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


12-02-2018
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12-02-2018, 09:37 PM
Silvercloud. [Beth / Forge] [Post #1]
Silvercloud

Forge and Beth are working hard to catch up to reality. After five years, the other is suddenly no longer a figment of imagination. But those five years, they need to be spoken about. They need to talk, put things out in the open and allow their marriage to catch up the time they missed. While things appear to function initially, there are so many things unsaid. Both still are the other's first priority, but can that kind of bond survive the harsh times they have gone through?

Location: Theatre attic.
A loft-like construction. Forge has begun to put radiators in there and convert it from a storage place to something that could serve as a place to live for the both of them. Just over half of the attic's roof is made of glass, allowing them to spend time under a starry sky even as the world dips into winter outside.


RULES
* For Forge [Chrissie] & Beth [Fred] initially. Crashing is allowed.
* All GENEsis and Board rules apply.
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[In-Character] [Post #2]
It was at times a struggle to pull herself out, to remind herself that it was safe for her entire mind to be awake. And in the same breath, that it had been safe enough to let her entire mind shut down during the night. The arm that had curled around her should have been enough to chase her fears to the shadows where they belonged, but that arm was absent when she drew her eyes open.

Her anxiety ignited like a small flame.

There was no chill to her skin, no containment capsule keeping her locked tight within a compound basement. Instead, the stars stared back at her from overhead. There were no voices murmuring about what next steps to take, how to break her mind, how to temper the kinesis that Tony’s tampering so long ago had allowed her to lift even in the presence of inhibitors. There was only a quiet humming, mechanical in nature. There was warmth around her, soft cotton sheets, a thick blanket tucked around her.

Her right hand pushed out beside her finding the subtly wrinkled sheet cool to the touch and she wondered if his mind had stirred him and then baited him into running away with it.

She could feel him, some thread of her mind in all of her immediate surroundings told her that he was within the building. The connection rippled and she tried to force herself to temper the seeking.

[Jon?]

She brushed the surface of his thoughts and everything to her immediate right side lifted into the air. Beth swallowed at the sight and carefully set the armoire back down quietly on its feet, positioned the laundry basket just beside it, settled the bedside table, the lamp, the clock, the water bottle, and the empty mug.

Her tele-everything was in a constant disarray that had her questioning her own control at times. She could focus it down fine to a point when she needed it, as she had done when she had slipped into Scott’s head and completely immobilized him. Yet her emotions threatened to pitch sideways during a nightmare and her abilities followed suit.
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12-04-2018
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12-04-2018, 02:38 PM
[In-Character] [Post #3]
The kettle was boiling and Jon shut off the small stove. He would have a world of work left to do in order to turn this place into anything one could call a home. And yet, exactly that was what he was looking for. His own workshop had been dismantled. Jaxon had barely managed to recover some of the harddrives the SGF had attempted to destroy. Some of his clothes they had gotten from there as well. But everything else was gone.

Homeless, Jon thought, not sure whether to laugh about it or be miserable.

He did not miss the workshop. It was a symbol for the man he had become without Beth. A weak, sad little creature who had drowned his sorrow in alcohol and traded favours with the enemy. There was still a lot to talk about – a lot that Beth did not know. Maybe that was another reason why he had talked Gabriel into leaving this part of the theatre to Beth and him. It gave Jon something to do. Something useful and right. He needed simple equations in that regard right now.

So, often when the other residents of the theatre got together to plan and plot the next steps, Jon remained behind. He preferred the loft up here. He had put in several walls by dismantling and cleaning out debris and thus finding materials to use in other parts of the old theatre. There would be a sleeping area, one bathroom completely walled off, a small kitchenette bleeding into the large open living area. He just could not imagine living in any other way. He had given up on small rooms and doors a long time ago.

He had two mugs sitting there and waiting. Both with a tea bag waiting for the water. He poured the boiling water into them, when he heard the whisper of her voice in his mind.

[Right here.]

Jon smiled when he heard the sound of heavy things being set back onto the floor. He saved them both the comment about her being the perfect redecorator. Partly because he had not called upon her to help nine out of ten times in their theatre loft. Things she could have accomplished with her telekinesis easily he had done himself. It had earned him puzzled glances by her ever so often. But she too had saved them both the comment.

