Stop Having Fun, Guys

[failgoyle]

[It doesn't take all that long after the return to Liminal Space before someone starts flipping out over the psychic network. The only delay might possibly be his trying to figure out how to do this, a few particulars about his new surroundings, and getting his thoughts in order, though it's not like he spent that much time on the latter.]

Okay, you know what? You know what? Everyone who told me this wasn't the work of the True Fae was wrong. So, so wrong! Stop deluding yourselves! I don't care what you call 'em, Trumps or whatever, they're still True Fae! Then there's goblin fruit all over the damn place in here, and if that's not more evidence this is all the work of the True Fae, then I don't know what is! There is nothing that exists out there that thinks this sort of screwing around with people's heads and bodies and making random people think they're something else entirely and leaving freaking magic fruit lying around is a good idea!

Because giving a guy a pop-off arm and genetic hallucinations and hallucinations from all the pop-off arm and all the other tech is just such a great idea to someone out there, sure, sure. Hell, is this even happening right now? Are we even really back? Or am I just dreaming all this again? Because that's totally a thing that could be happening right now! I could be ignoring something on fire and venting us all into space for this!

And I still have the damn arm! Loose. Sitting here. My flesh-and-blood one came back. So if anyone needs a hand, there you go. There you go.

[Shortly after the return to Liminal Space]

[pseudologist]

Nice flowers.

Not that I'm complaining about being away from all the raging teenaged emotions, but what happened to get us all sprung so fast? I don't think we were at the Shambala any more than a week - definitely not our usual stay.