Chapter 2 - the Storm - 9/20/01
It's always a very strange feeling, at least for me, when I find myself unconsciously
sliding my consciousness into that of another person. But, it is especially confusing to slip
tenderly into the head of a woman (Ha! That alone is baffling by itself!) who's mind encompasses
the atmosphere, all its weather patterns, the clouds the rain the thunder in the distance the
refreshing breeze blowing through - it feels like something akin to a major migraine for the
first few seconds, until your mind gets used to the massive amounts of meteorological data being
fed to your brain.
So, there I was, with a perfectly clear picture of myself. I was a beautiful, confident
woman with chocolate brown skin and silky, white hair that flowed down my neck and splayed
gracefully over my shoulders and back. My body was almost flawlessly toned, from years and
years of physical training and sparring and abuse (Yeah, you try redirecting a tornado or
increasing the humidity of the air around you a thousand-fold with just a thought!) and my
mind and reflexes were near peak human condition from just as many years and years of training,
all of these years easily recallable to me. My eyes were a stunning, ocean blue, except for
the times when I rode the wind or hurled lightning bolts like baseballs or sat in a rainstorm
of my own creation, and then they were as white as the hair on my head or the teeth in my mouth.
As white as the voluptuous, white-leather costume that I sometimes found myself wearing, which
always clung to my body like it had been painted on, showing off every little curve and every
perfect muscle. And, speaking of muscles, what excellent hips I had ...
The thoughts and emotions and memories in this woman, me, Ororo Munroe, were stunning.
As stunning as the fact that she was wearing a blue thong with a black and red X on the waistband
. Like any heterosexual, adolescent boy my body (not the gorgeous African's Goddess's body but
mine, the one with the fading tan and slightly oily skin sitting prone on my bed) reacted before
my thoughts could catch up. The feeling of having my own firm breasts under a flimsy, white,
cashmere sweater was almost too much to handle ...!
But, I managed to get past the details of her physique and enter into her thoughts,
to delve further into the strange memories that ran rampant around her head. I was Ororo Munroe,
I was Storm, the living embodiment of Mother Nature, able to control the elements with less
than a thought, trained in hundreds of different fighting techniques by a man named Logan,
friend to Scott and Jean and student of Professor Charles Xavier and role-model to a beaming
young girl named Jubilee and lover of...No, wait...I lived at Xavier's...And the plot thickens ...
My name was Ororo Munroe, Storm, and I had been across half the universe and back and seen death
and birth and sometimes awoke screaming because of the disgusting things I had seen in my years
as an X-Man. An X-Man ...!!!
Of course, everybody who was anybody (meaning anyone with a television, radio or
computer) knew who the X-Men were: an outlaw band of mutants who were mainstays on America's
Most Wanted while also being rumored to share members with the Avengers and been involved in
many failed Mutant Terrorist attempts. The idea that the X-Men were housed in Xavier's
Institute for Higher Learning (what a front for a bunch of outlaw mutants...) was dazzling
and intriguing and mind-blowing...Ok, off the subject: my family and I had frequented the
little Westchester United Methodist Church for as long as I could remember, but in all my
years I had never offered any sort of a prayer when I hadn't been forced to, but that day I
thanked God, or whatever the Hell was flaunting his cosmic powers up there by creating mutants,
for giving me the ability to uncover secrets that the other kids at school never dreamed of
and being able to look down at myself and see cleavage the likes of which I'd not soon forget...
So, back on track, those few minutes of psychic eves-dropping started me off on an
amazing new hobby - you'd never believe the kinds of things and people and creatures living
in and around that mansion, but you will by the time I'm finished...
*Fin*
*Continued Next Chapter*
It's always a very strange feeling, at least for me, when I find myself unconsciously
sliding my consciousness into that of another person. But, it is especially confusing to slip
tenderly into the head of a woman (Ha! That alone is baffling by itself!) who's mind encompasses
the atmosphere, all its weather patterns, the clouds the rain the thunder in the distance the
refreshing breeze blowing through - it feels like something akin to a major migraine for the
first few seconds, until your mind gets used to the massive amounts of meteorological data being
fed to your brain.
So, there I was, with a perfectly clear picture of myself. I was a beautiful, confident
woman with chocolate brown skin and silky, white hair that flowed down my neck and splayed
gracefully over my shoulders and back. My body was almost flawlessly toned, from years and
years of physical training and sparring and abuse (Yeah, you try redirecting a tornado or
increasing the humidity of the air around you a thousand-fold with just a thought!) and my
mind and reflexes were near peak human condition from just as many years and years of training,
all of these years easily recallable to me. My eyes were a stunning, ocean blue, except for
the times when I rode the wind or hurled lightning bolts like baseballs or sat in a rainstorm
of my own creation, and then they were as white as the hair on my head or the teeth in my mouth.
As white as the voluptuous, white-leather costume that I sometimes found myself wearing, which
always clung to my body like it had been painted on, showing off every little curve and every
perfect muscle. And, speaking of muscles, what excellent hips I had ...
The thoughts and emotions and memories in this woman, me, Ororo Munroe, were stunning.
As stunning as the fact that she was wearing a blue thong with a black and red X on the waistband
. Like any heterosexual, adolescent boy my body (not the gorgeous African's Goddess's body but
mine, the one with the fading tan and slightly oily skin sitting prone on my bed) reacted before
my thoughts could catch up. The feeling of having my own firm breasts under a flimsy, white,
cashmere sweater was almost too much to handle ...!
But, I managed to get past the details of her physique and enter into her thoughts,
to delve further into the strange memories that ran rampant around her head. I was Ororo Munroe,
I was Storm, the living embodiment of Mother Nature, able to control the elements with less
than a thought, trained in hundreds of different fighting techniques by a man named Logan,
friend to Scott and Jean and student of Professor Charles Xavier and role-model to a beaming
young girl named Jubilee and lover of...No, wait...I lived at Xavier's...And the plot thickens ...
My name was Ororo Munroe, Storm, and I had been across half the universe and back and seen death
and birth and sometimes awoke screaming because of the disgusting things I had seen in my years
as an X-Man. An X-Man ...!!!
Of course, everybody who was anybody (meaning anyone with a television, radio or
computer) knew who the X-Men were: an outlaw band of mutants who were mainstays on America's
Most Wanted while also being rumored to share members with the Avengers and been involved in
many failed Mutant Terrorist attempts. The idea that the X-Men were housed in Xavier's
Institute for Higher Learning (what a front for a bunch of outlaw mutants...) was dazzling
and intriguing and mind-blowing...Ok, off the subject: my family and I had frequented the
little Westchester United Methodist Church for as long as I could remember, but in all my
years I had never offered any sort of a prayer when I hadn't been forced to, but that day I
thanked God, or whatever the Hell was flaunting his cosmic powers up there by creating mutants,
for giving me the ability to uncover secrets that the other kids at school never dreamed of
and being able to look down at myself and see cleavage the likes of which I'd not soon forget...
So, back on track, those few minutes of psychic eves-dropping started me off on an
amazing new hobby - you'd never believe the kinds of things and people and creatures living
in and around that mansion, but you will by the time I'm finished...
*Fin*
*Continued Next Chapter*