Midnight Shadows Guided Games GENEsis: DOFP Genesis In Character Days of Future Past [NYC] Silvercloud. [Beth / Forge]


02-07-2019
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02-07-2019, 07:41 AM
[In-Character] [Post #21]
There was nothing in the way of helping him when he lifted her, there was no need to. She could have made herself utterly weightless in his hands, but he didn’t require the effort, he was always able to lift her up off of her toes. It didn’t matter that his mutation seemed locked up inside of his head, there was plenty of motion in the way that he moved and could moved that around him. Her thighs settled over his hips and her left calf cross her right shin, her arms pushing over his shoulders until her fingers interwove.

There against him, his arms around her, the gentle glow of the bathroom light and the warmth of the shower spray, it was possibly the most calming place in the world to be. For the moment, at least. Even when he pried her lips apart with his own and plunged within.

Everything about him was warm, it always had been. It had nothing to do with mutation, not the way Caitlin could draw heat from her bones, or the way that Gabe or Alex could push it beyond their pores to envelope those around them. It was something else, something beyond his skin pressed against hers, something beyond the open depth of his mind. It beat against her from inside the ribs met up against her own. Something different that the world often sought to snuff out, even that he had sought to smother in her absence.

He drew back almost suddenly, leaving her lips momentarily still seeking his. She found his eyes on her, sweeping slowly over the features offered, and then he spoke, drawing a smile up at the corners of her mouth. Go out. Leave and put the walls and ceilings momentarily behind them. Out to eat, out to drink, out to walk, out to watch. Just out to be. Pretend the world was what it was meant to be, what it had been once before.

His thoughts briefly considered her ability to shift her hair color and she did so to his perception, let it lean to the chocolate she used to struggle to keep up with regularly via chemical alteration when using her telepathy had been a risk. Now it was easy. “Yes.” She responded to the cluttered string of his thoughts. Yes, she could change her hair, yes she wanted to go out and do something with him.

“Perhaps,” she set her forearms on his shoulders and let her eyes briefly wander upward as she considered the options, “we could go out to eat.” She gave a nod. “Then walk home by the park. And then we could lie out on the roof and watch the stars.” She was not necessarily in favor of alcohol in public as she had not had any in some five years and would likely end up on her ass after one go, which she allowed him to be privy to.

“But I would love to go on a date with you.” She smiled wider then. “I’m sure that my husband wouldn’t mind.” A breathy chuckle, then. “You’ll have to put me down, though.”
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02-18-2019
10:57 PM
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02-18-2019, 10:57 PM
[In-Character] [Post #22]
Jon smiled. Something in his chest shifted, lodging in a place so much closer to where it ought to be. He knew he was still finding his way back. Both of them were. While Beth had to come to terms with her telekinesis having developed a connection wired directly into her subconscious, Jon was still learning to believe that she was back by his side.

So when her hair colour shifted to the familiar chocolate brown hue, he allowed a chuckle to bubble up. Her smile mirrored his own and her words confirmed that she wanted to do all of the above so to speak.

When she spoke, her forearms perched across his shoulders, she considered all he had said and thought. Apparently all of his thoughts found her approval. She recounted the things he had offered, tying them into a plan for a lovely night out. “Whatever you want to do”, he murmured against the skin of her neck as his lips planted small kisses up along the soft curves and dips of it.

That she would love to go on a date with him brought a smile to her lips, so reminiscent of the woman he had met all of those years ago. Another small shift, like a heartbeat returning to its natural rhythm bit by bit. To him she was still every little bit the woman he had fallen for then. A few small new lines around her eyes he barely registered. Jon was sure she would still look the same to him in twenty years time.

“Your husband is a fool then”, he muttered, his grin turning boyish for a moment. His arms around her drew her closer, her chest pressed against his. “I’d like to hold you like this for a bit longer”, he murmured, his lips seeking hers in no more than a chaste brush for the moment. It amazed him how his touch appeared to not chase her from him when so often he got the impression she preferred a measure of distance between herself and anyone not under the age of ten.

Again, the sensation of relief welled up as he considered that in five years no one had been able to touch her. Literally. The time had left a different kind of scars, there was no doubt in Jon’s mind. Yet, a large portion of the horror stories Jon had heard from times of captivity involved some kind of sexual violence. Beth did not share in these experiences and Jon remembered more than one occasion since her return that emotion had rolled through him – a great sense of relief paired with a kaleidoscope of memories and emotions stemming from his years without her – and threatened to take his knees out from under him.

His lips found hers again and he inclined his head, his upper lip pushing against hers with gentle determination to ignite this kiss.

