Scene #8977: JPT: Into the Whispering Valley

Owner	Pose
Flamel Parsons	WELCOME TO WHISPERING VALLEY So declares a sign that's been built at the site of another sign's destruction, an old, busted wooden one that once read "WELCOME TO SHAKY CLAIM". Getting here is a classic car ride, even a Psychonauts-run bus ride for some, down a two-lane road that's barely maintained because it barely needs it, through rolling hills and eventually a dense forest of twisty old-growth trees, until you reach the entrance. https://i.imgur.com/iFyuHQU.png Park or step off, then head through the main gate. Everything's a little uneven here, you can tell the camp counselors (and maybe even campers) have built the place with their own hands. Telekinesis is no substitute for good building skill. Still, the warm summer energy here comes off of the place in waves. https://i.imgur.com/MyewLjp.png The young campers can be heard at a distance: Band practice in the Main Lodge, kids shouting near Lake Oblongatta or by the western treeline. But they're kids, too. Many sit with phones, listen to music, watch funny videos, read together, mess around on funny projects, walk aimlessly, or just cause problems. One kid with discolored skin and some puffy curls looks like he's smoking -- and not having a good time of it, based on the coughing. He puts it out hastily as soon as the first adult eye is on him. Not too much time to spend around the kids though. Gotta head to the reception area and generalized gathering space. https://i.imgur.com/hQadwwZ.jpeg This is the adult version of the reception. For adults. That means a little table of small snacks is added in, as well as a pair of racks of more informative and straightforwardly educational brochures showing the facilities in more detail. Flamel's already here, sitting at the edge of the main stage -- as well as other psychonaut presence, material or immaterial! There's also some weird little guy (https://i.imgur.com/9HEYGSh.jpeg) here too, who's finishing up some cleanup after some other event with the kid-campers. What's his deal? Who knows, honestly. Strange fellow. "You here now? Hear now? A bunch of eager ones? Eager to learn, or just play? Hear to train hard, hmmm? Develop a skill? Ready to improve yourself and fight a noble fight?" This old man rambles at the newcomers, gesturing with immense gravitas.
Kale Hearthward	CAMP TIME! Kale Hearthward shows up not just in stuffed cargo pants and a survival vest, but also wearing a hiking backpack, the sort that has four days of supplies and clothing, bedroll, emergency kit, and an entire one-person tent strapped to it. It is incredibly overkill for this sort of camping? Actually, there's no question mark on that statement. Kale's gear is incredibly overkill for this sort of camping, and some of it is not just unnecessary but probably useless here. And he realizes it one minute after he reaches the parking lot. He knows it. And yet, ultimately, what is he to do with that realization? He's here already, and he flew in using his boots instead of his ship, so there's nowhere to stash the overkill of a backpack right now. And so he keeps wearing everything, and stubbornly isn't going to be the first one to bring up that he's overpacked and overdressed. ... The fact that this camp is full of literal children just drives the point home. "You're going to ruin your lungs," says Kale in passing to the one that was smoking something or other, but doesn't do or say anything besides that. "Oh, hey, uh - that last one. Train hard. Developing skills, definitely," says Kale. He's really not about to judge based on how weird he looks, even if he does look pretty weird. ... Oh, no, they have snacks. They're going to feed them here too. Kale has literally a week's worth of granola bars in his backpack and pockets. Those were entirely unnecessary, too. "Oh... hey Flamel. This is... the place, right?"
Angela	Lobotomy Corp has sent a strange combination to today's little venture. Parker, of all people, and Parker without a minder. Mostly. She does have an Angelapad on her arm at the moment and Angela is there, accidentally aimed in such a way that she's staring at the snacks. Parker isn't allowed to go to a summer camp while wearing a gross leathered face stuck to her face so she is no longer wearing the gross leather face on their face but Parker screamed and screamed and bit off one of Mikey's fingers (don't worry they replaced it) until a compromise was found by drawing several faces on paper and sticking one on Parker's forehead so that the piece of paper is covering her face. It is presently at :) and she has the other papers in her hand so it must have worked. It does not take psychics to recognize Parker has issues. Other than that she is a woman with blonde hair with a long ponytail pulled behind her and is wearing an L-Corp uniform (not allowed to bring flesh stapled on EGO Gear either to summer camp either) with a wristband that indicates she's part of the Extraction Team. Parker raises a hand up like she's in school when there's a strange little guy talking. "I'm here because I wear a face on my face!" Parker says. "Because the face on my face is my face! How many faces do you have?" She waves happily over to Kale and then leans back, arms crossed smugly like she nailed it. She collects a little snack bag and slides the snacks under her paper mask and munching can be heard. She tapes a piece of paper with a :D face on it to her forehead, over the previous one.
Meika Kirenai	PHONE: Salvador says, "A job request. Another investigation mission, and a bit of a long term one." PHONE: Salvador says, "It's called a summer camp--and I suspect it might have some things in common with a summer camp. But it's also a training camp...." PHONE: Salvador says, "We don't know too much about it, but we're hoping to get a lowdown on their training methods, who works there, and what exactly they seem to be hiding. They ''act'' like they're hiding something. They're pretty open about that. But ''what'' they are hiding, they still keep secret." . . . . . As it turns out, it's preemptively mortifying to churn through empty transit hours poring over a secret agenda to infiltrate and spy on a summer camp, as scenery shifts closer and closer to being on that camp's doorstep. In a partially-helpful technique to think about it less, knees-up as a makeshift passenger seat desk, she's simply scrawled out what to keep in mind about it all into her notebook, possibly the least secure spot to house hidden details save within her actual mind- the camp is for psychics, after all. Still- it's soothing to do something beyond the last dregs of mission briefings or ambient chatter, while cooped up in the passenger seat of Yuna- a coworker, co-mercenary, and drivers license-haver, -'s car. Putting graphite to paper is always, itself, somewhat nice. . . . . . The roadside sign feels like a point of no return, locked-in to seeing how this goes. Tentative plan in place, notebook slammed shut and put away, backpack full of scrounged-together outdoorsy things; as Meika hops out of Yuna's nearly old-fashioned seeming car and waves back at her, with evergreen and rockdust hanging softly in the summer air, there's really nothing that isn't normal to the action- the evironment feels nice, and the feeling lingers when her mind doesn't wander back to tasks at-hand. "Reception, reception, is there a sign around... Oh. Thataway, up the..." Meika tightens up the strap of her messenger bag, making-do as the closest thing she has to an overnight bag, and starts up the trail, brisk without knowing if she's late at all. That doesn't stop her from ambiently walking her fingers along the wooden trailside fencing, with reckless abandon to possible splinters. She's been camping one time in her memory, and it was nice- so sue her for having a little tidbit of fun along the way. 'You're going to ruin your lungs,' On-edge callout, Meika takes a second to gut-assume Kale isn't staff here- else he'd speak more authoritatively, she thinks -but not a second to really look his way, further up on ahead. Nobody says that if it's not to a kid smoking, and so- "Shove off and leave him alone," She grumbles, loud enough to be heard over creaky trail logs and footsteps.
