Author’s Note: This is my attempt to make 6b what I wanted it to be – a celebration of my favorite in-show couple – leading up to the wedding – and to fix a few other things along the way. The divergence begins in “Murder Most Foul”, where there was no snooping, no ring-finding, and no Killian killing Charming’s father in a meaningless and out of character encounter. There was a fight; however, it was about something altogether different.
This chapter follows most of “A Wondrous Place,” with additions and changes. Thank you @ripplestitchskein for the speedy and excellent beta!
It was a stupid fight to begin with. The enormity of her mistake hit Emma as soon as the door closed behind Killian. The house lights flickered with the surge of emotion. Minutes passed while she fought herself. When the danger had passed, she stood for another moment leaning against the door, shaking.
“Son of a bitch.”
Emma pushed herself upright, grabbed her coat from the hook and went after him. Damp and bitter cold struck her, and the snow fell thickly. She could already barely see his footprints on the sidewalk, but Emma didn’t have to be a good tracker to know where Killian would have gone. She set out after him at a near-run.
By the time Emma caught up they were at the waterfront, and she was half-soaked from slipping in the snow and falling on her ass.
Second installment of the Jasper Hale imagine series “Let It Pour,” requested by anon. “Hi there (: okay, do you think you can continue the Jasper imagine Let it Pour? Your wrote it months ago, but I just came across your blog and the way you ended it was amazing, you’re very talented. I just want to see how Jasper & y/n rekindle: he’d avoid her at 1st, she’s strong so she tries to move on,not onto someone else but emotionally(angst here), but eventually they come back to each other (end w/ fluff). Please and thank you (:” Hope you like it!
It was as if he had never crossed paths with you, never set foot on the dampened earth that coated the town of Forks like a carpet of waterlogged velvet. His presence had been eradicated completely from all but your memory. His family still attended school, though now without their brother by their side, the lot of them pointedly ignoring you as if you were nothing more than a shadow in the halls. Only Alice, whose eyes you caught on more occasions than one, paid you any mind; she was watching, always, though most of the time she averted her gaze faster than you could comprehend, but her stare was as searing as her silence was frigid. You couldn’t help but wonder if Jasper was having her keep an eye on you, or if perhaps her attentiveness was merely due to your presence fading in and out of her visions as both Jasper and yourself thought and retracted the thought of rekindling what had been tarnished to the point of dilapidation beneath the torrential fall of rain. Perhaps it was hopeless, allowing yourself to entertain the idea that so absent a figure in your life could be plagued by thoughts of your face, your name… but you couldn’t help imagining a man who had claimed he loved you just as much, if not more, than you loved him experiencing some degree of pain due to your separation. Lord knows it was borderline agonizing for you. You tried not to dwell on the thought of him, the halo of golden hair that shrouded so perfect a face, the honey of his eyes, the burning of his voice, the fire in his icy touch… no, it was best if you locked his memory in a vault. He clearly had no intention of returning. Maybe, just maybe, you’d be so lucky as to see him sometime after your ninetieth birthday, when he thought you were long dead and made his return to Forks. For now, you allowed yourself the thought of him racing through the trees of some dense forest, far enough away from human civilization that he could be completely free.
Your hand had fully healed, thanks to the attentions of a certain Carlisle Cullen, leaving the whisper of a scar left in the crease of your palm. You were sure the shining pink that now puckered your skin would fade, too, but until that time it would serve as a constant reminder of the simple mistake that had cost you something wonderful. Images of his inky silhouette straining against the glow of evening as it seeped through your window haunted your dreams; the tension held in his muscles was painful to witness, the hardness of his clenched jaw so rigid it was immobile. He spoke your name, and each night you ran to his side, watching portraits flash before your eyes with a patient sort of hysteria… his face resting gently against a bed of moss, streaked by the fall of rain, his smile growing wider as he reached for your hand in the halls of Forks High, his skin shimmering beneath the forgiving rays of sunlight, his lips pursed as he tampered with your fear from afar when you found yourself facing the truth of his immortality. You drank his features like sugared milk, retaining as much of him as you could bear as you fought the leaden darkness swarming your limbs to slow your pursuit, your fingertips outstretched to touch his shoulder… and he was gone. You woke each night in an empty bedroom, your hand falling absentmindedly to the divot he had created in your mattress, foolishly expecting to find his chest awaiting your touch. If it wasn’t his face, it was his temperature you found yourself missing; you were always feverish at nights, or struck with a sudden flash of heat, only you were now left without remedy. He was a ghost wandering the vacant halls of your memory, proving himself impossible to forget.
