[CANON RAZ] Waiting.

[purpose_of_the_goggles]

Raz paces in the parking lot of Whispering Rock Summer Camp. He's chosen this spot specifically for the Psitanium alloy lying underneath the surface. Ford Cruller, his mentor, had mentioned that Psitanium made psychics more psychic; frankly, he needs all the help he can get on this.

He fights down a momentary feeling of panic. It's been washing over him on and off ever since he discovered the burnout in his brain; not so much for the loss of psychic abilities, per se, so much as the fact that it could mean the end of his Psychonauts career before it started. It was so unfair to lose his chance after he'd worked so hard and done so much to make it in. His career would be over before it'd even started, and it'd be back to circus oblivion for him. He shudders at the thought.

He taps his foot. Bakura should be here any moment.

Comments

[milleniumspirit.livejournal.com]

"We," one of them says in a distinctly snobbish attitude, "are psychosomatic magical specialists."

Bakura gives Raz a 'just go along with it' look.

[razthepsynaut.livejournal.com]

Raz raises an eyebrow incredulously, but decides to see exactly what they can do here. The clowns and acrobats have all paused in their work to see these elves as well.

[milleniumspirit.livejournal.com]

The two hurry forwards to examine the big icon, poking and prodding at the damage there. High-speed, seemingly incoherent jabber bounces back and forth between them.

Bakura just waits patiently.

[razthepsynaut.livejournal.com]

Raz moves forward, trying to overhear exactly what the hell the two elves are trying to say to each other. When that fails, he sighs and steps back.

The circus clowns are eying both the elves and, oddly, Raz with an air of annoyance and suspicion. For Raz, particularly, there seems to be an element of unhappiness, as if he's broken some sort of bond of trust. Raz doesn't understand this.