bakerstreet | Forced Telepathic Bond Meme: I'm With Stupid

Forced Telepathic Bond Meme: I'm With Stupid

Telepathy. The ability to hear the thoughts of others and pry into other minds. Suddenly, you have it. Or maybe you always had it.

And now you're connected, for better or worse, to another person, for who knows how long. You can feel their thoughts and, more alarmingly, they can hear yours. You share dreams, you can feel them there constantly, you their joy and their grief.

INSTRUCTIONS;

1.] Post with your character name, canon, and any preferences you may have.

2.] Try not to leave just a blank comment. Maybe write a little scenario about what your character is thinking or feeling, something their partner can pick up.

3.] Whoever tags you now shares a telepathic bond with your character.

4.] When tagging, you may roll 1-5 Extent and for How on the RNG if needed.

EXTENT OF TELEPATHY;

1. Sudden Onset Limited. It's a bond limited to exclusively you and your partner.

2. Sudden Onset Unlimited. You and/or your partner can hear the thoughts of others, but it's largely uncontrollable. And you retain a special bond with your partner that you can't block off.

3.] Experienced Limited. You've had your bond for a little while now, and have some experience with controlling it. Limited between you and partner.

4.] Experienced Unlimited w/o Partner. You've had telepathy for a while, but having a bond with your partner is new and confusing.

5.] Experienced Unlimited Partners You and your partner are pretty used to this, and either you, or both of you, can use telepathy on other people.

HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?

1. Genetic. Baby, you were born this way. Maybe you didn't know it because it was a recessive trait and only appeared at a certain age. Maybe it's a mutation. Your partner shares this genetic trait and, by proximity, you've been bonded.

2. Government. Generic "The government is responsible!" Either you consented or you did not, but you've been partnered by an act of your government... or someone else's.

3. Experiment. You started trying to just bend spoons and... whoops! It was an experiment. Either you planned it or an enemy/evil scientist is responsible!

4. Through Strife/Friendship. You got really close, whether by sharing a hardship/trauma or just being together and getting on.

5. Really Intense Sex. Smut option. Guess it was so mind-blowing that you literally connected minds.

idea from

guiltapalooza
meme by

terrabelle

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

[He knew Silva wouldn't make things easy. He already feels like he knows him better than he should. The telepathic link isn't exactly helping with that either.

But there he goes thinking questions and not voicing them which totally throws James off his current train of thought.]

Only one way to find out. [He moves himself away from the prison, finally, and heads over towards the frosted exit, knocking for one of the guards. The man who enters is curious but formal, and possibly slightly bemused by the double-oh summoning him in and staring silently. After a lengthy and somewhat awkward minute, James sends him off again with a muttered apology, then turns to Silva once their alone again.]

Anything?

[A sigh, sitting himself crosslegged on the floor of his pen.] Just us, then, hm. Well, it was worth a try. No getting into madame mother's head, sadly.

[He would have thought that one but figured he might as well just say it intentionally. And while James was poking about, cautiously prodding before, Silva's stalking around the agent's mind and trying the same. He doesn't think he's going to find anything he needs, certainly, but one can't blame him for being curious.] What do you suppose you'll tell her? Nothing at all?

[There's definitely something he can feel, an unwanted intrusion in his mind, the tickle and scrape of something that he can't quite put his finger on. He pauses in the middle of the room, hands in pockets, as he furrows his brows thoughtfully. There's little of value in there that Silva wouldn't already know, he considers, and any memories he doesn't want were locked away long ago that even he struggles to recall. James' mind, on the surface, is quite a simple thing, full of nothing but current plans and knowledge that only applies to the situation at hand. He's actually quite a pro and compartmentalising is something he appears to do quite naturally.]

Hn. She won't believe this. I still don't believe this. [He doesn't particularly want it, either.] Doesn't matter, anyway, you'll be gone in a few hours and we won't have to worry about it. [That's assuming this only works close range...]

