[color=darkgray]Banjo returned to his dinner table, slumping in his seat with his brow furrowed with thought. He was slamming doors shut on his own efforts here. Shoshanna was freezing him out now, and it was his own stupid fault. Unable to be anything but himself, even in the face of oblivion. Banjo bein’ Banjo. So what now? He could no longer see the canary in the coal mine. A wry smile crossed his face. Exactly what you were doing. Be loud. Be unruly. Let it be known you’re looking for him. Put the word out. And be so big, brash and bold that eyes linger. And then find the eyes which try to look away too fast. Loud, unruly, big, brash and bold. Obnoxious. Banjo bein’ Banjo. Then it descended on him. The scraping between his ears. Obstructive static behind his eyes. It relented for a moment, before re-gathering him, having found something it wanted. In the moment in between he could smell the familiar. But whatever it was had been different this time. The presence had been gentler before, this was barely recognisable as the same thing, but the touch was too familiar and too rare to be anything else. What once had been a gentle guide, held mentally hand-in-hand, now rummaged through the contents of his mind like a thief who had him bound and vulnerable on the floor. He knew enough to feel fear. And it hadn’t even been instilled in him. It was his own. He felt overwhelming nausea. First from the act, and then from the violation, compounded by his helplessness in the moment. With a gasp it released him. At its own whim. It had enough of what it wanted. He suddenly wished that no eyes were on him at all, but felt like all the world was watching. Perfect, complete exposure. He remembered who she was now. He had his faculties back enough for that. Everything in him screamed at him to run. She’d been with ‘Him’ and now he was dead, what were her designs here. Had she found another who also wished him harm and decided to join forces? His breath quickened, but his focus was gathered enough to know that running would accomplish nothing. If this was an attack. If she was part of anything that sought to harm him, it was already as good as over. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. Wait, and let your last act be to spit your own blood or pony in their bloody face, and remember your laughter ringing in their ears. [i]You'll come a Waltzin' Matilda with me, Sunshine...[/i] If something even better doesn’t come along… He felt the restraints snapped on. A broad leer spread across his face. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Unstable. That's not the word they use to describe a man who'd feed a bloke his own horse?"[/color] As he was dragged him away by his bare arms, the floor grazing behind his heels, he launched one final salvo. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Easy on the material, champ. Don't let the poo brown fool you, the fibres are scratchy as shit as well..."[/color] She leapt back upon his mind once more. A show of force to show she could. To make him pliant. When the pain receded, like an ebbing tide, he dropped his brow into a scowl directed firmly at her. Whatever her designs were, they weren't through with him yet. [/color] [color=darkgoldenrod][sup]________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________[/sup][/COLOR][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/B0qe6B0.jpeg[/img][/CENTER][indent][sub][COLOR=darkgoldenrod][B]Location:[/B][/COLOR] [I]The Foundation - Present[/I] [I][/I][/sub][sup][right][COLOR=darkgoldenrod][b]Human #5.096:[/b][/COLOR] [url=https://open.spotify.com/track/7KjshuVvYwFlunnMSPSTrM?si=92zZcGhcQXSXQGh85LxtqA]Land of the Bloody Unknown[/url][/right][/sup][/indent][COLOR=darkgoldenrod][SUP][sub]____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________[/sub][/SUP][/COLOR][indent][sub][color=darkgoldenrod][B]Interaction(s):[/B][/COLOR] [I]Former P.R.C.U transfers to The Foundation[/I][/sub][SUP][RIGHT][COLOR=darkgoldenrod][b]Previously:[/b][/COLOR] [color=white][I]Shoshanna Tannin[/I][/color][/right][/SUP][/indent] [color=darkgray]Banjo found himself in another dark space. Not unlike the one he had found himself in earlier during their initial tests. Only without the scent of urine with a side of defecation. The boy in the box. [i]Why is it all of the worst moments in my life take place in tight spaces in the dark..?[/i] This time the monster was a blonde woman, barely five and a half feet in heels, in the old measure. Summer Carlisle. The therapist he'd seen when he first came to the school. One he'd taken mentally by hand on a traipse through his mental space. She already knew her way around his memories, and didn't seem quite so gentle anymore. But why? That didn't seem like the puzzle to solve at this point. Nefarious intent. Whatever it was. He needed to get out. Out of this box and into the sun. Bobbing up and down as lonely as a cork in the ocean, his chances of juicing and swimming safely to [b]ANYWHERE[/b] meaningful seemed slim. But slim seemed better than whatever this was. Speed, strength and smarts didn't seem like much of anything when dealing with a person who can get at you from the inside. [color=white]"Hello again."