PatientBean
Qia
webboysurf
Festive
Melissa
Zoldyck
Kuro
Dark Cloud
Eviledd1984"You haven't done this before, right? To me, I mean?"
Banjo's words hung in the air, directed at the H.E.L.P psionic who'd brought him in 'just for a chat', that seemed a lot more like a psych test now that he was in it.
That 'just a chat' had now turned it's focus towards a mental scan to try and find whatever remnants they could of his parents, scattered floating in the ether of his memories.
"No." Summer Carlyle replied softly. "That would be deeply unethical."
"Yes, I'm sure that the school which seems to want to make us boots on the ground soldiers in some kind of battle over public opinion would neither do anything deeply unethical or ever ask anything deeply unethical of you either."
Her lips pursed at the assertion, she opened her mouth to speak and--
"Yeah, you could drive a truck through that hesitation, so I'm guessing that was right. Still, agenda's are aligned on this one so have at it. Let's see what you can find. Just... steer clear of any moments where I'm alone in my dorm from about age fifteen onwards. Those are 'Banjo's times'."
"It doesn't work like that. It's guided. You're going to be with me all the way."
"Even better. Then it probably makes sense if we start at the beginning..." Suddenly he found they shared a space with no walls, flickering echoes surrounded them.
"Huh. So this is my mind is it?"
"This is how you choose to perceive it presently."
"Wait, so I can like change up the decor and that in here, eh?"
"You can. With time and some effort, yes. Psionic's tend to have a little more influence on the mental-space than other's but that's because they tend to spend more time in these places. Practice makes perfect. But your influence in here is probably going to be most effective when you model areas within here on places you're most intimately familiar with. Those kinds of changes will hold form better."
"Maybe I'll leave it as is for the time being, then. Bit of a fixer-upper, but--"
"Well, how about if we start over there?" Summer pointed down a pathway to where a huge scene was playing out.
"Bit specific. What makes you want to start there? Bit intimidating..."
"The biggest ones tend to seem big because they happened when you were so very small. And if you were small, then those would be the earliest memories, yes? When you were still around your parents?"
"Well, makes a sort of sense really, then, I guess. Alright. Let's go. Guided, right?"
"Right."
Banjo hooked Summer's arm with his own and started down the pathway, as the memory unveiled itself all around them.
He was in a chair. His little legs couldn't reach the ground. They dangled tapping against the wooden legs of the dining room table after each swing.
"How old am I there... I don't remember any of this?"
"Yes..." Summer hissed in a hushed whisper. "Evidently you do." She gestured all around them. The kitchen seemed blurry, and a figure moved around as a walking blur. They kept a close watch as it moved, impossible to distinguish, they could only see the outline of where the figure had been after it moved. The blur not only encompassed the person, but the surrounding kitchen around them.
"Tell me what you're seeing." Summer asked gently. "I can see these things too, but sometimes it can distort perspective if viewed through someone else's eyes."
"It's-- a female. I'm guessing... by the gait. Her walk. My mother?"
"If I had to guess." The H.E.L.P psionic confirmed.
The small child flung peas and corn with his spoon, with a big smile on his face.
"BAAAAAAAAAAAAN-DJROOOOOOOOOOOO!" The blurred figure called out, it's voice echoed from a thousand miles away, distorted as if it was being called through water.
"Ban-jo hafta see if I can gettem in my cup." Explained the boy. Everything was laid out in front of him, but the cup seemed so distant for the small child.
Another blur swept through. It rushed through the door next to the kitchen in a frantic. It's speech wachn't through water. It was rushed and faint. No words were discernable. The voices gave Banjo a headache. The entire scene was starting to give him a headache.
"Let's see if we can clear that bit up before, shall we?"
Summer stepped up and wound back proceedings.
".puc ym ni metteg nac I fi ees aftah oj-naB" "!OOOOOOOOOOOORJD-NAAAAAAAAAAAAB"
"We're going to speed this next bit up, play it a bit faster. See if we can lose some of the nostalgic distortion."
"An-Drew!"
"BanjohaftaseeifIcangetteminmycup!"
