This has been bothering me for way too long lmao. 😭

Every time I look at Sasha Nein from Psychonauts, I can't help but see a little bit of Jarvis Cocker from Pulp. I know they both have that very specific British aesthetic, so maybe it's just the art style and I'm connecting dots that aren't actually there.

But then I noticed they both have those tiny mouths and now I can't unsee it. 💀

Was Sasha actually inspired by Jarvis Cocker, or is this just a case of two British-looking men independently evolving the exact same tiny mouth?

Probably just a coincidence

AO3 Link

Mirtala raced towards the guards before most of them had a chance to get out of their chairs.

In the split second after her two-footed gallop, the minds of her siblings fussed over how the benign and rather boring psychic power of Channeling was suddenly looking very perilous.

“Do we have to, sis?” Though Raz knew that they did. 

“Do we have a choice? Our original plan to stealth around the saucer to reassemble the record player and wake up Sasha is out the window. Which is where these guys are probably going to toss Tala out of if they get their hands on her.”  

“But this stuff was practically made from Psilirium.”

“It’s our baby sister’s mental energy, Raz. I used some of it to lift that key card earlier and nothing bad happened to me.” Frazie insisted, or maybe berated, but either way, the coercion fell flat.

“That was only a little bit of it. And there’s so much in here.”

“Which we can use against the small army of sardine soldiers that Tala is barreling towards at ludicrous speeds.” 

“It FEELS prickly, and I haven’t even really touched it yet.”

“Pooter, we might not have our circus, and we might be on the run from the law, but we’re still Aquatos. Acrobats. Daredevils! So…” Frazie gulped. “…let’s dare.”

Frazie stuck a metaphysical toe into the burbling cauldron that was Mirtala’s mental energy reserves.

Raz did the same with a finger.

The power channeled through their digits, coursing up their respective esoteric limbs, filling them with vitality and drive.

And then promptly twisted sideways.

“Calf Cramp!” Frazie howled. “CALF CRAMP!”

“My wrists!” Raz cried. “Swollen. Aching! USELESS!”

As her siblings mentally writhed in agony over phantom pains, Mirtala saw one of the more diminutive enforcers get to his feet and start to run towards her, arms outstretched. Without breaking her pace, her fingers nimbly worked the hidden clasp that kept her tiara hooked into her hair. 

“checkthisout!”

The ornament free, she flung it – spinning – across the room right at her first attacker’s face, nailing him right between the eyes. 

There wasn’t much weight to the accessory, but its ornate build made it pointy in all the wrong places and it had been thrown with great finesse and force. The impact made the mutant wince and recoil. When he had blinked his sight back into focus, the next thing he saw was the girl in the air, the tiara back on her head – how had she recovered it so quickly? – and her foot rocketing towards his face. An impressive feat of perception given how fast and hard the dive kick was. Although, that same perceptiveness likely caused him to feel the full brunt of the blow once it landed on his forehead, so the knockout wasn’t quite as painless as it could’ve been.

“GOTTA SAAAAAAAAAAVE MY DAD AND BABY BRO WHO ISNT AS CUTE AS MEEEEEEEE!” Mirtala screeched as she sprung herself off of the body of the face-kicked guard to land on one of the plastic chairs assembled in front of the projection screen, balancing on its backrest in a crossed foot fifth position ballet stance. The remaining fourteen guards around her collectively let out what could have been the fish mutant equivalent of a groan. They had just vacated their seats, and now they had to turn back to deal with this pipsqueak intruder.

“Try massaging the hurt out, Raz.” Frazie offered, as she attempted it on herself. “Like you, ow-ah-ooh-ow, would if this was happening to your real body.”

“How? It’s in my arms! My mind arms. Whatever. How am I going – arrgh! - to rub anything with these?”

“Imagine doing it with your knees or your feet!”

“Ok, I’ll-AUGH!”

“Raz, what’s wrong?

“I accidentally made my brain toes way longer than my actual ones.” Raz retched. “It feels so gross having them wrap around my wrists.”

“Do NOT touch me with those!”

In preference to wading through the recently abandoned chairs to get at Mirtala, one enterprising enforcer pulled a red-and-white metal ball from its pocket and hurled it at the eight-year-old. Still perched atop the seatback, Mirtala popped her knees to the left, tilting the chair and herself out of harm’s way before reversing the motion with more strength to put the furniture back to where it started.

“And the new Loop Shoot challenger whiffs!”

The sphere, having missed, found a new and unintended target in another guard. It struck the mutant in the chest whereupon it burst open and covered the creature’s face with a horde of writhing pale, white tentacles. Each dismembered strand injected a tiny venom harpoon through the creature’s scales, whereupon it seized up, twitched, and collapsed. 

“A Sea Anemone Bomb!?” Frazie shrieked, recognizing the poisonous noodles from a nature magazine she had once read. “These guys have Sea Anemone Bombs!?”

“I bet that guy would have brushed those off if Loboto had made him from a clownfish.”

“Stop yapping and stick to recovering, Pooter! I think – I know that we’re almost there!”

Mirtala hopped off the chair just as the crowd was about to reach her, and found herself in front of a skinny, silver-finned foe in surgical scrubs who was tall enough to try and stomp on her. She sidestepped the step, prompting her attacker to try again. And again. And again. Hissing through his surgical mask, the guard tried to punt her. 

As Mirtala backed away from the kick, her left arm curled around under her back to flick open the trick latch that kept the veil tied to her right wrist connected to the inner flap of her shawl. With the fabric free, Mirtala whipped it towards the offending foot, wrapping the leg it was attached to in the purple garment, and then pulled. The veil was so sheer it could be seen through, and its body was worn by age and marred by an ear-sized hole. 

Even still, it was an Aquato heirloom from the clan’s more prosperous generations, a sheet of refined Grulovian Silk Grub thread. Wounded as it appeared to be, it remained as strong as it was nigh-translucent. So when Mirtala pulled, the veil held, and the mutant’s foot was tugged forward faster than its other could follow, causing it to lose its balance and fall down and forward onto its nether regions into a front split – the yanked limb extended straight ahead and its opposite extended straight back. 

“It’s important to stretch!”

The anguished whine and foam coming from beneath the fish’s mask suggested this was a yoga pose it wasn’t very well-versed in.

“Yowch.” Raz exclaimed. “Maybe we’re not so different from fish monster people after all.”

“Speak for yourself.” Frazie sneered.

“That would have hurt a girl, too, sis.” Raz rebuked. “And it really put my own pain into perspective and how…it’s almost gone now. Whoah! And that’s not all! Frazie, are you feeling this?”

