Rafal The Unethical Psychologist - Part 1

Rafal the Unethical Psychologist - Part 1

Note:

This series of posts won't be posted in a particular order since they're not actually part of a greater story. Nor are they set during a particular time, so expect some variance. They're only bound by having a certain AU in common, by virtue of fitting under the same thematic banner in my head, so you can read them in any order.

Also, feel free to leave asks for Rafal the Unethical Psychologist, and prepare yourselves for dark humor and nonsense that will certainly almost never be in compliance with the APA code of conduct, obviously.

⸻

The whole lot of Nevers sat on their splintery pews, in a hopeless, sagging, mumpish slouch.

Were they awaiting torture? Rhian fretted.

Rhian would've told Rafal to try something, anything, to get them to bounce back, to pick themselves up by the bootstraps, and rally them around himself as their leader, but knowing Rafal—well, he was more likely to resort to prodding them with live wires than putting on anything reminiscent of a false, cheerful facade.

Glass

"This is my class now." From the center, Rafal blasted everyone back to the walls of the rotunda.

The students’ faces contorted in rage, but he held them back with his magic as they struggled against their binds, class and professor alike bound to the walls with streaks of black magic.

He shot a petrification spell at Sheeks, and addressed the students, a few of which had gone glassy-eyed in numb terror.

Several other students glared at him, murderous and embittered.

"I'll take it gladly if you hate me. Magic follows emotion. Therefore, your hatred and fear will fuel your villainous purposes."

The venomous looks dropped off of some of the Nevers' faces as they took in his words, and Rafal grinned to himself, his eyes still watering profusely with unshed tears as he soldiered on through the scalding pain of his own punishment, and delivered the rest of his speech.

I can't believe it! I LOST important, symbolic dialogue, and I can't seem to get it back! This is going to impact the entire scene I had in mind for something, and while it's not ruined exactly, I can't help but think I'm always going to sense the loss because I can't replicate exactly how it went before. And what I've tried to fill in just seems patchier and worse by comparison.

Does anyone know how to access an earlier version of a Gmail draft email (that did not save because of an error message you blithely ignored at 3am? This is not a rhetorical question. I'm just frustrated at the moment.)

If I ever finish the fic the lost dialogue went with, hopefully, it won't seemed weirdly abridged or empty. There's a chance I'm overreacting, and that it wouldn't be noticeable, of course. It's probably just going to nag me for a while.

Round VII of Excerpts from The One True School Master of Vault 41

Someone has “revenge” on the brain. I thought the first excerpt might be funny and could stand on its own out of context. The actual context makes it funnier, in my opinion, but I unfortunately can’t spoil it because it involves possibly the most insane shock in the entire fic.

Admittedly, I’m slightly proud of myself for managing to not burst and to hold back on revealing the plot twists, particularly with major events #2, #3, and #4. Otherwise, there'd likely be zero surprises left.

Though, plot twist #1 is sort of foundational to the premise, so I gave it away! (Sophie is nominated for the position of School Master.)

Also, a strange observation about my own plot occurred to me: contrary to what I or others might think, the plot is actually quite simple. Or, at least, from my view at the moment, it is. I’d originally thought it was complicated, but no. Actually, it’s simple masquerading as complex because there are complications thrown into the story, like wrenches, via a few different elements/events. So, that’s something, I guess?

If I could summarize the plot in one sentence, it would be: three souls enter a crystal ball, and some of them emerged scathed, changed, or both at once.

That’s probably the easiest way to put it, without spoilers.

Anyway, here are the excerpts (from two entirely different sections of the fic):

⸻

That was it. To say it irked her was to put it mildly.

Assuming they were both alive by the end of it, the first moment she got after all these crises were over with, she was taking him for a haircut, whether he liked it or not!

She would march him directly over to the finest salon she could find in the Woods, posthaste, like a prisoner if he resisted—all for the sake of a nice, neat trim.

So be it if it ended up botched. His Doom Room had done the same to her. So what did it matter?

⸻

Rafal glared at Agatha as if to signal: don’t let on that you’re hurt.

“Why are you both limping?”

Agatha stole a quick glance at Rafal who found himself turning to stare intently at a Stymph on high.

He shook his head with the slightest motion. She couldn’t know what it had cost them, or she would intervene.

The movement caught Sophie’s eye, and she turned her attention to Agatha for the truth.

Agatha shrugged wordlessly.

Sophie narrowed her eyes. “Well, it certainly wasn’t bird-watching, that much I can gather.”

Agatha shuffled, and Rafal observed her shove one foot behind her other ankle, but in her gaping, oversized clumps, one sock slid down to reveal an inflamed, red welt.

Unfortunately, Sophie traced his sightline to Agatha's foot. “Agatha? What happened?”

This is for your word game for TOTSMOV41! My word is "Snake".

An arrow whizzed by, and tore through the hem of her dress, causing it to fragment into dead, red butterflies that were crushed underfoot.

“That Snake!” Sophie screeched, puffing from the exertion of running in heels. “If he keeps this up, I won't have much of a dress left!”

Both Agatha and Rafal reddened for vastly different reasons.

The most correct and resonant thing I've heard anyone say all day, haha—

And I may have a few WIPs (if I finish them) lined up to sate that very need.

we need more rafal whump tbh