Are you certain about that, James? [I'm here to stay, at least for now. Even death couldn't get rid of me. What does that say of your chances?

Well, even if there's not much to get from Bond that he doesn't already know, he can still play around with this newfound...ability, is it? He can already send images, thoughts, feelings across this connection, unwittingly. Or deliberately. He does wonder...]

Will you stay a while, perhaps, to feel this out? It's quite the opportunity, after all, and you want to dig out what you think I have hidden up my sleeves, if anything at all.

[Shit.

What if this is something more than a close proximity thing? What if he'll be able to hear Silva the other side of the world?

Maybe... maybe it might be best if he could hint at getting his company killed off instead of put into high security prison. Surely M wouldn't be adverse to the idea, so long as it can be suggested in the right manner.

Actually. He should really stop thinking about this sort of thing while Silva can read virtually every fucking thought he's having.

Piss off.]

Do you have anything hidden up your sleeves?

Oof, I don't think we do executions in this country anymore, James! As for my sleeves, you could come in here and check them yourself~

[Or he could come in and something else entirely could happen. He can't help a little innuendo, but it gives him an idea of a couple of buttons to push. Something to try.

Sex, after all, is a familiar subject to the both of them. Why not give it a try? Silva digs up the memory of sensations, the idea of bodies rutting against each other, the phantom touch of hot breath and slick flesh and all of that pleasure to mindlessly push through. He keeps his eyes locked on James, calm on the surface but oh so curious to see if the experiment has an impact.]

[Trust Silva to think of the most inappropriate use for this sort of thing.

But that's... that's actually very good stuff. Erotic and very real. More like a recalled sensation than some made up thought. James can almost feel it, or at least remember how it felt. Which is odd because it's not even his memory.

Thankfully he's got enough self-discipline to keep it in his pants (for now), huffing out a sigh that covers for any stutter of breath, while forcing himself to lock eyes with the other.]

I'm not coming anywhere, Mr. Silva. [He can do innuendo too. It'll hopefully distract from the fact that he's still trying to wrestle his mind to think of anything else that isn't sex related. But once the mind is on sex, it's a vicious circle trying to not think on it.]

[We'll see.

The bodies tend to be faceless, just curved hips, bouncing breasts, tight asses, twitching dicks--men or women, it's never really mattered to Silva before, no reason to start now. But specifics filter through. Severine, for example. Oh, James should be most familiar with her frame, shared between lovers, at least for a night. Hitching breaths and shaking frames.

We agents, so notorious for our killing and our bedroom skills. Who knew they'd go hand in hand so well?]

[It's impossible not to have his chest heave a little faster and his eyes gain that tell-tale hunger, but Bond is quick to move, closing in on the cell and twisting away to rest his back against the clear surface. With arms folded, he can quite casually lean, not having to look or face his company and avoiding too much further visuals beyond these mental images.

Hn, if you're looking for some in return, I'm afraid I don't kiss and tell.

James seems eager to try clearing his mind again, breathing deep as he slips his eyes shut. It might work rather beautifully, were it not for the distraction of a fine ass or particularly good set of breasts that throw him off, just enough to have him straight back to the thoughts of sex again.

Pack it in. As threatening as he can make his own thoughts sound.]

[Just us in here, James. No need to be so shy. Why, if we can keep this secret from her, think of what else we could get up to without her ever knowing.

It's a delightful image, the one right in front of him rather than any in his head. Turn around. Are you afraid to let me see you?]

[But doesn't he want to see dat ass pressed against the cell? All while James lowers his head just slightly and grits his teeth. It's tough to focus on anything with lingering thoughts like this, but hell, he soon manages a smug little thought.

Keep talking, it's a great turn off.]

[Fine then. No talking. Or 'talking', really. Thinking in coherent sentences. He doesn't even think of sex...well, not really. Thinks of touching James, from his perspective. Fingers across the skin of his chest, up his neck, light caresses. Show Bond his body, his face, his attempt to keep from reacting.]