Beth Silvercloud… he thought and his mental voice carried the things he did not know how to say. He would take her out, spend a night with her that came right out of a world that no longer existed. But right now he felt a sense of longing, and that sense was all about her.
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02-20-2019
01:10 PM
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02-20-2019, 01:10 PM
[In-Character] [Post #23]
The first weeks had been trying, she knew that, trying to acclimatize herself to her surroundings, to the people directly within them. To him. To being back in a place where it was safe to feel, to see, to sleep, to dream. He was there, he was always there, had always been there. Even when eh had been nothing more than a construct her might sought to create simply to preserve itself and her won state of sanity. It had always gone back to him, always sought the comfort, the warmth, the safety that it had drawn around him. Yet even outside the confines that she had been locked under, out in the open, bound by the quiet walls with little more than him, a brush of fingers against her skin had had her recoiling simply out of reflex. And then the confusion would follow, his, splintered across her thoughts, wondering, always wondering.

As desperate as her thought shad been to have him, once she finally had had him back within reach, her fear had pushed her to curl in on herself. The need to draw away from anything that sought to touch her because for so long it had always hurt. Even with the net that Tony had offered by pushing those nanites into her bloodstream and allowing her her some measure of her abilities, anything touching her or seeking to do so had been a perceived threat. Because they had had no intention of ever being kind.

That she could sigh against him, let herself be drawn flush against his skin, allow the absence of space that would allow her the opportunity to back pedal if she so desired, was progressive. It had been a slow rise to that point. A touch here, a caress there. The sudden presence of lips against her own to take her breath away with little more than a chaste meeting. Slowly, so very slowly. Her mind sought to soak it all up like a sponge that subsisted on the emotions the hear t in her chest expelled for the man holding her.

Kisses against her neck, warmer than the water sluicing around them. She smiled when he commented about her husband being foolish, and she sought to chase the sound of his voice, the lightness in it. “I have thought that, on occasion.” Then his grip tightened, and she allowed for it, drew herself as flush against him as she could manage. He wanted to hold her for a few moments longer and she basked in the sense that he wanted such at all.

She would not cite that she was surprised by his patience, because it had always been there. Still, the measure with which he had exerted it over the prior weeks was startling to her in some sense. She had frequently tried to reach out for him, only to withdraw once she had had her fill, when her anxiety had threatened to pitch her sideways. The longer, though, that she spent realizing and reminding herself that he was real and so much more than an apparition that would turn to smoke, the easier it had become. The memories his mind offered forth, however guarded he sought to keep them like precious remnants of a different life, they tickled at her own.

It was easier, with him, to recall the construct of the workshop and the memories that its walls could speak of. She could remember the park when he had first spoken to her. She could remember every restaurant with such better accuracy, every walk, every bout of laughter, she could remember the weeks spent away from him after he had stolen away into her mind.

When his lips dragged across her own, sought to bait her into reciprocation, she readily gave in. She opened her mouth and met him, drew the tip of her tongue briefly along the swell of his lower lip before she pushed further. Her arms once perched at his shoulder drew around more firmly, fingertips pressing in against his shoulder for better stabilization and to keep him against herself.

She had at one point been able to reach for that seemingly foreign ability to draw them through shadows to better put them more comfortably elsewhere. She could remember doing it in his car, trying to return them to his room, only to end up at that damned catch pad that interfered with any form of teleportation.

She wanted their date, but she wanted this, them, him. It didn’t matter where they went or what they did, what mattered was his presence. She drew back enough to touch the end of her nose briefly against his, slipped the brown form her hair and let it be as it was meant to be for the moment, there was no reason to hide it, not when she was aware of the affection he held for her as her. “I missed you, Jonathan Silvercloud.” She murmured against his chin and let him access to every corner of her mind.
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03-02-2019
04:33 PM
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03-02-2019, 04:33 PM
[In-Character] [Post #24]
The shift was noticeable enough that it pushed all air from his lungs for a moment. Like a huge black door had been pulled away, allowing for air and sun and light to be cast inside. Her mind. She had thrown it open and that sensation alone chased a sheen of goosebumps across his back. Jon smiled, his eyes sliding shut. It surprised him at times at how much their minds were used to being interlinked. Despite it all, this, to them, was like riding a bike.

And yet the sensation of it now as she pushed aside the final barricades was something else entirely. It evened out the planes, added her side back to his. So long, so patiently he had waited for her. Had known better than to push. That was a lesson he had learned with her early on. There was no point pushing this woman.