Meika Kirenai	. . . . . Brochure tables snag interest immediately, in the reception area, and Meika stops at the racks of them first thing before even looking for a seat. She grabs one of each she can, and shoves a bunch of the collected ones into her bag without reading, yet- only keeping hold of a normal amount to skim through mid-orientation. Flamel himself catches passing familiarity- the Dawn Office had a photo on file, and his name, that he's someone of interest- bright red eyes train on him, before- 'Eager to learn, or just play? Hear to train hard, hmmm? Develop a skill?' "... Talkative groundskeeper..." Meika may have lost or drastically recontextualized a large portion of her memories, but she's still ambiently and outwardly sour to people. Unfortunate personality-alteration outcome, that. The notebook comes out, turned to blank pages, braced on her leg, to scrawl down notes on whatever Flamel seems about to present- she almost looks studious. That's new, from her. "... Um. Mister- Mister fursuiter? Could you move your bag, a little..? Or just toss it somewhere else? It's- you're blocking the view, like that." Uh oh. That's at Kale. Maybe it's good she doesn't recognize him. Maybe it just means the disdain is less diluted.
Petra Soroka	With her respirator pulled down for her helpful monologues, Psychonautra gnaws on her knuckle in a familiar gesture of deep thought, her eyes slowly sliding to Phony. "Now, I was kind of thinking you guys were all psychonarrative constructs in the mindscape to help me work through this all, but now I'm kind of... that doesn't make sense at all with Phony and Lilian here." She nods, her tone chipper again, despite her words. "Alright! I guess I'm the psychonarrative construct meant to help you! Sure felt real there for a second, haha, but not compared to you two. Guess I'll die when you're all done here, so I better make it count!" . . . "There. Now this world doesn't get to say when you stop existing. When your work's done, just slip through into me, okay?" MISSION LOG 23 FEB 31 AU; ??:??:?? (my watch currently reads 'time to relax', should i write that down??) LOCATION: THE MIND OF PERSEPHONE KORE GOAL: FIND SOMETHING TO DO Psychonautra flops down onto her back, letting her journal and pen fall to either side. Inside the mindscape of Persephone Kore, being rescued from the self-destructive impulses of Petra (henceforth known as... Primetra? Host Petra?) the abrupt shift from explosions and shattering glass to blanketing quiet still rings like tinnitus in her ears, even hours after the fact. In stark contrast to the unnerving and hollow domain of the Long Quiet, the room she's in now is a deep red, with gently curving walls like the most soothing concept of being held within a living organism. One wall is open, seamlessly lifted away without even a window in its place, to the beautiful expanses of outer space. Infinite stars glitter against black, not with the cold gleam of uncrossable lightyears, but like fireflies in a nighttime field, as if close enough to reach out your hand and touch. One at the center of it all, suffusing the entire mindscape with warm light, is a massive golden sun with a Persephone-shaped hole in the center, with orbiting rings of dust that only cast faint shadows where they pass by. Psychonautra is laying flat on a pastel yellow playmat, surrounded by scraps of plastic and disassembled tech. She has her respirator pulled off, but despite the apparent vacuum outside, she doesn't have the slightest trouble breathing, or getting burst inside out from the pressure differentials, or scorched by the unfiltered stellar rays-- It'd be an awful rescue if I let you worry about all that, ahaha! "You know what the job of a Psychonaut is?" She's not actually alone, though. Beside her, in the mess of salvaged tech that Psychonautra has collect-a-thon-ed from the disparate dreamlike segments of the Sapient Heuristics lab, is an anxious looking meerkat made of glittering cosmic nebulae, star-eyes wide and unblinking as it listens to the girl ramble. "Treating unhealthy minds. You know, finding the root emotional causes of individual-sourced violence and giving them a hand working it all out to make the world a little better. Sick-ass espionage, trauma-informed platforming, 'cause hurting people is rarely ever someone's first choice for mental medicine if they can help it." "So this," She sweeps a hand at the placid cosmos, dropping it down to scratch behind the meerkat's ears. "Well, you know, I've seen the charts; I've seen the data and everything, statistically vacations help with productivity, and no one wants a wound-up Psychonaut inside their head with a venting-chambered psi blast ready, but I can't survive on this little enrichment."
Petra Soroka	Psychonautra sits up abruptly, and grabs something off the ground to turn towards the meerkat. Edgeless plastic, containing psychic tech and assembled into the roughly half-finished form of a door-- a Psycho-Portal-- is subject to Psychonautra's focused frenzy of work again, esoteric-looking tools pulled out of her jumpsuit to tune clunky mechanisms together. "I've got to get out of here. Before Phony gets back to Sapient Heuristics. Thanks for the lifeline and all, real happy not to be dead, but if I'm stuck around a self-contained and therapeutically co-ordinated ecosystem of stable minds, then I've basically given up on being alive still!" . . . MISSION LOG 20 MAR 31 AU; 14:23:29) LOCATION: ED OATMAN; BUS DRIVER GOAL: LOCATE PROPER WORLD NOTES: Weeks of mind-hopping have brought me to exactly what I needed in order to close in on Whispering Rock: bus drivers. Ephemerally disconnected from the workings of the society around them, bus drivers spawn into the world just around the corner before they arrive at your stop, bridging worlds in a way no one else can. Now I just need to wait for Ed here to go home to the bus depot, where all bus drivers sleep, and we'll see if I can pick up a signal from one going to work near Lake Oblongata. . . . MISSION LOG 15 MAY 31 AU; Sunset??) LOCATION: SQUIRREL GOAL: COMPLAIN ABOUT YMP NOTES: I've managed to brain-hop my way to the forest around Whispering Rock. Which rocks! Love that. One step closer to actually getting my Psychonaut verification for real, rather than just the mentally constructed approximation I had, and there's no shot I'm making it to the Motherlobe blindly like this. The downside's that there wasn't a single dang adult on that bus besides the driver, and he's long since despawned. Right now, I'm just hoping that a counselor will wander into the woods and give me a piggyback ride into camp, but so far it's all just kids who want to chase around my host with a stick. At least that gives me some child-based Nightmares to fight off. There's not a single squirrel in this forest more mentally stable, and that's a job well done!
Petra Soroka	. . . The mind of a psychic bear isn't the best place to jury rig tech in the multiverse, but somehow, it's the best place in the forest. A vast spread of cobbled-together radars and sensors and alarms, implausibly made of sticks and leaves with a few military-armored walking fish monitoring the controls, is set up around Psychonautra as she lazes around. One of the sensors pings loudly, sending all of the fish assistants into a frenzy, and Psychonautra immediately scrambles to her feet to stare at the screens (drawings etched out onto a rock, being shuffled through at 12 FPS by a dutiful fish artist). "Oh my god! Someone's actually in range! Let's fucking go!" She turns and salutes the knee-high fish standing all around her, pulling down her goggles and setting up her makeshift Psycho-Portal on an easel with a tube pointed in a certain direction. "It's been an honor working with you all. I hope the dam builders remember the fear we've struck into their hearts." . . . Psychonautra plops out on the frigid shore of an island swathed in cold mist. Her red plastic door falls into the sand beside her, and she sits up to rub her head and look around, pulling up her goggles for a better look. Glacial chunks of icebergs drift around in the subtropical sea of an island meant to be far warmer than this, and frost-glittering green leaves line an overgrown path up to some sort of abandoned structure. MISSION LOG 29 JUNE 31 AU; Woah:Who:Cares) LOCATION: MEIKA KIRENAI (WHO IS 18 NOW, APPARENTLY) "... Some kind of alienation issue, I'd bet... stagnation and a failure to actualize? There's growth here at all, but it's inaccessible now because of the unseasonal weather, which... hmm...." Psychonautra mumbles to herself while bumbling around the sand, getting her bearings. She spots a glowing item buried in the sand nearby and beelines towards it, plucking out a purple crystalline microphone and brushing it off. "Oh! A psitanium mic! Would you look at that." Emitting from Meika's head, seemingly sourcelessly, is the crackling-feedback of a microphone being tapped three times. It's followed by a familiar voice with an unfamiliar tone, bright and chipper in a distinctly Flamel-esque way as she rambles. "Hey hey, host! Welcome to Whispering Rock, and wouldn't you know it, you've been chosen as the 'protagonist with a strange psychic anomaly' of this summer season! I'm Petra, your ride-along psychic construct best friend, here to be the initiating event of an exciting and uncomfortably introspection heavy summer experience you'll never forget!" She doesn't seem to be aware of anyone else present by default, but her externalized telepathy is projected into everyone's heads. "Haha, just kidding. Anyways, what's your name? Thanks for straying close to me."
