She's been reading up on Aumento's power and may need to have a conversation with him at some point about working together more often, his power seems like a useful security measure against backlash related fuckups. She's developing protocols that work but she's had some scares along the way and is lucky none of them have yet caused permanent damage to her, or anyone else (less likely but still possible if somebody has to bail her stupid ass out because she can't take care of herself. )

She has a water bottle in a sling full of colourful liquid it's actually just flavoured water and she has several more flavour pods with her) and several zip bags with snack bars in them in her pockets (zip bags are faster than stripping off the wrappings). All carefully selected to be something she really enjoys just for the taste even when she has a mental block around things like 'dehydration' and 'low blood sugar'. She has several different kinds of alarms on her phone because even if she's willing to drink or eat things she won't remember that she should without prompting especially when focusing on something else. And being less focused in a dungeon is...also a bad idea. Fortunately her ability to care (at least in a high level moral sense) about negative consequences to other people is mostly unimpeded even at high levels of backlash, even though her affective empathy for their negative emotions is somewhat dulled) so she doesn't have a problem staying focused on her job in a dungeon.                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

They fucking codenamed him raspberry?! It was clever when he did it with his surname but now it’s just stupid! He was so pissed, he was so pissed—

Interesting dungeon, though, which was a nice surprise. The tequila lake was particularly interesting. Maybe they’d let him keep some if he got this done fast. In Russia, he’s always had to go around with a handler—usually Klimka—to keep him from wrestling horses or whatever when he was wildly backlashed, but this time he’d have to be a responsible boy all on his own.

Well. Stranger things have happened.

This is an odd dungeon.  It just attacks people out of nowhere?  And it's all candy themed?  And there are...bacon trees.  So, maybe not candy themed, but food themed.  And it's a new arrival, they don't have any records of it.  So who knows how long it's been around.  Maybe just one piece would be fine, the victims haven't had any problems yet, right?

Mass manipulation seems...kind of weird.  He doesn't really have the physics for the detail work on it, but Fiona looks competent and she's a combat esper and she's still alive so presumably she has a grip on her power.  He role is to keep his teammates alive, smash things, and shoot things, in that order.

He's not really clear on how 'psychic illusions' work, but if Raspberry can conjure up an unbreakable psychic weapon that works on a monster, that would be so sweet, Tim basically doesn't bother using melee weapons more complicated than a rock.  He's tried it before and they don't tend to survive his power use unless they're so overengineered that he has to power up constantly just to carry them.

"It would be nice to have that analysis, if the monsters are actually made of candy I bet they'll break pretty easily if I make them heavier, sometimes dungeons are doing like exactly enough magic to support their physics breaking monsters and if you break physics just little more they kinda fall apart. Otherwise, I can do crowd control by making things slower while Aumento here shoots them."

"Yeah, chocolate pigs?  Probably not paying much attention to the laws of physics.  I mean, they'd melt, right?  I bet a pyrokinetic would take care of them instantly.  But, well.  Confluence.  They get us, instead, we'll just have to break them under their own lack of physics."  Little grin for Graviton?

"It's pretty satisfying actually, when a dungeon is mauling people with kinda ridiculous monsters to just shut them down hard with very little effort."

"Yeah, I can see it.  My power's like that, a little bit.  If there's like, I don't know, regular mosquitos that inject you with super malaria or something?  It'd only take a little bit of power to protect against that.  And uh, speaking of power, do we want to do compatibility testing?  Since we're here?"  Would Graviton like a fist?

Fist.

"Oh, I didn't expect that, wow."

"Hey!  That's pretty good, beats the last few weeks worth of opportunistic fistbumps.  I already have a partner, but.  I uh, I assume you've probably heard about my healing setup?  It kind of went viral after Arrakis."  He's clearly happy about it, but not really used to being a minor celebrity just yet.

"I did hear about it yeah."

"Right.  So, usually I just sit in a room with a bunch of people and let them heal over time.  But if you, personally, get injured, you're welcome to see if I'm doing anything.  We're pretty compatible, there's no reason we couldn't, uh.  Guide.  While you recover.  Maybe between dungeons or something, we can figure it out if it ever happens.  Although I hope it doesn't, of course."

"Yeah, with my backlash..well if I get injured I just go ahead and make the injury worse because I'm not tracking it as a problem...I can tell if I'm in pain technically but it's just...background noise, and I need specific prompting to do anything about it. Also I'm more likely to do things that risk injury in the first place."

"Ooh.  That'd be a bad one to have in a dungeon.  Er, part of my power is kind of a status checker?  I can tell if anyone affected by it is hurt.  I guess I should leave that running on you, huh?"  He pauses for a second.  "No wonder we're compatible."

" Yeah, that's a good idea if you don't mind. You get tired right? I guess it's like, I forget that I have needs and you can't ignore the need to rest? I uh, got pretty sleep deprived during hell week. Also dehydrated which was what landed me in the hospital after I finally passed out."

"Yes'm, exhaustion.  It's not so bad, just a tiny bit to check status is pretty cheap, and I don't have to keep it up constantly.  Just check every so often."

"I'd appreciate it, I have checklists and protocols but...it's good to have backup on that sort of thing."

"Yeah, of course!"  Tim will get a good grade in Team Player or he will die trying.  Definitely at least one of those.  "Anything else I should know about your backlash?"

"Um, that's the most important thing I think, I might want you to help refill my drink at some point, to make it faster. Uh, it's just flavoured water, the flavouring makes it appealing to drink, so I stay hydrated. It's much harder to make myself drink plain water."

"Okay.  I can handle that, feed and water the esper."  He makes a few notes on his phone.

"Right cool, yours is pretty straightforward I guess, how about you Raspberry?" He's Korean so she figures the codename was a random throwaway to fit in in the West, and it's rude to comment on people's codenames in any case, sometimes it's hard to find a good one.

Working across a second language is leaving him well behind the other two’s patter. It takes him a few seconds to recognize that he is being called on, even. Man, they actually use the codenames here, too. Fuck me. “Ah, ‘Misha’ is fine to call me,” he says after a moment. It’s been a little while since he had to actually speak English rather than type it in an anonymous forum. His accent is no doubt strong. Oh, well. “I am fine. Easy backlash. No worries about me.”

The stares that that elicits cause him to think that maybe he should be slightly more forthcoming. It’s so weird to have to introduce himself in a situation like this, after years of having a mostly fixed team. “My powers make illusion of other people’s wishes. You dream of something really hard, I give you it for maybe one hour. You need example: you have chocolate pig? Imagine melting pig in your brain, I make pig to melt. Easy. Maybe gross. But easy.” He smiles reassuringly. Americans love smiling.

Then he rolls his eyes suddenly. “Right. I must to ask first. One of you is okay to touch your thoughts? Is very gentle, you don’t notice.” He smiles again for good measure.

English kind of sucks, actually, but it’s better than his Korean!

"You just see the thing we're imagining?"

Mm, difficult words time. “No, I feel desires like baby tugging on arm asking for go play with friends. Cannot see. Just feel, with my art—xart?—chest dahbstyep beat.” Oh please let them know dubstep, the sounds of his childhood. “Is not invasive or have details. Is like little mystery for me sometime.” Another over-broad smile for the Americans. Maaaaan, he did not like this asking-first thing. He felt like a car salesman. “Is more easy with more strong desire, right? So really kansyentreyt with brain like” he scrunches his face demonstratively, “is most amazing idea in world, then is easy. No need dig around like pey-lyen-toll-ah-zhist.” How did he even learn that word? He doesn’t remember.

"Hmm...that's probably fine then, it seems useful."

“Probably? Is definitely useful. Maximum useful.”

Truly, Timothy and Malinin are divided by the language they have in common.  "Um, that sounds...fine?  Are they just illusions, or?"  He's clearly wondering how exactly this qualifies as a combat-applicable power, if it's just weird illusions.

“Xxxokay, is this your feerst time with illusion powers? Is fine. I teach you.

