A/N: Thanks for all the poll responses! It was fascinating seeing the reasoning behind people's choices. After a bit of vote gathering, and with some options ending up rather close but only one coming out on top, the winner is...
Dramatic pause... drum roll from Phoebe...
C!
I'm super glad a nice chunk of people trust me to make some new worlds and characters! I've had some ideas stewing for awhile, and I'll put my all into bringing them to life. It's my hope to make a small ensemble just as endearing as the rest of the Thorney Tower crew, each with their own unique problems and pasts.
However, I also know some people have an aversion to fresh characters - though maybe I'm just being pessimistic. I'd like to ask anyone who's put off to at least give it a chance. I came up with some new characters specifically for this role, and I've done my best to make them fit both the asylum and the universe as much as possible. I also have no plans to make brand new characters anywhere else beyond the tiny ones that sometimes show up in memory vaults... these new inmates are the only ones with an expanded role, and even then it's still rather small. Still, I acknowledge some people are probably going to sit out until that segment is over or leave entirely. At the least, I'll mark where this new inmate section begins and ends for those who want to jump past it + summarize major occurrences... but seriously, give it a shot first! If you just plain don't care about it at all, though, look out for a couple mini-chapters labelled 'Meanwhile' for some fully canon side char content, and look for a chapter called 'Top of the Tower' to skip right back to the canon main story.
ALSO... those who preferred other options, don't dismay. I've been thinking of ways to incorporate the other ideas, especially since a decent chunk of people don't want the original inmates to be super compact, so I've decided to do a couple more things.
-I'd planned for all 4 original inmates to be pretty brief, but I'm going to extend them a bit longer. They'll still be shorter than any other world we've seen so far, in an experimental style mixing summary and storytelling, but hopefully some extra interactions should please some people. This chapter is now 2-3x longer than it originally was planned to be! And is filled with really fun moments.
-I had an idea involving Crispin that might rear its head later on. Even once he's been snuck past, that won't be the last you've seen of him...
So, to reiterate - four brand new patients and new worlds to go with them, longer snippets involving existing patients, and possibly a chance to take a look at Whytehead later on. ...So I guess, in a way, we kinda got D after all? Damn it. At least it's manageable since Crispin's pushed off until later.
Oh, well. On with the show! Canon inmates first. Here, we, go!
...Oh! One more thing! We've got another art piece from earthvsthederek to commemorate the milestone, featuring the Thorney Tower trio right after arriving at the asylum for the first time! ...Buuuut is still dreadfully archaic and I can't really post any images here, so if you want to see it, check the matching chapter in the Archiveofourown version.
"Allllmost... alllllmost... you've got it! Come on, grab my hand!"
Frazie had carried Dogen with her up the cliff - he was a powerful kid, but far from the most mobile one. Lili, though, had decided to put her training with Frazie to good use, climbing up the rocks by herself before attempting to swing across a branch towards them.
She still had a ways to go, but she managed to jump far enough to snag Frazie's palm. "Nice work!" Frazie praised, helping her up. Just like how Frazie had been training her mind, Lili had trained her agility. Frazie was proud of her... annnnd also glad she only had to carry one child around, not two.
Now, a lone ladder was all that stood between them and the top of the cliff. Taking a steadying breath, Frazie put a foot on it and began her ascent, leading the three up the rungs. Each time they grabbed a step, it rattled and groaned, threatening to fall apart from many years of rot and disuse. She prayed it'd last just a little longer.
Against the odds, it held. They gathered at the top, finally getting a good look at the building that'd haunted hers and Lili's dreams. A large gate barred the way to a courtyard, overrun with weeds and debris. A statue she couldn't quite make out sat in the center of a fountain, which had gone dry long, long ago. And behind it all... sat Thorney Towers itself.
The place was a lot bigger in person. In her head, it'd been a lone tower, tall, but standing on its own. Now, that familiar tower sat at the top of a stout building, stretching up to the clouds, the upper globe where Loboto no doubt resided rimmed by the moon. The place was eerie, shrouded in shadow and echoing with the caw of crows, clearly in a state of disrepair after decades of neglect...
But something was off.
The place should've been fully abandoned and disconnected from its power source long ago. Yet light still flooded the courtyard, a few of the windows in the asylum glowing softly amidst the darkness.
Vernon had told them all he'd known about the tower... but he hadn't known there were people still inhabiting it.
Or that one would be standing outside to meet them.
A stout man faced the wall across from them, muttering under his breath, the scratch of chalk on stone mingling with his murmurs. A web of white criss-crossed all over the bricks, an indecipherable map of text, circles, and interconnecting arrows that none of the newcomers could hope to understand. Or anyone else, for that matter.
Frazie motioned for the kids to keep quiet... not that it helped. It was like the man could feel their eyes boring into him. His head jerked up after a moment, whipping back to stare at them with an equal amount of surprise. Everyone blinked at each other, afraid to make a move.
He broke the standoff first. "No, no, this is all wrong... too many guests today. Too suspicious. First that woman, then the man, and now you three..." The man tapped at the air, lost in thought. "Of course! They want me to lower my guard. They're using children now to mask their intentions. Devious, brilliant! But your innocence can't fool me."
Frazie stared blankly, bewildered, feeling like she'd just been hit by Confusion. "...What?"
"Playing dumb won't work. I've already got you all figured out. No... my employer already said he could handle it when those other two flew over the gate. Flew, I tell you! Like a UFO! But I won't let anyone else slip by."
So Sasha and Milla had gotten in... and immediately gone silent. That didn't bode well. "I don't know who or what you think we are, but those two were our camp counselors!" Lili protested. "Your 'boss' is just holding them and a bunch of brains hostage!"
Now the guard was the one looking at them like they were crazy. Only it was less disbelief, and more... careful consideration. "That... doesn't fit into my calculations at all." As if they weren't there anymore, he turned back to the wall, searching frantically for a bare spot to draw on. "Stolen brains? Flying caretakers? This is even deeper than I imagined...!"
Frazie didn't know much about insane asylums, but she was pretty sure the 'insane' were supposed to be patients, not given security positions. She'd known this guy for two minutes, and already she could tell something wasn't quite right in his head. Trepidatiously, she cleared her throat. "Well, I hate to interrupt whatever... that is, but is there any chance you can let us in to go find them?"
"Sorry," the man replied, "it's my job to keep people out. And even if it weren't... I don't have the key."
"Then who does?"
A shrill screech rang out as his chalk suddenly swerved, making them cover their ears. The man stood still a moment before he turned his head, eyes boring right into them. "The Milkman."
"The... who?" Frazie said. Part of her wondered if he was just making things up. "Well, where is he?"
"I don't know. I am not the Milkman. I'm the guard."
He resumed drawing, lost in his random spurts of rambling again. Leaving him to it for now, Frazie pulled her accomplices in for a huddle. "Alright... I don't think we're going to make any progress with this guy. Ideas?"
"Is there any chance we can just hop the fence?" Lili suggested.
Frazie looked up, inspecting the gate. It didn't seem like it. Frazie might've been able to find a way to scale it, but neither of the younger campers could - she wouldn't be able to climb while carrying them, either. Their Levitation wouldn't take them high enough. Using Telekinesis on each other might work... but if the guard had reported Sasha and Milla, he'd definitely do the same for them, too. It was in their best interest to keep off Coach's radar for now, lest they meet the same fate as their counselors.
