Fun Fact: This Was Some Of The Hardest Scenes To Write Because Norman Didn't Want To Cooperate - Tumblr Posts

Mystery Kids: Beginnings- Part 4

Here's part four; action and feels (though your mileage may vary) ahead!

“Okay Gideon, we get the whole revenge thing! You didn’t have to get Norman involved!” Dipper shouted, straining against the ropes holding him to the chair. His nemesis chuckled, circling around where he had the twins tied back to back to chairs in his room.

“I know the supernatural when I see it boy, but unlike you I know how to use it. He’s more powerful than anyone knows, even him. I knew he’d be my ticket to the Shack the moment he came to town, and you’d be helpless to stop me then! I jus’ didn’t know y’all would show up at my doorstep and make this all so easy.”

“What did you even do to him, ya weirdo?!” Mabel cried, “It was that weird rock stuff wasn’t it? Wasn’t it?!”

“Now Mabel darlin’, no need to get so worked up,” Gideon said sweetly, turning to face her and patting her cheek. “It was jus’ a bit of findin’ out what made Norman tick, a touch a’ hypnosis, then the rock did the rest.”

“I knew it was hypnosis!” Dipper said under his breath. If he could just wiggle enough and reach his pocket knife… no luck. His arms weren’t that noodle-y. Watching Gideon circle around again, his eyes fell on the amulet. “Where’d you even get one of those again anyway?”

“It wasn’t no internet catalogue, I’ll tell you that! I have my ways, means you couldn’t begin to understand… and now…” Gideon removed his tie and held it in Dipper’s face. “Watch closely.”

He found he couldn’t look away.

-------- 

Raz admitted, Norman was… pretty good at atmosphere. The floor creaked and bucked under his every step in the house, and what light made it through the clouded windows didn’t penetrate very far, scattering in the dust-filled air. The wallpaper was stained and peeling, and it smelled like mildew, and maybe blood. Every so often, there’d be a tapping from the walls or ceiling that seemed to be following him. And it was cold. Temperature usually wasn’t a thing in mental worlds unless fire was involved, but here, it was freezing.

He’d seen plenty of terrifying things in the mental worlds of others, but this…. There was something building, and it wasn‘t doing anything for his nerves. He’d never seen a horror movie in his life, but he was pretty sure he was in one right now. A door slammed upstairs, and he yelped, flattening against the wall. Only silence now.

“I’ve gotta talk to this kid about his mind,” he grumbled, shaking his head. He made for the stairs since the ground floor was pretty obviously empty. The steps gave dangerously under his weight, and the banister wasn’t reassuring either, wobbling when he put his hand on it to steady himself. Cautiously, afraid he’d be sent through rotting wood and into some bottomless pit at any moment, he made his way up, batting aside spider webs that caressed his face. He climbed for a while and knew he was past the second floor by now; the thing about mental worlds was that they rarely obeyed the rules of physics and regularly broke things like conservation of volume. Without any windows, it was getting progressively darker too.

“Ugh, this again,” Raz muttered to himself, and decided to skip the whole walking part. A soft orange glow burst from under his feet and he was off, taking the stairs yards at a time. He should have just done this from the start.

No longer feeling so cautious, he sped upwards, eager to finish things up, but a dull rumble put a damper on his efforts. He stopped to listen as the sound seemed to move through the walls, a shearing noise that scraped along and brought violent shaking with it. He was forced to cling to the bannister, flimsy as it was, to keep from being knocked off his feet as whatever it was moved through and finally dissipated. As frightening as the experience was though, he wasn’t entirely sure that had been a regular feature of the mindscape. Something about the sound was familiar…. Undaunted, he reformed his levitation orb and carried on, his way lit by his own manifested will.

There was a shadow, and something clattered behind him. He froze, trying to comprehend what was happening now…. Had Norman just thrown something at him? It’d take more than that to scare—a book collided with his face, sending him sprawling awkwardly on the steps. He grunted and rubbed at where the spine had connected with his aviator cap, glad he wore the old thing. This was exactly why he’d ditched the official Psychonauts uniform not even halfway into his first mission. It was cool he got to wear the official garb, but it wasn’t nearly as practical—or stylish, so his girlfriend told him.