“Illusion disappears after. Things illusion caused, don’t. I kill you with fake sword, yeah? Your body thinks you are dead, so you die. Boom. You want me to fly? I fly onto roof. Now I’m stuck on roof. You see?

“You don’t see. I see you don’t see. Okay. You want example? I can do example.”

Okay, sure.  Tim is filled with burning curiosity to see a really cool example!

We feel the bloom of excitement smoldering within us! Hotter and hotter, spreading outward from its spark, nursed by surprise, grown strong amid the skepticism!

Time we learned a lesson.

Misha lifts a hand, folds it into a finger gun, and says, “You ask, I give you.” He drop his thumb to shoot his finger gun and winks, then lifts it up to blow smoke from the finger muzzle—

—and a huge gout of flame leaps from his fingers, like someone spitting alcohol into an open flame. It lands on Aumento’s shirt, which promptly ignites, searing flames blackening and melting the fibers.

“Axxxx, no!” he shouts, clutching his head and then rushing forward. “Too much wishes! Too much! Quick! Pull off shirt! Pull off!” He grabs at the rapidly disintegrating remains before the man burns alive.

Ohshitfire.  He racks on his power 'till he's able to withstand the flame.  Thankfully he's not yet in his dungeon garb, and also thankfully his dungmat-inspired shirt does not melt and adhere to skin like polyester might.  It'll burn relatively cleanly, which isn't...exactly...what he wants.  In the meanwhile, yes - shirt comes off.  He won't burn, but his shirt might.  Well.  He's got his shirt in his hands, he'd really love a bucket of water right now!!!  Where do you even dump a burning shirt when you're in a DRT briefing room, the floors have rugs on them?!?

“Good thing for have emergency bucket of water!” He yells, reaching down to the ground and hefting a convenient bucket of water. Without asking, he heaves it over Aumento, drenching the man’s entire torso and soaking the ruined shirt. The fire is extinguished, now, but the smoke is still nasty.

Oh, no. He hadn’t thought about the smoke. This room doesn’t have an automated sprinkler system, does it?

BEEP.  BEEP.  BEEP.

BEEP.  BEEP.  BEEP.

BEEP.  BEEP.  BEEP.

BEEP.  BEEP.  BEEP.

Man.

"You okay there?"

"I'm fine."  He checks his phone - yep, still good.  "Just another shirt fallen victim to the plague of power use."  Maybe if he tears off the burned bits he can wipe the char off his body?  Mmmwell it's better than nothing.  And he's now he's damp.  "At least it wasn't my pants, this time."  Man, I would LOVE some kind of bath sponge thing.  One of those gentle ones.

Wordlessly, he hands over a bath sponge. From the grin on his face, he’s completely forgotten about the fire alarm—which is not actually the case, the thing’s still going off and he’s very aware of it, but now is time for snarky posturing, not cowering and hanging one’s head.

“You need a shirt, too, maybe?” Or maybe not, given what was under the shirt. Tyranny of esper glow-ups. Meow.

"Uh, thanks."  Hey, this is my favorite scent?  Didn't they discontinue it?  Scrub-a-dub-dub, one esper in the tub briefing room.

After a few more moments, the alarm is shut off.  Well.  Maybe they can ship this one back to Korea and ask the competent espers to run it as a duo?

No, he's an A-rank psychic combat esper.  Better keep him around, for now at least.

As Aumento dries off, Misha holds out a perfectly pristine shirt.

Aumento’s shirt.

Aumento’s original, all-natural, totally un-burnt and bone-dry shirt.

... you know what, sure, he'll wear a psychic shirt that might or might not disappear on him when Raspb MISHA stops thinking about it.

And their hands brush and whoah.

He had clever quips all prepped but their hands touched and whoop now they lie in pieces on the floor. It’s all he can do to let go of the shirt without grabbing this man’s arm and yanking him into a big shirtless hug.

"Good compatibility for you two?"  She looks at Misha,  "Shall we check?"

Yep.  Nope.  It's shirt time.  Does it even matter, I bet he could guide through the shirt, it's not like it's even FOCUS.  Sure, they can check, he'll just be.  Over here.  Being normal.

Oh right, yeah, they should probably check, too. He holds out his hand. Wouldn’t it be funny if—

Nope. Nothing. Just a wide, flat, featureless ocean of thank you, next.

"No dice. Oh well."

Finding one compatible person is already plenty of luck for the day. 

“It wasn’t bad, on my end at least, so at least we do not need to avoid each other or anything. So that’s a win in my book.”

"Not bad  no. Just..meh."

"Um.  Right."  Wearing another esper's power feels oddly intimate.  He's not sure how to feel about this.  "Anything else we need to do, because I should get my kit ready so we can run this dungeon."  And take this shirt off.  Or ask Misha to take it off for me.

The only thing on his agenda was making sure the skeptics respect and/or fear the power of illusion, so, “Nye’, I am all good. Maybe one of you wants practice thinking useful thoughts, but is easy enough. I show you as we go.”

She double checks her phone alarms are set, they've gotten pretty automatic by this point but that's not  an excuse not to check.

"I'm all good if you are."

"Alright.  Meet you at the portal in a few, then."  And off to change before his power wears off.

Nothing beats a teleport. In the literal sense that he gets there first, and takes some time to find things to lean on louchely in preparation.

Well, Tim's gone back to his staging room.  Takes off the shirt he's wearing, he tosses it on the bed.  He is, at this point, under the impression that he must've really wanted a shirt and Misha's power provided.  He goes through his checklist, gears up, and puts on his game face.  It doesn't take him long, but it looks like he's definitely not first.

She was already prepped but she goes over her equipment again, and uses the washroom.And then it's game time.

Well.  It seems that absence did, in fact, simply serve as a break from how hot espers are.  And now he's faced with two espers who are compatible with him, one of them extremely so.  Both of whom recently saw him shirtless.  Well.  No time for that kind of thinking.  He carefully picks up the thoughts and put them away.  "Ready?"

"Ready."

“Always. After you.”

Well, he is the designated tank of nearly every group.  He'll check the Camera Onna Stick to confirm there's nothing in the way, and - leap.

Assuming Misha doesn't chose to object she'll climb up next.

Welcome, welcome, welcome!  Tons of fun and loads of bliss!  Why yes, that is delicious bacon hanging on the trees in front of you!  The higher it is, the fattier and juicer!  The lower, the crispier and crunchier!  Come on in, have a bite!  Mm-mm-mm, that's good eatin'!

“So,” he says once he’s ascended, “what is with Americans and bacon? Do you actually want bacon trees?”

"I'm Canadian so I wouldn't know but I'm sure there's some people who want them. Maybe they should steal some trees just in case they survive."

Wouldn’t you rather have a bite?  The smell is wafting down.  So juicy, so crispy!

“It’d be good for the novelty, at least.  We should leave the core at the portal and let them try to rescue at least a few of them.”

“Sure, but—are bacons hot? Do they stay hot on tree? Eh—now I want to test.” But this isn’t the time for that. Far more important that they find something for him to show off his power on. For reasons.

"Leave that for later maybe."

"On the way out, I think."  Okay, dungeon map on his phone, where's the last known closest location of victims?

Not too far away!  Maybe a kilometer thataway, near the lollipop shrubbery.  They're shrubberies that have lollipops dangling from them.  Known flavors are blue raspberry, regular raspberry, and lemon.

"Well let's head thataway then."

“We are in a hurry? Anyone desperately wishing we arrive faster?”

"How long can you keep that up?"

“Is depends on who is touching me, yeah?”

The actual answer, of course, depends on how he goes about it. But that’s less pithy and doesn’t involve shirtless hugs.

Well.  He'd love a hoverboard for three, that'd be absolutely sick.  And he's willing to offer Misha a hand in order to achieve that.

“You know, is easier if you specify result than process. ‘I want to be there soon’ is better than ‘I want a motorbike.’” Not that he isn’t delighted to have them looking for useful stuff. But come one. Can’t he have a little creative freedom?

"Last time I didn't get specific, you set me on fire."  Illusion fire, but still.  Okay, fine.  There's a victim group over there, and he'd love a way to get the victim here, or get there to the victim.