She didn't feel comfortable leaving the kids out here with a rambling conspiracy nut, either, even if she could sneak inside herself. "I don't think so. I guess we're going to have to find this... Milkman."
"Maybe he's going potty?" Dogen suggested.
"Or maybe he doesn't even exist," Frazie pointed out. Both were equally likely possibilities considering who they were talking with. "Only one way to find out..."
She looked up and called out to the guard again. "Soooo, do you remember where you last saw this 'Milkman', Mister...?"
"You'd like me to tell you my name, wouldn't you? So you can plug it into your machine that controls my mind?! Well, Boyd would never make such a dumb mistake!"
Frazie blinked. "Right. So you don't know where he is, then?"
Boyd shook his head. "I can't talk about it. They might be listening."
It sounded like there was only one choice, then. His lips might be zipped... but his brain wasn't.
When Frazie pulled out her Psy-portal, the kids already knew what she was planning. "Do you really think that's a smart idea?" Lili whispered. "This guy's a lot more off-kilter than the other campers."
"Not one bit," Frazie replied. "But it's the only one we've got."
Taking aim, Frazie took a couple underhand test swings before chucking the door at the back of Boyd's head. The instant it latched on, he gasped, dropping his chalk. "I've been hit! They found me! I've got to get out of-!"
He calmed, his arms dropping limply. The usual trance washed over him, finally bringing his paranoid mumbling to a stop. Staring blankly at his wall of corruption and conspiracy, he stayed stock still while the door popped open to fill the dark plateau with its glow.
The three campers shared a look. Like it or not, it was time to go in. Altogether, they focused on the door, pouring their consciousnesses into him one by one.
Thus began a series of psychic dives into the lingering residents of Thorney Towers, a medley of minds plagued by all manners of oddities. Starting with a hunt for the mysterious Milkman.
Frazie braced herself for whatever laid in the mind of a mental patient. An M.C. Escher painting? A tornado of conflicted thoughts and feelings? Dogs shooting lasers from their eyes?
None of the above. It was a humble little home, rather cozy actually. The three ended up by the front door, and things looked unusually normal. A nice kitchen, the usual home décor. Dogen tottered about, taking it all in with childlike curiosity, while Lili looked around in disbelief.
Frazie took note of an odd photo frame turned to face the wall while the rest around it looked outward. She flipped it, revealing a family photo of a woman in a sash, some man, and fourteen kids all squeezed into the frame. Plus one more... what seemed to be a young Boyd, shoved halfway out of the shot on the very end.
Before she could dwell too long on what it meant, she felt a small hand tugging at her skirt. She looked down to see Dogen, who pointed off around the corner that led further into the house. "What is it?" Frazie asked, following him into the living room.
She stopped. Apparently things were... a little less normal around the corner. The house would've been rather comfortable if not for the fact half of it had been converted into the lair of a lunatic.
Photos, posters, and newspapers were plastered over almost every square inch. Boyd himself stood contemplating his personal blackboard of theories - the most prevalent apparently starring a big cow scrawled over the easel.
Like before, it was as if he knew whenever he was being watched. This time, though, he didn't mind them, instead considering his scribbles with a finger on his chin. "It's beautiful, isn't it? My life's work. So many pieces, carefully fitted into place... but it's still not enough! There's a few more to find. So close, yet so far..."
"Uh... huh." Frazie tipped her fingers towards the front door. "Do you... want us to go find those pieces for you?" She'd gotten really good at finding metaphorical goodies.
But it was more complex than that, it seemed. "No, no, you're not getting it! You need to see things the way I see them."
...The way he saw things, huh? Perhaps that was easier to achieve than he would assume. Frazie reached out into his mind, taking root with Clairvoyance.
As it turned out, the house was even crazier under the surface. Through his eyes, his scribbling spilled off the board, across the walls, all over every inch of the house. Calculations, deeper connections, and to Frazie's dismay... a drawing of the Milkman. Crossed out. Its label dismissed all doubt: DECEASED(?)
"The Milkman is dead?!"
"What?!" Lili snapped her fingers. "Aw, man!"
"Poor guy," Dogen added.
But it was also far from the truth. "Still so lost in the government's lies!" Boyd criticized them. "Have you learned nothing? Why would they work so hard to cover it up if it was as simple as saying he'd passed? They're hiding something. The G-men. The girl scouts. Timmy from third grade. The dairy industry. It's all connected!"
Usually, Frazie at least had a hunch what to do, where to look. Here, she couldn't even pretend she understood enough to play along. "...So, did you want some puzzle pieces, or...?"
"I want answers." His voice turned colder than a glass of fresh milk as he finally looked their way. "Find him. Find the Milkman. Uncover the truth. Trust no one."
Frazie took that as her cue to skedaddle. She jumped to usher the children away. "Right! Right! We'll find him! You can trust... us?"
"What did I just say?!"
"...Leeeet's get out of here," Frazie whispered, rushing them all outside.
The house had been a mess, thanks to Boyd's myriad of photographs and scribbles, but quaint. Outside, though... was a bit closer to her original guesses.
Frazie had never felt so paranoid in her life.
She wasn't sure what to expect for her first foray into a non-psychic's mind, but it was definitely something less unnerving. Sure, the guy lived in an insane asylum, so she'd already guessed it wasn't going to be a walk in the park... but as soon as they'd stepped out the door, Frazie knew they were in for something far wilder than any camper she'd visited.
Boyd's mind was a confusing hodgepodge of streets and houses, where the laws of physics didn't quite make sense and it felt like someone was watching you everywhere you went. The streets curved and folded in on themselves, sloping off into the distance with no ground beneath them. Every time Frazie whipped her head around, she could swear she just barely missed a pair of binoculars disappearing back into bushes or behind curtains. It felt like the mailboxes were creeping closer to her every time she looked away.
And somewhere hidden in this warped world was the mysterious entity haunting Boyd's every waking moment... the Milkman. They just had to find him.
But they weren't the only ones on his tail.
Shifty figures in trench coats filled the neighborhood, always busying themselves with some task, trying (and failing) to look inconspicuous... and, occasionally, blocking their path. One such group waved stop signs along a fractured road, cutting off the route further into the mind. "Halt," one called when they approached. "Turn back and tread carefully, civilian. If you injure or kill a road crew worker, you can face fines up to $7500 and fifteen years in jail."
Frazie - heck, not even the children - were very deterred by a guy swinging his sign like he was trying to hit flies. "Welllll, we don't plan on doing either of those. So if you'd just let us by..." she said, taking a step past him.
Kch-chk.
She jumped back when the man's face split apart to reveal a machine gun trained right on them. "Road crew workers only. Why do you want by? Are you looking for the Milkman?"
Frazie held her arms in front of her partners, eyes whipping around in search of an answer - fast. She finally opted to telekinetically rip a sign out of the hand of a worker farther down the line. "Hey!" he protested.
She whisked it over to herself and held it high. "We are on the road crew. This is our stop sign."
The gunman narrowed his eyes at her. But finally, he stowed his automatic weapon away back inside his head. "My apologies, fellow road crew worker." ...Then he turned, pointing out the G-Man she'd just robbed. "But that guy isn't with us! Get him!"