It was injury enough that he had taken the liberty to erase himself from your life, but worse a wound when, weeks later, he finally returned to school. It was as if your heart had stopped in your chest, finally as still and as silent as his own, when you saw the familiar width of his back straining against the tightness of his shirt. The glorious waves of his hair hung like loose threads of spun gold, suspending diamonds of fallen rain as effortlessly as ever, holding the gems of a storm like an embroidered bodice. You were frozen where you stood, your backpack weighing heavily on your shoulder, your hands limp at your side. He, too, was still; he remained unmoving as Alice’s eyes fell, unmet, upon your face, her hands attempting to guide him further down the hallway. You knew enough about his condition to understand that he could smell you, and therefore knew you were present. Hell, he could’ve smelled you a mile away… and yet he proceeded, somewhat rigidly, down the hall, increasing the distance between you, without once turning to meet your eye. You burnt a hole in the back of his head with your stare, watching him abandon you without so much as a second thought. You held yourself upright by some miracle of gravity, your body sapped of all energy, your limbs lifelessly numb as the world passed you by, your eyes following the glow of his hair as he waltzed away from you. You realized now how generous he had been to disappear; it was far worse to have him here… to have him here and not here all at once, to watch his sister lead him away from the risk of reconciliation, her fingers claw-like as they pierced the muscles of his forearm, ushering him away from one outcome or another that she had foreseen. You knew her intentions were goodhearted, but you had never felt more betrayed than in that moment. You hung, suspended in the air, until the bell rang and pulled you from your trance.
That afternoon, you stepped into the rain with full intent to drown yourself in the downpour. You didn’t care enough to shield your hair with a hood, nor your body with an umbrella, as you pushed through the doors separating the safety of the school from the hellish storm beyond the walls. You were among the first to rush from your classroom, though your movements were far less vibrant than your classmate counterparts. You moved like the dead, swift despite your numbness, eager to escape the social confines that made it impossible to cry freely without suffering the judgement of others. You longed for the serenity of your home, the quiet of your bedroom, the calm of an environment you knew would keep the spilling of your emotions a secret. Walls couldn’t talk. Students, on the other hand… well, there wasn’t much else the average high schooler was universally good at. You trudged through the sheets of icy rain towards the promised warmth of your car, your hair sticking in strands to your cheeks by the time you reached the driver’s side door. You slid behind the wheel, your brain on autopilot, fighting back the burning image of his back as it bit at the vault door you were so desperate to spin shut. All you cared to do was survive the drive home through the Friday rush of reckless drivers and lose yourself in the unattached surrender of sleep. You drove with practiced precision, peering almost unfeelingly through the falling rain until you pulled into your driveway, proceeding to enter your home without so much as an absent thought. You were off, it seemed, moving and breathing with just the basics to survive, your cheeks burning with the pressure of your mind scorching against the wall you had erected. No, you wouldn’t spare him any tears. You wouldn’t spare him a single sliver of your mind. You flooded your brain with void blankness, pulling your comforter back before throwing yourself in all your rain-slick glory onto the cushioned comfort of your mattress, steering clear of his side of the bed as you pulled the cotton canopy over your head. Your mind was good to you. Merciful, even. You slept easily.
Your dream was tainted by the events of the day. His silhouette was turned away from you, shielding the heavenly image of his face, your feet carrying you as desperately as ever toward an uncaring, guarded figure cut from the darkness by the dull glow of his diamond flesh. You whisked away the images of his smile, the echo of his laughter, your brow furrowed with determination as you raced, unhindered, to his back. Your hand grasped his shoulder, thrilling at the contact, spinning him to face you, his golden eyes burning with shock, his adoration unhindered by the surprise that painted his features. Your palm cradled his cheek, the ice of his skin melting effortlessly into the fabric of your subconscious, watching his parted lips sigh into the ghost of a smile. His shoulders angled toward your body as your dream snapped unceremoniously to the evening of your waking reality. You sat bolt-upright, disoriented by the passing of time, your eyes falling quickly on the figure that was perched on the ledge of your windowsill, his body freezing to see you waking so soon. He was exactly as you remembered him; of course he had remained unchanged, but it was more than the flawless resistance of time that struck you as familiar… he was rigid, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes locked painfully on your own. You exhaled quickly, the wind forced from your lungs by the sheer surprise of his presence, both of you remaining unchanged outside of your frozen astonishment for an endless minute. He had not parted his lips to speak, but the manner in which he held himself suggested he had fully intended to explain himself. Then, with your next inhale, he was upon you, moving with impatient and inhuman speed to mold his body to yours, his palms guiding your lips to his with the ease of familiarity. The floodgates burst, and the river roared in.
