Chapter Text
“So… at last, after tventy more years, I am free once more…”
Razputin saw his reflection in the hotel window, clearly visible against the stormy night sky and the rain droplets racing down. It was a reflection he had mixed feelings about - over the past fifteen years, he’d grown less and less like his siblings and parents and more like… a certain other relative of his.
He could see his father’s brow and nose there, but his eyes were almond-shaped and very far apart, his cheekbones were high and his jaw pointed, almost creating a ‘T’ shape - very unlike the square heads and round eyes of the rest of his family. Sometimes he looked at his face and dark images filled his head, fueled by the very real memories of strangers recoiling in fear at the sight of him. The fact that he seemed to have permanent eye bags no matter how much he slept probably didn’t help.
But hey, he was Agent Razputin Aquato, actual real Psychonaut - he had no reason not to be content, right? And if a few people thought he looked a bit like his scary relative (who isn’t even that scary… when you know her deal, anyway), so what? Hell, it could even work to his advantage. The eye bags especially gave him a sort of ‘mafia assassin’ vibe, he thought.
And sometimes, as Agent Vodello always says, you just gotta roll with it.
“Free, yes, from the depths of this pitiful stick of a body!” he slowly recited to himself, in the thickest, corniest Grulovian accent he could manage. He began to raise his hands as a precursor to some dramatic gesture. “You thought I was gone, but nyeme! I am a part of ALL of you! Any von of you could be me at ANY moment! If you kill me, I shall return vonce more! And vith zis storm before me, Maligulo shall drown you all in your own sins! VRITHE IN UTTER DESPAIR!! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!”
‘Um, what the hell are you doing?’
Raz had just begun to ‘milk the giant cow’ as they say in the theatre, when he’d been jolted out of his acting - with a “GYAH!” - by a sudden mental chime-in. Lizzie Natividad, telepathizing from her room on the floor below his, in her usual exasperated tone.
Raz stumbled back onto the futon, quickly straightening up. ‘Ahem… sorry, I was just uh. Practicing. For when I inevitably go bad and try to take over the world.’
‘Riiight,’ Lizzie answered, and he could practically sense the smirk on her face, ‘well, if you’re done with that, are we ready to go yet? D’ya have a plan?”
Raz perked his brow. ‘...To take over the world?’
‘Ha ha, funny joke. You know what I mean, you idiot.’
‘Aw, you’re no fun. When did you turn into your sister?’
‘Pooter…’ Lizzie warned, radiating waves of sharp cold that Raz could sense even from up here.
‘Alright, alright’ , he relented. ‘Don’t have a solid plan yet, still reviewing the files. Gimme… ten more minutes.’
‘Gotcha. Well, I dunno about you, but I’m sick of sittin’ around on a futon with an icicle up my ass. I’m goin’ to get some grub. Meet me downstairs when you’re ready.’
With that settled, they agreed to keep ‘Radio Psylence’ (Raz’s term that everyone else latched onto, to Norma’s annoyance) until they headed back out. Only in the Psychonauts would talking in person be more secure than long-distance telepathy.
Of course, going Radio Psylent meant Raz could now feel it again. Those pinpricks on the side of his brain, like he’d just sat on it for hours and cut off the blood flow, and it was just now coming back.
He looked back out the window, at the lights of the Osaka skyline, watching the rain droplets. A flash of light and a crack of thunder as lightning struck the Tsutenkai tower did nothing to distract him.
Was never a huge fan of rain in the first place - back in the circus it only meant canceled shows and hours spent wringing water out of everything they owned. This dislike only intensified after he discovered his Hydrokinesis. Rain is too fast, too chaotic to be easily grasped like most bodies of water. Rivers, even seas he could work with, they had history, and moved predictably with tides. Rain was from everywhere. Impossible to really get a hold on. Even when indoors, it was like feeling a huge cloud of static just outside the window, and if he didn’t distract himself soon he was gonna get a headache.
He walked over to his desk, grasping a file he had open. Displayed prominently was a photograph of an old Japanese man - long face, sharp features, well-groomed beard, dressed in a not-so-well-groomed suit. Sensou Tsuda, the top of his dossier read.