“We can just talk.” He offered her as he picked up the mugs, a carton of milk and left the kitchen area to where she was. Above them a large window showing the sky of this lovely late afternoon. Jaxon had assured him that the windows acted like mirrors from the outside. He had even added sheeting to prevent infrared cameras from picking up warmth signatures of human bodies.

He walked past a mirror he had hung up just shy of the loft’s entrance. His own reflection was something he was not quite used to again yet. After all this time, he had finally cut off the long strands. Caitlin had been kind enough to help him to a decent haircut while Beth had napped. He wandered what she would have to say about the changed appearance.

Jon did not look at her as he rounded the Spanish wall blocking the sight from the living area onto the sleeping one. There she sat, appearing so serene and quiet even though he knew that inside of her things were slightly off balance. Her powers worried her – as they did about everyone in the theatre – and then there was the small issue of her just not talking about her time as a captive. Jon swallowed at the thought as he sat down her tea cup and proceeded to pour some milk into his tea.

Taking a seat, crosslegged on the small carpet in front of the futon bed they shared, he sat down the cup in front of him and looked up at the woman he still could not fully believe was back in his life. “Hi”, he said, offering her a gentle smile.

[OOC: For the record, he's in simple jeans and a thin grey v-neck sweater]
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12-05-2018, 03:20 PM
[In-Character] [Post #4]
It was still strange to hear him respond, even when she had been hoping for him to do so. She had sought to reach out so many times over the years and all she had ever been capable of was a few mind tricks within her immediate area. Whenever anyone mentioned his name within her vicinity, she managed to wipe all trace of him from their heads, only to slip into a half-conscious state, the strain exhausting.

She set a vase down in the corner, dried flowers back within, and she swallowed uncomfortably. She had never been so out of place and awkward with her abilities, not even when they had first presented themselves. Her telekinesis being born immediately after her telepathy went dormant had even been easier to control than the pair currently was. It had her envisioning Tony and the syringe he had injected her with, wondering if his tampering to give her a measure of access in that place was playing out by overexaggerating now that inhibitors no longer blocked most of her.

The sound of his voice in her ears almost startled her, its volume, its depth, the familiarity that she had tried to utilize to construct it had never been quite right. Just talk. Out in the open. Like normal people. Like once before. She had used him as a retreat in her mind, had only ever spoken to him there when she wanted to be away, that doing so in the open was still an adjustment.

“Sorry.” She replied quietly.

The scent of dark tea hit her and she perked up where she sat. His steps muted, but present enough o indicate his movements, then they were making their way towards her and she considered running a hand through her hair. The effort would prove somewhat pointless when she was probably going to be back under in a few hours anyway. It was like her body was trying to make up for all the time she had spent awake over the last half decade.

When he rounded the corner, she stared at him, immediately cataloguing the changes in his appearance. The shorter locks, the beard barely-if at all-present, his clothing better put together even in its simplicity.

He set her cup down on the table beside her, and then instead of taking a place on the bed with her, he folded himself onto the floor to her side of the bed. She turned to face him as though magnetized to follow his motions. When he looked up at her, he offered a warm smile, a simple greeting, and it chased the faintest trace of smirk onto her features to reply.

“Hi.” She whispered. [What have you-] she cleared her throat then, glancing at her teacup before she tried again. “What have you been up to while I’ve been sleeping?” She had missed at least a few hours, she was conscious enough of the pastel hues in the sky and the fair few stars trying to wink into being.

She focused on the cup and beckoned to it with her thoughts, and it thankfully complied without a hitch, settling gently into her gathered palms. “I can see that you’ve had a makeover.” The longer hair had been intriguing, though she had assumed it had been out of lack of motivation to shear it rather than trying to make a fashion statement. “I must commend your stylist.”
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[In-Character] [Post #5]
A wide toothy smile. Apparently, Jon was still capable of it. And how could he not? He looked up into lavender eyes, once more catching himself at counting his blessings. To have her back … here, in the flash. His brain was slow to fully catch on. It seemed to simultaneously live in the past when they had been together, had gotten married, had eventually shared a life. Then that time when she had been but a figment of his imagination. And now … with her here, and somewhat equally broken into parts.

Her gaze when she had first seen his face just now – after a week of outgrown beard and shoulder-length hair. A little more like his old self, Jon thought. The version of him Beth had met back then. Even the clothes were new. A little bit it was like slipping into an old skin – one that fit in some places, and possibly in others not so much.

