. Don't say I said that. His ego is already big enough as it is.

[Adam] You know, come to think of it, we might never had met if it weren't for Raz.

[Morris] How come?

[Gisu] Oh yeah, I remember. The Psychonauts had funding issues in the past, but after Milla and Sasha found Raz, the Oversight Commission really started to pour money into the Agency.

[Sam] Oh, because they feared that Raz was a victim of an organisation that targeted Psychic children, or something, right?

[Adam] Yeah, which led to Agent Forsythe starting up the Advanced Intern Program, which we all joined a couple of years ago.

[Gisu] Huh, weird to think that one little thing - like Raz falling in a river and getting amnesia - leads to such big changes. Domino Effect if I ever saw one.

[Raz] (Entering the room) Hey guys, what are you doing?

[Norma] (Smiles) (Gestures Raz to come closer) Oh, just talking and answering some asks.

[Raz] About what?

[Norma] (Pulls Raz into a hug) About how lucky we are to have you in our lives as our little brother and that we love you very much.

[Raz] (Slightly flustered)(Returns the hug) Oh, I, eh... (Chuckles) I feel the same way. Thanks, Norma.

[Sam] Aww! (Wraps arms around Norma and Raz) Group hug!

[Gisu] (Does the same) Read my mind, Sam. Join in guys!

(Everyone joins in on the hug) (Raz is extremely flustered and blushing up a storm)

[Raz] C'mon, guys. (Nervous chuckle) Eh, Lizzie, you're not gonna call a tickle fight while I'm all vulnerable, right?

[Lizzie] (Soft Chuckle) Tempting, but, not today, Poots. (Ruffles his hair) Not today.

[Raz] Oh... (Relaxes into the hug) I love you guys.

#psychonauts #psychonauts 2 #razputin vodello au #razputin vodello #lizzie natividad #norma natividad #gisu nerumen #sam boole #adam joseph gette #Morris martinez #end of an era

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tuxedokit · 7 months

Text

🪻ALTER LIST🪻

hi ! we are the tuxedokit system ! collectively, we go by either carpet or tuxsys ! 🪻

