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Bobbi Morse ✧ Mockingbird ([personal profile] mocks) wrote in [community profile] senzubean2014-05-23 02:34 am
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Freaky Friday

❝ For some reason or another the universe, or some really wonky magic, has decided that you needed to swap bodies with another person! It could be because of any number of reasons but here you both are and you need to fix it! Freak out, fight, or have freaky/weird sex. Whatever it is that you do make sure to HAVE FUN!! ❞

***


Let's just say it's some mechanical transporter thing gone crazy bananas. One moment, they're just fine, being bros in the mansion or some such. The next, there's a flash of blue lightning and he's her and she's him.

READY SET GO.
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[personal profile] superspeeds 2014-05-23 07:38 am (UTC)(link)
"We can send our respective consciousnesses buzzing around the room like stray insects!" He stood up, stance widening and posture straightening rigidly. As he spoke, Pietro found himself resorting to his customary hand gestures. How foreign they seemed with small, feminine fingers flitting in front of his face. Were her nails painted? Apparently so. He hadn't noticed until just then.

More disturbing than the nails, however, was the fact that Bobbi Morse, using his traitorous body, seemed to be towering over him. She was a tall woman and he hardly noticed the difference in their heights on most days. This was an unusual circumstance, however, and seemed to bring out the anxiety in both of them.

"I refuse to allow you to play with our minds in so reckless a fashion. Do we even know what caused it to activate? Perhaps we should begin with that."
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[personal profile] superspeeds 2014-05-25 05:35 am (UTC)(link)
He didn't notice. In the rush of sensation, the over stimulation that came with abruptly moving at real-time, it was lost.

He did notice the shudder, however, and he frowned although he had the distinct impression that it ended up being more like a pout. Her lips were thicker, felt different. Her features were more delicate, and less imposing. It was irritating. He longed for his own body, his own gestures and expressions. He felt suddenly inarticulate without them, as if half of his language skills had been lost. In all likelihood, they had. He couldn't recall French or German, or Italian, or Transian, or Roma, or any of the languages he knew he knew. Spanish was, however, very readily supplied.

"Well?" He said finally, peering over to see her where she was looking at the machine. "Does it look broken?"