|
|
Distance was always quick to be mended between them. Lucy had let go, but it was only a matter of moments before Penny was standing in front of her, hands drawing into the ink manipulator's hair, pushing it back on either side of her head. Keeping her eyes, she knew Lucy could see the quick shot of hardness they took on when the Australian let out a curse, especially in celebration of a relatively innocent holiday. At least she had waited for Lincoln to be out of earshot before letting loose.
"Is it now?" Penny questioned with her own brand of light humor. She leaned down, pressing her lips lightly against Lucy's before she sat herself down on the couch next to her.
|
|
|
|
|
|
There were a multitude of words Penny could use to describe their son, but perfect seemed to best fit when she tried to come up with anything else. How such a small child could carry the weight of a title was almost unfair, but he did so with such ease. Just as she so often did, though if Penny were to voice it she knew she'd be met with an argument. Instead, she leaned in as far as she could, given the restrictions of furniture.
But soon she was let go, and her own hands fell naturally to their sides. "Ready?" She questioned, eyebrows snapping upwards with a spark of curiosity, as well as humor. Slow steps brought her around the couch where she could actually be in proper proximity of her wife.
|
|
|
|
|
|
All it took was a little touch to spark movement. Her stomach tightened with the attention - how easily Lucy dropped the controller to turn to her; no matter how many years, it was still overwhelming to witness such devotion. Penny sucked in a short breath, and actually leaned forward to the way she was drawn in. A couch might have been standing between them, but she couldn't deny the request for closeness. Her arms wrapped loosely around the ink manipulators shoulders when she caught her eyes.
"Well," she breathed. Her eyes drew shut as she leaned her head forward, the tip of her nose brushing against Lucy's lightly. Having a child ate up most of her attention throughout the day, and knowing that he was sound asleep safely just down the hallway put her mind at ease. Knowing she was waiting for relaxed her usually stiff muscles.
"He's perfect."
|
|
|
|
|
|
A quiet, small holiday was exactly what Penny could have hoped for. Christmas was a stressful time of year, and it was his first. To throw in a mix of other people from either the other side of the world or the country would have been too much. Although there was something to be said for the love both families carried for their son, Penny was thankful nobody could make it. She hadn't invited them in the first place.
The day eased on with video and phone calls from all sides. Her own mother was disappointed that they couldn't make it West. She could see the desperation in her eyes that she wanted to hold her grandson, even through the screen.
Evening came quick with the short, winter days and at the first yawn Penny went to put him to bed. It took time for him to eventually fall asleep, and the psychometrist refused to leave his side until he was resting soundly. Even after, she lingered for a few minutes just to be sure. Her fingertips brushed lightly along his cheek as the tune she hummed came to an end.
Walking down the hallway, she heard the familiar sound of a video game hit her ears. The familiarity tugged at the corner of her mouth as she made her way into the living room. Behind her Lucy, she pressed both hands down onto her shoulders, pressing her lips against bright red hair.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Penelope Marie Serrano-Blaise
FACE CLAIM: Jenna Coleman♦ THE BASICS ♦
AGE: Twenty-One GENDER: Female ORIENTATION: Homosexual POSITION: Senior Year in a local University
♦ THE ABILITY ♦
POWER: Psychometry
Penelope has the ability to see blurbs of the past through touching objects. She can only see the strongest memories associated with the object, usually resulting in the memory of most the recent person to touch the object, but sometimes very strong and/or intense memories can overpower newer ones. Instead of simply watching from a third party, Penelope actually views the event of the person who was most associated with the object/memory. Often, this happens without her meaning to, but she can also do so at her own will. Her visions can last several minutes, but when she snaps back, it seems that no time has passed since she first made contact with the object.
LIMITATIONS:
She has no control over what a person does, but is just forced to see the event from their perspective. Penelope cannot pick or choose what memories she sees, as her ability is only associated with the memories within objects. If a certain object is associated with several memories, often the strongest or newest is the one she experiences. Her visions only last a few minutes, very rarely even reaching ten minutes.
SIDE-EFFECTS:
It's easy for Penelope to become disoriented after a vision, sometimes forgetting where she is or what time it is. It's common for migraines to occur, especially if she has seen multiple memories within a day, or is trying to concentrate on using her ability. She also has trouble differentiating her own memories from others at times. Because she feels strongly connected to the events, it also causes emotional and psychological distress, the level of intensity varies, but sometimes the psychological and emotional effects can last for days.
