A. Action. 724 Anderson.



[Upon awakening, the Psiioniic notices something. Firstly, there is not a body sans legs cuddling up to him. He kind of misses that, you know. Secondly, while the person who that other body belongs to does have quite a bit of hair, it is not nearly as much as he is feeling all around him right now.]

[And then he realizes who actually has that much impossible hair and promptly wakes up so he can flip his shit.]

[And that, housemate, is why a high pitched voice is cursing up a storm enough to make sailors blush. Psii is currently confused and in an empress' body that has horns too big and too much hair. Kind of panicking right now, not gonna lie. His enormously long horns are knocking into everything, and he's kind of gotten himself tangled up in all that hair.]

B. Phone.



[Pick up the phone, Mayfield residents, and you may hear the voice of one Her Imperious Condescension...]

Wow, and right when I thought you couldn't get more fucked up, Mayfield.

[...Except does she usually swear this much? The Psiioniic is not a happy camper.]

What kind of messed up joke is this? First you did that- that thing with my best friend and now you're shoving me into THIS body? What bullshit are you smok...ing...

[He trails off.]

[There's a long moment of silence.]

[A giggle. An excited giggle. Then, whispered very quietly-]

Messed. Is. This. First. Best. Shoving. Bullshit. Okay, you know what, never mind that. Mayfield, I need all the 'S' words and tongue twisters you can give me.

Now. Thanks.

C. Action, midmorning. En Route to 431 Peepers



[After the initial thrill of finally being freed of a lisp, Psiidence has realized that he should probably go check on his own house and Milla, just to see if she's been bodyswapped too... and also, yeah, to see if that Batterwitch is messing up his body.]

[There's just one problem.]

[And that problem keeps getting trapped around lightpoles, fire hydrants, trees, small animals, and children.]

[Yeah, Psiidence hasn't exactly mastered the art of hair yet. So feel free to come across the poor guy, trying to untangle his hair yet again... usually by going at it with a saw he managed to somehow find.]

[Yep. Leaving behind a trail of massive chunks of hair until he gets to Milla's house, no big deal.]

D. Action. All around Mayfield.



[Having a bit of trouble? You might suddenly find a tall alien woman with a a cute bob haircut, a pretty dress, and a bright smile on her face trying to help you.]

[OR]

[Are you a teenager or a child? Do you look like a teenager or a child? Then you may find that very same tall gray alien woman waving you over!] Hey! Excuse me for a second, come here!

[At the bank]

[To the Psiioniic’s chagrin, he does have a job to do, and now that things are settled and Milla is doing alright, he’s back at his job.]

[However, he’s… not the most social of person. Which can be something of a problem, considering he’s apparently the bank teller that most people seem to be redirected to today. Care to bother the gentleman in the suit who’s impatiently alternating between running up the numbers for the bank and tapping his pen against the desk?]

[Phone, filtered from Disciple and Signless]

Tho. Are any of you good at making clotheth? I want thomething made. Not to be thpecific, but it involveth a pink coat and gaudy amountsth of jewelry. If fathion ith a high priority for you, don’t talk to me.

[At the marketplace]

[Considering Milla’s condition, he’s outright refused to let her go about pushing herself too far. Grocery shopping falls under that category, so here the Psiioniic is, getting all the things Milla listed for him on a piece of paper.]

[And, uh… maybe a bit more.]

[You might find him in the produce and fruit aisles, outright staring with wide eyes at a display of oranges. They’re surely imported and are definitely a bit pricey.]

[…The staring is getting to be a bit weird. Interrupt the guy whose mind is currently being blown by a sudden revelation?]

[After the grocery store visit]

[The problem with getting a bunch of oranges and also the rest of the groceries is that the Psiioniic only has two hands. This is a problem.]

[So for anyone wandering down the street today, you might see him just standing there on the sidewalk, surrounded by grocery bags. He’s staring down at them, deep in thought and rubbing his chin. Really a shame they wouldn’t let him take the grocery cart out of the store…]

[Would you like to talk to the guy who looks like he could use some help?]

[At the hospital]

[There is a guy covered in blood waking up outside of the hospital.]

[There are dried trails down from his eyes, his ears, and his mouth, along with a shallow cut along his neck, freshly bleeding once again. He holds himself anxiously, shoulders up to his ears and feet practically tapping out a twitchy rhythm. The state of his own body seems to confuse him, because he keeps glancing down at his bloody hands with a puzzled frown.]

[Eventually, he can be found crouched down near a large snow pile, using the snow to wipe and wash away the blood on his hands and face. The hospital? He's only glanced at it once with a distasteful curl of his lips.]

[Around town]

[Hopefully you aren't peeking into any alleys, or trying to use them as shortcuts. The Psiioniic can't stop pacing, brow furrowed and bloodstains still on his shirt. In his hands is a short, jagged piece of metal- a shank, yes. His footsteps can be heard, sharply click-clacking on the ground.]




[[ooc: After being killed by a Notsovast Glub courtesy of his friend Signless, the Psiioniic has finally come back to life. However, this has left him with a rather nasty case of amnesia that's taken out his few memories of Mayfield and even a bit before. Needless to say, he'll have a lot of questions. And yes, he still looks human.]

