Yearly Evaluation

Log Title: Yearly Evaluation

Characters: Meggan, Low-Light, Psyche-Out, Selena, Dr. Steen

Location: Medical Center - Command Level - Pit I

Date: August 12, 2023

Players: Bzero (Psyche-Out), ConcealerTFU (Meggan), Doomflower (Dr. Steen), Dunmurderin (Low-Light), Scaythe (Selena)

Summary: Psyche-Out totally isn't using Low-Light as a guinea pig.

As logged by Psyche-Out - Saturday, August 12, 2023, 8:03 PM

Medical Center - Command Level - Pit III

The base infirmary is a spacious room, with high ceilings, blue tile floors, and plenty of room in which to walk around. The place is brightly lit by row upon row of fluorescent lighting. There are about six beds ready for use, with fourteen more that can be readied if necessary. Each bedside is surrounded by state-of-the-art medical equipment, in addition to the more standard medbay fare like trays of supplies and such.

Beyond the recovery ward are a pair of double doors leading into the surgical ward itself, which includes six separate operating tables and the best surgical equipment the US goverment can provide. A smaller room to the side is set up as a biocontainment ward, including an armored window through which doctors can monitor the patients inside.

While not a place to set someone's mind and soul at ease...it's a place to spend time healing...to watch the large, industrial-grade 12-hour clock on the wall, and consider the virtues of being more careful.

It's that time again, folks! Cooper has put it off and put it off and put it off but now, he has run out of excuses and dodges and has been Told to show up for his damn psyche eval appointment or else his range time is going to be cut off. No more bullets until you make sure your mind is right. Now *go*. And so, here he is, creeping around the infirmary near Psyche-Out's office in hopes of delaying the appointment for just a few minutes more. Those who are familiar with this song and dance and Low-Light's general dislike of the infirmary unless he's actively bleeding, will recognize this resistance as largely performatory.

Dr. Steen is here, too, but he's in the Infirmary at his desk...apparently texting on his phone. But to be fair, he doesn't have any patients.

Psyche-Out waits outside the door to his office, arms crossed with a deep frown on his face. He exudes an aura of someone important whose time is being wasted, but at least he resists looking at his watch while he waits for Low-Light to arrive for his appointment, which was 21 minutes ago. Psyche-Out came into the Pit on one of his leave days to see Low-Light, and he doesn't look pleased to be left waiting.

Low-Light spots Psyche-Out and sighs. That is not the look of a happy shrink. "Hey, I uh... I woulda been here earlier but I didn't want to come," he says, taking a drink from his emotional support thermal mug.

Dr. Steen glances up from his desk, but just observes the exchange for the time being, not wanting to interject unless he feels he needs to do so.

Psyche-Out chuckles and smirks. "At last, an honest answer. We're off to a good start." He opens the door to his office. "Shall we begin? I know it's not your favorite activity, but I'll try to make it as painless as possible. The last thing I want is to hurt you... but it's still on the list," he jokes(?). He's wearing his base ACU but with his computer-assisted Lobot-style headgear wrapped around the back of his handsome blonde head.

Low-Light looks into Psyche-Out's office as if checking for car batteries and thumbscrews. "Yeah, saw it on a shirt," he says, looking back over his shoulder. He shifts from foot to foot. "...Okay, let's do this..." He says this as he takes a hesitant step toward the open door. "You promise you're not gonna make me cluck like a chicken?"

Dr. Steen shakes his head, thinking to himself he really needs to be brutally honest with Kenneth one of these evenings, and let him know just what others on the base are saying about his attitude. Then, he suddenly gets a thought: what if he's intentionally making them uncomfortable because he wants to do it?

Edwin thinks about this for a moment, and it preoccupies him for the time being.

Psyche-Out's office is as innocuous as it was last year -- a desk, some comfy couches, inoffensive d cor. There are a few additions -- a workbench to the side so Psyche-Out can work on his sonic weapon projects between appointments, an updated computer he can control from his headgear, and a Keurig coffeemaker for faster and more efficient delivery of caffeine. Large bookshelves remain, as well as his framed doctorate degree in experimental psychology.