as follows is a list of everyone in here

"Autopilot" aka Auto Responder | Unknown | it/they - 💾

Luna | 22 | it/they - 🌙

Tyx | Adult | it/they - 🚬

Starlight | Ageless | it/one - 🌌

Nova Strider | 19 | it/stim - 🎶

Quinn | 15-18 | she/they - ✉️

Secret | 13-19 | any/all - 🧩

Little One | 8-12 | they/them - 👾

Blankie | 2-6 | they/paw - 🧸

Ame | 10-17 | they - 🎧

Sayakura | Ageless (Young Adult?) | any - 🧚‍♀️

King Mom Dad Guy | 30s? | he/any - 👑

Quinslap The Weird | Ageless (Old) | he/any - 🧙‍♂️

The Creature | ??? | it/that thing - 🐾

Mango | ??? | it/they - 🐈

— Below are fictives —

Agent 6 | 19-21 | it/they/squid - 🔫

Sollux Captor | 13-19 | they/bee/buzz - 🐝

Jade Harley | Age Slider | they/she/any - 🧬

Rolal | 16-19 | they/any -🍸

Kanaya Maryam | 15 | she/blood/💄 - 💄

KARKAT | 6 SWEEPS | HE/THEY/FUCK - ♋️

Scrooge McDuck | Ageless (Old Man) | he/him - 💰

Della Duck | 26-36 | she/any - 🚀

Dewey Duck | 9-17 | he/they - 🎢

Louie Duck | 9-17 | he/they - 🤑

Webby Vanderquack | 12-16 | any - 🦄

Miles “Tails” Prower | Kid | any - 🛠

Cosmo | Ageless (Child) | they/fae - 🌸

Shadow | Ageless (15+) | any - 🔭

Amy Rose | 16-20 | she/heart/sweet - 💞

Rouge | 18 | she/they/gem - 💎

Tickey | Ageless | he/they - 🕰

Mickey Mouse | 20-26 | they/he – 🧀

Felicity Fieldmouse | 30+ | she/her - 📖

Blissey | 6-12 | he/she - 🎀

Kenny McCormick | 10-17 | he/she/they - 🪦

Stan Marsh | 10-17 | he/they - 🐕

Tweek | 8-10 | he/him - 🗯

Kart | 10-17 | any pronouns - 🍗

Razputin Aquato | 10 | he/they - 🧠

Dion Aquato | 17 | she/he/they/any - 🎪

Storm | 24 | she/wind - 🌊

Filbo Fiddlepie | 25 | he/they - 🍓

Dr. Eggabell Batternugget | 32 | they/she - 🥚

Dr. Floofty Fizzlebean | Adult | they/them - 🥼

Rybin Fizzlebean | Adult | it/they - 📒

Wee Mewon - 🍉

Charmallow - 🍫

Kirby | Ageless | any - 💫

Lammy | 22 | it/they - 🎸

Parappa | 16-18 | he/pup - 🎤

Ramona | 23 | she/any - 🛼

Wakko | 11 | any - 😋

Waks | 16-18 | they - 📹

Agape | 1000+/11 | it/they/any? - 💜

Angel | Adult | he/him - 😈

Mox | Adult | he/they - ⚰️

Mil | Adult | she/axe - 🪓

Yuri | 18 | she/they - 🔪

Mystery | 18 | she/they/bun - 💻

Shore/Riku | 16 | he/she - ⚔️

Harold Hutchins | 9 | he/🖍 - 🖍

Flutters | 27 | she/they - 🦋

Jax | 22 | he/they/it - 🔑

The Doctor | 1000+ | any - 🫂

Elsa | 24 | she/chill - ❄️

Wordgirl/Becky | 10.5 | she/they/word/🌟/📖 - 🌟

Mugsy | Child | she/her - ☕️

Wamma | 30s | she/her - 🎊

Summer | 17 | she/her - ☀️

Pico | 20 | he/they/gun - 💀

Link | 17+ | any - 🏹

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daisyhooves · 2 years

Photo

Sometimes healing can do you some good you know? Its always nice to stand in a storm once in awhile. Nice to just feel the rain on your skin.

Awhile ago an anon sent me an ask asking why I played a game (or in the case at the time watched Doc play it) centered around water and drowning and storms, if I had a deep phobia of em myself. And to be totally frank with yall I answered it really rudely and probably coulda explained better. Sometimes seeing a character in your shoes once and awhile, someone you can deeply connect with in their loss and how they’ve lost someone, can be really nice. Especially when its so similar to how you’ve lost someone yourself. And seeing them heal and grow can be even better for you! Because maybe it gives you a chance to really realize you can heal and grow and figure it out too, as difficult as it all is. Personally I’d like to heal and move on and figure it out like the Aquatos are steadily doing so in their own story, and if I simply neglected playing the game for myself, I would have never had gotten to see a character in a situation so similar to my own. Healing can be good for the soul I think. Avoiding everything all of the time that might have even a sliver of what you fear and what has hurt you, won’t be a step in the right direction, and I’m tired of taking steps backwards.

#Crow Scribbles Stuff #Psychonauts #Augustus Aquato #Psychonauts 2

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doodle17 · 11 months

Note

Okay okay I should probably slow down now. But! I gotta talk about "Children's Work" by Dessa bc it's such a song for the Aquato kids oh my goddddd. Dion parentification. Dion Raz siblinghood. Frazie & Tala & Queepie. Yes.

The first verse being Dion talking about all of his little siblings. "Before you came along I was a lone cub / Fell in love with language, tried to tell the grown-ups / About the storm clouds, the weather in my head / Hadn't heard the word for melancholy yet / Then you came in five years behind" is like. Dion and Frazie singing together because they're so close in age. Dion having trouble with words and Frazie's developing psychic powers. And then Raz comes in, five-six years later.

"Then you came... I thought you were the prophet of 1989" is Raz, "You were so tender, we thought something was wrong with you / So patient, we thought that you were deaf" Mirtala, and "You were so solemn, so tiny but so ancient / Mom took you to see doctors, you scared her half to death" is Queepie.

And then "And I made you a library of tiny books with spines two inches high / You didn't say too much / But your smile taught me how to quiet down my mind" is like. Frazie and Raz practicing their powers together. And then the second iteration of the refrain reflecting on how Frazie decided she was done playing mind games with Raz and how it broke them apart. Frazie's learned how to paint her face and earn her keep, and she's done playing such childish games. But part of her misses that closeness she had with Raz, and Raz went off to learn how to better use his powers.