“Yes! But was very easy fire! Actually easier than bucket of water!

“You don’t understand? Is okay. Me neither!” Well. He somewhat understood, but certainly not well enough to convey in a second language.

“You must trust process. Believe in process. No try to control, just feel. Like Star Wars.”

Next time, we're trying this outside of a dungeon first, what the fuck?!  Okay.  Fine.  He takes a second, and tries to capture the sense of being in-tune with his brain.  The feeling he gets while he's ruminating on a run.  What does he want?

He really just wants the victims out, and the monsters dead.

We did try it outside a dungeon first. Tutorial’s over, gloves are off; now we get to play for real.

We want to be the heroes. There are people and we will go to them. We will save them. We will get them out of here. We shall be as angels, swooping in to—

We do still want the hoverboard, though. Is that an option?

No.

Sorry.

We have what we need. We can get there. In fact, we’re already—

“Close your eyes. Both of you.”

I'm going to regret this, aren't I.  He mantles himself and Graviton in a few wisps of power.  Just in case.

"...Okay."

Eyes closed.

Wow. They actually did it. That’s flattering.

It does actually tend to make people better at wishing for things, but mostly he had said that to buy a little time. This was an excellent opportunity for a very specific kind of wish fulfillment: namely, that he was fucking bored with Ha Si-Yeon’s weird rules and now he finally can stretch his wings. He has been doing his best to relax inside this legal straitjacket, but come on. The last time he’d gone this long without friends in his head, he was a mousy blond kid with a stutter. He would sooner die of backlash than waste this chance.

It’s what I deserve, anyway.

Is that kind of talk any way to get people moving? No. We can do better than that. We need a message, something to draw them along—

We want to remain here, though. Many of us like this place! We could hang out here forever, in this comestible solitude, far from our worries—

Then we bring their worries to them.

Misha pulls out his cell phone and mimes dialing a number, then puts it to his ear and starts to speak, in perfect if high-pitched English. “Hi, honey, where the heck are you? We’re already late! No, I told you to be ready—come on! Run! Head straight—do you see, way in the distance? I’m waving at you!” And so he is! Waving and waving, an arm over his head! “You can come back after your appointment, but so help me if you make us any later—! Okay, see you in a moment, dear, mommy loves you. Buh-bye.”

...What the heck is he doing? She opens an eye to squint at him suspiciously.

What.

He’s doing Your Mom, of course.

As in an impression of her. Into his disconnected phone. You know, normal dungeon-rescue activities.

“Oi! Didn’t I say close your eyes? I’m not mad, just very disappointed.”

He grins wide enough to fit an ear of corn lengthwise. In his normal voice, he says, “Alright, show over.”

What????

“Anyway, neurotic people should be headed to us now. That just leaves loafers and anyone with disabilities to clean up. Also: monsters.”

"I don't think that's ethical? Or safe...We should get going in case the monsters follow them."

Okay, I have learned so many things today.  Fuck.  "How are they coming here, foot?  Illusion teleportation?  Flying train?"  

“Oh. I … assume they walk? Or run, given how fast they are moving now.

“Do you want them to go even faster? Is much harder.”

"You assume?"  She digs a set of binoculars out of her bag and squints through them. "Yeah I think there's people coming."

Well, shit in my fucking beard.  "Okay.  Let's just.  Let's just go get them."  Before he does something else.

“Yes, assume.” He stares blankly for a bit and then remembers that he has to explain this kind of thing to people. “I just guarantee they get out safe. Not how. How is details.”

He tries to formulate a more detailed explanation in his second language and fails. And sadly neither of them seems to be wishing very hard to understand him before they’re already jogging toward the little figures in the distance.

A kilometre isn't far at all for espers who stay in shape to jog.

Misha's power has rallied at least some of the victims.  Pulled them forth from where they were hiding, and gathered them around a towering trellis, which hosts dozens of plants laden with delicious-looking candy apple vines.  Something about it looks like a natural place to gather.  It's pretty notable-looking!  One of the victims is actively poking the trellis while talking to one of her fellow victims.  The edges of her mouth are smeared with chocolate and caramel.

"Over here, rescue espers! Is anyone injured?"

"I think we're okay.  Not so hungry, anymore.  I thought I was gonna die in here, after the bird came after me."  Looks like half a dozen vics of various ages.  The oldest looks to be a man in his late forties, they're probably all competent to head to the exit.

Misha has wandered towards the trellis and is staring with violent intensity at the vines on it. He squints at it, and then shakes his head and squints again. Nothing else seems to interest him, including the victims.

"We'll get you outta here. Hey Aumento you want the front of the group?"

"Yeah, I can take point.  Alright, everyone!  The exit isn't too far off, we'll be out of here in a few minutes.  Just keep your eyes peeled.  My power gives protection and strength, so if you get attacked, just punch whatever is attacking you.  It won't last long.  Aside from that, you need to stay with the group.  I can protect you from monsters, I can't protect you from getting lost.  Okay?"  

There's a muttered agreement.  Nobody wants to be here any longer, and two out of three competent-seeming espers is better than zero espers.

Yeah that's what you get for staring at candy plants like a kid. 

"I'll bring up the rear then. If any more  birds  show up I  should be able to put them on the ground before they get close. I'm good at birds."

"Coming, Misha?"  What's got him so obsessed?

He doesn’t look up, though his face does react with surprise. “Mm? Yes? Yes, I follow in moment. Take rear.”

Hm.  He gestures at Graviton - cover civilians.  Then he rests his hand on Misha's neck, in the hopes that guiding will snap him out of it.  "C'mon, we've got to get these folks out of here."  I have no idea how expensive that was, let's see...how much backlash is this?

She flashes an  acknowledgement at him.

"Everyone gather close so we can move out of here."

Well, everyone's been through Dungeon Drills in primary school.  They group up, a little hesitantly.  "Are we far from the portal?  Did you kill all the monsters yet?"

"We're not far. We haven't seen the monsters yet actually, you're the first group out and  there weren't any on the way over. But we're very good at dealing with monsters so if anything shows up you just got to stay with the group and we'll deal with it."

"Okay.  Okay.  Be careful, they're sneaky."

Another group member pipes up.  "Is there anything to eat?  I'm starving."

"The support team has snacks outside, we can get you water bottles if you like." She could spare a couple of her snack stash but she doesn't have enough to spare for the whole group. "You weren't eating the food?"

"Just a couple, why?  It seemed fine."

"I don't know if anyone's taken samples of the food yet....well if you're still hungry you can have some granola when we  get out, after the medical team has checked you over."

A third vic pipes up.  "It was totally fine!  The burritofruit were fantastic, it sucked when I had to leave."

Meanwhile, Misha is stuck in place because hoooooooly fuck.

He has to actively work not to let his knees buckle, and as annoying as it is to break concentration, he can’t even summon the discipline to be irritated. Instead he carefully glances up.

“Dude. Warn me next time. Almost ruin pants from shock.”

What the fuck does that even mean.  He almost pissed himself?  But he's a combat esper???  "It's fine.  We've got to escort the vics back to the portal.  Can I rely on you to keep them safe?"  Thank you for that turn of phrase, Bill.

“Yeah, yeah, is no problem. I am still holding onto your wish in case. Is bigger concern to understand dungeon since no visible danger, no?”

"Is there...something...you don't understand...?"  He's still got his hand on Misha's neck, it's - good.  Really good.  And Misha's still has a medium amount of backlash, probably, it's hard to tell because of the sheer intensity of the guiding.

Normally, Misha would snap at questions with such obvious answers, but it’s really challenging to maintain focus on anything other than the overwhelming sense of unity flowing directly over his neck. “Is strange, no? Everyone is fine and only obvious dungeon stuff is this. Is very suspicious in dungeon this big.”

I'm never working with an undisclosed backlash ever again.  "Yeah, I know.  Let's get 'em out and then take another look, okay?"  Misha gets the carrot and the stick: a slightly superpowered lift, but also the promise of guiding.  "Okay, Graviton, we're good.  Misha and I can take point."