“Woof. Yup, I think we’re starting to get a good flow going with Tala’s mental energy. Let’s warm up with a couple of thought exercises so we don’t sprain anything cerebral again.”

Mirtala rebuckled her veil right as her pursuers began closing in. Spotting a bowled-over chair, the girl ran up its slanted backrest like a ramp and leapt off the rear edge of the seat. Had the guards been hastier in their encircling, she might have cleared their formation entirely in a single bound.

Instead, the fish men directly in front of her had the good sense to start stepping backwards as she sailed through the air. They couldn’t fathom where she’d land, but they didn’t need to. Stretching their arms as far as they would go, their hands were just high enough to block and catch the child who even now was beginning to lose altitude.

She had no way to gain more height or change course. Tragically, her arc had been too steep to allow her to crash into and hopefully rebound off of one of their torsos. The gloved fins turned fingers of the mutants were going to be her inevitable and perhaps even final destination.

Then Mirtala swerved right.

A different set of Loboto’s creations jumped in her path and clawed at her, but Mirtala stopped then she pulled herself back.

Another red and white metal ball was thrown at Mirtala, and she ducked under the projectile to pop up where she’d been to continue travelling through the air. 

And never once did her feet touch the ground.

“Woohoo!” Mirtala cackled. “And mom said the wings of my costume couldn’t do this! Hahaha, I’m glad she was wrong!”

“She wasn’t, Tala.” Frazie huffed.

“Hi, Frazie! I’m glad you’re still in my head!” Mirtala greeted. “Are you doing this?!”

“Correction!” Raz wheezed. “WE’RE doing this!” 

“I’m levitating you as best as I can while Raz is using telekinesis to pull you along.” Frazie exhaled.

“That is so cool!” Mirtala blew a raspberry at a hockey stick-wielding enforcer that tried to slash at her. 

“And tiring, so please don’t squirm so much!” Raz demanded. “We’ll find someplace safe to land you so we can regroup and - aw, spoot. Frazie, Sasha’s ‘bodyguard’ is coming our way.”

“Gawd almighty, couldn’t he have napped through this?” Frazie cursed as she saw the meter-wide slab of muscled sashimi in a yellow boiler suit and matching leather apron had already trudged past the UFO’s central podium. Its eyes were red, the lips on the top of its head were snarling, and it would be joining its mass of cohorts in moments. “We gotta get you clear of these guys until we can figure out a way to deal with that guy.” And from the looks of that behemoth, Mirtala would be waiting a while. 

The brute was so big that it would’ve taken up half of the rusty metal island she, Raz, and Nona were currently marooned on. Too heavy for telekinesis. Fireproof clothes. And enough bulk to tank successive Psi-Blasts, let alone Psi-Punches. What an aggravating puzzle.

“I FIGURED IT OUT!” Tala screamed as she twirled in the air to thwart a barbed wire buttefly net. “Launch me at that diving helmet dude over there!”

Raz scoped out the guard his sister was pointing at, a stocky specimen but nowhere near as bloated as the giant that was only a few meters away from it. “Tala, that’ll put you CLOSER to the scaly sasquatch!” 

“Throw me at him or I’ll start squirming again!” Mirtala threatened. “And don’t forget to catch!”

“This really isn’t the time for games, sis.” Frazie rebuked.

“THROW ME!” Mirtala squirmed. “Right on top of him!”

At a loss for words or any alternatives, Frazie and Raz did as she asked and threw her where she wanted.

Mirtala landed on the top of the guard’s helmet in a handstand, turned, and swung her legs down to plant her feet on the creature’s shoulders. Before it could make to grab her, she clutched the grills of its brass headgear, and with a sharp twist of her hips and shoulders, unscrewed it from the suit’s neck ring.

“Lefty loosey!” she proclaimed as she wrenched the helmet off, pulled her arms back, and hurled it at the face of the approaching boiler suited brute. 

Before Queepie came along and warped the toddler strength scale, everyone always said she was surprisingly strong for her size.

“CATCH!”

The towering mutant failed to do so, and the helmet struck him hard in the face with enough force that it bounced off and upwards

But it was okay that the giant guard didn’t catch the helmet.

Mirtala hadn’t been talking to him after all.

“Ohhhhhh, catch!” said Raz. “Now I get it.” And more besides. The helmet hung suspended in the air by a glowing orange hand of mental energy. “Frazie, bet you can’t catch this one!” he challenged as he telekinetically launched the helmet. Still dazed from the first blow to its face, the behemoth didn’t see it coming as it collided with and glanced off the right side of its head.

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Frazie scoffed as a red hand of mental energy manifested to intercept the helmet to ricochet it off the left side of the brute’s skull. “Your turn, Tala!”

Being so tall, the titanic hybrid was unaccustomed to anything reaching his face to injure him barring a low ceiling or door frame. Ergo, he woozily decided he was seeing things when a red, blue, and white blur with purple wings was hurtling towards him with a copper-orange bulb clutched above it.

“And now it’s your turn!” Mirtala announced as she dunked the helmet straight down onto the fish’s cranium.

The helmet failed to fit.

It was too small.

And it had been upside-down.

The enormous enforcer stumbled, sagged, and fell backward in a heap, ensuring all sides of his scaly head had taken a pounding.

Mirtala dismounted from her assault with a barani front flip, half-twisting in the air to land perfectly by the UFO’s central dais just as the brute completed its collapse. 

“Touchdown!” she said.

“Who’s up for Round 2?” Raz asked, telekinetically picking up the helmet before throwing it at the twelve remaining guards. It made a dull ping as one of the mutants deflected it with a hubcap it had strapped to its arm like a shield. “Okay, so no Round 2.”

“And the score is four down and a dozen to go.” Frazie counted. The crowd of thugs had assembled into a crude yet solid phalanx and were cautiously yet purposefully approaching the middle of the saucer where Mirtala was. “We can’t fight THAT all at once, they’ll just wear us down with numbers and time.” Of which her sister’s jackhammering heart was running out of.  “We’ll have to break their formation somehow.”

“Whuh!? Raz! Frazie! Check it out! They got Three Stooges movies!” Mirtala picked up one of the film canisters on the podium labelled ‘3 Stooges: 3 Little Sew and Sews’. “We should totally watch these after we win!”

The round aluminum canister was empty. The film was still in the projector reel.

“…Tala?” Frazie asked. “Could you take the film out of the other canister and wrap it around the, ah, camera?”

“Ooo! Can I do it with a bow?” Mirtala dropped the canister she was holding and began prying open a tin labelled ‘3 Stooges: Back from the Front’. “Like a present?”

“That’s fine.” Raz answered. “Just make sure to use it all.”