Flamel Parsons	"I'll ruin you, narc." The insolent discolored teen mutters to Kale, quiet enough that it's almost inaudible due to his coughing. This is because he's afraid of the bird, and also because he doesn't actually like smoking even a tiny bit. But Meika gets a funny little nod. He appreciates the backup from a partly-teen, mostly-insolent. Meika acquired a MAP OF THE CAMP (https://i.imgur.com/VWx2OIh.png) with plenty of description of its various facilities and services. You're currently around the yellow area, though some expansion is noted in the brownish zone marked in the northeast end of the map.
Flamel Parsons	"Oh, hey, uh - that last one. Train hard. Developing skills, definitely," "So you're finally ready to become... a janitor." The old man stands tall, gesturing firmly to Kale. Flamel briefly laughs when he says that. "Yep! This is the place for Psychonatry and general Psychics night-class and training-camp work." Finally a more useful answer than this strange guy's ramblings. "Oh, that brain jub-jub? Talk to mister MIB over there. Out here in the real world, we push brooms, not bend spoons. Kheh." The janitor makes a brief, dismissive noise. "How many faces do you have?" Then the janitor looks to Parker and squints critically. "Five." He says, not explaining the answer. "But you start shedding something off that head of yours and I wring you like a wet mop, skin condition or no, you hear me girlie?"
Flamel Parsons	Psychonautra's voice broadcasting gets Flamel perking up, smiling a little more. "I was wondering!" He both says and telepathically broadcasts, snapping his fingers. "None of the kids got that this year, I guess I need to go tell Sasha later. Let's convene for that, good to hear you again!" He props himself up, standing properly on the stage. A handful of other in-training folks and Psychonaut camp-counselors are filtering in and Flamel happily starts giving the presentation. It's considerably less dramatic than the one he'd give the kids, for certain. "Welcome to Whispering Rock Psychic Night Classes (and Training Camp)! The recent rush of trained, semi-trained, injured, and fully un-trained psychics have given us some strong reasons to expand Psychonauts training facilities and services, and we're happy to have you here with us to take part! I'm Flamel Parsons, special agent of the Psychonauts and coordinator for the Night Class -- though you'll hardly be working with just me! Everyone get your seats and I'll start off with our residence policy, then we'll get to work on scheduling you all with your necessary services and classes." His gestures are wide and eager as he speaks, a projector showing fancy overhead maps of the camp.
Meika Kirenai	('Hey hey, host!') ('I'm Petra, your ride-along psychic construct best friend,) Meika's pencil lead snaps into a small graphite scribble, from the sudden jolt she makes. Immediate panic that she's been made, mixed with utter confusion at recognizing that voice and name, even if her mannerisms are shockingly different. It's coincidental, but the shock that crosses over Meika is remarkably similar to sitting through a tapped-on microphone's feedback hell: bracing, sudden, and disorientating. ("Petra? Is that you? What's going-") Meika is mumbling her thoughts outloud, in an attempt to think them back really hard at what does, properly, seem to be some sort of psychic messaging- she's looked around first, to see if the sourceless message did in fact have a source, from anyone hiding around- ('Haha, just kidding. Anyways, what's your name?') ("You know me? I- I'm Meika, we're- we're friends? Is- is this a weird joke?)
Kale Hearthward	> "So you're finally ready to become... a janitor." "... I'm already cleaning up enough of other peoples' messes, but thank you," says Kale, and moves on. > "How many faces do you have?" "... Just the one?" says Kale, without full confidence in his answer. He's also not entirely correct, either. > "Shove off and leave him alone," "Well-" Kale starts to say, and then realizes who it is. He's not ready to have that conversation right now. > "... Um. Mister- Mister fursuiter? Could you move your bag, a little..? Or just toss it somewhere else? It's- you're blocking the view, like that." ... Oh. She's - yeah, there's only a few people here. He's not going to be able to avoid her. Deep breath. "Oh, sure, let me put it down," he says, and does so, and turns to face her. "Though I'm not a fursuiter, this is actually what I look like." "Hi there. Name's Kale Hearthward." He extends a hand towards her to shake. "If you're out in the multiverse for the first time, you're probably going to start seeing a lot of people that don't look like you're used to seeing." > Psychonautra Kale blinks. He isn't sure what to make of this. "Um, you have... a voice coming out of your head," he says. Is that new? Did Meika always have that? He shouldn't have been away for so long.
Angela	Parker says, "I do a lot of cleaning too, sometimes I have to clean the vents of ambient enkephalin moisture. But...wow! I have five faces too. Don't worry! All my faces are safely on my face." The previous page Parker had pasted to her forehead slips off her face and she quickly catches it and sets it back on the pile, leaving her with just the :D face remaining. Externalized Telepathy "Ahh!!" Parker is startled. "Petra is in..." She looks at Meika for a moment. Then another moment. "...The person I've never seen before's face and talking! Petra how'd you get in there?? Did you use a door??" She then looks to FLamel and drops her now empty snack bag on the floor next to her and hugs her knees rocking back and forth. "Okay!" She tells Flamel energetically and continues to have successfully failed to stab anyone (LobCorp confiscated her knives too). Angela crosses her arms on her screen and glances over to Meika. "...Psychonautra. It seems we meet again ... Are you able to hear us?"