The entire road crew pounced their former coworker, burying him in a pile of coats and limbs. Frazie and the kids grimaced, tiptoeing past while they wrestled him down.
"Where is the Milkman?!"
"What happened to the worker that was there a moment ago?!"
"Where did you get your fedora? Tell us who does your tailoring!"
Rest assured, they didn't try to cross the G-men without properly fitting in first anymore.
They weren't the only group the trio had to contend with, though. Somehow, in such an unnerving world full of shady agents and peeping hedges, the creepiest thing of all were little girls. Skating about on roller blades, selling cookie boxes that beeped suspiciously... and their eyes, always wide and unblinking. The Rainbow Squirts.
They didn't seem too picky in their recruitment criteria, though. It seemed in a world of G-MEN, just being a girl convinced them you were on their side. It helped that Frazie's twin hair tufts reminded them of their poofy pigtails. Pros: It made infiltrating the group a lot easier for Lili and Frazie. They even led them back to their base. Cons: Well... they had a uniform.
Frazie tugged at her sash, giving her new orange and green striped dress a taut-lipped glance over. "This isn't my style at all."
"And you think it's mine?" Lili snapped, straining to keep balance on her roller skates as her legs jerked forward and backwards. "At least you're good at balancing!"
"And you've got cool hats," Dogen pointed out, frowning down at the ground. "I wanted one, but they said I couldn't join."
Probably for the best. At least Lili had been working on her dexterity enough to handle the skates, Dogen would be on the floor more often than not. "It's alright," Frazie insisted. "Maybe you keep an eye on those guys instead?"
Both turned their heads to the trench coated figures off in the distance... one of which was currently shoving hedge clippers down his throat. "I am a hedge trimmer. I like to trim hedges. Cutting the bush does not hurt it, only makes it more appealing to the eye."
Frazie pursed her lips. "On second thought, just wait outside while we check things out, alright?"
"Okay."
"Good." Helping Lili keep steady, the two girls skated off into the suburban home where the Rainbow Squirts concocted their devious, milky schemes.
Dogen promptly waddled off towards the G-Men.
Sneaking into the Rainbow Squirt HQ revealed some rather disturbing scenes - little girls polishing sniper rifles, stuffing their cookie boxes with grenades, and worst of all, singing scout songs. But, more importantly, a little waiting and watching soon revealed a hidden compartment they kept behind their ironing board.
A little Invisibility got Frazie and Lili the rest of the way. Sneaking into the house's depths, they found the most troubling sight of all: Boyd. Rather, Boyd, asleep, locked in the refrigerator with a milkman's get-up. Sharing a knowing look, the two girls tugged on the handle, freeing him from his cryogenic tomb.
If only they knew just what they were unleashing.
As the door cracked open and the Milkman ascended up to the sky, there was something wrong with him, with the bottles he held in his basket. This new Boyd was somehow even more unnerving than the first. Before, he was paranoid, confusing, but ultimately harmless. This new one seemed... dangerous.
"I am the Milkman," he said. "Resuming my route."
Frazie and Lili watched him disappear up into the ceiling. "...Waaaaas that a good thing?" Lili asked.
An explosion rang out, shaking the secret chamber. As it turned out... prooobably not.
Back on the surface, the girls returned to an empty house... and chaos in the streets. Just outside, the fully awakened Milkman peppered the streets with milky Molotovs, waging war on Boyd's Censors while the Rainbow Squirts fought alongside him. They didn't seem too pleased, either, struggling in vain to recontain the prefired calcium catastrophe while simultaneously fighting off the mind's protectors.
Lawyers were getting blown up left and right, alongside any kids unlucky enough to be caught in the crossfire. Which begged the question... "Where's Dogen?!" Frazie called, panicked.
"Over here."
Oh. He was okay, at least. ...And surrounded by G-Men. Talking with the G-Men?
Even without a prop, they regarded him as one of their own. "The young one taught us our value as workers," one said.
"We have decided to unionize," said another. "Now, we will receive satisfactory compensation whilst we perform our cover jobs. Dental. Non-explosive snacks. Life insurance."
That last one proved particularly useful very quickly as a stray bottle crashed down and blew a stray G-Man sky high. "Is that the Milkman?!" his neighbor shouted.
They rushed off to join the conflict. Frazie and the kids could only watch as the world's shortest-lived worker coalition and a bunch of lawyers faced an unstoppable dose of Vitamin Destruction.
"Definitely not a good thing," Lili decided.
"...What the hell just happened?" Frazie wondered aloud, getting flashbacks to Phoebe's mind. At least that'd just been an accident. This was... what was the Milkman?
Dogen, of all people, filled in the blanks. "The coat guys told me the Milkman's not supposed to be here. He showed up when the girl scouts did. And they showed up when Coach did. And he's baaaaaad."
The girls glanced his way, surprised. He shrugged. "They said an honorary G-Man should know."
"...Leeeet's just get out of here," Frazie murmured, popping open her smelling salts.
Somehow, Boyd was even more unnerving after they'd helped him. At the least, eyeing the front of the building with fire in his eyes didn't paint a very pleasant picture. But for now, he'd opened the gate and gotten out of the way, so they could move on.
It didn't quite sit right with Frazie. He hadn't improved in any way. Was she still too unskilled after all her practice, or were his problems just too deeply ingrained? His other persona seemed to be Coach's doing, after all. Should she have just left the Milkman be? There wasn't much point in dwelling on it right now. All they could do was pass through the courtyard into the garden.
Another inmate was there, a frazzle-haired woman giving a delightful theater performance, pronged trophy in hand... to a bunch of plant pots. Frazie guided her group past her and into the building, not having the time to stop and assist everyone along the way. Though part of her wished she could... at first, encountering these people had been scary, but after seeing them performing for plants and lost in a web of conspiracies, she was starting to empathize with their plight. They were more a danger to themselves than others. They needed help. And they weren't getting it, trapped here on their island year after year.
Frazie ignored the guilt gnawing at her and focused on their mission. They couldn't do anything for these people if the world was dominated. She'd tell Sasha and Milla about them after they'd rescued the two - and they would rescue them, she told herself. Now wasn't the time to doubt. Maybe the Psychonauts would be able to do something with these patients once all was said and done.
There were more than just Boyd and the actress inside the building. A tall, lanky man played hopscotch amidst piles of rubble in the courtyard, arguing with himself in his general's hat and straitjacket. A light further up in the building signified there was another guest in a room up in the higher reaches. And there - right in front of the elevator - was yet another.
The trio stepped up to him, a small and haggard looking man in a coat. He narrowed his glossy eyes at them, his arms crossed and face squashed. "Going up, Dr. Loboto?" His gaze flicked down to Dogen. "...Sheegor?" And then to Lili. "...Now hold on just a moment."
He squinted even closer, to the point the campers uncomfortably leaned back. After a brief inspection, he snorted. "...Hmph. Newcomers. My eyesight may be going, but ol' Crispin Whytehead would recognize his boss anywhere. Come back when you've chopped your hand off and replaced it with a claw."
Dogen eyed his fingers quizzically. "And then we can go up?"
Crispin grinned devilishly. "Try it and find out."
Frazie reached down to push Dogen's hand back with a firm 'no' before addressing the man again. "Listen... about Loboto? I don't know what he's told you, but he's up there harvesting children's brains. He's kidnapped our friends and our camp counselors. So please... let us up so we can stop him."