His breath held a tremor as she spoke, using his full name much like he had used hers. How often had Jon caught himself in these past days and weeks, wondering how in this world he could have ever been as lucky to have this woman marry him? The Omega to his Alpha, literally. The Yin to his Yang. She had shifted things into place for him, had brought forth the man he had never believed he could be.

Jon had never been a fighter in the literal sense. And yet, she had shown him that he still held all the power to ignite change, to do what needed to be done. To be where no one else could be.

He held himself back from the memories stemming out of the years when she had been gone. It was never a good place to turn to for him. So instead he brushed up against hers, feeling a chill race through him at the idea of endlessly removing any chance for human interaction. But beyond that, he saw himself. A version, a mirror image of himself in her mind that she had pulled forward during endless days and nights bleeding into one another.

Jon found in her the very same need to reassure herself, to find over and over that he was not just a figment of her imagination.

“And I you …” he whispered, teeth finding and claiming her lower lip. The hint of a bite, before he renewed their kiss and found in her the same longing he held in himself. To renew, to once more find and build and bond. And right there, underneath the shower, their bodies already naked, Jon Silvercloud made love to his wife. At times slow, at times faster. Longing and giving. Taking and offering. She knew his heart, his mind. And his body he would gladly give her to use however she needed.

When they were done, Jon’s legs barely holding the both of them up while his lips lingered on hers in the aftermath of his climax, he just listened to his heart beat. Chest pressed against chest, where her organ mirrored the race his was on. His eyes gazed up into pools of lavender. “Staying in bed isn’t considered a date, is it?” he murmured, a grin lighting up the colour of his eyes.

He thought of pizza. Maybe Chinese takeout? Wasn’t there a Thai restaurant? Or what about going to the movies? Could they be so cocky and simply mix and mingle with the people who could and would potentially hunt them to submit them through the hell Beth had gone through once more? Did he want a movie though? Sitting next to Beth for two hours in silence in the darkness? No … he wanted to look at her, listen to her, watch her. He wanted that smile of hers – friendly but cheeky. Suggestive at times, teasing at others. That smile she could do that he knew was only for him. He wanted her laughter because only hearing her laugh could manifest that belief that it all would eventually be better. That she would be better…

Because he had to ensure that she would be better. If after everything he had done this woman still loved him, there was nothing he would not do.
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03-15-2019
12:09 AM
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03-15-2019, 12:09 AM
[In-Character] [Post #25]
People thought they understood the depth and construct of the human mind, that ridiculous notion that they only utilized ten percent. She had never understood it. Even she, who seemingly had limitless access to anyone’s psyche, found herself often discovering newer reaches, deeper pockets of thoughts and memories that individuals kept well-guarded deep within themselves. There was so much that one mind could hold, that thinking anyone had a handle on the complexities one could manage and trying to figure it into defined sectors and spaces was like trying to traverse the universe with a map of only a single galaxy.

Most lingered in one area, others pushed further. And she wanted him further.

When his mind sought to pitch itself through his own thoughts, those that existed in the void their separation had allowed, he would draw himself forward and back out, tumble into hers as though they were safer. He was there inside of them, a version, an echo, an image she had often sought to cling to, running through old conversations a hundred and two times just to pass the time of day. And so many other discussions that she could have thought up, directions they might have branched into, ideas they could have shared, plans they could have made. With her version of him she had mentally decorated rooms with what she thought his input would offer, considered names for children she was sure they would never be back together again to try making, decided where they could ever go on a normal honeymoon if the world wasn’t so awful.

She kissed him harder, pressed her mouth more firmly against his and her arms about him tightened, almost afraid he would slip through her fingers as he had before. How many times had she been in such a similar position, a similarly quiet place, only to have to let her mind release the image she had drawn simply to balance out her sanity.

His hand around the side of her neck, the other pushing between their bodies and ghosting along the length of her side, fingers curling around her thigh that she flexed to keep against him. She gasped when he pushed inside of her, the moan offered forth trembled in her throat and tears were lost in the shower’s downpour. His hips moved, and hers followed suit. She had chased the memories of the very sensation so many times, never finding the perfection she was afforded in the moment. He seemed to wait for her, slowed at times, and then pushed faster, harder, and she had to force her mind to go lax in order to let her body give.

She untangled her mind from his and instead wrapped her kinesis about them to keep him on his feet and relieve some of her weight from his arms.

“I don’t see why that isn’t acceptable.” She replied, her lips against this ear, her thumb stroking against the nape of his neck. They weren’t twenty-year-olds off on their first or second date. “Pizza.” She smirked, sampling the thought from him. She was starting to wonder if they lived with mutant turtles with how often pizza was in the theater’s halls. “But you’ve teased me with the thought of being out.” She pressed a kiss against the side of his neck. “At least up on the roof, under the stars.” She smiled then. “We could ‘go out’ in the morning.” She reasoned, she loved breakfast.