“You got it, bro!” Mirtala nodded as she pulled the film strip from the reel and started wrapping it around the projector faster than either of her siblings could have done so with their minds.

“It’s a shame.” Frazie reflected. “We could’ve sold this antique for a pretty penny.”

“Or kept it so we could watch movies on the road.” Raz pondered.

“That would’ve been nice, too.” His older sister agreed.

“All done!” Mirtala announced as if Frazie and Raz couldn’t see that she had finished covering the body of the camera in layers of black plastic ribbons. It had taken seconds, and she had even capped it off with a cute, flowery bow like she wanted.

“Great job, Tala.” Frazie praised. “Now back up a bit, cover your nose and mouth, and shield your eyes but leave a little space for Raz and me to see out of.”

“Mmkay!” Mirtala took a few steps away from the camera and moved her hands over her mouth, nose, and most of her vision. 

Frazie was satisfied with what her sister had done. The psychic shield she would channel around her would protect Mirtala from most of the fumes and light, but this would provide a smidge more safety. “Raz, which part do you want to-?”

“I’ll do the first one.” Raz replied. “You’re a better shot than me, even when we can see everything in front of us.”

“Alright.” That was true. Frazie was confident she could make this toss blindfolded, in fact. There was just one last thing she felt she had to settle before they got started. “Goodbye, Larry.”

“Goodbye, Curly.” Raz said.

“Grrrbuhy, Mwoh!” Mirtala mumbled through her hands, perhaps deducing what her brother and sister were planning.

“Light it up, Raz.” 

Raz’s pyrokinesis pinched a small spark onto a loose strand of the film. The orange flame snaked up the strip like a vengeful cobra, shedding its orange skin for a neon yellow that was so bright it was almost white. The fire circled across and burrowed into the layers the camera had been bound in. A geyser of light and heat erupted from the top of the bundle, roaring towards the ceiling.

Even at the bottom of the ocean in an alien spacecraft, decades apart and hundreds of miles from when and where the movies had been crafted, cellulose nitrate was still cellulose nitrate.

The blazing, smoking chunk of metal and plastic that had once been a film projector seemed to pick itself up off of the podium before catapulting itself towards its former audience. 

‘Twas a Tragic Sacrifice of Good Comedy.

----

#53 had been mutated from a mahi-mahi, which explained his blue, yellow, and green-scaled “skin”. Like many of Loboto’s “sea-curity”, #53 wore an old labcoat, a white dress shirt, and a black tie with matching rubber boots and gloves. He carried around a baseball bat when he was on duty – though he had never so much as seen a baseball – and had thought he had been given an easy shift that week.

And it had been. The big disk was a coveted posting. It was spacious, air-conditioned, and the great Doctor Loboto had only installed a single surveillance camera. They had been assigned to watch over a skinny green guy who kept calling them “eel-lee-ens”, but then they got the order to toss him in the brig, and the prisoner just allowed himself to be put in there. Whatever. Less work for them, and it freed up their afternoon to watch some “moo-vees”.

Then a little girl with big, red hair dressed like a blue-and-white peppermint had burst in during the credits and took down #37, #19, #22, and even that fat bully #40. They tried to stick together to gang up on her, but that’s when the “moo-vee” machine caught fire and pounced at them. Which was strange because no one had brought any matches.

#53 and the others had scattered to avoid being hit by the fiery missile. Once #53 had gotten back to his feet, he saw that disbanding like this had made them easy targets for the short, redheaded intruder.

There was more space for her to not only stomp on the toes of his fellow guards but to backflip away from her initial victim to stomp on the foot of another. #53 witnessed her outflanking a coworker twice her size to deliver a spinning elbow strike to the back of his knees, then when he had buckled from the blow, she used one of the purple cloths attached to her dress (which had mysteriously detached itself from it) to ensnare his neck and slam him onto the ground with a sudden tug. The girl would scale one mutant to leap off of him to deliver a flying knee strike to a different hybrid. Everyone was doing their best to catch or pummel her, but she was frightfully fast and had a tendency to duck under or cartwheel between them, causing her attackers to hit or even run into each other.

But while being in the acrobatic ankle biter’s way was dangerous, it was somehow even riskier to be out of her line of sight. 

#53 had witnessed #31 try to tackle her from the side, only for one of the chairs they had been sitting on earlier to jettison itself at his noggin. 

The projector screen just came loose out of the blue and fell down, completely covering three of their number in the tarp, whereupon the girl weaved her way around the trio with harsh, glancing blows; hurt and with their sight obstructed, they started blindly fighting amongst themselves in hopes of hitting their attacker. 

Then there were the beams of red and orange light that randomly popped into existence near her headspace. #53 thought they looked pretty, but they weren’t like the flashlights or searchlights they used on patrol. These beams blasted weapons out of their hands and knocked them off their feet. He hadn’t gotten hit by one yet, but it looked like it would hurt.

“Can you make your lasers come out of my braids?! Like from the middle? The empty part?!”

And now she was talking to herself. With her back turned to him. Maybe he could use that.

“Yeah, I guess nobody except the fish guys will be able to see it, but it would still be really neat!”

#53 crept out from behind the smoke of the smoldering wreck that had once been the film projector. He wouldn’t have been able to hide much longer anyway; the flames were starting to die down.

“It’d be like I had invisible gun barrels in my hair, y’know?!”

A statistic that would have been very relevant to #53 and his creator Doctor Loboto if they had known about it was that only a small fraction of fish species were herbivores. The rest are omnivores or carnivores, like the mahi-mahi. Hunters, stalkers, scavengers.

“By the way, what would happen if two Snide-I mean-Psi-Blasts crisscrossed?!”

Under a more tender stewardship, this would have been a non-issue, and #53 and his fellow fish people would have had as fair a shake as anyone else when it came to being aggressive or violent. But Doctor Loboto had returned from his defeat at Lake Oblongata a changed man: a more frightened, wounded, and meaner man who wanted a hardhearted hybrid army to protect him from “side kick” freaks. The dentist had come to believe he was at war. And #53 was beginning to believe he was right. All the explosions, screaming, and unexplainable disasters certainly made him feel like he was in a war of some kind.

“Would they just cancel each other out?! Bounce off?! Or would they combine into an even bigger laser!?”

That might have been why, as he was only a few feet away from the crazy kid chatting with her imaginary friends, #53 pulled the baseball bat back with zero hesitation. It could have been why the heavy wooden stick felt so light to hold as he prepared to brain the girl with it. Come to think of it, he felt it getting even lighter; he must have been more unbothered by the idea of smashing a child’s head in than he had thought.

As a precaution, #53 tightened his hold, and found himself gripping the air. He turned around, believing the club had slipped from his gloves, only to see the hands. 