Low-Light takes a deep breath and steps into Psyche-Out's office. He's stepped out of planes wearing parachutes made by the lowest bidder with less trepidation. He examines the room, attention focusing first on the workbench and then on the Keurig. "...can we leave the door open?" he asks, aware that he sounds like a kid asking that the hall light be left on, as he makes his way to the couch he designated as his on his first visit.

"Of course!" Psyche-Out replies with a smile. "Would you like me to turn on the sonic disruptor for privacy, or do you want Lifeline to hear if you start screaming?" he asks with a sharklike smile. Psyche-Out makes over to his comfy chair and sits. He doesn't gesture to any specific couch for Low-Light to sit, allowing the night spotter to choose to sit wherever he feels most comfortable.

Dr. Steen sighs much like he does when Joes begin talking on the public channel about going on a junk food binge, and he facepalms at his desk.

Low-Light would feel most comfortable sitting in Waffle House. In Georgia. He snorts at Psyche-Out. "Funny man," he says, settling back into the couch which he has decided is the most strategically positioned in the room. He rests his thermal mug on the floor, hands on his knees and stares at Psyche-Out. "Ok, headshrinker, let's get this over with."

Dr. Steen is sitting at his desk in the Infirmary. Currently, he has no patients. His colleague, Dr. Rich, has a patient appointment tonight in his office.

Low-Light is in Psyche-Out's office. Willingly. Mostly. Not really.

Psyche-Out is in his office with Low-Light. At Low-Light's request, the door is partially ajar, allowing some of Psyche-Out's evaluation to be heard from outside the room.

Dr. Steen is half-expecting for Cooper to nope out of his psych appointment early, so he's remaining alert in case he has to dash after him.

Meggan is looking for where she lost Sean. She was talking with him in the elevator about that Selena should wear a tux and he should wear the wedding dress but then he vanished.

Damn ninjas. Selena's just here to check fire extinguishers. Someone got crap duty again but hey, it's inside.

Meggan looks where she sees 'Dad' and she smiles. She then blushes as she spots Selena. "Um, if Sean recommends a tux and he wears a dress to the big event---I dunno why that happened."

Low-Light is playing chicken with Psyche-Out, staring at him. Whoever talks first loses - that's the rules he's playing by. He's not going to be the first to say something. He already said something, it's Psyche-Out's turn to be the one to talk. He's just going to sit here and be his usual stoic self. Gonna use the same kind of patience he uses out in the field. He can sit in a tree for three days, he can sit on a couch for however long it takes for this session to end. Yep. Not gonna say a word. Nope. Nope. Nope. "...So, you wanna talk about my nightmares or what happened in Vegas or me getting shot in Jersey?"

Dr. Steen's expression softens when he spots Meggan. "Evening, Kiddo! What are you up to??" As Selena comes in, he smiles warmly. "Here comes the bride to be..."

Psyche-Out leans back in his chair and chuckles. "What would YOU like to talk about?" he asks. "I do have to run the standard assessment -- you know the drill -- but I'll use the RF to get us both out of here faster. But I'm here. Do you WANT to talk about your nightmares? I mean, of course you don't, but it might be useful to explore them."

Meggan just smiles and winks at Doctor Steen for second before she giggles slowly. "Oh me? Just talking to Selena after talking to Sean. I don't know if I am I am going to be able to figure out what side I am going to sit at for the wedding. Sean's family but so is Selena. Besides, I'm hoping to convince our bro-cousin to give her a bachelorette party but I realized we can't do one for Sean. Because if we got him a stripper, it'd have to be Selena or else he's cheating on her."

Low-Light grumbles. "I've been exploring them for as long as I can remember," he says, drumming his fingers on his knees. "...they haven't been too bad lately. The Evil Green Tennis Shoe showed up about a week ago, but he just mean-mugged at me and left after a couple of my teeth fell out. Space Diamonds haven't shown up for a while, but they're more weird than anything." He sniffs, rubbing at his nose. "....took a week off last week, went fishing with... a friend. Not a dream, that was real. Caught a couple lake trout, went to a steak place in Boise. Was a good trip."

