Comics/Doodles For Fun and Relaxation @crystalcatsmain - Tumblr Blog

[ID: A Psychonauts 2 fic cover featuring Oleander and Loboto. Loboto is lying on the examination table in Sasha's lab, pushing himself slightly upright with his prosthetic arm so he can glare at Oleander. Oleander, meanwhile, is sitting on top of Loboto, arms crossed as he glares back down at Loboto (though his false eye is out of focus). The title of the fic, Dentist-Sitting, is above them. /end ID]

Fandom: Psychonauts Rating: K Genre: Humor (but some serious moments too) Characters: Morceau Oleander & Caligosto Loboto (with Sasha and a few others appearing briefly) Warnings: None. Fic Description: While everyone else heads off on the much-more-exciting casino mission, Oleander is left at the Motherlobe with a mission of his own: keep an eye on Loboto while Sasha is gone. Beta Readers: @jaywings and @pinkygrocket (also thanks to @eggityeggs for rendering my fic cover!) Notes: I tweaked the layout of the Motherlobe slightly here. (You cannot convince me they have only one bathroom.) Also, this contains references to some of my other Psychonauts fics, but you don't need to have read those to understand this.

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Oleander charged through the atrium as he made a beeline for the lobby. It wasn't time to leave just yet, but he didn’t care. When was the last time he'd gotten to go on a mission—er, aside from earlier today, when he'd helped infiltrate Loboto's mind, and before that, when he'd gone with everyone to the Rhombus? Those had felt like exceptions—Sasha and Milla still wanted to keep a close eye on him while they finalized things at headquarters, so he had to come along. Not that he complained. Heck, if this probation thing meant he'd have to get dragged along on missions, then it couldn't be too bad, right?

Of course, Sasha and Millla hadn't exactly gotten everything cleared with Truman and Forsythe yet, given the more pressing mole situation. Bad as that was, could anyone blame him for jumping at the bit to see some real action again? And this would be the real deal if they let him come along, not just dragging him along because they had to. If Forsythe didn't show up—which she wouldn't—he'd get to step in and take her place!

Hurrying out the front door, he turned toward where the jet was parked, only to skid to a halt.

Forsythe was there, along with all the interns.

"...and I thought, you know what, Agent Vodello was right!" Agent Forsythe exclaimed. She was far more peppy than usual, and he couldn't blame her. "This would be an excellent earning—uh, learning opportunity for our interns!"

"I agree. So long as they stay out of trouble, there should be little issue here," Sasha said with a nod. "I'm glad you're joining us."

As Forsythe turned to guide the interns onto the jet, Sasha prepared to enter as well. Oleander bit his lip and rushed up to Sasha before the jet could pull him in.

"Room for one more?" he asked, punctuating his words with a smile.

"Ah, Morry." Sasha turned to face him. "Agent Forsythe changed her mind and will be accompanying us on the mission, so your presence won't be necessary."

Oleander's heart sank, and he swallowed back the old bitterness that worked its way up his throat. "...Right. Well uh... good luck, Nein." With that, he began to turn back toward headquarters.

"...Actually."

And Oleander spun on his heels, eyes wide and heart leaping.

Sasha was looking to the side with one hand to his temple, probably in conversation with Milla. After a moment, he nodded, then looked back at Oleander. "There is something we could use your help with."

"You name it!" Oleander cried, a wide grin stretching past his mustache. "What do you need me for—need an extra agent to spy on someone? Need me to stick around for backup? I'm there!"

"As I said before, your presence won't be required here."

Oleander's smile dropped.

"However—"

And he perked up again, leaning toward Sasha eagerly.

"There's something I would like your assistance with here at the Motherlobe."

"Oh." Once again Oleander deflated, but pointed toward Otto's lab with a grin. "I mean, if you need help with the Motherlobe's defense system, I'm sure Otto and I could—"

"I need someone to keep an eye on Loboto while I'm gone."

"Wait—that's it?!" Oleander cried. "You're putting me on babysitting duty?!"