"Allright then."

See, this is one of those little cultural differences. The motherland has been winning land wars for centuries on the back of not giving a fig about casualties when a tactical goal was more pressing. These Americans had been raised on Superman stories where you can actually catch every civilian falling out of the burning building every time and not lose the building while you’re dallying. Counting eggs while the fox is eating the chickens, they’d call it at the bureau.

It’s kind of sweet, but maybe that’s the guiding talking.

“As you want,” he says, and follows along.

Tim, were he capable of responding to the narration, would reply that the whole point of the dungeon is to get people out of it.  The only reason killing dungeon cores matters is a byproduct is saving the people in there.  And getting people out is the current section that's time-sensitive.  Misha is capable of looking at the dungeon with whatever the fuck he's looking at back at the portal, after they've saved these people.

Meanwhile, regular ol' non-narration-reading Timothy Bartholomew Delgado is just going to walk his people and also Misha back to the entrance.

And she's bringing up the rear and keeping her eyes and ears peeled in case anything is following them.

Well.  Speaking of following them.  Graviton's likely the first to see them - the remains of a sounder of chocolate-candy-cane-tusk-boars.  They still bear the scars of combat with the first DRT squad.  Unless your eyes mislead you, it seems that they bleed caramel.  They dart from cover to cover, unnaturally silent as they stalk you through the outskirts of the bacon grove.

"Pigs incoming. Gonna pick a test subject and see how crushable they are."

Hey pig  how do you like having your weight increased. She'll go up to doubling  it but she's hoping it won't take that much to crush a ridiculous candy critter.

It's really not very structurally sound, but it's not all that dense either, so it doesn't collapse under its own weight.  Not even at two Gs.  It's suddenly and abruptly unable to take basically any actions that involve physical movement.  It squeals pretty loudly, though.

"Get ready to shoot, I'll lock down the rest when you're ready."

The lack of density makes this cheaper than it might otherwise be she still doesn't want to keep it up for too long especially if they're going to be loud about it.

Oh, goody. He doesn’t have a gun, of course—nobody will let him carry one for some reason!—but he’s got better than that.

“You can have first shot,” he says generously to Shirtless Wonder. “When you are bored, wish them away. Bullets are cheaper.” Also he’s still holding onto a different desire and doesn’t want to drop it yet for a few pigs, but that’s harder to explain and less cool-sounding.

After a youth spent hunting in the New England woods, missing a paralyzed pig at this range would be humiliating.  He doesn't bother using his large-caliber pistol for this.  Two shots, and it stops moving. 

The rest of the sounder is charging closer!!!

He’s standing with his arms crossed in a louche contrapposto. “Is nice shots. You want to get rest of them?”

"Got ' em."

The rest of the pigs  can stop moving now.

"Almost a little boring."  One magazine's worth of ammunition goes into every candyboar bar one.  "Think we can manage a capture on this last one?"

"You got a place to put it?"

By way of answer, he flexes.  "They have a capture setup on the other side of the portal, but it can't be that heavy to carry it to the portal, at least."

"They don't seem to be heavy for their size no. Convenient for me too. Tell me when and I'll let go, you'll have to grab it fast when I do, they move pretty quick."

"One sec."  He wraps his arms around it, and surges his power.  This pig isn't going anywhere.  It squeals and feebly flails, but it's an ultimately futile gesture.  "Ready."

She lets go. It will be able to struggle more once released from her power but presumably Tim can handle it.

Tim can indeed!  It's big and awkward, but it's not, actually, all that big of a deal if you have the strength of as many men as you care to.  It's a pretty hilarious sight, honestly.  Upside down boar, kicking its little trotters, trying to escape the arms of a slightly-inconvenienced young man.  "If it gives me any trouble, I'll just crush it.  Ready for the exit?"

Okay yeah that's kinda funny.

"Ready."

He laughs and claps, and several of the kidnapped join in. They even get a rhythm going. For a dungeon, it is a remarkably relaxed atmosphere! More sporting event than war.

Okay, maybe this guy's useful after all.  "I'll take a bow when I've got this fella in a box.  Any suggestions for names?"  He'll listen to them with half an ear - right now, he's just going to trust his fellow espers to watch for danger, since there's a Big Candy Pig with which he must contend.

"'Candied Bacon' Yeah that was weak..." And off they go again. Hopefully with no further interruptions.

Well, there's no monsters.  But surely Graviton would stop and have a bite of this delicious pan-fried* crispy bacon?  She could just reach up and take a bite.  It's right there.

*it's 100% organic!  whole range!  free of cruelty to pigs**!
**it is not cruelty-free

She's a little hungry and not too backlashed to care at all yet but eating things you find in a dungeon is not a good idea. Maybe it'll turn out the food is actually fine but you shouldn't bet on it.

Well, if they insist on not delaying for some snacks, they'll be out within a few minutes.  The pig can be portaled out via a padded steel crate and the judicious application of superstrength on the dungeon side and a forklift on the Earthly side.

"Okay.  Should just be three more like that and we're good.  I wasn't sure about grouping up the victims, but it paid off.  Does anyone need a guiding break?  Graviton, are you hungry?  Thirsty?"  A little bit of power use reveals she's not injured, at least.

A guiding break? That could be nice—but no.

“I am okay for moment.” It wouldn’t do to be too hungry about it.

"I should hydrate a little. Otherwise I'm fine for now. I have a phone alarm for a snack in a while." She also has phone alarms for hydration but a little extra is better than not enough.

She hydrates.

Well, it's not like he wants to be next to Misha.  It's not like he's got a sudden skin-hunger for guiding and it definitely isn't like he used his power to carry an angry, fighty, giant-ass candy boar half a kilometer.

... maybe it is a little like some of those things.  "Maybe just a few minutes of shirtlessness while we look at the maps?"

"Well if you're doing that anyway  I could put my hand on your shoulder?"

Looking for an excuse to touch a cute boy, who her?

Tim confirms his ordnance and firearms are safetied, then strips out of his vest and shirt.  "Uh, just skin, if that's okay, but you can have as much of that as you need?"

Looking for an excuse to be touched by a cute girl and a very pretty compatible boy?  Surely not Tim.

“Ah, Shirtless Wonder wants return to form,” Misha says with a grin, ripping his own shirt off fast enough to pop a seam. “You want remove own shirt, or should I help again?”

Is removing the pants too much? He fingers the button contemplatively. He did say as much as Misha wants, but also Misha is just barely not backlashed enough to immediately act on that particular whim with two strangers.

"Yeah, please - just the shirt for now, we're not even in a tent or anything."  Tim can accept help with stripping!  It's Normal Esper Behavior, and if he doesn't acknowledge the flush then the flush doesn't exist.

She's gonna roll one sleeve up partway and lean on Tim from one side of him so that Misha can have the other side and back mostly unobstructed.

She's relatively mildly backlashed but several pigs isn't trivial even if they're less massive than real pigs so she's got a noticeable chunk. They won't guide all this off in a few minutes with this much skin contact. 

It's really too bad that Shirtless Wonder is desiring his shirt stay intact for use later. There are so many interesting ways one could destroy a shirt, and they've barely scratched the surface! And sure, from a mission-integrity perspective, it's a good thing, but from a morale perspective!—it's probably a draw, on net. Misha contents himself by helping Shirtless Wonder embrace his destiny the mundane way, and then promptly wrapping his arms around the man's bare torso.

Yeah, wow, him having a little backlash on board to complement Misha's is fiiiiiiiiiine.

Well, it sure is guiding!  He's still pretty tense about it.  But.  Guiding.  That sure is some guiding.

Oh, right.  Graviton.  She's...still a bit backlashed.  He tugs gently on her, then rests his hand on hers.  If she wants more, it's available.  He's not...really thrilled with the situation, but it's got a measurable impact on the success of their mission.

he's not acknowledging the flush and it still exists, this is stupid

Well if she's offering she can squirm a bit to roll up her other sleeve and press that arm against his side as well. This is a little awkward but they can manage it if they try hard and believe in themselves.