Petra Soroka	"Oh! Meika, huh? It's not like you've got a glowing neon billboard in here flashing with your name on it! I've been inside a head like that, and you wouldn't believe the kind of work it takes to get someone to look outside of themselves when you've only got the hands to poke around inside, hah! I'm not joking, though. The only people with a self-image or self-label broadcasted right in the surface thoughts are people who are super self-obsessed, like how Petra's is! The host Petra, I mean, obviously." Psychonautra is way less restrained in chattering than Petra is, and where Petra was consistently attentive to Meika's particular worries and hesitances, Psychonautra babbles her way right past them. She hops up from the beach, bouncing on a telekinetic bubble to sit herself down on top of a massive chunk of ice embedded in the sand, and the shivering 'brrr' is picked up and broadcasted outside too. "That's totally not your theme, though. I mean, if I had to guess, based on all this ice, it's more like self-denial? So I'd need to dig pretty far in here to get a name if not for the psitanium around camp having mental images popping up inside your head!" "Aaaaanyways, I've got some sort of positive social association with the name in here, but that's all Petra stuff-- host Petra, I mean, obviously-- that's buried in my semi-coherent primal memories. Best not to open that can of worms, again! So it's nice to meet you for what neither is nor feels like the first time but due to the complications of my existence is effectively the first time regardless!" "Flamel!" Psychonautra's tone is bright even at the worst of times, but there's a note of cheery familiarity there that Petra herself wouldn't have at all towards the Psychonaut. "You're hanging around camp, huh? If you're looking for semi-trained psychics, have I got the girl for you, hahaha!" "Oh really, none of the kids? Well, I'll do my best to inspire a unique personal psychic journey, if the slot's open. Think I could get a merit badge for it? Extracurricular plot-generation, and all that." Kale's next, as Psychonautra spends a few seconds hemming and hawing over the vague sense of familiarity she has with him before realizing. "Oh, hold on! Kale Hearthward, right? I saw you in the Surburban No-Woman's-Land! You better know me, since I can count on two hands the number of people who do!" Psychonautra tilts her head to get a better idea of where Kale's psychic energy is being projected from, relative to the mindscape she's in. She circles around a frost covered tree, lining up the angle precisely, and then slaps her Psycho-Portal onto it, with the door opening up and shining out light. Microphone in one hand and the other gripping her goggles, Psychonautra takes a few steps back to get a running start, and then launches herself into Kale's mindscape. Tumbling onto the swaying deck of a ship-- no, the wood beneath her feet, face, hands, and body as she rolls is rocking back and forth on the waves, but what she's on specifically is an elevated stage, with a podium on either end at which two figures are embroiled in some sort of color-themed debate. Staggering back up to her feet, she ducks out of the way of a tomato thrown from the crowd at one of the debators, then lifts the microphone up to her lips again. Her voice comes from Kale's head, now. "Hey, got any idea where your mind's eye is located? Think it's up, or down, probably? You don't have much of an undersea fixation going, do you? Or the dark, or cramped spaces? Is your imagination good?"
Petra Soroka	"Petra how'd you get in there?? Did you use a door??" Picking her way through the crowd of arguing audience members inside Kale's head, stumbling when a particularly tall wave lifts up the ship, Psychonautra takes on a tutorializing tone when responding to Parker. "It's called a Psycho-Portal! It's what lets us Psychonauts astrally project into people's minds. Not that I actually got given one normally, due to the whole, not really being a physically-extant Psychonaut, and all that! I had to build one out of figments I collected in Phony's mind, haha." "Anyways, same sitch, you might know Petra-- the host Petra, I mean-- but her mental concept of you never made it into me! Treat me like a new person or I'll start getting all existential, and that's not supposed to happen until at least a few days into camp. Check your schedule!" Psychonautra is pretty clearly able to hear everyone who's present. Their mental emissions, in tandem with the way speech focuses and projects thought, are enhanced by the presence of the massive psitanium deposit beneath the camp, whose existence hasn't been introduced yet. Angela isn't physically present, though, and the speakers of her tablet aren't charged with psychic energy. She might need a translator, out of the people around.
Meika Kirenai	'Though I'm not a fursuiter, this is actually what I look like.' Meika has, now, unrestricted internet access. Meika is, thanks to that and old radio band chatter, not alien to the concept of furries. She'll never elaborate why. As such- she rolls her eyes, disbelieving him, but counting an argument about it unwinnable. It is a shockingly high-quality suit, though. The face and hands even move the way you'd think they should, and- Uncertain, Meika actively does not shake Kale's hand. "... Meika, I- hi. I've been out into here and there before, and that's-" Kale's name suddenly rings a bell, loosely familiar to one that got called up on-stage at the Trideag Association's naming ceremony, and that- That can't be right. At best, he's here as another undercover info-gatherer, and at worst, it's just like Lilian said- the treatments she's on are prone to stirring up misconfabulations, and other weird falsely-familiar feelings. Obviously it's the side-affects. That's more sensible, right..? "Good to meet you, or whatever." Meika doesn't look Kale in the eyes even once. ('The host Petra, I mean, obviously.') "... Are you not the- what does 'host' Petra mean? You said you're Petra? Do I-" She's not trying to think hard anymore, just normal responding, as soon as it's clear others are aware enough, too. ('I mean, if I had to guess, based on all this ice, it's more like self-denial?') Meika's pencil scribbles, again, dulled now and squeaky-grating. "Ice..? What's that supposed to- I'm- I'm not denying anything," She says, like a hypocrite. "What are you- what are you doing, there, even..?" 'I was wondering! None of the kids got that this year, I guess I need to go tell Sasha later.' 'Um, you have... a voice coming out of your head,' '...The person I've never seen before's face and talking!' Sudden attention makes Meika's posture immediately shift defensive- she regrets so, so much that she opted not to bring her jacket today, with nothing to feel like she's hiding within around. Her notebook instinctively comes up like a makeshift shield. "What're- I'm not doing this, don't look at me like I'm-" Unfortunately, 'Sasha' is a name she's been briefed on! That's someone to learn more about. She lessens her protest, in the chance it'll sabotage some sort of info-gathering-worthy proximity later. "... She was joking, anyways, right?" 'The recent rush of trained, semi-trained, injured, and fully un-trained psychics have given us...' Silent reassurance in the suggestion Salvador gave Meika, to, if pressured, asked, or otherwise prodded, explain that she's here to help recover burnt-out psychic powers, given she obviously doesn't have them right now, is a workable lie. She's just about the only one present who wouldn't know it's not quite a lie.
Petra Soroka	"... Are you not the- what does 'host' Petra mean? You said you're Petra?" "Oh, I mean the original fully-realized-for-the-definition-of-that-which-includes-Petra Petra. The one whose mindscape I was an inhabitant of and psychically generated to assist a Psychonaut-led mission into, whose experiences and interpersonal conceptualizations my identity and worldview is drawn from! Don't worry about the details, it was so not a good representation of business-as-usual." "What are you- what are you doing, there, even..?" "Oh, hanging out, I guess. It'd be a real bad look for me to break regulation while trying to regain, or gain in the first place, my Psychonauts registration, so I built my Psycho-Portal to YMP code. Speaking of which, you're eighteen now, huh? For some reason that fact registers as significant to me! Do you know why, or is that a private-thought sort of thing?"
Kale Hearthward	"Sorry my what now?" says Kale. --- Inside Kale's mindscape: "Obviously, we should be taking a proactive approach with Meika this time. Try to be her friend, her confidant. If elected, the Tan party will make sure we don't just stand on the sidelines this time." So declares one tan Kale debater, on the left "Being proactive is what got us in trouble last time, remember? The situation here is still in flux, and if we put our beak in where it doesn't belong. If elected, the Commander party will work carefully to make sure we don't do more harm than good." So says the brown Kale debater on the right. "Oh, mind's eye? The imagination center? You want the... scriptwriting room, yeah." says one of the audience members who doesn't seem to be on either side. (Actually it seems like a 3:4:3 split in attendance in favor of the orange Kales, though none of those are up on the stage, nor do they seem particularly invested in the debate.) "It's over... there, somewhere." He points over at one of the side rooms of the auditorium, and then yawns and doesn't offer further help. Petra has to try a couple doors before she finds it. There's a light layer of dust over most of the equipment, as though this room doesn't get much use anymore. --- Inside the real(?) world: "... No idea," adds Kale. "Sorry?"