"So... Andrew. Would seem your name is Andrew. 'Banjo', maybe it came from you not being able to pronounce your name correctly." Summer clarified.
That didn't sound right. Not the Andrew part. That seemed to make sense. But he felt like he'd been called it before and after. Like he always had been, a nickname he'd received and could just say it easier than his birth name.
The blurs came back, and with it the pain, the headaches. More intense with the increased speed of the playback. Banjo called out in agony and the pair returned, finding themselves not in the house, not in the mental space, but back in her office.
"What the Hell was that? Why does it feel like someone just took a jackhammer to right between my eyes?"
"Well, I understand why you asked me that question before... And I assure you, you're safe here, Banjo. I haven't been poking around your memories."
Banjo didn't care at the moment, he was awash with nausea, and the pain that was right behind the space between his eyes.
"But SOMEONE has pruned them. There's something there people don't want you to remember."
"Do you know why I called you in to see you, Banjo?" The last word seemed to stick in the prim and proper man's mouth. Almost like it held a silliness that he didn't want to lower himself to utter, lest his participation be mistaken for support.
"Well, it's not because you wanted to say the name 'Banjo', that much is for sure." Banjo thought to himself.
"I suspect for the same reason the pricipals of most of the other boarding schools have wanted to pull me away and speak to me separate from the rest. Concerns over my disciplinary record and you're seeking some kind of assurance that it'll be different in the future."
"Oh yes?"
"Yeah. And I'm not going to be giving you those assurances."
"No?"
"Nah." He shook his head with a broad smile across his face. "See, I can't. It's in my nature. As Popeye would say I yam what I yam. I do what I do. I am defined... by me. And telling you that I'm not going to do a thing when it may just be innate. I'm not going to do that."
"Is that so?" Jonas Lehrer had rocked back and was polishing his glasses now.
"Yeah, let's just chalk it up to me having too much respect for you to lie to you like that, sir. It'd be... distasteful." A shit-eating grin crossed the youth's face. Bullshit meter was swinging heavily in the 150% range with steam coming off it.
Jonas replaced his glasses and seemed to grow inches taller as his posture changed from leaning back to leaning forward.
"I called you in to speak to you, Banjo--"
"--Because I like to take the time to speak to all of our new addition students. Nothing more. I like to lead off with that question, because I find, it turns out to be a pretty good Rorschach test for how our students see themselves. You'll get alpha personalities who'll come in here and think the reason they've been called in is because they think I'm pushing forward the hopes of the next generation on their specific, very special, backs. You'll get beta personalities who'll come in thinking the reason is because they're expecting me to repeat some kind of spiel about the expectations of the school, that we're all pulling together, that every person has their part to play in creating a community which forms the bedrock of the education which will sculpt future minds, then you get those with questionable disciplinary records--"
Banjo's ears started to get hot. He'd underestimated the situation, but waited patiently for his opportunity to reply.
"--who basically feel they've been hauled in here to confront their own past, repent and swear that they'll try to do better in the future like they've been dragged before some kind of parole board hearing."
"And that brings us to you..."
"Who came in, of the belief that you'd been brought in because of such a disciplinary record. But claims to be completely unrepentent. That your own behaviour is bound to repeat. That it's innate. And that you're incapable of change."
"And I'll tell you, with my own specific field of expertise, I could spend well over an hour lecturing you on this and still not adaquately hit on JUST HOW MUCH I know that to be untrue based on the monumental weight of empirical evidence that I've had in the field over the years."
"It's actually quite laughable. That you would come in here and suggest that. Either that you ACTUALLY believe that, or that you think so little of me that you expect me to. It leans to you really not being briefed at all on me, or this place."
"For example, did you know that the campus used to be an old miliitary Academy?" The Chancellor finally left space for a retort. Banjo wouldn't pass it up.
"USED to be?"
"HA!" Jonas let out a singular laugh. "Yes. Good one."
That felt off to Banjo. Stilted. And both student and teacher let the silence weigh heavy in the room. "Had he just... deliberately set me up for that one?" The older man smiled. Not just radiating with warmth, but with a twinkle in his eye. as if he knew what game was being played and he was telling Banjo that he'd be more than up for it at any time. The weight of the silence was becoming uncomfortable now. Banjo decided to try and see if he could knock him off balance.
