[ There's a feeling that comes over most people when Mantis is sifting through their minds — of sudden ripples in dark water, or the rustling of dead leaves. An unease, like the sensation of eyes on your back when you know you're completely alone. He could go in without a trace, he's long since perfected that, but he'd rather leave his victims jittery and looking over their shoulders, unable to quite trust themselves.
That's his story, at least. And anyway, there's no one around this place to accuse him of simply being too damned lazy for surgical precision, is there? It's for the best, probably; an unmotivated psychic is a less dangerous than usual psychic. So what if Mantis is doing the clairvoyant equivalent of channel surfing? There must be something here that can hold his interest. If not, he'll just have to provide his own entertainment.
So: you're all alone in this corridor in the Ingress Complex, but you swear you can almost hear the dry rasp of someone else's breathing. There's a nagging tug inside your head, and an old memory stirs — somewhere or someone that you haven't seen in a long time. And a silent whisper at the back of your mind, in a voice that could be your own: ]
You're a very long way from home.
network; goth ice breakers }
I've heard that space is a terrible place to die. So few of us will ever be lucky enough to find out.
Show of hands: have any of you tested it? (On others or on yourselves. I welcome all perspectives.)
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[ ANYTHING GOES. What would be the most inconvenient possible time for a bored psychic asshole to go spelunking in your brain, because that's probably what's gonna happen. ]
psycho mantis • those sneaky snakey games
network; goth ice breakers }
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