A few minutes later, we were in the weight room with a good 20 other people, barricading the door to buy us time if the out of control metahuman came towards us. TMB and I knew it wouldn’t stop anything, but it could help the other people delay it long enough for the two of us to escape. As we shifted benches and stationary bikes, I heard someone say,
/We can stop him./
I looked around, but TMB didn’t seem to hear it, and nobody was reacting, so I ignored it.
/Don’t ignore me! I know you can hear me! Fuck You! Here I am, trying to help you realize your strength, and instead, you’re just, all, noooo, I’m gonna stay a fucking norm! Well, listen up! I’m talking to you!/
“What the fuck?” I said, earning a few strange looks from the surrounding meat shields.
/Look. I’m here to help you out. Realize your hidden potential and all that Yoda crap. Listen to me./
/Seriously, who are you, and why are you in my head?/
/It would be pretty weird if I wasn’t in your head./
/You see, I am YOU!/
At that point, I heard TMB talking.
“Hello? You there?”
“Shit, sorry. Talking to myself, apparently,” I responded. He stared at me, blinked, then shrugged and went back to work. Yep. My friends are fucking awesome. I continued barricading the door, and the voice continued.
/If you’ll forgive the M. Night Shyamalanian plot twist, I’m an extension of your own consciousness. I can make a sorta physical form, but I don’t feel like it yet. I know everything you know, think, yada yada. I’m you, pretty much./
/I don’t believe you./
/But it’s true! I’m your spirit! I think your thoughts, feel your feelings, emote your emotions! Right now, you’re feeling bored, and aggressive! See!/
/ I always feel like that, and make no secret of it. You’re not convincing me./
/You’re a semi-sociopathic thrill-seeking anarchist. Your closest friend displays all the emotion of a brain-dead coma victim. You’ve never been able to hold down a girlfriend for more than 48 hours because you’re prone to mood swings, violence, and oh yeah, being a giant asshole./
/That would be mastrubation./
/If you’re really me, say something only I would say./
/Ah Ha! See, You’re not me after all! But… here’s the deal. I’m sort of in a life-threatening situation, so why don’t you make yourself appear, and if you can, I’ll accept that you’re my soul or whatever./
/Spirit, really, but sure. Make me./
/You can’t appear. So… you’re a telepath who decided to fuck with me./
/What? No! I mean, force me to appear. It’s easy, just imagine your spirit solid./
/Do I need to give it a form? Cause if I do, my spirit is gonna be a fucking dragon./
/No, I already have a form. I’m a cute, fluffy little cat that can run really fast and tear your throat out./
/Wait… So my spirit animal or whatever is a cheetah?/
/I give up./
/A serval. Idiot./
/A serval. It’s a spotted cat./
/Or… you could to tell me now./
/Jesus. The crap you say annoys even… you… Just go already!/
I concentrated as hard as I could. My head began to ache from the strain, but I didn’t stop. I had my eyes closed, and sweat was beading on my forehead for what must have been five minutes until I heard someone say, “So… How long is he going to stay like that?” I opened my eyes, and saw TMB sitting down and watching me. Right next to him was–
“Is that what a serval is? It looks like a midget leopard.”
“Calm down,” gestured TMB with a wave of his hand. “He appeared, and while you were working out your poor fiber, he explained everything to me. He can appear when he wants, and chose who he is visible too. Anyone who can see him can also hear him, and if they intend no harm, touch him.”
“Huh. That’s pretty sick… except for the fact that you can’t attack people. Or you know, do anything.” I said.