She put on her most pitiful, pleading look, the one that'd won over her parents at their most reluctant. The man simply scoffed. "He could be kicking orphaned puppies up there for all I care. He pays my salary, I watch the elevator. That's our arrangement, and that's all that matters."
Frazie was aghast. "You're heartless."
"And you're annoying. So if you'd be so kind, please buzz off and die."
"Or I could just beat you up instead," Frazie pointed out, knuckle raised.
The man looked completely unimpressed. "You could. But you see, the lift doesn't move without my go ahead. And I can't really give that if I'm knocked unconscious, now can I?"
Slowly, Frazie lowered her fist. "Ooooh, you're good."
"Thank you. Now, again... get out of my sight."
Not like that'd be particularly hard. With a drawn-out sigh, Frazie turned to go... then spun right back around, slapping her Psy-portal on his forehead. "Ha!"
She waited for the usual click, the outpouring of light... instead, it slowly slid off his face and clattered to the ground. He raised a brow, unamused. "I'm shaking."
Frazie knelt to pick it up, baffled. "Wha? But... I don't understand."
By her side, Lili touched her forehead, visibly straining. "It's no good. Believe me, I've been trying to set this jerk on fire. He's got some sort of... psychic resistance."
"Courtesy of the good doctor," Crispin said haughtily. "Now, I won't ask you another time. I'm a busy orderly, with an elevator to guard and patients to attend to."
Frazie couldn't believe they were being successfully deterred by this smarmy little troll. Fuming, she shoved her finger in his face. "Listen here, you slimy son of a-!"
"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" A voice roared up in the room upstairs, quickly followed by an easel roughly ejected from its window. "I cannot focus with all this shouting!"
The orderly tutted. "Look, you've upset Mr. Teglee now. And you call me heartless?"
Frazie turned and eyed the thrown portrait, collapsed on its side in the asylum debris. Finally, she threw her hands up. "Alright, fine. You win." She guided the children away, ignoring the watchman's cocky smirk. "Let's go."
Lili peered up at her, surprised. "We're not just going to let this punk turn us away, are we?" she whispered.
"We are... for now." Rather than take them out of the building, though, she led them over to the fallen picture, stooping down to run her fingers over it. "This gives me an idea."
It was a very conflicted piece, for sure. Primarily, a recreation of an intense fight between a bull and a matador - but just barely visible behind it was a shower cap and a blue face. Loboto. The drawing was useless in its current state, but if its creator could remake it, you know, WITHOUT the new additions...
Frazie stood back up, looking around, thinking quickly. If they could get a new painting from Mr. Teglee... borrow that straight jacket from the general in the courtyard... and convince the woman in the garden to part with her pointy trophy... they might just be able to make a convincing enough disguise to fool a half-blind orderly.
She filled the other two in. For lack of any better options, they agreed. Together, they headed back out of the building, opting to deal with the actress first.
Looked like they had to help these folks out after all.
The patients might've been more sympathetic than threatening, but that didn't mean they couldn't still be scary.
At first, the woman in the garden - Gloria Von Gouton - was a lovely, if loopy, lady. Naturally, she was reluctant to part with her well-earned trophy, and unwilling to displease her potted 'fans'. A bit delusional, but completely reasonable.
At least, until she stepped out of her spotlight, the beam of moonlight that filtered down through the ceiling, to better address her visitors.
It was like a switch had been flipped. When darkness fell over her features, they twisted up in rage and suspicion. In an instant, the three of them had gone from adoring fans to schemers and doubters in her eyes. She might even have mistaken them for a figure from her past, raving about how they should be dead.
They had to duck under a flung plant pot as they fled. After her poor audience member smashed against the wall and the campers stopped to catch their breath, the woman returned to her stage, just as chipper as before once the light fell on her.
Not wanting to risk more pottery to the dome, Frazie opted for a more hands-on approach and let them all into Gloria's brain for a little behind-the-scenes look.
Inside her head, it wasn't a surprise to see her mind take the form of a giant theater. A massive stage stretched out before a crowd of colorful figments... and one very rotund, very rude inner critic by the name of Jasper. His constant complaints and venom-laced rants did little to help the cast's dwindling confidence.
It seemed that ever since Gloria had left the stage and gone to the asylum in real life, her mental theater had slowly fallen apart, at a loss for enthusiasm, creativity... a muse. The main director, Becky, struggled to make things work, but they hadn't run a good show in a long time ever since their head actress, Bonita, had retreated to her dressing room. It was impossible to perform with Jasper's constant criticism killing the vibe.
And also... having a saboteur behind the scenes.
The three of them learned of the imaginary theater's sordid history after sneaking into the lead actress' room backstage. An invisible Frazie cracked the door open for the other two to slip inside.
Bonita was sobbing deeply when they arrived... or so it seemed. "Ma'am?" Frazie called gently, soothingly.
"Eh?" Bonita looked up from her hands, eyes completely dry. "What, did Becky run a backstage pass event without telling me again? Ugh." She reached over to shut off her gramophone, the crying shutting off immediately. "Never say I don't love the fans. What can I do for you, sweeties?"
Still thrown off by her baritone, Frazie cleared her throat. "Accctually... we're here to see what we can do for you." She knelt by the actress' side. "Becky filled us in. And, look, I get it... I'm a performer too. It's hard sometimes. But you've got an audience out there counting on you. A crew that needs you." She looked to the kids, and they nodded, backing her up. "So if there's anything we can help with..."
Bonita paused a moment, actually considering their request. "Hmm. You got any experience dealing with Phantoms?"
"...With what now?"
Frazie had been expecting pep talks, errands, maybe having to give her a foot massage. The real reason Bonita hid herself away was less mundane. "Becky didn't fill you in? Tsk." The muse turned to pull out a playbook, opening it up to the cast page... with X's marked across several performers. "That one? Crushed by a spotlight. And that one? Trampled by the knight set piece. And her? Oh, she was an absolute darling. Was. Until someone pushed her into the orchestra and she got wedged in a tuba for a week."
Frazie's ability to relate quickly dried up - somehow, this gig was more dangerous than her family's literally death-defying stunts. "Is this a play or a graveyard?!"
"It's hard to tell the difference nowadays," Bonita admitted, tossing the booklet aside. "We had a good thing going... until a Phantom snuck onto the set. Now, we can't run a show without some disaster striking the production. We've caught glimpses of him, but we can't catch him. I've heard of breaking a leg, but this is ridiculous."
The trio had signed up for more than they'd bargained for, but it was clear what they had to do now. If they wanted to restore Gloria's confidence, her mental world, and hopefully bring her some peace... this Phantom had to go.
They just had to, you know, not have a horrible accident in the process. "We'll do our best," Frazie promised, the kids nodding in agreement.
Back onstage, the trio reconvened to figure out their next step. Frazie glanced up, scanning the scaffolding. She had a knack for finding her way around, but not even her acrobatic expertise could get her that high without some assistance. "I think I can get up there and flush the Phantom out... but we're going to need to get a show going so I have something to jump on. Do you two think you can handle that?"
Lili suddenly looked very sheepish, rubbing the back of her head. "Do I have to? My dad made me try out for a school play before. ...It sucked."