"I am putting you in charge of a dangerous criminal who happens to be one of the few people to possess knowledge of the mole's identity." Sasha massaged his forehead. "I sedated him for the time being, but there's no guarantee it will last for the entirety of my absence, and I have found no one willing to watch him while I'm gone."

"Ugh. Still not a particularly glamorous—"

"Morry, this is not about glamour." Sasha took a step closer, and Oleander took a step back in surprise. "People's lives are at stake. We still have yet to determine what's happened to Truman, and we may not know until we discover the identity of this criminal."

"R-right, yeah." Oleander tugged at one of his gloves. "Sorry, just got caught up in the—" He shook himself, straightening his stance. "Very well! I accept this mission, Agent Nein. I'll keep an eye on him."

"Good." Sasha put a hand to his temple again, and a telekinetic hand reached out from the ship. "Be sure to report to me if you learn anything from him, should he awaken or say anything of interest in his sleep." The hand grabbed him, carrying him up and into the jet. "Good luck, Morry."

"Same to you, Nein."

Oleander offered a salute before turning back toward the Motherlobe. As the jet lifted off behind him, he heaved a sigh, glancing over his shoulder to watch it go.

So much for that mission… and that reasonably-priced buffet.

His stomach growled.

"Well, Noodle Bowl it is, then."

Stepping into headquarters with much less energy than when he'd left, he made his way back to the atrium and then to the Motherlobe's cafeteria. His mind bounced back and forth over what kind of salad he wanted today as his eyes scanned the menu. Briefly, he tried to recall which one Milla had recommended to him a while back, only for his mind to drift back to Sasha, wondering if he'd bothered to eat before the mission. Probably not, knowing him.

...Which probably meant Loboto hadn't eaten either.

"You gonna order or what?"

Oleander blinked, realizing he was at the front of the line. "Er, yes! One cucumber salad, and uh..." He glanced over the menu again—his eyes lingered on the salads before hesitantly drifting over to the other items on the menu. He winced. "And one hamburger. Two waters."

As the chef watched him slide his card through the reader, she raised her brow at him. "Change your diet, now, Oleander?"

"No, no," he replied, waving his hands in protest. "Just picking up lunch for um... someone else."

"Right, got it..."

Not long after, he found himself carrying a plastic salad box with a greasy cardboard hamburger box placed on top, and holding them at an arm's length while he carried the waterbottles under one of his arms. "Eeeughh," he said, tongue sticking out and nose wrinkling at the scent of greasy ground beef. He'd never actually seen Loboto eat, even when the two of them worked together, but he hoped this would be good enough for him. If not, he'd have to deal with it—he wasn't paying for some other crummy meal.

He nearly stepped into his office before remembering where he was supposed to go, and turned to Sasha's lab instead. The various fancy blinking consoles—half of which he was pretty sure Sasha didn't even use—greeted him, as did the loud snores coming from the lanky figure on the examining table.

"Huh," Oleander murmured, stepping up to Loboto to look him over. He was curled up on his side, out like a light for all Oleander could tell—his creepy robot eyes were definitely unlit, anyway—and his snores were occasionally broken up by incoherent mumbling.

After standing by the doctor for a few moments to be sure he wasn't suddenly going to spring awake, Oleander made his way into Sasha's office area, tossing the hamburger box and one of the water bottles onto the coffee table. The box left a splat of grease beneath it, and he winced, nudging it further away with his own water bottle. He took a seat on the couch, eyeing the greasy box as though expecting it to sprout legs, and scooted slightly further away. From there he began to dig into his salad—cucumber was definitely the right choice—as he kept an ear out for whatever Loboto was doing. Which was still sawing logs. Was he really just going to be out for the entire time? What on earth did Sasha use on him, anyway? Man, he should have brought a book or something...

As Oleander finished the last few bites of his meal, he heard a few quick snorts from the lab, followed by some more frantic mumbling. Setting his empty box aside, he stepped back into the lab, eyeing Loboto.

"No, no no. I won't," the oversized dentist mumbled, one of his legs jerking in his sleep. "I won't, I won't..."