Though it was for only a split second, in an instant he let Retrocognition take him back in time on a mental flashback, back to the Second Head’s office at the Motherlobe, two days ago. At least, for just a moment, he could pretend it was clear outside.
“Mr. Sensou is a high-ranking member of the Tetsuo Clan, a Yakuza group based in Osaka,” Norma had explained, pushing her glasses up, “and one of the key players in the East Asian Matango trade. Needless to say, we can’t have that.”
“No argument there,” Raz had said, his imagination conjuring up images of psychic stoners with Psitanium-scrambled brains mistaking planes for butterflies and trying to catch them. Which did admittedly get a chuckle out of him.
Norma perked a brow. “Is there something amusing about this situation, Agent Aquato?”
He cleared his throat. “No, ma’am.”
“...Please don’t call me ma’am. I’m not that old yet.”
Their mission had been a simple one - catch Mr. Sensou, get him to spill the beans on his Matango ring, and shut the operation down before it caused a disaster. Since Lilli was still out of commission after the incident in Kathmandu, and Lizzie had been practically begging to go on a mission - any mission, no matter how small - she was gonna be his partner. He hadn’t complained - they’d always had some psycho-synergy, and not just because ice is just frozen water.
“Strictly off-the-record, I suspect Li-... Agent Natividad simply wants to get away from the Motherlobe,” Norma had commented. “Old habits die hard, I suppose.”
Raz said nothing.
His mind returning to the present, he looked just a little to his right, catching sight of another dossier. The one that completely turned the whole mission upside-down. He hadn’t even come to Osaka with this file, he had to get it faxed (faxed!) from the Motherlobe the day before, after he’d learned of its subject running around stealing memories for the Tetsuo.
This photograph was a lot blurrier, clearly taken at a distance. It was an indistinct figure, wearing a hoodie and a large scarf that covered their face in shadow and cotton. Looked almost like a thrift store ninja.
NAME: UNKNOWN
KNOWN ALIASES: THE BAKU
AGE: UNKNOWN
GENDER: UNKNOWN
PSYCHIC?: YES
PSI POWERS: CONFUSION, PSI-BLAST, TELEKINESIS, INVISIBILITY, ELECTROKINESIS (UNCONFIRMED)
#6 on the Psychonauts’ Most Wanted list. Prolific Thought Thief. Free agent, known to associate with multiple criminal organizations. Works for the highest bidder.
Preferred MO: immobilize target with Confusion to lower mental defences, steal target secrets via Mental Penetration Infiltration. Prefers to avoid direct confrontations. Approach with caution.
They’d already caught Mr. Sensou, who was currently held in custody in a safehouse on the other side of the city, but he was one of those old-school Yakuza types who valued honour and loyalty to the family, and on top of that, he’d armoured his mind pretty well for a non-psychic. Getting the intel they needed out of him would probably take days of grueling interrogation, during which time a Matango-fuelled storm of destruction could happen. Baku, meanwhile, was a hired gun: as good as they were, their only loyalty was to number one. The only problem was catching them.
Raz pored over the file for a good fifteen minutes more; eventually he felt bad for making Lizzie wait and continued to pore over it as he headed downstairs to the hotel restaurant.
There he found her sitting by the window, eating a bowl of udon noodles with chicken and egg, and a glass of beer to wash it down. Sutamina Udon, he’d guess. She’s all about the protein.
Between growing up in a traveling circus and spending more time than most around Compton ‘Ram It Down’ Boole and Helmut ‘Sense Freak’ Fullbear, he liked to think his second-best non-psychic ability - after his acrobatics - was his sophisticated palate. He even stifled a chuckle when he noticed she was eating it with a fork, her chopsticks left untouched next to the bowl. It was a folding fork, too - the kind you can buy for five bucks at a camping supply store - which means she must have brought it with her.
“Yanno, I could teach you how to use those,” he idly pointed in the chopsticks’ direction as he sat down opposite her, choosing to ignore the fact she was drinking on the job. “Cassie O’Pia herself taught me. I’d be more than happy to pass on her wisdom.”
“Egh,” Lizzie didn’t look up from her food, instead making a weird grunting noise that reminded Raz of a grouchy gorilla.
They were briefly interrupted by a waiter who came to ask if Raz wanted anything. “Just a glass of water” he said, more to occupy himself than because he was thirsty.