It seemed Dogen had some experience, too. "I played a tree, once. My big sister said I was the best oak she'd ever seen."
Frazie knelt down to put a hand on each of their shoulders. "Sorry, Lili, but it's Broadway or bust. Can you keep the play running and draw the Phantom's attention while I go drag him down here?"
Lili couldn't groan any harder if she tried... but being a Psychonaut meant you sometimes had to do things you didn't want to, even if this one was almost too much. Dogen, though, eager to reprise his star role, was onboard. They ran the plan by Becky and, though she was hesitant to cast a couple rookies, they had more than a few Phantom-created gaps that needed filling. Everything was ready to go.
It was showtime.
Frazie waited in the wings while the kids took the stage alongside the rest of the remaining cast. Dogen, dressed as a sunflower, waddled onstage with a couple other floral actors. While his comrades proceeded to prance around, the boy stood stopped out in the open, looking lost. "Line?" he called.
"You don't have any!" Becky hissed.
"Oh."
In the audience, Jasper snorted back a laugh. "I didn't think this theater could sink any lower, but you found a shovel and dug! I'd admire the dedication if it wasn't so pathetic."
Ignoring the heckling, Lili stepped onstage to deliver her lines with flagrantly forced enthusiasm. "Another day trapped in this horrible boarding school, without so much as a single letter from my mother!" Who wrote this crap? The list of favors Frazie owed her was growing lengthier by the minute. Lili shielded her eyes and looked, scanning the skies. "Oh, how I wish a hot air balloon would appear and whisk me away! ...Right now! ...Not in a hurry or anything here, nope!"
Offstage, Becky groaned and slapped her forehead. "Oh, no. Improv."
Regardless of the quality of the line delivery, that was the cue for the prop department to send a balloon down for Frazie to hop on. Eternally grateful for Lili's sacrifice, Frazie clambered up the background and rode the prop up to the rafters.
The catwalks were extensive, disconnected, and frankly, difficult to navigate. Frazie had no idea how the crew was meant to get around up here. Thankfully, it wasn't much of a problem for her. Climbing ropes, flipping across light posts, and climbing ever higher and higher, Frazie made her way through the darkened backstage, in search of the mysterious figure that lurked in it.
At long last, Frazie found him... the Phantom, a thin and shadowy figure in a stark-white mask, looking just as grim as his namesake. The saboteur haunted the theater's upper reaches, presently leering over the side of the scaffolding... and holding a hefty sand bag in his skeletal mitt, prepped to drop it onto Lili down below.
The second Frazie realized what he was up to, she cried out, pouncing forward with a snarl. "Don't you dare!"
"Gah!" The specter's load was knocked from his grasp, plummeting down below... though thankfully knocked far enough off-course that it crashed harmlessly by Lili's side.
The girl jumped, eying the sandbag closely. "You know, I almost wish that'd hit me."
Back up above, Frazie wrestled with the fiend, grabbing for his mask. The Phantom tried to fight her off, but couldn't keep her from slipping her fingers beneath the edges and ripping it off to reveal...
"Jasper?!"
Somehow, the hefty critic's face glared up from under her. "But... how?" she asked, letting his mask slip out of her grasp. "You're, like, super fat!"
"Girdles work wonders, you brat!" In response, he lashed out and punched her off him, scrambling to his feet. By the time she'd picked herself back up, he was already fleeing, jumping from catwalk to catwalk on his way back down to the ground.
"Hey! Get back here!" Refusing to let him get back to the stage before she did, Frazie turned to the railing... and jumped off.
She slowed her descent as much as she could. She tumbled into a glittering purple mental cobweb, bounced off, and slid down a support beam as far as it would go. She hopped off at the bottom and let her thought bubble gently carry her the rest of the way down.
As soon as she landed, Dogen and Lili dropped the act and reunited with her. She checked to make sure no one had gotten hurt. "Are you guys alright?"
"Physically? Yes," Lili confirmed. "Emotionally, no."
She was fine. Dogen, too. All was well.
Except, apparently, Jasper was faster on his feet than he seemed.
Before Frazie could even turn her head to look for him, the stage began to rumble, a mechanical whirr blaring to life behind them. They whipped their heads just in time to watch Jasper's seat tear itself from the wall, transforming before their eyes into a flying, pen-armed fighting machine.
"How's that for a plot twist?" the critic raved, manning the controls. "You've forced my hand! If my scathing reviews won't bring down this theater, then I'll just do it myself!"
Frazie and Lili braced themselves for a fight. Dogen... just shut his eyes and concentrated his powerful Telekinesis on Jasper's chair.
Its motor whirred and stalled, leaving the man's ride stuck in midair. "What the blazes...?!" It ignored his attempts to control it, instead slowly flipping upside down. Try as he might, Jasper couldn't cling to it for very long once Dogen started shaking it vigorously.
Dumped flat on his oversized behind with an 'oomph', Jasper could only blink back surprise. "You... you can't just skip the boss fight, you heathens!" he spat in disgust. "It's the grand culmination of the conflict! The final dramatic confrontation! You hacks can't even stick to the script!"
While he ranted and raved, the girls approached him, cracking their knuckles. Once the sharp thwack of punches and kicks rang out, Dogen flinched and covered his eyes... then snuck a peek through his fingers.
Without his chair, Jasper's bark was a lot worse than his bite. And with Gloria's inner critic silenced for good, the Phantom dealt with, the Von Gouton theater was primed for its grand reopening. Now Bonita could finally shine... and Gloria could once more step out of the spotlight.
Back in reality, the trio winced once Gloria stepped out of her spotlight again... but this time, she simply smiled and hummed with thought. "Mmm... you know what? I think I'll retire while I'm still young."
Things had gone a lot better than with Boyd. Now that Gloria was putting her troubles and career behind her, she was more than happy to part with her trophy. She and Lili even had a short but pleasant chat about gardening once the actress made it clear she planned to give the grounds a long-overdue watering. Gloria wasn't quite sure what the child meant when she said, "By the way, the plants loved your performance," but she'd heard far stranger things from fans.
With the first part of their disguise in hand, the next step was to go apologize to the person they'd accidentally upset - Edgar Teglee, the talented artist. Apparently, the man had anger issues, but you'd never be able to tell at a glance outside of the occasional tossed easel. While he was big, tough, and tattooed, he had a wise and gentle soul, tempered by years of solitude in this forsaken place.
His condition wasn't a lie, though... once the campers requested a new Loboto painting, he was happy to oblige, as finishing a complete portrait of the doctor was part of his therapy. It went well at first... until, as if against his will, his brush swerved to make new additions. Before long, yet another bull fight graced the canvas, blotting out Loboto's face. That's when Edgar got mad.
They had to keep him from punching a hole straight through the picture. It was a strange condition, but apparently, he was prone to drawing bull fights over all his pieces. He didn't want to. He didn't even know why he did it. But it was like a curse, the sport sneaking its way into all his works and riling him up whenever he thought about it.
Clearly, no one was getting a completed portrait until something was done - which meant the disguise would be incomplete, and Loboto wouldn't let Edgar leave, either. There was only one thing to do... dive inside to find the root of the problem.
The three campers headed through the Psy-portal, made their landing... and gasped.