His lips crushed against yours with a passionate fervor you had never witnessed in the man, his hands moving to your waist to cement your body to his own, all but pulling you from your bed as he lavished your mouth with his. His fingers tangled in the silk of your hair, his thumb caressing the curvature of your cheekbone as he breathlessly mobilized his apology. Your hands closed easily at the back of his neck, all but clawing his skin as you forced yourself ever closer to him, running your palms along the broadness of his back, clinging breathlessly to his shoulders as his tongue traced the curve of your lower lip. He finally pulled himself away, separating briefly before resting his forehead against your own, his hands on your cheeks once more. He shook his head, visibly torn by the anguish that so obviously ravaged his body, his ragged inhales moving against your beating heart. You breathed in the luxury of his scent, your eyes absorbing every minute detail of his body, the vault door blown from its hinges as you matched every aspect of him to the memories you had suppressed. He exhaled raggedly, his eyes burning brightly as they met your own, the gold of his irises molten with adoration.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he breathed, his voice breaking under the weight of his guilt, no more than a whisper in the darkness, his pained features illuminated only by the moonlight streaming in through your window. “I’m so sorry, Y/n. I can’t believe I-” He choked on his apologies, his thumbs working over your jaw, his lips finding yours once more, his urgency bleeding through his skin and into yours, your hands spreading smoothly over the hardened expanse of his chest. He caught your hand as it rose along the center of his chest, stopping your movement as your fingertips kissed the angled neckline of his sweater, holding your palm over his unbeating heart. He moved from your lips, then, his eyes dropping to your palm, his fingers turning your hand in the darkness as he searched for the remnants of your minor injury. After determining that you were fully repaired, he lifted your palm to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to the thin layer of scarring that remained, your skin electric under the softness of his lips. His eyes met yours as he tipped his face downward, inhaling deeply at your wrist before lowering your hand between your bodies. He sighed then, as if emptying himself of sorrow, releasing freely into the bliss of the moment. “I’m sorry I left you,” he whispered, his tone grounded with the power his volume lacked, compensating with resonance rather than expose his presence to your sleeping parents. “I thought, stupidly, that staying away from you would prevent what almost happened in the woods from happening, more severely, in the future. I couldn’t bear the thought… if I had been any slower, any less on guard, what might have happened to you… I realize now how selfish that was, to remove myself without any regard to your emotions, to leave you stranded in the aftermath, to trust my own judgement over anyone else’s, especially yours… and despite how selfish it is for me to be here now… I can’t stay away from you any longer. You can’t imagine… or maybe you can, how much I missed you. I can hardly bear to think about leaving you again come morning… that is, if you’ll have me.” You pressed your lips to his, both of you moving as one, your thoughts aligning exactly as if you had never been parted. You spoke, your lips a breath away from his, your mind clearing like inky clouds after a rainstorm.
“I can’t believe you thought I’d let you leave in the morning,” you whispered, his smile stopping your heart in your chest as he spun you in his arms, his lips peppering your exposed skin with elated kisses, his joy clear in his breathless, suppressed laughter.
“I’m here until you send me away,” he grinned, his eyes alight with glee. “I love you,” he breathed, his words ringing with the passion of an oath, the fortitude of a vow, his voice painfully tender. His arms wound around your waist, holding you strongly and softly to his chest, his lips in your hair as you melted in his embrace, listening to the sound of raindrops striking your window as the day’s storm opened once more, washing the world of misery beyond the glass, Jasper’s hands smoothing over your back as you watched the trickling of rain bleed into a downpour.
Sasha’s delusion is appealing to all his childhood memories, rather than his nightmares. There’s a HUGE emphasis on his childhood in his mind. Both his memory vaults have to do with him having a generally bad time as a kid, and the first part of his mind is his bed with some toy blocks. The rest of the mind continues with the shoe shop theme.
There’s nothing that’s actually going to turn out “bad” about Sasha’s delusion. Rather, it’s only there to keep him distracted while the fish people do what they need to do with Truman. What better to distract him with then give him all the childhood fun he could’ve had?
He looks pretty darn excited (even if he does regain his composure pretty quickly) for someone who emphasizes keeping a fair amount of control on his emotions.
The entirety of the room (especially the aliens) looks like a kiddy sci-fi spaceship for someone to play around on, it wouldn’t surprise me if Sasha gave into the temptation of having a fun time for once. Plus those aliens look pretty cute i would give them a hug
So the Rhombus of Ruin isn’t made to give everyone’s worst nightmare to everyone, the reason the “Ruin” part is there is because of the number of ships and planes that disappear there. Sasha is simply kept at bay with what would keep him at bay- He would express control over his fear when in a nightmarish situation, but the exact opposite wouldn’t bring any need for alarm. Besides, if he’s always wanted a fun childhood, why run?
There’s probably a lot of other influence coming from the Rhombus of Ruin itself that would make him give in, but I feel like this would be a pretty good “trap” on its own.
I am sure this kind of thing has been done before, but I wanted to try it out anyway.
Starting on Friday, May 5th, this official questionnaire will begin! If you don’t know how this works, basically starting from the 5th of May, you will be answering each question I post per day, and you just add #30daypsychonautschallenge as one of your taglines to your post so others could see it, including myself :) Simple as that.
Now, I will move on to the questions you will be answering, and then the rules right after!
1. Favorite character?
2. Least favorite character?
3. Favorite level?
4. Favorite music?
5. Favorite camper? (Discarding Lili and Raz.)
6. Favorite asylum inmate?
7. Favorite enemy?
8. What moment/s made you feel emotional?
9. What are the funniest moments? (This game is filled with them, so go crazy and add as much as you want! … Or in this case, go “psycho” *does Raz’s dorky laugh*
10. Favorite battle?
11. Best quotes (same rule applies for #9.)
12. OTP? (One True Pairing.)
13. Favorite power?
14. Favorite outfit?
15. Favorite friendship?
16. Favorite camp counsellor?
17. Beautiful moment?
18. Inspiring moment?
19. Scariest moment?
20. Do you own any merchandise of the game?
21. Your persona? (Person you strongly relate to)
22. Guilty pleasure character?
23. Favorite dog artist in Black Velvetopia?
24. Favorite animal wrestler?
25. Favorite memory vault?
26. Cutest moment?
27. What character would you play as besides Raz if you had the choice?
28. Most annoying enemy?
29. How did you get into Psychonauts?
30. What are the things you want to see most in Psychonauts 2?
1. If you can’t choose just ONE answer for certain questions, feel free to list more than one!
2. I would prefer it if you go into specific reasoning for your answers, especially for the ones involving characters. Doesn’t have to be an essay or anything! It could just be a sentence for all I care.
