ginger_firebird (
ginger_firebird) wrote in
nexus_crossings2020-07-15 01:36 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Busking at the Fountain
Visitors to the fountain might see a somewhat unusual sight this day. Mantis is having a glorious sit next to the mist coming off of the water and has a leash wrapped around his wrist. On the other end of the leash is a catwing in a harness. It’s a happy little calico flapping his wings and batting at the water as Mantis watches. There’s a basket with long straps sitting by Mantis’ feet and from it he pulls out a bottle of water to drink from. The weather has been simply too hot for his liking, but Yaga needs his exercise.
Mantis sighs and wipes at the sweat pooling at the back of his neck. He’s dressed in the lightest cotton tank he could find and the most breathable linen pants, and still he’s overheating marvelously. The swimming heat does give him an idea, though, and he looks around him briefly before nodding. There were people in the Nexus who knew when their minds were being read. Surface thoughts that were easy enough to get through, but he’s also met those who have a profound level of influence and control.
So why not see where they are? One psychic to another. Mantis begins to hum quietly to himself, but sensitive ears and minds might be able to hear his hymn. It’s a mournful little melody born out of the remnants of childhood memories and he’s used it to amplify his powers for years. It was always meant to sink deep into a part of the brain that was easier to read, easier to control, but he’s not looking to make a puppet or even mess around all that much.
A question echoes and repeats along the notes of the music as it cycles back and forth along the vicinity around the fountain and perhaps even further: “Can you hear me? Do you know where I am? How alone are we in a place like this?”
Mantis sighs and wipes at the sweat pooling at the back of his neck. He’s dressed in the lightest cotton tank he could find and the most breathable linen pants, and still he’s overheating marvelously. The swimming heat does give him an idea, though, and he looks around him briefly before nodding. There were people in the Nexus who knew when their minds were being read. Surface thoughts that were easy enough to get through, but he’s also met those who have a profound level of influence and control.
So why not see where they are? One psychic to another. Mantis begins to hum quietly to himself, but sensitive ears and minds might be able to hear his hymn. It’s a mournful little melody born out of the remnants of childhood memories and he’s used it to amplify his powers for years. It was always meant to sink deep into a part of the brain that was easier to read, easier to control, but he’s not looking to make a puppet or even mess around all that much.
A question echoes and repeats along the notes of the music as it cycles back and forth along the vicinity around the fountain and perhaps even further: “Can you hear me? Do you know where I am? How alone are we in a place like this?”
no subject
"I can hear you, Mantis. Also, that hymn. It's remarkably powerful and deep."
Truth be told it was rather mournful and reached right into Loki's soul, plucking at the fibres of his very being. Was it something that struck true with his own tortured past? Perhaps. This is why Loki and Mantis had almost clicked instantly as friends. They shared similar paths in life.
Walking up to where his masked friend was sitting with his catwing, the god offered Mantis a nod and a glance towards his feline friend. Tendrils of thought and emotion were tugging at Loki's gut, causing him to close his eyes for a moment, just trying to make sense of the flood of feelings he was now experiencing.
no subject
"I used this back home to control people. The last time I used it, I almost killed several people. It digs down, past the surface, and into the places where people are weak and in the most immediate danger."
He feeds a softer emotion, one of calm, into Loki's mind. He can see all the emotions swirling up and around and through memory and the other man's perception of time.
"You're not human, are you? Just human shaped."
no subject
"Indeed I am not. I may look human to most but I am Asgardian and a god. My magic allows me to also use mind control magic but I do not possess the ability that you have, Mantis. My forte is in illusion magic and summoning."
The little catwing had tried to run away when he noticed the rather tall and menacing man in the black suit. Poor thing. Loki had his own back home at his apartment no doubt clawing his furniture. It was a good thing he could use his magic to create new pieces.
"You say you almost killed several people with your mind magic? I can see how it would have such amplitude to do so. That hymn, it caused emotion to well up inside of me and--"
He paused and did not wish to bring up any unpleasant memories since they hurt. They hurt bad and this was neither the time nor the place to spill his emotional burdens onto Mantis.
no subject
“No one is really a god. They can be long-lived, powerful, and have a host of powers, but not a real god.” He does, however, realize why Loki’s name was so familiar. Loki and Asgard. “I am not familiar with the old stories, but I remember that you were adopted. A king, a queen, the one with the hammer, and you. You had a lot more stories than your brother.”
As he speaks, Mantis rubs the back of Yaga’s head and neck. The catwing kitten mewls and starts to purr. A thumb traces under his chin, causing the kitten to close his eyes and tilt his head back.
“Almost. I’ve killed many more in the past. It comes with the kind of military training I got. I don’t regret what I did, but I regret why I did it. Somewhere, I lost control of myself and became something I didn’t want to be.”