Was he still that man? Or should he be wearing the leather apron, the torn jeans and white shirt. Should there be a bottle of brandy somewhere around here? Reflexively, Jon gripped his cup tighter, took a small sip before setting it down. Hearing her voice was like a warm blanket onto frozen bones. And the ice had not fully receded yet.

Beth commented on his shorter hair, and he nodded. “Caitlin was so kind.” He ran a hand through the strands that were longer than they had been five years ago, but much shorter than they had been only this morning. He nodded, gazing down into his cup before taking another mouthful when she expressed her taking note of his changed attire as well.

He drew his gaze up to her without fully lifting his head. “And I commend yours…”, he said not without a smirk that so much mirrored the small one on her face earlier. He let his eyes roam for a moment. That body so very familiar. Possibly in need of a whole lot of food, but still the one he knew. Then his eyes traced the long line of her legs.

Setting down his cup, Jon reached forward and gently set his hand down on one of her bare feet. He gazed up, as if to make sure she was in the know. Every now and then, an unexpected touch of his would make her flinch. Each time he witnessed it with concern, willing himself to finally find a way to get what had happened to her out of her.

And yet he had not yet – there was always some kind of excuse.

He pulled in a deep breath, then let go of it as he pulled Beth’s foot into his lap gently. Skilled fingers ran down the sole and then started soft circular motions. One of his own legs he kept folded in so her heel rested on the side of his calf. The other he stretched out a little, his knee against her other lower leg.

For a moment, Jon focussed only on her foot, acknowledging the silence around them. No one here. Just the two of them. None of the other residents, none of their worries clouding the room. A bit of alone time, apparently it was hard to come by. Jon knew he was actively seeking these moments with her. He missed having a place to themselves. And yet, all these people around might not be the worst thing for Beth. Or for him – because this way there were more than just his own eyes to register if something was going on.

“Are you hungry?” His thumbs were working their way up towards her toes. “I got some eggs and ham. Possibly cheese?” he offered looking up at her, then let his smile widen as he once more let his gaze drop. “Or chocolate … there’s a whole block on top of the fridge…” He found himself doing these things more often than he had before her captivity. Bringing her things, actively bringing along things she might like. There was a pair of jeans, boots and a top waiting in the closet like she have loved to wear back then. But he had not been able to just give them to her just yet – wondering whether that kind of thing would mean anything to her after … after …

It was hard imagining. Because his mind ran wild with all the things he could imagine…

His eyes found the band on her left finger, so similar to the one he wore and he smiled. He pushed away the daunting ideas any silent night or moment spent alone would inject into his mind. They had survived five years of her captivity. They would survive the aftermath.
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[In-Character] [Post #6]
She tilted her head, almost curiously when he replied to her appraisal. He liked her make over. But all she had done was shower and slept. Her eyes shifted upward towards her brows and she wondered if he were referring to the fact that she had not covered up the natural amethyst of her hair. It was somewhat pointless at the moment, and rather low on her list of things to do. She glanced down at herself, noting the long t-shirt and little else, narrowing her eyes when she looked to meet his gaze.

He set down his tea beside himself and reached forward, almost carefully, and she realized he was doing so for her benefit. She was acutely aware of the concern that pushed across his features whenever he accidently bumped or nudged her and she winced. It wasn’t intentional, and she often felt some wave of guilt over his response, that she had done that to him, made him feel some slip of guilt for touching her. When it was everything that she wanted. It was just…odd. She had spent so much time wrapped in her own telekinesis that [i]touch[/i[ was almost foreign.

And every time that he touched her, her emotions swelled, which in turn caused her abilities to snap.

She held her breath when he wrapped his warm hands around one of her feet and drew it into his lap. Her eyes slid shut at the contact and she could practically purr in response to the depth he pressed his fingers and thumbs.

That he had yet to prod her for answers was both strange and relieving. Being ‘free’ was nearly overwhelming on its own. Most often than not, she could barely keep her eyes open for a couple of hours at a time, and then she would lose her grasp on the world and everything that she wanted to see. Even as she tried to set the little handheld to alarm intervals so she could be awake for simple things like the sunrise or set, midday, midnight, it still seemed so fleeting. She felt like a newborn unable to set its internal clock, and instead was a slave to the throes of wakefulness and fatigue.