"Tricky business, isn't it? Weddings," Dr. Steen hmphs. "Back in my day, we had to go courting for a while before we got engaged." He says it with a straight face, so it's hard to tell whether or not he's kidding.

Greathawk looks up from ticking off the extinguisher from the list. "Oh come on. Y'all have to have something better to gossip about?" She grins, chuckling as she turns, "Welp now my family count's at 2 for here then." Good natured grin that fades, "I'm... ehh. I'm not a stripper, Meggan. I mean really. I don't get nekkid."

"Curious, is that Coop in the hotbox? If so, I hope he feels comfortable with me after our date together where we went to a Cracker Barrel together. We tried to eat their pancakes there but they tasted..." Meggan wrinkles her nose, "Gritty so we left. We then went to a Waffle House where I asked him about his intentions with me. He stated that he has none other than to see if he can ditch me but he keeps failing at it." She smiles, "To be fair, I tried to ditch me too and live my life as a boy but high heels and other parts of women's fashion spoke to me. Selena knows what I'm talking about. I worked hard to get this curvy model out of that boxy jock build I was assigned. Took a lot of effort but..." She shrugs before she looks back at Selena, "I was not saying that you are a stripper. I just feel like if we got him a stripper, it's not right because he should only have eyes for you and those hentai girls he downloads memes of."

Meggan sighs, "Besides, if you were a stripper, we couldn't afford you. You're priceless, sis! The best we could afford is Dad dancing on the rafters again..."

Psyche-Out nods to Lowlight, listening and watching his reactions. "As you know, I'm not one for the idea of inherent dream symbolism... I see them more as random Rorschach stimuli onto which we can project our own narratives. More important than WHAT was in your dream -- how did these dreams make you feel?"

Dr. Steen is bound by patient confidentiality and can't say WHO is in the other office with Dr. Rich... but it probably isn't too difficult to tell. "Yeah, I can't get hired to entertain at the wedding because my asking price for sure valuable entertainment is far too high. It's not every day you get to see that kind of talent."

"I'm sure I can find you some boots that'd fit. Dr. Steen. be an honor to see great dance talent." Selena's happy to joke along, taking time to socialize. "Besides, all we got right now is there's been an engagement. That's it. No ring, no plan, no when. Not even what kinda paperwork." she grins, "All y'all getting all hyped up is cute."

Low-Light looks at Psyche-Out, then mimes daubing something on an invisible bingo card in front of him. "...that's one," he says. "How'd they make me feel? Well, the shoe is annoying. Him stealing my teeth is just weird. And the Space Diamonds are freaky, uncanny but mostly harmless." He shifts in his seat. "...I've had those since I was a kid, you know that. They're just...background noise. Kinda get nervous when I don't have them."

Low-Light shifts again in his seat. "...d'you hear about what happened at the Waffle House in Escalande? That guy I ran into in Vegas was there; tried to steal my truck - broke out my window, didn't even check if the door was open." He lets out a sigh, instead of the usual blowup he's given every other time he's mentioned it. "...had a couple bad dreams after that."

"I just can't wait to walk Dad down the aisle and give him away to Uncle Tommy." Meggan looks up at the ceiling and wonders if she can spot any lost apples up there. She tries to not get into further trouble with Selena. She's convinced she hurt her.

Edwin just glances at Selena, and grins. "...Yeah, I know. Just messing with you," he admits, clearly relaxed and comfortable enough now to be joking around." He turns and smiles at Meggan. "As much as I love entertaining that idea, kiddo, there has been no proposal yet. But I'll let you know if there is one."

Psyche-Out leans forward. "Were these dreams different than the others? Was the invasion of your personal domain -- your truck -- in a non-combat situation -- a sleazy diner -- triggering in a way that, say, random Cobra troopers shooting at you is less personal? Have you felt more nervous or anxious in public, social situations since then? Has it become more difficult for you to be the center of attention in a group?"