"You know who my parents are, don't you?"
The smile widened further, and the twinkle once again.
"When you go out, can you let the next one in?"
Next one? Banjo got to his feet and slowly walked to the door, looking back at the older man. That wasn't a line? He wasn't the only one called in up here? He opened the door to see a long line of waiting new students. Banjo made eye contact with the one sitting closest to the door and with a subtle raise of the eyebrows and tilt of the head, told her it was time to go in now. She passed him whilst Banjo held open the door and contemplated everything that happened in the past few minutes.
"Oh and Banjo?" Jonas said, bringing him back into the now as the next student took his seat. "The door please."
Banjo slowly closed the door behind him, but not before seeing one last twinkle as the older teacher met his gaze through the right lens of his glasses, a wry grin curling on one side of his mouth.
"Now, do you know why I called you in to see you--" he caught, just as the door clicked shut behind him...
B A N J O
B A N J O
B A N J O
Location: Pacific Royal Collegiate & University - Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean
he Homecoming Trials #1.02: You haven't done this before, right? To me, I mean?
Interaction(s): N/A
Previously: N/A
Banjo's bored face seemed to sink into his fist, propped up by the elbow on the desk. He drummed the fingers of his other hand rhythmically at the desk.
It was boring times in the "down hours" at the Collegiate library. The occasional student returning fiction books they'd borrowed for their own recreational reading in the holiday weeks between semesters had work down to scarcely a trickle. Early-birds had already got on their texts for the coming course-load, and the average student wouldn't make a move on getting their own until next week. So here he sat. In the dead spot.
There had been a few cohorts of giggling high school girls who'd found the strange new creature - who looked around their age but spoke with the accent from a faraway land and would be attending the university this coming year - interesting. But they weren't the kind of girls he had in mind when he was told he'd be attending this school.
He began to think it may have been a mistake to have gotten himself kicked out of the university library role.
Even if their rubbish bins are ridiculously flammable.
Truth was, he hadn't even tried to do anything this time. It kind of just happened. Then all of a sudden he's stomping out the fire, and questions are being asked about how it started and... well... yeah. He'd already been enough of a source of irritation for the librarian already. So THAT'S what must have gotten him kicked. I mean, he was pretty sure the librarian hadn't actually SEEN him accidentally starting the fire in the first place. So it must have just been holding a grudge.
He sighed audibly.
The collegiate librarian sent him out to re-stack the three books which had been returned and to go check the order of non-fiction again.
He couldn't imagine it would have changed significantly from the last time since there was only one person who'd come in the library since he'd done it last time. And they'd just come in to dunny dash and leave.
Another sigh.
Banjo wrapped his wrist around his loose fitting tie, and held it aloft like a noose, dragging himself off to the task at hand.
Banjo slowly trudged his way to the stadium. He was yelled at numerous times by faculty members to speed up, lest he be tardy, which only had the result of making him take his time all the more.
The sun was wonderful, and almost enough to tempt a man into soaking it all up. Almost.
When he finally got there he saw nothing but full seats, and shrugged to the staffmember who was watching the aisle. Looks like he'd be standing.
He winced at the cacophony of bagpipes blasting behind him, as he turned back to face the stage.
"All stand for the national anthem!"
Banjo let rip with a heartwarming, if slightly off key, rendition of 'Advance Australia Fair' to the music of 'O Canada', crunching a few lines in spaces they wouldn't fit and even tacking on chunks from the second verse which nobody ever sings in to fit, once he'd run out of words. Very creative, if not melodic.
Who knew this school would be able to awaken his patriotic spirit..? He seldom sang the national anthem at all back home.
The surrounding faculty didn't seem to agree.
The Chancellor of this rocking establishment came out to the kind of raucous response that you would expect a cult leader or at least tv evangelist would receive. Which was enough to draw a cocked eyebrow out of Banjo.
Students had started to rise and file out of their seats. Pouring out of the stadium and casting Banjo adrift on the raging torrent.