It wouldn’t always be that way, surely. It was sort of improving already. At one point she had woken to Amara at the foot of the bed when they were still in one of the lower levels. She was older, as pretty as ever, but her eyes held so much that she had not wanted that girl to have ever had to be witness to. She had told her that she had slept for almost three straight days and had not even registered with Jon had extricated himself from beneath her. They had apparently taken to watching over her while she slept in shifts. She had felt gentle nudges against her dreams, and attributed them to the twins she had discovered.

There was a gentle silence that settled between them when she took a moment to note it, when she withdrew herself from so many of the minds that surrounded them. In that moment there was him, and there was her. And there was no one else in the room. No one to interrupt them for the moment, no one to play the role of buffer. She wondered if he had dreamed of her the way she had retreated into herself to find him. If what Megan had confessed, that she had been gone just over five years, was accurate, a quiet part of her insecurity that yet lingered wondered if he had ever considered moving on, or if he had tried to. Life was a basic thing, that way.

The idea of eggs sounded…actually appetizing. Are you hungry? seemed to be a constant with him. “I…yes.” He hurried ahead then, onto other flavors. “A whole block? What do you do with a whole block of chocolate?” His fingers pressed deeper once more and she let her eyes slide shut to appreciate the sensation. “Cheese and chocolate.” She mused over the combination.

She smiled in the wake of his thoughts, clothing in the closet. Then she immediately sobered when he transitioned and his thoughts darkened. He tried to shove them away and she slipped form the edge of the bed, down onto her knees before him, settling onto her heels. “Lets not think about that right now.” Because she didn’t want to think about that. She liked the careful calm that let her think none of it had ever happened. Cooped up in what was starting to look like a workshop with the man staring back at her, her figure barely dressed, she could imagine that they were back there, so long ago. It didn’t matter that there were more defined lines around his eyes, or that his dimples lingered longer after he smiled, he was still who he was, and she still felt what she felt.

She lifted her hand and set it against the side of his face. When he tipped slightly into it, she felt tears prickle at her eyes. She was still struggling to grasp that he was real, that any of them were real. She had spent so much time in her own head, constructing everyone she cared about that she at first had had issue differentiating the dream from reality. “I’ll wear them later.” She whispered, referencing the clothing he had thought about. Her fingers slid up along the side of his face into his hair to assess the length and the silver, and she smiled. “There was already a mutant called Silverfox, but I think it would suit you better than it ever did her.”
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12-07-2018
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12-07-2018, 09:57 AM
[In-Character] [Post #7]
For so long, part of his brain had lived in its memory. It was an odd sensation to find reason to be present, to be in a moment. But he had nowhere else to be. Not with Beth across from him. So when she slipped off of the bed and onto her knees before him, there was a quip on his mind about her position. Maybe some five, six, or ten years it would have come out, dropping into their teasing banter that had so often been the baseline to their interactions. Always a sly grin on either of them, the other instantly raising to the bait and producing an everlasting thread of energy between them. As a telepath, she had made it easy for him. His mind had no natural resistance – but with Beth he had never felt he had needed it. To her he was content just being an open book. There had never been anything he had felt guilty about, had hesitated in sharing with her.

Why could he not just drop into that familiar pace right now? What kept him back? Was it the question about the extent of torture they had put her through? Or his own shortcomings in those five years.

Beth’s words drew him out of those thought, signalling with gentle strength that she was aware of where his thoughts were headed. He offered her a somewhat tired but nonetheless grateful smile. Another detail he had so painfully missed. That mental connection. His openness with her, allowing his thoughts to just float to the surface for her to pluck and read at her own will, and her reciprocated will to offer him her mind. He had never had this kind of connection with anyone. Not Emma, no any woman in his life.

Well, there was a reason that he had wanted to marry this woman in particular.

So when Beth set her hands against the side of his face, Jon exhaled in a sigh. Her touch was electrifying in the simple way that it was real. Jon closed his eyes, smiling when she plucked the thought of the clothes for her from his mind. “I’d like that”, he said, his eyes shifting to find the tears in the corners of her eyes. He swallowed, sorrow narrowing his eyes for a moment, and brought up a hand so his thumb could carefully catch the added moisture that was just slipping free.