Flamel Parsons	"You're hanging around camp, huh?" "Volunteered as a counselor this summer, in fact!" Flamel calls out, eagerly. "And you know, I actually already know about Miss Kirenai! I've been monitoring and studying her and her family pretty extensively, as part of a large-scale hidden agenda pursued by my secret government organization." He's so happy to explain this out loud, in front of the group. "Feel free to lend a hand -- counseling or conspiracy, I'll take whatever I can get!" "Now, first off, we're nearly done with an artificial warpgate near the GPC facilities up there to the northeast -- as well as cabins for those of you who decide to live here during training with the rest of the Night Classes. See me after this and we'll get you a pass or a bunk! Next session, we'll be putting all of you through Basic Braining, just to fill in the gaps. That means getting acquainted with the very basics of astral navigation and interaction! From there, we'll be running classes suited to specific needs that specific students and campers have -- based on the information I have here, that means..." He flips some paper in a notebook he pulls from his pockets. "We'll be having psychic shop class with Morceau Oleander for psycho-mechanical externalizations." A nod to Angela-yet-not-Parker. "Essential Censor control with Sasha Nein, for telepathy development." A quick nod to Kale. "Aaaaand... astral therapy and psycho-regrowth with Milla Vodello, to deal with ongoing injury recovery." He beams happily at Meika. "And, of course, basic ground rules." Another flip of the paper. More slides on the projector help illustrate each point. "No use of invasive psychic technology on young campers, and no attempted jailbreaking to allow that. That's not just our rule, that's international! Recovered psitanium arrowheads should be kept in your bag, your locker at the cabins, or used at the camp shop, don't take them home. No smoking, no littering, and don't leave food or Dream Fluffs out unattended outside the main lodge, makes the telekinetic bear problem worse. Canoes can only be used if you have an oarsman's badge, and no use of the bathysphere after ten PM." The fucking what. "No running in the cabins, don't leave carvings or vandalism, keep it lights-out at 11 so the kids get a healthy sleep schedule." He snaps the notebook closed and looks up brightly to the others. "Any questions?"
Kale Hearthward	"No, really, I'm real," protests Kale, despite Meika not actually putting voice to her thoughts. He gives up on the handshake either way, though. ... Well, that was frustrating He turns back around to pay attention to Flamel. Artificial warp gate. Good. Optional cabins. Okay. Secret government organization. Yawn. Large scale hidden agenda. Whatever. Essential Censor Control. Sure? No food left out- wait. Wait wait. What was that one thing he said? Kale raises his hand. "Do we have to get an oarsman's badge to use the canoes?" Kale doesn't actually have any interest in the canoes, but he doesn't think- no. No, it wasn't that one. Try again. "Sorry, I mean - telekinetic bears?" --- If Psychonautra is still in Kale's mind at this point, she can overhear the Tan campaign loudly winning the debate, which has moved on to another topic. --- "... Is there a rule against fighting the telekinetic bears?"
Angela	Angela says, "Psitanium having mental images...?" Then she frowns, noticing eventually that Psychonautra has NO INTENTION of communicating with her--perhaps even ignoring her! SHe thinks to Aidan and remembers that he outright thanked her for dumping an Abnormality into his house, but this person was at least at one point related to Petra. She shouldn't, she couldn't! But she will not be ignored, she thinks, never again. She'll give her another chance to talk to her, maybe a third one and if she ignores her again she'll... ... ... Wait, she thinks, this isn't the first time this has happened. People responding to things ''she'' couldn't hear. Either way the moment's passed though so Parker says first, "Okay!" Parker says and then immediately gets aggressive, "Who are you, Stranger?! I'm Parker!!" She puts on the angry face. "Why are you speaking in my head, stranger??? That's private property!" She can't actually stop her from going inside though. "Parker, people are going to be going in your head if we are trying to repair the damage." She looks over to Flamel and explains. "I was hoping that she could be put in a 'place where her mind could naturally heal'. You spoke about the matter a lot like that, so I sent her here." Then her eyes slant to Parker. "Ask Psychonautra how she's been for me, Petra. Let her know I am here." "Miss Angela wants to know how ya doin'!" Parker adds before... "Psychic...shop class?" She considers a moment. "Injury recovery. I suppose you best do your best at ''that'' particular class." ''Any questions?'' Parker puts on the :\| face. "Do you have sleep piles too?" Parker asks.
Meika Kirenai	('Don't worry about the details, it was so not a good representation of business-as-usual.') "Oh. Okay." ('Do you know why, or is that a private-thought sort of thing?') "... I- well, I... moved out, around then? That's- that's been a lot. I don't know. My thoughts are- I'd- I'd rather they be private? But that's sort of... probably it?" Meika huffs- not really confused, but still on the back foot from this whole situation. "It's been- been good. Better." 'And you know, I actually already know about Miss Kirenai!' Meika flinches, fearful, her mind filling in half a dozen blanks as to what he's about to say next- 'I've been monitoring and studying her and her family pretty extensively, as part of a large-scale hidden agenda pursued by my secret government organization.' What. "... What's- what about my family..? Have you been talking to my parents? I- I'm an adult, they're not- I didn't put down any contact info for them, my emergency contact is-" She freezes up, the mortifying ordeal of worrying that, in front of everyone, something private-seeming is being chatted about, for whatever Flamel could mean, finally catches up to her enough to make her shut up and wilt down. It's not as easy to attribute this to side effects, for how paranoid and weird-feeling it is- she just bites at the inside of her lip, and brainlessly scribbles onto the page she's meant to be note-taking with. '-As well as cabins for those of you who decide to live here during training with the rest of the Night Classes.' Teeth gritted around skin, she's already committed, to her boss, that she'll be overnighting some of the time, here- the reality of how she'll manage to handle the undiluted quantities of this space is finally setting in. 'Aaaaand... astral therapy and psycho-regrowth with Milla Vodello, to deal with ongoing injury recovery.' Phew. The sent-in paperwork as for her admittance-reasoning isn't seemingly facing any suspicion. That's a relief, still. Flamel's smile gets a hesitant one in return- Meika is pretty sure it's okay to seem awkward and embarrassed at a presenter explaining to everyone there's something injured about her. 'No smoking, no littering, and don't leave food or Dream Fluffs out unattended outside the main lodge, makes the telekinetic bear problem worse.' "... What happens if you break the rules..?" She's asking because she's stressed enough to already go find somewhere to sulk and sate a nicotine addiction, but also because as far as she knows she is still here on dubious, sketchy spy-mission illegality, and not sure how much trouble she'll be in if found out. She regrets asking a moment too late, though- knowing the consequence won't help make avoiding it more pleasant, and especially won't help keeping any of it out of mind. Goddammit.