♦ THE FREEFORM ♦
I miss the days my mind would just rest quiet. All it had taken was the touch of a book on at the library. Dozens of people - if not more - had read the title, the most recent being an older gentleman. She knew because she saw. Experienced. He had been sitting in his home in the company of an old dog at his feet. The chair next to his had been empty for some years now, but he still wore the wedding band.
It was overwhelming, to experience his memory. Everything was there. The words on the page - the still emptiness of his heart from losing his wife. The feeling of warm fur sitting atop his feet. That particular page had somehow hit home, and he blinked away the water in his eyes.
Suddenly, she was her thirteen-year-old self back in the New York public library, tears running down her own face. When asked what was wrong, she asked about him - the man who had checked out the book. It was apparently enough to know. Recruiters were there the next day.
Oh my blood was once my own, but in one touch you made it yours. "Give me back your hand."
Such a simple request had thrown her, so much that she questioned it. Her fingertips felt cold where they had only just severed a connection with the ink manipulator, where she felt the shift of ink beneath her forearm. It was oddly intimate, and Penelope Blaise hated intimate. More importantly, she hated Lucy Serrano.
Still, she placed her hand in her palm.
It was the first time she had felt ink against her skin. Penelope could honestly say that she had never drawn on herself before, let alone allow someone to do so to her before. Perhaps it was the distraction of it all that made conversation so easy for a few brief moments. Cut too short when she was reminded that she was supposed to hate Lucy Serrano. That she did hate her.
Later, Penelope scrubbed her hand raw, ridding any sign that ink had ever been there, however it never erased the memory of how it felt shifting along her skin.
I've made a mess of what should be a small success. "Pardon?" Penelope Blaise did not take failure well, in part because she knew so little of it, at least on an academic front. She had to have misheard. Her eyebrows shot up when he repeated himself. Unable to graduate from training? Given her shaky relationship with her trainer, she knew it had to be his mistake.
She opened her mouth to argue, but immediately closed it. She was - briefly - speechless. It was no unknown fact that the psychometrist struggled with her ability. There would be days where she would come completely undone, only brought back to reality by the touch of familiar hands and a backwards, but soothing, accent. Yet she was told to embrace her power, rather than find a way to shut it off. That was not something Penelope was willing to open up to. Months of fighting on the subject, and now she stood here being told she would have to do it all over again for another year.
Rather than speak, her lips pursed into a thin, hardened line as she walked out the door.
They know you walk like you're a God, they can't believe I made you weak. It was bound to anger her family - which, as she repeated the words, had suddenly grown massively in size. A small band was placed on her finger, and as she placed it there, the small inked lettering inside of begged to shift, as if to make way for the second ring she now wore on that finger.
Marriage. She wasn't nervous, despite the shake in her hands as they moved to place the band on Lucy's ring finger. It was a relief. Overdue after finally realizing they could make such a big day so simple. All it took was some paperwork, a small set of vows exchanged at city hall, and one witness, who apparently wasn't actually needed.
And it was done. Her fingers intertwined with dark locks as she kissed the Australian - her now wife. Never did Penny believe she would find a love like this - that burned so brightly. Although it was her nickname, the Brit felt she owned the label Lucky.
I have these new fears I carry with me, so you can feel stronger, so you can know peace. Her hair stuck to her forehead with sweat, entire body aching in relief not to feel such intense pain anymore. Skipping out on pain medication wasn't recommended, but Penny was stubborn, even while in labor. Her eyes closed against her own will, exhaustion taking over for a moment before she forced them open again, searching for him. Their son.
It was only a minute or so before he was handed over to her, but after nine months of waiting - and even more time invested in planning before that - another moment was far too long. Sore arms reached out as the tiny bundle was placed within them. Wrapped within the blankets was pure perfection.
She couldn't look away, even as her eyes began to water. All Penny could manage to do was shift him into the nook of one arm, so her other hand could blindly reach for her wife.
♦ THE PLAYER ♦
USERNAME: Sai AGE GROUP: Ancient EXPERIENCE: I've lost track? WHERE DID YOU FIND US? You know.
|
|
|
|
|