Glaring up at the top of the stairs, he skipped a few more steps up then ducked, and heard something else whiz overhead and land far below. But after a couple more leaps, it seemed Norman gave up on being a poltergeist, and he climbed the rest of the way without a hitch. The door he found at the top of the stairs was closed, and a soft gray light came through the gap at the bottom. Quietly, Raz turned the handle and pushed the door open, grateful when it didn’t squeal on its hinges—only creaking softly instead.

The room was washed out in the pale light streaming from the windows. A wall of posters in the corner above the bed was the only thing that still seemed to have some color to it, but Raz knew enough about advertising to realize they should have been brighter. Norman was sitting on his bed, facing a window with his back to the door. Even when the floor creaked as the psychic stepped warily into the room, he didn’t move.

“Hey,” Raz said gently, slowly approaching the beleaguered medium. “Everything okay?”

“…No,” Norman replied, an edge to his voice.

“I don’t get it. The stuff that made you lose it has been contained for a while now. You should be feeling better,” Raz wondered aloud, tapping a finger thoughtfully to his chin.

“Why should I feel better? There’s nothing to feel better about.”

“That’s not true, I’m here! You didn’t make it easy, but now I can find out what’s going on and find a way to help.”

“You should just leave. I don’t think you can help… there’s so much… too much wrong,” Norman replied, shoulders sagging. A poster peeled from the wall, and he hurriedly stuck it back, face drawn with concern. They caught each other’s eye for a moment, then the ghost whisperer went back to sulking.

“Man, are you mediums always this moody? ‘Cause that’s what I always hear,” Raz commented, folding his arms in exasperation.

“How would I know? The only other people like me are dead.”

Raz’s exasperation quickly dissipated. “Whoa, sorry. But… you said you talk to ghosts—doesn’t that mean you can still talk to them?”

“They moved on. I can’t contact them after that…. I’m all alone.”

“Oh. Sorry to hear that.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. Not like anyone ever helped them either.”

“Well, I guess I can’t do anything for them, but I can help you. What’s going on?”

“You’ll just think I’m crazy. Everyone else already does.”

“No way. I’ve seen a ton of people worse than than you, and I’ve helped all of them. Most were a little more cooperative though, so you gotta give me something to work with. What exactly happened to you two days ago?”

“It’s… it’s only been two days?” Norman finally turned to look at him in shock.

“Yeah.”

“Nice to know it only takes me two days to go totally insane,” he sighed, flopping back on the bed. “I guess it’s no wonder considering the people I deal with.”

“Whoa, harsh. But that’s not the real—”

“Everyone should just leave me alone, including you. I can’t take it anymore.”

“It’d be nice to know what’s actually bothering you,” Raz huffed, folding his arms. He wasn’t getting anywhere, and he suspected it was the hypnosis making it hard for Norman to focus on anything but his anger and desire for isolation. There had to be some way to get him out of that mindset. He thought carefully; what could he say to break the hypnosis’ hold?

“Your life can’t be all bad though. What about the ghosts? They seem to like you a lot.”

“Why should that matter? They can’t do anything… actually they just get me in trouble.”

“Okay, uh… what about your family?”

“You’re not getting it!” Norman sprung from the bed, fists clenched. “I have no one! They all hate me, or they’re afraid. What am I supposed to do?” He almost seemed pleading now, even as tension filled the air. But Raz was starting to put things together, and the only way to be sure was to keep talking.

“And you’re one-hundred-percent sure that’s really how they feel about you? Because for a really long time I thought my dad hated—”

“Just go. You don’t have anything helpful to say. I’ll fix my problems by myself.”

“Wait—”

“Leave.”

“No, Norman, you can’t—”

“Go! Or I’ll make you myself,” he snarled, eyes flashing. Hot streaks of electricity burst from the fringes of his clothes and hair, casting the room in an eerie yellow. Raz leapt back and shielded his eyes; lightning was the last thing he’d expected to come from the medium, and definitely meant things were getting out of control despite his efforts. He had to keep things on the right track.

“Hey! Listen to me!”

“No one will listen to me. Why should I listen to them anymore?” Norman retorted.

“Because sometimes they have important stuff to tell you,” Raz answered, but had to duck as a bolt flew over his head.

“Oh, like how I’m a freak? How I’m better off joining my ghost friends?”

“Oh man, people really told you that?”