3. Let’s say you put Raz as your favorite character, and one of the reasons why is because you can apparently relate to him. I prefer it if you saved the relating details for #21.
4. Ex: If you put Dr. Loboto already as your favorite character, don’t put him again for favorite inmate, but instead your second choice. Same goes for campers.
5. When I say “favorite enemy” this isn’t referring to Oleander or Loboto, but rather the ones you face in people’s minds like the Censors, wrestlers, Den Mother, etc.
6. If you REALLY don’t have a second favorite for campers, inmates, or camp counsellors, then it’s perfectly ok to put a character you already put before from a previous answer.
7. This is a questionnaire for both Psychonauts AND Rhombus of Ruin combined.
8. Beautiful moment could be something like a touching scene or just visually impressive. Up to you.
“If you want to find the secrets of the universe, think in terms of energy, frequency and vibration.”
As we move beyond the spiritual Age of Pisces into the secular Age of
Aquarius, the world’s frequencies shift in gear and spray a new
vibration to which human consciousness can experience and align with. As
we enter the age of individualisation, technology, science, and the 5th dimension
of love and creativity, children of the Water Bearer Aquarius emit the
frequencies of the New Age. Aquarian people are vessels that provide new and innovative divine information for progression. Such individuals
born under Aquarius experience the ultimate gamut of the intuition and
sorcery granted by the Aquarian Age - telepathy, clairvoyance,
the art of mass influence, and the electric psychic energies of
their ruler, Uranus. Deliriums and hallucinations are considered
pathology, but only from the realms of scientific reality. Aquarius
symbolizes a sign where material is merged with meaning; and so
clairvoyance, telepathy and dreaming become guiding forces. This is
especially aligning with the energies of the Aquarian Age.
The nerve endings of Aquarians are the electrically charged sixth sense into the words, needs, and feelings of others. The Aquarian Age
indicates the fulfilment of 5th Dimensional communities and the
ascension to the 5th Dimension of love and creativity, and this is an
intrinsic quality and flair in the Aquarius archetype. Like the Aquarius,
the corresponding Age is set to overturn known social convention and
breathe fresh air into the mundane and outdated. Electric Aquarians will
send shockwaves through the world’s holy water and arouse all sorts of
spiritual friction, high voltage and drastic changes and possess a
hypnotic influence over the collective mass consciousness. The sign of
Aquarius is at home in this Age, and it is truly time for the Air
intelligence to shine and realign the world with their progressive
virtue, rampant intellectualisation and belief in unconditional
equality. They are already well informed and visionary when
it comes to the themes and energies of the Aquarian Age. The
promotion of the free, the radical and the reformist will streak through
all known societal structures.
The Aquarian frequency is low, cool and refreshing. This is much
like the breath of fresh air orchestrated by the divine for our planet
during this New Age. As Jesus waits in the home of Aquarius, the eleventh house, the Water Bearer nourishes humanity with new insights,
expansion and the promise of finding a peace that is truly
individualised. Jesus will return, but he will return within us, and Aquarius is the mirror of this phenomenon. The key themes around the Aquarian incarnation including
self actualization and individualisation will be echoed as an intrinsic
development of each and every soul, as the patriarchy of
religion and government slips away from grip. Traditionally in
Astrology, the sign of Aquarius is understood to associate with heavenly
or esoteric energies, and was introduced in Atlantis alongside its
neighbour sign, Pisces. Here the water of Aquarius is baptising the new
world, sensing our connectedness and responsibility for,
the future of humanity. Humanitarian issues like asylum seekers, poverty
freedom of movement, speech, thought and association are all concerns
to which the Aquarian and its Age intend to align with justice.
Aquarians hold their memory of the starry vault of heaven and cosmos
from which we emerge, and lure or souls to return to these worlds and
return to play with the galaxies far away.
So today marks the begining of the #30daypsychonautschallenge !! As a huge fan of this game, I knew I had to do this as soon as I saw it. If you want to do it yourself, here’s the original post by @psychonaut-hobbit ! Now onto the question… :^)
1. Favorite Character?
Oh boy! Thanks for starting on an easy question! If you can’t tell by my blog or the little banner I made for this, it’s gotta be Sasha Nein. I’m always a sucker for well-dressed men with polite attitudes…and accents. Just look at him.
I absolutely adore him, okay. When I first played Psychonauts, I lovingly reffered to him as “Frankenstein” because I didn’t catch his name. (For a while, I thought Milla’s name was Sasha…) I also thought he was Russian until I went to the GPC haha.
