bakerstreet | screwing your cranium since 1995

The Mindfuck Meme

This is not a very nice meme! Many if not all options are potentially triggering. Please use your best judgment before participating.

1. Comment with your character, putting their name, canon, and any prefs in the subject line (e.g. women only, not #4, AU, aged up, etc.). **Please note that this meme is open to both sexual and platonic content. You may wish to list non-sexual rp as one of your prefs.**
2. When other characters tag in, they'll use this handy RNG (1-15) to pick an option from the list below.
3. Have fun, fuck minds, ???, profit.

Options:

1. I Own You: You know—beyond a shadow of a doubt—that you own this person. Furthermore, you're more than willing to break them down until they accept it as truth. All that they are—mind, body, and soul—is yours. They should have known that from the beginning. Now they'll know it 'til the end.

2. We're One and the Same: You're two sides of the same coin. You practically own each other! No one else will ever complete them the way you can. You're twins. Brothers from another mother (or was that the same mother?). They won't get away—they shouldn't even desire to. Good thing you're ready to help.

3. Nobody Has Ever Loved You (Like I Do): The person before you clearly doesn't understand how worthless they are; everyone they've ever loved will and should leave them to rot. The only thing they have left—the one creature that doesn't despise them utterly—is you. They should probably start groveling at your feet for such patience and mercy.

4. By Your Bedside: You love them. You love them utterly, and just look at the thanks you get. Look how they've betrayed you! Ruthlessly! Talking to others—looking at others. Disgusting. You aren't going to allow it anymore. They need to understand the importance of your love.

5. You're a Doll, Doll: Some people just don't get it. They think they have basic human rights the same as anyone else! They don't view themselves as puppets or pets to be played with. They don't understand that they belong on a leash or sitting pretty on a shelf. Poor darlings! Lucky for them you've taken an interest in setting them straight.

6. Stop Forcing My Hand: It's not your fault you're tying them down! It isn't your fault they need to be disciplined! They making you. They stared at you with those eyes! They asked how you wanted your coffee! You wish they could apologize enough for such atrocities. You'd love to let them go. You don't want to do this. You're the real victim here.

7. Kiss Me and Smile at Me: Time for a little mindcontrol up in here! With this prompt, the other person is completely under your control. Tell them to jump, they jump. Tell them to beg—oh. There will be begging. Unfortunately, the effect isn't always complete and sometimes your target knows they're being toyed with. Too fucking bad.

8. Such a Child: If this kid doesn't want to listen and do as they're told, it's high time you start treating them like the little brat they are. Up to you how far this goes, although spanking isn't a bad start. And who cares if they're actually younger or technically older—they need to learn to listen when adults are speaking.

9. A Permanent Stain: All right. All right. You'll be fine as long as you leave this mark on them. Maybe a couple (hundred) bruises will do, or perhaps a tattoo is more your style. A piercing? Sure! Or five. Whatever—all you know is you need something physical to show your connection. Stake your claim and stake it hard.

10. Escape Cockblocker: You've got containing your target down to an art form. You know all their weaknesses and exactly what shackles fit them best. You can keep their powers at bay and break their spirit (or profess your adoration!) at your leisure. Your expertise in keeping the other right where you want them is absolute.

11. BRUTALITY K.O.: It's easy to be dark and brooding. It's simple to concoct a sinister scheme or two. Violence, however, helps drive a point home with bruising finesse. All it takes is a little brainwashing between punches and voila! You've got your message across. They'll learn to love you for it in no time at all.

12. Feeling Superior: This one is all about rank. Either you're sick of chilling on the lowest rung, or you've always had the upper-hand. Doesn't matter; you're in charge now. Call it a promotion, if you will. Call it learning to excel.

13. Semi-Genderbender: You've always thought of the person before you as a distinctly different gender. It doesn't matter how they identify, you've clearly got the right idea about this. So, you might as well start pushing it. Dresses, manly trousers—pronoun-fuckery all up in here. What about scheduling them for a few… 'enhancing' surgical procedures?

14. You Don't See Me: Sensory deprivation, anyone? This is pretty standard stuff. Take away their voice, take away their eyes— take away sound or taste or touch. Use magic, use devices, use whatever comes to mind. After all, they didn't really need all five senses. That's just greedy! Four—three at most and they'll be sitting pretty under your 'unique' care.

15. Creepozoid's Choice!: Pick any of the options above or a 15th of your own devising. Remember, 15 is always an open option if you'd rather not roll, or if you're looking for a mixture of options.

Originally posted on

memekingdom, heavily edited here for clarity's sake.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

(deleted comment)

Eliot didn't know what Moreau wanted besides that the man summoned for him. He carried a burn phone on him that was specifically for that reason, and when it rang, he answered.

It was part of the deal he had going on with international financier. Moreau provided for him in everything Eliot would want, and Eliot did things for him, no questions asked. At least, that was how it was at first. Eventually Moreau came to recognize the value that Eliot Spencer really was and they became... not quite friends, but a bit closer than regular employer and enforcer.