[/color] The voice seemed to surround him. Piped in from some place unseen and reverberating around the tight space. His attention snapped to look for a source, before he realised it was a hopeless case. [color=white]"It's been quite some time, hasn't it, Andrew?"[/color] The name bit into him, she was one of very few people who knew that it genuinely was his real first name, whatever he chose to call himself. From a past she'd seen, with a veil she helped peek behind, at one of the more vulnerable times of his life. [color=white]"...and you've experienced quite a lot since last we met."[/color] A deep inhaled sniff came from the young Australian man. His discomfort with the scene palpable. [color=white]"Perhaps we should re-visit it? It has been a while since we had a session. Your files tell us you have a history of being... less than co-operative with most therapists. But I'd like to think we're familiar enough that we can dig a little deeper."[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"So who are you working for this time? Found another bloke to follow and believe in? Someone else to push all of your chips in and go down without too much of a fight for again? Which psychopath is it this time? You're supposed to be imprisoned here, so I take it its somebody high up? Wasn't just that scumbag horse-chef was it, from the Hall just now? You can do better. Slumming it."[/color] [color=white]"We're not talking about me, Andrew--"[/color] She refused to be baited away from purpose, to be delayed for even a moment of time. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, maybe you can't do better. But those are the kind of nice things you say in polite company, yeah?"[/color] [color=white]"We're delving into you."[/color] The horrible feeling of violation once more, as she wormed her way into his mind, grabbing familiar parts of his past as she pulled herself deeper inside. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Maybe. Not. So. Polite. Bloody. Compan-- fuck!"[/color] He found himself in an open field from one late evening. Up ahead was a blonde heading for a tent. Their tent. Banjo bopped confidently towards the tent, practically dancing as he watched her gait. The swing of her ample hips, suddenly she turned and looked back at him, a smile upon her lips as she looked at him from behind those glasses-- Wait-- no- this isn't-- This isn't what happened. This isn't right. He still held enough of his memories of her to know this wasn't right at all. It didn't happen like-- Obscenity! [color=darkgoldenrod]"Get. The. Fuck. Out of. There!"[/color] He growled through gritted teeth, flecks of spit starting to froth in the corners of his mouth with hot rage. [color=white]"Oh relax... You've still plenty of her in here. I won't replace her in all of them. After all, that would miss the point, wouldn't it? And you've been so good at deliberately missing the point..."[/color] She yanked his attention to another past memory. He found himself back in the trials, in front of the AV set up. Seemingly watching Haven get sawn into parts. [color=white]"But it's not like you really care. After all, you seemed more rattled by--"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"There's a difference between a situation where I know we're all in danger, and seeing a friend's grisly bloody demise..."[/color] [color=white]"Then why haven't you wept for her?"[/color] Banjo's teeth gritted and he stayed silent. Maybe she couldn't see it. They were thoughts and plans, not memories. Best she not know what he's really doing here. The thought that she was now in with Daedalus flashed across his mind, perhaps Daedalus himself was a known and accepted part of the school. After all, they did accept the views on sub-species which he also shared and adhered to... Maybe he'd read this all wrong. Maybe the whole damn Foundation was Daedalus. And he'd walked right through the front door with barely veiled intentions... [color=white]"You know, you don't wear silence well."[/color] She smiled. [color=white]"I can practically [b]HEAR[/b] your mind ticking when you go quiet, and its always so angry. Are you that angry all the time? Did any of your therapists ever touch on that?"[/color] She smiled knowingly. That must have been one of the moments she stumbled upon out in the dining hall. Smug. He didn't deal well with smug from teachers. From adults. He didn't deal well with smug from would be authority figures. Few could be in higher authority than one who could run roughshod on the mind. [color=darkgoldenrod]"My mind isn't such a nice place to be..."