Chapter Text
Razputin Aquato always loved visiting Whispering Rock; after all these years, the place still held so many fond memories. He owed so much to this place, after all - it was where he'd taken the first steps to becoming a Psychonaut. His whole life had changed because of this camp, and he made sure to visit every once in a while. Not only for sentimental reasons, either, no. Raz had been mentoring at Whispering Rock since he was sixteen and a junior counselor, helping train up other young psychics just like Sasha, Milla, and Ford had done for him.
It had taken him years, in his childhood, to really start training his powers. Sure, he'd taught himself to levitate stuff behind the caravan of his family's traveling circus, but he hadn't been very good at it when he'd arrived at Whispering Rock, a runaway and a trespasser. But the Psychonauts had taken him in anyway, had trained him in powers he'd never been able to embrace back home. He only saw it fit, of course, to return the favor. After all, while these kids might not be circus runaways like he'd been, you never knew where they came from, and every psychic - no matter their age, no matter their skills - deserved to be confident in their powers, and in who they were.
Though a lot had changed in his family since the old days, his dad had tried to stamp out his powers, had tried to keep him from developing any psychic abilities no matter how naturally they came to him. That wasn't how it worked, of course, and Augustus Aquato had been forced to face the music eventually. There were psychics in their family, and it wasn't a bad thing. As Raz had grown older, he sort of understood where his dad had been coming from. Augustus watched his whole family die to the water, when he was younger, the terrible fate of a family cursed by fortune tellers.
Augustus had thought he was doing good by his family.
Razputin had met so many kids over the years, teaching at Whispering Rock, and he couldn't help but wonder how many of their parents thought the same thing.
That's why he came back, every year. Ever since he'd graduated from being a Junior Psychonaut, he'd been one of the agency's best and brightest. A psychic sponge, eager and willing to learn everything he could about the world he'd once been so desperate to be a part of, and exceptionally talented in both psychic powers and physical prowess. He knew he didn't need to be coming down to Whispering Rock every summer to teach a bunch of kids not to explode the squirrels, and his coworkers liked to remind him of that fact, too. But He did it because he'd been sitting right where each and every one of these kids sat now, staring up at him with wide eyes as he showed off a little, his one-handed handstand slowly raising into the air to dazzle a bunch of ten year olds, because - well, you know what they say! You can take the boy out of the circus, and all that...
He grinned, levitating a good five feet above their heads as they all watched with rapt attention.
"Levitation looks really scary and complicated," he tells them, smoothly rolling into a front flip so that his feet were back where they were supposed to be, "but it's all about letting yourself feel the vibe! Confidence is key with levitation, and especially knowing that if you fall down, you can get right back up!" The bottom of his boots touched back down on the grass in front of the mess hall, where he was teaching. Milla still used the dock, and Sasha... well, these kids weren't ready for Sasha just yet, let's put it that way.
He grinned down at the small gaggle of young psychics, hands planted firmly on his hips as his own levitation brought him back safely to the ground. He was a far cry from the scrawny ten-year-old who'd needed to use a levitation ball like a set of training wheels. He was a professional now, thank you very much! And pushing twenty-five, to boot! He was sure that Norma and Lizzie would never let him live it down if they found out he'd broke out the old levitation ball again, and he wasn't taking any chances.
"Alright," he said, surveying the class. There was one kid, a spunky eight year old little girl who was constantly covered in dirt, who he was sure would jump at the chance to try levitation. Anything to make climbing the trees around camp easier. "Before we begin, does anyone have any questions?"
One kid raised their hand, wide-eyed with a gaze that bore into him with the intensity of a psy-blast. Jeeze, kid. "Uh - yes?"
"Is it true?" They asked.
Okay. So they were gonna play that game. No big deal, Raz had taught enough kids to roll with the non-sequitur. After all - with all of his adventures across all his time with the Psychonauts, and with so many of them having been published (with minimal embellishment!) in True Psychic Tales magazine, this wasn't the first time one of his students let their curiosity get the better of them "Maybe," he said slyly, a grin creeping onto his face. "What do you wanna know about?"
"Did you know The Deluge?"
His smile dropped so fast it nearly made a sound, and he felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over his head - a hilarious prank, usually, but this time...
He cleared his throat, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He feels a cool, round shape. It fit into the palm of his hand as though being nestled there was the only purpose the glass had been blown for. "Next question," he said, his voice more clipped and hurried than he would have liked.
Another kid raised their hand, and Raz's attention was immediately - and thank God - pulled towards the next young psychic as he gives a nod. "You!"
"Well? Did you?"
Raz bit back a grimace, his fingers closing around the glass. "Does anyone else have any questions?" He asked through nearly-gritted teeth, his jaw tight and his air of cool showmanship crumbling like a sandcastle at high tide.He felt his shoulders sag involuntarily as he watched the rest of their kids, with near-perfect coordination, raise their hands. They all lit up, and Raz didn't need to read their minds to know what each and every one of them wanted to ask.
He sighed, and shook the tension from his shoulders, looking out across the small class of students.
"I did know her. We... crossed paths. Here at Whispering Rock."
The chaos was instant. Intrigue burst forth from the group that left him as dizzy as a confusion bomb, and cries of "what was she like?" and "did you fight her?" cut through the air like knives he was meant to dodge. Raz patted the air, trying to reign in their attention. "Alright, alright," he said, over the sudden din of chatter. "Settle down. It's... she wasn't... she wasn't always The Deluge."
The whispers lapsed into silence, the notion hanging uncomfortably over the group, and he worries at his lip as he tries to pick his way through the rubble of this lesson.
"You didn't know she was evil? Couldn't you... read her mind, or something?" One of the kids asked.
"When she came to Whispering Rock, she was... just like you guys, actually. Trying to control her powers," he explained. "She came to the Psychonauts for help, and... we... thought she wanted to be taught."