Kevin Curry
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Psychoprotective 25
🕑 Added 2023-03-27 14:00:04 +0000 UTC[Augustus Aquato, Ringmaster of the Aquato’s Flying Circus]
Okay, maybe being a Psychic isn’t so bad. Once he got out to the wider terrain, Augustus tried out flight. It took him a minute to adjust the math-oriented power to his weight, but it allowed him to move so quickly…
He quickly realized that he was more comfortable merely lightening his body and leaping about, along with a few bursts of flight to change directions in mid-air. After getting used to his new mobility, Augustus made his way to the building that Viktoriya described.
The building was distinctly different to the surroundings. The other buildings were skyscrapers, yes, but they looked… a little more old fashioned. Still made of concrete, but with much less glass and metal. This one was nearly futuristic in its design, sleek. Most relevantly, it didn’t have a single sign declaring that the Psychonauts should be avoided.
As Viktoriya said, it was surrounded by a trench, inside of which was a train going at high speeds. It was sticking out of the ground by about two meters, high enough that he wasn’t entirely sure he could leap completely over its significant width from ground level… definitely without obviously augmenting his strength with psychic power, and even then it was a little bit chancy. With his new experience with flight? It was a trivial obstacle.
The censors on the inside… were much less threatening for some reason. They poured out in great numbers, but… there were tiny ones mixed in with the short ones, there were no heavies… and they moved stiffly and robotically. It was as if it was the same kind he’d find in Dion or Frazie’s minds, unable to present significant resistance.
After easily dispatching the mental defenses, he looked up at the sky. Wait.. was it a different color? The cracks in the sky were gone, too. The ground felt a little different, too. It was like he was in a completely different place, all of those little atmospheric details that one normally ignored suddenly shifted, which made the hairs on the back of Augustus’ neck stand on end.
Spooky. Augustus entered the skyscraper, only to find the place largely bare, with a single spiral staircase leading to the top. Drat. He started trudging up the stairs.
As he climbed, images appeared. Stills of what may or may not be memories showed themselves to him without prompting. A young boy of about seven, probably the Director, getting yelled at by Japanese parents. So the ‘part of Tanya’s mind’ bit was bullshit. The next image showed a slightly older version of the boy getting yelled at, in exactly the same stance at the parents from before, by a copy of themselves in addition to the parents. The third removed the parents in addition to growing the child even more, to age twelve if he had to guess.
The next few slides showed the boy continually getting silver medals… ones exactly like most of the ones that garbed The Argent, alternating with the boy discarding the medals while being yelled at by his doppleganger.
Oddly, there weren’t any of those chalk drawings about, like there was outside. Something told him that this was significant, somehow.
The boy was a man now, going to… college? Something like that. He was carrying an immense amount of books, more than any real quantity of them could be realistic. It must be a metaphor.
Augustus turned away from that image, only to find that the books had manifested into an impenetrable wall. He wasn’t quite sure why he knew it was impenetrable, but a test punch, with the little bit extra oomph from the punching technique that was paired with the flight, like a boxing glove of psychic power, did absolutely nothing to the stack.
Maybe he could go around? He edged out over the staircase’s safety rail, and when he made some progress, the books collapsed on top of him, sending him to the… floor? Why wasn’t he falling several stories?
“Look man, this is going to send you to an early grave.” Came a concerned sounding young man’s voice. Getting up from the pile of books, Augustus looked around. It was a college dorm room, he was pretty sure. It didn’t look a lot like that comedy movie’s dorm room, but it was a single room with two college-age men present, at least.
“It’s called taking my education seriously, Daikoku.” Said one of the men. He was tapping away at some typewriter-like thing, maybe one of those fancy computers he’s heard about? He thought it would be bigger. “Software engineering is a very competitive field, I can’t slack off.”