“Forget my cutlery, dude,” Lizzie said as he left, “you’ve been tryin’ to mind-read that inanimate object for-fucking-ever,” she gestured to Baku’s file. “Is this some new kinda -phony you’ve invented, or have ya finally lost it?”
“Eh, probably the latter,” Raz answered, without missing a beat.
“Good to know. Well, once you’re done pulling an Oleander, can you please fill me in on your stupid plan that’s gonna land us both in a world of pain?”
Raz folded his arms and looked away, feigning indignation. “Yanno, you can still quit if ya want. Quitter. Quitty Hates-Difficulty Na-quittin’-time.”
“Oh shut up, you overgrown li’l shit. Never said it wasn’t worth it.”
He hardened his expression. “Seriously, Lizzie, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We’re partners, not handler and… handlee. If you’re worried about Norma, just go back to base and tell her you tried to stop me. I won’t mind.”
“Psh, and let you be the loose cannon without me? Fat fucking chance.”
Raz couldn’t help but crack a little smile. Appeal to her pride, works every time.
“Alrighty then…” he said, finally putting the folder down.
The waiter returned with Raz’s water. “Arigatou,” he thanked him, and as soon as the waiter was gone, the Hydrokinetic wasted no time idly making it swirl around in the glass, spilling it out the side and crawling back up again, keeping his mind off the rain-static. It was at this point the water became oddly solid, like it was freezing over. He looked past the water and into Lizzie’s eyes. She’d stopped eating and her expression became more and more intense by the second.
“...Um, yeah?” she said, slowly.
It was then he noticed she, again, hadn’t put on anything waterproof. In this weather. This could not be allowed to pass without comment.
“Step one, Agent Gothic Commando puts on a nice waterproof coat…”
“POOTER!” she spat. Literally, sprayed noodle broth on him.
“I’m just saying, even if you are a Cryo, it can’t be comfortable just wearing a tank top in this weather,” he said as he wiped the specks of broth off his bomber jacket.
“That’s rich comin’ from the dude who thinks goggles and fucking snakeskin bell-bottoms are something normal everyday people wear.”
“Hey, it says on the file that Baku’s a Confusion specialist! These goggles have saved my life at least three times!” He paused, defensively glancing down at his trousers, “And don’t knock the bell-bottoms, either. They draw the eyes up towards my well-sculpted chest,” he joked, waggling his eyebrows to sell it further.
“Whatever, stringbean” Lizzie waved it off and went back to her noodles, not even pretending to be amused.
She wasn’t wrong to call him a stringbean, Raz hated to admit - they’d both come a long way from the gawky kids they’d been fifteen years ago, but Raz did most of his growth upward, having the same acrobat’s build as his father. Lizzie meanwhile was built more like a weightlifter, and always wore tops that showed off her muscular arms. She even had a bit of a potbelly now. Something about needing to conserve body heat when working with so much ice.
“Anyway,” she said, cutting off that mental tangent, “plan. Please. For the love of God.”
“Right, right…” Raz took a deep breath, going over the half-assed cliff notes framework of a plan he’d managed to scrape together from the past hour or so of brainstorming. He leaned over and lowered his voice, since they were still supposed to be undercover, even if they didn’t look it.
“Let’s go over the facts,” he said, holding out a hand to count off each step, “we know that Mr. Sensou intended to meet with Baku to provide payment for ‘services rendered’, going from the briefcase of 13 million Yen he had on him. We know he accounted for the possibility he might be betrayed, which explains why he chose to meet in such a public place - plenty of witnesses that way, and handing over a briefcase isn’t a crime. So we don’t rock the boat. I go in, use my IllusoGuise to assume his appearance, and hand over the money as agreed - skimming one note off the top, through which I can establish a Clairvoyant link. Then we locate Baku’s hideout, and enact Phase Two.”
“I see… and what’s Phase Two?”
“We’ll make that part up as we go.”
Lizzie chuckled. “That’s half a plan if I ever heard one.”
Raz just shrugged. “Well, yanno what Agent Vodello always says-”
“You got to rrrrrroll with it, darling!” Lizzie interrupted with her best (worst?) impression of Milla. “Yeah yeah, I know. I’m startin’ to see who your favourite senior agent is. Don’t worry, I won’t tell Sasha,” she looked at him with a smirk.
