Today is October 12th, 2024. You are a normal person, living a normal life, completely unremarkable among over 8 billion others just like you. But today, you are going to manifest psychic powers, and your life will very rapidly cease to be normal. Who are you?
> Gabriela Cabrera, female, 24. Always loved reading and writing stories, and was pressured into college. Has no long-term life plans, a knee-deep pile of debt, and a few months until she has a degree in literature. Deeply avoidant person, only thing keeping her sane is her girlfriend and some high school friends. It's the evening. You are in your pajamas, drinking hot cocoa and reading a romance novel, smuggled up on your bed in your college dorm at the University of California. You imagine yourself as the protagonist, and your girlfriend, Rebecca, as the love interest. The story is scandalous: set in the 18th century, the love interest is secretly selling her body to strange men in exchange for opium. Yet the protagonist fails to notice a thing, too utterly enamored to see the truth. Part of you wonders, with a knot in your stomach: would Rebecca ever do something similar to you?As you stare through the window outside at the moon, you see a bright flash of light. Your body feels warm, warmer than the cocoa. It feels exhilarating, and you feel empowered. What's happening to you?Instinctively, you know. You feel it coursing through your body; psychic power. For a split second, you have a vivid vision of yourself floating in the sky, emanating energy in resonance with the moon. The sheer intensity of it makes your head spin, a creeping dread that you're losing your sanity warring with the sudden, intoxicating euphoria. What's your power?>The power to read minds, so that Rebecca, and any other person you care about, cannot hold secrets from you. You invited Rebecca, your girlfriend, and Robert, your best friend, to dinner at Momo Masala, an Indian restaurant. It’s a rare attempt at normalcy, a distraction from your knee-deep pile of debt, your lack of long-term plans, and the deeply avoidant tendencies that define your life. They are the only things keeping you sane.Rebecca sits across from you. Unkempt blonde hair, a hazy, distant gaze. She is clean, but it’s a fragile cleanliness; she has definitely seen better days. She’s dressed in the bare minimum: a faded purple sweatshirt and matching sweatpants. Living in a homeless shelter means zero clothing budget. You constantly wonder if she’s sticking around because you can afford to buy her a meal, or if she actually loves you. She feels emotionally numb. No smiles, no tender words to soothe your anxieties. Just a hollow presence."Why are we eating here?" Robert asks, adjusting his black-rimmed glasses. "I don't like Indian food."He is the quintessential grumpy "chud". Miserable by default, critically tearing down everything in sight. His venom seems aimed at the world, but you know it's mostly aimed inward. Still, he has his moments: a surprisingly keen eye for fashion, a rare, genuine compliment on something small. That sliver of softness is why you keep him around. You have your own mess of problems, so his misery is comfortably relatable.
"Food is food," Rebecca says, her voice flat. "Would you prefer to eat the slop they serve at the shelter?""I'll pass on that.""Then stop complaining, and eat." >Read Robert's mind, to discover why he's grumpy today, and if anything has hurt his feelings that he hasn't been able to talk about in public. You focus on Robert, pushing your newfound awareness toward him to discover why he's so grumpy today, and if something has hurt his feelings that he can't bring himself to voice in public.Robert's inner world is a chaotic swirl of anxiety and suppressed longing. He has built a moderately successful career and armored himself in the persona of a grumpy chud, but beneath the surface, his mind is obsessed with softer, more delicate things. You can hear his thoughts with startling clarity, though it feels alien, echoing as if through a vast, empty hall."Why did I have to say that about the curry? I just wanted to have a nice time with the girls. God, I always ruin everything. I'm such a screw-up.""I want to be one of the girls, too. But I'm terrified they'll mock me if I let my guard down and act too gentle."You’ve suspected for a while that Robert was more feminine on the inside. There have been hints over the last few months: meticulously shaved arms, nails painted matte black, a sudden, defensive interest in women's fashion when he thinks no one is looking. It’s obvious he’s a closeted trans woman. But hearing his raw, unfiltered thoughts with your newly manifested power makes it undeniable proof."Are you sure you don't like the food, Robert?" you ask."Meh, it's fine," he mutters, looking down at his plate.His internal monologue is a frantic counterpoint. "Oh my god, do I look like I'm not having a good time? We haven't hung out much lately. Is she going to drop me as a friend if I act too depressed?"Listening to his thoughts sends a sharp, throbbing ache behind your eyes. You pull back. The psychic power clearly has negative side effects; you shouldn't push it too hard, too fast. What do you say to Robert?>"Robert, I don't know how to feel about your attitude. I feel like you're keeping secrets from us and this is really upsetting me. I would like for you to speak more openly, if you view me as a friend at all.">"I have always viewed you as one of the girls. If you want to express your feminine side with us, it's fine. Me and Rebecca will never judge you and will support your moods and feelings.">"After the meal, how about we go to the shopping mall and buy dresses? I don't have a huge budget, but I'm paying. Maybe a summer dress for both of you would be nice?"
Previous thread: >>6369506The original QM flaked, so I took over because their quest premise was interesting and had already generated significant interest.
Your girlfriend:> Rebecca Sims, female, 28 years old. Homeless, addicted to heroin, probably some sort of undiagnosed mental illness. Got fired from her acting job after years of mounting stress and misery, lost her apartment, got disowned, and was never able to pick herself back up.Your best friend:> Robert Writt, "male," 31 years old. Uses /lgbt/ and /pol/ consistently, chud, closeted trans woman, hates himself, moderately suicidal, keeps to himself, has a decent job and splits rent with two roommates.
>>6425569>"What kind of food do you like? I'll pick a more fitting place next time."