Petra Soroka	Sliding seamlessly into the audience, Psychonautra bumps shoulder to shoulder with the people watching the debate in Kale's mindscape. Prodding out a few lines of dialogue from each in order to cast a net and get an idea of the general opinion, Psychonautra turns her eyes up to the stage, humming thoughtfully. "Opinion's still in flux, huh? Psychonauts guidelines says not to influence a state of mental uncertainty unless the internal consensus reaches 75%, so I've got to stay hands-off with this one. Still," she taps an audience member on the shoulder, gesturing up at the stage. "This Meika person seems pretty important to everyone, isn't she? What's the story with her?" "Oh, mind's eye? The imagination center? You want the... scriptwriting room, yeah." "Hey, thanks, man." Psychonautra gives a thick hazmat-gloved fistbump to the mental inhabitant that helped her, then double jumps up to the railings sticking out of the ship's masts, hopping across the narrow surfaces with implausibly perfect balance and wall kicking to keep up momentum until she's crossed the auditorium. Her local conversations aren't picked up by the microphone, but as she starts coughing from the dust and cobwebbing around the lesser-used parts of Kale's mind, Kale's head emits a coughing noise that occasionally peaks the psychic microphone. "You've got a pretty bad disuse problem in your brain, Kale! Have you been in a low-energy depressive state about creativity lately, stuck in a rut, or is this a trauma-avoidance kind of buildup? You really ought to clean up in here with some mental exercises or something." "Anyways, could you try imagining me as hard as you can? Just based on what you think I'm like. I kind of can't stand being a faceless telepathic voice to the outside world! I've got a whole complex about facelessness, you know; it's a whole mess of identity and image-conveyance issues." Once Kale does, the overhead projector inside the screenwriting room whirs to life, jumping around and stuttering on the table as it heats up. The harsh light shines down on a collection of miscellaneous items that represent Kale's preconceptions and biases about Psychonautra's image-- the collar, for example, if he's thinking of her like Petra, or an army suit if he's mainly remembering her association with the mental image of the Kana. The distorted image is projected onto the wall, and Psychonautra sweeps all the preconceptions away with her arm, sticking her face right under the projector instead. Her appearance suddenly pops into Kale's head, clearly distinct as any mental image can be. She looks like Petra, of course, but with big goggles pulled up onto her forehead and a lack of the traditional accessories Petra tends to decorate herself with like a Christmas tree. She also doesn't have the bomber jacket, forgoing it in favor of a light hazmat-themed suit that's flowy enough for her to jump around freely in, but still with heavy gloves and boots for handling dangerous mental phenomenae. "Miss Angela wants to know how ya doin'!" Oh, Angela's here! Hi, Angela! I can't sense-- tablet, right, of course. Oh, I'm doing great, you know, it's always a great day when you're finally done talking with no one but squirrels, psychic bears, and fish for months and months. Hey, I even had conversation with a few rocks! Ones less chatty than Flamel is, hahaha."
Petra Soroka	"Feel free to lend a hand -- counseling or conspiracy, I'll take whatever I can get!" "Oooh, investigating her family, huh? Well, that mind's got to be full of repression-type psychohazards, so I bet there's a lot of good family drama in there. No teenaged girl's mindscape ends up as desolate as that without some pretty brutal societal identity annihilation! Well, besides Petra's, but that's a whole different case." "Counseling might be fun, though! I mean, I am either the most or least senior member of the Night Class here, depending on how you think of it!"
Flamel Parsons	"Right, the telekinetic bears." Flamel nods to Kale, blandly. When Kale asks to fight about it, he laughs briefly. "Well, the rule against fighting a telekinetic bear is that if you do it, you'll receive a punishment: A telekinetic bear will fight you! They were here first, so I'd personally respect them, but we can't exactly deter you more than the bears can. Ranger Cruller keeps an eye on them, he'll tell you where to stay away." "Sleep piles? Oh, no, we have bunks." Flamel shakes his head at Parker. "Strictly speaking, there's not enough of us for a pile to begin with, and the kids are too busy growing up to be able to do that yet." What a friendly way to say it. "... What's- what about my family..? Have you been talking to my parents?" "Not even a little bit! We've been mostly conducting various kinds of semi-covert surveillance, investigations, attempts to extract information about you held by secret societies, that kind of thing. Just standard stuff." Flamel nods a few times, explaining everything as frankly and unbelievably as he can. Is this a joke? No. But it could be taken as one. "... What happens if you break the rules..?" "Oh! That's simple. We'll be open and honest about our stress and disappointment, expressing our harmed feelings and material difficulties in positive and constructive ways while you work together with us to find effective solutions and ways of growing past the problem, until you don't break the rules anymore." His friendly smile takes over the lower half of his face again. "All of the kids absolutely hate when we do that." True terror. "Well, that mind's got to be full of repression-type psychohazards." "Wuh-oh. That's going to be one heck of an astral-therapy case for her to regrow the psychic abilities, gonna be a while before she can even bend a spoon. Come back me up when we head to Milla's, would you, please?" Flamel speaks to Psychonautra with a familiarity-less friendly familiarity.
Kale Hearthward	> "You've got a pretty bad disuse problem in your brain, Kale!" "Sorry, what?" Kale tries to look inside his own brain. It doesn't work that way. He gets a headache. Meanwhile, Kale's image of Psychonautra is updated! The equipment still works perfectly well, it seems. "No, really, what?" Kale's survival kit includes a pocket mirror! He tries to examine his own head using it, which also gets him nowhere. He gives up after a minute. "Well, uh, no, none of that, not that I can recall." Yes, actually, possibly to all three categories Psychonautra mentioned, possibly multiple instances of each as well. "Also, Persephone says hi?" She didn't, actually, but it's the sort of thing she'd say so Kale's saying it for her. > "Just standard stuff." "Oh, that's good," comments Kale, nodding as he takes that at face value. ... He's still going to try to fight a telekinetic bear, even if a lot of redacted might happen as a result.
Angela	Oh, Angela thinks, cancelling all her revenge plans and dreading having to use Parker as a translator device. It's frankly a miracle she hasn't asked Psychonautra about her faces yet or generally mistranslated in a terrible way. Angela's gaze slants towards Meika for a long moment instead. "I know openly talking about the mind like this is normal for the camp, but please remember some of us are new to the idea." "Um, Angela says--" "No, do not translate that one, thank you, I shudder to think how you might." Angela interrupts.
Meika Kirenai	'Ranger Cruller keeps an eye on them, he'll tell you where to stay away.' "... What type of bears live around here? Are- are they grizzlies? Or- or black bears, or... another type?" A spark of interest! They for sure aren't her favorite type, polar, but bears in general are neat, cute, and something she's had reason to think positively about a lot, lately. "... Is it safe to watch them from a distance, if- if you do happen across any..?" 'We've been mostly conducting various kinds of semi-covert surveillance, investigations, attempts to extract information about you held by secret societies, that kind of thing.' It's painfully clear Meika believes him, up to the finishing tidbit about secret societies. That's nonsensical to the point it feels like a key-in to deadpan teasing, so after a moment, while she doesn't relax, really- her shoulders unstiffen, and she lets out a half-forced laugh. "... Right. Secret societies. Got it." No she really doesn't. 'All of the kids absolutely hate when we do that.' A worse fate than the evil psychic firing squads Meika's imagination conjures up- well, no- a much better one. It doesn't really feel like the momentum to break rules is less-disuaded by a less-harmful idea of consequence, but it's comforting to fill in that blank in the overall plan. She's not sure Salvador will believe her when she reports back, though. ('Well, that mind's got to be full of repression-type psychohazards.') 'Wuh-oh. That's going to be one heck of an astral-therapy case...' "... I'm right here," Meika grumbles. "I'm- I'm not a basket-case. I just- can't do much. And- don't- family drama? What's- I'm not some sort of TV show? If it's entertaining, or whatever, that's- I'm my me, whatever's there's, just- just leave me-" Her head feels like it's spinning. Prickliness is an awful way to start out good relations with anyone, let alone the entire cast of people she's meant to spend summer camp night-classes with. For the sake of the mission- "... Whatever. It's fine. That's just- it's embarrassing to be talked about like that. I don't like it." She can't really quite glance between Psychonautra and Flamel, and so mostly just glances at Flamel, and for all she's trying to relent, her glare is still uncomfortably scowl-like, awful-red and sour. 'I know openly talking about the mind like this is normal for the camp, but please remember some of us are new to the idea.' "... Yeah. Thanks, Miss."