“You think I’m lying!?” he cried, projection nothing but raging energy now and forcing Raz back against the wall. So much electricity in a small room was bad for his health; he rubbed the back of his hand where a small arc had connected and left it stinging.

“No, I believe you! But you ignored it before—doesn’t that mean it’s not important?”

“I’m not ignoring it any more! I’m— I’m going to show them why they should all just leave me alone!”

“What?! Norman, I’m pretty sure that’s a really bad idea!” Raz shouted over the roar of the lightning as he edged closer to the door. If things got to be too much he’d need to be able to get out fast, but he desperately hoped it wouldn’t come to that. With his natural defenses gone, Norman needed someone else to help deal with his emotions. Fighting was out of the question; if he hurt Norman’s core even more than it already was who knew what damage that would do. Raz knew he wasn’t the greatest mediator—fighting was definitely his strong point, but he wasn’t known for giving up on anyone either. Most importantly, he had a pretty good idea of how to help now.

“And why not?”

“Because I think it’d make your friends really sad—all of them. The ghosts, and the ones you’re staying with right now.”

“But I don’t—” Norman’s projection flickered, and he stared at the psychic in disbelief.

“You do realize you’re not home, right? You‘ve got a sleeping bag out there, and this looks like it‘s your real room. You‘re definitely staying with friends,” he stated, laying out the facts.

“You’re lying!”

“Oh, now I’m the liar, huh? Look—” He gasped as a strike interrupted and hit him square in the chest. Reeling, he slid to the floor, trying to refocus his scattered thoughts. But he’d been hit with worse, and propped himself up against the wall once he‘d caught his breath and turned to face the medium once more. “You may not remember them, but it seems like you’ve been spending some time with them. Isn‘t that important?”

“Then why can’t I remember them? You’re making it up!” He punctuated his accusation with a bolt. Raz winced as it hit his boot, but he had to keep going.

“Norman, someone screwed with your memories and emotions. I don’t know how it’s connected exactly, but somehow, by taking away the memories of your friends, they made you this angry… sad… lighting thing! They want you to be like this!” he panted, staggering to his feet. “I don’t think you want to though. Otherwise you wouldn’t have let me in.”

“I… I don’t know. I just want everyone to see how horrible they are!” he spat, and launched another stream of lightning at him. He managed to dodge most of it, but those first strikes had taken a lot out of him. After a few steps, it was like his legs wouldn’t listen to his commands and simply gave up, leaving him to collapse. He took the rest of the attack as best he could from his spot on the floor, but a pounding in his ears told him he couldn’t last long. When Norman seemed done, he hoisted himself up once more and faced the glowing ball of anger. “So you do that by being horrible back? Doesn‘t that make you just as bad?”

Norman made to reply, but froze. His image wavered, contorting before snapping back, expression turned from rage to fearful confusion. “N-no…” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

“It does, and you know it!” Raz pressed, and the medium recoiled.

“No!” he cried, sending out a small wave of electricity and stunning Raz again. “You don’t understand, everything’s wrong! All of it, and I don’t know why, or how to fix it,” he sobbed, hands at his temples. “I’m not like this, I’m not like her.”

Raz gaped at the sudden change in moods, but at last he‘d made progress—somehow. And now there was a mysterious ‘her’ in the mix, but he figured there’d be time for explanations later, and it meant Norman was remembering something other than the hypnosis’ directive. Maybe now he could finally get to him and put an end to his suffering. Using the wall to pull himself up, he shoved the goggles out of his face. It was hard, like staring at the sun, but he looked Norman in the eyes and smiled. “Don’t worry. I think I definitely know how to help now. Let’s go out to your tree.”

“There’s… there’s something wrong with it. Usually it calms me down when I visit it, but lately it only reminded me of all the bad stuff. I… I wanted to tear it down!” Norman flickered again, projection splitting for an instant, lightning flaring.

“That’s what I’m here to take care of. Come on.” Raz gestured towards the door, then flopped over, legs numb like they’d fallen asleep. Rolling over, he shrugged at Norman, who was looking on in concern.

“I… How bad did I hurt you?”

 “I’ll be fine. If you can get us both to the tree, this’ll all be over really fast.”

“Okay…”

The house trembled, then everything blurred like it was ripped upward. In an instant, Raz was lying on dirt instead of floorboards, and the walls covered in posters had disappeared. The oak twisted over their heads, bare branches swaying ever so slightly in a breeze that had kicked up, and the clouds swirling above were now tinged with maroon streaks.