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
She twirls her umbrella and follows the music until she reaches the fountain. The catwing catches her attention with a small smile.
Dressed in black, and wearing a large ankh around her neck, Death stepped forward until she could face Mantis himself.
"Why do you think you are alone?" She speaks verbally. Her powers would be too much for him to be suddenly introduced to.
no subject
"I'm used to being one of a few. Every time I meet someone who knows what I'm doing, our powers are rarely exactly the same."
Yaga perks up seeing her and tries to flap his way over to meet the new lady. He wishes to explore the mysteries of her umbrella and sits up to try and grab it.
no subject
She smiles at how the catwing tries to grab her umbrella. So she twirls it in his face. And clicks her tongue at him.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
He wonders how similar and different his abilities and Mantis's are. Maybe, as he spends more time with other psychics, he'll learn.
It's a little strange, thinking of himself as a "psychic". In his universe, the Force is something much deeper than that, something intrinsically part of him and who he is. It's deeply bound to his galaxy and its history. He's glad it followed him to the Nexus. His powers are his identity. Not all, but they're what makes him who he is - for better and for worse. He's already decided that he and Mantis have things in common.
"I didn't realize you got one of those. They're friendly creatures. Mine is still getting settled."
no subject
Mantis scoops up Yaga and holds him up. Yaga bats at his mask with his front paws and settles a little onto his shoulder. Mantis strokes one wing slowly and carefully, getting a quick series of flaps that bat at his head more than the paws did.
“His name is Yaga, after a grandmother of great wisdom and strength from my childhood stories.” Ben talks of his own powers as being connected to a greater force, or perhaps even a Force? It makes Mantis wonder how in-born such powers can be. He never noticed a greater energy that surrounded those like him, but there must at least be a possibility. “Dogs are much more familiar to me, but this girl was in need of giving Yaga and his siblings homes.”
no subject
But controlling whole crowds is something Force-users can't do. Ben could implant suggestions into people who were vulnerable to that - and, he recognizes with a wince, his abilities were a natural fit for torture - but he couldn't psychically command crowds. Mind tricks couldn't be used on just anyone. Maybe that's a difference between Mantis's abilities and his.
"I have one, too - and an animal called a porg. It's a species from my home galaxy. They're cute, I'll admit, but they're a little on the annoying side."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
Rondo is not visible, though he's close by, on the opposite side of one of the buildings adjacent to the fountain. He can only barely hear the audible hymn, but his ears and his brain are both highly-attuned to the kind of power Mantis is using.
"Are you in danger?" The return telepathy is sharp and dry, taciturn, but accompanied with texture and sensation--hot brick under the fingertips of a small left hand, the sun on the back of his head, the taste of the air, the scratch of a tag in his shirt as it rubs against his skin. A wash of transmitted sensation sent across deliberately. Whether it's a tactic meant to keep the stranger out of Rondo's deeper levels of thought, or a kind of challenge aimed at what he sees as an alien mage, is hard to say. Possibly a little of both.
no subject
His head perks up, along with Yaga’s, and he turns where he sits to face this person who is so clearly able to talk back along the same channels that Mantis can access. Mantis can’t help but smile, just a little. This is more his speed. He shakes his head physically and his words going back are tinged with curiosity.
“None at all. You’re against one of the buildings. I only wanted to poke my nose around, so to speak, and see who can really hear me the way I can hear them. My name is Psycho Mantis. I ended up here not too long ago.”
no subject
He can feel the curiosity, senses some of the nuances in the communication, beyond words. This is not meant as aggression, clearly, although it strikes him as pushy and uncomfortable nonetheless. Like someone on the train who wants to have a friendly conversation but is standing far too close to do it.
"This would be considered impolite in my culture," his response comes, and he hasn't made any effort to move or to hide where he is, though the sensations still ripple across the lines of communication. The direction of the sunlight and the breeze may well help Mantis pinpoint which building he's behind.
"I mean, to reach out so widely and so deeply, without an emergency you need help with.
But everyone approaches things differently here." He's still wary, but not accusatory. "My name is Rondo."
The texture of the telepathy shifts, sensation giving way to sound--but this time it's not a sound that's present around him. Rather, it's a memory, the hum of insect wings between rocks and a light, fluttery scratch-scratch-chirp of something hunting them. "I just visit here. I live on my own home planet."