Correct!  Awkwardness is like one of those dungeon monsters that can only hurt you if you're scared of it.  He embraces the pair of them, and is so deeply appreciative of all the DRT support staff who refuse to acknowledge the interaction as anything more than just another day at the office.

Misha follows Aumento's gaze toward the various staff busily flitting about like bees. It is really strange how they do this kind of thing out in the open in the West. Not exactly bothersome, though, in this state, with this much guiding. He thinks about them for the first time since he arrived, and wonders what they might be thinking. In all probability, they are too focused on their tasks to bother much with anything else. Do they also hug each other, when it's over?

His arm brushes Graviton's and he flinches it lower, where the pinky brushes Aumento's waistband, and he feels a twinge of remorse for the implied rejection, even though it was just surprise. He moves his hand back to the original position, which is, technically, more efficient for guiding on account of the greater contact. "Graviton," he says uncertainly, "is you getting enough, for moment? Shirtless Wonder is very popular. May need to do reservations like restaurant."

She snickers at the 'reservations' comment "I'll be alright. I don't think I got as backlashed as either of you. We can take a longer break later."

Okay.  Two of them means he's not just focused on Misha and.  Oh.  That's a hand position alright.  Eep.  Well, if he rests his hand over Misha's, maybe that won't happen again.  "I, uh."  aaaaaaaa "Didn't get very backlashed until the end.  Even then it was - fine.  Maybe a few more minutes and then we can go again?  You're alright, M-Misha?"

“I’m fine, I’m fine! Keep your shirt on—oh, right.” Thank you, random internet stranger on the Call of Duty message boards, for teaching me that English idiom. It just keeps paying dividends. “Is never bad idea to have less backlash, but I survive like this.”

"Well if you're sure, a few minutes it is."

A few minutes of guiding later, Aumento's got his backlash down to basically nothing, Graviton's backlash is gone, and Strawberry's backlash is, and I quote, "No worries about me!"  Our intrepid party is ready to travel forth once more.

It takes Tim a few tries to psych himself up enough to ask, but ask he does.  He's an aspiring professional, and mobile guiding is the tactically correct move.  His feelings about it are irrelevant, given that they're not sufficient to cause an operational constraint.  "Um.  Misha, would you like to.  Guide along the way?"  It turns out that he is, in fact, capable of shyly dangling a hand near a coworker.

He cocks an eyebrow at the question, and then looks down. “Oh, just a hand?” He laughs and shakes his head as he grabs the proffered limb, lacing the fingers together. “Is hardly—Yes, yes, we can hold hands. Give me strong hand and Graviton other hand. Then you disconnect from me to draw gun when you two do your fish-in-barrel stunt, yeah?”

Quick nod.  "Usually, it's not worth the extra second to draw, but, well.  We kinda lucked out today."

"Pinning things down to be shot isn't as flashy as crushing them outright but it conserves backlash."

"Yeah, I don't mind it at all.  Your power's a great match for me in that respect.  I've only had superpowers a little while, but I've been hunting all my life."  As soon as I figure out something nice and true about Misha's power, I'll say it.

"I do a lot of accompanying DRT squads in C or B ranks with fast monsters. Turns it into a cakewalk and that way I have lots of people to watch out for me."

"Yeah, same.  My power takes a little getting used to for more than just split-second stuff, so I've got a dedicated DRT team.  Although I'm used to being the one watching out, since I need to ramp up my power on someone if they run into trouble."

Tim will lead his little trio toward the portal as they chitchat.  With the double handholding, he can afford a little bonus power use.  Not enough to make anyone have a wardrobe incident, just enough to take the edge off anything that might occur.

"I like it! Is good, uh, what is word for синергия—cooperate by for stuffy rich businessman. And I am here for all the other stuff." He hums happily. It's hard to be annoyed at being the emergency backup when they're doing a Wizard of Oz thing, holding hands and being chummy.

"Collaborate, maybe?"  They're approaching portalside, now.  "Let's figure out a plan for this one first, please.  How do we want to do this next run?"

Ech, plans. "We are still finish the rescuing before solving mystery of dungeon being dungeon, yeah? Or is dee-arr-tee handle that?"

"Standard operating procedure is to focus on mapping the place and getting the victims out first."

"If you think you can figure something out, we can take that into consideration?  But I'm here to save people, pop cores, and kill monsters, in that order."

"Is very sweet." Honestly, the clarity is nice! Russian esper teams usually put pop core at the top, and leave the victims to the unenhanced squads. This is useful information to know.

It is also cute. He remembers being young and idealistic once. "Okay, American rules, then. Rescue first, then dungeon mystery time."

"Alright.  I'm...not sure how we feel about grouping the vics up like that, since it exposes them to monster attack?  Do we want to grab a group of three to four and then walk 'em out, assuming the monster attacks aren't too bad?"  How come I keep getting put in a position to call shots, I've just been doing this for a few months?  He glances towards Graviton.  He's been doing this longer, but.  He's...well.  He sure is something alright.  Maybe if he were do NOT finish that thought, Tim.

"Walking the victims out in groups means fewer trips overall, and we've got good protective coverage so..."

"And you have me if things go wrong. But you two are good! I think I will have nice stroll in freaky dungeon."

"Happy to have you as backstop, Misha."  There, that's true and nice!  Cool.  Great.  Okay, portal.  Time for the second run!

According to the dungeon phone app, the next-nearest cluster of victims is over near the peanut brittle forest.  Two vics have linked linked up, and there's a third at the slopes of the crystallized sugar mountain.

"I used to be allergic to peanuts. Now I love them. The lure of forbidden fruit I suppose..."

"I have no idea what my power would do for dungeon poison, and I don't wanna find out."

"Hopefully it won't come up..."

“Yeah, and mine probably would not help. Illusion has limits.”

"It does seem like a versatile power.  Illusion up a, an iron lung or something.  But it wouldn't treat the actual problem."  

"Well, if it keeps somebody alive long enough for them to be taken to actual medical care that's usually as much medical care as you do inside a dungeon anyway."

"Uh, do either of you have a preference on how much pain control you'll want before I put you back together with my power?  Just in case it comes up."

What an alarming thing to ask! “As general rule I do not want to be in pain.”

"I should have pain control on board if it's going to hurt a lot, even though if I'm backlashed I won't complain and might laugh it off. I'm supposed to say I'm in pain and approximately how much if asked if I want pain control but it's better to just ask if I'm in pain. It might not be as big a deal if it's going to be healed completely before I get guiding but...it's still sort of unpleasant in retrospect. Also you need to remind me to hold things still, possibly multiple times because I do not care if it hurts to move. Honestly I'm lucky I haven't managed to fuck up anything permanently."

Okay, see.  THIS IS HOW YOU HANDLE A PSYCH BACKLASH THAT INTERFERES WITH YOUR ABILITY TO FEEL PAIN!  YOU TALK ABOUT IT!  He's not actively mad at the poor blue esper, but.  So much could have been avoided!  "Okay.  I'll try to protect you both, just.  My power's healing rate falls off pretty quickly the longer it goes untreated by my power.  I just worked through it when I messed up my wrist, but.  Figured I should check."  Maybe I just wish really hard that Graviton quits moving.  No way to get being set on fire from that wish, right?

None!

Yet.

...Anyway! "We walk and talk, yeah? Time awaits nobody." And into the portal they all go.

Indeed it doesn't.

The Peanut Brittle Forest is due Dungeon Northwest.  In order to get there, our intrepid heroes must pass through the Fondant Flower Fields.  Different colors and possibly flavors.  Surely our heroes will stop and take a nibble, right?

...no?  Fine.  Say, would any of our heroes happen to recognize the smell of unsmoked marjiuana?  Or recognize the white cylinders sticking out from some of the wheatstalks in this field?

"Drugs now? Well there was the tequila which counts I guess..."

"Anyone near that area will probably be lying down and hard to see. Maybe requires search."

“Is that something your power can do, or are we just going to shout and search?”

