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August Kohler It was a clear evening, the sun still setting. Alberichstadt's major park didn't have many people in it, but there were still a few milling about, having dinner, feeding the ducks. That was exactly what August Kohler wanted. He had called Flamel Parsons, telling him that he wanted to trade 'each other's secrets'. He knew he had been trusted with the information he had, but even if he'd been quiet about it for the last few months, it was still eating at him. What was going on inside his mind? People had said there were problems, but they never told him what. He needed to know.

August had left the shack in sort of a hurry, and didn't seem to be just out going shopping. In probably the most shocking thing he's ever done, if Atalanta talked to him at all about it, he'd say 'go ahead and come with me'. If something happens because of this information, he wants someone to help restrain him, at the least. He'd also started writing up a text message for someone else he was hoping could make it.

Once at the park, August waited at a table, as he designated. He looked over his phone, pretending to just mind his own business, but really, he was watching his messages and waiting. And wondering if this was all worth it.
Atalanta      Heading into Alberichstadt means that Atalanta had to, uh... dress down...? The green and blonde-haired lion is in a very long coat with a hood, one that goes down to her knees so only her shins and feet can be seen, and the hood is pulled up to cover her lion ears. Her tail is, of course, hidden because of the coat. She doesn't actually have Tauropolos directly on hand, but in the closest tree, ready for her to grab at any moment.

     The lioness quietly paces around the table, not willing to sit down and relax. Something is going on, she can tell by her Master's behavior, and she likes it not one bit.
Flamel Parsons     Flamel Parsons has shown up in the least conspicuous outfit he has, which of course involves a coat and large hat effective enough to qualify this for a Spy vs. Spy cosplay. He hasn't sat down near August, of course, because spy secret exchanges are done by sitting vaguely near the other party but not visibly interacting. He takes a seat at a table nearby, facing away from August, clapsing his hands together. And he smiles eagerly in a way that somehow radiates from his back. "Hi!" He says mentally, offering a telepathic link to August. Given the inherent master/servant connection between him and Atalanta, this will also be quite "audible" to her as well, and she can certainly easily poke into it.

    "It's been a while! How's the stress been feeling? I know we're here for other business, but I've been pretty worried." He's just so goddamn... FRIENDLY all the time! "I'm ready to trade some stuff when you are! I'm not sure which of the secets harbored by my vague yet menacing government agency you're looking for, but I'm sure you can get a very sensible price for them." And still such a weirdo.

    He seems to think August might be looking for more harmless spy secrets. Who /really/ killed JFK, for example, or where NASA stores the fake moon at daytime. This will likely change once he understands more of the weight of the situation.
August Kohler August hadn't really explained what was going on, as he only briefly acknowledges Flamel being physically there with a glance. Seems they're doing this subtly. Luckily, Atalanta will get her explanation from the recap, as August communicates telepathically. "Parsons. Hasn't been as much of an issue, though I'm having weird dreams that make me think about it. I don't know if there's still a problem inside my mind or not, but that's only slightly relevant." August steeples his fingers together, looking up to where Atalanta's pacing briefly. He's not entirely aware she can hear the telepathic communication, but he doesn't actually care, either. "I want to know what was going on inside there. I want the full situation, because I know it was dangerous and horrifying and I don't like being left in the dark." August pulls out a can of soda from his pocket, cracking it open and taking a drink. Looks like some sort of cola, as August grabs another one and slides it across the table towards Atalanta's direction.

"Tell me what went on in there. If you need me to give you something in exchange, I have something that'd be worthwhile to you, something about your past." It took August a bit before saying this to decide if he was actually going to do it. But the dreams were problematic. He hadn't told anyone about them, but they were violent, and they always ended in fire. Even if he was less stressed during the day, part of him just knew it was connected to all of this. A gut feeling. August speaks out loud towards Atalanta, still unaware. "Come on, sit down. Have a drink. Weather's nice, and we haven't been out in town like this before."
Atalanta      Atalanta eyes the newcomer. She's not fond of strangers in the first place, and males are even worse. She keeps packing for a minute, but it's now specifically on Augusts' side of the table rather than looping around, so she's capable of keeping her eyes on both of them. When the telepathic link starts up, Atalanta freezes for a minute or two, which is wholly unexpected for her - she's been very confident, so far.