Beth’s hands ran up along his face, all Jon could do was drink up every last bit of the sensation her touch caused. It hit him in a central, so very fundamentally important place – and he realised he felt like a man coming up for air. A place inside of him that had existed in a vacuum for so long was finally part of the world again. His world … so he let his eyes remain closed when her fingers dug into his hair. Then a smile lit up his features, chasing away the sorrow and grief. “Wait, did my wife just call me old …?” And there it was. A sliver of that – a sliver of the past, fluttering in like a pair of tiny silver wings.

“Well you better get used to it”, he continued as he opened his eyes, his grin reminiscent of the younger man he had once been. “You’re married to an old geezer now …” A shrug, a grin. She would just have to deal with it.

And now he felt his own emotions welling up for just a moment. Jon drew in air as he let his eyes roam her face, and then tucked a single loose strand of her hair back behind her ear. “I missed you …” The words simply escaped him, needing to find air, needing to be said even if just to make all of this a little more real. To acknowledge somehow that they had not seen each other in just over five years. So no, it wonder that so many hours of every day he had sat with her. Others had volunteered to watch over Beth sleep, but Jon generally covered most of it.

Seeing her, in the flesh … it was like a small miracle after all this time.
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12-09-2018
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12-09-2018, 02:29 PM
FAST FORWARD [In-Character] [Post #8]
OOC: FF - to this moment here. Emma borrowed Beth's body to go see Scott. Now that Scott has gone to sleep, Beth takes over to help Emma leave the room. It was all very emotional. BIC


Jon woke when he turned and his hand found nothing but empty space next to him. His eyes opened in the darkness, first staring up at the window and the night sky beyond. It was a sight he had quickly grown used to. So different from the past five years when he had spent his sleeping hours in any chair or corner available. Hardly any stars in the sky tonight, and the moon spent more time obscured behind thick layers of clouds than illuminating the loft.

It was window tonight, bouts of rain beating down against the roof window now and then. He exhaled and sat up.

“Beth?” he answered and waited for a moment. When no response came, Jon pushed the blanket back and stood. With the heating shut off at night, he felt the chill instantly. Insulation was an issue with this place, he decided as he pulled the long-sleeved shift he had worn earlier from the chair beside the bed. He donned it, leaving the bedroom area.

Part of him wondered whether she had simply gotten up to find herself a different place to sleep. Her shying back from human touch worried him. She had explained it, had laid out how she had used her telekinesis for all this time to keep her captors away from her. Part of him felt relieved to know they had not managed to completely incapacitate his wife – another part of him wondered how strange it would have to be after all this time to finally let anyone near again. He sighed, there was so much to work through and they both were somehow tiptoeing around it.

Jon had his troubles just putting things on the table and Beth never pushed. Why could she not just yank these things right out of his head? That was how they had worked, why they had worked. The things he just found tricky to put forth she could find herself. He had never barred his mind against her. What was in there was for her to see, to know. Jon had been aware what it meant to marry a telepath of her skill level. And he had been content with simply being an open book for her – Beth had always returned the favour.

So this strange situation where they both seemed to be staying on the sidelines, it gave him more trouble than he had admitted to himself. It was painful. And it worried him – had they lost their edge?

[Beth?]
He tried again, knowing the mental call would reach much farther than his vocal one.
[Are you okay?]

Could he hide the small disharmonic edge to his voice that gave him away? Her disappearing just like this suddenly brought forth a whole new set of feelings. What with watching over her in one way or another constantly for the weeks since her return he had never considered that maybe he did have a number of issues of his own to deal with.

He put the water kettle on. Tea. Out of reflex he took down two cups.
A sneer, in spite of himself. Jon walked to the end of the counter separating the kitchen from the living area. Everything was bathed in the indirect hue of vanishing and returning moon light from outside. Only a small LED light in the kitchen now provided illumination. He pulled open the last drawer and fished a small phone-sized device from it. Powering it up, it held the access points to the security systems. Instead of accessing them, he hit a button in the top left corner.

Jaxon’s name appeared on the display. Eventually, the other man answered. “Forge.”
“Umm Jax … is Beth… Elisabeth. Is she in the theatre?”
“Give me a moment.” Jax went silent, the entire line seemed to be on hold for the next ten seconds. Then his voice returned. “I have her present. On the first level. She … is leaving the room assigned to … Scott Summers.”
Jon answered with silence. Wondering how that came to be – Beth leaving Scott’s room at … he checked his watch … 3.30 AM in the morning. The kettle started its lazy whistle. The water was boiling.