"I meant that we should call in a rescue team for being certain. Is costly of time to search and we have pigs to shoot. Do American espers conduct manual searches all the time?"

"Well, if a dungeon is dangerous, usually?"  Maybe I should have brought some Dwarves along for this one.  "We do have intermittent drone support, maybe we can just mark this as an area to monitor.  And shout while we're in the area."

"Yeah, we should cover some more ground first I think."

"Yeah, you're right.  Get the folks we know are there first."  Tim will in fact call in and request that the Marijuana Moor be monitored, especially for signs of smoke.  "Wait a second.  What are the odds a dungeon is going to kidnap someone with a lighter?"

"What are odds dungeon can make drug-plant in first place?" Misha asks, squatting down suddenly and staring intently at the plants in the field. After a moment he shakes his head and springs back up. "Bah! Is not time for science yet."

"Yeah, it's just - really weird that a dungeon would make drugs but not, y'know.  Give you a way to use them.  You're right though, let's keep moving."

"Dungeons are weird but...yeah...let's keep going."

Everyone agreed with him on the thing he didn't want to be true. Tragic. He marches across the fields ahead of the other two. "Still no chocolate pigs. Did your rescue teams kill everything before we got here?"

You were at the same briefing I was!!!  "Killed some, at least.  Not like they're all that threatening."  That's not fair, they'd be a menace to someone without powers.  "Well.  Not for us, anyway."

Is that a lock of hair, hidden behind a a thicket of peanut brittle?

Misha is busy examining a different thicket. "What even is this stuff? Is like... lumpy brown cement? Not appetizing."

"It's peanut brittle! It's...mostly peanuts and sugar I think. Is that a person over there?" Hey there!"

Sugary peanuts sound gross, but he's at low enough backlash that this does not immediately come out of his mouth. Instead he walks, cautiously, toward where Fiona was looking, being sure to keep plenty of distance in case this was some sort of dungeon mimicry.

"Hey!  C'mon, buddy, get your shit together, rescue's here."  One of the rescuees is trying to convince her fellow to not stuff as much peanut brittle in his mouth as possible.  She hasn't been successful, if his smeared hands are any indicator.

"Yeah we gotta go."

Notwithstanding that he wasn't ever trained in American-style exfiltrations over in East Russia, Misha also is the only non-native speaker of the local language present, so he just crosses his arms impatiently and waits. If this were Russia, he'd just grab the guy by the collar and send him on his way with a few expletives to demonstrate that he's serious. Let them do things their way, though. If nothing else, it's sort of sweet, and they don't appear to be in any particular—

—wait.

"Movement at dungeon-east from us, five-zero meters maybe."

It is.  A darting brown shape, quickly lost against the peanut brittle trees.  The thought of it strikes terror in the hungry man, enough to get him to stop eating.  If Misha is paying attention, his desire is to not be attacked again.

Misha most certainly is, but he's also on good behavior. "You all want this one? I have wish to pull if not."

"Take it if you can, I only saw a flash of something."  Tim's wish right now is to kill that fucking monster.

"Yeah, I don't know where it is right now either, it was gone too fast for me to react, if you can get it you can have it."

She wants to keep the civilians safe.

So many options! It's been so long since we were this spoiled for choice. There's just something about life-or-death that really hones the will. Everything else recedes into the ether and you get just the brute impulse of the fundament. Well, a good strong sex urge works, too—that counts as the "life" in "life-or-death," though, perhaps? Also spicy carrots, occasionally, for some reason. That was a really good trick.

Are we rambling? We're rambling. Let's move on to today's contestants:

Fear! Death comes! It haunts us like the unfurling monsoon, ever more rain, ever more pain! Churning, whipping, every which way, and we are gorged and tired! There is no rest, there is no rest among these smells!

Passionate! Harrowing! What do we have from our second contestant?

Our grand purpose is these little hapless ones, these lively buds. We will shoo the rabbits and preserve the tender lettuce! Ours shall be a garden of peace! There shall be sun and rain and good nourishment only for them! We shall drive out the predators and the poison and leave only solace!"

Selfless! High-minded! And for the last one, what do we have?

Kill the thing.

That's it? We're usually a bit more verbose—

We don't like murder fantasies.

Okay, sure, but—

WE DO NOT LIKE IT.

Okay! Okay! It was three-to-one, anyway, if you count the other victim here.

We all count.

Okay, obviously we all—alright, this isn't getting us anywhere. Let's just wipe this one away, how about. Forget it ever happened.

Like we were  never       even                      here                                           at                                                       all. . . .

"Oh, fuck! This is the best peanut brittle I've ever had in my life! Hillary, you have to try this! Oh, I just can't stop eating!" he yells, clutching his sides and moaning like it was the best orgasm of his life. The sound exits his mouth, but it echoes, louder, then louder still, appearing at last to come for another part of the brittle-patch, maybe 200 meters dungeon-east of them. And suddenly there's a cacophony of movement toward that direction, thundering away from the victims and towards the voice.

Looks like it was way more than one lone pig, after all.

"Not what I expected. But—should buy us time?" Misha says quietly. "Move fast, no noise, yeah?"

The victims nod, mutely.  The eater is terrified, the abstainer just looks - focused.  Distilled.  Like everything but get the fuck out has been carefully carved away until nothing is left but get the fuck out.

Okay.  That just happened.  It's probably fine.

...

Think about it later.  "Okay, uh.  Next vic is over by the sugar mountain.  Cover me for a sec, I'll check the map."  Once covered, he's looking at the map.  "Yep, we still have eyes on 'em.  Two hundred meters that way, a little ways up the mountain.  We should be able to see them once we're out of the forest?"

...okay then.

"Right, let's get moving before those pigs come back..."

Yep.  Great.  Cool.  Excellent.  Fantastic.  Let's just.  quietly walk out.  The sugar mountain is a little ways north, and they can loop northwest.  Tim gestures towards Fiona - watch our six - and braces himself for a moment, offering Misha his hand.  Will Misha accept, and if so, how's his backlash looking?

Uh, yeah? Yeah, he’ll accept? Obviously? He’s fine, frankly, just a little zing. He can feel his shirt on his back and look in people’s eyes. He is used to carrying around so much worse. But a real person—confirmed real previously!—was offering to guide him, so why the hell wouldn’t he? Is this another one of those Western things, no guiding without consulting a lawyer or whatever? He considers making the joke, but Xa—no, Ha, with a sigh, get it right—Ha Si-Yeon-sunbae isn’t here to appreciate it. So instead he takes the hand and grins mischievously. “You don’t need worry over me, Shirtless. I take on way worse than this back home.”

But if you're holding my hand and looking ahead, I don't have to justify asking Graviton to watch our back instead of you.  "Just a good habit to be in.  Might need you fresh for the boss, later.  And it lets me keep an eye on our little crew."  Sure enough, Aumento's net-neutral on backlash, but it's notably being guided away. 

Yeah she's keeping an eye out behind them. 

"No reason not to do it, if you've got somebody compatible right there. Until Aumento needs his hands free again."

"Exactly.  I'd be doing it for Graviton if she needed it."  And then I'd have to decide how to trust this guy to watch our six.  If it was just me, that'd be one thing...but the civvies...

If he's checking, Tim's desire right now is for safety for their little group.  Everything else is downstream of that.

Already on it, boopsie. Have we not established as much? We could do more, if it would help….

The Dungeon Ruckus subsides after a few minutes.  It's not long before Our Heroes and Our Dungeon Abduction Victims have located the next abductee.  This one's picking his way up the mountain - they're perhaps seventy meters away.  You'll have to raise your voice to get their attention, or get quite a bit closer.

Well they were trying to be quiet so, they should probably get closer first. She will say as much.

"Yeah.  No point scaring off the horde of pigs and then calling 'em all for dinner."  He pauses a moment, then addresses the vics.  "Uh, not that it'd happen.  Graviton here could solo the whole lot of them, she did it earlier."

The nervous candy-eater has objections to this strategy.  "So why didn't you just kill them all, they could come back for us later!"

"Conserving backlash. We still have more people to rescue and a boss to fight."

