whoops?

[andaisq]

Morty knows he shouldn't be screwing around with multidimensional shit. It's dangerous, it's impractical, it's blah blah blah. But it's a potential key to unlimited energy, how does nobody see that? He's built a dimensional siphon (it kind of looks like a cardboard box with a funnel and a TI-84 taped to it, but it damn well works), keyed in the dimensional coordinates to a random plane, and by God he's going to use it.

He flips the switch and waits for the energy bar to fill up.

It does! It fills up very rapidly. Then it explodes, along with the box. There's rather more smoke than there should be, and once the smoke clears someone is standing there.

"Whoops?" Morty says faintly.

Comments

[subtly_artistic]

Good, I kept forgetting my knife and having to go back to my dorm for it so I wouldn't get stopped. Although that would have gone away as soon as I passed AD.

[andaisq]

Well, it's always good to be prepared, but Whateley won't require you to keep your companion knife handy.

Her rod lets out a bell-tone. Ah, there's the translation spell. This won't feel like anything in particular, don't worry-

"-testing, one, two, three?" she asks aloud.

[subtly_artistic]

"Four five six."

[andaisq]

"Excellent," Carson sighs. "That was- well, it wasn't going to give me a headache, I'm not delicate, but it does get a bit irritating after a time."

"Do you want me to be the one to take you to the infirmary?" Morty blurts out. "It's just- um. I know the way?"

[subtly_artistic]

"I don't see why not."

[andaisq]

Mrs. Carson raises an eyebrow. "Speaking of which: Mortimer, before I forget, you'll be retaking Interdimensional Threat as a tutored course, detention in Hawthorne for a month, and I want you back with your therapist until you can work out some way to stop yourself from doing idiotic things when you're having an episode. If that means getting Mr. Conway to physically pin you to the ground every time you get near an Allen wrench unless you can explain what you're doing with it, then you do that. Are we clear?"

Morty grimaces. "Yes, ma'am."

"Well, don't let me detain you," she says, and steps out the window to sail back towards her office. (The window shuts itself with a wash of blue light.) Once she's safely out of sight, Morty resumes breathing.

[subtly_artistic]

"Are therapists usually - psychics - here?"

[andaisq]

"Huh? Yeah, some of the really good ones. Not all of them, though. I sometimes work with Louis, but usually I'm with Doctor Bellows, and he's just a baseline with a psychology degree."

[subtly_artistic]

"Huh, at home you basically can't go into the field unless you have a little arts. I was studying to be a therapist."

[andaisq]

He nods. "We don't really have all that many psychics. You can train for it even if you don't have the talent, but a trained baseline can't even approach the kind of power you get as a mutant, so most of them don't bother trying. Plus, we were doing psychology before psychics were even a thing. Force of habit, I guess."

[subtly_artistic]

"Yeah, I suppose that would change things. So what are vaccinations like in real life?"

[andaisq]

"They come at you with a little needle full of a clear liquid, it stings like a bastard when they jab you, and it feels like somebody slugged you in the arm for a couple hours afterwards. And then you don't get hyperplague. I've never had a bulk vaccination, though, so that might be different." He declines to contribute the mental image of about fifteen hypodermic needles sticking out of Bella's arm, suspecting that it would be unhelpful.

[subtly_artistic]

"Joy."

[andaisq]

"Little bit, yeah. But having been vaccinated is nice. Polio was not a fun experience by anyone's account. Anyway, shall we?"

[subtly_artistic]

"Yeah, lead the way."

[andaisq]

He does so.

Down through the halls of Emerson they go. Boys stare, wondering dimly about the presence of a female of the species.

Morty grits his teeth. "Sorry, I probably should have mentioned it's, um, single-sex housing. So. This looks a little bit weird, possibly."

[subtly_artistic]

"Is it a suspicious time of day or just an unprecedented social event?"

[andaisq]

"Not unprecedented, just... weird. I don't think anybody's going to assume this is a walk of shame thing, though. That would imply me having physical contact with a pretty girl, which is, uh..." A nervous, self-deprecating chuckle. "Implausible."

[subtly_artistic]

"...If you say so. I don't have the local stereotypes but I'll take your word for it."

[andaisq]

"Mm. The assumption is that if I tried to flirt I'd have a fit of Diedrick's and end up screaming at you about how I'm a superior life form and probably vaporize you with a cardboard ray gun."

He considers. "Though, I mean, they're not necessarily wrong."

[subtly_artistic]

"Diedrick's?"

[andaisq]

Morty makes a sour face. "The mental disorder of choice among mutants, especially Devisors. Characterized by fits of egomania, along with regular mania, plus a tendency towards obsessive and antisocial behaviors. Most of the time I'm pretty much alright; when I'm in a fit, I'm Doctor Insano. I was having a fit when I built the machine that summoned you, for reference. I'm pretty sure I actually said the words 'I'll show them, I'll show them all!'" He shakes his head in disgust. "What a fucking tool."

[subtly_artistic]

"Oh. I haven't had nearly enough actual therapy training to begin to comment on that and I'm sure the locals are better equipped anyway."

[andaisq]

He shrugs. "The therapy thing isn't really for treatment, anyway; that's all about how the wires in my brain line up, nothing much they can do about it. It's mostly just to keep me from feeling too shitty or not shitty enough about the stuff I do when I'm riding the crazy train."

[subtly_artistic]

"Gotcha. How often does this happen?"