Petra Soroka	"... What happens if you break the rules..?" After Flamel's explanation, Psychonautra chimes in with one of her own. This time, though, it's a Petra-perspective, rather than a Psychonauts-perspective. It's still tinged with Psychonautra's jarringly blunt way of cheerfully explaning things, though, and the gesticulating can practically be felt over the psychic airwaves. "It's summer camp! Never been to a summer camp before? Well, neither have I, technically, even though I have confabulated memories of going to this summer camp specifically! Anyways, part of traditional camp activities is breaking the rules, no matter what the counselors tell you. It's an enrichment activity! Especially for the kids, but you know, no one can be brought to a secluded natural location outside of their home with the express intent of learning without breaking some rules, since breaking those rules is part of figuring out your relationship to them." "And besides, you're this summer's anomaly attendee. Sooner or later, your personal goals are going to lead to you having to break the rules, or you're not going to get anything done! Try not to think too hard about the consequences. A nice dose of heedless recklessness would do your mental health some good, I think!" "Well, uh, no, none of that, not that I can recall." "Uh huh," Psychonautra hums doubtfully, tapping a button on the rattling mind's eye mechanism to get it to settle down. Her boots kick up little clouds of dust as she strides around the screenwriting room, peeking at all the half-finished scripts and posters on the walls. Taking a shot near blindly, Psychonautra launches an intensely probing question like a psychic attack, casually delivered as if it wasn't devastating. "So which came first, then? Spending so much time wrapped up in your Elite work that the theatre drifted away like a forgotten dream, or did you get alienated from it by failure and disapproval before that and threw yourself into missions to fill the void?" "Come back me up when we head to Milla's, would you, please?" "Hey, gladly! I don't know if I'll even have a choice, what with how I can't leave camp, but I'll pretend I do and agree voluntarily! Speaking of bunking, though, got any ideas for me? Any spare brain room sitting around I could set up a room in? I'd say I'm fine rooming with Agent Sasha or Agent Milla, but I'm getting increasingly weirded out by feeling familiarity towards them even though I know I just heard their names from you now and back-justified the relationship I expect I should have with them in my head! They don't actually know me at all, so it's super weird."
Meika Kirenai	('A nice dose of heedless recklessness would do your mental health some good, I think!') Ambient stress, tonal whiplash, and general highstrung wariness melt together into Meika taking this almost at the complete face-value it's meant as and autopilot mumble-responding, "... After this I'm going to go smoke and litter and wander off the trails and see if I can get a bear to eat from my palm. Wouldn't that be really cute..?" Unfortunately she is probably not joking, at least about wanting to do those. Fortunately, she probably will not succeed in the last bit.
Petra Soroka	Offhandedly, as if this is a fine thing to say without any context whatsoever, Psychonautra pipes up helpfully to Meika. "If you just want to feed one, there's a really chill bear down by the river in the forest. Just say you're with 'Blondie of the Flood' and he'll be cool with you."
Angela	Angela is perfect at pretending she doesn't know Meika. "As they mentioned, my name is Angela. I am here to try and provide some supervision for Miss Parker." She wasn't naturally perfect she's just got the most amount of experience at it. Any of her thought-feelings on the subjet are out of reahc! And her poker face is as cripplingly immaculate as ever and the fist she's clenching is under her desk so nobody can see it, especially not Meika. "I already started littering!" Parker tells Meika proudly. "Good job, Parker." Angela says staring into the distance.
Flamel Parsons	"What type of bears live around here? ...Is it safe to watch them from a distance?" "Oh, absolutely. No infohazardous wildlife around here." Flamel nods as he clambers down from the stage. "We've got kids around here, after all. And, brown bears mostly, I think. We can all go wildlife-watching sometime! I'll lend you the surveillance gear. The forest around here is only off-limits to the kids, we can use the old observation towers." "It's embarrassing to be talked about like that. I don't like it." "Mmm... sure! Instead, though, you'll have to hear me talk to you about you like that." Flamel says, making another easygoing, friendly, positive open-palm wide gesture before he claps the hands together. "Most people are are gonna talk about each other that way, though, so you'll be the odd one out." "Anyways, part of traditional camp activities is breaking the rules." "See, she's got the spirit. We define a boundary zone, and we try to make sure all the variance within and outside it all winds up in a healthy zone. Sort of like how secret societies will allow controlled opposition." Flamel points at Psychonautra's broadcast-point. "Any spare brain room sitting around I could set up a room in?" "As for good spots for rooming, I'm gonna get you set up with a soft-wired link to the PA system and get the other counselors to open up. Should give you everything you need, especially to fill in the confabulatory gaps." Flamel explains. "Should let you get to the classes and talk a litle more easily." That won't be long. A quick visit to Flamel's mind should let Psychonautra pick up a psychic radio, one she can tune to one PA speaker at a time in the camp, as well as the mental image of the artificial warpgate being built up in the GPC area to help her get around the counselors' brains through the collective unconscious. "As for room and board, no shortage of that in the counselors' skulls! I'd pick one that isn't Oleander's though. Tough to sleep, lots of gunfire." He taps the side of his head. "Feel free to take the first night in the Parsons Institute if you want, though! Should feel right at home, from what I get from your rapid-confabulatory psycho-structure."
Kale Hearthward	> "So which came first, then? Spending so much time wrapped up in your Elite work that the theatre drifted away like a forgotten dream, or did you get alienated from it by failure and disapproval before that and threw yourself into missions to fill the void?" Oh, Psychnonautra has company in Kale's head now, popping out of tiny (/) portals around the scriptwriting room. They look like they have a message to relay. "NO" Well, that was a very short message. They also seem to really want to show her their rubber stamps, up close and personal. --- "Theater stuff? It's something I used to be into. That's all. Not sure why you're bringing it up."
Meika Kirenai	'We can all go wildlife-watching sometime! I'll lend you the surveillance gear.' "Oh, really? That's- that sounds really cool. But what sort of- do you mean, binoculars, or something..? That kind of 'surveilance gear'?" A pause, and, hesitating, she stands up to bring her map brochure and pencil over closer- "... Where are those towers, on the map? So I can mark them, and- and find them easier?" Obviously she's going to go by herself, sometime, unguided. She's all but asking permission for that. ('If you just want to feed one, there's a really chill bear down by the river in the forest.') "... Blondie of the flood..?" Meika snickers. That's some of the held-tension discomfort with Psychonautra quickly dispatched. It's easier when she does still sound close enough to the same as one of her few actual friends. "That's- that's really sick, that there is. And that you know that- How do you know that..? And- uh, do you think he'd like protein bars..?" 'Most people are are gonna talk about each other that way, though, so you'll be the odd one out.' "... Whatever. Never mind, just- forget I said anything if it's that weird. I'll- I'll deal." The idea of being talked about doesn't rest easy- it's rarely something she's known people to be positive about, and any sort of knowledge of chatter over things like difficult cases feels uncomfortably familiar to guidance counselor-esque concern, if not for the bluntness that doesn't come hissed through stressed teeth and slow-shaken heads. But being the odd one out has its own issues, and, again- she's regretting leaving her favorite jacket at home. The paper she's half-scribbling, half-scribing onto, is starting to wear out. 'Sort of like how secret societies will allow controlled opposition.' "... Secret societies do that?" A pause, and- "Is this a secret society? Does it count as one? It- it does, right..?"
