itsameme: (Default)
It's a meme! ([personal profile] itsameme) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet2015-03-02 01:44 pm

Washed up on the Beach Meme

The Washed Up on the Beach meme


The boundlessness and daring unchained nature of the sea captured the attention of writers and historians and adventurers for centuries; it still does! Exploration, conquest, commerce, and luxury all find roots in uncharted waters, be they ocean or large inland sea or freshwater lake and river. Along with those marks of growth come some consequences, born of nature and man: namely, several ways in which you might find yourself…


Washed Up on the Beach
(the meme)


Not quite sure how you got here? There are a few starter options to consider:

1. Shipwreck: Did it go down in a storm? Lose a fight with pirates? Ignore the warnings of a competent lighthouse-keeper (or see no warnings at all due to a competent one)? Whatever the cause, your ship is lost and you survived, somehow. This applies to lakes and rivers, too, which can be just as tempestuous with a bit more potential for settled, "modern" life springing up around them.

2. Vacation Misfortune: Surfing lesson or session gone wrong? Lose your kayak and your paddle? Not quite the island tour/lakeside town fishing expedition/flight across the sea you expected? Jumping from tall seaside cliffs doesn't always have an easy ending, either. Maybe you were caught in a riptide and managed to get through it, but you definitely aren't where you started...

3. Lost at Sea: Can coincide with a shipwreck, but you might also be an intrepid explorer seeking new and uncharted islands, or someone on the run from an overbearing family or one too many failed assignments. Or you just plain can't read a map and work a sextant at the same time, and your compass doesn't point north.

4. Walk the Plank: Of course, for the less ethically inclined there is always piracy in its various forms. A prisoner or a renegade acting for his own benefit can be forced off the ship into the sea and whatever awaits him there; a stowaway or thief aboard could meet a similar fate.

5. Crossing Lines: Speaking of the criminal realm, if you run afoul of the wrong crowd in a port city, or you are the wrong crowd and you screw up one time too many, there's no law in that lawless profession saying they can't truss you up and toss you off the nearest dock. Hopefully you find some benevolent help after that.

6. Too Close to Land: What if the water is your natural home? Drawing too close to the shallows leaves you subject to crashing waves and sandburn, among other things; stay for too long as the tide ebbs, and you might get beached. Weather is probably a factor for you, too, as the hot sun and changing tide leave you dry quickly, or a storm rolling in makes the surf churn and pull.


It doesn't have to be one of these! There are near-countless variations on how and why and with what means one ends up washed up on the beach (unconscious, or drifting in on a makeshift raft, or swimming for shore, or looking for new discoveries - or any combination thereof), all of which include just a bit of suspension of disbelief. Maybe it's tropical and you can enjoy an impromptu vacation; maybe it's frigid and you have hypothermia to consider; maybe you've come to your senses on the 'shore' of a desert oasis. Be bold. Be creative. AU stuff, one person in another's canon stuff, completely unrelated but you think it would be cool to play this out stuff: everything goes.


Setting up your initial post with some kind of scene suggestion and/or your scenario preferences is recommended, but not required.


Tag other people. Become the rescuer, actively seeking to assist after an accident or rumor you heard, or a fellow survivor/explorer, or someone taking their beachcombing find captive (alone or as part of a larger collective), or someone sent to fetch the missing person for straightforward or nefarious purposes. You don't even need to be the person making the discovery! Maybe you're introducing the washed-up victim to life in his or her new environment instead, a walk about town or a lesson in how to do the hard labor required of such vagrants. This isn't an explicitly smut or violence-ish meme but it could happen, so please take note and warn or describe permissions accordingly.


And have fun!
fresh_to_deaf: (Suspicious)

[personal profile] fresh_to_deaf 2015-03-02 09:30 pm (UTC)(link)
((No problem - tell me if there's anything you want me to fix :) ))

The first thing he became aware of was how badly his head hurt. That and the overwhelming smell of sand and salt water, and how dry his mouth was. As he gradually woke up, Djem slowly came to realize where he was - or at least, that he was on a beach of some description. Where the beach was was an entirely different matter.

Gingerly, he sat up, and rubbed the sand from his face. It stretched on for miles on either side, with the exception of a lighthouse about half a mile or so off to the west. Giving himself enough time to fully come-to, eventually he stumbled to his feet, and headed towards it. Best case scenario? There was someone there to tell him where the hell he was.
Edited (sorry, HTML fail!) 2015-03-02 21:31 (UTC)
1stmacleod: (Sorcha happy)

[personal profile] 1stmacleod 2015-03-02 09:42 pm (UTC)(link)
((Looks beautiful! Is he okay with dogs?))

