baitings ([personal profile] baitings) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet2014-04-05 06:02 pm

now with 50% less jerky gif

an amnesiac shipping meme

You have no idea who you are.

One day, you just woke up from the darkness, confused and alone. You barely remember your own name, much less why you're here...or where here is, even. Your own body is strange to you, and if you have some kind of power or ability, that must be frightening. Perhaps you're angry at everything so new and different, lost in this strange world you don't understand or know your own place in. Maybe you feel the need to hide away, lest you be crushed by everyone out there who is sure to hurt you.

You are so, so alone.

Only you're not. There is one person, one person who's found you and taken you in. They've shown you kindness, looking after you while you can barely look out for yourself. Out of the goodness of their heart, they've shown you things, taught you things. Most importantly, they're giving you a new sense of identity. And for that, you've begun to appreciate them. More than words can say, actually. You care for them so deeply that your heart hurts around them. Is that normal? What is this feeling? You can't imagine life without them, and leaving them- That's something you could never consider. Is this lov...

The word's on the tip of your tongue, but you can't figure it out, exactly. What you can figure out is that you want to give everything you can to the person who's done so much for them. You want to stay by their side and make them happy. You want to protect them at all costs.

So no one would blame you for getting confused when you see them with someone else or getting angry when you believe they're in danger. And certainly it's only natural for you to get frustrated when you want to tell them what you think of them, what they mean to you, and you can't figure out what to do. Perhaps following instincts will do?

One thing you know is that this bond and these emotions will never go away, not even when you learn who you are.

- This meme is for examining what happens when someone with no memories, potentially someone with powers or skills that could be dangerous at the very least, develops deep feelings for the person who's taken them in or is helping them realize their past. It can be played as awkward, adventurous, tragic, cracky, fluffy, truly romantic, or anything in between. You can play at the beginning, the part where emotions have strongly developed, or even when the amnesiac has regained their memories and must now deal with new feelings.
- Reply with your character and preferences. Mention if you'd like to play the amnesiac, the caretaker/help, or both.
- The role of caretaker does not have to always be beneficial. Maybe they caused this condition in the first place so the other character would be dependent, loving, and loyal towards them.
- Reply to others and play.
biomechatronic: (underlit nerd)

Dr Dennett Norton || RoboCop 2014

[personal profile] biomechatronic 2014-04-06 04:00 am (UTC)(link)
He remembered seeing stars, when the weight hit his head. He remembered seeing stars, because his last thought was 'well, so that expression is actually reasonably accurate' just before the world throbbed once, sucking all color and consciousness back to blackness.

And now, all he could think, as fuzzy, unfocused light began registering on his nearsighted eyes, was that something was heavy was on him, and he started pushing away, feebly, with his hands, unable to focus on whatever it was he was trying to shove.
yourmove: (085)

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-04-06 04:24 am (UTC)(link)
A large black blob would materialize as Norton's eyes opened, slowly resolving from blur to a vague man-shaped shadow.

Alex ignored the doctor's feeble struggling in his arms - even if he'd been a man half his age, he wouldn't have been able to push his way out of his grasp unless Alex let him and with his biometric readings as they were, he wasn't inclined to drop him to the floor. Norton didn't look capable of walking just yet. Alex didn't need to have EMT protocols uploaded to guess at that one.

"Doctor," a voice floated across the blurry light, deep with a strange double-tone. What was probably his rescuer(?)'s head tilted, the only part that was flesh-color instead of SWAT team black. "I'd advise against struggling."
biomechatronic: (illusions of free will)

[personal profile] biomechatronic 2014-04-06 04:38 am (UTC)(link)
He blinked at the word 'doctor', hands moving back to find his own face, righting, almost accidentally, a pair of glasses over his blue eyes. That helped, with part of it, at least. Now he could see, for what good it did him.

His head recoiled, almost snapping back, as the image of the visored face swam into focus. He blinked again, this time puzzled, taking in the black, armored arms around his shoulders, but not making any sense of them, or any of this. "Who are--let me go!"

It may have been ineffectual, but he was going to keep at the struggling. Because whoever this was, they had no right to hold him against his will. He had rights. Somewhere.
yourmove: (045)

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-04-06 09:49 am (UTC)(link)
He thought the clarity provided by the glasses would calm Norton down, not set him off again, Alex looking at him with that red slit where his eyes should be. With Norton's state of mind, it probably wasn't helping his visor was down with the way it threw off any common reference points, man to man, the red blurring, his own reflection warped in the black glass.

"Struggling isn't productive. Please remain calm," Alex observed that Norton's heart-rate had spiked in response. The patch of blood had begun to dry against his gray hair.

He carried Norton down the flight of stairs, following the hall to where there was a bed set up, a chair that was bolted to the floor and the same stainless steel look that could either say modern aesthetics or modern prison. Alex gently placed Norton down on the bed, something whirring as he moved that really shouldn't be whirring if he was a normal man, his back straightening as he loomed. His visor tilted down to glare.

