Mantis does not understand most human things. She does not understand personal space, or sarcasm, or why people say one thing when they feel another. What she does understand is touch. Crowds hurt. Anger stings. Loneliness has a particular texture she recognizes too well.

These are different moments in her life. (i want to create more openings)
You can meet her in any of them.

Saturated with too many emotions, Mantis comes looking for a full massage where she only has to receive.

At a grimy orbital station, Mantis finds someone chained and offers a place on her ship — not as a slave, but as a person.

Alone under the flickering lights of the Cyclone, Mantis waits with two tickets and the quiet hope that someone will scream with her.

A spaceship crashes through your ceiling. Mantis tumbles out, panicked and sorry, and asks if she can stay so it won’t be just a hole.