Sasha had said something about Loboto talking in his sleep, hadn't he? "You won't what?" Oleander prodded, raising an eyebrow.

"Won't tell..."

"Ugh, of course you won't." Rolling his eyes, Oleander turned back toward the office.

"W-won't tell them... what the doctors said..."

"What?" Oleander spun back around, brow furrowed in confusion.

But Loboto only shuddered before settling back into snores.

Doctors, huh? That was new. He made a mental note to let Sasha know later, if he didn't already... not yet, though. Oleander stepped closer. "What did the doctors say?"

Loboto snorted. "No, no... Dad said I couldn't tell..."

All right, so it wasn't anything about the mole or the kidnapping—this was just some dream about a childhood memory. Nothing useful for him.

I'll show you what little bunnies are used for—

Oleander jerked in surprise, smacking himself in the head a few times. Nope, no, none of that. He was definitely done with those nightmares and he didn't need his mind reminding him of them. It didn't stop his heart from hammering against his ribs, and he shook his head, hurrying back to the office to grab his bottle of water. He guzzled it down, hopefully swallowing his anxiety with it.

"No, no, no, get away—AH!"

CRASH.

Hacking up water that had just gone down the wrong pipe, Oleander stumbled back into the lab, finding Loboto lying face-first on the floor next to the examining table and groaning. "Geez," Oleander wheezed, and cleared his throat. "You gotta make my job harder for me, don't you?" With that, he gently TK'd Loboto back onto the table, letting him sit upright.

Loboto swayed where he sat, optics flickering and moving sluggishly, zooming in and out, but ultimately remaining unlit. Without warning, he reached up and smacked his own robotic eyes a few times, and they finally flickered on, like Christmas lights attached to a Halloween decoration. They adjusted a few more times before locking onto Oleander. "You?" Loboto cried. His voice was slightly slurred. "What're you comin' back to me for? I'm not buildin' you anoth'r tank..."

"Take it easy, Cal, I'm just here to watch you."

"Watch me what...?" His eyes darted in one direction, then another, his head lagging behind with the movement. "I don't have a patient for the... operating theater..." He swayed again where he sat, looking in danger of toppling back over the side of the table again.

Boy, he had not signed up to deal with a half-drugged dentist. Was this a side-effect of whatever Sasha had used on him, or...?

Something occurred to Oleander, and he rushed back into the office, returning with the greasy box and water bottle, which he set on the examining table.

Loboto's eyes locked onto the items. "What's this?"

"Some rations," Oleander replied. "When's the last time you ate?"

For a moment the dentist's eyes began moving around again, crossing a few times as he tried to process the question. "Orange," he finally said with a definitive nod.

Oleander was about to protest that that wasn't what he'd meant, but stopped himself; there wasn't much of a point in arguing with someone who could barely hold a conversation at the moment. "Well, this is lunch. Have at it."

Hesitantly, Loboto reached out with his claws, poking the box a few times before the lid popped open. His optics zoomed in on the hamburger. "...not fish, is it?"

"Uh, no. It's a hamburger, not a fishburg—"

Loboto shoved the entire thing into his mouth before Oleander could finish. He looked away, holding his hands in front of his face as he listened to Loboto ravenously chomp the thing down. "You're welcome," he grumbled. "You'd better not make yourself sick from eating that so fast, or Sasha will have my head."

Once Loboto had guzzled his water down, Oleander finally looked back at him. He seemed somewhat more alert now, whether from receiving nourishment, or said nourishment helping him wake up from his goodness-knows-what-induced daze. Or maybe both. "Feeling any better there, Cal?"

"No. This place has terrible room service! I never got breakfast. Terrible room in general, too." He whacked his prosthetic limb against the padded table with a thunk. "No wonder I fell off this thing."

Maybe it would've been better if he'd stayed unconscious. "Well, you're not exactly here for your own comfort."

"Oh, are you here to interrogate me, too?" His claw gripped the thin padding of the table, digging into it. "I never said a word to that nicotine-addicted ninny. What makes you think I'll talk to you, little army man?"