The first and third times we hear the refrain it's like "But I've learned how to paint my face / How to earn my keep / How to clean my kill" the kids all learning acrobatics. Dion's parentification. "Some nights I still can't sleep / The past rolls back, I can see us still" reflecting back on before the family's psychophobia put a rift between him and Frazie and Raz. "You've learned how to hold your own / How to stack your stones / But the history's thick" Raz running away and learning so many skills. But also still struggling with Meat Circus and Maligula because those aren't battles he should have to fight on his own. And "Children aren't as simple / As we'd like to think" all of the Aquato kids got something going on. Queepie's smart for his age and Mirtala's emotionally intelligent.

I just. Dessa has a lot of bangers and this one always hits my heart like a freight train when I think about the Aquato kids.

#You guys don't understand #There are 4 ESSAYS in my ask box rn #Anon do you #Do you need a nap...?#Doodles rants #dion aquato

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itsthemysterykids · 2 years

Note

Can we get a Heather recreation thing? (Specifically beautiful if you can)

Dipper: September 1st, 1989. Dear Diary: I believe I’m a good person. You know, I think that there’s good in everyone. But, uh, here we are. First day of senior year! And, uh, I look around at these kids that I’ve known all my life and I ask myself, “What happened?”

Students: Freak! Slut! Burnout! Bug eyes! Poser! Lard ass!

Dipper: We were so tiny, happy, and shiny, Playing tag and getting chased.

Students: Freak! Slut! Loser! Short bus!

Dipper: Singing and clapping, Laughing and napping, Baking cookies, eating paste.

Students: Bull dike! Stuck up! Hunchback!

Dipper: Then we got bigger. That was the trigger, Like the Huns invading Rome. *He bumps into Alvin, one of the school bullies*

Alvin: Move!

Dipper: Sorry! Welcome to my school- This ain’t no high school, This is the Thunder Dome. Hold your breath and count the days, We’re graduating soon.

Students: White trash!

Dipper: College will be paradise, If I’m not dead by June!…But I know, I know, Life can be beautiful. I pray, I pray, For a better way. If we changed back then, We could change again. We could be beautiful…

*Pacifica Northwest, one of the popular girls shoves one poor boy to the floor without a care in the world and walks away laughing*

Dipper: ...Just not today. *He goes to help the boy up* Hey, are you okay?

Boy: Get away from me, nerd! *He smacks Dipper’s hand away, grabs his things, and storms off*

Dipper: Geez. *He makes his way into the cafeteria, just drying to keep his head down as he grabs his lunch*

Students: Freak! Slut! Cripple! Homo! Homo! Homo!

Dipper: Things will get better, As soon as my letter, Comes from Harvard, Duke, or Brown. Away from this coma, Take my diploma, Then I can blow this town! Dream of ivy-covered walls, And smoky French cafés…

Coraline: Watch this!

Dipper: Fight the urge to strike a match, And set this dump ablaze!

*Out of nowhere, Coraline smacks his lunch tray out of his hand*

Coraline: Whoops.

Dipper: Coraline Jones. Third year as linebacker, and eighth year of smacking lunch trays and being a total ass!

Coraline: What did you say to me, dick?

Dipper: Gah! Nothing! But I know, I know, Life can be- beautiful. I pray, I pray, For a better way. We were kind before, we can be kind once more. We can be beautiful.

Mabel: Dipper!

Dipper: *He turns and waves. Finally, some good people* Hey. Neil Downe, my best friend since diapers, and Mabel Pines, my best friend since birth.

Neil: We on for movie night?

Dipper: Yeah! You’re on Jiffy Pop detail.

Neil: I rented “The Princess Bride”.

Dipper: Haha, again? Wait, don’t you have it memorised by now?

Neil: What can I say? I’m a sucker for a happy ending.

Raz: Neil Dumptruck! Wide load! *He runs past and smacks Neil’s lunch tray* Ha! Haha!

Dipper: Raz Aquato, quarterback. He is the smartest guy on the football team! Which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf. *Seeing Neil looking upset, Dipper storms over to Raz* Hey! Pick that up, right now!

Ra: I’m sorry, are you actually talking to me?

Dipper: Yes, I am. I want to know what gives you the right to pick on my friend! You’re a high school has-been waiting to happen, a future gas station attendant…

Raz: … You have a zit right there.

*Everyone laughs at Dipper’s embarrassment*

Dipper: … Dear Diary: Why~?