Low-Light shifts back, pushing into the couch as if he's going to bury himself in it. "...No. No. Waffle House isn't sleazy. Maybe... a random Cobra trooper's never tried to steal my truck. No. No, I hate being the center of attention just as much as I did before I whooped on Skeeve." He grumbles, looking up at the ceiling. "It was a tower dream."

Edwin decides to put on a pot of coffee, humming happily to himself as he scoops the coffee grounds into the filter.

Psyche-Out nods with an expression of deep empathy. Faking empathy is one of his useful skills as a psy-ops agent. "I know those are difficult for you," he says quietly. "Have you had more difficulty trusting others since this violation? Even your friends among the Joes? Not just me -- real friends?" he adds with an attempt at disarming levity. "Have you experienced mood swings or sudden changes in your emotions?"

Meggan shrugs, "Ok, take your time. I mean, you can't always get a boyfriend that comes back from the dead to be with you. And also a younger, twinkish version of his prime self. You got lucky, Dad. I'd have snatched him up if he wasn't Uncle. Though, he does need to start saying things to me like 'One more thing, Meggy!' and then tell me about a talisman that will give me the strength of an oxen or the ability to climb like a monkey." Concealer winks, "I know the good historic TV shows. I followed them."

Low-Light snorts. "'Difficult'... you have to go to college to learn how to deliver understatements like that?" he asks. "No, I trust my friends as much as I did before. Which... okay, that sounds bad, but no, I'm not expecting anybody I'm close to to try and double-cross me. My mood swings are the same as always: from bad to worse. It's not other people I'm having trouble trusting. It's me."

Greathawk peers at Dr. Steen, "ooooh so I'm not the one eyebrows deep in romance now am I?" she walks over and gently elbows Meggan, "So... Is this one of those secret secrets or one of those secrets but rumor mills running hot n heavy?" A pause, a smile at Meggan. "Dont want t' cross a line with my teasing though so..."

Psyche-Out nods. "I gather you're still having trouble sleeping? I can give you something for it. Not anything addictive or chemical..." He stands and walks over to his worktable. "I've developed something that can trigger sleep rhythms in the proper sequence to make sure you have the most effective rest possible." He turns and looks at Low-Light. "It might have a setting to suppress the need to sleep as well, for emergency missions..."

GAME: Low-Light PASSES an INTELLIGENCE roll of Average difficulty.

GENERIC ROLL: Low-Light's generic roll fails.

With the gentle elbow, Concealer smirks. "It's not my place to say who Dad is spending his evenings with," says Meggan with a giggle. "It's a complicated story. When you find out, you'd understand why I have to be careful about these shadow persons or whatever storms brewing." She looks around. "So is it Spirit or Psyche-Out in there? I'm hoping it is Spirit. I heard Psyche-Out is the scarier one to meet. He's like Doctor Crane from Arkham."

Low-Light shrugs. "Only on days ending in 'y'," he says. "Some nights are better than others." He looks wary at the mention of a sleep aid. "...this isn't one of those things that's going to turn my head into a timeshare for demons or evil spirits or daytrippers? Because if I end up meeting Pinhead...ok, that'd be kinda cool, but I don't want to end up like John Malkovich in that one movie..."

Meggan, Edwin, and Selena are talking about how Sean is in love with the vacuum cleaner from Tele-Tubbies while poor Cooper is explaining why he wets the bed to his therapist.

"Things are...very romantic right now," Edwin confirms to Selena. "Romance is definitely in the air. Absolutely a thing that is happening right now."

Greathawk blinks.. peers at Edwin, then giggles, "Good for you Dr. Steen! I'm happy for you!"

Psyche-Out chuckles. "Not THIS one," he says, leaving the implications that some of his other experiments might. "All this does is use sonics to gently guide your brain through the three stages of NREM sleep and into deeper REM sleep. And, at a preset time, gradually guide you back. It's like a white noise generator for your brain. You could always test it in the field and report back." He smiles reassuringly.

GENERIC ROLL: Low-Light's generic roll fails.