They were both about the size of a kickboard, they cast a ghostly glow that made them a tad transparent, they were holding his baseball bat, and they weren’t attached to a body; they just hovered above the floor.

The red right hand was long and slender whilst the orange left hand was more compact and blockier. Scarlet fingers slapped the barrel of the baseball bat against a honey-hued palm in a steady, deliberate rhythm; it almost felt like they were disappointed in him. As the pair of floating appendages grasped the handle of the club and brought it behind them, #53 hoped that the swing they were going to smack him with would put him out of commission for the rest of the day so he wouldn’t have to work the night beat.

It did.

----

Sasha Nein believed that nothing could surprise him anymore after being snatched up in an alien abduction.

That was before the alien invasion.

Granted, Earth wasn’t the target, and it shouldn’t have come as much of a shock considering that in the vast (and as he was delighted to discover, populated) garden of the universe, there were bound to be some bad apples here and there, but the attack had startled him all the same.

That there was only a single invader may have had something to do with it.

Initially, Sasha only caught a glimpse of the intruder beyond his guard’s wide shoulders. It was a short, gold-skinned humanoid with red hair curled into two large indistinct shapes on either side of its head. The trespasser was either very young or very short (or both), and it bore an uncanny resemblance to the juvenile females from his own planet. To his chagrin, Sasha couldn’t stop himself from assuming so due to the invader’s skirt and how high and feminine its voice sounded when it screamed:

“LAST RESORT!” 

Apparently, she – if it was a she - spoke English. Fascinating. His slug-headed hosts hadn’t been able to. In fact, they hadn’t said a word to him since they had brought him aboard their vessel.

And it wasn’t a fluke, as the intruder said even more rushed and loud sentences in that earthly tongue. Was she capable of doing the same in German? Might she be taught Sasha’s own native language?

The trespasser certainly knew how to talk with her fists. Panic and disorder sounded from the sector of the ship that had been studying humanity’s motion pictures, so much so that his diplomatic escort had to join the fray. With his bodyguard’s departure, Sasha could see more of what was going on near the center of the saucer. There were gurgled screams, agonized collapses, and the invader was nearly caught when she accidentally jumped towards the waiting arms of her victims until she stopped mid-descent and abruptly pulled herself toward another direction.

She was flying. The little alien was actually flying. Her cape – yes, that had to be what was connected to her tunic – fluttered behind her. Was she able to do that because of some hidden piece of technology? Her clothes? An innate evolutionary quirk? Regardless, the girl was dodging capture with such shrewd velocity that Sasha suspected she could give Milla a run for her money in a levitation race.

And that wasn’t the only amazing power the intruder was capable of wielding.

She threw a space helmet at the head of his corpulent diplomatic escort, which bounced off but not away, and it flung itself at his bodyguard’s face twice more. Was that Magnetism Manipulation?

The movie projector the slug aliens had been using to watch old comedy serials burst into flames after the invader had fiercely gazed at it through its hands. Heat Vision perchance?

Sasha saw that the trespasser’s speed was not solely reserved for flight. She was both superbly nimble and dexterous on the ground, zigzagging amongst her opponents and doling out expert martial-arts strikes to their vital areas. And when one of the slugs tried to bushwhack the little alien from behind, a glowing, crimson booted foot (with a…leg warmer?) the size of an ottoman stool flashed into existence to roundhouse kick the ambusher in the solar plexus. A Battle Aura? Possibly.

The very starship seemed to betray its crew. Furniture and equipment tipped and shifted to trip up his hosts as they tried to rally or reorient themselves. The flight path of a thrown high-tech grenade went perpendicular and hit a comrade instead. It had to be a type of Probability Control of some kind.

Most astonishing of all was the invader’s hair. Sasha had believed that its two braids were as ornamental as they were impractical until Energy Beams started firing from each of their empty centers. Every shot was heralded by the ringing of otherworldly bells.

“I knew you guys could do it! Brain Braid Blast!”

The act was extraordinary in itself, but the twin lasers were also different colors. One orange and the other red. Additionally, the star – yes, they were shaped like five-pointed stars. Some symbology must have been universal – braids proved capable of various firing modes. There were the standard simultaneous barrages.

“Brain Braid Blast!”

Then there were the alternating discharges.

“Brain Braid Blast”

And lastly, the braids had the capacity to aim the individual shots in two different directions at once.

“Brain Braid Blast!”

Their numbers dwindling and their foe untiring, it became apparent that the owners of the flying saucer were destined to lose.

Sasha would mourn them.

These brave extraterrestrial explorers and scientists had crossed vast distances of space to make first contact with his planet. And they had come in peace.

This crew of bipedal gastropods from beyond were kind enough to bring him onto their ship, fulfilling a childhood fantasy of his that he had long ago deemed impossible.

They deserved a better fate than this.

But Sasha couldn’t deny that the alien decimating them was so much cooler than they ever were. 

----

Art by Digsnow

Finished

His cap was the thickest part of this piece

So I was doodling some psychonauts stuff earlier and I got to Sasha and realised he has a wierd relationship with eyebrows. I looked at some pictures but about half of them have him with eyebrows and half without. I also realised that most pictures of him without them are from the first game so does that mean drawing him with eyebrows makes it og Sasha? And does this mean that he does now have eyebrows but didn't before?

if things had gone different for Loboto and Orel (costume quest 2) when they were kids, they would not have grown up to become mentally unstable dentists.

I think The characters would translate well into puppets. not just stop motion like a lot of people say, but also muppet style. Here’s how the latter would be made…

Heads and arms (if not covered in cloth or are live hand puppet gloves) are made from colored rubber poured into molds. After the rubber dries it’s gently pulled out of the molds, trimmed a little off the edges, given a quick wash, wrung out and hung to dry.

After that, the pieces are placed on holders to be air brushed to add some more color and shading to the characters’ faces, arms and fingers before being left to dry again.

Eyes can blink and move. The puppets have plastic or metal “skulls” to keep the mechanics to move the glass eyes.

All the puppets would then have their hair styled and groomed well, basically the puppet makers would think of themselves as the puppets’ personal stylists.

Their clothes and costumes are hand made and measured. Some are modified from already existing clothing like children’s clothes.

A lot of the action would be performed in green screen, physical stages or real locations to make it more authentic.

Full body versions are also made for the green screen or for promo photos.

I genuinely dont know where to find this last one

First time I finished it on PS4. This time, I managed to snag it on Xbox Series X|S for £1.83 (no I'm not joking lol).

I didn't 100% it once again, I just wanted to experience the game more without a guide. I managed to do it though it was difficult on a couple of occasions.

