Tanya opened her eyes. Agh, her head was pounding. She was back at the circus, in the giant bed where the Aquato family all slept together. On her left, Donatella’s pregnant belly pinned Tanya down as the woman hugged her close. On Tanya’s right, Augustus wrapped his muscular arms around the both of them. Tanya was wrapped in the blanket she had brought with her, restraint and comfort in one. Everyone but her was asleep.
…It was nice, if foolishly idealistic on the Aquato’s part. He shouldn’t have assumed she would be okay with this position. But unlike the last time Tanya found herself in this kind of situation, she couldn’t just go back to sleep. Not unless she wanted to ruin their bedspread, anyway.
With some careful telekinesis, she managed to slip out by leaving the blanket behind. After recovering from the sudden dizziness standing up inflicted, she answered nature’s call and settled herself down on the top of the structure where the Aquatos were sleeping, looking up at the stars. What to do now? She needed to sta-NO. She needed to return to the Psychonauts. Presumably, Mom will eventually try and contact her again… Or she could try and figure out how to contact Mom herself. Ugh, even thinking about that hurts.
How late at night was it, anyway? From the position of Ursa Major… About eleven at night. Not that late. She must have been out for… about three hours? Something like that. She never really appreciated the fact that the stars were all in the same positions in all three of her lives until now. Or, at least, similar enough that the constellations were more or less the same and you could still navigate with Polaris. She only learned to tell time by the stars in officer’s training, and it would have been rather embarrassing if she tried to tell time and failed to recognize anything. Was her first life like that? She couldn’t be sure. Ow.
Should she just fly to the Motherlobe? Or ask Mom to come get her? Razputin would likely love meeting “Agent Vodello”… assuming that the boy has read any comic published this year. Tanya saw his collection, she got the impression that it was all older stuff.
But given Marona Aquato’s true identity… it may be advisable to avoid getting any Psychonauts attention on the Aquatos. She needs to-NO. Now, assuming that Agent Cruller shattered his own mind again, he might get set off if he hears the name. The only way to guarantee that doesn’t happen is to not say it to Mom at all. Yes… that seems like a good plan.
Ah, a slight nudge from Mom. Painful, but any psychic contact would have likely been just as bad. Tanya immediately welcomed the light intrusion into her mind, and focused on that presence to bring herself into her mind as well.
----------------
“Tanya… what happened here?” Were the first words that Mom asked of her when Tanya met her within her mind. She looked at the damage that the battle inflicted with horror.
“Blame Agent Cruller.” Tanya said bitterly as she looked on at the damage herself. Her mind was still in the Japanese cityscape that it was twisted to, with censors still swarming over the buildings, stamping every hypnotic statement they can find. “I’ll need some time to clean things up, I think.” It would probably involve tearing all of this down and starting from scratch.
“Tanya, you usually see this kind of damage in people with psychically active brain tumors.” Mom said, placing extra emphasis on the prognosis. “What is that?” She said, pointing to the shattered segment of mind that was the centerpiece of the whole disaster.
After a moment of thought, Tanya shrugged. “Where the psychic tumor used to be, I suppose.” Mom did not appreciate her turn of phrase, from her profoundly disappointed look. “My recollection of the last few hours is not very good.” Tanya admitted. “From what I can gather of what I do recall, a portion of my mind gained self-awareness and rebelled, attempting to form their own separate mind by consuming large swathes of mine.”
“That… does line up with what we saw when me and Sasha last got inside.” Mom conceded, although very unhappy with that admission. “I’ve never even heard of something like that happening before, but that was Sasha’s theory as to what that entity meant when he said he was ‘Alive’.” She turned to the desolate pile of rubble. “What part was he?”
Tanya hummed. “Well… I should introduce you, I suppose.” Tanya snapped her fingers, summoning her newest mental assistant. The being that appeared looked like Tanya, of course, with some robotic flourishes making clear her gynoid nature. She was wearing a business suit, and had glasses, much like the Director from which she was formed. “This is the Strategic Assessment and Risk Analyst. You can call her Sara for short.” Sara bowed politely, mechanically. For now, she’ll be a bastion of logic in Tanya’s new, more emotional mindscape.
