18886/HUNGER - Emotions and Sacrifice

HUNGER - Emotions and Sacrifice
Date of Scene:	20 August 2024
Location:	Launch and Arrival Platform - Atlantic Starport
Synopsis:	Mantis and Monet talk about souls and Surfers
Cast of Characters:	Mantis, Monet St. Croix
Tinyplot:	Hunger

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Mantis has posed:
The crew of the Milano has had a lot of passengers from Terra these last few weeks. Coming and going, coming and going, to and from the Atlantic Spaceport positioned squarely in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, Earth. And so, after their brief visit to Oa, the Guardians of the Galaxy have once again touched down to let their Earthling passengers off.

Mantis stands at the bottom of the Milano's exit ramp, one hand placed over the other in front of her waist. As each passenger disembarks, she's there to smile at them, awkwardly, with both sets of teeth like she practiced, and welcome them home.

"Thank you for choosing The Milano," she tells each of them.

Like they had a choice.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Sometime after the arrival of the group back on Earth, the flight of the Surfer about the planet, and the 'exploration' of the swamps with the Man-Thing, and the other things which had gone on in the chaotically short time since everything had escalated with Galactus.. Monet had spent the flight back to Earth thinking. On what had been said in multiple separate ways, now all added together.

"Mantis, might I have a bit of your time?" Her thoughts were rather calm. "I need to ask you a few questions if you have.. Answers on them. Of how the.. Surfer felt and responded to things."

Mantis has posed:
Mantis' eyes widen, antennae and eyebrows hiked up, as she hears her name and then the request that follows it. "No one asks me questions," she admits, blinking her eyes a couple of times. She has a tendency to fade into the background when she's not doing something foolish and there's rarely a value placed on what may lurk in her head. So, this is somewhat rare.

Her enthusiasm fades a little once Monet clarifies that she has questions about how the Silver Surfer felt to her. Mantis' antennae droop a little. She gives the Milano a side-eyed glance, as though trying to give her crewmates a dirty look through the hull. Was it supposed to be a secret? Probably not, but it is in Mantis' nature to misunderstand.

"Ohhhh?" she begins. "What would you like to know?" She looks down at her own hands. It had not been a pleasant experience for her that day.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would go to lean back over and take a breath, "There have been things which say that the.. Surfer can be a possible ally, or at least not an enemy with Galactus. His.. Sacrifice was that he would serve Galactus, and save his planet and the woman he loved if he did so. His love for the woman made his sacrifice pure, since it was done to save his entire race, and the one he cared most about."

She looks at Mantis - looking for the empath's opinion. On the emotion. Purely on the empath's thought that something like that was true and great.

Mantis has posed:
At some point, somehow, the passengers -- or, at least, /this/ passenger -- heard a bit about her empathic abilities. With the memories of that day in New York coming to the surface, Mantis has started to wring her own hands down at her waist. It had not been pleasant for her. Not at all.

She doesn't look up at Monet. Instead, Mantis continues to stare down at her hands, keeping them in front of her waist. "...I..." she tries.

"I do not know, but..."

But. It's something.

But, she doesn't say the rest.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would let out a sigh, "I understand. And I'm sorry for pushing. But the.. Soul of his lover.." She doesn't know if the appropriate one is 'wife' or not.. "Is directly tied to him and a possible way to.. Gather his attention and his aid." Or to manipulate him. That is within MOnet's mind rather obviously. The girl looks for ways to take advantage of emotional fragilities. That is coming off her in how she postures herself, and radiating out of her mind.

"When I saw him it was as if.. Part of him was.. Repressed? Pressured? You can hopefully be aware more specifically if you were not overwhelmed."

Mantis has posed:
There's a fine line that separates an empath from a telepath. Mantis shakes her head a little, looking up at Monet. "I do not know of his lover," she admits. "I do not know anything about him, actually."

Mantis places her hand on her chest and raises her antennae, standing up just a little straighter, too. "I cannot read minds," she explains. "I am an empath. I can feel the feelings of others, but I do not know their thoughts."

And, as if to prove a point or demonstrate the nuance, Mantis averts her gaze and continues to speak.

"...You feel...helpless," Mantis begins. "...Terrified of what you've experienced."

That's a good guess. But, Mantis continues.

"...But you feel...." Mantis says, hesitating as she continues to zero in on Monet, as though separating the individual taste of ingredients that went into a meal. "...Confident. Confident that you can exploit an enemy."

Mantis hesitates again, trying her best to navigate her way through the topic that comes. "Like everyone, he has emotions..." she says. Instead of elaborating on what those were, Mantis' shoulders slump and her eyes find her hands again.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would nod over at Mantis, and she takes a breath, "Interesting. I could.." She would be lost in thought for a few moments, looking far off. "Your reading of my emotions is accurate. That is specifics just from how I felt, rather than how I thought. You grasp.. Concepts and connections better than most telepaths could, just from those shades of feelings." She taps at her chin.

"I do not know how you sense things, but.. Were you near to him and these topics came up in a way that did not antagonize him, do you think that you could fele him better?" This was something that Monet felt in firmer ground on. More confident.

Calculating how powers worked. Their range, their abilities.. With specifics, with concrete answers, she felt much more sure of herself. And very appreciative of Mantis willingness to answer her.