His world was as artistic as he was. Black Velvetopia. Designed after its namesake, dark colors reigned supreme, with buildings all around them painted in shades of dark pink and purple. The colors that weren't dark stood out sharply, bright, basically fluorescent. This painting brought to life spread out all around them, under a purple sky and a multicolored sun. It was somber, haunting, yet beautiful, inspiring... it was a sight you'd never be able to see in the real world.
The color scheme even extended to the campers. The three visitors peered down and looked over their clothing, only to see colorful patterns had been etched all over them. Anything on them that wasn't already a dull shade was now bright and vivid. "I feel like a shiny quarter," Dogen noted with a giggle.
"Or a neon sign," Lili observed.
"It is so much more than just the glow," a voice called near them. "It is the stark contrast between light and shadow. A way to make yourself seen amidst the dark. To truly grab people's attention... especially hers."
Edgar was there already, in the center of it all, constructing a tower from massive playing cards. Surprisingly sturdy, the cards held his hefty weight as he built them higher and higher... yet never high enough to reach the sky. His goal, where the most wonderful woman he'd ever seen awaited him, held captive by the sun her face was emblazoned on.
It was a task doomed to fail. He just didn't have enough cards. That, the trio might be able to help with... surely there were more hidden in this artsy landscape. There was another problem, though, one a bit more difficult to manage.
El Odio.
Whenever Edgar built himself too high, like a great pink wrecking ball, the bearded bull appeared to tear down his work. The campers hadn't watched him work for long before the ground shook, signaling the arrival of the beast. Its mighty hooves rocked the plaza, sending all of the painter's hard work fluttering to the ground before the creature escaped into a nearby painting.
Naturally, their best course of action was to follow it. Into the frame, into the deeper city... to find cards, to find the bull's weakness.
To find a solution.
It was not a simple task. Velvetopia was a land as dangerous as it was beautiful. El Odio rampaged across the town at all times, making it hard to progress. Colorful censors and a medley of other dangers lurked as well, bringing new meaning to the suffering behind art.
The trio could at least find brief respite in the alleys. Odio never went there, and while sometimes they had to clean some enemies out before they could rest, the side areas were the only place they could find any friendly faces.
Humanoid dogs, just as artsy as their host... and also really good at poker. A St. Bernard. Collie. Dalmatian. Bulldog. Dogen was ecstatic to meet them, much to their chagrin.
"Doggy, doggy, doggy~." The boy scritched right above the Collie's tail once they'd met him, laughing as it batted him in the face.
"Please, make him stop!" the dog demanded. "This is so demeaning."
"I dunno," Frazie said, pointing out his thumping leg. "It looks like you're enjoying it to me."
"I can't help it!" The Collie tried to shoo Dogen away, only for him to start rubbing his belly through his poncho. "No, not there! Why must it feel so good?!" His brush clacked to the ground as he rolled onto his back, looking equal parts delighted and ashamed while Dogen's assault continued. He gave the girls a pitiful look. "Look, I'll give you a discount on my art if you get this little pup away from me!"
Lili barely hid her amused smirk behind her hand. "We're a bit light on arrowheads at the moment. So if by 'discount' you mean 'free'..."
"Ack! Anything! I'll even throw in information about that blasted bull!"
Now that was an offer they couldn't refuse. Frazie finally, mercifully, plucked Dogen away from his victim. "Alllright, playtime's over."
"Awwww..."
The intel was juicy. Apparently, a lone bullfighter not only lived in the city, he had prior history with Edgar. Not good history - he'd apparently stolen the inmate's lover while he was doing an art commission for him - but history nonetheless. Hopefully his unscrupulous past could be overlooked, because they could really use a matador right now. They just had to find him.
In the meantime, they worked on fetching those cards for Edgar. They were well guarded, four Queens scattered throughout the city, each held by a powerful luchador that didn't intend to part with their trophy easily.
Frazie had long given up on things ever just being as simple as a nice chat. At least wresting the cards from their grasp was some pretty good stress relief.
The wrestling ring quaked once Frazie kicked its tiger-masked champion in the face, sending him flat on his back with a groan. Frazie took the chance to climb up on the turnbuckle and launch herself onto him, elbow first. A loud thump rang out and the audience roared, equal parts cheering and booing. Frazie just laughed and stood tall, fists in the air. She'd gladly be the heel if it meant she got the cards in the end.
Plus, her biggest fans were there to cheer her on. "Use the chair!" Lili shouted from the sideline, cupping her mouth. "Use the chair!"
Dogen grabbed a folding seat with his mind and threw it in the ring. Frazie caught it, turning and swinging at the burly brute that'd just gotten back on his feet. A loud clang rang out. The arena shook as he toppled again.
Lili whooped and hollered. "Now tag me in!"
The girl was even more into it than Frazie, but they made an unstoppable duo. Soon, all the cards were in hand, and they just had to find the matador - Dingo Inflagrante. After scouring the entire city, the trio finally found him hanging out inside his apartment on the outskirts.
He was flashy. He was strong. He was... kind of a self-centered jerk. But he agreed to help them dispatch El Odio, so they dealt with it. Finally, all the pieces were in play to help Edgar reach his lost love in the sun.
The trio delivered the Queens to their rightful owner. Now that he was playing with a full deck, Edgar could build his tower to the sky. The three of them helped out, using their Telekinesis to set things in place, the structure defying gravity more and more as it spiraled towards the sun.
Once it was finished, it was a work of art in itself. There was only one problem...
Edgar wasn't around to witness it.
The campers looked around, baffled at the sudden disappearance. "Maybe he climbed ahead without us?" Lili suggested. They had no choice but to begin their own ascent, hoping to find the man on the other end.
Instead... they found an arena. There, the woman awaited - Lampita, Edgar's old flame. Like a princess in her tower, she'd stayed up in the sky waiting for someone to free her from her captor.
Except in this case, her jailer wasn't a dragon. It was a bull. And El Odio was waiting for them.
Or rather... Edgar was waiting for them.
The dog's story had been true, but mangled by metaphor. Dingo wasn't just a matador and Lampita wasn't his ex-wife... they were Edgar's high school sweetheart and the varsity cheerleader that stole her away. The grief had made him choke in his wrestling match, costing his team the finals... and he'd never been able to let it go.
El Odio was his lingering anger brought to life in a new form, consuming him, making him reckless and out of control... and a prime target for bullfighters.
It would be a real shame if they sicced one on him earlier, wouldn't it?
Oh, right.
Right in time to make sure the spotlight focused solely on him, the matador arrived with a flourish of his cape. Just the sight of him sent Edgar's already-simmering fury into full-blown outrage.
"I had it all!" Edgar snarled, falling to all fours as horns sprouted from his head. "The wrestling championship! The girl of my dreams! I loved her! And then he showed up! He stole her away!" A haze filled his eyes as he grew and morphed before their very eyes, stomping the ground with his new hooves. "They mocked me in the semi-finals and threw off my game! My relationship, my teammates, my scholarship, gone! They cost me everything!" He couldn't be reasoned with anymore. He was already charging madly at Dingo. "THEY! RUINED! MY! LIFE!"
With all the agility you'd expect from a cheerleader turned matador, Dingo evaded him, laughing cruelly when the out of control artist slammed into the wall. "You did that yourself, my friend! The better man wins the girl... and you clearly weren't the better man."