“Okay, now all you have to do is get rid of the junk that’s written on the tree—the stuff saying you’re a freak that never had friends,” Raz explained, sitting up and giving his troubled friend an encouraging smile.

“B-but… what if it’s true?” Norman wavered, eyes fixed on the tree. The electricity, which had died down since he’d realized something was wrong, began to pick up again. Summoning his strength, Raz stood and leapt in front of the toxic words, landing hard on his stomach against the rough bark. What he did for people sometimes….

“No way,” he coughed. He would turn over, but he was pretty sure his body wouldn’t listen at this point. He couldn’t get any energy back without dropping another astral layer, but that meant he’d have even less presence, which probably wasn’t a good idea even if things were looking better. “If anything… I’m your friend, right? So it’s already not true.”

“Uh…okay… What do I do?”

“I’m… not sure actually. Maybe try remembering what those crossed out things are?”

“I… I’m not sure I can. The tree’s dead…by now…”

“Can’t be. It’s a pretty major part of your psyche. I don’t think you’d be around if it was dead,” Raz replied. “Actually, I think I can still feel a little energy running through it.” He patted the bark gently, nodding.

“Then… I’ll try… but… be ready in case something bad happens.”

Raz was too busy monitoring the tree through his pounding head to catch that last bit. The oak had the slightest of wavelengths, so when a tremor shook the whole thing it was like someone blasting a bullhorn in his ear. He slid unceremoniously from the trunk and landed on the dusty ground with a thud before managing to turn to Norman. “What was that?”

“…Uh oh…”

There was a searing sound, and Raz instantly knew what was happening. Risking the last of his strength and braving electrocution, he leapt forward just as a hellish red portal tore open beneath Norman’s feet and shoved him out of the way. Inhuman claws seized him, digging roughly into his skin and pulled him in, the portal closing far above his head and leaving him in darkness.

The first time this had happened to him, long ago, Raz had really been afraid—the thing had sprung on him when he‘d though he was safe, and he‘d never faced it before. But then the actual fight hadn’t been too hard, and now he was looking forward to blasting this particular problem into oblivion, even with his energy levels so low. Nightmares were demonic-looking, but with the right moves they were easy to beat, and Norman had been plagued by the things long enough.

But something wasn't right.

He wasn't in a den full of fire and brimstone like nightmares usually preferred. There was nothing to shoot at, nothing to hit, and he was pretty sure he couldn’t even move, weakened or not. Peering worriedly into the dark, he could only wait for something to happen. Sniffing, he realized something was happening—the bitter smell of smoke wafted through the air. Holes appeared in the black, burning through like paper over a candle, their edges bright with embers as they spread.

“Let’s burn ‘im!”

Raz found himself standing on concrete steps facing a raging mob. Brandishing everything from the traditional torches and pitchforks to baseball bats, golf clubs and everything in between, they hooted and hollered in a wild frenzy. Some were edging forward, as if they were afraid to get too close…or simply still debating over whether they were really going to go through with whatever they planned.

“Necromancer!”

“You’ll never get away with this!”

“Get ‘em, before they eat us!”

The mob surged, weapons level with his eyes. Raz raised his hands in protest, tried to cry out, but found the words caught in his throat. There was gunfire, and something cracked over his head—a bat maybe, he was too stunned to see. They held back as he fell, then closed in once more. A man pushed a torch into his chest, burning—

The vision faded the same way it had come, the faces of the bloodthirsty civilians bubbling and melting away like old film. He glimpsed the nightmare dying in the darkness beyond, screaming, its serpentine body writhing and livid yellow eyes flickering out, having exhausted the last of its psitanium-granted energy. Blinking, he found himself flat on the ground and thoroughly shaken. He put his hands over his eyes and held them for a while, trying to refocus. That had been more than just a simple nightmare like he’d thought, complete fiction. It was if things that had really happened had gone wrong.

“Is that… have you been dealing with these nightmares the whole time?” he asked quietly, sitting up to see Norman was looking worriedly at him.

“Yeah… Not just at night, either. I saw them during the day too. It was almost all I could see sometimes…. I‘m okay with bad dreams. I watch a lot of scary movies, it happens. Sometimes I think I‘ll use the really good ones and make my own movies.”