"You're disoriented. Do you require water, food?" It'd be difficult to tell, but this was the closest thing Alex could feel to confusion. He was used to Norton checking up on him, not the other way around, and he was still wondering what the doctor was doing around Brightmoor.
biomechatronic: (stay in school kids)

[personal profile] biomechatronic 2014-04-06 05:38 pm (UTC)(link)
"I am perfectly calm," Dennett protested, "in the circumstances, this is an absolutely reasonable response." He'd always been a reasonable man. Hadn't he?

It seemed like he had, at any rate. And it also seemed, well, a little undignified to be carried like this, however gently.

He did recognize that much, at least, that whoever this was was at least trying to be gentle. And he had no real desire to fall from what was, really, far longer to the ground than he was comfortable with. "No," he said, brows knitting, trying to move off the bed, even as the sudden motion sent a wash of pain throbbing from his head. "I need to know what's going on." Because if anything was unsettling, not knowing any details, any proper nouns for any of this, was it.
yourmove: (073)

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-04-07 06:29 am (UTC)(link)
Alex stood there without fidgeting like a man should: the subtle shifting of his weight from foot to foot was missing, the little tells like his eyes darting to take in Norton's mouth and eyes, the hands that could be crossed over his chest or stuffed into his jean pockets. When Alex went still, he went still.

"You were reported missing 42 hours ago. CCTV placed you as entering Brightmoor at 22:34 and an anonymous tip led me to you at 4:00. You were unresponsive and bleeding from a head injury," Alex rattled off in that methodical way of his, thinking he was being more than helpful. As far as he was concerned, he had filled in as much of the blanks as humanly possible. "I - we're - still trying to find out the rest."

Alex didn't think Dr. Norton was being "perfectly calm" but he didn't have the benefit of neurosuppression, either, so that was to be expected. He'd brought it up to him before. The man had fixed him with a flat stare and changed the subject, his Adam's Apple bobbing as he swallowed. Now Alex stepped forward, holding out his flesh hand in a universal stop right there gesture he thought Norton should understand, disoriented or not.

"What do you remember?"
Edited (typo fix, little addition to post) 2014-04-07 08:36 (UTC)
biomechatronic: (this is my science face)

[personal profile] biomechatronic 2014-04-08 12:47 am (UTC)(link)
"Forty two hours ago." He fixated on the number for a moment. He knew, without thinking, it was almost two days, but he had no idea of anything else, of where he'd gone and why.

He shook his head, not only because nothing was coming to him, but to shake off a growing frustration. Dennett didn't like knowing things. And this seemed so...basic.

The stop hand gesture was so much like the kind of thing one does to a dog that Dennett almost bridled. "I remember getting hit." His hands knotted on his trousers, which he noticed now were wrinkled and stained, one knee throbbing like he'd skinned it.

Whatever had happened, it wasn't within his normal range of activities, he thought.
yourmove: (083)

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-04-08 05:22 am (UTC)(link)
Alex supposed they’d have to start with that. “Do you remember which direction? Any specific sounds to indicate how many assailants?”

CCTV logs hadn’t been helpful – they had problems with Brightmoor in particular regarding CCTV coverage and between shoddy parts and the residents pulling down the cameras quicker than they could be replaced, there’s a rare information void in Alex’s world. It’s not exactly civic minded. Alex’s hand purrs as it rotates away from that “stop” gesture, swiveling more than falling back to his side in a motion that looks both too smooth and somehow just…wrong on some instinctual level.

He made a note that Norton should get cleaned up – shower, new clothes because those he wore were dirty and torn – the doctor outlined in red as Alex studied him. He’d registered earlier that he’d asked who he was. Unclear if it was only disorientation or the memory loss went deeper than Alex suspected.

Unhelpfully, he continued to loom. Norton hadn't programmed the best (read: any) bedside manner in him, Alex so focused on getting to the bottom of this that he hadn't thought that he might be aggravating things.
biomechatronic: (stay in school kids)

[personal profile] biomechatronic 2014-04-09 04:04 am (UTC)(link)
"Assailants? I was attacked?" He was still trying to figure this out. He was a doctor, an old man. He didn't get attacked.

Except apparently he did?

"I don't...I mean, I was driving. Yes. I remember being in my car." Which...what happened to that? He looked around, but of course it wasn't here. This was some sort of hospital room.

The movements of the other person didn't strike him as alien, for some reason. He knew that, they registered as almost normal to him, but he couldn't imagine why cybernetics would seem so familiar, so comfortable in their strange gliding movements.
yourmove: (040)

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-04-09 04:14 am (UTC)(link)
"Which was found several miles away," Alex supplied. "Keys still in the ignition."