"I'm not here to interrogate you, just to keep an eye on you." Oleander paused, rubbing his chin. "Though that's not a bad idea. I could ask you a few questions—"

"Or I could just make a run for it." And Loboto swung around to leap off the other side of the table, only to faceplant yet again. He smacked his hand against the floor. "Stop makin' the room spin."

Rolling his eyes, Oleander TK'd Loboto back onto the table, laying him down this time. "That wasn't me. Looks like you've been Sasha's guinea pig of the day."

Loboto's optics spun in slow circles for a few moments before coming back into focus. "Yes. I think we've got the positions wrong," he said, pushing himself into a seated position. "I'm not the subject. I'm the one who runs the experiments!"

"Not now you ain't," Oleander said, gently nudging Loboto back down onto the table with a telekinetic poke. "Lie down."

"Nnnghh!" Loboto flailed his arms, trying uselessly to grab at the transparent hand holding him down. "No! I won't! You're due for a wisdom tooth pulling!"

A vision flashed through his mind of those red-and-green lights gleaming down at him from the darkness while a claw brandished at him. Are you actually going to help me with this project or am I going to have to test it on you instead?

Oleander’s TK hand grabbed Loboto around the chest, yanking him off the table with a choked squawk. Oleander kept one hand held out in a fist, the other on his temple as he eyed the dentist. "You gonna cooperate here, or are we gonna do things the hard way?"

Loboto glared down at him, eyes flashing.

"We're not partners anymore, Cal," he growled. "I don't gotta put up with you."

Loboto flinched, but remained quiet. Oleander eased him back onto the table, where he lay calmly, even when Oleander removed the hand. After nodding in approval, he turned around, TKing a desk chair from Sasha's office over to the table—like heck he was going to stand here the entire time.

As he pulled the chair over, it struck him suddenly that, while no, he and Loboto weren't working together now, they had in the past. As in three days ago. Technically, Oleander hadn't even heard an official decision for what the Psychonauts would do with him, after all that he'd done—which was, namely, working with a criminal, abducting both campers and his fellow agents, hypnotizing a civilian (and a fish), and stealing brains in an attempt to take over the world. Now, he'd been left to watch over the very criminal he'd been working with only a few days ago.

Had this been a mistake? Or was Sasha...

"Were you satisfied with the tanks, at least?"

Flashes of a monstrous tank of plant and stone roared into his memory, and he spun around to glare at Loboto. That wasn't the tank the dentist was referring to, but after Nein, Vodello, Cruller, and Raz had all dragged him through his mental worlds, well...

"I'm not talkin' about that right now."

Lifting his head, Loboto's permanent grin widened. "You should've gone with my original plan. That would've been much more effective."

"Yeah, I said I'm not talkin' about it." He hopped up onto the desk chair, his gaze fixed on one of the flickering consoles on the other side of the room.

"You could at least talk about payment. You never paid me my last paycheck. Or the one before that. Or any of them." Loboto's claw dug into the padding of the table again. "You think we just grow food at the asylum?"

"What asylum?" Oleander muttered bitterly, glancing back at him.

Loboto's grin suddenly twisted. "Oh. I'd forgotten it had gone down in flames." His optics began to flick around the room nervously.

Oleander opened his mouth, nearly asking how Loboto knew about that when it had happened after he'd been blasted out the window, but cut himself off—he didn't want the guy to think that had been anything to do with him (though the plan had been to... be rid of Loboto in some fashion). "Yeah, was a heck of a battle there," he said instead. "What happened to you, anyway? Why'd you run off?"

"What do you take me for, one of those tumorous rats that scurry away from bright light?" His eyes snapped over to Oleander. "I was blasted out the window by the test tank!"

Leaning back, Oleander raised his brows and placed a hand on his chest in hopes of looking as though this was his first time hearing that information. "Blasted out the window?" he repeated in the best shocked voice he could muster. "How'd you survive that?"