What I love about Sasha, besides literally everything, is his relationships with Raz and the counsellors. Sasha seems to think of Razputin as a miniature version of himself, which I think is great. I like to think of Sasha as a father figure for Raz, especially since Raz is a huge fanboy for the Psychonauts, I’m sure he’d admire Sasha as ‘the father he never had’.
The dynamic between Sasha and Milla is incredibly strong, (I say this as if nobody knows this) and good God I just want them to kiss already? The tension is killing all of us, especially after those moments in the Rhombus of Ruin… :^)))) I scream over these two a lot. I love that Sasha holds high respect for Milla, even though she has her own quirks. Such a gentleman.
His backstory was incredibly strong for me, and cracking open his Memory Vaults was an experience for me honestly. The game does such a great job of portraying small scenes and ideas in one reel, but also giving it the emotion needed, and I really did feel for Sasha and his father. It’s upsetting to me that he never really remembered much of his mother. I can highly relate to what he went through, but I’ll get to that in a few days time. I’d like to add here, that his level design was really cool! It brought out his personality and his mental problems well, and I kind of hope we’ll be seeing it again.
I’ve already mentioned his personality before, but I’d like to reiterate it again since it’s one of my favorite things about his character. Even though he’s incredibly blunt with the poor children, he is very understanding and even kind at points. In the Rhombus of Ruin, it’s interesting to note that Milla seems to be the one to calm him down and lets him be more understanding with children, yet another thing I love about their dynamic, but talk more about that later on. :^)
And finally, let’s be real, what a lovely design.
Well, that concludes my first entry for this challenge!! I hope it wasn’t too boring to listen to me rant on about my husband favorite character, over here. I’m excited to do the rest of the questions! <33
So as everyone who has played Psychonauts knows, Raz was a part of a family circus act. In his memory vault, you can see that he was four siblings, two older and two younger. Along with him, his dad, and his mom that makes seven family members. Which you can clearly see in this picture.
However, when you look at the Aquato’s poster in the level Meat Circus, there are not seven members. Instead, there are eight acrobats shown in the poster.
Anyone who has been keeping up with the progress of Psychonauts 2 knows that the story of the upcoming sequel will have a focus on Raz’s family and the curse placed on them. So, either this poster was the result of art direction error. Or there used to be another member of the Aquato family and this will possibly be addressed in the sequel. Either way, I just wanted to show off what I found.
Day 8. What moment/s made you feel emotional?
UPDATED WITH ACTUAL EFFORT.
Things about Psychonauts in general make me emotional. To be quick about it I could have put “Everything in the backer updates for Psychonauts 2 so far” as I usually end up wiping tears from my eyes like a big softie. But that would be too easy So to pinpoint some particulars was tough but what I came down to was essentially: Milla and Loboto’s pasts.
Milla as a whole is so beautiful. She’s sweet and kind and from the get go I liked her. I stumbled upon her demons in my first play through (somehow) and my god… that took a turn. It’s such a stark contrast to the rest of her level that you legitimately feel like you’ve found something you shouldn’t see. The accompanying memory vault about what happened to the children at the hospital and the last slide of her screaming. I can’t even begin to properly convey how gut punched I felt. Poor Milla.
More recently I was beyond elated to see the “Good Doctor” return in Rhombus of Ruin and honestly I was SUPER disappointed in how he was neglected in the first game so to actually go into his mind and see what set the wheels in motion to make him who he became, was… I don’t know. It was the special kind of moment that I’ve come to admire in Tim and the entire Double Fine team. The way the story was told via dolls (who move so creepy .. spider like almost) and somehow it was heartbreaking and terrifying and funny all at the same time. It was sheer perfection in my opinion. That’s why I needle felted Maboto and Paboto (as I affectionately call them) because it shook me. I already knew I loved Caligosto but this just was the final nail in the coffin. And really my heart broke for him, and I wondered “So… what’s he going to be like now?” and I could not be happier with the “well… he’s pretty much exactly the same as it turns out” answer. I laughed my ass off.
there are a massive amount of emotional things in psychonauts (and I’m not just talking about the baggage) but most of them are handled with memory reels, those are good at telling a story but they are very short and that’s where the most emotional events happen. RoR on the other hand had this scene in the memory vault and I did not see it coming at all, the entire last part of that game was a real ride and the build up was really good.
The name Loboto made it clear what probably happened in the first game but seeing all this stuff in RoR… Well I might have cried a little bit.
GET READY FOR A LONG POST GUYS. This entire game was an emotional rollercoaster for me, I’d go from laughing hysterically one second to bawling my eyes out the next. No exaggeration, I’m very emotional when it comes to fiction. And good lord, there were a lot of moments that made me feel things.
First up, I’d like to mention the entirety of Gloria’s Theatre. Not only do the Memory Vaults provide her backstory, the Stage Actors also act out various pieces of Gloria’s life. The parts where it’s revealed that Gloria’s mother was forced to give up Gloria to Hagatha Home because of her mother’s boyfriend / agent made me feel so mad, she didn’t deserve this. One part that sticks out in my mind that I’ll never forget is the acting that goes along the lines of “do not leave me Gloria, or I will do something terrible to myself that will scar you emotionally”, foreshadowing the Vault with Gloria’s mother’s suicide. The fact that she couldn’t act anymore due to her mood swings thanks to her mother’s death makes me so sad. I seriously hope she’s a lot better now.