Even Lampita was getting in on the derisive cackling now. It was Lili who spoke up in his defense, calling out to the bull. "Edgar, listen to me! Look, I know I'm young, but trust me, I've met girls just like her! It was never going to end well for you. They chew you up and spit you out! They use you to try and get back with someone else, or they try to mind control the camp DJ into liking them!"
That barely made sense even if he wasn't in a delirious rage. "What?!"
"Never mind! The point is... they're rotten! You got out of it before things could get really bad! So why are you still clinging on to it?!"
For a moment, the bull halted in its tracks - then threw off her words with a roar, rushing for Dingo once more. His hooves shook the arena as he charged headlong towards another feint.
At least, until they stopped touching the floor. As he ran on, his feet left the ground, cycling futilely in the air as an even greater power held him aloft.
Dogen hummed with concentration, lifting the massive beast off the ground... and over the matador. Dingo was too baffled by the flying bull to even think about dodging, realizing the danger too late when the creature was suddenly brought down on top of him.
WHAM! Wham, wham, wham! Whamwhamwhamwhamwham.
Lampita watched in horror as her lover was pummeled into a pancake by a small child with a big mind and a bigger bull. "Babe!" she shrieked.
Frazie and Lili winced with each blow. Note to self, never get on Dogen's bad side. Once the beating stopped and Edgar still hung in the air, dazed, Frazie called out to him. "Are you okay?"
"Hrrrrgh... a bit dazed," Edgar replied. Below him, the matador twitched, and the bull couldn't help but snort with something like laughter. "Yet, strangely satisfied."
Dogen gently lowered him and, now that Dingo was too battered to heckle him anymore, Lili tried again. "Look, is that really what you want to dedicate your life to?" she asked, gesturing to the broken pile of man and the woman that'd rushed to his side.
Lampita tried to peel her lover off the ground, sobbing all the while. "I think they popped your bubble butt, baby!"
"Cah weh stiww mayk vahsety?" Dingo slurred through his broken jaw.
Lili shook her head in disgust. "Besides, you haven't seen them in years. They're probably not even together anymore... and if they are, they're probably making each other miserable."
Edgar took a deep breath, eying the pitiful sight before him as he considered her words. "You... you might be right, niña."
With this understanding came change. Slowly, he became himself again. His horns melted into his head, his body faded from pink to purple, and he stood on two feet once more. Realizing just how rotten they were - and left a bit content from indirectly pulverizing his lifelong hated - he found it hard to care for them anymore.
So, he did the only sensible thing: Eject them straight out of his mind.
A pit in the arena opened up, swallowing the two whole. They screamed all the way down, up until Edgar closed the hole up and dusted off his hands. "Ah... much better."
While Edgar basked in a mind untethered by hatred for the first time in years, Frazie gave Lili a pat on the back. "Whoa. You should be a relationship therapist, Lili. You know, help people with bad break-ups."
The kid stuck her tongue out and gagged. "Don't even joke about that. I can barely tolerate Elka and Kitty's existence, let alone deal with their fallout. C'mon... let's get out of here."
After finally learning the truth of El Odio and bringing peace to Edgar's troubled past, they were now the not-so-proud owners of an unaltered painting of Loboto. They'd make good on their promise to bring it to the doctor, at least... by smashing it over his head. And with that in hand, there was only one patient left to go.
The three of them sought out the lanky man that'd been playing hopscotch... or rather, some kind of strategy game. With his arms securely fastened by his straitjacket, he was left moving pieces around the makeshift board with his feet. Maybe he'd be willing to part with his coat so he could play more efficiently and they could complete their costume?
The last thing Frazie had been expecting to find here was a historical figure... or at least, the ancestor of one. The man was Fred Bonaparte, the direct descendant of Napoleon Bonaparte - and also his host, as the general's genetic memory had possessed his great great great grandson in an attempt to whip him into shape. Fred was what you call a 'chronic loser' - at least, that was what he called himself.
Even if he wanted to take off his jacket, Napoleon wouldn't let him. It was his 'uniform'. "Last time I took it off, he tried to make me eat snails!" Fred explained, trying to nudge a teddy bear across the floor with his toes. "I'm still not sure if it was a punishment or his idea of lunch."
They'd already helped two patients and potentially turned a third into a milk-slinging madman, what was one more? The three of them headed right in.
The inside of Fred's mind was surprisingly small, yet relaxing. A roaring fire lit a lavish parlor where he and his ancestor - the Napoleon Bonaparte, or his imaginary representation at least - sat locked in a one-sided game of wits. A board game of wits, to be exact.
That wasn't to say Fred was stupid, even if he insisted he was. He simply refused to try. Something had happened that'd stripped his competitive spirit, and until he got it back, Napoleon swore to keep pestering him.
Admittedly, Frazie had expected something grander from Napoleon after Coach had talked him up... or taller, at least. Still, he was the only one in this room taking the game seriously, so if they wanted to help Fred, she needed to learn how to play from him.
Frazie peered over the side of the basin the board sat in, eyes flicking back and forth at the assortment of tiles within. "So... what are we playing?"
"Waterloo-o," the general replied curtly. "To think, my greatest shame, now 'fun for all ages'. It's a shame, non?"
"I guess. Is it anything like Gruloky? I've played that a lot with my Nona."
A twinkle gleamed in Napoleon's eye. "Oho! You've played tarot games, mademoiselle? Perhaps I'll get a better challenge out of you than the lout over there. Come, listen well, I shall explain the rules to you all..."
It wasn't all that hard - just get past Napoleon's soldiers, move one of Fred's knights into Napoleon's castle, and they won. "I think I can manage it," Frazie decided. "This sounds simpler than Gruloky."
The general chuckled, a slight sneer on his lips. "Not the way I play it. Take a closer look..."
So she did. Frazie stood on tiptoe to peer farther into the basin...
And let out a yelp when she toppled right in.
The cardboard grass rushed up to meet her, the ground now the same size as she was. Quickly pulling out a thought balloon, she let herself down gently, taking everything in. All around her, set pieces had come to life - plastic windmills spun, token cows grazed, and to her dismay, the 2D river now flowed like the real deal.
A second later, she heard the soft crunch of Lili landing on the grass next to her. "Whoa," her friend breathed. "Maybe this won't be as boring as I thought."
Suddenly, the sky above them blotted out when Dogen's massive head peered over the edge at them. "You guys are so tiny!" he shouted down, his voice amplified to max volume by his size. "Should I come in, too?"
Frazie covered her ears, teeth grit. "No, stay up there! We could use you giving us intel from above. ...And you don't need to be so loud, we're right here!"
"Okay!" he responded, just as loudly.
With their ear-shattering eye in the sky at the ready, it was time to play. Exceeeept Fred had no pieces - in this mental world, the toy soldiers had a mind of their own, and none of them seemed all too happy with the situation either. To Fred and Napoleon, it was just a game, but to them, they were in the middle of a real war. And they were on the perpetually losing side.
Just like with Fred, the girls needed to reignite the piece's fighting spirit, whether it be by arming them, paying them, or punting a bunch of censors off their roof. Soon, they'd amassed a decent enough force to march on Napoleon's army...
Wait, where were his soldiers?
At least half of Napoleon's pieces had straight up vanished. Even the general himself seemed baffled, scratching his head with the hilt of his sabre. "Sacré bleu! Deserters! How did this happen?!"