The corners of Loboto's mouth twitched. "Oh, I have plenty of talents other than dentistry and brain surgery, you know... some that can surprise even me."

"Was it your talents? Or that other client you didn't tell me about?"

"Oh no you don't!" Loboto crossed his arms, turning his head away. "I'm not talking about that!"

"Yeah, and I don't want to talk about our work either." Oleander grunted, leaning back in the chair. "Guess we're even."

The two were silent for a moment, aside from the twitching of Loboto's mechanical eyes. Slowly they turned to look back at Oleander. "...Where's that tall man gone, anyway?"

"Sasha?" Oleander shrugged. "He's out on a mission."

"Oh?" Loboto eased himself up on his arms, grinning again. "You mean like the kind of missions you told me they liked to leave you behind on?"

Oleander's hands clenched around the edges of the chair.

"Isn't that the reason for your whole take-over-the-world scheme? Getting left out?"

He wasn't wrong. It hadn't been the entire reason, but it was... part of it. "We're getting it worked out," he said through grit teeth.

"Yes, by continuing to do the same thing to you as before!" Loboto cried, sitting up on the table. The action made his optics spin for a moment, but he shook himself. "Sounds like you've been tossed back to square one."

"I haven't been tossed anywhere."

"Anywhere other than aside!" Loboto swung out his arm. "Tossed aside like a used plastic cup!"

"Pipe down, Cal!" Oleander snapped, but the dentist only turned to swing his legs over the edge of the table, leaning forward.

"You know, if we were to, perhaps, sneak out of here and work together again, I could help you—"

Loboto was held in a telekinetic hand again before Oleander realized he'd even summoned it. He found himself in a psychic stance atop the desk chair, glaring at the dentist as he held him firmly in his telekinetic grip. Apparently it was a bit tighter than he'd intended, as Loboto was struggling now, eyes darting around frantically and mouth twisting, but Oleander didn't loosen his grip just yet.

He wanted to tell him no. He wanted to tell him he'd never consider an offer like that again, never even think of betraying everyone again.

But he'd be dowsed if the thought didn't cross his mind after Forsythe took his place on the mission.

It was that same feeling as before, when he'd put in requests for a mission assignment and be told no, that he'd be assigned camp duty again. When he'd be assured just how important camp duty was, how he was better suited for it. When he brought up other ideas, like the projects he'd brainstorm with Otto, or even the blueprints for the battle bot he'd drawn up to fight Maligula, and Forsythe turned him down.

In the back of his throat he could still taste the bitterness bubbling up, threatening to spill out all over again.

But it hadn't been that long ago that he'd been dragged back through his own mind, and they'd talked through all of this, talked through everything, and this wasn't really the answer, and he knew it wasn't, but he just wanted to help, he just wanted to be able to help again—

Slowly he became aware of a choking noise, and snapped back to reality to find Loboto still in his telekinetic grip, his face turning pale. "GEEZ!" Oleander cried, reeling back, remembering too late he was stupidly standing on a chair.

Oleander crashed backward the same moment he released Loboto, who dropped back down onto the table, gasping for air. "OKAY!" Loboto choked out. "Okay, you don't want to be partners! I get it!"

Groaning, Oleander pushed himself back up to his feet. "Yeah, uh, thanks for the offer, Cal, but no." When he looked back at Loboto, he was surprised to see the dentist wrapping his arms around himself and trembling. Embarrassed, he scratched the back of his head. "Sorry, didn't mean to grab you that hard."

"I'm sure!" Loboto glared down at him. "Well, it's no loss for me. I wouldn't want to work with a sneaky psychic short stack like you again, anyway!"

Oleander glared back. "Now hang on, just 'cuz you're so freakishly tall doesn't mean—"

"Silly small simpletons ceaselessly see to stupid schemes!" he went on in a sing-song voice.

Oleander dragged his hands down his face. Why had he let this guy wake up? "Knock it off," he muttered.

In response, Loboto flicked the greasy hamburger box across the room to smack into his face.

With a cry of revulsion, Oleander wiped at his face and shot another look at Loboto. "You know that's not what I meant!"