Next up, is Milla’s Children. I have a soft spot for orphanage stories, and I was really happy that Milla had such a great time with her children, but I certainly wasn’t expecting the orphanage to go up in flames when I flicked to the next slide. It really boosted my love for Milla and shows that even the happiest of people can be the saddest (just like Crystal and Clem). This plotline shows up again in the Rhombus of Ruin, which shows how much sorrow Milla must feel.
Sasha’s First Loss was the moment I knew I was in for some heavy stuff when playing this game. I feel for children who grow up not knowing one of their parents, and I’ll get to that in a few days. A death of someone close to you is a terrible thing to sustain… but Sasha was too young to remember her properly, which makes this whole situation a lot sadder for me. It also makes me emotional that Sasha’s dad probably didn’t raise him like a normal child, one with a loving family and who had tons of fun as a baby due to his depression. Maybe that’s why Sasha’s so closed off?
Of course, how can I not mention Lil’ Oly? I absolutely adore Coach Oleander, and seeing his childhood trauma made me both upset and angry. Upset for Lil’ Oly for having to witness the trauma of having a pet killed in front of you by your own father nonetheless and angry at Oly’s dad for doing so. Don’t raise your children to turn out the way you want. You might have been in the army and run a butcher shop, but your son might just want to hang around bunnies. This was the Vault I couldn’t muster to even make fun of in certain circumstances. My feelings for Lil’ Oly here are very strong.
Finally, I’d like to leave this on a positive note. The biggest part of the game to me, which made me tear up in happiness, was the moment Augustus made his way into Raz’s mind to help him with the mess he got himself into. Augustus seemed so upset to see Raz’s mental figure of him, and explained to Raz that he could never hate him, and that he loved him and wanted to protect him from anything that would harm Raz. Sometimes your family might do things that seem awful at the time, but they’ll often have their reasons, and when you do find out, your connection with them will grow, and who knows, you might be more alike than you think.
Normalcy. Repose. Comfort. Those were the three words that
Yoongi was always able to think of when he thought of you. Of course, there
were many more ways of describing you, some corny, some holding a much deeper
meaning but if he truly had to sum you up in as few of words as possible then
he knew that he would always be able to rely on two; best friend.
Since high school the two of you had been nearly inseparable,
always sitting with one another, studying for tests together, bailing each
other out of horrible dates, always prepared to be there for the other. For
Yoongi, in a world where things were often far from normal, you were the one
aspect that could bring him just that and comfort him. You weren’t like the
other girls who ogled over him and faked to be his friend just so they could
try and get together with him. You weren’t like the people who faked his
friendship to get a taste of popularity. Above all though you understood him
and never judged him; because it was you who he was truly able to feel like
himself around. The quirky side that some didn’t even know existed with him,
the deeply mood part of him that came out every now and then when darkness was
much more present than light in his life. You were there right by his side to
experience it all.
It was an earnest relationship, and all the feelings were
the same for you as well. Yoongi was your best friend, someone who had sent you
flowers after you’d gone through one of your worst heart breaks. He was
somebody who endlessly picked on you and teased you but would be there on the drop
of a dime if you were having an insecure day. Yoongi cared deeply for you, as
did you for him. But feelings never went past that. The conventional story of
best friends falling in love with each other just wasn’t the story that you two
You were happy for that though, as was he, because while the
idea of you both being more than friends was utterly humorous, the idea of losing
each other over something like that was unbearable.
While you both acknowledged that romance wasn’t part of your
future together, it didn’t stop people around you to mistake you for a couple.
Honestly, to any outsider it really did appear that you two were dating. The
lunch dates, you hooking your arm in his while walking down the street, the way
you two comfortably bickered with each other; it was all extremely couple-like.
After years of being asked if you were dating though or being ‘awed’ over, it
had also become something that didn’t faze you. Friendships this strong weren’t
easily shook. It took large fights to disturb the comfort that you two shared,
and they surely didn’t happen quite often.
This particular day was filled with all sorts of plans with
one another. Yoongi needed help picking out some furniture for the office in
the new apartment he’d gotten, and then on the flip side you needed to stock up
on some art supplies. You’d agreed he’d come to your place and pick you up,
running your errands and then ending the day with a late lunch. Waking up that
morning however, something wasn’t right.
You didn’t wake up peacefully on your own like you usually
did, instead being startled awake, a deep ache between your legs and a sheen of
sweat glistening across your forehead. Your respirations were deep and heaving,
pupils dilated and mind feeling like complete fuzz. It wasn’t often that you
startled yourself awake with a wet dream, but they surely happened every now
and then. Usually it was over which ever celebrity you had been lusting over,
and occasionally the extremely sexy professor that you had for your modern art
lectures, but this…this was different. This dream hadn’t been any of those men.
It hadn’t been the imagined chiseled chest of an older professor, or the
sparkling and gleaming face of a rising star. It had been the dark eyes and
dark hair that belonged to none other than your best friend; Min Yoongi.