Mom immediately understood Tanya’s indirect admission. “Your paranoia got away from you.” Her eyes narrowed. “Literally.”
Tanya nodded. “That’s a good summary, yes. The Director also represented a few… other confusing bits, mixed in with some good old fashioned spite. I learned quite a bit more about myself in the last few hours.” Tanya pursed her lips as she dwelled on some of those recently unlocked memories. Drinking at the office, no matter how small the dosage, was really crossing a line, in hindsight. One labeled ‘diagnostic criteria for alcoholism’. At least she’ll be able to get that engineering degree this time around.
Mom nodded understandingly. “Nothing with the mind is simple, Tanya. You can’t just decide how you feel, most of the time.”
“Indeed.” Tanya said. “I’ll be thorough this time, when I’m reorganizing the place. Take it slow, do it right.” Set off any other landmines that are waiting in the wings. That… should be all of them, but that just leaves the remainder as unknown unknowns.
“I’m not going to let you out of my sight until you’re done.” Mom said, smiling widely but with a hard edge to her voice.
“That’s fair.” Tanya allowed. “I won’t start until I get back. I’ll leave for the Motherlobe after breakfast, should take me…” Tanya did some calculations. “About seven hours of full speed flight.”
“Where are you, anyway?” Mom asked. “I could get the jet and fly there overnight.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Tanya said. Mom was not important enough to be able to borrow the jet for personal reasons without expending an obscene amount of political capital. “I found some temporary work at a small family business, and am staying with them for the time being. It’s not a place where a government plane would be a welcome sight. That was why I stayed, after all.” Even if the Psychonauts were not technically a part of the United States government, it was an immaterial difference to the layman. Quite frankly, there were actual Psychonauts who didn’t understand the difference. It functionally was the psychic law enforcement agency of the country, but it’s technically psychic Interpol, not the psychic FBI. It just… acted like the psychic FBI when the USA allowed it. Which was always. It was a bit of an international relations nightmare, and Tanya didn’t know how it didn’t collapse, but it seemed to work.
Mom frowned. “Are you safe?” She asked.
Tanya smiled at the question. She’s never been asked that question before, with that mixture of concern and trust. It was nice. “I am.” She confirmed, adamantly refusing to acknowledge Nona as a threat. She looked at the terrain, noting the whole world pulsing with the beat of her heart. It was painful just watching it… “I’ll leave as soon as I can say my goodbyes. I promise.”
Mom chewed on her lip as she thought about the situation. “I’ll leave behind a small bit of myself to maintain the connection.” Mom eventually said. “Just take a sniff of…” She paused in thought. “I did put some talcum powder in your bag. Smell that to call me.” Ah, right. Tanya blushed at the thought of that particular plastic bag she found in her luggage. Mom smiled mischievously at Tanya’s embarrassment.
“U-understood.” Tanya said, leaping out of her mind before Mom could start teasing her.
----------------
It only took a few more minutes of staying very still and looking at the stars before she was interrupted. “How’re ya doin?” Asked Dion, who was, surprisingly, one of the earlier risers of the family.
Tanya winced at the noise. Ugh, worse than a hangover... “I feel like my brain is dribbling out my ears…” She said honestly.
“Been there.” Dion said sympathetically. “Math sucks.” Tanya chuckled at the joke.
Ow. It hurts to laugh. “It’s a little more serious than that, I’m afraid.” Tanya said. “I’ll be able to get treatment back home.” Given that there was supposed to be a week of taking things easy before she got hit by Agent Cruller’s boobytrapped head, she expected this to take at least two. Good news was, that time would include Mom being around full time to take care of her, which was definitely something to look forward to.
“So you’re leaving?” Dion asked, his voice hurt.
“I don’t know what your father has told you…” Tanya replied. “...but it’s complicated. I didn’t want to leave home, but I was convinced I had to.” There was that almost-empty jar of pickles in the pantry cart… That should help her headache. Hopefully Donatella won’t beat her to it.