“Is this all?” Jaxon’s voice chimed up again.
“Umm…” Jon had almost forgotten about him. “Yes, thank you! Sorry for disturbing you. Good night.”
“Not a problem.” The line went dead.

Jon turned off the stove, and poured two cups of tea after dumping the teabags into the mugs. As the moments ticked by and he stared into the darkening liquid of the cups, Jon wondered what had brought her there. Or had it even been her? She did have that guest in her head that certainly would explain what she was doing in that room at any time of the day.
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[In-Character] [Post #9]
The exchange was a sticky one. Emma didn’t want to go, but that was why she finally relinquished the hold she had been allotted, because she couldn’t do it herself. So when Beth resumed control of herself, and she felt Emma disperse into the wide expanse of her mind, she untangled herself from Scott and took a moment just to watch him. Watched his chest expand to breath in, then collapse to breathe out. She had done it so often in the dead of night with Jon when the odd nature of the hours her mind allowed her to be awake while he slept.

She wasn’t sure if she could name the reasoning that she felt behind it, just…watching. She thought it had to do with her mind still struggling to grasp the fact that these people were real. It had been weeks, and yet, they remained. Unlike any other moment she had conjured them in her head to escape. They didn’t shimmer, they didn’t change, they didn’t morph into other people. They held their shapes, their voices, their personalities. Just as they had been before. The world had just taken them along through the slip of time.

The tears that escaped the corners of her eyes, she wasn’t sure if they were hers, or Emma’s. Or in some way, both.

Turning away from the slumbering individual was almost difficult because it gave her a moment alone, and she wasn’t sure if she appreciated the sensation. Even when she had slept so long upon initially being brought to the theater, she could still [i]feel[/i[ them around her, even as her brain worked at allowing her to completely shut down. It was like being a spider in the center of a web and each and every individual in that building was attached to a silken strand.

When she moved towards the stairwell that would eventually take her as high as the building would allow, she caught her reflection in one of the windows and stared for a moment. She couldn’t recall when the last time her hair had been so purple. She had been young then, more of a teenager before she had taken to hiding it away. All to appease her peers. Her focus shifted beyond herself to the dark sky outside, the intermittent twinkling stars scattered between dark clouds smattering shifts of drizzling rain against the glass. The sound of it was so simple, and she wanted to lock it away inside of herself. She had never before realized how much she could covet a sound.

Jonathan brushed up against her mind, curiosity and a hint of worry and she made herself return to the task of climbing the stairs. There was so much more glass cut and puzzled into the ceiling there. Just like Emma in pieces in her head, in her body, in the fingerprints left across Scott’s mind.

A weight within her chest twisted and she exhaled audibly as she leaned against the railing on the uppermost landing. It was painful, something that her blended abilities under human thumbs had allowed her to avoid. Emotion. She felt herself shift into it still, when she felt it threatening to swallow her whole. Her wonder, her fear, her joy, her pain. It all wanted out, it all wanted to wrap about her throat like a noose and she struggle to stamp it back down.

It was love that left her breathless, Emma’s washed across her mind in the wake of her presence, even as it faded into the quiet place she always sought, throwing up her walls that would have been easy to buckle. The other woman was allowed her privacy, something Beth would never seek to breach. She knew all to well what it was like to struggle to keep her thoughts out of another’s reach.

Her breath shivered as it left her, as she made herself stand upward. Her heartbeat quickened and her vision blurred behind another set of tears itching to leave her. She pushed the door to the loft open and she let her mind expand, let it sweep across Jon’s before she sought to mesh herself with him.

Tea, it tickled her senses, but her focus was on the mutant staring into the depths of a pair of teacups hoping they would speak the secrets of the universe. Her footsteps took her to him the way a magnet drew its other half and when he turned to look at her, his lips and tongue poised to inquire about her absence, she slid her hands about the side of his face and stepped herself right into kissing him. She didn’t seek an innocent brush, she immediately trailed the tip of her tongue along the line between his lips, pushing forward further when he split them. Every time either of them had attempted to initiate such until that point, it had been hesitant, a light sweep, a gentle brush, hesitance.