While he fretted over his diminishing forces, Dogen popped into view again, whispering down to the other two. "Don't worry... I've been eating his pieces when he isn't looking."
The two girls stared up at him, unsure whether to be impressed or disturbed. It definitely leaned towards the latter when he let out a little belch. "Uhhh... you know what?" Frazie said. "Keep up the good work."
Safe to say, helping Fred win the game wasn't all that hard with a little help from Dogen. With half Napoleon's strategy completely demolished, directing a knight into the general's castle was easy as one, two, three.
Once their task was done, the game was won, and the girls had regrown to normal size, they expected Napoleon to be livid over his sudden and nonsensical defeat. But instead... he laughed, beaming with pride. "I do not know how you did it, Fred, but you and your little helpers did me in! Très bien! Perhaps you aren't as pitifully hopeless as I thought."
"Eh? I won?" Fred seemed just as surprised... but for the first time in perhaps ever, the glow of victory filled him. "Ha! I won! Did you hear that? I WON!"
"Does it count if we did all the work?" Lili whispered to Frazie.
The older girl just shrugged. "So long as he's feeling better, don't burst his bubble."
With Fred's fighting spirit reignited, Napoleon had no more reason to stick around. His parting words weren't for Fred, though... they were for Frazie. "Good game, mon ami. Should we ever meet again, I hope you'll honor me with a rematch... or perhaps some Tarocchini?"
Frazie didn't expect Fred would ever have to deal with his ancestor again, but she nodded at him with a smile as he faded out of existence. "You're on."
Back in Thorney Towers, Fred was more than relieved to hand over his jacket, and take a brief rest after his torment was finally over. The campers finally had all the pieces... they just had to put them all together. A trophy for a claw. A painting for a face. A straitjacket for a lab coat. Altogether, it made Frazie look... well...
"I look stupid," Frazie griped, peeking through the holes she'd poked in the portrait's eyes.
"And Loboto doesn't?" Lili countered, helping her slip the jacket on.
"Good point." While they put the finishing touches on, Frazie's eyes trailed to the side, spotting Dogen off by himself in the corner. "What're you doing over there?"
The boy perked up. "Oh! Just playing with this thing I found." He turned around... holding a jarred brain in his arms. "Someone left it in a basket over here."
Frazie's eyes widened when she saw Milka's eyes staring back at her - or at least, a photo of her taped to the front of the container. Loboto was just leaving these kid's brains out in the open?! "Dogen, that's not a toy! We need to get that back to camp!"
"Correction," Lili interjected, leaving Frazie to walk over and snatch the brain out of Dogen's hands. "Dogen and I need to get it back to camp. If this is just lying around, there may be more... and there's only one disguise, anyway. You go on ahead. We'll search around and take any we see back to Linda."
"Really? You're sure?" Frazie asked. "I thought you were gung-ho for more excitement."
"I am!" Lili protested. "But I think I've had enough to be content. Someone needs to make sure the other kids are alright, and it may as well be us. ...Though I can't promise I won't put a spider on Kitty's brain." She gave Frazie a reassuring grin. "Just punch Loboto twice as hard for my sake, alright?"
Frazie smiled right back, retrieving Linda's horn to toss her way. "I will, don't worry."
It was a shame to see her little helpers run off to go brain hunting - and something told her there may be more in the floors up above she needed to find herself - but they'd been humongous helps on their big asylum adventure. They'd more than proven they were capable Psychonauts in their own way. Now, it was time for the moment of truth.
Dressed in her kitschy new get-up, Frazie approached Crispin once more. The man gave her another look-over, though this time, he hummed with approval. "Shiny claw... coat... and that unmistakably goggle-eyed face. Good to see you again, sir. Looking especially diabolical today. Going up?"
The orderly stepped into the elevator, walking up to a panel on the far side... and leaned in close to start booping a code in with his nose. "There you are, sir. Primed and ready to go."
This was the first time Frazie noticed that his arms weren't just always crossed... they were bound together. "Why's an orderly in a straitjacket?" she asked, stepping around him into the lift.
Crispin went to respond... then froze. He glared at her, his narrow gaze growing even sharper. "Now wait just a bloody second... my eyes may not work, but my ears do, miss girly voice!"
Oops.
In an instant, the man rounded on her, snarling. On one hand, she wasn't too threatened by a short, restrained man. On the other, he was completely immune to her psychic powers, and who knew what he was willing to do to defend his boss?
Fortunately, she never had to find out. Right as he was about to step into the elevator with her, Fred suddenly slid between the two. "Oooooh, no you don't! I've been waiting a long time for this, Whytehead!" Fred flexed his surprisingly stubby arms, vengeance in his eyes. "It's strangling time!"
As relieved as Frazie was, she couldn't help but find it a little over the top. "Eh? I know he's a jerk, but isn't wringing his neck a bit much?"
"He took my job after turning me into that broken mess! He's not the orderly, I am!"
"Oh." Frazie peeked around him at Crispin, then shrugged. "Go right ahead, then."
Crispin was suddenly a lot less cocky with a furious Bonaparte stepping towards him. "N-now, now, I was just making sure everyone was taken care of while you were indisposed! Surely we can talk this out! ...P-perhaps over a game of Waterloo-o?"
"Over your dead body!"
Negotiations unsuccessful. Time for plan B. "Ngyaaaaaaaah!" Crispin turned and fled, Fred hot on his heels - and rapidly gaining thanks to his muuuch longer legs.
Frazie shook her head, watching them go while she dropped her disguise. She didn't feel too bad for the guy - besides, Fred wouldn't actually kill him. Probably. Hopefully.
With the way upward open at last, Frazie pulled the lever that shut the doors and got the lift moving. With a sudden jerk, it began to rise, taking her higher and higher.
Finally, she could get moving again. Climbing the rest of Thorney Towers would be no easy feat, and she had to keep an eye out for stray brains, but she was one step closer to putting a stop to Coach's crazy scheme.
If only she knew the upper reaches of the asylum were just as 'abandoned' as the first floor.
Hoooo, that was my longest chapter in awhile... and also my longest one, period. It's part of the reason this chapter took awhile, alongside having to gather votes and having a generally busy time overall. Hope it satisfied!
Now then... I've already got things planned out for a good while so hopefully the next chapter won't take too long, but things are still gonna be a bit hectic for me. Look forward to it, though! I've got big plans.
Also, while I did follow canon closely, I did throw in a couple small things this chapter:
-I found a really neat detail in the Lo-pi doc for Boyd that I decided to incorporate... apparently, he was a beloved only child until his scout leader mother remarried another man and poor Boyd ended up lost amidst 14 new siblings. It's implied his conspiracy theories are born from an attempt to explain this injustice/add some excitement to a newly dull life, and also directly connects him to the Rainbow Squirts that Coach instilled in his mind. I liked the explanation, so I gave it a small shout-out in the form of the picture Frazie finds at the beginning of his section... said picture being Sandr's idea.
-I added in some sort of activation for the elevator to keep Frazie and the kids from, you know, just beating the crap out of Crispin and moving on. It might actually be implied that something like this exists, just wasn't touched on - ingame, Crispin does mention it saves him some trouble when Raz steps into the elevator alone, insinuating he would have to do something to get it running himself otherwise. Or maybe he just rides along with Loboto to keep him company. I dunno. It's vague.