“...that doesn’t make any sense.” Dion said.
“It doesn’t have to.” Tanya snapped, heat pooling in her hands as she prepared to discipline this insubordinate- before pausing to calm down. What was that? “I can’t stay here, that's the important part.” She finished.
A moment of companionable silence passed between the two of them before it was ruined. “...wanna kiss?” Dion asked, attempting a rakish grin.
“Ew, no!” Tanya immediately replied, recoiling in disgust before clutching their head. “Ow, ow, ow.” Too much emotion. Head hurts. Ow. Damn children…
----------------
“So, I thank you for your hospitality, but I must go.” Tanya finished, bowing ever so slightly in a remnant of Japanese etiquette. She’d have bowed deeper, but even that little made her headache worse.
Razputin hugged Tanya’s leg. “Don’t go!” He exclaimed, tears in his eyes. “You need to teach me psychic stuff! You promised!” She did no such thing.
“Razputin, I must.” Tanya insisted. “Once you learn to read better, and write too, we can exchange letters.” She’s seen Augustus go over mail, so they clearly have some sort of arrangement with the post office… “Once you’re older, I’ll see what I can arrange.” Should she tell them about the summer camp? It’s still technically classified… “I’ll see if I can send you some True Psychic Tales, fresh off the presses.”
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That seemed to appease the crying child. “Y-you promise?” He asked, sniffling.
“Yes, it shouldn’t be difficult.” Particularly as she’s not committing to any specific quantity. Worst case, she’ll just buy a dozen issues and send them along. They’re only thirty cents each. Comic books are not an expensive hobby.
Augustus pulled Razputin away from Tanya’s leg. “Well, if you want any help getting home, we’ll be happy to provide it.” He offered.
Well, she was planning on just flying, so… “That…”
…
…
“-nya?” Augustus asked, shaking her shoulder. What just happened? “Oh, you’re back.” Augustus said.
Something was irritating her nose. Tanya grabbed a napkin and blew her nose with it, checking it to see… okay, no blood. That was a relief. “What happened?” Tanya asked.
Frazie answered the question first. “You just kind of spaced out. Lights were on, but nobody was home.”
“It looked like a dissociative episode to me.” Nona said, startling people with her seriousness and elocution. “It’s a bad sign after Gussie’s punchup inside your head. Maybe some intracranial bleeding, but it’s probably just an associative detachment or five. You need to see a doctor. Get your head looked at.” Everyone glanced at her in confusion after seeing psychic-specific medical terminology come out of the old woman’s mouth, but given that she is secretly one of the Psychic Seven, Tanya was only mildly surprised she remembered that kind of thing. “I used to know a good one… I think.”
Well. “...On second thought, if you could drop me off at the nearest Psychonauts office, they’ll be able to take things from there.” Tanya said after picturing one of those episodes happening when she was two hundred meters in the air. “There was a branch office in the last town, but there’s another one seventy miles further down I-40, across the state line.” Those tiny branch offices were really more logistical stations than anything else. Practically a truck stop. It would probably be abandoned once the anticipated budget cuts that Congress has been talking about come into effect. But they had phones with access to the Motherlobe’s direct office lines and a landing pad for the jet. The psitanium engine made any craft a VTOL, so it was really more a giant parking spot than anything resembling a runway.
Augustus stood up, putting away his empty plate. “Well, we should get going then. Donatella, go ask Payne to run the first show of the day. Get as much help as you can. I’ll be back in four hours.”
Once she was settled into the front seat of the pickup truck, Tanya dug through her bag. “What are you doing?” Augustus asked as she fished out the talcum powder.
“Eh, Mom put an alarm in my head last night.” Tanya explained. “If I smell this, she’ll know I need to tell her something and project herself across the connection.”
“...I understood maybe half of that.” Augustus admits.
“I’m calling Mom on my psychic phone. She set her phone number to the smell of talcum powder.” Tanya clarified before gently squeezing the bottle, sniffing the resulting cloud of dust. Much more pleasant than smelling salts.