Emma wanted to be with someone so desperately, and she had had reins enough to have taken tiny bites of the opportunity, yet she had kept herself back. Were their places reversed, she wondered if she would have managed to keep herself that well form the man she was seeking to devour. She hadn’t even realized she had been moving further until he bumped back against the counter and she snapped herself out of the haze. She felt further tear slip free even as she drew herself back enough to look up at him. “I can’t keep not being with you.” She explained. “I don’t care how we got to this weird place, but I can’t keep doing it.” He was hers, and she was his.
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12-09-2018
11:39 PM
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Name: Chrissie (F)
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12-09-2018, 11:39 PM
[In-Character] [Post #10]
That guest in her head.

Jon inhaled. Emma had been in her head before. She had been instrumental in removing Farouk. The idea to have the woman a permanent resident, however, caused a rather queasy sensation in the pit of his stomach. He had had enough of his wife with a resident in her mind. Especially now. They did not have the proper hope, strength and energy behind them to survive that kind of intervention.

He felt himself exhale with a shiver. Did she even know how worried he was that they would not come out on top? Jon wanted his wife back. Plain and simple. He needed a chance, needed a moment to just wing it. That was when he felt her. Relief swept through him, and he lifted his head, slowly turning around.

For some reason, her image – there, in front of him, coming for him – burned itself into his mind. The clouds had withdrawn for the moment, and the moon that was almost full cast its light into their loft. Her hair was a shade of vibrant purple that so intensely mirrored the colour of her eyes that it made him pause. Was it bad that he loved that shade of purple? To him it embodied the sensation of love. He knew why she coloured her hair. He knew why she hid this shade. And yet, the little he had ever seen of it, made this moment that much more real … that much more her.

[Beth…]

The questions were on his mind. The why’s and the what for’s and the how’s … but as her lips found his he knew they were unnecessary. Jon felt the shiver race through him as her mouth demanded his response. And he gave it; oh did he give it. His arms came forward, around her, and his hands settled over the small of her back. Hands bunched the fabric of her shirt, pushing it up slightly. It was like a spark that had leaped from her to him – physically, mentally, it didn’t matter – and he gladly accepted it.

It was so much that non-verbal mutual understanding they had had seemingly since day one. Jon realised how much he had missed it.

The hand to the side of his face made him tilt his head. He yearned for this. For her. For whatever should be connecting them. Jon realised how hesitant he had been with her, how easily he had allowed her hesitation to keep him at a distance. But was it not that needed him close when five years of captivity had rid her of any basic form of human touch? Was he not the one to supply what she needed?

Another shiver rippled through him.

It was like the ground beneath him moved and he was pulled along with the wave that picked up the both of them.

Jon felt himself suddenly move a barrier behind him. He had just moved with her, unaware of their surroundings. His eyes flew open and he found her eyes. Lavender depths pleading him to listen, and to act.

Did she even know how he was willing to do just about anything she needed him to? Had he not always been that man for her? Jon exhaled with a shiver, caught in this moment with her even if he not yet understood what had brought it on. Her words shook him. Touched a place deep down he had locked away when she had been taken. Jon exhaled, and his right hand found the side of her face. He found the tear that had escaped and he wiped it away. His face mirrored her pained expression when he realised her cheeks were tear-stained.

He lifted her, easily so, and brought her smaller form up to sit on the counter across from them. His arms wrapped around her for a moment as he just drew himself closer to her. “You left me five years ago”, of course she had not left him. But his mind had made him that way. “Stop not being in my head.” God, was he fumbling? Rambling? “You’ve been gone for too long …”

Of course she would find things in there she would not agree with. Jon was ready to share every last one. Because beyond all the questionable decisions she would find it there, she would find a single and very defined truth. Without her he was not the man he wanted to be.

“I missed you”, he pushed out as he stood tall, one hand reaching for her face again and the other settling against her hip. Gently, he pulled her forward. “I thought you were dead”, and he did nothing to hide the shiver the idea dragged across him. His mouth once more found her lips and he renewed her kiss, picking up exactly where she had left off.

“I thought I’d lost you…” Jon caught himself saying as he stopped himself. He looked up, the second hand finding her face as he worked her hair out of her eyes. “Are you okay?” Something had happened, and he did not know what. All of this was overwhelming and he hated how their telepathic rapport was back to infantile stages.
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