Pacifica: Why do they hate me?

Neil: Why don’t I fight back?

Raz: Why do I act like such a creep?

Dipper: Why~?

Mabel: Why won’t he date me?

Coraline: Why did I hit him?

Students: Why do I cry myself to sleep?

Dipper: Why~?!

Students: Somebody hug me! Somebody fix me! Somebody save me! Send me a sign, God! Get me some cold beer! Something to live for...

*Suddenlt, silence fell over the entire room when three figures stepped through the doors*

Students: Oh-oh… Lili, Wybie, and Dib.

Dipper: And then there’s the Richies. They float above it all.

Students: I love Lili, Wybie, and Dib. I hate Lili, Wybie, and Dib.

Dipper: Wybie Lovat, captain of the baseball team. His grandma is loaded, she owns hotels all over the country.

Students: I want Lili, Wybie, and Dib.

Dipper: Dib Membrane, runs the yearbook. No discernible personality, but his dad did pay for expensive gladses.

Students: I need Lili, Wybie, and Dib.

Dipper: And Lili Zanotto, the almighty… She is a mythic bitch. They’re solid Teflon, never bothered, never harassed. I would give anything to be like that.

Boy: I’d like to be their boyfriend.

Students: That would be beautiful.

Girl: If I sat at their table, guys would notice me.

Students: So beautiful.

Mabel: I’d like them to be nicer.

Students: That would be beautiful.

Weird Guy: I’d like to kidnap a Richie and photograph them naked in an abandoned warehouse and leave ‘em tied up for the rats…

*Bell rings*

*Lili hangs out outside the boy’s bathroom where’s she’s forced to listen to Dib throwing up in the toilet while Wybie checks on him*

Lili: Grow up, Dib! Bulimia is so ‘87!

Dib: Wybie, I need a mint!

Wybie: What you need is to see a doctor!

Ford: Ah, Lili, Wybie- *Dib throws up* … And Dib. Perhaps you didn’t hear the bell you’re late for class.

Lili: *Wybiw walks out of the bathroom with Dib* Dib wasn’t feeling well. We’re helping him.

Ford: Not without a hall pass you’re not. Week’s detention.

Dipper: *Walks up to Ford with a note* Um, actually, sir, all four of us are out on a hall pass for yearbook committee.

Ford: *Reads the note* … I see you’re all listed. Hurry up. *He gives Dipper the note back* Get where you’re going.

*Once he’s gone, Lili takes the forged note and the Richies inspect it*

Lili: This is an excellent forgery. Who are you?

Dipper: Uh, Dipper. Pines. I crave a boon.

Lili C: What boon?

Dipper: Um, let me sit at your table at lunch, just once. No talking necessary. If people think that you guys tolerate me, then they’ll leave me alone.

*The Richies laugh*

Dipper: Before you answer, I also do report cards, permission slips, and absence notes.

Dib: How about prescriptions?

Lili: Shut up, Dib!

Dib: Sorry, Lili.

Lili: *She looks Dipper up and down for a moment* For a greasy little nobody, you do have good bone structure.

Wybie: And a symmetrical face! If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your skull, I’d have matching halves… That’s very important.

Dib: Of course, you could stand to lose a few pounds.

Lili: And, you know, you know, you know, This could be beautiful. Mascara, maybe some lip gloss, And we’re on our way. Get this boy some blush, And, Wybie, I need your brush. Let’s make her beautiful.

Dib: Let’s make him beautiful.

Wybie: Let’s make him beautiful.

Lili: Make him beautiful! Okay?

Dipper: Okay!

*The Richies drag Dipper into a supply closet as the rest of the school day continues*

Coraline: Out of my way, geek.

Mabel: I don’t want trouble.

Raz: You’re gonna die at 3 PM.

Pacifica: Don’t you dare touch me! Get away, pervert!

Neil: What did I ever do to her?

Students: Who could survive this? I can’t escape this! I think I’m dying!

Ford: Who’s that with Lili?

Students: Woah. Lili, Wybie, Dib...

Neil: ...And someone!

Students: Lili, Wybie, Dib...

Raz: ...And a babe!

Students: Lili, Wybie, Dib...

Mabel...Dipper?!

Students: Dipper Pines, Dipper Pines, Dipper Pines!