[He can't help but smirk at the visuals, at the ridiculousness of it all. Seeing himself in a scenario so fresh in his memory seen from the other side. At least he didn't do too badly at refusing to react, could have been much worse...

But he's told Silva to stop and it hasn't happened, and for that there must be consequences. His own thoughts fog somewhat, merging into the blurred visuals of himself sat on a chair, much like the one Silva was thinking of. But the recollection is dark. Unclear. There's the hazy vision of James looking down at his own body, naked and sweating, but the visuals aren't the focus, because seconds later there's a flash of searing pain and nothing else matters. Pure agony tears through the whole thought and even though it's simply a memory, Bond can't help but huff his displeasure at having to dig it up.]

[It's disorienting, now that Silva's on the other side, memories forced onto him. And the pain is sudden and astoundingly sharp. Silva slams a fist on the barrier, gritting his teeth, a slow inhale. He remembers reading about this in Bond's files. His own little torture. The memory is quite powerful and sharp, and he tries to let it disperse, diffuse.

Is that the road you want to go down now with me, 007?]

[Bond does his best to clear it away quickly, before more leaks out. Shove it back in it's little draw, lock it away and never think on it again apart from the occasional writhing nightmare, just like so many other things in his brain.]

No. [Said out loud as an assurance.] Consider it a cheap shot in return for you wank material. Some things don't need to be shared.

And here I thought we could have a little fun. I forget that sometimes agents are a little adverse to that. [But fine. Maybe he'll behave himself. For a little while.] How much do you think we might share that shouldn't be? Unintentionally, that is. How dangerous do you think it is, us being in this room?

[A low grunt as he finally turns around (his last memory certainly helped with clearing out any hint of an erection from all of that other stuff).]

And if I leave? What difference do you think that will make. I'll walk into Q branch and inadvertently share far more confidential knowledge than I can block out. [Which actually really sucks, now he comes to think of it. How can he keep secrets with someone else listening in?]

[He laughs.] James, how much do you think I don't know about MI6 and Q Branch? What isn't so wide open to me to see? And now, even your own mind...

Suppose you know it all already, hm? Still, I like to think there's a few things I can keep hidden away up here that those reports and files never mention. [Tapping a finger lightly against his temple.] I think I've got much more to learn from all of this.

And how much about me would you really like to learn? Oh yes, all my little plans, I'm sure, but what else? A little Hong Kong nightlife, perhaps? Glances at my missions of old? Or, no, you don't care about my more personal life, do you, or the man I was. You just want to get to the point of the matter. She's rubbed off on you, I think.

She knows how to get a job done. Can't fault her for that. [In fact, he'll take that as a compliment.]

I want to know your motivation, Mr Silva. What you're really here for. You hide away for almost fifteen years only to get yourself arrested? Mm, no. I think there's more to it.

Edited 2012-12-11 14:24 (UTC)

At least she hasn't raised an idiot child. Although, is it really my motivation you seek? I think she walked out the door and left us here some time ago. [There are wheels in motion, plans of a very long time in the making, but he can't expect the unexpected when the unexpected isn't something that should be able to even happen.]

Did you hear what she would do to me? Have my name stricken from the memorial. That really would be the end of him, wouldn't it? [Mommy didn't tell you who you're up against. She keeps such secrets.] Ay, and that would really be a shame, to let him fade away, no muss, no fuss, as quietly as she intended for fifteen years ago.

[As unexpected goes, this has to come pretty high up there. Unbelievable too. Impossible, even, although apparently possible enough not to be impossible.]

I know the most relevant details, thanks to you. Not much else I really need to know. Your past is insignificant compared to what you are now.

And yet it's the past that made me what I am now. Doesn't that mean anything in this situation? Someday down the road, James, you could be me.

I'll likely be dead before then. [He hopes.]

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