Miraculously without the windows smashed in. It was one of those mysteries even an advanced AI with the most cutting edge subroutines couldn't figure out. Probability pointed to his car being boosted overnight; at the very least he should've had the windows broken into and whatever valuables he left in the car stolen.

Alex continued to study Norton through his visor. Mostly he looked like a harmless old man with bad eye sight, the blood crusted in his hair further driving in that impression.

"You described a blow to the head," Alex said, pursuing that detail. "What else?"
biomechatronic: (safe distance this time)

[personal profile] biomechatronic 2014-04-10 02:06 am (UTC)(link)
"Someone drove it, then," Dennett said, his voice distant, as though feeling his way through this. He didn't know why he was there, or even where he was now, but he knew he wasn't the type to leave keys in the ignition.

He didn't know how he felt about that: someone had been in his car, driving it. It felt like a violation. This whole thing did.

He blinked up at the strange shape of black metal, which should have alarmed him, but didn't, considering. But still. "Who are you? Why are you asking all these questions?" And why did Dennett trust him?
yourmove: (098)

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-04-10 04:20 am (UTC)(link)
Alex paused, long enough to look almost like a man's surprise. The corners of his mouth actually twitched.

"I'm Detective Alex Murphy. You're my...handler," he added, after another pause that was an eternity to a machine. The visor finally hissed back to reveal his face, thirty-something and this side of generic that used to make him so good at undercover work. "Not only is what happened to you undergoing DCPD investigation, it's flagged as high-priority by OmniCorp."

In other words, heads would roll no matter who got there first, the police or OmniCorp.
biomechatronic: (You wouldn't guilt trip a guy with glass)

[personal profile] biomechatronic 2014-04-10 08:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Dennett frowns, rubbing one hand over his face, up and down his cheekbones, thinking. The name sounds familiar, but he can't place it. "Detective. You're a police officer?" The police looked...different than he remembered.

And 'handler' didn't sound right either. That sounded like a circus performer. Lions had handlers. But men? "I-I don't think I could handle you in any significant way." Because this Alex Murphy was, well, certainly physically imposing even to men far tougher than Dennett Norton.
yourmove: (020)

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-04-11 08:43 am (UTC)(link)
Alex nodded. "Detroit Police City Police Department. You're responsible for all of this."

He didn't so much as wave at his chassis as hold out a hand, lift it up and down in a way that was somehow both smooth and rigid, and then fold it back to his side. The body, preserving his mind when he proved he couldn't handle his own file. Giving him a second chance. Alex wasn't a subscriber to the You scratch my back, I scratch yours worldview - of if he was, he wasn't anymore - but he did feel a certain level of responsibility toward Norton. It might even be mistaken for loyalty.

"You're scheduled for a more in depth examination later today," Alex went on, eyes flicking across Norton. "You should get some rest in the meantime."
biomechatronic: (illusions of free will)

[personal profile] biomechatronic 2014-04-12 02:24 am (UTC)(link)
"All" He shook his head, running a hand through his hair, wincing as it caught in some dried blood. He held his hand out, looking at it as though he expected more details, before moving both hands cautiously to the side of his head. "If I have a concussion, that's the last thing I should do."

He was not sure how he knew that. If it was even true. But it felt true, like something he'd learned a long time.

Dennett pushed to his feet. "If I'm at a police station, what is this room? Am I under arrest?"
yourmove: (079)

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-04-12 06:15 am (UTC)(link)
"It's part of your lab," Alex answered. In response to Norton popping to his feet, he took a step - one was all he needed - to plant himself closer, in case he needed support. "You have a history of being a workaholic. Sometimes you pulled all-nighters."

Or tried to, anyway. Norton would sometimes take a nap when he could in this room only to be up an hour later, fiddling with lubricant lines, and showing every sign that he should go home already.
biomechatronic: (safe distance this time)

[personal profile] biomechatronic 2014-04-14 04:00 am (UTC)(link)
He looked around. If this was his lab, it should look familiar, right? But it just looked like... a room.

Standing up too fast proved a bit of a mistake, and he found himself unsteady, almost staggering back to the bed, reaching out, almost instinctively, for the other's forearm.

"Show me. Where I worked. What I did."
yourmove: (016)

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-04-15 08:33 am (UTC)(link)
Alex's arm didn't have that give that should've been there, dipping down under another man's weight; in contrast, it was as steady as a piece of furniture, Alex automatically lowering his arm to compensate for Norton's shorter height. "Of course."

He lead the way, taking slower steps than he normally would to give Norton time to find his footing - it was a courtesy he'd never bothered to give during arrests, actually, Alex showing him the shelves lining the corridor outside, the large glass panes that give them a good view of the lab, its cradle. A steel table still lined with spare parts, what looked like a gauntlet with wires still trailing out the stump.

"Your lab," Alex said. "You were working when you suddenly left, no explanation given to your staff."