     She settles down when she realizes it's probably the strange person 'quietly' communicating with her strange Master.

     The lioness eventually settles down next to August on the bench, picking up the can of cola. She doesn't drink it, of course; it just sits there in her hands, being a nice distraction for her as she examines it curiously.
Flamel Parsons     "That's... Hmmm. That's dangerous information. I mean, even for a vague yet menacing government agency, we try to keep the really iffy data off the market. You've got to understand, it takes a lot of training to really be able to healthily handle self-awareness. There's a reason that we made sure Brain Tumblers can't go on the public market. If you get too caught up in your own head, it's even harder to break a negative loop." Parsons says, gesturing in kind but plaintive ways in both physical and telepathic space. "It's not that I don't think you should know the truth, really, it's that I don't really think I'm good enough at saying it that it to stop it from reinforcing a bad loop. There's actually a whole infrastructure in most minds meant to filter out the kind of self-awareness you're asking for here, because boy it can be /dangerous/!"

    "Guhhhh... Jeeze, though, you're sure you know something? I mean-- Darn, I can't even think of any mysteries in my past, it all fits together really well. Can you give me a hint?" His tone actually becomes... Kind of urgent, subtly. It's not likely he'll be able to hold out on August if August can break a little of his memory integrity, given how obsessed Parsons tends to be about acquiring secrets.
August Kohler "I thought that'd happen." August says, telepathically sighing. "Which is why I offered a trade. What I'm about to tell you is something I was urged to be cautious on, but if it's what I need to do to fix this, I will. Before I tell you any more, I both want some information, and I want to know for sure that you want to know this. The person who told me this really cares about you." There's a twinge of guilt. August knows what he's doing is wrong, that he's exploiting Flamel. He moves over to Atalanta's can. "Open that tab. And then drink. It's good."

Finally speaking telepathically again, August says it. "1956. The year was 1956."
Atalanta      Atalanta listens to the conversation, masking it with her fascination with the cola. This persists for a moment before she cracks it open, her ears twitching under the hood at the crack of noise from the can itself in the process. She tastes a sip of it. Her face immediately goes scrunchy, nose pinched. She makes a bluh noise, and then with the perfect sense of annoyance she has at the moment, over the link-

     "I can hear you two..."
Flamel Parsons     "Right! Yeah, I remember 1956, that's when the Psychonauts finished--" Parsons starts, before his telepathic link completely shorts out. Atop that hat of his, a little bit of arcing psychic energy looks like something went wrong within, briefly. Then he's back on the link. "The Psychonauts finished... Something, I can't remember what he was doing for me. I don't think I..." He shakes his head. He's definitely too young to have been around in 1956 though. What gives?

    "Sorry, I don't think I can say anything about what happened in 1956. Because... Of something. No, I wasn't even there. I was born in 1995-- er, no, 1996, right? So I wasn't even there." He seems to be trying to sort of mentally stabilize something. "But... Okay, something's relevant there at least! I can... Hnnnh, I can't think about this for some reason." It's sort of like watching a dog try to figure out a television when you yourself do not understand a television. He's mentally starting and stopping several times.

    Then, suddenly, "Oh! I didn't know there was already someone on this psychonetwork. Hi! I'm Agent Flamel Parsons, I've been helping out August sometimes with Psychonautry. Good to to meet you, Ms...?" He's being very friendly. But he's sort of sweating internally. Knowledge of an internal psychic gap has him anxious in a way that's hard to describe but seems to be growing in intensity with no visible upper bound, however mild it seems to be right now.