(no subject)
no subject
A voice comes back to Mantis; high, ethereal and the language one unknown to humans, or most of them anyway. The haunting and sorrow filled dialect of Enochian used by the fallen angels. There are no words clear in the string of sounds per say but feelings. Unity, power, a sense of guardianship that come like their own siren call on the air to Mantis' ears and his alone. Such is the nature of contact with this angel. Some are lured by the voice, others hypnotized. Someone with a similar power might experience both or neither. The final notes are definitely a tug to come to the voice and escape loneliness.
no subject
"Who are you?" He speaks the words as much as he thinks them back at her.
no subject
"Someone who is always listening." The voice comes quiet and in Mantis' own language this time bu there's still just a peaceful, calm curiosity.
A long pause happens while Phenex works on pinpointing the exact place this person is standing. After all, this is close enough to a prayer that an angel can find it but different enough that it isn't quite instinctual. When the silence does break it is with the sound of feathers nearby and the smell of sulfur.
The angel that appears is tall, thin, with white hair, eyes and skin. The wings though are a riot of changing colors, that eventually people learn reflect the angel's mood. Phenex is wearing a deep purple outfit that could be a tailored robe or loose fitting dress. Gender cues are a mix so equivalent it's hard to say if this is a masculine or feminine presence. Though in general the whole presences is serene and passive.
"I am Phenex, one of many who are always listening." Even the voice seems absent of the ability to determine if this is a male or female.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
Before a sudden thought comes up, like a soap bubble. Mantis!
And then, he remembers everything.
He relaxes.
Hey, Mantis? Yani here. Where're you, sir? I'd love to meet you again. There's so much to talk about, you can't even begin to imagine. Please? Maybe in a bar. It all might be best said when piss drunk.
no subject
Where are you? When did you gain your full faculties? I have so many questions. Like the Priestess and who the hell was that woman exactly, he still wants some words. Show me. Look around and I'll borrow your senses.
no subject
Patience! I'm not gonna disappear. Wait, no, I shouldn't say stuff like that, or I just might. Temporary existence and all.
He looks around, and will let Mantis see. Where is he? Well, Hiroki wasn't going anywhere in particular, he was just taking a walk, but right now, he's somewhere near The Yendi's Arms cafe, and he's going to wait there for him.
I was wondering how to thank you, if you were even real in the first place. Now I know you are, so the question remains.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
He catches it though, when the music repeats in the quieter earlier part of the song. He pauses in his steps and pulls his headphones down. That wasn't his music player acting up, and it wasn't his psychometry, it doesn't have the same feel. It's someone else.
"You hear that BD?" he glances back at the tiny droid clinging to his back. BD trills inquisitively and tilts his head. Cal laughs softly and closes his eyes. It's a sad and haunting sort of sound. He hesitates a bit and tilts his head in one direction then the other. He's young and has incomplete training and honestly isn't that great at this sort of thing.
But... he picks a direction and walks. It's louder near the fountain. There. Maybe.
"If you feel alone," he speaks quietly an open friendly smile on his face, "I'm sure there's probably easier ways to find a new friend."
no subject
At the fountain, Mantis is focusing again on playing with Yaga. The young catwing is flipped onto his back across Mantis's lap and enjoying a belly rub before a promising nap. Mantis looks up and makes a surprised noise seeing the droid rolling on up to him. Less so at the human that comes with it.
"I'm not too alone. It's more of a call to those who know how to talk the way I can. You being able to hear me does tell me something important about this place. It takes certain kinds of minds to hear the music, let alone the words."
no subject
"I almost missed it, I was kind of blasting my own music," he smiles and points to the now silent headphones handing around his neck, "So you managed to get me, just barely. It feels... similar to some things I can do but not quite I guess."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Ki ki ki, ma ma ma!
His experience with manipulation has left a bad taste in his mouth.
Following the Hymn to its source he reacts to this attack on his mind by advancing on Mantis with full intent to kill him.
His machete bared to the cruel sun his every fiber writhing with hatred for the being that would dare creep thoughts into his own mind.
The Dream Demon fell for such an outrage and so would all others.
He would make the questions stop, forever.
THANK YOU??????
He's hovering above Jason and even going so far as to keep his legs bent close to his body. Definitely looks like a movie serial killer. Definitely acts like a deranged maniac. Definitely a problem.
Mantis tries reaching into this attempted murderer's mind, but he's distinctly wary of what he might find. Just the surface, right?
Ki ki ki, ma ma ma!
Without firing synapses the thoughts of Jason leave no psychic manifestation that is easily detectable.
Although he has a psychic presence it is muddled and hard to read without committing to a deep psychic dive which any competent practitioner of Telepathy would know can harbor its own set of dangers.
In the world outside of Jason's mind he looked up at the floating man with his cat and sweater.
For two seconds he contemplated his options, then reached down to the fountain, tore off a chunk of masonry the size of his own chest and threw it at Mantis as water leaked out from the fountain and pooled about his feet.
Jason was not pleased with the second invasion of his mind, he was not pleased at all.
(no subject)
UndeadTank4Life
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)