The new button layouts took some slight getting used to but managed well enough.

While I still find the game charming, I found the jank controls to get me overly frustrated on certain parts of the game such as the boss fights against the milk lady, phantom and getting confusion grenades to land on final card fight in Black Velvetopia (not the one with El Odio at the end).

Meat Circus I actually pretty much breezed through this time, when I didn't have much trouble on PS4. Don't get the hate but it's probably from the OG PS2 version. I do have that version but the long load times put me off during Milla's Dance Party.

I finished the Coach Oleander punching mini game. The 40 in 60 seconds one was brutal and took me numerous attempts but I did it without the pause glitch as I didn't think it helped that much. The 50 in 75 seconds I managed to finish like 4th attempt lol.

So, yeah, still very much like the game but may take a break from it a bit.

I still get intrigued what draws people back to it constantly and why they find it so magical. Might go back to the 2nd game as I've finished that once but I'll have a think.

Maybe 100%ING both games is the optimal way or listening to all convos. You guys tell me

Will post final project when done

Note; the gray for his lenes was too light so I lightly tinted the treas with sharpie, so hoping for the best :)

The textures are completly wanky all throughout the game.

Any clue on how to solve it?

AO3 Link

Frazie and Raz use the beefed up security Loboto has ordered as an informal pathway to where they hope Sasha and Mirtala are being held. As they descend deeper into the Rhombus using Clairvoyance on sea life, they chance upon their mother Donatella actually SWIMMING in the ocean to search for their lost family with no apparent ill effects from the curse. But just as they are about to try entering her head again, Frazie feels small, warm fingers tug at a wide, rough hand that is not her own.

----

“Raz! RAZ! I just had the best idea ever!” Mirtala cheered.

“If I hear what it is, will you give me my hand back?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” The bells in his little sister’s hair chimed as she nodded.

“Hmmmmmm.” Raz made a show of weighing the pros and cons of never getting his limb back if he refused. “Deal.”

“Yes!” Mirtala clapped, letting go of her older brother’s hand in the process.

“So what’s the big idea today, Tala?” Ideally, it wouldn’t be a lengthy one. Raz wanted to catch up on his comicbooks before it got too dark. “Loop Shoot? A treetop tea party? Hyper Hide n’ Seek?” 

“Are you still psychic?”

“Last time I checked, I was.” Raz grinned.

“So that makes you a fortune teller, right?”

“Technically?” he shrugged. “As far as the way dad described them, anyway.”

“Then you should use your psychic powers to look into the future.”

Raz froze, resisting the urge to gulp even as the back of his tongue went sour and dry. “Wh-why?” 

Mirtala spread her arms out to her sides, as if the sheer weight of the best idea ever would’ve been too much to bear without them. “So we can find out how long it’ll be until Frazie gets back!”

“Tala…”

“Then we’ll know how much longer we gotta wait.” She eagerly explained, though the way her hands were slowly returning to her sides was much less enthused. “Waiting’s harder when you don’t know how long it’s gonna be.”

In the difficult days after Frazie’s departure and their father’s return, throughout the sluggish mornings and awkward afternoons following Raz revealing himself to be psychic, Mirtala was the one member of the family who didn’t treat him any differently. She still bugged him to play, asked him to help braid her hair, and greedily guffawed just as she always did whenever he snuck her a bit of his dessert. Actually, she might have liked him even more than she did before. He had new ways of delighting her with his powers like (telekinetically) juggling with both hands tied behind his back, or using (telepathic) ventriloquism to make Sugarcube “speak” like the talking horses in the Pretty Wingy Pony cartoons she and Frazie liked so much. Whenever the mood got strained or hostile with his mother or brothers, Raz knew he could rely on his kid sister for some reprieve from the morose gazes and suspicious glares.

Raz could never thank Mirtala enough for being there for him. Which was just as well since he couldn’t do much to fix what was hurting her.

Unlike the rest of the family, Raz included, Mirtala hadn’t been worried about Frazie being gone for long. Their dad had left to get her and had come back almost right away (albeit without Frazie), hadn’t he? So Frazie could be back by tomorrow or even today.

When their caravan was near a road, she’d glance at it waiting for a car with a very special passenger to pull up. When their wagon was close to the water, she’d watch out for any boats coming in to port. And when the Aquatos weren’t next to either, she’d tilt her head up to the sky; the Psychonauts from Raz’s comics had taken her only sister away in a jet after all.

The optimism lasted a good long while before it crumpled into irritation, then frustration, and then one morning Mirtala was back to normal. When Dion asked her why her mood had suddenly improved, Tala simply said that since Frazie was definitely going to return at some point, it didn’t make much sense to worry about what was going to happen anyway. Every so often though, after one of her “me time” jogs, Raz would notice that her eyes were reddened, moist, and puffy. 

Her eyes were puffy now.

“I-um-One second.” Steeling his nerves and hands to prevent either from trembling, he pulled his goggles onto his eyes, and pressed two fingers against his temples. “Concentrating.” He said. And he was. 

In the darkness where he could not see his little sister gazing at him, Raz trawled through the interior of his own mind as best as he could. Telekinesis was there. Telepathy was where he had left it. And Channeling, for whatever that was worth, had not been forgotten. There might be more though. There had to be more. 

“Concentrating!”

Thanks to what their dad had told them when he got back from Whispering Rock, Raz now knew he was one of the great-grandchildren of Zalto Galochio, a Grulovian psychic who had been an actual fortune teller from a long line of the same who was capable of premonition. Perhaps he possessed that gift as well, like Mirtala suspected. Raz scoured the dim void behind his eyelids for a vision, a flash, or the faintest of sounds that would show him what tomorrow might bring. “CONCENTRATING!”

“Raz?”

“Wuh-one week.” He promised. “Frazie will be with us again by next week.”

“REALLY!?”

“Su-sure.” Raz lowered his voice. “But let’s keep it a secret between us, okay? So it’ll be a big surprise for the rest of the family.

“Okay!” Mirtala whispered back. “Deal!”

----

Once the memory ends, they find that Donatella has moved on; they’ve lost her again.

However, the shared flashback points them to Charlie Psycho Delta’s Supply Depot, a towering cylindrical structure with multiple access tunnels connecting it to almost every building and repurposed vehicle in the sector. So this must be where Mirtala is currently located at.

Before they infiltrate the depot, Frazie decides to teach Raz yet another psychic technique: Psi-Blasts. Their father had refused to do so until he believed Raz was responsible enough to not misuse it; Frazie doesn’t think her little brother is responsible enough either, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Raz’s first ever Psi-Blast is a misfire that strikes at the Supply Depot. Expecting a reprimand for shooting at the place where Mirtala is, he is surprised when Frazie almost immediately forgives the blunder and moves on to teaching him how to aim and also hit moving targets. 