    "I mean-- Listen, August, I can tell you it cleanly and easily, but you've gotta understand that it's going to be something you'll probably get into a very bad mental space about, it might make the problem worse, it could... I don't know! Actually, because you have totally undocumented and untested psychokinetic abilities it could do all kinds of things. So just..." He makes an urgent noise and a weird psychokinetic flicker at his table elicits a tiny crack along the wood of the table he's sitting at. "Promise you'll take it slow figuring it out and I'll tell you, if you tell me everything you know about the..." His odd psychic events flicker again. "About what happened in 1956. Alright?"

    His tone of voice is like the sort of tone a drug addict would use right before selling his dog to buy more product. Awareness that something is unethical in ways he hates thinking about, but a sort of compelled inability to avert that anyway.
August Kohler Flamel's behavior is worrying. As he begins to short out, stopping and starting at times, August cringes. Is he doing this? Is it worth it to continue? Atalanta speaks up on the link, and August startles, almost falling back in his seat. He slowly lifts himself back up, staring at her. He keeps the communication telepathic. "I take it you heard the whole thing. Alright, alright. Well, if something happens, she's here to subdue me." August didn't tell her this part of the plan in advance.

It's gone too far, and Flamel clearly states the dangers, but August can feel it right there. Just tell him and he'll know. A part of him inside tells him that he wants to know, needs to know. That it'll help him bypass his problems to know. August slowly picks back up his can, takes a sip, and holds the can as he communicates. "When you first dove into my mind, I found something. Some sort of fragment. An old man who looked kind of like Albert Einstein told me that what I'm about to tell you would...be dangerous for you. I'm sorry if it is. But we both have things we want to know, and we're both obviously willing to risk ourselves for them. If this backfires, I'll take responsibility, like always." The last part is towards himself, as he takes a breath.

"Project Mystic. It's called Project Mystic, from 1956. Whatever it is, you purposely drove it out of your mind." August takes a pause. If he's doing this... "If this causes you problems, I'll help you. It's the least I can do for revealing this all to you. Now, tell me what I want to know."
Atalanta      Atalanta puts the cola can down.

     Atalanta heads over to the tree, withdrawing the lovely bow nearly as big as she is. She returns to the table, and sits on the table itself, between the two as she sits crosslegged, her bow in her lap. She draws two fingers over the bow, green arrows glimmering to life.

     Link- "I don't know what's going on. But Master's proved himself willing to do anything for anyone, especially if it makes them happy. It's why he's my Master, now - and where my Master goes, I go too." A pause. "You may call me Archer." Well, it's a introduction, but not very much of one..
Flamel Parsons     "Like Albert Einstein... You found a piece of Ford Cruller?" Flamel says, eyebrows shooting to the top of his face in both telepathic tone and in physical space. "Project--!" He starts, before going utterly silent, both in telepathic sound and in the real world. His breath catches in his throat and he holds it for longer than he should. Over the telepathic network, though... His mind flickers something more odd. No words this time, just images.

    A mountain full of strange grwoths of twisting purple stone that seem to infest the earth inside sweeping, massive caverns. An aged Cold-War-era bunker wrought of heavy steel sits at the core of it, where huge congregations of the growths of purple stone seep into the steel. And rows and rows of glittering glass tubes within still gleam with a shining violet fluid. And far outside, at the start of a path leading up the mountain, an aged, broken sign marks...

                                 MASLOW PEAK                                  
                   UNAUTHORIZED PERSONS STRICTLY PROHIBITED                  

    "...Alright." Parsons says, finally resuming his breathing, before he gives up on his odd behaviors entirely for a moment. He stands up from his table and moves over to where August is sitting, taking his sunglasses off and planting his palms on the table itself. "I don't know what it'll do, but I'm keeping my word. August. Your Shadow is trying to manifest. It was infesting -- controlling -- your entire subconscious emotional infrastructure. It wants to take over and go to some kind of logical philosophical conclusion of your beliefs that ends in mass deaths. It's a high-tier psychohazardous cognitive construct. If it got substantial control it would be bad, if it got out in any kind of psychologically compelling form it'd be worse. How it could interact with the collective unconscious, with your Persona manifestation, with any of the undocumented psychokinetic phenomena, I have no idea, but I know it wants very badly to kill a very large number of people."