GAME: Low-Light PASSES an INTELLIGENCE roll of Average difficulty.

Edwin blushes faintly. "Thank you. It's still blossoming, but getting very serious at the same time. Not sure where it's headed, but I'm very much enjoying the journey," he admits as he pours out a mug of coffee from his coffee maker.

Low-Light looks Psyche-Out over, carefully, a barn cat sizing up a fox. "I've used white noise apps before. Got about three on my phone. They help some. Who presets the time? And does it do anything about making the dreams not suck?"

With a grin, Meggan says, "One day, my Slow-Light will come to his senses and finally stop sending restraining orders to me," teases Meggan as she looks around. "I should maybe go to bed."

"Good night, kiddo. Don't give up on Cooper, he's definitely worth getting to know," Edwin imparts a bit of advice.

Psyche-Out frowns. "Unfortunately, it won't help with the dreams -- in fact, it might make them worse, to be honest, because you'll be getting deeper REM sleep. But YOU would control the settings. It's simple, and I can show you how. I've read your patents on light intensification devices -- if you're not a genius, you're at least a savant. I could use your input and feedback, and you may become even more effective if you can actually SLEEP between missions. Lack of sleep destroys your brain."

GAME: Low-Light PASSES an INTELLIGENCE roll of Average difficulty.

GENERIC ROLL: Low-Light's generic roll succeeds.

Low-Light blinks. "...you read my patents?" he says, genuinely surprised. And oddly touched. "...yeah, well... I guess I could try it out, see if it helps me stay out." He does *not* say 'what's the worst that could happen' because that is just giving the universe permission to find out. "You swear this isn't some kinda mind control thing? You're not gonna use this to start some kinda underground fight club?"

Concealer smiles, "Good night, Dad!" She waves to the others. "Alright, sleep time. Be good all!" She winks before she heads out.

Psyche-Out chuckles. "No offense, but I'm saving that one for Duke. And if I want an assassin for hire, it's probably cheaper to just rent a Night Creeper than risk one of my prototypes in the field. These things aren't cheap to make. Luckily our black budget covers a lot of sins," he grins.

Low-Light stares at Psyche-Out. "Ok, Duke, I'll grant you - but hiring a Night Creeper? That's just insulting. You could dress me in high-vis and I could still out creep those creeps."

Psyche-Out chuckles. "Well, I didn't know you'd be so easily hired as an assassin, but trust me -- if I need someone killed, I'll go to you first." He holds up his little toy. "But it'll be your choice. Although if this helps, I'll expect friend prices."

Low-Light snorts. "We're not friends, you said it yourself." He smirks and holds out his hand for the toy. "How do I work it? If it's a suppository, you can forget it."

Psyche-Out chuckles. "It goes around part of your head. You can wear it under your hat." He shows Low-Light how it works, and then quickly runs through the assessment. No matter the results, Psyche-Out approves Low-Light to spend another year in tall towers with high powered rifles. Good help is hard to find.

Low-Light slips the device on, under his hat and gives the standard answers that will let him spend another year in tall towers with high powered rifles. Because it's either that or he has to find a real job.

Psyche-Out stands, and offers his hand. "Congratulations! You are just the right amount of crazy to keep putting yourself in the line of fire for the US government! Good luck! See you next year," he laughs.

Low-Light shakes hands with Psyche-Out. "Not if I see you first," he says, then, because he's not a complete jackass. "...thanks for coming in, sorry for being late. Still, was only 21 minutes this time. Better than last year."

Psyche-Out chuckles. "I know you hate it, and I don't blame you. I think we have the routine down, though, and I appreciate you helping me out with the sleep scanner. I do hope it helps. Let me know if there are any unforeseen side effects," he adds with a smile.

Low-Light nods. "Will do," he says. "I'll send you an email or you can follow the screams, whatever's easier."

Psyche-Out laughs. "Whichever comes first. G'night, Low-Light!" He stands, and shows the shooter out of his office, turning off the lights behind him.

Low-Light leaves the office, heading at speed out of the infirmary. Cooper is free! Psyche-Out gave him a doohicky!