[At first, there's just the nervous clattering of someone fumbling with the phone and the sound of heavy breathing. No words, just shuffling. Finally, after a moment pregnant with tense silence, the Psiioniic finally whispers into the phone.]

I need help. A thertain inthane witch kidnapped me, and won't let me go. I can't get away on my own- not in thith thtupid weak human body.

If you're a thtranger, I'll pay you back. If you're Thol or Feferi, fuck off. Anyone elthe, I'll take what I can get, tho-

[A sudden, inhuman shriek interrupts the call, and there's a few thuds as Psiioniic drops the phone briefly in surprise.]

What the hell do you think you're doing--

[If the sounds he makes- along with a string of vulgar curses- are any indication, he's in a hurry to pick it up. A thud as something heavy is slammed into a wall, sounds of struggle- then his rasping, desperate voice.]

Anderthon! Anderthon! 724- FUCKING HELP!

ENOUGH!


[ooc: For slightly obvious reasons, both Psii and Condesce are... preoccupied. Your character can respond to the phonecall, but there's no guarantee that Condesce will pick up! (And she's most definitely not letting Psii handle the phone.) If you want to try and rescue the poor schmuck, then you'll need to get in contact with us. There's... a bit of a clusterfuck that's going to be happening.]

[Phone]

[Early in the morning of the 30th, pick up the phone, and you'll hear the Psiioniic's breath, ragged and desperate. His voice is no better; he's clearly spent quite a bit of his time shouting.]

[Every day since this whole mess has happened, he's made sure to check on his friends, to make sure they're alright. Signless and Disciple are some of the most important people in his life, and knowing what happens in the future... after what happened to Milla because he was careless... He doesn't want to fail again.]

[It happens anyway.]

[The rage and despair in his voice could tear him apart if it were physical.]

They fucking took him.

[His voice shakes. He doesn't explain further.]

[Action]

[Almost immediately after that little announcement, anyone loitering near the factory will notice one figure in particular making run after run against it.]

[The Psiioniic doesn't have his troll body back. He doesn't have anything. Certainly nothing to get him past the electrified barrier protecting the factory, and each attempt shocks him backwards, body smashing against the ground and rolling until he lays there for a few minutes, a twitching mess.]

[Each failed attempt, he gets back onto his feet. Each time, it's more unsteady than the last.]

[Unlike his earlier phone call, the expression on his face isn't angry. It's just pure focused concentration...]

[And if you can see his cheeks shining as if there's something wet there, well, pay it no mind.]




[ooc: edit trigger warning for self harm in the Condesce thread]

[Phone]

[After this, guess who has two thumbs, no horns, and issues, Mayfield, and isn't afraid to let you know it? Yeah, it's that one guy with the lisp.]

Tho, in the middle of a thudden thurge of bumbling newbieth, no one cared to mention- anywhere at all- that there are thertain placeth which are automatic death trapth? I would have liked to know that beforehand. [His voice hitches in a sarcastic snarl.] That would have been lovely.

Tho! Anything elthe you incompetent wathteth of thpace would like to inform me of?

[A pause, and just heavy breathing can be heard, a combination of all the running around he's had to do and how he's trying to calm himself down. When he manages even a little, his voice is just a little calmer, and maybe a little... regretful?]

If you know Milla Vidello, then you and me need to talk. Raz, Lili?

Altho, I've heard there are people capable of healing woundth around here. My writht ith broken becauthe I thlipped- [That's his excuse and he's sticking to it.] -and it ith getting to be a pain. I'll pay you back.

[Action; Mayfield Hospital; open to any]

[After ranting at the phone, the Psiioniic is standing against a wall, staring intently at one room in particular. His jaw is clenched and his mismatched gaze is hard to read. He's missing most of his outer clothes, leaving just a white button up and his slacks. Both are covered in crimson blood.]

[Occasionally, he looks down at his hands for a long while, and they start to shake.]

[Action; a little later in a private room, still Mayfield Hospital. Closed to Milla and Signless]

[When he's finally allowed inside, he immediately goes to Milla's bedside, already on one knee. His expression is full of self hatred and worry. He may have known Milla only briefly, but she's a good person. He should have done something. He should have known better than to trust this place.]

[Why is he always ruining things?]

[ action; ]

( a bit of context )

[ phone; ]

Hello, hello? ...Hm, no answer. That's odd.

[There's the sound of shoes clicking against tile before the Psiioniic's voice speaks up.]

You can't have expected it to be that eathy. For all we know, the thythem might only run according to a thertain pathword or twenty. Try uthing the nameth of thethe enigmatic friendth of yourth. Maybe that will get a rethponth.

Shhh, darling, let me handle this. Hello? This is Milla Vodello, calling any Psychonauts at headquarters? No, they're not on the line, not even the AI. That's troubling.

I will bet you twenty caegarth that thith ith a math hallucination. Twenty. Double or nothing.

But hold on- [More footsteps clacking over the phoneline and then the Psiioniic is invading her personal space to speak into the phone. Which is rather polite by troll standards, really.] Let me try my friendth thith time.

Eth, Dii, Rotha. Anyone there? Empire or jutht me going inthane?

[A pause, and then a little more desperately-]

Eth, pleathe.



[ OOC: purple is Milla, yellow is Psii. One or both of them might reply to any response here! ]