Meika Kirenai	Overhearing chatter about PA systems- "... Hey, um, Petra? Is there a way to like- find you, sometime else, if you don't just wander by into... people's heads, nearby..? Or, speakers nearby? That sounds a little one-way, and all, or..."
Petra Soroka	"Hey! Come on, man!" Kale gets no context for why Psychonautra is telepathically complaining to him now, but it's possible to read exasperation in her mental voice. The kind you hear someone use when they passively insult you first, and then hold up their hands and go 'woah woah woah, no need to get aggressive' when you retort in kind. Rather than blasting psionic offenses directly out of her head like most Psychonauts do, Psychonautra backs up away from the Censor before conjuring up the mental model of pure, codified aggression in her hand: a revolver, almost but not quite identical to the one Petra originally used. When she squeezes the trigger, though, it's still bright blasts of psychic energy that lance out to explode the threat, clearing the way for Psychonautra to scamper back out to the auditorium proper. "I'd pick one that isn't Oleander's though. Tough to sleep, lots of gunfire." "Oh, I'll hop into yours for now, Flamel-- or maybe Meika's, if she's sticking around tonight-- but 'lots of gunfire' sounds just about perfect right now, haha." With the Censors after her still, even though Psychonautra is hidden within the crowd at the debate, she's still working on getting out of Kale's mind as quickly as possible. While chattering, she's affixing her Psycho-Portal to a mast on the ship, angling it this way or that to contemplate between Meika and Flamel's minds as targets. "I was conceptualized in it, you know! It's a fundamental part of Petra's mind. If there's any psychic death tanks inside Coach's mind, though, maybe I'll try to keep my distance from that particular bit of familarity, though." "That's- that's really sick, that there is. And that you know that- How do you know that..?" "Spent a couple weeks in there! He was having an anxious spiral about some heavy rainfall and food shortages and stuff, had to work out some moderate neurotic imagery with all the fish overpowering him because of the increased prevalance of water and everything. We figured out a treaty and everything. Sweet guy." "... Hey, um, Petra? Is there a way to like- find you, sometime else, if you don't just wander by into... people's heads, nearby..?" "I'll give you my number," Psychonautra projects it jokingly at first, but then reconsiders it. "Actually, if Flamel hooks me up with a psychic radio, then I totally could just do that. I'll be around anyways, though! Only so many minds I'm legally allowed to be in at camp, you know." And then to Kale, just before leaping out of his mind and into Flamel's, Psychonautra circles around to him bringing up Persephone earlier. "Oh, and, tell Phony I'm doing good. If she noticed I'm gone, then she probably hasn't heard much lately, since the squirrels don't have broadband access! Tell her I'm doing good, I'm at Whispering Rock, and I'm grateful for the whole heart-melding rescue operation, and I love her."
Flamel Parsons	"But what sort of- do you mean, binoculars, or something..?" "Yeah! Or long-distance microphones. We could set up some trail-cams to catch the rarer stuff like invisible wildlife, too. All that kind of stuff." Flamel nods a few times, beaming at the idea. "Bet you the campers would love it too. I'll show you where the towers are! Though they're better with binoculars." He makes sure to mark them on Meika's map, understanding that she'll probably go up there and smoke. "... After this I'm going to go smoke and litter and wander off the trails and see if I can get a bear to eat from my palm. Wouldn't that be really cute..?" "I already started littering!" "Honey, I'll start counting the cigarette butts with my broom handle and your noggin if you push it on purpose." Janitor Cruller mumbles sourly. "That stuff doesn't vanish. A man comes along and cleans it up! Don't know a thing about any bears, though, go right ahead." "Is this a secret society?" "It's the one I'm always talking about! I always say, I'm an agent of a vague yet ominous government organization. This is the one! It started off as a way more secret society though. We didn't even have government funding!" Flamel jumps in to explain there, to help Cruller not catch too much heat from an insolent teen. "'Lots of gunfire' sounds just about perfect right now." "Oh, great! I'll get you a line to Oleander and let him know to expect someone on the battlefield -- after that, you can get a bed wherever you like, as long as Meika doesn't mind." Flamel's readied for all that. For now... "I'm gonna go get folks situated at the gate-and-bunks near the GPC -- that's right near where the wilderness line is right now!" He starts on the walk over there, and folks are invited to come right along... And very much make sure to walk past the strange construction with all the barbed wire and weird domes, though Flamel makes sure to point out the gate being built into the base of one of the disused structures. https://i.imgur.com/BN7tiqj.jpeg Then it's up to a friendlier area! One where cabins are in the process of being constructed and refurbished, and where folks can find... https://i.imgur.com/Q6LY0PB.png https://i.imgur.com/f8IuKFv.png Another odd fellow. He looks terribly familiar, raking the leaves over there. "Woah there, you, c'mere you!" The minute they get to the cabins. "Can't do the scavenger hunt without a list! Report back to me when you have enough items for your first rank!" The minute one looks up from the paper he's shoved into their hands, he's gone. Flamel's showing folks to the new cabins, the new gate passes -- and of course, the old, old forest, for some.
Meika Kirenai	('Sweet guy.') "I'm going to meet him," She says, already eager to find a bear that might be friendly enough to really get up close to- that's exciting! She's excited! Wasn't she supposed to be here to spy on psychic training methods and secret agents? She'll get back to that. 'Though they're better with binoculars.' "Oh yeah? Lemme- um, when it's cool to borrow those for a bit, let me know? That- that does sound pretty great. But I bet the view of the whole area is really..." She gets distracted, looking off into the forestland surrounding the reception area. With the towers marked on her map, it's really sure to be no time at all before she's sneaking off to one of them. Probably tonight. Almost definitely tonight. 'Or maybe Meika's, if she's sticking around tonight--') "Huh? I- yeah, I am. Supposed to be, at least..?" It takes a second for the context to catch up to her- her eyebrows furrow, but- "... You were- were just in mine a little bit ago, right..? That was- fine, or whatever. I don't really mind if that's a place that works for spending time in." Not that Psychonautra really needs any permission, or that Meika is really all that comfortable with it! But it is kind of true that nothing bad seemed to happen due to that, beyond semi-awkward chatter, and that's unavoidable at this point anyway. ('Actually, if Flamel hooks me up with a psychic radio, then I totally could just do that.') "Oh, really? I- sure, if that's something I can just... put into my phone? Let me know and I'll- yeah." A pause, not totally sure if the joke-retracting is complete or not, "... I guess you'd know just fine how easy it is or isn't to be around, or stuff, though." > GPC and Cabins: "... Wilderness line? That's- the edge of camp grounds, right..?" Maybe her strategy is to make it obvious she's going to be sneaking around places, as expected of a participant, here- maybe she's just a really bad secret-plotter, or maybe a mix of the two. Weird domes and cabin clusters draw attention, and- 'Woah there, you, c'mere you!' 'Scavenger hunt list' joins the brochure clump in her messenger bag. She'll look over the details of all of that later, and glean what she can- for now, with piqued curiosity, and a so-far, so-good(?), so-confusing-but-not-how-she-thought,-somehow reception, she's off to scrawl down what notes she can before finding a good chance to go on an impromptu hike. Odd of that groundskeeper to dissapear like that, though- she scowls, staring out at the surrounding areas for a long few moments, before putting that to mind for later, and finding out what bunk is hers to settle into.