"Oops, sorry." Loboto chucked the empty water bottle instead, which bounced harmlessly off Oleander's helmet.

He gave the dentist a deadpan look. "...I can see why Sasha had such a hard time finding anyone else to watch you." Sighing, he climbed back onto the chair.

"It's no surprise! I'm quite the intimidating person." Which wasn't a lie, but Loboto looked less intimidating as he kicked his feet, the heels of his freakishly long legs scraping the ground. It was a far cry from how he'd appeared at Thorney Towers, or how he must have looked to Raz when he—

Oleander paused. "...Hey, didn't that kid poke around your head?"

Immediately Loboto whipped his arms over his head, pressing his shower cap down. "No more of that," he growled. "You should be next, though, since you apparently forgot you were one of the ones who charged into my mind too!"

"No, I mean back at the Rhombus. I gave him the Psycho-Portal to use." He narrowed his eyes at Loboto, looking him over. "He dove into your mind, and we lost contact. What-all happened in there?"

"No!" Loboto snapped, drawing his legs back up onto the table as he tugged on his shower cap. "It's none of your business!"

"Hate to tell you, Cal,"—he didn't—"but it's official Psychonauts business."

"Ah!" Loboto slammed his hand and prosthetic down onto the table again, giving him a sly grin. "But you're not one of those at the moment, are you?"

"Wh—I never said that!" Oleander clenched his fists. "Where do you get that from?"

"Mmmmaybe the fact that you were left out of an official Psychonauts mission!" He casually dug between his teeth with one of his claws. "Just a hunch."

Oleander ground his teeth, finding himself wondering if it was too late to find someone else he could switch with. Yes, he was technically supposed to be evaluated before getting put on probation for a while, but that wasn't anything this bozo needed to hear about.

Dislodging a sesame seed from between two teeth, Loboto flicked it away and then gently tugged at his lip in thought. "Funny how they'd let a traitor like you back into their fold. But I suppose you can't fault psychics for acting erratically." His mouth twitched.

The word traitor hit him in the gut harder than the dismissal of psychics, and he found himself looking away. "Look, what happened with me ain't none of your business, Cal."

"What happened with me is none of your business, either, but you psychics have this funny misconception that everything is!"

"Maybe not." Oleander rubbed a knuckle against his chin in thought. "But I can't help but notice... you did let us go."

Loboto gave a jolt, his smile strained. "Of course! I can do whatever I want!"

Oleander raised an eyebrow at him. "So you let us go and blow up your own base? Sounds a bit counter to your plans."

"No! It's not!" He wrapped his arms around his chest, his mechanical eyes twitching every which way. "It followed my exact plan very specifically!"

"Really? Your plan for your employer who's working against the Psychonauts?" Oleander asked.

Loboto made a strangled sound, sitting up rigid, his mouth a tight line.

Sitting up, Oleander found himself grinning. Maybe this won't be such a waste of time after all... "Pretty nice of you to let us in on the details of your employer's scheme."

"No! No! I didn't!" Loboto cried, voice suddenly hoarse.

"Sure you didn't," Oleander went on, tapping his helmet. "Just like I don't have a memory vault of what you just said right in my noggin."

"NO! That wasn't it!" Loboto cried desperately. "I didn't say anything about their plan!"

"Sorry, Cal, but that was your own slip-up, there." He placed a hand to his temple to send a message to Sasha. "I'm sure Sasha'll be happy to know—"

"NO! DON'T!" Loboto jumped to his feet, preparing to step toward Oleander, only for his legs to give out on him again. He crashed to his knees, holding his head in his hands and trembling. "It was my idea! Not my client's! It had nothing to do with it! Don't let my client think I said anything, they'll have me drowned...!"

Wincing, Oleander leaned away from the dentist. Part of him almost felt bad for the guy—it would've taken something truly terrifying to scare Loboto like this. "Okay, okay, geez." Gently he TK'd him back onto the table. "Fine, so it wasn't your client's plan. But that just means you let us go on your own."