Dipper: And you know, you know, you know, Life can be beautiful! You hope, you dream, you pray, And you get your way! Ask me how it feels, Lookin’ like hell on wheels. My God, it’s beautiful… I might be beautiful! And when you’re beautiful... It’s a beautiful freakin’ day!

Students: Lili, Wybie, Dib, Dipper! Lili, Wybie, Dib, Dipper! Dipper Pines! Dipper Pines! Dipper Pines! Dipper Pines!

Candy Store

#coraline #mystery kids #paranorman #gravity falls #psychonauts #the mystery kids #ask stuff #answered ask #heathers au #heathers the musical

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razzle-zazzle · 2 years

Text

Whumptober Day 09: The very noisy night

Caught in a storm

1785 Words; The River Runs Deep

TW for memory alteration, discussions of trauma

AO3 ver

Augustus can remember his mother faintly. Can hear her voice in remembered snatches of conversations; can remember the way she’d hold him when he was small and scared by the noises in the night.

He cannot remember her face.

Augustus has seen the photos of his mother, the ones his aunt keeps tucked away in their small album. Has seen her in pictures of the protests, taken from newspapers. Logically, he knows that the woman in the photos is his mother. Knows that that was what she looked like.

And yet.

There is a barrier in his mind, concerning Marona. When he tries to connect the face in the photos to memories of his mother’s voice, when he tries to recall her face as the one who raised him as a child, when he tries to envision her as she must have been when she was alive—

He sees his aunt’s face, instead.

And then he forgets his mother’s face, until he pulls out the album and looks through the photos again.

He can barely remember the man who did this. Can’t even trust that it was a man who found him in the orphanage and brought him to his aunt, who convinced the two of them that they were mother and son.

Augustus wishes he did, sometimes. At least then he’d have someone to blame.

(He thinks he fears the knowledge more, sometimes.)

+=+=+=+=+

Lucrecia does not remember how, exactly, the clouds broke.

She knows when—

(“Leave my son alone! He’s still a child!”

But they wouldn’t. Wouldn’t leave her and Gussy alone, wouldn’t stop following, watching, waiting. What they wanted was in reach, and they don’t know how to give up.)

But the how, exactly, escapes her.

(A rage she didn’t remember she had had risen up in her like bitter poison. She wanted to deny these bastard’s accusations, wanted to be anything but what they were so certain she was.

But the water knew.

The Deluginists had been right.

The clouds broke.)

In some ways, Lucrecia is grateful for their breaking. She wonders, had they remained, if she would have continued to live in fear of the water. If she would have continued to fear the psychic power running through her, through Augustus.

The knowledge of her part in the Deluge, of her actions as Maligula—it weighs heavy on her bones. Her sister’s body, broken and bloated in the water, haunts her nightmares.

(In some ways, she thinks she may deserve that hurt. The consequences of her actions should weigh heavy on her shoulders.)

In most ways, Lucrecia wishes she never remembered. The clouds broke, but the fog did not. She knows her crimes, knows her sister—

But she does not remember much else.

+=+=+=+=+

In many ways, his life is defined by the Deluge; cut into a Before and an After. It is like a river in the landscape of his life, deep and dark.

Augustus can scarcely remember the Before. If the Deluge is a river cutting through the landscape, wide and deep and uncrossable, then the Before is the distant shore he can faintly make out. Details peek out through the fog, elusive and incomplete.

There is no light that can pierce that fog, he thinks. No light can reach across the divide and restore his broken memories.

Augustus knows that the past cannot be changed. He knows that he can only move forwards, away from the fog and the river that define so much of his life.

The past cannot be changed.

Even though Augustus knows little of it.

+=+=+=+=+

Maligula is a war criminal.

Lucrecia knows that she should stand trial for her crimes. That hiding away under the guise of being dead, that presenting herself as her sister—the sister she murdered—is a cowardly way to live.

But it is human to fear. And she fears, very much, what would happen to her nephew were she to stand before the world on trial.

(She is loathe to admit it, but she fears what will happen to herself more.)

Gussy is growing into a young man now. The shadow of the Deluginists still hangs over them, fear clinging to every shadow. Lucrecia does not want to give him up, not for anything.

Maybe it is selfish, to want to watch her nephew continue to grow. Maybe it is selfish, to take the motherhood that her sister will never be able to hold again—

And maybe it is what she owes to Marona. Maybe it is the responsibility she inherited from her sister, and it’s only right for Lucrecia to step up and fill the role.

