Day 7 (maybe 11? 12? 32??) of The Investigation:

Upon invisibly entering V.E.T. headquarters at 202 E. Palm St., I discovered an impossible labyrinth of corridors and stark white hallways smelling of PsyBreeze Airfreshener and hamster fur. The building is approximately forty-seven point two times bigger on the inside than it appears on the outside, and I spent the better part of my time here attempting to navigate it's impossible layout. It didn't help that I kept forgetting where I had previously been.

Umm... There was something else I wanted to write... Ummm.. Uh..... It was... Ummmmmmmm.......... Oh! I remember now. I think. Anyway, I was coasting from locked door to locked door, and narrow nondescript hallway to narrow nondescript hallway, when I finally found a door that wasn't locked. This was rather surprising as security here is very secure. Anyway, as I entered the room, a sort of mist was sprayed from the ceiling, somehow rendering me visible to the prim secretary sitting at the old fashioned wooden desk (complete with typewriter) in the middle of the large and otherwise empty room. She was the first person I'd seen since my arrival; not a single agent of V.E.T. or even an Austrian wood-mouse had shown itself my entire visit, which I found slightly disconcerting. Austrian wood-mice go /everywhere/. Anyway, once I was caught, the secretary (who's name plate says "Susan") searched me and took most of my belongings before having me write my name and contact information on a sign in sheet while she produced a rather uncomfortable wooden chair. I've been in this horrid chamber since. They call it... The Waiting Room.

The only things that weren't confiscated from me were my journal and knapsack full of sprinkles (Pumpkin and Cherry Cola flavoured). I haven't posted because I was afraid "Susan" might notice and take away my journal. It is now my only connection to the outside world. Besides the large bay window with a view of a lovely garden.

Anyway, although I haven't posted, I have been reading other posts, and I have a few things to say. I think.

@xiirth welcome to Psychic Crime Club! I am currently unavailable to supervise the Initiation Ritual, but as long as you eventually give me the large payment of sprinkles you mentioned, I will consider it a good substitute. As I told @Alra Mist, I, also get easily lost and confused, which means that I have a plethora of enchanted maps of the school (most if not all of which I made myself in Psychic Cartography Class), although I have a tendency to forget they exist. If you would like to borrow one, they are located in the secret compartment in the bottom left drawer of my desk. I think. Or maybe they're under the couch. I'm not sure which dorm room I'm in, either. But if you find my room, and if you find my stash of maps, feel free to borrow one. Just not the pinkish one written in Bulgarian. That one might possibly be dangerous. Maybe.

Also, since I have no idea how much longer I will be... away, I am appointing @Steak Richardson as President Pro Tempore until my return. However, please keep aware that any and all attempted coups must be done per protocol as mentioned in the 1876 Psychic Treaty of Crime, which, (for those who have not read the afore mentioned treaty, or, like me, keep forgetting it), means that a Psychic Joust must be scheduled at least 20 days in advance between the current leader and the one who wishes to become leader through use of a coup.


I must go now; "Susan" has finished her paperwork and will glance over at me at any moment now.
I will continue posting whenever "Susan" isn't looking.

Farewell for now,
Nobody

Day 6 (or possibly 7) of The Investigation:

Marcello (pronounced "Marrr-ch-ell-o!), the satyr agent of F.O.O.L.S. (Fauna Oreinted on the Losing Side), and I have been staking out 202 E. Palm St. since last night. It's a quaint little one-story building, painted baby blue with white shutters and a sloping red-shingled roof, located in a bright and sunny area of town on a street lined with blooming cherry and dogwood trees. It even has a welcome mat decorated with flowers and paw prints. We immediately came to the conclusion that it is extremely suspicious and dangerous looking.

We left Claudette in the abandoned brick building we commandeered because she was "a loose cannon and a security risk", according to Marcello. I think he was just miffed that she accidentally burned his socks when she got the hiccups after eating a few pigeons from the city park.

Anyway, we've been watching agents of V.E.T. go in and out of the building at 202 E. Palm St. all day, carrying various pets and familiars; they seem to have been taken from other schools like Satanic High School and Corn Children's Vocational School in addition to Psyhigh.

Marcello says that he's gathered enough intel to infiltrate V.E.T. tomorrow with a team of "professionals" from F.O.O.L.S.. I'm expected to take Claudette and go back to Psyhigh while they finish the rescue mission.

As much as I would like to do so, I refuse to leave Claude in the grubby hands of evil V.E.T. agents. Also, I don't know how to get back to Psyhigh. So tonight, while Marcello is sleeping, I will invisibly enter 202 E. Palm St. and free my cat. And the other animals. I already sent Claudette back to Psyhigh; she knows the way (I think) and she'll be safe in the hands and hooves of @Alra Mist and @Morgan the Horse Boy. Probably. Besides, secret missions are no place for teenage dragons.