“Heh, sounds like a good plan. But these aren’t regular bad dreams. They’re like nightmares and hallucinations had a baby, then that baby hooked up with your memories,” Raz figured with his fingers, “then they got married and had a psycho-mutant baby and put it on steroids. And then someone let that baby rampage through your head. Pretty much sums everything up.” He nodded matter-of-factly, folding his arms.

“It was those things messing with me, huh?”

“Yeah. Enough of those coming at you all the time? No wonder you shut down. And someone wanted that…”

“So it really is because of someone else?”

“Yeah. You can’t think you’re supposed to have these mutant nightmares, right?”

“Maybe…No. I’m not, am I? You took that last one, so I know it’s not just me that can see them. And you say they’re not normal… you saw what I’ve been dealing with. So… I’m… I’m not alone, am I?”

“Yeah, that’s the spirit!”

“You saw… you took it… you…”

The lightning flared, dazzling Raz’s vision. He tried rubbing it away, but found a weight around his neck. Norman was hugging him.

“Ah, um. Okay,” he stammered, and the boy released him.

“Sorry,” Norman said, scratching the back of his head. “It’s just… having a friend helped me break through. I forgot who I was, and you reminded me. Oh!” He turned to face the tree, bark cleansed of the hypnotic suggestion and branches heavy with leaves. “It’s good to have this back,” he said softly, a relieved smile on his face as his fingers traced the edges of the bark.

Raz was surprised by how soft-spoken he was, considering he’d been explosive just moments ago. “Don’t worry about it. If I finally had my mind back, I’d probably want to hug someone too. You think that was the last of the nightmares?”

“I hope so, at least of the mutant-baby kind,” he smirked, and the two laughed. But then Norman’s face fell. “Everything’s foggy though, the last… two days?” He scrunched his face. “I think I might have hurt my other friends. I—” he choked on his words, eyes wide with panic.

“What? What’s wrong? Another nightmare?”

“Sort of,” he croaked. “Only this one’s real. It‘s—it‘s kind of a long story. There‘s no time!”

“You can tell me a little right? Time passes a bit differently in the mental world, so I think we have some,” Raz shrugged. Besides, he wanted to make sure Norman was really all there. Sometimes it could be hard to tell if things were actually solved right away.

“Um, okay… So, I’m related to a girl who cursed my town three hundred years ago. She could talk to the dead too, but no one knew about her other powers until they killed her. I didn’t think I had them too…. I was hoping I didn’t.” He hugged his arms to his chest, looking troubled.

“So that’s who you were talking about…. Except you’re not dead,” Raz pointed out, and Norman managed a small smile.

“No, but I’m pretty sure she cursed the town before she died, not after. She just got really powerful as a ghost. Anyway, um, there’s this kid who lives here in Gravity Falls. He’s rivals with the Mystery Shack, and wants to take it from my friends any way he can.”

“Including using you, huh? I think I met the guy—short, fat kid with a blue suit and fancy hair?”

“That’s him! What was he doing? Did he say anything about Dipper and Mabel?”

“Ugh, I can’t believe I ever felt sorry for him. He tried to get me to take something from here, then threw me at you hoping I’d get zapped. I tried questioning him, but he got away and I decided helping you was more important. I don’t know anything about your friends. Sorry,” he replied, and Norman bit his fingernails.

“He’s probably doing the same thing to them as he did to me… minus the ‘unlocking crazy witch powers’ part. We’ve gotta go find them!”

“Don’t worry, I will,” Raz reassured him, “but I’m pretty sure you’re going to need to rest. Let me jump outta here and we’ll see.”

“Okay. Raz… in case I like, drop dead or something… thanks. For not listening to me and sticking around to sort my problems.”

“I’m a Psychonaut. It’s what I do,” Raz grinned, pulling the goggles back on and letting his projection fade and weightlessness take over. He passed the medium’s mental barriers and felt they were weak, but rebuilding, which was good; then felt the comfort of his own mind and body at last. Blinking, he pulled the goggles back to their usual spot on his forehead and went to check on his new friend. He was still curled up against the wall, but his limbs had relaxed and there were no longer waves of emotion pouring from him. In fact, he was sound asleep.