Maybe it’s both.

Whether it is selfish or not, Lucrecia will continue to watch over her nephew. Continue to hide away her crimes from the world.

It is made easy, in some ways. People will see her and Augustus traveling together, and assume they are mother and son. The world thinks Maligula dead—vanquished—by a group of powerful psychics.

(Lucrecia does not remember the battle. Does not remember the aftermath. The Deluginists claimed it an agent of theirs, who hid her away. And who is she to doubt them, when all she knows of her supposed opponents—when all that the records will tell her—is that they fought her as Maligula and won?

She is not lying, when she says the Aquatos have many enemies. The thought of being found by these “Psychonauts” scares her as much as being found by the Deluginists.)

The world thinks Maligula is dead. That the Water Witch will never return.

Oh, how Lucrecia wishes that was true.

+=+=+=+=+

His life is defined by the Deluge; cut into a Before and an After. The Before remains nebulous and clouded, the details blurring together or gone entirely.

The After can be cut into further parts. Can be cut into its own Befores and Afters. Before the clouds broke. After the Deluginists. Before meeting Donatella. After the proposal.

Augustus supposes that in some ways, the Before does not matter. His mother is dead, and remembering her will not help protect his family as it is now. Being able to put her face into his memories will not keep his family—keep his aunt—hidden from Deluginists.

Augustus can only move forwards.

It’s hard, sometimes. The fear is overwhelming, some nights, swirling around him until he cannot breathe. Deluginists will forever be after his aunt, forever trying to find her whether they know she’s alive or not. It is a curse that follows them, a curse that will never stop following them—

The storm rattles the windows of their caravan. Augustus braces himself against the wall, and shakes.

“Oh, mio caro,” It is here that Donatella finds him, shaking in the storm.

Augustus is not entirely sure he deserves Donatella. That she still sticks by him, even when he told her of his curse and his aunt’s past—

He is a very lucky man, he knows. And when she takes him in her arms and whispers reassurances into his skin, he holds her back just as tightly.

She cannot break the curse or fix his memories. She does not need to, for him to love her as fiercely as he does.

The past cannot be changed. Augustus can only move forwards.

Having both Lucrecia and Donatella makes it easier, in many ways.

+=+=+=+=+

Lucrecia knows the water. The water knows her.

The Aquatos used to have a full repertoire of aquatic tricks at their disposal. Those tricks have been put away for years, now, too dangerous to use.

A traveling circus thrives off of attention, yes. Thrives off of the ticket sales from thrilling crowds. Thrives off of good advertisement and even better performances. But there are many kinds of attention, and not all of them are harmless.

It is safer, this way. Safer for Lucrecia to save the water tricks for the camp, away from prying eyes. Safer for her to know the water only so much as is needed to aid with the chores.

(She fears that, were she to know the water better, the poison would rise again. Were she to utilize the power that hums in her veins, were she to let the water back in fully—

She will not risk it. She will maintain control.)

It is their curse, this stifling of their potential, this constant wariness and vigilance lest they attract the wrong kinds of attention.

They tell people that they are cursed to die in water. That the water is their curse. This is only partly true.

The water is not the curse; it is not the direct cause of their suffering. It is tangled up in their curse, tangled up in their history. It is as much a part of them as the acrobatics, as much a part of them as performance.

The water beckons to her.

Lucrecia cannot let herself listen.

+=+=+=+=+

Augustus loves his family. They are the best thing in this world—they are his world. His aunt, his wife, his children—he loves them so much it hurts, sometimes.

His son stumbles across the balance beam, face pinched in determination. When he reaches the other end, Augustus picks him up and whirls him around, his son shrieking in delight. His daughter is quick to demand the same treatment, and Augustus is quick to oblige.

His children are—Augustus cannot be anything but proud of them. Cannot be anything but excited to watch them grow, and create lives of their own—

The curse remains in the back of his mind. The last thing Augustus wants is for his family to be ruled by it, to be ruled by that fear that followed him through adolescence and still clings to him now. But it is a father’s job to worry for his children, a husband’s job to worry for his wife, a nephew’s job to worry for his aunt—

To love someone so deeply is to care for their safety. Though Augustus does not want his children to inherit his fear, though he wishes they could grow up free of the curse and its weight—

He will tell them soon, he thinks, when they are old enough to understand it. He will not tell them all of it, will not unload his own hurt onto them, but he will give them the knowledge to keep themselves safe, to keep the family safe.