"Don't you have to kill every monster in a dungeon, anyway?  Aren't they going to come after you during the boss fight?"

"Might be we end up fighting them later, but it's not always necessary to fight every monster in a dungeon. The only strictly necessary things are to get the victims out and secure and destroy the core."

There's probably another law about saying actually, only the core is really necessary, so you should pipe down before we decide you're compromising the mission, idiot. Especially when they deserve it. The law serves the jackasses and never the plow-horse, as his father had said after getting fired when Misha was eleven. So instead he glares at the complainant witheringly and contemplates violence. (Actual violence always sounds less appealing when he's undergoing active guiding, though, so it's less beating the guy up and more tweaking his nose while saying condescending things.)

Where sweet reason has failed, glaring has succeeded.  Misha, you have successfully intimidated a dungeon abductee into relative silence.

Our Heroes have to pick up the pace a little bit in order to get within talking distance of their next victim, since shouting is off the table.  But it doesn't take that long to get within range.  The Mountaineer Victim turns around, points behind them and screams.

It looks like a winged serpent - white and blue mottled to blend in with the dungeon "sky".  It's swooping down from above, fast - 

Well how does it like 2 Gs? Hopefully that will be enough to at least ground it. It usually is.

It does not.  That's more than enough to send it crashing into the dirt.  It's hissing and crawling towards the group as a whole.

"Another delivery for me, Graviton?"  He's seriously considering whether he can out-rassle a twelve-foot-long flying snakemonster.

"All yours now."

On the one hand, Aumento has as much strength as he cares to and training in sport grappling.

On the other hand, this is a monster that doesn't actually have joints, mostly.  And jiu-jitsu is a sport focused around jointlocks.

... Hm.  Those wings, logically, need to hold the weight of an entire-ass snake.  Can he carry it with just the wings?  No, he - wait.  You have colleagues.  Use them.

"How about this: I'll carry the front, one of you carries the tail, and if anything gets remotely hairy, we just kill it?"

"Hey Misha, you want to make yourself useful and grab the other end?"

She's tall for a girl and esper-fit but even among espers men have more raw upper body strength. This is the only reason Misha is being volunteered of course. She's a professional. 

“I do not,” he says as he walks over to the indicated limb and hoists it. Say what you will about the GBE method for managing espers, it does tend to encourage physical fitness. “Why we are doing this and not just cracking skull? Dungeon will do hostage exchange?”

"For science, of course!  And it's only fair that we get to kidnap them, they started it."  He offers a little grin towards the human abductees.  "Misha, I'm going to give you a little buff.  Let me know if you need more.  Or if you need me to kill it so we can save ourselves, let me know."

Tim, in turn, uses a length of rope to mostly-restrain the beast's wings.  They flap ineffectually, but can't resist Graviton's power.  After that, he puts the snake in an approximate headlock.  "Good to go!"

"Gonna let up, if you need me to hold it down a little let me know."

"We've got it from here.  You set 'em up, we take 'em home.  Piece of cake, really."  It's a little harder than he makes it sound, but projected confidence helps with civvies and also his own mental state.  And if it's a problem, he'll just rip its head off.

The score, for those keeping track:

Vicious, hissing, winged serpent: 0

Espers: 2

It is not going anywhere.  It can sort of flail its midsection, but that doesn't accomplish anything except tire it out.

"Cool. You think you can hold that thing long enough for us to take a look over the top of the sugar mountain?"

"It's not like it's hard.  Costs a little backlash, so I wouldn't want to do it for an hour straight, but.  You want to see the view, or...?"  It's not terribly costly, but backlash adds up over time.

"Just wanna get a look yeah, since we're most of the way up the mountain anyhow."

He's...not in love with the idea, since she's responsible for overwatch right now.  Although come to think on it, it's not like Misha needs his hands out to use his powers.  He takes a second, and lets his anxiety bleed through to a wish: don't let the civilians get hurt.  "Sure, quick peek won't hurt, might see some civvies up there or something."

He shifts a little bit, and draws his pistol with his off-hand.

"Should be in earshot if you wanna wait here with the civvies?" Esper earshot anyway but that's what matters.

"Yeah, I think we do - sorry, folks, no scenic view today."

It's a pretty weak joke, but he does get a few titters.

She giggles and heads uphill at a jog. Carefully in case there are any more flying snakes.

You know, it's actually beautiful up there.  Sugar Mountain isn't at the center of this little world, it's probably a little ways Dungeon North.  It looks like the 'edges' of this dungeon are mirrored, which can be disorienting for the dungeoneer.  Base camp is visible from here, and there's a few monsters visible from here.  There's a flying snake Dungeon Southeast of you.  Dungeon East of you there's quite a few monsters, roaming around where Misha's distraction led them.  It looks like they're searching for something.

It looks like there's a cloud floating nearer to you, Graviton.

She snaps a picture with her phone camera (it's a good phone camera) and then...beats it back down the mountain.

The cloud looks like it's attempting to follow, but it seems like it can only drop so low.  It regains altitude, rather sulkily.  (can a cloud sulk?  this one can)

"Didn't see any vics, looks like the crowd of monsters is still distracted, off to the east of us. There's another snake southeast-ish. Also some kind of cloud monster but it seems like it needs altitude so it didn't follow and should be easy to avoid..."

"Must've been what took out the drones, they mentioned that in the briefing, I think."  I know they did, but.  No point bragging.

"Makes sense, anyway since there's no more people to rescue in this direction, or at least no close, we should get going."

Misha gestures with his head. “Let’s go down first, Shirtless. If we wipe out we take everyone in front down with us.”

Aumento lets out a little noise of surprise.  “Yeah, good thinking.  That’s about the only way this thing is going to be dangerous.”  He hefts it briefly, for the benefit of the victim entourage.  “Just an awkward sack of potatoes, really.” Hopefully it’s not venomous.  Or poisonous.  S’pose poison skin would be more of a problem…

…maybe I shouldn’t be so cavalier, poisonous skin would have been a problem.  Well, too late now.

Too late indeed! They march down the sugar-mountain, sky-snake in tow. This is less pleasant than hand-holding, but it does look impressive, which is a nice consolation prize.

And she'll bring up the rear as before.

Getting out isn't difficult, this time.  Misha's distraction has bought our heroes enough time to rescue their civilians.  It does take a little while to arrange a secure holding cell for one(1) giant-ass winged serpent, though.

"I don't know about either of you, but I could use a little guiding break.  And - Graviton, have you eaten?  Drank?"

She considers this "Hmm...I've had a bit of water but it would be a good idea to have some more, and a snack around now. You want to be the filling in a sandwich for a bit?"

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea.  Let's grab a few snacks and meet up in the tent in a little bit?"  It's just guiding, it's not a big deal.  "Uh, I'm okay with going down to shorts if you two are?"

"Fine by me."

“Whatever you need, Shirtless.”

"Okay.  Great."  In thaaaaat case, Tim is going to swing by the snack bar recovery station and grab a decent assortment of goodies for himself and his new coworkers.  He'll take a minute also splash himself in the face with some lukewarm water and towel it off.  Then he'll head to the guiding tent.  Is anyone else home?

She's stripped down to shorts and a tank top and sipping her flavoured water bottle.

Misha is not in the tent! This is surely fine and normal and nothing to worry about.

“Hey.” Wow she’s pr-COWORKER. “Hungry at all?  Or uh, should you eat?  Even if you’re not hungry?”

"Yeah I'm hungry, I did bring my own snacks but whatcha got there?"

“Trail mix, some kind of vegan jerky that looked interesting, a couple granola bars.  And uh, one flavor each of yellow, blue, and green Esperade."  Carrying this many snacks AND drinks would be a challenge for someone who doesn't routinely wear a bulletproof vest.  He's got the Esperades tucked between his shoulder and the shoulder-strap of the vest.

"Mmm I usually stick to plain water with flavouring unless I'm sweating a lot...what flavours of granola bars do they have today?"

"Peanut butter, chocolate, orange and raisin, and honey oat."  He offers Graviton all of them, she can take whatever makes her happy.

