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A lazy day at the Motherlobe wasn’t often. When Lili gave it thought, there was always trouble. Agents were called at the drop of a hat to assist others in different parts of the world. In the Nerve Center, the constant monitoring gave way to immediate missions once an operative spotted an enemy on the prowl. Research performed in the variety of labs often resulted in new, greater understanding of the mind. It also could have been a slow cooker of a concern like the imploding budget, a thorn in the sore sides of Hollis and her father. They were as busy as bees working to prevent the colony from breaking apart.
While the Motherlobe was a second home, it was curious to think that less than a few months ago, her opinion about the grand structure skewed toward the negative. Malaise followed her whenever she pondered the Psychonauts. The world didn’t need them anymore, despite countless attempts, nudges, and pushes by others for Lili to follow in her father’s footsteps. The structure was as brittle as rust, breaking more day by day, as monotonous as a droning, faulty engine. And with Lili in the middle, pulled by people who insisted they knew what was best, she quickly grew to prefer flowers, no matter how gossipy the ferns were on bustling weekends.
But as winter settled, a swell of snow spread across the Quarry, along with new sentiments. The waters froze in thick sheets of ice surrounding the Motherlobe. The encompassing crags and slopes allowed snow to pile high, as much as ten times taller than her. Her private garden, awaiting spring’s bloom in their annual slumber, mimicked the bluffs. With the temperature dipping lower and lower, the exacerbated chill was too much for most Psychonauts, which was why Lili found herself enjoying the chatter in her ear.
“...and remember in True Psychic Tales 238 when Agent Dolores Mendoza used her confusion grenade as a volleyball? She made it larger than her head, and timed it not to blow until she spiked it on those kidnappers! And she didn’t get caught in the blast by activating her shield right after she hit it,” Raz exclaimed, and he finally drew in a breath.
“That issue's misleading,” she bluntly remarked, and he gasped, unable to hide his shock as his mouth dropped. “See, it’s a great issue, but my dad told me what really happened. She was able to make that grenade huge, but she got caught in the blast. It detonated in her hands because she didn’t time it right. Dad told me Otto had to swoop in and save her.”
His shoulders slumped. “What? So, what happened to the kidnappers?”
“They were confused, but Otto had to use some fancy-schmancy tech to subdue them. It was something like a huge net with hints of psilirium woven into the polymers. Think of it like trapping a whole bunch of flopping fish.”
“Whoa! How’d he do that without getting psilirium poisoning?”
Lili shrugged. She didn’t ask questions when it came to Otto. Sasha often explained his methods using enough details to induce a yawn, while Otto remained teasingly cryptic. When Lili was younger, the times he did reveal his tricks resulted in awe, and as Raz stroked his chin, she supposed it would do her good to ask both Otto and Sasha once again.
Lili’s gaze swept across the break room. Conversations intermingled with the music from Milla’s speakers. The quaint holiday party took place entirely within the confines of Milla’s lab, and she had outdone herself with the décor. As jolly songs played, the sleigh bells only a slight rattle on Lili’s nerves, boughs of holly were strewn across the sprawling windowpane. The cozy interior was bathed in soft scarlet and jade hues, the mood lighting adding to the natural, twinkling glow of her chandeliers.
Together, Lili sat with Raz on one of Milla’s many plush cushions. While Milla flitted between agents, and Sasha observed the outside with a glass of eggnog, they were quite satisfied with the beverages warming their hands. Hot chocolate filled their seasonal mugs to the very brim, and stray, wispy steam rose to tickle her chin.
While Raz idly spun his cinnamon stick, a look of deep-set concentration crossed his features. He almost resembled a figure on the front page of True Psychic Tales, which betrayed the oversized sweater bundling him up. Lili wore the same brand, immersed in its tightknit, woolen warmth. Their high collars could have been deemed scarves with how much they covered their necks and chins. It reminded Lili of how Dogen would often tuck his head in his onesie when nervous.
It was almost odd. Mere months ago, she had little to no interest in the Psychonauts. She thought she was like a piece of refuse, tossed away as the world moved on while she was left to fester in a garbage pile. The problems between herself and her father mounted, frustration piling as work consumed him. And as expectations, along with looks from other agents, shifted toward Lili, she believed she was as good as a shadow.
But then, Raz landed in her life like a comet striking the earth. He dived into camp with slightly less grace than a swan. With a dream in his heart and mind, Raz was convinced the world still needed them. She would have disagreed, had a series of shocking events not unfolded.
All of a sudden, her eyes opened to the glimmering possibilities. Excitement and adventure that had long been ignored or disavowed returned, reminding her of a door left ajar, one that had been present the entire time. All she needed to do was kick it wide open, and she had.
Her father was safe and sound, and his kidnapper remained sequestered in his chamber. The foundation of the Psychonauts had been unearthed, but not toppled. Wrapped in a variety of truths, Lili came out of everything with a smile she hadn’t worn in many, many months.
In the end, she was grateful to Raz. It might have been coincidental that his arrival kickstarted her zest for the Psychonaugs again, as Oleander would have gone through his scheme, but she looked at her world with a new perspective. Familiar ebullience returned, the same passion she once had as a little girl refusing to be snuffed out, as she burned like wildfire.
Her only regret, when Raz gasped and grinned at her, was not pummeling Gristol more.
“Maybe Otto used a pair of psitanium-encrusted leather gloves as a countermeasure.”
She snickered, high-pitched and teasing. She lightly socked him in the arm, a reflexive habit in the making. As Raz huffed, wearing a half-smile, Lili leaned into his shoulder, bringing her knees in and cupping her mug over them.
“That’s your big idea?”
“Think about it, Lili. He was working with psilirium, right? He needed to be extra protective, and psitanium-encrusted leather gloves are perfect! He wouldn’t be touching the pieces, no matter how microscopic he mashed them down, potato masher, and they could slip into the polymers.”
He finished with a quick sip, only to wince as the cinnamon stick jostled. He quickly chomped it before it could tumble out, and sent the other melting, crumbling half into his drink. Clearing his throat, Raz beamed with the same whimsical charm he carried with him when he fell from the sky.
Lili grinned. As the music began to fade, a slow, yet merry orchestral song encircled them. Her shoulders were lowered, their tension all but obsolete. She used to feel their consistent tension, her hackles raising and irritation peaking as it seemed no one fully understood her.
While there may have been times when Raz bothered her, or she jumped to conclusions, he reached out and clasped her hand. When no one else would dare to hold it, or she refused the proffered grip, Raz was her present. And as she caught a glimpse of fresh, mellow snowfall drifting by the window, she nestled closer, glowing in their shared warmth.
“Well, when we’re done, why don’t we go ask Otto?” she asked, peering up at Raz.
He gasped. “We can go right now-”
Her finger flipped up faster than he could blink. “Oh, no. I’m enjoying my hot chocolate. The True Psychic Tales know-how is gonna wait for me.”
Raz frowned. He took a breath, seemingly prepared to argue, when he glanced at his drink. Lili caught his reflection in the ripples, the pinched nature softening before her very eyes, and he hummed.
“It is good hot chocolate, isn’t it?” he admitted, and lightly grazed Lili’s back with his elbow, “Good company, too.”
She snorted. “Are you trying to make this a moment?”
He smiled with every tooth. “Is it not one already?”
Lili stiffened, meeting his cheeky gaze with a narrowed leer, then opted against swatting him. Instead, as she sipped her hot chocolate, she, too, melted, and let her head rest against his shoulder, his laughter matching the tune of pleasant bells.