After a few seconds, Tanya felt Mom’s presence. “Tanya? Is there a change of plans?” It was like she was right by Tanya’s ear, whispering. She could sort of make out Mom’s face in her peripheral vision, too. It was a strange variation on telepathic communication, but to be a psychic is to become used to strangeness.
“I’m not sure I can fly that far right now.” Tanya admitted, tears inexplicably welling up as she relaxed. Mom was here. “I’m getting a ride to the Psychonauts base near the border of Virginia and Tennessee, on I-40.”
“I’m on my way. I love you.”
----------------
[May Daye aka Mary Sioux]
Degurechaff’s mom was nice. Part of her wanted to cry at the news that this life’s parents had mysteriously vanished, but they stuck her in the nuthouse, so another part of her hoped that they got themselves shot by Imperials.
Miss Milla, on the other hand, was incensed that they had “abandoned” her, and that was pretty cool. Mary did think it was perhaps a bit soon to go that far, but she wasn’t going to discourage Miss Milla from treating her nicely because of it.
She decided that she liked this flavor of gum as she blew a bubble. The Dayes were incredibly opposed to anything the pastor said was the work of the Devil that week, and while yes, God was always watching and you needed to act righteously to enter the Kingdom of Heaven… Mary was pretty sure he didn’t care about spicy gum. She had met him, after all.
Also… she wasn’t so sure he was watching anymore. Mary wasn’t so prideful that she assumed she could call on God whenever she wanted just because she was on a holy mission… but something like ‘I found Degurechaff’ probably merited some kind of response?
At least she was sure that her blessings were intact. God had mentioned that the holy blessings she was given to contest Degurechaff’s power would be in this life, too, but she never dared test the one that let her regrow an arm. It took another review of that memory, but that was definitely what happened before Tanya started bringing out her own holy blessing.
The fact that Degurechaff was also on a mission from God, even if she didn’t want to be, and probably actively avoided trying to complete it, explained perfectly why Mary died. It was somewhat less useful in explaining how God could ‘lose’ her, but Mary liked to think of it as her being blessed enough to see a little behind the curtain.
God was not all powerful, as he could have problems, one that he needed her to fix. God was not all knowing, as he could lose track of a soul. She used to think that he was still benevolent… but the anger, the disappointment, the hurt in Degurechaff’s voice…
Mary had started reading her Bible, ever since Miss Milla placed her within the apartment that she lived in with Degurechaff. Her room was… pretty much what she’d expect from Degurechaff, actually. At least, after getting to know her a little better during the camp. It was rather barren, with a bed, desk, and dresser. There was very little childish about it, with few exceptions. Even those were things like her pink hairbrush with the ribbon on it, or a few outfits that languished at the bottom of drawers or in otherwise unfavored positions in the closet. Things that were definitely gifts, not things Degurechaff would pick out for herself.
There were a surprisingly large number of places in the Bible where God just… did things to people. Things that, thinking about it, kind of sucked to have happen to you. Sure, some of them were richly-deserved wrath, but other times…
She tried to imagine Degurechaff getting visited by God as she died, some thirty-two year old woman. He tells her that she was chosen for a holy quest, reincarnated with her memories intact for… tracking down some heretic? But who?
If she assumes that Tanya had the same blessings she did… no wait, the injury she took at Norden. She couldn’t possibly have the same healing blessing that Mary has. This is hard.
Still, Degurechaff was supposed to be returning today. Miss Milla had left to go pick her up from… wherever she flew off to. Mary doesn’t really understand what the hell was going on there. She was fine after she fixed Mr. Cook, but when she meditated to ‘finish the job’... she started hallucinating or something, terrified out of her wits and firing a PSI blast right in Mary’s face. It wasn’t full strength as she still had a head, but if she didn’t have that healing blessing… Well, she did, so it wasn’t worth thinking about.
Mary had passed the time by messing around with some toys she found in a box at the back of Degurechaff’s closet. It was mostly green army men (the bucket they came in called them that) and some odd plastic triangle-shaped planes, so she decided to recreate one of the battles on the Southern Continent, one where she didn’t get to fight Degurechaff.