[/color] He growled, before his own memory lunged at her and dragged her back to a different time, a darker time. The darkness, the growing, living darkness, as they found themselves in the closet. A horrible dark figure moving around beyound the door which protected them. Summer laughed. Banjo stood paralysed with fear, fear that her brazen laughter would draw the attention of the dark figure on the other side of the door, terror gripped him and then she did by the hand, and the pair left the boy in the box and jumped back through his mental space. [color=white]"Your past doesn't scare anyone but you. You think I haven't seen worse? You think the people you went through school with, the students the teachers, never saw worse? I [b]LET[/b] you lead me through your mind, I could have dragged you through your past at any moment I chose. You confused willing submissiveness with a lack of ability. And let me tell you, for a 'bad boy'... most real 'bad boys' don't have so many rules or principles. Your mind isn't anything special, dark or otherwise. And neither are you. You're a scared little boy. Only you're supposed to be a man now, so its even more pathetic."[/color] She hauled him into a moment in his recent past. The moment Calli told him of the 'recent developments with her family'. The point of doom. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, that sounds great."[/color] She'd told him that the rift seemed to be closing between her family. Her brother had been shot, and it had brought together elements previously believed to be torn asunder, possibly for good. It had seemed too good to be true. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, that sounds great."[/color] She had just told him that she'd be going to be by her brother's bedside, her father wanted to mend fences. For a man as cynical as Banjo, and with his own feelings towards family, it seemed too good to be true. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, that sounds great."[/color] He had just agreed to stay home, whilst she tried to patch things up with the estranged family members who were still bound together by what they came so close to losing. Banjo could be a... divisive figure... and the best hopes of a future as a family would probably be for him to remain at P.R.C.U and to be introduced at a more stable time in the future, since they seemed to have a real shot at patching things up. It seemed too good to be true. [color=white]"This was the moment."[/color] Summer said. [color=white]"You knew different. You always knew better. More than anyone, you know how fickle family can be. That it would never be this simple. This was the moment you killed her."[/color] [i]Just keep her here... Anywhere is better, than if she starts to snoop and finds out what you're doing here.[/i] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, that sounds great."[/color] His own words washed more of his composure away with each passing of a fresh tide. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, that sounds great."[/color] The bitterness of the weight those words carried with such levity. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, that sounds great."[/color] As if it were nothing. Words with which he'd see her leave, bound for doom. Destined for horrors heretofore unimaginable. [color=white]"We're not going anywhere. We're going to stay here until you actually absorb the meaning of those words. You did this. You killed her, and you know it. You can't keep running from it."[/color] [i]We're staying here..? Good. Good, Banjo. Good. That's just what we want.[/i] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, that sounds great."[/color] [i]Isn't it? Yes. Yes, it's exactly what we--[/i] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, that sounds great."[/color] What exactly WAS he thinking when he said that? In what way did it seem like a-- no. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, that sounds great."[/color] [i]It wasn't you. It was the monster you're tryin' to get. All of this was him. And if you hold--[/i] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, that sounds great."[/color] His breathing was becoming rapid in contrast with the calm, composed words of his past self. So sure of himself. But he wasn't, was he? [i]You are not responsible for that monster's actions. And you're gonna get her back. Even if you have to follow Gil down to literal Hell once he walks the path, you're goin' to get her back and make him fix this.[/i] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, that sounds great."[/color] [i]This is not a situation you can't unfuck. You'll drag a monster to Hell to pull her free of another monster if you have to. This is something you can do. You could talk down the devil himself if you had to. You--[/i] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, that sounds great."[/color] The false confidence of his past self was rattling his belief in himself to fix what had come to pass. With every wave of his misplaced confidence striking a fresh blow against him. [color=white]"She's gone and you killed her. With those glib, thoughtless words. You sent her traipsing down a doomed path with--"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, that sounds great."[/color] The bell tolled once more, its resonance shaking him once more. [color=white]"You killed her."[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, that sounds great."[/color] [color=white]"You--!"[/color] [i]Need to get the fuck out of here...[/i] He grabbed her by both shoulders. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Fuck you!"[/color] He suplexed the pair of them backwards, hurtling through his memories. [i]Gotta go somewhere else. Somewhere... not scary. That wasn't an answer. But something that'll shock her. Somewhere I can re-find... Balance?