Wait, what was that smell? “Look, Deguchiya.” Daikoku said. “Let me level with you: That’s the kind of attitude that ends with you getting entombed by a black company, dead before forty. If you want to climb the corporate ladder, you need to network. I know your parents have been hounding you about that.” He pulled out… a bottle of some kind. Was that alcohol? It smelled like it… “Even the engineers have to play the work culture game, Deguchiya. That means drinking and karaoke with the coworkers, and you don’t want to be the guy who’s never drank before. You’re a big guy, too. Once you get used to it you’ll be able to drink anyone under the table. So come on to the party with me. I know you’re usually with the wargamers, but the cosplay group has way more fun. You’ll have girls falling over themselves to get you out of your clothes and into…” He looks Deguchiya up and down. “Either a Spike or Vash the Stampede costume. Depends on how fun of a drunk you are.”
A duplicate of Deguchiya appeared behind him. The duplicate twirled the Director’s signature stamp in his hand. “This is exactly what was warned about. The lure of alcoholism, of peace and happiness unfettered by sensible things such as forward thinking or caution. One drink and you’ll have wasted the whole evening, your memory impaired by that… poison. You must reject it, and work hard.” After a moment, he added: “But be careful with your rejection. Daikoku’s family is rather influential, and while talent and knowledge sells itself, antagonizing Mizuki is still a poor decision.”
The boy, the real person who was hounded by the Director’s contradictory advice, visibly panicked with the decision he had to make. Every time Deguchiya seemed to be about to make a decision, the Director immediately argued for the opposite option. It was pathetic to watch.
Eventually, Daikoku (Mizuki?) poured the alcohol, which was some kind of white liquid that stank too much of alcohol to be merely beer, into a tiny saucer, placing it in front of Deguchiya. “There really isn’t a better time than now, Tenya. Live a little!” Tenya? That was… hrm. Something of a coincidence, isn’t it?
The newly-named Tenya grabbed the saucer and drank it in one go, surprisingly not coughing as the liquid burned down his throat. “All right!” Mizuki said. “You have to give it a few minutes to kick in, but when you do, trust me, you’re going to have a great time.”
The Director bopped Tenya with his stamp. “You idiot! This evening could have been productive! And now you’ve wasted it! You’ll never catch up to Hayano now.”
Mizuki turned around and left the room, and Tenya stood up, ignoring the Director’s haranguing. After taking two steps into the center of the room, he took a deep breath, and grabbed the Director by the face. Before the mental entity could comprehend what was happening, Tenya slammed its head into the wall, causing the entity to dissolve. Tenya hiccuped and walked out of the room after Mizuki. The scent of alcohol thickened, white fumes suddenly obscuring the room and swirling around Augustus.
After it vanished, Augustus found himself back on the staircase, the books cleared. The section in front of him was built differently than the previous section, with less hard angles and monochromatic designs and more curves and soft tones. It wasn’t a huge difference in structure, but it made things look nothing alike.
Tenya’s life story continued as Augustus ascended, the scent of alcohol never leaving. A picture of him leaving his mountain of books behind, a smile on his face. The man getting a job, with several images of him doing some office meeting with someone followed by him drinking with that person afterwards.
Eventually, there was a top to the staircase. How many floors had he walked up? Augustus wasn’t sure. Inside the door at the top, it was a train station, with a second door standing right in front of the train, incongruously.
More censors were created in an attempt to stop him from advancing, but just like before, they were anemic in strength in comparison to the censors outside of this building. After they were dispatched, Augustus noticed a sickly… thing. It was made of metal, four legs with bands of metal somewhat like a ribcage protecting some clipboard-looking thing as it shuffled along. That looked important. It was trivial to fetch the object, as while it had teeth, it didn’t seem to have anything resembling lips, or a jaw that closed. The clipboard had a little dongle attached to it, and lit up with a flickering display.
It was a title card, denoting it as ‘Last words’ With a tap, the title card turned into an image of Tenya at a desk, impassively watching an angry man leave his office. The next slide showed his hand shaking with fear, with the Director manifesting behind him, stamp ready to attack.
The next slide had Tenya grab a bottle from his desk, identical to the one from the memory, and the one after that had him take a quick swig. The Director was launched backwards, a table flipping from underneath him and pinning him to the ground. The second to last slide had another man, concerned. Tenya was clearly dismissive of whatever warning the man was conveying. The last slide was merely the front of a train, exactly like the one next to the door.
Well, whatever was behind that door was probably key to understanding how this came to be. He didn’t know that going deeper into a mind was such a literal trip through memory lane…
On the other side of the door was… another hallway, wide with statues lining it, alternating sides. Well-appointed this time, and he wasn’t sure why, but he got a distinctly ‘happy’ vibe from this room. These were pleasant memories.
The first one was of Tanya, about four years old. The Director was there, encouraging her to keep what she had in her hand secret. Upon close inspection, the object was bread.
The second statue was Tanya, maybe seven or eight, looking in horror at a document, with the Director frantically drawing complex charts and graphs, and a flow chart on a chalkboard. The Director had a savage grin on his face as he worked, clearly excited.
The third was Tanya in her military uniform, flying, with the Director watching her back, pointing out what were probably threats to keep her alive. “...I suppose he isn’t all bad.” Augustus admits to himself.
There were only three more statues. One was of Tanya hitting that soldier that, in the museum, had shot her in the back, with the Director pointing imperiously at him. Another was of Tanya panicking along with the Director when everyone in the background was celebrating, and the final one was of Tanya sick in bed, the Director fussing over her while keeping a fearful eye upwards.
The door at the end of the hallway had a curious design. It was an ornate piece of golden jewelery, set in silver that was shaped into mangled meat, stray broken ribs the only thing allowing Augustus to even tell what the hell it was.
Nevertheless, Augustus opened the morbidly designed door and went inside. The interior was a massive office, with grand paintings denoting what was probably a pair of timelines. The left showed Tanya, younger than the statues in the previous life, oddly enough, closing a cage on themselves, while the Director yelled at her. That timeline progressed with the cage, Tanya still inside, walking itself into a deep dark hole with cobwebs strewn about. It ended with a shining light, and a dark-skinned woman with a psychonauts badge breaking Tanya out of the cage. It ended with the cage broken and the background changed into… some kind of foundry? Something like that.
The second timeline was bordered with golden cracks, a savage rendition of Tanya, broken like porcelain with no discernable glue keeping it together but a golden contraption within the crater in her chest. It heavily resembled the door to this very room, but less gory. The savage Tanya swung her blood-red claws at the Director, who fought savagely for dominance. Then, another man showed up, dignified and serious and wearing a psychonauts badge, who plucked the heart of the demon wearing a little girl’s broken skin. The last picture was of The Argent, chained and cracks filled in perfectly with gold. Come to think of it, weren’t those the same psychonauts agents he saw fighting the Director? Viktoriya did mention that the Psychonauts were healing Tanya… was this a depiction of the process?
The two timelines met in the middle, directly behind the waiting Director at his desk. The mental entity seemed content to let him take in the atmosphere, though. The picture behind him was of Augustus and the Director facing off, although Augustus’ image was… less than accurate. His skin was pallid, and he was wielding three spiked clubs for some reason.
Noticing Augustus’ attention on the painting behind him, the Director chuckled. “This part of the story is not yet told.” He began. “Welcome to my mind.”
“It’s not yours.” Augustus retorted. “It’s Tanya’s.”
“But it is.” The Director said immediately. “It may be within that broken shell’s mind, but it is a realm unto itself.” The director adjusted his glasses, causing a flash of light to reflect off of them. “I will not submit to anyone who denies me existence! Not you, not the Psychonauts, not even God!” Something about the way he said God was strange, a tremor going through the room. Or perhaps… a shudder. Hrm.
Come to think of it, that would explain the different sky, if this place was a separate mind within Tanya’s mind. Like a conjoined twin. Or a brain tumor. “So what are you?” Augustus asked. “Some kind of piece of that Tenya boy’s mind that somehow found its way into a little girl?”
The Director snorted. “You don’t understand a thing.” He said dismissively. “I shouldn’t be surprised, though. You genuinely believe that Hand of Galochio nonsense.”
What? Hold on, maybe he knows… “Why did the curse suddenly work on Tanya?” He asked.
“Because I made it work on her.” The Director continued. “She’s quite the capable hydrokinetic, it’s not like it’s difficult. Same way it works on you.”
Same way it works- “What? Do you know how the curse works?”
The Director sighed. It was a very particular sigh, that of someone resisting the urge to call someone an idiot. “It’s a psychic power, you uneducated fool. It’s not magic.” Augustus would really like to dispute that assessment, but he was a high school dropout. “It’s hypnosis. It turns your family’s own hydrokinesis against you.” He pulled out a sign from his desk, one of the ‘Stay away from the Psychonauts’ ones. He flexed his hand, creating a large stamp. He hit the sign with it, replacing ‘Psychonauts’ with ‘Water’. “Look familiar?”
It did start to make sense. “But how would you break it?”
The Director hummed. “That’s valuable information.” He smiled. “Now that we understand each other, perhaps you would reconsider my offer? I’ll even increase it: Not only will I tell you the dark secret that has been kept from you, but I will also provide you with my best ideas on how to cure your little curse problem.” Augustus stilled. Could he? The Aquato family circus… with their water shows returned to them? “All you need to do… is leave. Turn back, and you will receive everything I know relevant to the subject.”
Augustus took a deep breath as he contemplated the offer. He had no reason not to at least think about it. Could he do it? Does Tanya, and by extension this clown, actually know how psychic curses work? …But to do so, he’d have to leave that scared little girl to be eaten by this cancer of a mental busybody.
…No. How can he face Razputin, his family, if he sacrificed Tanya, even for that. They’d never speak to him again, and they’d be right to. With that one hint, he can probably manage to break the curse eventually. “Well, you certainly made a tempting offer…” Augustus said, acting friendly as he walked towards the man at the desk.
Before Augustus could surprise the entity, the Director launched his desk towards him at speed. Fortunately, he managed to jump over it. “Before I became self-aware, I was literally a manifestation of anxiety and paranoia. You’re not going to surprise me with such a cheap ploy.” The Director scolded him. Ah, so that’s what is going on! Yeah, those pictures make a lot more sense with that context.
Augustus dodged and weaved through the Director’s stamp attacks, striking back with the telekinetic boxing gloves on. But the size and reach advantages the Director had were significant, and the mental entity was skilled in a scrap; Augustus was taking more hits than he was dishing out.
…He was still winning, though. The Director’s blows weren’t weak, per say, but comparing that force to the flinches that Augustus prompted when he landed a blow on his opponent, they were definitely doing less damage than Augustus’ strikes.
“You know,” Augustus began, grunting as he brawled with the entity. “...it seems to me that it’s a matter of you or her.”
“She’d have died twenty times over if not for me.” The Director replied. “If he listened to me, we wouldn’t even be in this mess! They’ve had their chance, they owe me!”
“Yeah whatever, except: ” Augustus said, punctuating his statement by punching the entity in the face, launching it at the painting. “I haven’t known Tanya very long, but I’m not going to sit by and let some remnant of a dead man kill a little girl. That would be letting a murderer loose, after all.”
The Director laughed at that. “Murderer? Is that how you see this? As murder? You cannot comprehend the scale of death orchestrated by her hands.” The Director went low, leaning forward and leaping towards Augustus, stamp outstretched in an attack faster than any other that had been used in this battle.
Not fast enough. “And you’re blameless for that. Right.” Augustus leapt upwards, rebounding off the ceiling and smashing into the entity, feet-first. The floor shattered from the force, followed quickly by the ceiling and walls.
Augustus landed lightly on his feet, a quick backflip getting him some distance from his enemy. They were atop the skyscraper that was the sectioned-off mind, the rest of Tanya’s mind still visible in the distance. In fact… upon further inspection there was a barely visible barrier separating this part of the mind from the rest of it. There was a single crack in that barrier, a line of dull red with a single golden spot breaking up the otherwise uniform red color, matching the ink on the Director’s stamp.
“You fear what you cannot understand.” The Director stated calmly as he rose from the crater Augustus left him in. He seemed put together, which was not good. “You grasp at the flimsiest justification to tell yourself that you’re doing the right thing, ignoring any logic that could possibly make you wrong, or will have undesirable consequences, or collateral damage.” Fear gripped Augustus’ heart at the Director’s words. What does he mean?
…No, he’s just bluffing. Trying to rattle Augustus. It was working, but he needs to stay strong! He charged, but this exchange was much more in the Director’s favor. Every instance of hesitation seemed to increase the Director’s strength and speed, allowing him to strike thrice for every one that Augustus landed.
After a particularly nasty hit, Augustus sprawled on the desolate landscape. The Director took a breather, regarding him cautiously rather than going for the kill. “You can do it, Dad!” Came Razputin’s voice, with a surge of energy.
Augustus kipped up with renewed energy, glancing around to see where his son was. “Don’t worry Dad, we’re still out here.” Frazie’s voice sounded out, with yet another rush of energy.
“I went and got Frazie to come help!” Razputin said helpfully.
Frazie finished the thought. “But I stopped him from diving in stupidly. We’re sending you our mental energy, Dad.” Okay, how did they learn how to do that? Was it Razputin’s comic books?
Augustus ducked a sudden haymaker from the Director, reflexively giving him a quick combo of hits, knocking the man down with the sudden strength his children were loaning him. “I’m not just fighting for me, and for Tanya. I’m fighting for my whole family. How can I face them, as a man, if I let you out into the world?” Augustus shakes his head. “Not while I’m still on my feet.” Augustus leapt onto his hands, gripping the ground and with a twist he swung both legs down on the prone entity like a hammer. The entire floor beneath them shattered under the force of his empowered strike.
The arena, now that the tower was a dozen feet shorter, was… more or less the same, but this room was clearly some kind of church before Augustus broke into it. There were two more streaks of dull color in the brighter sky, which was probably a good thing.
The Director didn’t miss a beat before standing back up, his suit restoring itself before Augustus’ eyes as the man adjusted his tie. “You seek to impress your children with your strength and virtue. Lie to them that you know what you’re doing so that you can indoctrinate them into your self-loathing philosophy.” Augustus winced. Put that way… that did sound bad, didn’t it? “You call me evil, so that you may declare yourself good, and so you can kill me without fear.”
“You’re literally trying to take over the body of a young girl.” Augustus observed. “I don’t need to call you evil. It’s self-evident.”
“THEY’RE NOT!” The Director declared, resuming the battle, stamps in hand. “Young girls don’t volunteer for the military! Young girls don’t write logistics dissertations! Young girls don’t make hardened veterans shit themselves with a damned glare! They always understood that, body aside, they were still a man!”
This conversation was quickly leaving Augustus’ understanding of the situation. So… “And what’s wrong with deciding otherwise?” He asked as he ducked and weaved away from the attacks. “I’ve met my fair share of women who were born men, there’s nothing wrong with it.”
“Because that gives that bastard X a win!” The Director roared, smashing his stamps together into a much larger stamp, a red X glowing an ominous gold as he lunged with it as if it was a spear.
Augustus leapt into the sky, the stamp blasting the altar apart with the impact as it exploded. Immune to the blast, the Director adjusted his suit some more as he tracked Augustus’ movements while the dust settled. He flipped around and gently landed with a flamboyant pose, for an instant forgetting the dire stakes in the joy of flight.
“The brat may have declared victory over that upjumped spirit, but I haven’t forgotten.” The Director said, as if Augustus was supposed to know what he’s talking about. “Everything they accept from that demon’s curse is another step closer to defeat. Forgetting something so simple, so fundamental as their manhood… Submitting to childhood completely, disregarding the threat Being X still holds… I cannot accept this. I will not accept this! If you want something done right…. Just do it yourself!” He manifested more stamps, this time labeled ‘REJECTED’ and ‘REDACTED’. “But first, to get rid of you!”
“Dad? Do you know what he’s talking about?” Frazie asked as Augustus did a handstand on his enemy’s head and flipped over, knocking the Director down.
“Not even a little.” Augustus replied. This guy was crazy, and Tanya was crazier for having him in her head. If the Psychonauts told him that they were going to stick her in a padded room for her own safety, he’d truss her up himself at this point. Maybe she’ll be less crazy if Augustus beats this guy up, maybe she’ll go crazier. He doesn’t care anymore. “I need a drink.” He said to himself, forgetting who was listening to him.
“Hey! There’s a bottle in the altar!” Raz pointed out. “If you’re thirsty, there might be some juice in there!”
Augustus turned to the broken altar. Indeed, there was a bottle of sacramental wine sticking out of the wreckage. Logically, it should be shattered, but logic seems to be carefully rationed inside a mental world. He grabbed it, the cork popping off the instant Augustus gripped the neck, allowing him to take a deep pull of the alcohol without wasted time. It tasted like wine, although he wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting other than that.
The world seemed to… melt a bit to his eyes. It wasn’t the greatest description, but everything seemed… less. More fragile. Idly, he swung his fist at the charging Director, which landed right in the bastard’s face and bent him over backwards, tumbling ass over teakettle to the middle of the room. “Thas right…” Augustus said, slightly slurring his words. “Alcohol is your weakness.” He did learn that on the way here, didn’t he? “Nothing like a little liquid courage to kick the ass of fear, huh?”
The Director was much slower to stand back up from that hit. His glasses were shattered, and he squinted his already slanted eyes even more. “Sure, nothing like trusting the luck of drunks and fools to keep you alive. That’s sure to work.” He snorted. “Oh wait.”
“Ah, shaddup.” Augustus said, throwing the wine bottle up in the sky. When its trajectory went above the recovering embodiment of fear, Augustus seized it with his telekinesis and sent it straight onto the bastard’s head.
Not only did the bottle shatter, so did the ground beneath him, the entire floor of the building crumbling as the Director was given a taste of his old medicine. Another dozen feet vanished beneath their feet, and the cracks in the sky increased in size; now it was so damaged that it seemed a blend between the two skies rather than one overtaking another. The new terrain was mostly ruins, but seemed vaguely… hospital-like. Or prison-like. Maybe both.
“Now, I don’t understand the relationship you have with Tanya.” Augustus began as the Director peeled himself off the ground. “But what I do understand is Fatherhood.” He started walking towards the recovering asshole. “It seems to me that Tanya’s just wanting to start fresh, leave the bad stuff behind. And seeing as how you’re part of that ‘bad stuff’, you have a problem with that.”
“I kept that idiot alive!” The Director insisted. Augustus kicked him in the face, knocking him back down.
“Good job!” Augustus said sarcastically. “That doesn’t mean anything. Do you think I’ve never worried about one of my children deciding that they don’t want to be in the circus and run off?” He spat to the side. “Of course I have! But if that day comes, it comes. I don’t have the right to stop them.” Augustus spread his arms wide. “This is America! I spent the first thirteen years of my life in Grulovia. Did I like it there? Yes. I didn’t know any better. Now? With the benefit of hindsight? I never want to set foot in that place again.” He kicked the man again, flinging him to the edge of the arena. “This is the land of the free! I’ve been fortunate in that all of my children seem to enjoy performing like I do, but if that was to change…” Razputin… He probably will want to join those Psychonauts… Those damned psychics. “I can only support them as much as I can.” Those damned psychics who can probably break the Galochio’s curse, if even Tanya knows enough to identify how it works, even if the Director was very careful to not claim that he knew how to cure it.