Raz didn’t take the bait - just sat back and found himself playing with his water again. He was in the middle of forming it into the shape of a snarling grizzly bear when he noticed that Lizzie had, again, stopped eating - this time she looked out the window, with that scrunched-up face she does when she’s thinking hard about something.
“So what if we screw this up?” she finally asked. “I mean, no offence, but you said yourself your IllusoGuise is still kind of a work in progress, so there’s a non-zero chance we’re gonna screw this up. Then we’ll have to deal with a psychic criminal in a public-ass place, which we kinda don’t want. And I could really do without another lecture from my sister, like we’re still fucking interns…”
‘Bad enough that she’s turned into my dad since becoming Second Head’ she let a thought slip out. Raz caught it, but chose not to address it. Probably not the time or place.
“Don’t worry about the disguise, I’ve been workshopping it with Agent Fullbear. If it can fool him, it can fool anyone. But… yeah, I won’t lie. If we screw it up, things might get ugly. Baku will probably run - they’re a thief, not a fighter - but we don’t know what they’re capable of. Who knows what they’ll do if backed into a corner?”
Raz let the water form into a little tendril and petted it like one would pet a kitten, starting to sound almost pleading. “But… that’s kinda why we need to do this. I mean, besides the mission. Who knows how many lives Baku has ruined by stealing secrets and selling them off? How many they’ll ruin in the future if we don’t stop them? If we let ‘em go now, will we ever get another opportunity?”
“I gotcha. Needs of the many, right?” Lizzie suggested, gesturing with her fork. “Endanger a dozen people over here to save two dozen over there.”
The little water-tendril drooped and slowly slithered back into its glass. Raz almost felt his heart sink, hearing Lizzie speak of sacrifice so… nonchalantly, like it was only a fact of the job. There was a time she- no, any of them wouldn’t dream of doing that.
“I… I don’t like thinking of it that way, but… yeah.”
There was a lull in the conversation. Lizzie awkwardly shifted in her seat. He got the feeling she realized how much things had changed for them, too.
“Aw, man. Now I kinda feel like shit,” she admitted. “Sorry ‘bout that.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Raz always got uncomfortable when this topic came up - this brutal utilitarianism. It went against his very core, his belief that you should always try to save everyone, even when it seems impossible. But it was true.
He wasn’t kidding about Baku, either - he’d dealt with several Thought Thieves before, and they were all the same. Grifters with no respect for boundaries. Some made a huge deal about being like Robin Hood, how some thoughts needed to be exposed. Some even asked what the difference was between them and the Psychonauts. The difference, of course, was that the Psychonauts only unearthed thoughts and secrets when strictly necessary, not at the whim of the highest bidder, and not blundering around with no understanding of the consequences. That wasn’t even mentioning the Thought Thieves who believed their powers entitled them to the right to treat others as books to be read or toys to be played with, not caring about the damage that did to all the trust and goodwill that psychics had steadily built up over fifty agonizing years.
He thought of the countless times people treated psychics as monsters. Of all the stories his family told him, back when they thought they were cursed. Of how Cal got lobotomized as a child. And then he thought of psychics like Baku, abusing their powers for the already-powerful, making them into nothing more than weapons and validating the fearful. It made him sick.
“Why do they call ‘em Baku, anyway?” Lizzie asked, bringing Raz out of his thoughts, “isn’t that like… a tapir, or something?”
“It’s a youkai, a creature from Japanese mythology. Looks kinda like a tapir with tusks,” Raz answered. He leaned forward on the table and intently looked at his glass of water, manipulating it to take the rough shape of what he imagined it’d look like.
“It’s said to feed on bad dreams - kids would summon it to stave off nightmares. But it couldn’t discriminate between flavours. A dream’s a dream, and if your nightmares didn’t satisfy it, it’d eat all your hopes and ambitions, too, until you’re only a shell of your former self.”
“Yikes… guess that figures,” Lizzie paused. “...Wasn’t there a Pocket Critter based on it?”
“I think so, yeah.”
She paused again to take a long swig of her beer, letting stray droplets stream down her neck and placing it back on the table with a ‘thump’. She wiped her mouth.
“Always knew it was one creepy pendejo.”