[What's this? Why, it's a meddling housemate! One who is ambling into the kitchen in search of something to eat. He fiddles around a bit, cubing some cheese and tossing some crackers on a plate, then he goes to the table to eat it.]
Ah, what's this?
[Doof picks up the letter, and recognizes the handwriting of something coming from the post office. Looks like it belongs to Barton. He holds it up to the light, failing to see much of anything in it... how can a returned item be... nothing at all? There's nothing at all there, it seems.]
....
[No one's watching. He slits it open with the paring knife he had been using.]
[There's a nothing but a card inside with these symbols on it. Barton herself won't even know what they are - they weren't invented in her time, but they were by Mayfield's.
Speaking of Barton, she's walking back into the room, pack of matches in hand. Upon seeing Doofenschmirtz with the open envelope, she doesn't look too happy.]
[Glarrrrreee] I was gonna burn it. Who said you could open stuff addressed to me, anyway.
[She looks at the card, the symbols foreign to her.] The hell is this supposed to be.
[Barton reaches out and takes it from him... which is a bad move. As soon as she does, she yelps and flinches, squeezing her eyes shut. She's instantly given a tremendous headache, but it was vaguely familiar to her - like the first time this power manifested.
She drops to her knees, holding her head. After a moment all she can do is curse loudly.] Goddamnit!
PSI is what psychic power is called in my world. There aren't many of us who can use it, but we tend to pick up on different kinds of things. No one I know is too good with telekinetics, though.
Figures. I only ever met one other psychic in my whole time back home. And he was a grade-A asshole. He wasn't about to give me details. I guess ya can say he was workin' for the enemy.
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Ah, what's this?
[Doof picks up the letter, and recognizes the handwriting of something coming from the post office. Looks like it belongs to Barton. He holds it up to the light, failing to see much of anything in it... how can a returned item be... nothing at all? There's nothing at all there, it seems.]
....
[No one's watching. He slits it open with the paring knife he had been using.]
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Speaking of Barton, she's walking back into the room, pack of matches in hand. Upon seeing Doofenschmirtz with the open envelope, she doesn't look too happy.]
What are you doing?
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...gah!
[Ooh, busted. Doof flinches, looks very guilty, and then strides right on ahead through the guilt and holds the card up.]
Opening your prize for you. Though it looks like a lousy one. Bah! A card! I at least got my lab coat back.
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[She looks at the card, the symbols foreign to her.] The hell is this supposed to be.
[Barton reaches out and takes it from him... which is a bad move. As soon as she does, she yelps and flinches, squeezing her eyes shut. She's instantly given a tremendous headache, but it was vaguely familiar to her - like the first time this power manifested.
She drops to her knees, holding her head. After a moment all she can do is curse loudly.] Goddamnit!
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[ Firo's still not too familiar with the regain system, so his first assumption is plucked straight out of a Mayfield-era comic book. ]
...Did the milk do somethin' funny to ya?
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No, it's where you can move stuff with it. Least that's what someone back home had told me it was called.
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[ A pause ]
Wow. That's gotta come in handy a lot. But shouldn't you know how ta' use it if you got it from home?
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But trying to teach PSI hasn't ever really worked before.
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I dunno, I think maybe it was havin' a bad effect on me. Or something. There ain't exactly a lotta people around to tell you about this kinda thing.
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The best advice I can give from my own experience is that practice does make perfect.
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