    Parsons' eyes are... Twitchy, in a distressed way. It looks like he's trying to figure something out. He's... Very likely to go to that "Maslow Peak" soon, judging by the way he's mouthed it a few times in his silent rambles.
August Kohler The image flicker in August's mind, and he recoils briefly...before taking it in. This is what Flamel was hiding. This is whatever Project Mystic is connected to. August takes a breath as Parsons comes forward, actually a bit surprised at seeing him without the sunglasses. This is serious. And then, Flamel explains it to him.

August doesn't respond, Part way in, when Flamel mentions 'mass deaths', August twitches. He's deathly silent, but seems to be listening intently. It's the last sentence that sets August off, as he suddenly clenches the fist holding the can tight. The soda spills out of it, before the can starts crunching, with strength that August hasn't shown before. It bends and breaks, as the jagged aluminum slices into his palm, cutting hard into it and drawing blood. August isn't actually superhuman, and can't do much more than that, but he doesn't do anything about the wound, as he suddenly screams out. It's not loud, but it's angry, full of a rage at something, as the sharp can parts are flung as far as they'll go. The scream is almost sort of...crackly at one point? It's absolutely reminiscent of the voice of a Shadow, even if it's super brief.

August doesn't move from the seat, even as people in the park turn to look at him. No, he's thinking and fuming. He's probably going to need some help.
Atalanta      Atalanta is confused and her confusion makes her angry. Her claw-gloved hands tighten on the bow in her lap as the arrows shift from being 'one at Flamel, one at August', into 'both at Flamel', especially when Augusts' reaction goes through as she sees blood on his hands. Atalanta's anger takes awhile to build. August is a male. He is not young - but he is /her/ Master...

     ... and as people will remember, Atalanta gives no damns. She never has.

     She finally gets off of the table, her back stiff. The back of the coat is moving around like there's a tail swishing around agitatedly. (There is.) She still speaks through the link, before her hands reach out and she touches August, for the first time since they've met. "Master- stop. Don't hurt yourself. Don't hurt him. You promised to stay safe. This isn't the way to do it. Don't like this, don't like people, don't like him." She's attempting to coax his hand into her grip so she can pull the can out of his grip. At this point, her ears are flickering for a moment before they go flat. Once she manages - or gives up, after a few minutes - to wrangle the can free, she stalks over to the nearest recycling bins. Gathering her arrow on the way, Atalanta stalks back off towards the Black Forest after disposing of the can. It's, uh...

     ... it's not a lot of help, but that's probably the nicest Atalanta's been to August yet.
Flamel Parsons     Once she's back, Parsons gestures to her. He could see that hostility, and well understand it. "Ms. Archer." Parsons says, wincing visibly. "I'm sorry. I don't know him well, and you probably know him better-- Well, no, I've seen inside his mind, but I'm awful at saying these sorts of things." He makes a plaintive gesture. What he says next is as much to August as to her. "There's a reason that people like us are secretive. It's not about keeping other people out, it's just that we never know the right way to say it without hurting people. Usually better to just stay vague yet menacing. Awareness of the self isn't... It doesn't make you feel good. There's a reason so few people have it." A little sadness leaks into the wording there.

    "I need to... Try to sort some things out. I need to look back into older records." Parsons mutters. "Need to find the Maslow Peak facility records and..." He makes strained sounds. He's not dealing with this well himself, but more because of confusion and disorientation than distress and pain. "Sorry. Good luck to both of you. I'm still here to help with Psychonautry, if you... Think you'll need it."

    He'll fade into invisibility after any replies; it's the way he tends to leave when feeling stressed about things like this.
August Kohler August only speaks up to say one thing. "I'll be there to help you." The can is ripped out of his hand easily, as he sits there for several moments until he can calm down. After that, he leaves to follow Archer back, even though she's probably long gone. He knows now, and he wants to stop whatever's in there. He's going to need to think about this.