Augustus will not be around forever. His children will not be children forever.

But here and now, both of his children in his arms, giggling and trying to climb onto his shoulders for a better vantage point—

Here and now, Augustus laughs. Here and now, he holds them close.

Here and now, he lets his children know how much they are loved.

#whumptober2022 #no.9 #caught in a storm #psychonauts #zaz writes #trauma #memory alteration #the river runs deep au #augustus aquato #lucrecia mux #nona aquato #donatella aquato #dion and frazie are mentioned #this one kind of fought me???#it was also kind of a case of me fighting myself #but i got it done!!#‚‚‚not sure what to do for tomorrow's whoops

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kyndaris · 2 years

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Summer Camp of the Minds

Taking advantage of the gap between releases, I decided to tackle a little of my backlog of older video games instead of jumping immediately into a meaty role-playing experience. After all, there would be time aplenty for such pursuits and I was eager to keep my narratives short and sweet. Especially after recently enduring quite a few lengthy journeys. A blogger must needs prepare themselves, am I right?

The first on my list saw a sequel release last year to some critical acclaim. Releasing back in 2005, this game was a blast from the past with awkward camera controls and cinematic graphics that looked like someone had smeared Vaseline over my monitor. Despite that, the in-game graphics managed to hold up reasonably well with its stylistic choice and was a fun romp into the world of the mind.

Care to guess, dear reader, what I’m referring to?

Yes, that’s right. Psychonauts!

After tearing my way through Tokyo collecting souls, I thought I’d mix it up a little with a little summer camp adventure. Australia might have been enduring a winter storm of rain and floods but I could pretend I was a ten-year-old boy that was hoping to show off my awesome psychic ability whilst also rescuing the brains of my fellow campers and sudden girlfriend.

What I loved the most about Psychonauts was how effortlessly the gameplay tied in with the narrative and world-building. This was especially prevalent in the mindscapes of the numerous individuals our protagonist: Razputin Aquato dived into to advance forward in his quest to stop the diabolical Dr Loboto and Coach Oleander. Each level was an exploration of the psyche of each individual. While they did fall into certain tropes, I very much enjoyed rampaging around as Goggalor in Lungfishopolis and getting in some marksman practice on a very orderly cube mind that favoured functionality over form.

Given that the game was released in 2005, I was also impressed at how Psychonauts tackled mental health through the lens of resolving past trauma. Some of the solutions might not have been deep but it’s also important to keep in mind that not everyone experiences or processes trauma the same way. What one person might easily shrug off might have debilitating effects on another.

In this day and age, it’s important to accept that every experience is valid. One might not see how something so long ago could impact the present but the human mind is still a very strange beast that scientists and psychiatrists have yet to properly unlock. With awareness, however, we’ve changed the way we diagnose and treat individuals.

Playing on PC, my main gripe with the game were the mouse and keyboard controls. Especially when I was hoping to use the camera. In the end, I resorted to using a controller because it just felt better to use for a third-person platformer. Using an analog stick was also much better than just the directional keys and I also didn’t have to fight the slow movement of the camera as it panned around the levels.

The only part that I struggled with was the Tunnel of Love in the Meat Circus. After failing several times, I managed to cheese the entire segment by simply floating down with the levitation power onto the next part of the stage.

Psychonauts is a surprisingly excellent game for its time. While the narrative is a simple adventure, the themes that are explored and the levels incorporated into the game are imaginative and clever. Some might praise the Milkman Conspiracy but I was equally enthralled with the worlds of Fred Bonaparte and Edgar Teglee. Especially because they brought with them their own unique challenges and creative boss battles that would be hard-pressed to implement in more traditional games.

Hopefully I’ll be able to get to Psychonauts 2 soon, armed now with the knowledge from the first game. It is, after all, floating around on my PlayStation 4 Pro after I purchased it last year. But given all the other games that are still sitting in my ‘To be Played’ pile, it might be some time yet. Maybe I really ought to devote my time into becoming a proper Twitch/ YouTuber game streamer and quit my day job. How else will I be able to get through my ever-growing stack of games that have caught my eye?

Especially now that October will most definitely be a very busy month for me. And goodness only knows how long Xenoblade Chronicles 3 will take me.

#video games #psychonauts #power of the mind

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