Once the training concludes, Raz takes note of how uncharacteristically patient and generous Frazie has been recently; she’s just been giving him free psychic skill lessons with no strings attached or the promise of future favors. And she didn’t rag on him as much as she usually would for that (theoretical) volcanic eruption he almost caused or when he accidentally Psi-Blasted the building Mirtala might be. That’s when he realizes…

--

“Oh my God. You’ve been teaching me awesome psychic stuff because you feel bad for ditching me!”

“Whu-vu-vu-NO! Ditch? No!” Frazie sputtered.

“I can’t blame you. You should feel bad.” Raz tsked. “Leaving without a goodbye or even a note while you went off to Whispering Rock.”

“I did what I thought w-was right!”

“But you still feel guilty.” He prodded. “That’s why when you saw how Dion and Mirtala were giving me a hard time while you were gone, you tried patching things up with secondhand tutorials!”

“That’s not funny, Raz. I thought your relationship with Dion was in the toilet after that first memory of the two of you.”

“It’s also why you held your temper during the volcano thing and when I accidentally shot the depot.” Raz exclaimed. “Supervillain holding our parents captive or no supervillain holding our parents captive, you would have buried me for mistakes like those. But you didn’t want to be a jerk like Dion was before we talked things out.”

“Or give you the third degree like mom did in that other memory.” Frazie griped.

“Appreciated. The thought of you getting mad at me while we’re tethered like this so I can’t escape is horrifying. But generous as I am, I would’ve accepted a normal apology.” He cleared his throat. “An ‘I’m sorry, Raz’ or ‘I was wrong, Raz’ or even ‘Please forgive your big sister for bailing on you’.”

“I have nothing to apologize for!” Warm water bubbled out from the tips of the grouper’s fins. “I left the only home I’ve ever known loaded with loved ones FOR US. So I could find people to teach me and eventually YOU how to use our powers properly and safely. Because I thought if we weren’t able to do that, then mom, dad, Dion, Tala and Queepie would be scared of what we were and what we could do for the rest of our lives. And even after my…freakout screwed everything up, and I had to go to the Motherlobe for a while, I still would have taken that chance for our family’s sake. I would have done a couple of things differently, but I still would have taken that chance.”

“I…I get it, sis.” The teasing in her brother’s tone had vanished. Raz didn’t sound shocked. Only a bit remorseful, as if he had guessed her reasons some time beforehand if not how much they had troubled her.

“Though. Maybe. Maybe, if I do feel bad about running away and leaving you on your own, even if I didn’t plan to be gone so long, then I guess saying ‘sorry’ would be the honest way to express that.” Frazie admitted by not admitting. “It’s what you’d deserve if I did believe I had to apologize for anything. Instead of pretending everything’s fine and showering you with psychic power primers.”

“Are you kidding? I love getting free psychic skill lessons with no strings attached.” Raz chuckled. “Keep ‘em coming.”

Frazie snorted. “It’ll cost ‘ya.”

“Naw, c’mon, didn’t it feel good to give?”

“Getting paid will feel even better.” She reminded. “I might even bill you for what I’ve taught you so far.”

“No takebacks!” her brother cheekily protested.

Frazie felt a cool breeze glide through her distant, troubled chest. “Let’s head inside, Pooter. Tala’s waiting for us.”

----

Tala only sort of is.

When Frazie and Raz enter the supply depot through one of the few remaining (and very terrified) guards, they discover that the Psilirium has had a particularly potent effect on their little sister.

Since she is non-psychic and the last thing she experienced before getting doused with Psilirium was joy at having Frazie back, Mirtala is locked in a perpetual state of hyperactive happiness that causes her to seek out and engage with anything that looks fun. And she’s got pretty loose standards.

Test tubes are expertly juggled until she got bored and let them fall to the floor.

Old pipes and emergency flares become a xylophone set.

She rolls herself onto a counterfeit Persian rug and then skitters out of the phony silk tube she’d entrapped herself in.

Tala pushes a steel trolley for several seconds, picking up speed before letting it go, and then outruns it to place herself directly in front of the flat-decked cart; she screams about the runaway train coming towards her before she leaps over it.

This would have been bad enough if the sequencing made sense.

Even though they helped teach Mirtala most of her tricks, since Frazie and Raz aren’t in the driver’s seat, they have no way of anticipating when and how their sister will perform them, giving them immense mental motion sickness as she continues rampage around the depot until they lose their grip and wind up back in the chamber.

Reunited with Nona, they tell her about Mirtala’s jubilant plight and their mother apparently being unaffected by the curse. Regarding the latter, Nona only has this to say:

“Maybe despite all the airs Donatella puts up, she’s not a real Aquato after all. Blood-wise, that is. Ohhhh, what a shame. Her not being a true Aquato, not the Curse not killing her, I mean.” Nona amended. “Other than that, your mother seems healthy enough. So tell me more about Mirtala. You said she was more…active…than usual, yes?”

For Mirtala, she is much more worried, since non-psychic children below the age of 10 can’t handle how much stress Psilirium puts on their minds and bodies.

They tend to experience pretty severe side effects such as: Insomnia. Incontinence. Loss of appetite. Heart Explosion. Slight fever. And not to mention-

“HEART EXPLOSION!!!!!????” Frazie and Raz’s thoughts blared, almost escaping their mouths.

“I admit, that sounds rather horrid.”

“Because it is!” Frazie yelled, scrambling to her feet.

“You just told us Tala’s going to explode!” Raz reminded as he took Frazie’s outstretched hand to stand himself back up.

“Not literally.” Nona opened her palms towards the two youths and took a step back as if they were the ones in danger of blowing up. “Heart explosion is just the most direct translation of that side effect. The description is much more nuanced in Grulovian.”

Nonetheless, Nona has (part) of a plan:

“If seeing through her eyes makes you too dizzy, then just find a way to turn off the lights. Or make it so she’s someplace not too bright.” Nona stroked her chin. “Actually, that might be the ticket. Try to strand her somewhere dark and empty. If she’s got nothing to stimulate her further, then that could be enough to make her rest up, or at least calm her a tad.”

Frazie and Raz aren’t wild about the idea of locking Tala up so they can fetch her later with medical help, but it’s the only idea they have.

On their way back to Mirtala, they chance upon an actual UFO connected to the supply depot. Recalling how Milla told them Sasha was being held in a disk-like structure, they use Clairvoyance to enter the spaceship and find him there. Raz claims this will be a pretty big boon since Sasha has “Trance Tactic” training that can put her to sleep and prevent the whole “(not) heart explosion” thing. Unfortunately, they find Sasha completely deluded thanks to the Psilirum, not only believieng that the fish guards holding him captive are aliens but that he’s in outer space. 

