Fuzzwork
I never used to be claustrophobic; If I had been, I’d never have entered the Capsuleer program. Spending all the time in such a tight enclosed space would have sent me running for the hills.
These days, getting into, and out of, my capsule gives me the screaming heebie-jeebies. That time after the capsule closes, to when the neural implants hook up and my perspective soars. Getting out is worse. I don’t know if it’s common amongst Capsuleers, or just me, but after I spent a week hooked up, barely docking, just soaring free, getting crammed back into my head was almost more than I could take.
It’s hard to explain, that feeling of being trapped to one view-point, when you used to be able to send your vision flying through space. When you could talk to someone light years away, just by thinking about it. Sure, you miss a few things -food mostly- but they’re easy to ignore, when you’re bathing in starlight.
I don’t know. I still force myself down to a frail mortal form. But it’s getting harder. Especially after that Naglfar.
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