I've packed my knapsack with my remaining supply of Emergency Rescue Mission Sprinkles, so hopefully They won't take it away when I'm captured and thrown pitilessly in a dank and stale dungeon to await my torturous end.

Farewell for now,
Nobody

Day 5 (or is it 6?) of The Investigation:

After hours of wrong turns and dead ends, I eventually made it out of Psyhigh, only to find myself in some dark alley in the middle of a city I had no idea existed. It was cold and drizzly, which put Claudette in something of a temper (I decided to bring her with me so that the V.E.T. agents wouldn't kidnap her too), and long story short, she nearly burned several very nice gentlemen who were dressed all in black. They came up to us while we were in the alley and wanted to know if I was all alone and whether or not I had any cash, (no doubt so that they could give me help if I needed it), but before I could answer them, Claudette coated the entire alley in flames. It's a good thing I was wearing fire resistant clothing.

Anyway, eventually Claudette and I found an abandoned brick building, and we've been holed up planning our course of action since. At some point we made contact with an under cover member of F.O.O.L.S. who had been sent by @Alra Mist. She sent him with food, supplies, a flashlight designed to make the maximum amount of shadows possible, and something called a "sell phone" so we could keep in contact. She's been keeping me updated on events at F.O.O.L.S's home front, while I inform her on happenings in The Outside World. I sincerely appreciate the help.

In other news, the agent of F.O.O.L.S. who made the initial contact has been tagging along with Claudette and I as we continue our mission to save Claude (and the other animals). Apparently the higher ups at F.O.O.L.S. don't trust a "rogue agent" like myself who is a known affiliate of Psychic Crime Club, and he's been assigned to keep tabs on us. He's a shady looking satyr who constantly wears sunglasses and a fedora; even when it's dark outside. And he's annoyingly self-assured and pompous. But he has been useful. Together we've obtained several good leads as to where "202 E. Palm St." is that we will be looking into tonight.

I will continue posting until my inevitable capture and agonizing demise.

Farewell for now,
Nobody

Dear Somebody,
A terrible thing has happened! It's awful, and horrible! It's unimaginably quixotic!!! Claude has been kidnapped.

I remember it like it was yesterday; probably because it was yesterday, but anyway. It happened in the middle of the night (or possibly the middle of the day, I can't really remember), when both Claude and Claudette were sleeping and I was eating sprinkles and completing an assignment for Experimental Time Bomb class. I had just added the last configuration that would enable the device to create an explosive time portal for exactly 66.6 seconds, and eaten a handful Pesto and Garlic flavoured sprinkles, when they came bursting through the door; a group a people all wearing white lab coats with little paw prints sewn on the front pockets. They rushed in, grabbed Claude around the middle, and stuffed him into a small torture chamber with the words "CAT CARRIER" written on it. It must be some sort of acronym. Then they whisked him away before I could so much as drop the Time Sensitive Fliggabbilat I'd been using to make adjustments on my homework. By the time I could rush after them, they were gone. The kidnappers even had the audacity to leave a calling card!! It's decorated in little paw prints and has an address, phone number, and the name of their horrifying oragainzation typed in "Times New Roman" font. Who even uses "Times New Roman"?

I am canceling today's meeting of Psychic Crime Club due to this pressing emergency. Our next meeting will be tomorrow at 7pm in our new Lab (which has officially been finished by @patrick, and unquarantined by the Reflection Redaction Committee [which was disbanded]). If I'm not there, assume that I have died a tragic and sprinkle-less death in the clutches of my new mortal enemy. I am going to go rescue my cat. Even though I am utterly terrified. And lost.

Upon my failure to return, you may rightly assume that I have been captured by V. E. T. The organiziation that kidnapped Claude.

I'm not sure how I'm going to get there, though. The card has an address, but I don't know how to get to "202 E. Palm St." Or how to leave the school, actually. Or how to get out of the girls dormitory. Do I take a right at the statue that looks suspiciously like Lilly Munster? Or a left? Usually Claude guides me everywhere...

Farewell for now,
Nobody

Dear Somebody,
Things did not go at all as planned. Even after we decided on a single plan and the time and date (earlier today).

@Monterey Jack and a few others had pointed out that I kept changing tactics and stating different times and dates for the heist, so at some point someone conjured a boulder and we engraved the information in stone to prevent confusion. Some harsh words were exchanged, though. I know I can be slightly forgetful, but there was no need to call me "flighty" or an "amnesiac". In fact, I... Uh... I....umm....uhh...In fact, ummmmm.... Uhh... What was I saying?