“Pshhhhh, boom!” She said as she crashed the Imperial plane she killed onto the Imperial formations. “We have air superiority!” She declared, giggling. “The Imperial mages are fleeing! Commence artillery spells!” Mary didn’t know how Tanya managed to get reasonable replicas of aerial mage flight suits for her two fashion dolls, but they were handy for this. “Boom, boom! The Imperials are in full retreat, the battle is won! For a free Francois!” Mary giggled as she flicked the few remaining Imperial army men away from the battlefield.
Ugh… she was going to have to pick those things back up, wasn’t she? Well, she could use it as telekinesis practice. A tiny golden hand manifested around each toy as she called it to her, placing it back into the bucket. She was done with the army men.
Boooooooored… Miss Milla’s been gone since breakfast, and it’s… two in the afternoon? She should cook something.
Learning to cook by absorbing it from someone’s mind was, at times, rather strange. She occasionally got flashes of stray emotion or memory when she did something new, although that had slowed down as she practiced, as it never happened when she did something that she had done previously. Miss Milla said that was a normal side-effect.
That said, Miss Milla also didn’t go grocery shopping yet in favor of her frantic search for Degurechaff, so the pantry was getting pretty barren, even with Miss Milla ordering takeout instead of cooking six times since she got here. If Mary was a real six year old, with her adult self looking at the situation, she’d have a thing or two to say about leaving the six year old alone for this long… but she wasn’t actually six, and Miss Milla knew that, so it was fine.
Mary ended up using the last of… pretty much everything, to make herself some french toast and butter noodles, along with the last apple. Well, she actually made way too much, because her eyes were much bigger than her stomach. She made an adult portion without thinking about it, and unlike the last time this happened, she couldn’t just pass it off as making food for Miss Milla too.
The sound of the door unlocking interrupted Mary’s thoughts. Or can she? Mary quickly took the excess food and put pot lids on the plates. Miss Milla entered the apartment carrying a… sleeping? Degurechaff. A pink telekinesis hand helped her support the smaller girl’s weight, and a second one appeared and between them set her down on the couch. A third hand carried Degurechaff’s luggage.
Degurechaff was wearing a very familiar gown. Paper-thin and a light blue color, it was exactly the thing they gave to patients at the asylum, like a hospital gown but without being open in the back. Disposable and sterile, easily torn if needed.
“Welcome back.” Mary said. “I made lunch! I’ve been keeping it warm for you.” She lied.
Miss Milla looked tired, but smiled at Mary’s ‘consideration’. “Thank you, Mary. Did you make enough for Tanya?”
At least she didn’t need to lie here. “I made all that was left.” She said. “We’re kind of… out of food now.”
Miss Milla looked surprised, but then thought for a moment. “Oh, I forgot to go shopping. I hope you can forgive me, Mary. I’ve just been so very worried for Tanya.”
“It’s fine.” Mary lied. Left alone in a strange apartment she’s not allowed to leave with diminishing supplies? Of course it’s fine. “We just need to fix that today.” She looked at Degurechaff. “...Is she okay?”
Miss Milla started eating the food. “No.” She said simply after swallowing the first bite. “We’re working on it, though. She’s going to be fine.”
Oh. This was probably her fault, wasn’t it? “...What happened?” Mary asked.
“Ah, she tripped some kind of mental landmine Ford had in his head.” Miss Milla explained after finishing the french toast. “I shouldn’t go into much detail, but she was in a constant state of panic for several days.” She paused to eat a bit more. “Long story short, the help she found for her condition was… not gentle. Her mind was already rather fragile after… well, you know.” Mary nodded grimly. Even with the knowledge that Tanya really was older than Mary was, Mary really shouldn’t have pushed her like that. “So, we have to take things slow and make sure that she’s put together correctly. It’s not as bad as Ford’s condition, but it’s somewhat similar in nature.”
Oh dear. She’d pray for Tanya, but given what happened last time… She better not. “How long is it going to take?”