“Heh, guess I could say ‘rest in peace’,” Raz chuckled to himself, but he really was glad Norman seemed to be free of those nightmares. But now two other kids were being driven insane too, by someone who sounded like he didn’t need any help from psitanium to have his own mental issues. He rushed down the stairs, made sure the door was bolted behind him, and with a leap was off rolling again. He crossed town, trying to avoid too much attention by using the side streets, but the people here didn’t seem to bat an eye even when he crossed their path. Maybe between a kid psychic and a tourist trap hawking oddities both natural and manufactured, nothing surprised them anymore.

“Huh.” Raz had worried he’d miss the house, but that was impossible with that giant billboard in the front yard. And now he knew the kid’s name too—he hadn’t even introduced himself earlier. Of course that was the least of Gideon’s offenses and not what Raz found detestable about him. Stepping up to the entry, he debated whether to charge in or go stealth mode on the monstrous little jerk. But his decision was made for him when the door opened.

“Oh, well imagine meetin’ you here, friend,” Gideon drawled, seeming genuinely surprised.

“Cut the act, Gideon. I know what you bought on the black market two weeks ago, and what you’re using it for,” Raz said, poking an accusing finger into the other boy’s chest. “I know you’ve got Norman’s friends in there. You’re going to hand them over, and the meteorite, and no one has to get hurt.”

“Y’sure you don’t want to chat a bit first? Maybe over a cola or somethin’?”

“No way! That’s not gonna work on me, and neither is your little hypnosis trick!”

“We’ll see about that, boy!” Gideon growled, wrapping chunky fingers around his tie. Raz felt something fold around his head and force him to stare into the amulet’s center as it glowed, the turquoise light filling his vision. It felt like his mind was being wrapped in a towel, and something pricked at the edges of his consciousness. But that was as far as Gideon got.

“Why can’t I break through? It worked on the others!” he cried angrily, his concentration wavering just enough for Raz to shake the amulet’s effects and rip it from him.

“No!” Gideon howled, tackling the psychic and knocking him to the ground. Raz got the wind knocked out of him, but he refused to let go of the tie. Gideon tried to pry it from his fingers, but superior hand strength was one of the many traits of an acrobat and he didn’t have much luck. Raz punched him off with his free hand, and the chubby kid rolled onto his back, only to meet Raz’s harsh gaze staring down at him.

“You’re not even a real psychic, are you?”

Gideon shook his head, cowed, then found himself lifted and set on the roof.

“You can hang out there for a while. I’ve gotta clean up your mess,” Raz said with a scowl, then stuck the amulet in his bag and strolled into the ranch house, ignoring Gideon’s shrill protests and threats. Shutting a blaring TV off, Raz listened for Gideon’s captives, but he felt them before he heard them. It wasn’t the same aura of negative emotions as Norman had given off. Actually, it was hard to say what was going on with them; there seemed to be something like a feedback loop muddling his perception. At least he knew where they were now, and headed down the hall.

Opening the door, he found the room was dark but for a luminous purple glow coming from behind two forms slumped back to back in chairs. He darted in, and barely noted the pair were twins before shoving the psitanium in its container and putting it in his bag as well. But they—Norman had said their names were Dipper and Mabel—weren’t out of danger yet. The effects of that much psitanium would take a while to wear off, and by then the damage could already be done.

“Uh,” he started, as he began pulling off the bindings around their feet, “just so you guys know, I’m a friend. I already helped Norman, he’s fine now. I’m gonna take you back home, and then help you, okay? Dipper? Mabel?”

“She’s in sweater town…” Mabel groaned, her face buried in the collar of her sweater, and he stared for a moment before frowning sadly and continuing to untie them. There was no response from her brother, which was a bit more concerning, but he couldn’t afford to waste time guessing what his problem was. Tossing the ropes to the floor, he gently lifted the two with projected hands and maneuvered through the house. Gideon was still swearing oaths from the roof as he exited.

“You’ll rue the day you crossed me, goggles! I’ll put a curse on your whole family! You‘ll—”

Raz abruptly turned and smiled at him serenely. “My family’s already cursed. Thanks though.”

Gideon’s face fell as if he was disappointed someone had beaten him to the punch. Raz spun on his heel and continued on, secretly burning with rage. The Pines remained curled in his telekinetic hold, unaware of anything around them; their rival’s irate shouting fell on deaf ears.