“I honestly have little desire to put any manner of clothing back on my body.”
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03-15-2019
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[In-Character] [Post #26]
People thought they understood the depth and construct of the human mind, that ridiculous notion that they only utilized ten percent. She had never understood it. Even she, who seemingly had limitless access to anyone’s psyche, found herself often discovering newer reaches, deeper pockets of thoughts and memories that individuals kept well-guarded deep within themselves. There was so much that one mind could hold, that thinking anyone had a handle on the complexities one could manage and trying to figure it into defined sectors and spaces was like trying to traverse the universe with a map of only a single galaxy.

Most lingered in one area, others pushed further. And she wanted him further.

When his mind sought to pitch itself through his own thoughts, those that existed in the void their separation had allowed, he would draw himself forward and back out, tumble into hers as though they were safer. He was there inside of them, a version, an echo, an image she had often sought to cling to, running through old conversations a hundred and two times just to pass the time of day. And so many other discussions that she could have thought up, directions they might have branched into, ideas they could have shared, plans they could have made. With her version of him she had mentally decorated rooms with what she thought his input would offer, considered names for children she was sure they would never be back together again to try making, decided where they could ever go on a normal honeymoon if the world wasn’t so awful.

She kissed him harder, pressed her mouth more firmly against his and her arms about him tightened, almost afraid he would slip through her fingers as he had before. How many times had she been in such a similar position, a similarly quiet place, only to have to let her mind release the image she had drawn simply to balance out her sanity.

His hand around the side of her neck, the other pushing between their bodies and ghosting along the length of her side, fingers curling around her thigh that she flexed to keep against him. She gasped when he pushed inside of her, the moan offered forth trembled in her throat and tears were lost in the shower’s downpour. His hips moved, and hers followed suit. She had chased the memories of the very sensation so many times, never finding the perfection she was afforded in the moment. He seemed to wait for her, slowed at times, and then pushed faster, harder, and she had to force her mind to go lax in order to let her body give.

She untangled her mind from his and instead wrapped her kinesis about them to keep him on his feet and relieve some of her weight from his arms.

“I don’t see why that isn’t acceptable.” She replied, her lips against this ear, her thumb stroking against the nape of his neck. They weren’t twenty-year-olds off on their first or second date. “Pizza.” She smirked, sampling the thought from him. She was starting to wonder if they lived with mutant turtles with how often pizza was in the theater’s halls. “But you’ve teased me with the thought of being out.” She pressed a kiss against the side of his neck. “At least up on the roof, under the stars.” She smiled then. “We could ‘go out’ in the morning.” She reasoned, she loved breakfast.

“I honestly have little desire to put any manner of clothing back on my body.”
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Yesterday
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[In-Character] [Post #27]
Jon smiled when he felt an odd kind of pressure wrap around him like an unrelenting but still gentle sleeve. It was her telekinesis, he realised, taking weight off of his legs. His grin turned boyish. “The old man is grateful for the leg up.” He chuckled, his eyes closed as he simply allowed himself to fully be in that moment.

When she eventually spoke, her lips brushed against the lobe of his ear and Jon felt a shiver race through him. Then his smile split his lips while his eyes remained closed. She echoed his thought about pizza, and he huffed out a breath following her mind. Jon’s mind instantly went off on another tangent, wondering why not spend some time with his wife in the kitchen, preparing some good old school steak sandwiches together.

Her kiss to his neck chased another shiver down his back and he drew her closer, just a little. Like a tiny squeeze.

“Breakfast it is”, he said, slightly nodding when she suggested going out in the morning. Jon could barely remember when they had done breakfast last. Then he pulled his head back, looking into pools of lavender for a moment. “Not putting on any clothes … and heading up onto the roof?” His facial expression changed into one of mock contemplation. “It’s winter”, he reminded her. Then he considered whether Beth was really concerned about the weather given what she could do with her telekinesis.

“So what do you want to do, Mrs. Silvercloud”, addressing her like this just warmed his heart in a way he did not have words for. “Just lie in bed, no clothes and doing some stargazing?” They would not be outside but with the glass roof they could definitely see the sky and the stars above them. “Or let this old man help you into some clothes and head out onto the roof terrace.” His gaze dropped to her lips for a moment, before Jon drew it back up to her eyes.

“I do certainly see the benefit of just picking option number one … saves me having to take all that clothing off of you again.”
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