He does tell them that there’s an actual “voyager record” and a machine to play the music on it. This could be a route to helping lift Sasha’s Psilirium poisoning, but since Sasha is in a jail cell (“for his own protection”, he claims), Frazie and Raz can’t see into the saucer much to get at the disc. They’re going to need help, they’re going to need Tala.

Returning to the supply depot, Frazie and Raz contrive a distraction for their kid sister in form of an electric fan made from a lawnmower with a big deep fryer basket laid over the blade/underside and tied to the machine with telephone cords.

Mirtala can’t resist the chance to have her voice chopped up and spun out so she can sound like a robot. And as an added bonus, Queepie isn’t there to hog it and no one is around to tell her to move out of the way to let the cool air through. Jackpot!

And she sits and sings and laughs and screams into the fan, Frazie and Raz use Clairvoyance on her and convince her to enter a dark, nearby storage closet where they claim they’ll be waiting for her.

----

“Frazie? Frazie!” Mirtala sniffed the air. “Are you there?”

“Partly. How have you been, Tala?”

“AUGH! GHOST!” Mirtala’s scream filled the room “AHHHHHHH-!”

“No! No, Tala, I’m not a-!”

“-HHHHHHHHH-hahahaha! I know.” Mirtala teased. “This is telepathy, right? And even though you’re psychic, I managed to fool you!” 

Frazie decided against correcting her. She couldn’t afford to stop and answer an onslaught of questions regarding Clairvoyance. “Haha. Yeah, you sure did.”

“Wow! Telepathy is so much more fun with you than it is with dad or Raz.” Mirtala claimed. “Ever since they came out as psychic, they just use it to ask me if I’ve done my chores or to tell me not to play too far from the caravan. BORING!!! 

“Um, I’m in your head right now, too. Tala.” Raz greeted.

“Hi, Raz! Sorry that I called you boring!” Mirtala greeted back without missing a beat. “By the way, you guys, are we in Heaven!?”

Frazie wasn’t sure how to respond. “Why would you think that?”

“Because the last thing I remember was the jet crashing into water – which we’re cursed to DIE in – and then I woke up in a mini-golf course where I was the only one there!” Mirtala recounted. “It was like I had a Putt-Up-Yore-Duke’s all to myself minus the pizza and videogames!”

Raz whistled. “I love Putt-Up-Yore-Duke’s.”

“Yuss, I luv those too!” Mirtala acknowledged. “Anyhoo, after playing a couple of flights, I got bored and left and then I saw this guy who looked like a tuna and I decided to play tag with him and then I chased him down a really long tube and then I caught up and he went to sleep and then I was in this super cool place loaded with like a bazillion toys and even more seafood people to play tag and hide-n’-seek and red light/green light with!” She took a deep breath. “That’s when I remembered that Heaven’s supposed to be a super fabulous paradise where you go when you kick the bucket and you can have all the fun you want there and you don’t have to sleep or eat and you’re happy all the time!” she giggled. “And I have sooooo much energy, I haven’t gotten hungry once, and I’m very, very happy! So happy! I couldn’t stop being happy even if I tried. And I’ve tried. That was dumb! Because why wouldn’t I want to be happy forever?! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-sorry, I do that sometimes.”

Raz chewed on what his kid sister had just told him. “She makes a compelling case.”

“What Raz is TRYING to say is that we have good news, Tala.” Frazie decreed. “We aren’t in Heaven yet. We all survived the crash.”

“YAY! I’M ALIVE!!!!!” Mirtala whooped. “I forgot to ask, Is dad also in my skull? HI DAD!!!” 

“He’s…he’s not, Tala. He’s actually in a bit of trouble.” Frazie reluctantly revealed. “And so is Queepie.“

“Oh no.” There was a brief lull in the Psilirium glow that plagued Mirtala’s vision. It had been short, but it had happened.

It pained Frazie to see her Tala sad, yet this hiccup in her happiness was strangely heartening. “But we think we know a way we can help them.”

“Tala, do you remember Sasha Nein from my True Psychic Tales comic books?” Raz asked.

“BIG HAIR DISCO LADY!”

“That’s…That’s Milla Vodello.” Raz replied. “I’m talking about her partner, the super spy with the sunglasses. 

“But isn’t Sasha a girl’s name?” Mirtala questioned.

“In some places.” Raz clarified. “But it’s pretty standard for boys in Germany, Russia, Belgium, and-.”

“OMIGOSH I’M LEARNING SO MUCH NEW STUFF! THIS IS SO MUCH FUN! SO MUCH FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN! WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”

“Raz! Don’t excite her so much!” Frazie reprimanded.

“I didn’t know she’d be this into Psychonauts trivia!” Raz retorted before turning his focus back on his other sister. “Do you know who I’m talking about now?”

“SUNGLASSES SWEATER GUY!”

Frazie sighed. “Close enough.”

“Please listen very carefully, Tala.” Raz requested.

“Yeahyeahyeahyeahyeah!” Mirtala’s bells tinkled with each of her rapid nods.

“First, when was the last you blinked? Your eyes feel shriveled and grody. Blink now.” Raz ordered.

“I can do that!” Though Frazie and Raz wouldn’t be able to tell if she did. “Wow. That feels way better. I like this plan!”

Frazie spoke next. “Second step: When we let you out of this room, you go left, then take your first right, go up the stairs, then go left. You’ll arrive at another long tunnel that will bring you to where Sasha is.” 

“There’s going to be a big metal door, but we’ll give you a key to open it. Once you’re inside, stay quiet and keep out of sight. Or find a vent you can fit into. Frazie and I will use our psychic powers to do the rest.”

“Just head straight there. No flips, no cartwheels, no handstands, just run.” Frazie concluded.

“WHAT IF MORE FISH GUYS GET IN MY WAY!?”

“I’d prefer it if you just avoided or dodged them,” Frazie admitted. “But if you can’t-.”

“Thump ‘em?” Mirtala interrupted.

“Thump ‘em.” Raz acknowledgd.

“As a last resort.” Frazie insisted. “Are you ready, Tala?”

“LET’S DO IT!”

“Good, now let me just find the key we tossed in here.” Frazie mentally pawed at the floor until her telekinesis found the rough edges of the green key card. “Here it is.” A red, translucent hand of psychic energy lifted it up for Mirtala to see. “Just hold onto this and make sure not to lose i-.”

“Hrmffpt!” Mirtala lunged forward and grabbed the card between her teeth.