Mantis has posed:
Monet's praise bounces off of Monet like water on a duck. Her empathic abilities are just part of her, not something she practices. It comes off like praising her for how well she breathes. But, perhaps it is the innate nature of her ability that gives her such insight.

"I felt his emotions. But not exactly. Not really..." Mantis answers, still looking down at her wringing hands. It was a very unpleasant time in New York. Like a human surrounded by too much water, Mantis nearly drowned in the terror felt by New York City when its residents learned of their impending doom.

"He... is not allowed," she tells Monet, once again looking up at the mutant telepath. "He is not allowed to feel them. So, I could not." She looks away yet again. She sounds quite disturbed by that fact.

Mantis sighs at Monet's suggestion. Her shoulders fall.

"Yes. I think so. If I am closer," she admits.

But, that's not all.

"If I touch someone..." Mantis continues. "...I can experience them as my own. And..."

That's not all, apparently.

"...I can change them," Mantis claims. "....Would you like to see?"

Monet St. Croix has posed:
That catches Monet over by surprise. It is evident in her - in her mind, in the slight changing of her posture as she clearly is thinking and putting this in perspective. The light tap of her finger on her cheek. "HIs emotions were.. Repressed? Suppressed? Was he.. Unable to think them? Were they removed from his mind? Forgive me, I know this might not be something you could put into words." Language was such a limiting thing.

Then a thought strikes her. Something which from her sudden change of tone is an idea, but a potentially bad one, a dangerous one, and one that she is not sure of. "Do you think if you were to be up against him you could remove those things which did not let him feel them?"

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet shivers as that last bit is brought up. The shiver of someone that has had their mind played with, thier thoughts and their emotions constricted. She goes still and does not move, breathing slowing. Ever so small a bit of terror quickly pressed down and smoothed away. An old nightmare. "Forgive me."

Mantis has posed:
Mantis sticks each of her hands into her arm pits and pins them down with her biceps. Anything to stop the nervous wringing. She nods her head a little bit, ever so slightly, but not enough to overtly commit to Monet's speculation that the Surfer was being repressed or suppressed.

"I do not know why he cannot feel his feelings," Mantis answers. "But it is not him who is doing it."

Suddenly, Mantis begins to laugh, perhaps inappropriately. Something Monet said causes the alien to laugh like she just heard the funniest joke in the galaxy. She lurches forward, even. It's a real belly laugh.

"People do not /think/ their emotions," she manages to explain in between laughs. She can't really explain it further since, of course, she's not a telepath and has zero insight into reading thoughts. Maybe people can think thoughts /about/ their feelings, but, to Mantis, the feelings themselves come from somewhere else.

Monet's insight on words and how limited they can be with these matters is spot on. Mantis stops laughing and nods her head emphatically to that -- a sudden display of social energy she has not demonstrated yet. Someone finally gets it. Her lane is a difficult one to discuss.

"I do not know," is Mantis' answer about whether she could remove whatever happens to be preventing the Surfer from feeling his own feelings. "I have not encountered this before."

Mantis purses her lips as Monet falls into a brief quagmire of terror, presumably stirred by her offer to demonstrate her powerful pathokenetic ability to change someone else's emotions against their will. "I understand," is all she says. She won't be demonstrating.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
She listens, and she nods over at Mantis and lets out a sigh. "Well, then it is not something we would want to do unless we knew more." Trying to unblock someone's feelings done by another (likely Galactus) would be too risky and too dangerous without having more possible vectors to analyse. And she would not want to put the other woman through something extremely risky that could be so dangerous for her without a guarantee. These sort of emotions go through her. From idea, to success analysis, to risk. Too high a risk, too little a chance of paying off, too high a chance of it merely bringing them loss. And of triggering the wrath of the Surfer and the one that made him that way.

Her thoughts bubble over in a sensation of appreciation - understanding the response, the not necessarily way she is able to explain them, the not knowing. Not everything goes in words. Her own thought-surface is sorrowful. It is not over at Mantis nor what was offered by her. Appreciation of the understanding coming from the girl and of her decline.

Mantis has posed:
Mantis doesn't reply to Monet's decision not to risk it. She just continues to stand there, hands returning to their usual position in front of her waist. She lingers, taking in the emotional landscape of their conversation. Monet might have stopped talking with her mouth, but she has not stopped communicating to Mantis.

The sorrow, the appreciation. Though felt privately, it still reaches Mantis as it all usually does. Mantis doesn't comment on it. She rarely does unless it's important.

"Is there anything else?" she wonders, raising both eyebrows.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would shake her head, "No, there is not. Thank you Mantis." It radiates off her with sincerity. "I appreciate your input very much." It's one line of possibility that has been crossed off as unrealistic. Perhaps to be explored later as an alternative but for now that has a very small chance of being useful so to be discarded.

"You have been a major help. Thank you for going out of your way." It does radiate off her.

Mantis has posed:
Mantis nods her head. "You are welcome," she replies quietly, just as she's seen others do when thanked like this. She hesitates and moves towards the bottom of the Milano's entry ramp.

"Thank you for choosing to fly with us. We know you have many choices when booking travel. Please come back and see us," she tells Monet, clearly reciting something someone told her to memorize, likely as a joke at her expense, before moving to reboard the ship.