"Ooh peanut butter, I'll have one of those and save my snack bars for later."

"All yours."  Tim's going to dig into the orange and raisin, himself, and sip at his yellow esperade.  "So, uh."  Come here often?  "Have you, er, been an esper long?"

She unwraps and noms her granola bar "Little bit less than a year, you?"

“Just a few months, now.  It’s been pretty crazy.” Okay, you’ve finished your granola…time for guiding. But that’s scary deal with it.  “Um.”  He strides over to the beat-up couch with the plaid cover and sits.  He could probably be tenser.  He could be a violin string!

"Yeah, with the confluence and all...I'd just gotten into the swing of things myself and then...confluence. Not like it was a surprise but..." She sits down next to him and tries to figure out whether it would be better to just go ahead and put an arm around his shoulder or if she should let him escalate.

“It was a little surprising for me.  Not something I was really used to tracking?”

What if.  What if he just - leaned over a little?  Brushed his shoulder against hers?  It shouldn’t be weird.  It’s just guiding, and he already agreed to it and if it’s awkward and scary, that doesn’t matter.  He decided he would and zero facts have changed.

"Well, I wasn't really tracking it before I awakened either. Wouldn't have been much point since there's nothing you can really do about it as a civilian..."

Her arm can go over his shoulder, slowly so he has time to object if he's gonna object.

Well.  It’s not exactly an objection!  But.  “I should - probably take my vest off.  And uh.  My shirt.”  He doesn’t make a move to stop her, though.  And leans in a bit as her forearm brushes against the back of his neck.

"Sure."

She gives him a little space to do that.

Most vests have clips.  Of course, a metal or plastic clip wouldn't survive contact with his power.  So the harness of his vest is more woven than 'clipped' into position.  It's not sexual for him, or sensual.  But the thought of being perceived while undressing is not a cozy thought for Aumento.

But he has a task to perform.  He confirms that his safeties are on, then sticks his hands inside of his vest, then lifts it off from the inside.  It's carefully draped over the DRT-standard folding table nearby.  After a moment, his shirt comes off as well.  "Okay, uh, ready when you are?"  He edges closer to Graviton, almost - but not quite - touching her side.

She snuggles closer and puts her arm over his shoulder. It's a little awkward because he's taller than her but they can manage it.

"Good?"

He'll slouch down and into her a little.  "Yeah.  We're good.  Um, do you mind if I...?"  He pats her lower back, then reaches a little bit behind her.  If she permits it, he'll have his arm wrapped snugly around her waist.

"Not at all."

She's very aware of how hot he is but this is not actually recreational so she's trying to be cool about it.

Everyone's hot here!  This is a real problem for espers who aspire to be Professional.  His arm wraps around her, and his hand lands just above her hipbone.  Then he squeezes her into his side.  "So, uh."  Fuck what do you talk about this is a colleague, gotta keep it - aha. 

He drops his voice into a lower register, his mouth inches closer to her ear.  Even an esper won't be able to eavesdrop.  "Is it, uh.  Usual for power demonstrations to go like Misha's did?  It seemed...a little..."  He trails off, trying to think to think of a professional way to say 'batshit crazy'.

"Mmm...no..He's...strange. His power does seem unusual itself but.." She' also murmuring very quietly.

"I almost bailed on the mission, right then.  It was pretty...man, I don't know.  It might have been neat to play with his power a little bit before the mission...but not like that?  But we're super compatible, so...it'd be a shame to not give him a chance."  And for the sake of the civs, too.

"It's not a good idea to bail on a mission like that..but I understand the temptation. You can ask not to be assigned to work with people in future, though he's foreign so it hopefully won't come up anyway..." small sigh "It's good to give people the benefit of the doubt, especially foreigners, I'm not sure how much of his...difficulty explaining himself is down to the language barrier."

"Yeah.  I mean.  It's just - really concerning.  And the undisclosed backlash, I don't - there are people who need them, obviously.  It's just...a lot, adding up.  Especially with the thing with gathering up the victims."  It would be really nice if I could just trust him.

"Yeah I don't want to pressure people into disclosing their backlash, there's a lot of perfectly sensible reasons why somebody might not want to but it does make it harder to work with them..."

There's aspects of her backlash at high levels that she doesn't exactly discuss in detail though that's because it's a risk to her and mostly not to anyone else.

"Mmmmmh."  Long sigh.  As he speaks, he absentmindedly squirms closer to Graviton.  He's not exactly climbing into her lap, but it wouldn't be difficult to get there.  "Well, I'll think about it.  I uh, I appreciate you being my - sounding board.  Make it a little easier."

It's too soon to say I'll never work with someone with an undisclosed backlash again, but if something like this happens twice in a month, I'll reconsider.

"We should probably try to get him to talk more...do you want me to sit in your lap?" She could put him in hers but that direction would be more awkward.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

"Uh, yeah, that's - probably a good idea.  More, um, skin contact.  We'll have to figure out how we'll, uh, sandwich later.  But.  For now."  He awkwardly pats his thigh, and pulls back a little from Graviton.

Awkward boys are cute but she's a little worried he's pushing himself too far, "You sure? Snuggling like we were is almost as good for skin contact and you seem nervous?"

"I mean, I'm just - not used to this much - touchiness?  Six months ago, if you'd asked me if a gorgeous woman would be asking to sit in my lap I'd've laughed until I passed out.  And I won't be getting used to it if I don't.  And I sort of need to, to be an esper.  So."

"Well if you're sure. You can ask me to back off any time. This is more for your benefit than mine anyway."

She slides into his lap sideways and slings both arms around his neck, "How's this?"

Hesitantly, slowly, he also wraps his arms around her.  His thumb brushes against the bottom edge of her top, then flattens against the small of her back.  He's currently in a three-way war between "GIRL", "GIRL(subtype: scary)" and "Guiding".  Currently, Girl and Guiding are in the lead.  "It's, uh, it's good.  It's very good."  Boy is it ever a lot, though.  A lot of good.

"it is good. It's kind of a lot though, isn't it? I'm still not inured to that either, I don't know if I ever will be..."

She gets it too!!!  "Yeah.  It's - not overwhelming, usually, but.  Sometimes it is.  And even when it isn't, it's always, just - a sensation, hey!  This is good!  It's here!  It's not going away!"

"it is very a sensation."

That gets a laugh out of him.  "Yeah.  It is."  He relaxes, a little.  And pets his coworker down her spine.

"We should maybe go check on Misha...in a few minutes..." This is very cosy.

"Yeah, probably."  He doesn't really want to stop.  Or get up.

Misha is fine in the same manner as a dog with a bone generally self-reports as "fine." Just carrying on a very loud conversation with someone.

"Yes, thanks, yes, tell me when you have news, da? Okay, is good, alright," he can be heard saying as he approaches the break tent. Stomp, stomp, stomp. Pause. "Can you get it before we go back in?" Stomp, stomp in the other direction, then more chatter. "No, I don't know. Shirtless wants do guiding. Shirtless?—ah, Ow-mento. Like... injured mint candies. Him! Yes, I ask." Stomp, stomp, stomp into the tent.

"'Ey, Aumento! How long you expect fondle Graviton takes this time? Hour?"

You know what, this is the kind of razzing he'd expect from the Dwarves.  Or possibly on the mat.  This he can handle.  "Jealous, Misha?  You want some of this as well?"  He hides his mouth behind Graviton's shoulder and murmurs to her, esper-quiet, "Play along."

Oh, hey, he’s making fun now. This is a new development! “I’m just hoping you can last with her in your lap. I asked support for some things before next trip out and if you finish too soon we have to go back in without. So think of grandma or algebra or something, yeah?”

Sure she can play along "Would you rather be in his lap instead?"

Tim nudges Graviton off his lap, then rises to his feet.  "Go on, take your shirt off.  The rest of us have, might as well join us."  He streeetches, a little bit of a cocky grin on his face.  He takes a step forward, leading with his right foot.  "You racked up some backlash with that distraction, right?"