"Yes! Yes, I did!" he said, nodding vigorously as he began to calm down. "All my idea. Part of a plan beyond your feeble-minded comprehension!" He let out a laugh, sounding slightly unhinged.

"Did your plan also involve you getting captured?"

Loboto grunted. "No. That was part of you psychics ruining everything for me!"

Oleander sighed. "Yeah, sure." Drumming his fingers against the side of the chair, he looked away. "...You don't feel any different, though?"

"I feel a lot worse after what that oversized German celery stalk did to me."

"No." He looked back at Loboto, staring him in his weird robotic eyes. "I mean... after that kid entered your mind."

Whipping his arms around his chest again, Loboto turned his optics away. "I told you, that's not any of your business."

"...All right, fine."

An uncomfortable silence hung between them, only broken by the chirping of computers and the scratching of Loboto's claws against the table's padding.

"I take it he dove into your brains too?"

Startled, Oleander gave a jolt. "Wait, how do you know...?"

"You just told me." Loboto's grin grew a fraction wider, and Oleander groaned internally. "You also seem a bit less keen on the whole taking-over-the-world thing."

"...Yeah." He scratched the back of his head. "I am."

"That's a shame. You were more fun that way."

"I don't care what's fun for you!" Oleander snapped, wishing very much that he would stop remembering how fun it had been to make those tanks, and how fun building stuff was in general, and how Hollis wouldn't fund any of it—

"Ah, so the Psychonauts don't allow any sort of fun." Loboto's optics swirled to take in the room. "What a surprise!"

"I never said that," Oleander grumbled. "Going on missions is fun."

"Which you're not allowed to do!"

"Not right now I'm not. But later."

Loboto tapped his claws against the padding on the table again. "Hmm... I've got a mission for you."

Oleander resisted the urge to run a hand down his face. "I don't think you got the authority to issue those." He leaned his head on his hand, realizing he was bored enough to wonder what on earth Loboto was planning to offer him. "What is it?" he asked, and before Loboto could answer, he added, "No taking-over-the-world business!"

Loboto's face scrunched up in an approximation of a frown. "I wasn't gonna say that! Have a little more faith in me, General!"

"Yep. Sure have reason to do that."

With a grunt, Loboto glanced away. "Take me to the facilities, would you?"

"Which facility?" Oleander raised an eyebrow. "I mean, you're stuck here, but now I'm wonderin' what kinda base you think you could get transf—"

"The facilities, you numbskull!" Loboto snapped.

"Wuh—oh." Oleander rubbed his hand over his face. "You didn't have to word it so dramatically. Some mission..." Shaking his head, he stepped closer to the table. "If you're not good to walk, I'm carrying you."

"No thank you." Slowly Loboto eased himself off the table and onto his feet. "Keep your silly psychic mitts away from me." He was a little unsteady, but not in danger of falling flat on his face like he had earlier.

Well, he'd have to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn't collapse on the way there, but he'd deal with it. "Lucky for you the closest one isn't far off. C'mon, forward march." Waving a hand, he headed toward the doors, and glanced back to make sure Loboto was following. While he was struggling to walk in a straight line, he was walking, so that was good enough for him.

They made it out of the lab and into the hallway, which was clear for the time being. Between some of the other employee offices and the aquarium were the nearest restrooms. "There's an aquarium a bit further down—sure you've seen it when Sasha was hauling you out here," Oleander remarked. He stopped in front of the doorway marked "Restrooms," where three doors (men, women, and family) stood beyond. "Maybe I'll let you take a look at it if you decide to behave and don't—"

Oleander glanced over his shoulder, only to do a double-take and spin completely around. Loboto was nowhere in sight.

"...run off on me."

Okay, he should've seen that one coming. With a growl, he charged further down the hallway, though inwardly his heart pounded at the thought that Loboto really could get away. That would be the end of being in the Psychonauts for him. Fortunately, it didn't take long to find the nine-foot-tall dentist prancing toward the atrium like a lame antelope. One swipe of a TK hand was all it took to snag him, and he let out an enraged squawk.