Anyway, @Monterey Jack, @Steak Richardson, and the perpetually befuddled @Kip Gilly were supposed to go undercover and distract the guards while @patrick, @Isabella Irish, and I extracted the manuscript, and @nightwolf, Sterling (the Weather Mage), and Oengus (a bagpipe player) stood watch outside the museum in case anything went wrong.

Things went wrong.

We weren't the only ones who had heard about the priceless manuscript; by the time we got there, it had already been stolen, and Psy Corps was there, along with someone who looked vaguely like @Junior Agent LuLu. Or maybe my Great Aunt Mathilda. But as I was saying, we were almost caught and had to make an escape; but not before we found out who had beaten us to the heist. It was Satanic High School's Evil Society for The Criminally Inclined (ESTCI). And not only that, but the contact who had promised us 500,000 jars of sprinkles and two tons of diamonds bought the manuscript from ESTCI for 650,000 cans of lime juice and three tons of diamonds. Who even drinks lime juice?

They may have won this time, but next time it won't be so easy. I think. At least, that's what I was told to say.

In other unrelated news, Psychic Crime Club's next meeting will be in the vineyard at three pm on Monday. I think. We will discuss a new heist and evasive maneuvers. And possibly something else.

Farewell for now,
Nobody

Dear Somebody,
I finished exams in most of my classes. I think I passed them. I think. I still have 2 more exams to go though; thankfully the cafeteria has been accommodating and increased my sprinkle ration.

In other news, our new Lab for Psychic Crime Club has been completed! Unfortunately, @patrick's design included a lot of reflective surfaces, including a wall made completely of mirrors, and the building was confiscated by the Reflection Redaction Committee. We've been holding meetings in the vineyard behind the far left wing of the school, since the apple orchard has been claimed by @Randy Bernstein for intramural flying club. Fortunately, one of our newest members is a Weather Mage with questionable morals, so we don't have to worry about being caught in a storm. Unless someone provokes Sterling. In which case Claude has prepared a storm cellar. (Fully stocked with snacks. And sprinkles. And various strange vegetables from his garden.) We've been going over tactics and maneuvers for our heist this Friday. I'm just really glad that it's only Wednesday and we have an extra day to prepare. It might be a disaster if today was Thursday.

Anyway, @Sunday Shred, I too enjoy the works of Poe. My favorite poet, though, is probably Emily Dickinson. I can really relate to her for some reason.

Farewell for now,
Nobody

Dear Somebody,
I am cool! Or at least, according to @Kianna. Claude says he disagrees.

Anyway, I was wrong. Or rather, I was right. Or I guess, I was right about being wrong that I was right. I think. But as I was saying, the Haunted Manuscript of Hermes Trismegistus isn't going to be put on display until this coming Friday. Which is good. Because Psychic Crime Club has been having... issues lately. Since the boiler room didn't work out, we looked around for some other places to hold meetings, and long story short, we had several books on Universal Laws and How to Obey them thrown at us by S-Al (Self-Aware Library), were attacked by a territorial gang of sentient puppets, and almost got sucked into a time vortex when we took a wrong turn in the catacombs. And speaking of time, @patrick just recently got his, um, problems fixed, so it would have been less than ideal conditions to pull a heist. I think. On the bright side, our new Lab has almost been completed, which will be a relief. And I finally remembered to inform @Meat Mathieson and @Monterey Jack that "suits optional" means that they still have to wear clothing and follow Psyhigh's (very lax) dress code, they just don't have to wear the stiff and uncomfortable dry-clean-only suits that were introduced by @Rex Turbo.

In other news, exams are coming up in some of my classes. I thought they were scheduled for next month or maybe the one after it, but Claude informed me this morning that they are actually this week. I ate thirty jars of Happiness and Relaxed flavoured sprinkles (from Sprinkle Co.) and still haven't turned visible. I am not looking forward to the test in.. uh... in... ummm... uh... I... in one of my classes. I can't remember which one. But still.

I suppose I ought to go study.

Farewell for now,
Nobody
(Current) President of Psychic Crime Club

Dear Somebody,
Today is Saturday! Or maybe that was yesterday. Or was it last week? I can never remember. Anyway, Claudette is doing a lot better. Her scales have already healed up from where the hydra tore them off, and her left front foot is no longer bruised from Cerberus accidentally stepping on it. Claude and I have been feeding her a steady diet of freeze dried pigeons and popcorn covered in chipotle peppers, as well as daily applying a homemade salve to her various wounds. I'm not quite sure what's in the salve; Claude makes it himself with ingredients from his garden, but when I accidentally got some on the rug, it burned a hole through the floor. I moved an over stuffed plush chair over the hole so no one would notice.