[/i] They hurtled past a stormy night where a hyperhuman terrorist wreaked havoc on a horrified student body, passed funerals, passed classes, passed car rides and star-filled nights. He landed with a thud driving the pair of them into a linoleum floor, wearing state provided flannel pyjamas. A boy covered with bruises for a crime he didn't commit. He fell onto his bunk belly down, to avoid contact with the kisses 'Auld Scalder' had laid on his form. He twitched and jumped as a figure appeared from the darkness. Jennifer put an arm around his upper body away from where he'd been beaten and hugged him. He couldn't relax into it. But the sentiment was there. [color=white]"This is really how you see yourself isn't it. Some kind of hero. No. Even more laughable. A martyr."[/color] Summer laughed at the ridiculousness of it all, bringing them back here. [color=white]"That's still all you are. A scared little boy, telling whatever lie you need to, to run from the truth. That you bring all of this onto yourself. You killed her. Now you came crying back here for what? A hug? Pitiful. You know she can never hug you again, because of what you did, so you need one from someone who is still alive."[/color] He couldn't relax into it. The pain still bit. The words still hurt. They couldn't be true, but still they stung all the same. [i]You know why you're doing this. Why you'll keep doing this. Any and all of this is worth it once you get her back. Once you make-- wait-- who was it that you're meant to...[/i] It was... No. What had she been messing around with in his-- [color=darkgoldenrod]"What did-- Wait--?! What did you do!?!"[/color] A small smirk crossed Summer's face as she watched and discover his realisation that the winning move was already being played, far away from his emotional outburst. He sprinted through his past, jumping through memories of fireside chats and chairs outside of Principal's offices. Sprinting faster than hyperhuman sun-inused legs could normally carry him. Vignettes of love and laughter, violence and outbursts flashing past and cutting him like overgrown foliage as he ran. He came to the place they'd found Haven. They'd rescued her. But from what? He tried to remember the words, the source, the threat, but it was gone. His name. Was gone. [i]No... That isn't...[/i] Summer finally, found him again, and began to chuckle. He sprinted through memories again. That night. Everyone knew what happened that night! He burst through a door to a classroom wardrobe closet and came out of a bathroom in the A.R.C with trouser legs half mast, and a suit that was practically bursting off of him. He was grabbed by a large form. A friend. Albeit one who didn't like him very much. Their conversation was immaculately preserved, but of no real use to what he wanted. He pushed on past that part of the memory. [i]The monster, the beast. Where was it from! It was from-- no! Where was the name--?![/i] [color=darkgoldenrod]"What did you take from me!?!"[/color] Still she laughed. He'd been playing a short game and never even saw it coming. [color=white]"What could you mean? It can't have been too important, can it?"[/color] [i]No... it was everything. It was why he was here. It was his way of... What was he--?[/i] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, that sounds great."[/color] The words from his past echoed. As the monster, this Chernobog tore through everyone that night whilst he stood and watched. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, that sounds great."[/color] Two Gils were broken before monstrous hands. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, that sounds great."[/color] [color=white]"You did this. You killed her. You did it all. You see that now, don't you?"[/color] It was gone. The way that he knew she was wrong. She'd robbed him, when he thought he was distracting her. She'd been playing him, after all, being in these mental scapes was her purview, he'd fought a war on a battleground she was most used to fighting on. In ways he hadn't even considered. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, that sounds great."[/color] She'd stolen his purpose. He'd lost everything, but he'd never had any fear that he could never get it back. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, that sounds great."[/color] [color=white]"You--"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Oh-- Oh God. I did this..."[/color] The realisation, the weight of it all. He dropped to his knees. Everything he'd lost, finally hit home. And furthermore that it was his doing. He'd sent it all away. Summer smiled, and her hand patted the back of his head gently. A gracious victor. His head, her prize. He wept as the horror scape of his the A.R.C and all its gore melted into desolation, before the mental space lifted around him. He was kneeling in the dark, before a bright light as the door to the solitary cell had slid open. A large figure towered over him, holding him in eclipse. A name dared to squeak inquisitviely from his lips, before a large fist helped him find sleep. [/color]