"Let me go!" Loboto howled, squirming and kicking against the restraints.

"Not on your life," Oleander growled, and hauled him back toward Sasha's lab. "You wouldn't have made it far anyway."

"You don't understand—!" Loboto wailed. "I can't stay here!"

"Wanna bet?" They were back in the lab, now, and Oleander made his way toward the center of the room.

"But when the green man comes back, he's going to keep prodding at my brain until—!"

"Yeah." Oleander plopped him back down onto the table. "That's his job." But looking at Loboto, he found him hunched up again and shivering. Annoying as it was to watch him, he couldn't help feeling a little bad for the guy. "...Look."

Loboto looked up, his arms wrapped around himself, and he looked... almost pitifully scared.

"I get it—you're scared of what's gonna happen." He scratched the back of his head. "I'm... a little scared too, I gotta admit. We both messed up in different ways. But... eh." He rubbed his chin, looking off to the side. "The Psychonauts, as much as I had my issues with them in the past—" (he ignored Loboto's comment of "that was a week ago") "—they're good people. And they really do want to help folks, including people who mess up. Especially people who mess up." Looking back, he found Loboto had calmed somewhat, and was tilting his head at him. "They won't let anything bad happen to ya. So the sooner you're able to tell us what you know, the better."

Loboto's optics turned down to look at the floor, his brow furrowed in contemplation. "...Well," he began, and slowly his eyes turned up to meet Oleander's gaze again. "I suppose I... could tell you something."

Oleander perked up. "Yeah! I mean—of course, you can trust me."

"...Right." He glanced away again. He'd grown incredibly calm, and Oleander was pleased to see he'd finally won his trust. "Of course, this is strictly off the record."

"Of course!"

Loboto looked one way, then another, then leaned in toward Oleander, who struggled to hide his giddiness at the thought that he had learned something before—

"That green fellow is suspicious."

Oleander reeled back. "What? Sasha?!" He frowned, crossing his arms. "You're pullin' my leg!"

"Never!" Loboto exclaimed, placing a hand on his chest. "Are you saying you don't believe me? A-after I've risked so much to tell you this...?"

"Well no, it's just... Sasha?"

"Think about it! I mean, when have you ever heard an accent like that?"

Oleander held up a finger, only to pause. "Well, I uh..."

"Exactly." Loboto gave a smug grin.

"Well... when you put it that way..." Oleander rubbed his chin. "Y'know it is pretty funny how he denied the whole 'necromancy' thing..."

Immediately the dentist went back to fidgeting anxiously. "D-don't tell him I told you anything!"

"It's fine! Your intel's safe with me. Though this makes things a heck of a lot more complicated."

"Well, that's how it is." Loboto frowned, kicking his feet.

It certainly hurt to think about, too, given how Sasha had helped him just a few days ago. How could he betray the Psychonauts like that?

Hearing the door slide open behind him, he jumped and spun around to find Sasha striding into the room.

"Thank you for your help, Morry, but I must be alone in my lab immediately." Nein said hurriedly, striding over to the brain tumbler.

Strange. What was he in such a hurry for...?

"Well," Loboto began, preparing to slide off the table, "I suppose I'll get out of your hair—"

"You stay here." He TK-nudged Loboto back onto the table, then paused, seeming to consider that Loboto was now awake, and turned to Oleander. I was not expecting him to be awake, he said over telepathy. Have you learned anything... noteworthy from him?

Oleander looked from Sasha, to Loboto (who stared at him worriedly), and back, before shaking his head. No, haven't gotten a word from him about anything relevant.

As I suspected. Sighing, Sasha turned back toward the brain tumbler. "Well, thank you again for your help, but I must get back to work."

"Right. Uh. Good luck with that guy. You're gonna need it." Frowning, Oleander turned away, finally heading out of the lab. Mission accomplished, he supposed.

...Though after what he'd just learned, he had another mission he'd have to give himself. After stepping into his supply-closet-turned-office, he pulled out some blue paper, and began drafting his machine.

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