“What the actual fuck?” you groaned as you kicked the
blankets from off your body, mind buzzing and completely unable to comprehend
what had just happened. Yoongi had definitely been the main appearance in your
dream, his hair having been sweaty and pushed aside, body missing a shirt as
well as pants, having been standing there in nothing but his briefs. He’d been…panting…hand
raking through his hair, some strange look in his eyes. Letting out a frustrated
yell you covered your face with your hands and rolled around in the bed, unable
to stop the images that kept flooding into your head. He hadn’t been naked at
least, which you hoped was a blessing, but it still didn’t help the fact that
you had had a total wet dream about your best friend.
Hoping out of the bed you hurried to the bathroom and
decided that a hot shower would help clear things away. Within the next hour,
you were just about ready when you heard your front door open and slam. You
didn’t give it much thought knowing exactly who it was, groaning when you
immediately saw a flash of your dream again by simply thinking of him.
“Yah! Are you not ready yet? Hurry up or we’ll be doing this
all day,” Yoongi called through your bedroom door, giving the wood a swift kick
to get his point across even more before turning and walking back down the
hallway to help himself to your coffee.
Looking into the mirror at yourself you bit your lip hard
and tried to dispel every strange thought. Yoongi was your best friend, nothing
more. You weren’t going to let some stupid dream get in the way of that and you
sure as hell weren’t going to say anything to him about it.
“I’m coming!’ you called grabbing your jacket and meeting
him in the kitchen.
The day went by relatively fast, and you were thankful that
furniture shopping and art supplies shopping held the majority of our
attention, preventing your eyes from wondering over to Yoongi and allowing that
damn dream to leave your memory vaults. By the time you both were finished and
were making your way down the sidewalk towards your favorite restaurant you
thought that maybe you had nothing more to worry about. As you sat seated
across from Yoongi though, the later looking meticulously over this menu you
realized that you had been filled with nothing but false hope.
Having already decided what you wanted, you found your eyes
circulating to the boy in front of you, lip finding its way between your teeth
as you looked him over. Why in the hell had he been in your dream? You weren’t
even that attracted to him. You’d seen him shirtless plenty of times, had even
seen him in his underwear…but you hadn’t seen him naked. But why did that
matter? It’s not like you wanted to…and it wasn’t like he had been in that
dream. But why were you suddenly so curious about it?
“Do I have something on my face or something?”
Yoongi’s question startled you slightly, eyes refocusing and
looking into his, realizing that you been completely staring at him. “Oh, uh
no, sorry I was just thinking about something,” you say waving your hand at him
as if to wave it off.
Yoongi simply rose his eyebrows at you, still curious but
deciding to drop it. All day while you had been shopping there hadn’t been much
time for light conversation, having been discussing the things you were buying
but now as you sat there you suddenly felt like you didn’t have much to say. Plus,
it was hard to concentrate on much when you desperately were trying to keep
that damn dream to yourself. As much as you wanted to keep it from him, and hide
the embarrassment of it all, it was actually quite a struggle not to speak to
him about it. You two shared everything with one another, from the type of lip
balm you both liked, to your guys’ sex lives. There was no hiding in this relationship
and the fact that you now had something you felt you couldn’t share with him made
you more uncomfortable.
Yoongi, a generally quiet person, was probably one of the
most receptive people you knew. So, while you sat across from him and thought
you were doing somewhat decent job of staying quiet, he could tell immediately
that something was up. The way you kept shifting, the way you wouldn’t look at
him for more than a few seconds…the blush on your face. He knew you were hiding
something. Lord knows you weren’t great at keeping secrets especially with him.
He was curious what was going on but didn’t want to ruin lunch so he upheld the
majority of the conversation and decided he’d ask you later once he returned
Eating in silence, Yoongi took care of the bill when you
were done and got up walking next to you as you made it outside. Like he
usually did he offered you his arm and was quite surprised when you didn’t take
it in return.
“You okay today?” he asked, a little startled that you had
refused something that you both generally did so comfortably.
“Yoongi I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep well,” you say, feeling
like the statement had a partial truth to it.
“Hmmm…I don’t believe you,” he stated, continuing to walk at
a normal speed in the direction of your apartment.
“What? Why?” you asked giving him a weird look, arms
“Well first of all, you usually don’t shut up when we go out
for lunch,” he said making you glare at him. “Also, when things are bothering
you, you usually always tell me, or at least say that you don’t want to talk
about it in public and that we’ll talk later.
“How do you know something is bothering me?” you challenged.
“Because you were making that face you make when you’re
thinking hard about something. And you usually don’t think very hard unless it’s
something major,” keeping his normal teasing in the conversation. Giving him an
insulted look you playfully push him and shake your head. The boy really did
know you too well.
“I really…really don’t want to talk about it,” you say,
looking away and refusing to meet his gaze again.
“So, then the problem is with me?” he asked, knowing that
that had to be the only reason that you wouldn’t share it with him. “Did I do
something to upset you?” he asked, unable to think of anything himself, but
hoping that you’ll stop this little secret game and just be open with him. “C’mon,
you and I both know that we hate when the other is like this. Lord knows I’ve
heard plenty of bad things come from you, what’ so bad about this time?”