Miss Milla finished the last of the food, primly dabbing at her lips with a napkin before starting to clean up. “It’s difficult to say.” She hedged. “It could take a day or a month. Eventually, our work will pass a tipping point and the damage will just… fix itself.” Oh, like how Mr. Park Ranger’s mind pulled itself together after Tanya put all those pieces in one place. “I expect that it will be multiple weeks, though. I’m working on it now.”
Oh right, that thing Agent Nein was doing when he was facing the Devil of the Rhine. “Oh, so you’re not really here?”
“Most of me is helping Tanya in her head.” Miss Milla confirmed. Mary glanced at the girl in question, unmoving from the couch and with a trail of drool pooling under her head. “She was given a nutrient-heavy protein shake before we began the treatment, so don’t worry about her lunch.” Was that the same oatmeal-like sludge they fed her at the asylum? That’s what they called it there too. Poor Degurechaff.
Briefly, Mary opened up her mind to Degurechaff’s, attempting to read what was going on. Degurechaff’s conversation with Miss Milla within her head immediately became audible. “-ell, it’s embarrassing. No one’s going to respect me if they know.” She said. Damn, she must have missed something juicy.
“Tanya, you should never feel shame about wanting to be loved. Everyone wants that. Anything that gets linked to ‘Mom’s love’ in your head is my fault anyway, so I take full responsibility.” Miss Milla said consolingly. Aw, she’s embarrassed by how much she loves her mommy, that’s adorable. “More importantly, this is not the time to be trimming your associative network, any of it. I agreed to cut that one earlier because relapsing to alcohol as a coping mechanism is all kinds of unhealthy, but we need to be building connections, not cutting them. After you’re all better, if you still feel the same way, then we’ll talk.” She was a drunkard too? This is great.
“How did that connection survive, anyway? Sure, there were several times where I wanted a drink during the war, but one would think it had atrophied.” Degurechaff said, slightly changing the subject.
“It was buried deep in your subconscious, where it would only rarely surface.” Miss Milla explained. “But after what happened, nothing’s buried anymore. After dismantling the damaged sections, everything’s just floating around, which is half the problem. You have stray impulses just going everywhere.”
“Is that why I keep defaulting to Japanese manners? In that case, perhaps we should just move on to a less fraught topic.” Degurechaff said, changing the subject entirely. “I’m pretty sure that ‘flight’ is supposed to be connected to more than just ‘fun’.”
“Well, yes, that one’s pretty obvious. An easy-” Mary’s eavesdropping was suddenly interrupted by Miss Milla’s actual voice. “Stop that!” That’s very rude of you.”
Mary winced. “I’m sorry…” She said insincerely.
Miss Milla didn’t seem to believe her. “Well, time to go shopping.” She picked Degurechaff back up telekinetically. “...I shouldn’t have rejected the wheelchair.” She murmured to herself before going into a cross-legged stance while floating in the air and settling Tanya down on her lap. “Yes, this works.”
“...Why don’t we just leave her here?” Mary asked.
Miss Milla shook her head. “I shouldn’t leave her alone. But…” She spent a moment thinking about it. “...I need more brainpower.” She said after a while. Psychic energy erupted from Degurechaff’s head, sinking into Miss MIlla’s head.
Degurechaff jerked awake, then clutched her head. “Ah, why does it hurt more?” She whined.
“That’s why we have to take things slow, Tanya.” Miss Milla replied. “We were overdue for a break anyway.” Degurechaff grunted in effort, actually acting like a kid for once, and tried and failed to sit up in Miss Milla’s lap. She helped Degurechaff sit up and hugged her closely. Degurechaff hugged back, whining in pain. “Shhh… everything’s going to be fine, Tanya. I’m still here.”
…This was super awkward to watch. Apparently, Degurechaff acts her age (wait, isn’t she supposed to be twelve?) when she’s sick. Eventually, Miss Milla set Degurechaff up with a big glass of water mixed in with some pickle brine (ew), put some kind of psychic earmuffs on her head, wrapped her up in a blanket like a burrito, then stashed her in the linen closet buried in a pile of towels to suffer her headache in utter silence for the half hour it would take for the two of them to get groceries.
Mary hoped Tanya would get better soon.