Eliot didn't do the dirty jobs as much anymore, there were enough people in Moreau's organization to cover that, and he took on things that was more suitable to his specific skill level. Which was why when he walked into the room, he was surprised to see a man tied to a chair in the middle of it.

An interrogation?

Approaching from behind the man, he didn't see who was the unfortunate fool who pissed off Moreau. "Damien," he addressed, coming up to his cultured boss before he finally turned around and locked eyes with...

Billy Collins. CIA operative, last heard... what was he doing in Italy?

Eliot remembered the man from his military days. They ran into each other a few times when their paths crossed, Eliot might even owe him once or twice, not that he didn't save his life enough to have returned the favor. He was a friend, or as close to one as he could get while in black ops. It was definitely more than what he had going on with the crime boss right now.

He turned his head slightly towards Moreau without taking his eyes off the tied CIA operative. His arms crossed. Finally, he flickered his gaze from Billy to Damien. "What's this?"

Billy tried not to make a visible response to the familiar face. He yanked at his chains again, a cover struggle, as he managed to wrench his thumb just that bit further out of socket. Handcuffs. He could do this. The biting metal was unforgiving but provided a rigid and unchanging lock on his wrists he could work with. Not like the raw friction rub of ropes that pulled tighter with any struggle attempts.

The brief lock of eyes lost some of his carefully constructed image, but he quickly threw it back up, not giving away that they had know each other prior to this. He jolted the chair, knocking it a few centimeters forward, and deliberately kept his eyes focused on Damien Moreau.

No need to give the man any further reasons or advantages to use against him. If he thought Billy was going to give up his team, he was out of luck. Billy would die before he would ever give his friends, his trusted teammates over.

His second best weapon had been stripped from him. His voice. So to pass the time he thought of the funniest thing he could imagine and began laughing threw his gag. He was already made for an agent. might as well keep himself amused while he could.

Eliot exhaled noisily at the fine mess he found himself in. An interrogation with his special skill set was no joking matter. That Moreau thought they would need it without even having touched Billy yet meant they already knew what they were facing against, so the whole operative angle was made. This was just getting better and better.

"Unique?" He unfolded himself from where he had stopped and started circling the chair that Billy was cuffed to. He barely glanced up at Moreau as he talked, but focused his attention on Billy instead. "How? Who is he?" He didn't even raise to the bait on the matter of his skills.

When he paused behind the CIA's chair, he gave it a hard kick in the back but kept him in place by yanking on the back of the bandanna gag. This was going to get rough, Billy, be prepared for that. Then in an abrading pull, he tugged the thing free and let it fall down to the ground. "Who're you?"

He wanted to know at the minimum what Moreau knew and Billy gave before starting in this. He didn't give a shit about many people anymore, but there were a few that he still held some care for. This

Billy was prepared. Prepared. The grim realities of what being caught meant were something that every operative had drilled into their skull. The CHAOS operatives? They lived this danger. They went where no one else dared to go. Where no one was foolish enough to attempt, but where they were Needed.

Normally, right about now he would be playing the babbling, frightened rookie,. Or more likely wise talking and joking his way in and out of corners until the others came for him. It didn't matter. Damien had seen through that. He had pinned Billy for what he was before he had his muscle take the Charmer down. He had not even tried questioning him. Billy had been trussed up and gagged before he could get more than a few kicks in.

To say this situation was a bad one would be an understatement.

He fixed Damien Moreau with the same blank stare he had been holding before Eliot arrived, not moving a muscle. Not acknowledging the hitter in the slightest. When he spoke, it was directly to Moreau.

"Patrick O'Reilly. Leprechaun extraordinaire." He did not even crack the barest of trademark grins. Yes. This was going to be rough. But even in lies there was truth, and he could not risk Damien figuring anything out. He could only hope the rest of the Chaos crew found him soon. Hope, but not count on it. They were all as crazy as he was, but even so- This situation was grim.

But the name was an old code. A code he hoped Eliot would catch onto. Yes. This was going to be rough. Billy could handle it. Would. Whatever Eliot threw at him, he would take it.

Billy really had no idea how bad this was if he thought slipping a mutually understood codeword was a good idea. The operative might have thought he knew Eliot Spencer once, but the man with the flag in his heart was no longer the same one who worked for Damien Moreau. Eliot might want to still care, but there were things that Eliot would now do that he wouldn't have in the past, people he wouldn't hesitate to kill, or tortures he wasn't afraid of dishing out.

The only thing that was saving Billy from any of that was the hitter's desire to keep a good memory alive.

Circling around to block Billy's visual contact with Damien, Eliot commanded the CIA operative to look up at him instead, to meet the deadness in his stare and know to not expect what Eliot couldn't offer. He started by giving Billy a hard slap across the face.

"You speak to me, 'Leprechaun'. Who. Are. You?"

screwing your cranium since 1995

What a complicated situation

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject