Kevin Curry
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Psychoprotective 4
🕑 Added 2022-09-05 18:55:45 +0000 UTCAnima Academy's been really fighting me, so I'm delaying the next chapter.
However, Psychoprotective's chapter has been finished for a bit, so... here it is, in apology.
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Now, one would think that lying on an amalgamation of three different beds would be uncomfortable, but it wasn’t. If not for the visual cue, Tanya wouldn’t be able to tell the difference from just the feel of the unnaturally comfortable mattress. Memories flashed in her mind, mostly the various events that occurred when Tanya had to suffer from the physical infirmary of infancy. Too much time was wasted that way, in Tanya’s honest opinion. Sure, she tried to rationalize it as a vacation, from her stressful job when she was in the care of nuns and from the Great War in the case of her third life, but that rationale wore thin very quickly. It was so boring…
Suddenly, Tanya noticed some of those figments of imagination that she saw in the other minds spinning out of the ether. Much like in those minds, they appeared as if chalk drawings floating in the air, this time depicting… mostly things relevant to the things Tanya was thinking about. The upper bodies of Miss Mila and faceless nuns featured prominently, but also items related to infant care.
On an impulse, Tanya reached out for one of the figments, not caring which one, and ended up touching a pacifier. Instead of the expected mental energy replenishment, it instead coalesced into an actual pacifier, an exact replica of one that Tanya recalled being given by Miss Mila.
Tanya spat out the memory and watched it fade back into a figment, this time an image of Tanya sucking on the pacifier. “Is this place trying to keep me here?” Tanya wondered out loud as she shifted in place on the bed, smacking her lips as she watched the figment drift in circles. Wait. With a jolt of adrenaline Tanya found the motive to finally get up off of the bed, leaping into the fuzzy part of the room, slapping herself as she shook off the room’s mental trap. “Hrm. Did they mention getting lost in memories when explaining the risks?” Tanya didn’t think they did, but when applying common sense, reviewing memories would logically have a risk of going on a mental wiki walk, at the bare minimum.
“Figments working differently in your own mind is a new facet of the experience as well.” Tanya said out loud. It also made sense, but Tanya really wished they were less vague on the differences between exploring one’s own mind in comparison to others. “So, there has to be some kind of exit…” While mental influences being merely hypnotic rather than simultaneously agonizing and euphoric was novel, Tanya would still rather not repeat the experience.
As it turned out, there were two: Both were doors leading out from the nursery settings, but a thorough examination of the wall in the fuzzy childhood room revealed no such exit. Even tearing aside the amalgamation of psionic tangles that was probably a mental cobweb revealed a blank wall. “Logically, each exit leads to memories from their respective lifetimes.” The lack of such an exit into her first life was… troubling, to say the least, but given how little Tanya recalled of the room, perhaps it’s just a matter of finding a clearer memory? That shouldn’t be too difficult.
But which door to explore first? On one hand, there was a morbid curiosity to seeing how the Great War would translate into a mental world… on the other hand, Tanya would likely need to put the most work into making the third life’s mental space presentable on top of just hiding everything else, so it was the logical choice.
As Tanya approached the door, it grew to a tremendous size, or perhaps Tanya just shrank, stumbling a bit from her clothes shifting entirely in accordance with the terrain rather than the odd split it was before, but telekinesis opened the door despite this obstacle and she walked through with only a slight wobble to her steps. The mental realm will need to be more inconvenient than that to bother Tanya Dosva.
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Tanya was not surprised, after another shift in outfit provoked by just walking, to see a rendition of the Motherlobe as the primary hub for her third life’s memories. The exits were all labeled differently, but the core shape of the area was the same. The place was populated heavily with the same kind of caricatures as Miss Mila’s mind, various people that Tanya had met rendered with emphasis on their most notable features and with small details washed out.
“I hope it’s possible to reshape some of those…” Tanya said to herself once she noticed how some of the people were rendered unflatteringly… or too flatteringly, in some cases.
One of the curvier caricatures, dressed in… is that an imperial mage uniform? Marched over to Tanya and saluted, saying in an achingly familiar voice: “Major! Visha reporting for duty!”
“Visha?” Tanya asked redundantly. “What are you doing here?” Looking the memory up and down, Tanya realized that, once accounting for the caricatured proportions, bear ears and nose, and unusually large and expressive eyes, this indeed was Viktoriya. Come to think of it… The other caricatures all had large and expressive eyes, as if they were all anime characters. That was… probably fine.
“I’m here to serve you, Major!” Visha replied. “My duty roster includes cuddling, fire support, and coffee making!” A figment of Tanya issuing orders immediately manifested as Tanya remembered issuing that exact roster to Visha the bear in a fit of boredom-inspired mania.
Wait… Tanya leapt and snatched at that figment, the embarrassing floral overalls she had last worn at age two immediately becoming replaced with her mage officer’s uniform, every detail blissfully recreated. “Ah, perfect.” Tanya said to herself, stretching her legs. She was beginning to get the hang of this. Still, this is definitely a problem for the plan to make an innocuous mental realm for the Psychonaut’s perusal. Or was it? Providing elaborate backstories for plush toys seems like a childish thing to do… Further research was required. “Now, about that coffee?”
“I’ll aim to make it black as the devil, hot as hell, pure as an angel, and sweet as love.” Visha replied, an amused lilt to her voice as she said the common quote about perfect coffee that said absolutely nothing about how Tanya liked her coffee. Exactly as OpSec required. Visha promptly flew towards the Motherlobe’s mess hall, instead incongruously labeled with the name of that cafe Tanya favored when she was in Berun.
Tanya noticed some extra figments flit about, mostly depicting Visha, but ignored them and followed the amalgamation of memory into the cafe. The entrances into the various areas in the Motherlobe in reality were these strange psychic imprint-detecting doors, ones that Tanya by and large couldn’t use normally due to her shield. As a result, Miss Mila gave Tanya a little doohickey that forced the scanner to instead register Tanya’s face, as apparently that was a capability Agent Mentalis installed but the Psychonauts organization as a whole decided was too bothersome to make standard.
The cafe, on the other hand, had neither that nor the door the Berun cafe normally had, but a modern glass automatic door, as one would find in Japanese konbinis. The interior was no better, with the kitchen replaced by the Berun cafe serving area, the tables being largely accurate, but with half of the floor plan instead being stocked with claustrophobic shelving filled to the brim with all of Tanya’s favorite foods, most of which Tanya needed a moment to actually remember that she liked. Potato pancakes wrapped in plastic sat side by side with the brand of instant noodles Tanya favored in college and bags of coffee beans labeled ‘Visha’s homemade’.
This will require some work to make palatab… non-suspicious. Visha turned around from the coffee maker with a steaming cup, the same kind that they had in the front lines, worn and battered but still working with grit and human ingenuity… although in this case Tanya suspected that Visha didn’t so much prepare it as hum the same tune the real Visha did when preparing coffee only to have the cup magically appear in her hands at the end. Visha brought the coffee to Tanya, picking up the smaller girl and sitting down at one of the tables, which suddenly turned into an oversized armchair as Visha proceeded to sit Tanya in her lap, maximizing skin contact as she fulfilled her primary duty.
After a moment to reboot, figments spilling out into the area, Tanya recognized the armchair as her favorite one from the group home. Well, mostly. It also resembled Tanya’s desk chair back when she was training the 203rd, but that was because the real chair also held that resemblance, even if it was stronger here. It was why she liked it. “Right. Good job, soldier.” Tanya stammered as she took the mug, which probably would have spilled if this was reality given the handling. “Now, my coffee.”
As expected, it tasted exactly how Tanya remembered. What was less expected was the fact that Visha’s body, despite being warm and soft, didn’t really have the same… give as a human body. It was more like being hugged by a giant stuffed animal that had just been in the dryer than actual human contact. Which, given how the construct was an amalgamation of the memory of a person and a stuffed animal, was fair. Tanya doesn’t think she had ever cuddled with her subordinate, which was good, as such behavior was inappropriate.
After a moment of savoring the coffee, still perfect after far too long, Tanya decided that she should move on. “Visha, are there any exits in this place beyond the way we came in?”
“Not anywhere you’d want to go, Major.” Visha replied. “There’s a tunnel into the sensorium in the shelves there, but they’re still in the planning phase for tonight’s dreams, so it’s not particularly interesting. The director there isn’t exactly a person one wants around.” Hm. That was vaguely interesting, but maybe later.
As they walked back into the main hub of the Motherlobe, Tanya’s eyes flicked around as she picked out differences from the real thing. The floating platforms that Tanya always felt were proof that there was no such thing as work safety in the Psychonauts had been replaced with platforms that held statues, each with a blackboard outlining facts about the person the statue portrayed. Miss Mila was one of them, of course, but so were Agents Nein and Forcythe, and one for each of the Psychic Six. A few had groups of statues instead, each bound by some easily understandable theme. Floating up to the one depicting Agent Hollis, Tanya looked at the blackboard to check how worried she should be if this was seen.
Agent Hollis Forscythe
-The woman Grand Head Zonotto foists duties he doesn’t want to do on
-Much more suited to the position of Grand Head’
-Composed, good judge of importance
-Cares about safety
-Psychic Specialty: Mental Connection
-Sharp dresser
-Favorite food: ???
-Detests cilantro
Tanya stopped reading each one, quickly becoming bored with reading what they already knew… which was because she was literally reading her own mind. With that mental knot untied, Tanya skimmed the rest to confirm there wasn’t anything embarrassing there. Just… a thorough assessment of every little fact Tanya knew about the woman.
“This seems… okay.” Tanya said to herself. “If I want to make a convincing facade, it should contain some sensitive information that I can afford to reveal.”
“Yes, Major.” Visha contributed, saluting.
“Hm… the relief looks different.” Tanya said out loud as she floated herself to the art in question. In the real world, it was a stone carving on the wall that depicted the Psychic Six. Here?
Much like the real depiction, it was stylized. Five panels. The center one, where Ford Cruller was supposed to be, had a strange man that Tanya didn’t really recognize, tall and severe, wearing glasses and a business suit but with no face. Who was this?
Tanya jolted as she realized that this was her old self. The one in her first life. How could she have… Why wasn’t there a face? …It must be because this wasn’t the section of her mind where her first life memories were stored. Yes, that makes sense.
To the left of her old self, where Agent Boole was normally depicted, was Tanya’s second life. Oddly, the stylization reminded Tanya of a marionette, with visible joints and strings being pulled between the depiction of her first life and the far left panel, where there was…
“BEING X!” Tanya spat out, glaring at the religious iconography that infested this section of her mind. Tanya immediately unleashed a salvo of explosive spells at the depiction… which did precisely nothing. “I suppose that’s what Agent Nein meant when he said that it was difficult to alter your own mind.” She idly commented to Visha, who giggled at the observation.
To the right of her first life, in the section that normally had Helmut Fullbear and ex-Agent Zonotto arm in arm over the divider that was technically present, there was Tanya again, but instead depicted as a doll rather than a puppet, held in the arms of Miss Mila. To the far right… Being X again, but with a bored, dismissive expression instead of the cruel laughter the first one had. Not entirely unexpected, given the theme of the opposite side.
“This is clearly unacceptable for the view for guests.” Tanya declared. “Now, what on earth is over here?” This half of the Motherlobe was where you could get to the staff apartments, as well as a few “businesses” that catered to the staff in their off hours. One half had entertainment, including a bowling alley and skating rink, while the other half had services, such as a hair salon and a spa. The outward appearance of the bowling alley, on the left, had been exchanged for what appeared to be… from the target reticules, maybe a shooting range? It was labeled ‘The Devil’s Playhouse’. Tanya made a note to change that.
Inside the annoyingly named area, the interior was surprisingly similar to the real place: a hallway that led to the bowling alley, with an offshoot that led to all of the other entertainment options. The aesthetic was more… militant, vaguely reminding her of the hallways at the War College. Harmless, if other context is removed.
Walking into the bowling alley, Tanya immediately revised her assessment. This was a shooting gallery. It looked an awful lot like the one in the War College, as while there weren’t any marksmanship standards for the officers, the scores were clearly displayed, and it was a factor for being considered among the twelve Knights. While nobility was an outdated custom, there was a visceral pleasure in earning such a direct promotion in status as a result of one’s own efforts. Tanya glanced at the scoreboard, and saw what she expected: in first place was Tanya von Degurechaff, with one point shy of a perfect score, followed by the 203rd’s top aces, in the order that Tanya internally ranked them when it came to skill in combat. “...Maybe if I change the names to their callsigns, it would be acceptable.”
“If you say so, Major.” Visha agreed. Was she this sycophantic in reality? Or was that just an imperfect recollection? Or Tanya was just being paranoid. All three are possibilities when Being X enters the equation. She brought out a notepad and wrote something down.
“Let’s take a look at the game.” Tanya said, going to the weapons locker and opening it up. Instead of a physical object within, a series of holographic panels were beamed out of the container, creating an interface that reminded Tanya of her favorite first person shooter. “I must have spent hundreds of hours on this…” She said with a smile. She manipulated the holograms as if it was a smart display, browsing the selection of weapons.
Unsurprisingly, it included every single weapon that Tanya had ever used in any game as well as the kinds from any video game… including the ones that had no business being used in a 1920s era firing range. “I’ll need to constrain this.” She said as she made a selection. An anti-material rifle manifested in the locker, which expanded to fit the massive weapon. It was some kind of Barrett, although Tanya couldn’t consciously remember exactly which model it was, which was reflected in the display.
Visha’s eyes sparkled at the weapon. “Wow, Major! I’ve never seen such an amazing rifle…” She stroked it reverently as Tanya brandished it. “Is it time to shoot some Francois? Or Communists?”
“Why not?” Tanya asked, the undoubtedly heavy weapon feeling light as a feather as she maneuvered it to the firing range. Did it make sense? Not really. Would a gun from her second life have weight? Maybe.
The War College’s firing range was not indoors. It was a field backstopped by a concrete wall that they had piled a bunch of dirt in front of, as the dirt made pleasingly large explosions when fired at by modern weapons, and it cut down on the amount of maintenance that needed to be done to that wall. More video game menus popped up, a selection of firing range setups allowing one to pick what exactly one could blow up.
Tanya had loaded the rifle (using the menu) with bullets enchanted with an explosive spell, so she picked a Russy battalion. The firing range morphed, the ground suddenly half of a kilometer below the firing range’s counter. Below was a view of the aforementioned battalion, infantry marching on foot with tracked platforms to support, ample anti-air to fend off mage assaults.
With a wide grin and Visha’s cheers to accompany it, Tanya spent an enjoyable amount of time killing communists, as all soldiers should. The war was never really the same after she learned exactly what prompted Rus into entering the war. Loliya…
Without Tanya interfacing with the firing range and without reloading her rifle, the firing range changes to an overhead view of Moskva, and Tanya immediately shot the NKVD’s headquarters, both the public one and then the secret one that she only learned about later. Idly, she noted that her weapon had changed to the one she had used on that attack… The structures exploded messily with all the force of a maximum power explosive spell.
“It was one thing to know that the massive waste was being waged to redraw maps or because of machismo…” Tanya said to Visha. “But as empty of reasons for such a loss of human resources as those were, there’s just no topping ‘because a pedophile wants a new toy’ for the worst reason to send millions of soldiers to their deaths.”
“No question, Major.” Visha replied.
Tanya examined the shooting gallery once more. “...This has to go.” She concluded. It was too enmeshed with her second life. “At best, I’ll need to incorporate Agent Nein’s marksmanship lessons and make it look like that’s where this all came from.” Would some gilding hint towards the usage of the nugget of wisdom? That seems like it would be tricky to research.
“There are other entertainment options, Major.” Visha reminded Tanya as she wrote down the notes Tanya just dictated.
“Right.” Tanya said, leaving the room. After the door shut, she stopped, sniffing at the air. Looking down, she noted that her uniform was now filthy with ash, concrete dust, and blood. “Ah, I should fix this.” Tanya focused on the idea of clothes, trying to spin out figments she could claim. After a moment, the various outfits she had worn in her lives started to manifest in the now familiar chalk drawing format. There were also some outfits she’s only seen other people wear, but a moment’s consideration had Tanya reaching out towards her old dress uniform. “There we go.” It was crisp and fresh, as it always was when she had a chance to use it, and Tanya felt freshly showered, her hair instantly done up into the usual style.
In fact… Tanya looked herself over, noting the subtle differences as she flexed and hopped in place. “I feel… strong.”
“You’ve truly come back, Major! Congratulations!” Visha said exuberantly. She picked up Tanya again and gave her another giant bear hug.
“Yes, I appear to have completely transformed myself into my second life’s form.” Tanya said with wonder. Could she? Tanya looked around for the suits or school uniforms from her first life… but saw nothing, just military uniforms and childish outfits. Even focusing on such things produced no figments. “...Drat.” How was it determined what did or did not produce figments? Questions for later.
The other entertainment options were actually rather limited. She expected some kind of strategy game at least, but beyond the firing range, the rest were entirely confined to entertainment options she held within this life: An obstacle course that shifted randomly, tainted with reminders of basic training and the 203rd’s training courses. “Definitely need to cut the artillery.” She dictated to Visha, who had brought the notepad back out. The other two options were a small army of dolls that enacted whatever imaginary scenario you told them to emulate and something that Tanya would like to say was based off of builder video games, but was more accurately just exceptionally fancy building blocks; another legacy of the years spent with no intelligent conversation.
At the start of this life, Tanya decided to put a little effort into actually seeming childish, and as such spent the majority of the first three or four years of this life building facsimiles of buildings from her first two lives, and reflecting on various what-ifs from her previous lives. In other words, she played with blocks and dolls. It wasn’t so bad; the limits of the entertainment was in your imagination and intelligence, and while Tanya never considered themselves particularly artistic, a few blocks could be repurposed as dice and she still remembered a few wargame rules. Lesser girls would have gone mad, but despite the unusual format of her mind, Tanya was still pretty confident in her sanity.
If only she could trust the Psychonauts to agree with that assessment. ‘Suffering from delusions.’ Bah! Mary did represent a security risk, now that Tanya thinks about it. Hopefully, her memories of ‘The Devil of the Rhine’ were too warped by caricature to be recognizably Tanya. Tanya walked out of the entertainment section, looking at a woman who was, in life, just rather fat, but in Tanya’s mind, she was short enough for her width to make her outright round. Tanya didn’t know the woman’s name, but resolved to learn it later.
“Visha, do you have the time?” Tanya asked.
“No, Major.” Visha replied without an ounce of contrition. “The Director has sent a message asking when you plan on going to sleep.” Visha looked worried as she asked the question, before carefully elaborating. “He’s been positively gleeful about the available material for your dreams tonight.” She spoke as if it was a warning.
Tanya reviewed the day’s embarrassments, ignoring the figments produced by that act. “...not yet.” She eventually said. “Is everything in this section just an assortment of memories?” She asked Visha.
“Agent Nein told you that a sane mind is pretty much just that.” Visha reminded her.
“Ah yes.” Tanya replied, remembering that particular explanation. “Let’s just do a quick catalog of the remainder and then we can check out the other sections.” She said after a moment of thought.
“Yes Major!”
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Tanya awoke to a pounding noise on the door of the Psychoisolation chamber. When did she fall asleep? They finished logging the sections of the fake Motherlobe, went back to the room she initially entered her own mind through, then… Ah, she must have fallen asleep at that point. Was it because of the hypnotic bed that was there? As they regained consciousness, the first sensation she registered was a feeling of being filthy. Sweat caked her form, and the smell was worse than any armpit. But it didn’t hold a candle to the Rhine front, so Tanya put it out of her mind, having long burned out her Japanese standards of cleanliness. There wasn’t even any stench of blood or gunpowder.
Fortunately, the nightmares were… predictable. There was still a lingering feeling of mortification and embarrassment, but the details were outside of Tanya’s memory, thankfully. The pounding continued, so Tanya crawled over to the entrance and unlocked it, taking the psitanium but leaving behind the pillow and the blankets she had kicked off of herself at some point during the night.
It immediately opened, to reveal the crazed visage of the founder of the Psychonauts, Ford Cruller. He was dragging a janitorial cart, although it floated instead of having wheels, an example of psychic technology bent to something actually useful for once. “Hoo!” He exclaimed, his nose scrunching up. Tanya felt even more self conscious about how filthy they felt. “That’s some real ‘kid locked in a box’ stink, alright. Go on missy, I have to clean up your mess. The sweat alone… Have to give this place a deep clean, else germs will be building their own city within the week!” As Tanya slinked off, turning herself invisible as she went, he added “And get yourself cleaned up too!”
The camp had two bathroom facilities. One was purely toilets and sinks, but the other had three stalls and a set of five shower stalls (per gender, although Tanya would bet some of those stalls were urinals in the boy’s section) with their controls low enough to the ground that the children could use them without assistance… although the younger ones might still need assistance. These stalls were currently in use, and apparently had a line.
There was a third and even forth location… but they were the private bathrooms of the camp counselors. The bathrooms at the place she was instructed to go after she left the Psychoisolation chamber. Perfect.
Tanya invisibly entered Miss Mila’s room, right as Miss Mila, in a towel, was sending a fully dressed Lili Zanotto back into the camper section of the girl’s cabin. Turning around, she immediately noticed Tanya’s invisible presence. “Tanya! Let me see you, dear.” After Tanya dropped her invisibility, she smiled widely. “It’s good to see that you’re okay, Tanya. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”
Tanya plastered a smile on her face as she followed Miss Mila into the bathroom and allowed the woman to undress and bathe her. Some of the first thoughts Tanya had picked up on when her telepathy was developing was how Miss Mila saw herself as the mother for all of the children of the group home, as reading an untrained psychic’s thoughts was even easier than normal, usually. It was somewhat unprofessional of her, but after the fire and being officially adopted by her, Tanya resolved to encourage this mindset, as while being under Miss Mila’s protection but under the scrutiny of the Psychonauts was far from an ideal position to be in, being a known psychic outside of any protection was infinitely worse. Eavesdropping on some of Agent Nein’s conversations with Agent Mentalis about psychic experiments proved the wisdom of this decision.
As such, Tanya had a general policy of just going along with everything Miss Mila suggested in her capacity as Tanya’s parent figure, and to seem happy about it, with only the occasional bit of resistance when the request was particularly onerous. Tanya had worn many masks in her lives, and ‘dutiful daughter’ was a much lighter one to wear in comparison to ‘Imperial Patriot’. If she wanted to bathe and dress Tanya like she was no older than Lili? She had to withstand that exact thing for longer than Lili had been alive already, an encore performance every now and then didn’t matter.
It all came down to her mantra: No matter the trial, it’s still more pleasant than the front lines were.