As places to wash up go, it was pretty isolated, but at least the lighthouse appeared to be in decent repair, so it might not be abandoned. Before he even reached it, in fact, someone else found him. Not somebody very useful, but he'd been found, all the same. The grey furry form came bounding around some rocks, stopped still and staring, circled him at a gallop and darted away, then stopped and stared at him again. It was all legs and long nose and curly fur, tongue lolling in a friendly way, and mouth opening once or twice in a playful bark, whether it went heard or not.
fresh_to_deaf: (How about no)

[personal profile] fresh_to_deaf 2015-03-02 10:07 pm (UTC)(link)
((Yep - He's fine with them!))

His legs felt like they hadn't been used for weeks, and the more he walked, the more his head hurt. In fact, he was so concerned with the pounding in his temple, he only noticed the dog once it was right up close, running circles - literally - around his legs. Startled, he stopped in his tracks - though after realizing it was just a dog (and a friendly looking one at that) he managed a small smile as he held his hand out to it, inviting it to say 'hello'.
1stmacleod: (concerned)

[personal profile] 1stmacleod 2015-03-02 10:20 pm (UTC)(link)
Friendly, and big, the deerhound edged closer, sniffing, just a little shy of coming within reach.

Then from around the same rocks came a man, making the same kind of startled pause the dog had moments before. Neither of them had expected to run across anything on the beach but sea life and the odds and ends of wreckage the tide washed in. The man, like the dog, was tallish and a little scruffy, dressed in faded, threadbare clothes. After a few started seconds, the man loped closer, sneakers kicking up sand. The boy didn't have the look of somebody who'd come out here for a casual stroll, and he half expected him to be badly hurt.
fresh_to_deaf: (Default)

[personal profile] fresh_to_deaf 2015-03-02 10:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Once the dog was close, Djem crouched down, petting him gently behind the ears - until he noticed another person approaching from the same direction the dog had come from.

Immediately, he straightened up and stepped away from it, unsure of whether or not he'd be all right with him touching (what he presumed was) his pet. If he lived around here, he'd have information - the only issue would be asking him for it. A hand on his pocket told Djem he no longer had his phone, nor any of his things.

So, to start things off, he gave the man a small, unsure wave at waist height.
1stmacleod: (ho shi---!)

[personal profile] 1stmacleod 2015-03-02 11:01 pm (UTC)(link)
Seeing the man's approach, the dog bounded back to him, then to the boy, ready to circle until they were close enough to be circled together. Clearly a new person on the beach was just somebody new to play with!

If he'd looked ready to fall over or something, Connor was ready to grab at the boy, but once he saw he seemed to be well enough to be alert and greeting the dog, he slowed down and stopped short of touching him. Clothes stiff with salt. Lips cracked. He might not be falling down, but he looked rough. "Are you hurt? How long have you been out here?" His voice cracked from disuse. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing if it went unheard.
fresh_to_deaf: (Irritated)

[personal profile] fresh_to_deaf 2015-03-02 11:14 pm (UTC)(link)
When the stranger began to speak, Djem maybe caught the first word or two, but as it went, his lip reading skills left a lot to be desired. So in response, he could only give him a shrug, though when he went to tap his hearing aids to help speed the 'I can't hear' part of the conversation along, he frowned.

Along with his phone, and his stuff, his hearing aids were also missing.

Great.


With a sigh, he could just pat his ears, and pull an apologetic expression.
1stmacleod: (concerned)

[personal profile] 1stmacleod 2015-03-03 02:08 am (UTC)(link)
Just to complicate matters, what he did catch was a hoarse, raspy kind of voice and a weird accent, but he shut up at the gesturing, looking thoughtful for a moment. Deaf. Well, that complicated matters just a little, but it also meant he wasn't going to nag Connor for conversation, and he couldn't help feeling just a little grateful for that. His gaze roved over the boy again, looking him over more closely for injuries, then the man held one hand flat and mimed holding a pen in the other, as if scribbling over it, his expression questioning.

The dog, meanwhile, waved her plumy tail and looked between them, then darted away to find a driftwood stick.
fresh_to_deaf: (Are you serious?)

[personal profile] fresh_to_deaf 2015-03-03 10:44 am (UTC)(link)
At least he'd gotten across what he needed to - and at least the stranger hadn't decided to just yell at him in reply. It was amazing how often that happened.

Signs like 'Write' were easy enough to remember, and when the stranger mimed the act on his palm, it was close enough to the sign itself. Pushing his hair off of his face for a moment, Djem nodded, despite the throbbing ache that insisted on crackling through his skull like an electric current.