Letting out a sigh you rolled your shoulders, frustrated
with how right he always seemed to be. “It’s just…if I tell you, you can’t make
fun of me okay?” you say looking back at him, earning a nod from him.
At this point you two were already in front of your
apartment, so typing in the passcode you make your way into the building and up
to your apartment. Once inside you drop off all the things you bought in your
own office and then slowly retreat back to the living where Yoongi is sitting
on the couch clearly waiting for you.
“Spill it,” he says as you sit down next to him, shifting so
that you’re fully facing him now, ready to face this head on.
“I had a dream about you.”
“A dream?” he asked, not understanding where this is going
or able to figure out why a dream had made you act so differently.
“A wet dream.”
The silence that ensues after this sentence makes you
fidget. Watching his face, you don’t see any clear emotion on it. He didn’t look
too shocked, but then again, he wasn’t giving away any sort of emotion right
now. Getting ready to say more, maybe even take it back and make up some sort
of lie, he bursts into a laugh. The sudden presence of his gummy smile and the high-pitched
tone of his laugh washes you in absolute relief, a small sigh leaving your lips
before you shake your head at him and smack him.
“Stop! You said you wouldn’t laugh!” but at this point your laughing
too, and in all honesty, you feel stupid for having been so caught up in all of
this. You should have told him the moment he got there this morning.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe that this is what has been
bothering you. You’re so gross [Y/N],” he says, wiping away a tear from his
eyes. “Oh god,” he says before busting up into another intense round of
laughing, holding his stomach as he collapses forward on the couch.
It takes a while but when he’s finally calmed down, it’s just
the two of you looking at each other, faces flushed from pure entertainment but
finally you were feeling comfortable again.
“Clearly it was more of a nightmare though,” you say, chuckling
when Yoongi rolls his eye.
“Please, you should feel honored that I was in your dreams
in that way.”
“That’s the thing though. It was…a wet dream, but you weren’t
naked in it. You still had boxer pants on. That’s why I was staring at you in
the restaurant…because I was just…wondering,” you saying, your sentence leading
off multiple times, a snort leaving Yoongi again.
“Oh my god you were picturing me naked?’
Letting out an embarrassed yell you cover your face again,
reaching your foot out and shoving him back with it, unable to handle this
“[Y/N] if you were curious all you had to do was ask,” he
teased as he suddenly stood up and pulled off his shirt. Letting out an embarrassed
yell you try to turn away and hide but Yoongi simply keeps going. You could hear
him undo his belt and at this point you can’t help but curiously turn back,
grabbing one of the pillows on your couch and hiding behind it, peaking from
“Stop acting shy, we’re best friends. What’s the big deal?”
he says as he drops his pants, leaving him in his boxer pants right in front of
you. Still hiding though, you look back up to his eyes, waiting to see what
will happen next. Yoongi, amazingly still unfazed gives you one last eye roll
before suddenly pulling down his boxer shorts, leaving him in all his glory in
front of you. Your eyes widen, staring at your completely bare best friend. How
many stories had he shared with you about the girls he’d been with. Endless
times crossing boundaries and shocking you because this boy always came off so
damn quiet and reserved. Yet here you were, being completely shocked again.
Slowly feeling the embarrassment wash away you move the pillow aside and sit
still, looking at him head to toe before lifting your hand and twirling your
pointer finger in a circle.
Tossing his head back, Yoongi chuckles before slowly
spinning in a circle, allowing you to see a full 360 before stopping in front
of you again. “Not bad,” you finally say. “I’ve seen better though,” you say
laughing as his signature insulted face appears.
“Excuse you, I don’t think you know what you’re talking
about.” He says before pulling his boxers shorts up and sitting back down. It
takes a moment to realize, but you notice that in no way do you feel like you
had that morning. Yoongi’s body does literally nothing for you, your heart beat
only going fast because of the residual embarrassment. Other than that, this
feels like a completely normal day for the tow of you.
“So, what about you?”
“Huh?” you say turning and looking at him.
“Isn’t it my turn? You strip now.”
The next moment Yoongi gets a face full of the pillow you
had once been hiding behind.
“In your dreams, Min Yoongi,” you say before standing and
heading to your office, laughing as you hear his complaints of how unfair you
After that day Yoongi wasn’t totally sure if he could use
normalcy to explain your relationship anymore, but no matter what happened, ’best
friend’ were still the only two words that shone with the most truth.
So I was going through the psychonauts tag out of boredom and came across that post about how raz's family had 7 people in the memory vault flashback but 8 people on a poster at the end of the game, and I noticed something important I've never seen anyone else point out: all of raz's siblings seem to be sets of TWINS. Namely, fraternal brother/sister sets. Does this mean Raz could have a twin sister? Where is she??? Raz would worry about her if she were hurt/missing, so why isn't she around?
Interesting! That COULD be a mistake, and Raz could reasonably be the one child who isn’t part of a set of twins, but that’s a very interesting proposition…I’d like to see where this could go.