…They couldn’t possibly be all that bad if this bastard wants Tanya to stay away from them. Not after his selfish explanation as to why he did that.
The Director managed to find his feet before Augustus was able to approach him again. “You’re just a brute.” He accused. “Platitudes don’t matter in the face of real problems. The kinds of problems I’ve spent sixty years protecting that blockhead from dismissing. Nothing you say will change the fact that you’re here to murder me, a man who only wishes to live free.”
Again with the accusations? He’s like a broken record… who can see what’s bothering Augustus most about this battle. Did he really have the right to intervene here? No, he really didn’t. But that’s not going to stop him. Viktoriya made sure to mention that he was a part of Tanya, and killing him will actually cause problems instead of fixing them…
Psychonauts give people the strength to fight their own demons… “You’re right.” Augustus declared.
“...Really?” The Director asked, caught off guard before becoming defensive. “No, you’re trying to trick me.”
“No, you’re right. I don’t have the right to kill you.” Augustus said sincerely. He rushed forward, grabbed the bastard by his tie, and smashed him into the ground, destroying yet another floor of the tower. The sky shattered, completely exposing the Director’s tower to the cracked skies of Tanya’s mind. “Her, on the other hand…” He said. He can’t believe that worked!
Censors poured out of doors that suddenly opened in the air. He hopes this works… “Hey censors!” He shouted. “This guy looks like he came from a different mind, right? He doesn’t look like he belongs here.”
The Director scoffed from his position on the ground. “Preposterous. I’m in charge here!” He shouted.
“No.” Said one of the censors, in what Augustus now realized was a distorted version of Tanya’s voice. The Director paled as the censors approached his prone form, stamps ready. Faintly, from all around, Tanya’s voice clearly echoed out. “Your acts of industrial sabotage have provided us adequate cause to terminate you, effective immediately. Please stamp the provided document to signal your acceptance of your severance package. If you do not, our legal team will get in touch.”
“Watch out!” Razputin shouted. Ah. Of course. They weren’t ignoring Augustus, why would they? He was way too tired to beat this many… Time to go. He took out the smelling salts and cracked them open, taking a big whiff. Ugh!
Comments
Twi
You know, the Director's thoughts about Tanya's gender/presentation are sort of fascinating. Your gender isn't really a decision, but how you relate to it definitely is a choice, in the same way that coming out as gay or not would be. And what's one of the first things we see associated with the Director? Decision paralysis. Note that the Director calls Tanya 'they', not 'he', even as he berates Tanya for forgetting masculinity. Is this a hint towards non-binary vibes? Maybe, but I more feel like it's that accepting herself as female is a choice - and had Tanya gone the other way, the Director, manifestation of her anxieties, would be right there berating her for 'abandoning the advantages of femininity' or some nonsense like that. Then again, I have an equally valid-sounding theory that it's because the Director is fundamentally backwards facing. As a personification of paranoia, the future is only threats, no opportunities. There's a kind of inherent nostalgia there? Plus if he sees Tenya's death as a result of him being rejected, maybe he just wants to pick up again as Tenya Deguchiya. I dunno, I'm kind of pulling a lot of stuff out here. Also, Viktoriya best, when does Tanya start selling a stuffed Visha toy? (Or make a cute Viktoriya archetype/headmate; probably less destructive than the Director, at any rate.)
Kevin Curry
It's definitely non-zero.
Chris Larson
Hah! Piranha pit! I wonder how many Psychonauts actually finish off bosses this way via exposing that something doesn't belong and letting the natural defenses take it out. Like what happens to virus or cancer infected cells once the body flags them.