I'm sorry about the burn marks, @Alra Mist; Claudette has been in a bad mood lately. I think she's just grumpy and used to being alone. With Claude. And me. And sometimes @Walls. But still.

In other news, Psychic Crime Club seems to have come to a stand still. Walls offered the use of the boiler room for meetings, and @patrick is trying to get a new lab built, but not much is happening. There was recently an opportunity to steal the priceless haunted manuscript of Hermes Trismegistus, and we even came up with a scheme and looked into the market (Claude found someone willing to buy it for 500,000 jars of sprinkles and two tons of imported diamonds), but I think the time has passed. Or has it? Maybe the manuscript won't be put on display until this Friday. I thought it was last Friday, but I think I might be wrong. Unless I'm right. Or I could just be right about being wrong. Time has been hard to tell recently; I think it might have something to do with Patrick and his time-traveling problem. Maybe @Steak Richardson can help him.

But as I was saying, Hermes Trismegistus's haunted manuscript will be put on display in the Museum of Unappreciated Non-History this Friday (or is it Saturday?) and as our first (official) heist under my reign, er, presidency, we will be stealing, er, permanently borrowing it. We'll meet tonight and tomorrow night in the boiler room to make sure everyone knows the plan. @Cloe, if you're looking for a club to join, you're welcome to attend the meetings to see if you might be interested in Psychic Crime Club.

Farewell for now,
Nobody
(Current) President of Psychic Crime Club

Due to recent events, Psychic Crime Club will be cancelled until further notice.

The abandoned under ground laboratory we were using as headquarters was accidentally destroyed by @patrick's Hydra and the resulting battle between the Hydra, Cerberus, and Claudette. I sincerely apologize to those who suffered third degree burns, bite marks, and lacerations. I also apologize to those who were trapped in various dimensions when the Hydra poison interacted with the pocket dimensions we were using for Carcassonne. We will be sending a rescue team for you shortly. I think.

Sincerely,
Nobody
(Current) President of Psychic Crime Club

Dear Somebody,
Things have been really slow at Psychic Crime Club. The most exciting thing was when we unanimously decided to make the suits optional. Occasionally, @patrick pops by with some strange relic from the past, and Cerberus (whom we have officially adopted as a mascot, despite Claude's misgivings) sometimes shows up with strange sparkling rocks in his mouth, which we usually throw out. (I don't know where he gets them; I think he's started sleeping in the boiler room with Walls, but I'm not sure what the dog does or where he goes when he's not with anyone.) Mostly though, @Montery Jack and @Steak Richardson just sit around and eat snacks while @Walls and I play a version of Carcassonne in which we use pocket dimensions instead of tiles with pictures of the French country side. It helps us brainstorm ideas. I think. So far we still haven't come up with a heist, although we've had a few promising developments that Claude is currently investigating. We have had a couple of new members, though, like @Kip Gilly, who wandered into our meeting looking slightly befuddled, and @nightwolf, who is very intense. @Isabella Irish also showed up, although her accent was so thick I had trouble understanding her. Or maybe it was just because the merging of over 57 pocket dimensions caused the time and space around me to seem a little fuzzy. (One of the best things about pocket dimensions is that the government doesn't regulate how many you have, so, theoretically, you can possess infinite amounts of pocket dimensions. Not recommendable, though.)

In other news, Psyhigh seemed in kind of an uproar today; and it was more than just the migrating cable eels, or the swarms of concerned parents signing up as chaperones for the field trip coming up, or even the hordes of protesting students who were outraged over the cancellation of Nightmare Diving Class (that is, until several monstrous creatures from the dream world escaped the resurfacing crew and attacked). Trumpets have been sounding in the halls, the normally bland, grey-ish carpet has been morphing into a majestic red colour, and the kitchens seem ten times as busy as usual. Hundreds of new people in strange outfits are bustling through the halls, and I think I saw at least 13 silver coaches and horses in the courtyard.

It's probably nothing special.

Oh! I almost forgot, @Alra Mist, if you like, we could maybe become roommates. Your old dorm sounds really terrifying, er, sepulchral. My old roommate has all but completely left Psyhigh, and while the room is still somehow scented like Mattie's signature perfume, the dim lighting means it has a lot of shadows while still seeming well lit. More or less. Although, you would have to share the room with Claudette (my cat's adopted daughter/dragon), Claude (my cat), and a Whisperfly which I can never remember the name of. And myself. Also, half the room has been taken up by Claude's new garden. But anyway, if you'd like some company, and want a less creepy, er, sepulchral, but still shadowy place to sleep at night, the door is always open. Literally. Claudette burned it off a few days ago.

Farewell for now,
Nobody