"Long time hyperhuman; first time caller. Never been to one of these shindigs before, so just out of curiosity, how many of us WILL you be sacrifing to your gods in this thing for a good harvest this year?"
It was boring times in the "down hours" at the Collegiate library. The occasional student returning fiction books they'd borrowed for their own recreational reading in the holiday weeks between semesters had work down to scarcely a trickle. Early-birds had already got on their texts for the coming course-load, and the average student wouldn't make a move on getting their own until next week. So here he sat. In the dead spot.
There had been a few cohorts of giggling high school girls who'd found the strange new creature - who looked around their age but spoke with the accent from a faraway land and would be attending the university this coming year - interesting. But they weren't the kind of girls he had in mind when he was told he'd be attending this school.
He began to think it may have been a mistake to have gotten himself kicked out of the university library role.
Even if their rubbish bins are ridiculously flammable.
Truth was, he hadn't even tried to do anything this time. It kind of just happened. Then all of a sudden he's stomping out the fire, and questions are being asked about how it started and... well... yeah. He'd already been enough of a source of irritation for the librarian already. So THAT'S what must have gotten him kicked. I mean, he was pretty sure the librarian hadn't actually SEEN him accidentally starting the fire in the first place. So it must have just been holding a grudge.
He sighed audibly.
The collegiate librarian sent him out to re-stack the three books which had been returned and to go check the order of non-fiction again.
He couldn't imagine it would have changed significantly from the last time since there was only one person who'd come in the library since he'd done it last time. And they'd just come in to dunny dash and leave.
Another sigh.
Banjo wrapped his wrist around his loose fitting tie, and held it aloft like a noose, dragging himself off to the task at hand.
Banjo slowly trudged his way to the stadium. He was yelled at numerous times by faculty members to speed up, lest he be tardy, which only had the result of making him take his time all the more.
The sun was wonderful, and almost enough to tempt a man into soaking it all up. Almost.
When he finally got there he saw nothing but full seats, and shrugged to the staffmember who was watching the aisle. Looks like he'd be standing.
He winced at the cacophony of bagpipes blasting behind him, as he turned back to face the stage.
"All stand for the national anthem!"
Banjo let rip with a heartwarming, if slightly off key, rendition of 'Advance Australia Fair' to the music of 'O Canada', crunching a few lines in spaces they wouldn't fit and even tacking on chunks from the second verse which nobody ever sings in to fit, once he'd run out of words. Very creative, if not melodic.
Who knew this school would be able to awaken his patriotic spirit..? He seldom sang the national anthem at all back home.
The surrounding faculty didn't seem to agree.
The Chancellor of this rocking establishment came out to the kind of raucous response that you would expect a cult leader or at least tv evangelist would receive. Which was enough to draw a cocked eyebrow out of Banjo.
"...And as our returning students know, today signals the start of the Homecoming Trials. For our incoming students, you will get the full Pacific Royal experience as you compete in your assigned teams for the weekend for the honour of being the Homecoming Royals. These trials will also determine your house placement, so be true to yourselves and give them your all."
The crowd burst into applause as Jonas turned to accept a torch that was handed to him. Standing up from his seat, the House Canis faculty member; who Cass recognized as none other than his guardian's brother, Aiden Roth, suddenly ignited the flame with his heat vision. With the torch lit, Dr. Lehrer turned towards the bronze Chimera, lighting a flame in each mouth of the statue.
"Let the 2023 Homecoming Trials commence!" Jonas shouted into the din of cheers. "All incoming students! You are to return to the Intake House before proceeding to the Southern Plateau. New students should proceed in their assigned teams. You will find a package on each of your beds containing everything you will need for this weekend, including your physical activity uniform. You are to report to the Southern Plateau by 1500 hrs and in this uniform. I wish each of you luck and look forward to seeing with House calls you home!"
Students had started to rise and file out of their seats. Pouring out of the stadium and casting Banjo adrift on the raging torrent.
"Long time hyperhuman; first time caller. Never been to one of these shindigs before, so just out of curiosity, how many of us WILL you be sacrifing to your gods in this thing for a good harvest this year?"