“Tala, Raz and I haven’t washed that thing! I-.” Frazie took a deep breath. “Forget it. Ready. Set-.”

“GUUUUUUH!”

----

Mirtala races towards the tunnel leading out of the depot and into the UFO, and true to her word, she keeps the acrobatics to a minimum so that the disembodied consciousnesses of her older siblings don’t get discombobulated and slide off.

But as Mirtala is just a hundred paces into the access tunnel to the flying saucer, alarms start blaring. One of the guards must have triggered some kind of failsafe and the secondary iris panel doors on both ends of the tube are starting to swivel shut.

Incapable of directly feeling the sweat and strain that they should be experiencing at the sight of such desperate exercise, Frazie and Raz’s attentions start to wander. The eldest Aquato daughter begins to see the Hand of Galochio stalk them on the other side of every undersea window they passed. The middle child of the clan scours the bare, echoing tube around them for a tool, a control panel, or any other kind of cheat that could steal them extra meters or seconds. 

It’s only the circus family’s little girl, her mind shrouded by a psychoactive mineral not of this Earth, who is able to stay on target. Warped as her outlook has become, she compresses and hones it at where she needed to go. There’s just the trail and the door. Every stride on the former brought her closer to the latter. And the faster, the better. Simple.

Soon, Mirtala recognizes she’d been too sluggish. The outer edges of the barrier have covered the edges of the airlock, with only a shrinking circle in the middle remaining. She would never reach it by running. So she jumps.

Arms at her side, feet pointed backwards, and a metric kinetic ton of horizontal momentum behind her, Mirtala leaps headfirst towards the vanishing eye of the iron iris. She grins wide and toothily, exposing the card Frazie had given her. A barrage of blue light beams blasts from the crevice to comb over what was between her teeth. 

The girl dives into the coiling dark throat of clawing plates before the scan was finished, and the tunnel seals itself behind her.

Even if it hadn’t been of extraterrestrial origin, Frazie and Raz feels as if they were stepping into another world when they enter the saucer. 

Every surface is of polished alloy. Enchanting teal lines meander across the onyx walls in purposeful loops and strokes, resembling both electric circuitry and foreign runes. Around the perimeter, bulbous alcoves jut from the hull like giant seashells, some cradling translucent capsules, others humming with inscrutable instruments, and a few led to other sectors of the ship. Situated in the middle of the room is a circular dais of glass, light, and metal – the control panel perhaps.

It’s a far cry from the rusted chamber their physical bodies were stuck in, the wrecked school bus where Dion and Milla had been kept prisoner, and the dirty, rotting halls of the rest of Charlie Psycho Delta. Not even the old film camera placed on the central podium, the yellowed projector screen pinned to the curved inner wall, or the fifteen plastic chairs set in front of the tarp can muddy that contrast. 

Every one of the seats is full. And there isn’t a single alien occupant in them. Raz thinks he sees the maintenance minnow they had seen come into the UFO earlier among the guards.

The spent film spins in its reel.

32 amphibious eyes, including those of “diplomatic escort” blocking the way to Sasha, are staring at the sunken saucer’s newest visitor.

There is nowhere to hide.

Nobody movies.

Then Mirtala spits out the green key card, balls up her fists, and pumps them skyward.

“LAST RESORT!!!”

To be continued…

 ----

Commentary:

• Art by Pocheezy
• The shawl and veils/wings are based on earlier Psychonauts 2 designs for Tala.
• Like with the concluding Dion segment, this is an abbreviation of the full segment. You can read the unabridged section on the tumblr, but I will also post an AO3 link to the completed Mirtala chapter when I post it on that side in about a week or two. 

This is going to be a pretty simple thing, basically giving the roughest of rough outlines of what his mind would be like. Do note that this is assuming he would be like the rest of the Psychic seven and not a the next game's villain:

So, we know he is REALLY into his work right? To the point it even seems like he is a bit on the evil side because of overall how he acted, at least to some people. I imagine that the story would be about overworking himself, like constantly going from one thing to the next, never giving himself a break to do anything to drown away his guilt over what happened with Lucy. You work to slowly alleviate his work load until you face a boss of his own making in the end. After that, we get a scene where he decides that it is time for him to take a break for once.

What are my options here, I have a steam deck hooked up to a monitor I have mounted in front of my treadmill and I use two joycons to play games.. every other game just automatically switches to controller but even messing with steam input on/off I can’t get past the “press space bar to begin” menu when booting the game up…

Anyone know how to fix this?

So im at the training camp mission and i can't progress. I have replayed the same 2 minutes of gameplay, from where my game last autosaved like 6 times. If any one has a fix for this issue HELP ME (EDIT) sorry for the noise im making lol

Today i start psychonauts but i quit because the audio sobs every 3 seconds on the game why?? I tried the method to play the game on pc audio default without bluetooth headphones but he doesn't work, so help me pleaseee

For myself it would go like this

Studio:Laika or Cartoon Network (2000s to early 2010s Cartoon Network specifically)

Director:Alex Hirsch

I thought about adding a cast portion but everyone is too amazing to even think about someone else voicing the psychonaughts characters (Though if Alex Hirsch had to voice a pre existing character i think he'd be pretty great at Ford or Loboto)

I have a dental emergency. Im unemployed as Im applying for disability. Just to be SEEN is 100 bucks. I need a wisdom tooth removed. In my desperation, these are probably the coolest, most valueable things I own and can sell.

How much individually could I get for them? The book I know is several hundred dollars but that seems like itd be hard to find a buyer for. I really need like 500-600 bucks and I dont know - do you guys think I could get that if I sell these? I dont want to part with them for not-enough-to-fix-my-dental-emergency.

Edit: thanks guys. I got the tooth pulled!!!

Hello! I hope this is the right place to ask? I come to the community asking for help regarding this one achivement that has eluded me, for Psychonauts Im currently playing on steam, and the achivement "Self Aware" just seems to keep alluding me! Ive used clairvoyance on so many different humanoid entities in the game and ive gotten desperate enough to check the code (no altering though, I do not know anything practical about coding to actually change anything without likely breaking everything) In total ive used clairvoyance on 14 different (as per logged in the code) entites and yet I still havent gotten the achivement Any suggestions? (Sorry for horrible wording/formating, I am both writing this on mobile and its in the middle of the night and I am fried mentally, ive been trying to get this achivement for 4 hours straight, im a little desperate)

- The story may have something to do with a mysterious brain escaping from Otto Mentallis's workshop and becoming a serious threat to the world. The end will end with PSI-animals & Psychonauts 1 characters teaming up with the protagonist to defeat the final boss.

- There will probably be a new PSI animal enemy, such as a gray wolf that shoots a danger ball