Pointing from the lighthouse to the man with a questioning expression of his own, he hoped it was an obvious enough question; 'Is that yours?'
1stmacleod: (Hey there)

[personal profile] 1stmacleod 2015-03-03 02:17 pm (UTC)(link)
Whether or not he exactly understood the unspoken question was hard to say, but the man gave a nod, slightly relieved. There was paper and pen back at the lighthouse, so that would make things easier. Now he just hoped the kid was up to the walk back there. Still concerned, the man offered an arm tentatively, unsure if he'd need support, and gave a nod in the direction of the lighthouse. If the boy didn't want his help, he wouldn't keep more than a step ahead, watchful, and either way he'd lead him on as straight a path as possible to the lighthouse.

Now with a driftwood stick, the dog trotted along beside them companionably. They are walking on the beach buddies! Also there is a stick!
fresh_to_deaf: (Cute curious)

[personal profile] fresh_to_deaf 2015-03-03 08:35 pm (UTC)(link)
This was going as well as he could hope for; the guy hadn't come at him with an axe or left him there (though the former could still happen, but he was holding out on his faith in humanity)

At the offered arm, he shook his head gingerly, and - although it may fall on eyes that didn't know better - he signed a sincere thank you. The stranger didn't have to help him, but he was - and for that, he was grateful.
1stmacleod: (star to steer by)

[personal profile] 1stmacleod 2015-03-03 09:13 pm (UTC)(link)
There is, back at the lighthouse, a sword. There is also an axe, because sometimes he needs to chop firewood. Neither of these are likely to be used on the boy.

The scruffy-looking man with the intense eyes stays close, watchful, but he won't touch him if the kid seems able to walk on his own. The beach is easy enough, and when they reach the rocky outcropping where the lighthouse is perched, there are steps cut into the stone. Up close it's tall, of course, but overall it's not a large building, and the little house attached at its base is a size that could be described as cozy. It's big enough for the man and his leggy dog, and maybe a guest, but this is the first time he's had one. He hasn't even bothered to lock the door, since there's nobody else out here, and he holds it open to let the boy into a small, neatly-kept kitchen. For a bachelor living alone, he's very tidy. It's warmer inside, and there's a small table with two chairs... one doesn't look like it gets used much, except to hold a few books and papers, which he hurries to move aside.
fresh_to_deaf: (Default)

[personal profile] fresh_to_deaf 2015-03-04 12:32 am (UTC)(link)
While his head was killing him, walking wasn't too hard. His legs felt a little unsteady at first, but as long as he watched where he put his feet, the chances of him stumbling were slim. He was already putting this guy out by asking him for help - he didn't want him to think he couldn't even carry himself.

When they finally reached the man's house, Djem gave him a nod of thanks when he held the door open for him, and stepped inside.

The place was small, but that didn't bother him; all he cared about was that it was warm - much more so than he had been outside. He didn't even know how long he'd been on the beach...hell, he didn't know how he'd ended up there, or where 'there' was.

Absently scratching at a graze across his arm, Djem stood to a side (albeit somewhat shyly) unsure of where he should go or what he should do.
1stmacleod: (concerned)

[personal profile] 1stmacleod 2015-03-04 01:24 am (UTC)(link)
The dog trailed in after them with her stick, nudging the boy's hand with it hopefully, tail wagging again.

After moving the papers aside, the man moved swiftly to nudge the boy into a chair, put a teakettle on the stove, and hurried off to the next room. In a moment he returned to drop a blanket around the boy's shoulders, then dropped into the other chair at the table across from him, opening a lined notebook and writing quickly. When he was done, he slid both notebook and pen across the table to him, watching with a quiet concern broken only by the dog's nudging his hand into petting.

Already at the top of the page in slanty, slightly old-fashioned script it says,

'Are you hurt? I'm connor. Dog is Sorcha. You're safe here.'
fresh_to_deaf: (Suspicious)

[personal profile] fresh_to_deaf 2015-03-04 12:00 pm (UTC)(link)
While the stranger moved some things aside to make room for him, Djem crouched next to the dog, giving it some of the attention it was obviously asking for. He didn't know if it was male or female, but whichever it was, it was sweet enough.

Once the man had finished at the table, Djem straightened up again, and took his cue to take a seat. His hair felt dry with salt and sand, his hands much the same as he rubbed them through it and down over his face, only looking up again when he felt the blanket around his shoulders. He pulled it tighter around him, and waited patiently to see what the man had to say.

'I'm Djem. My head hurts a little, but other than that, no. Thank you for helping me'

Having something to call him was certainly helpful, as was being able to thank him properly.

Giving Connor time to read what he'd written, he added something else underneath his introduction.

'Where am I?'
1stmacleod: (flat look)

[personal profile] 1stmacleod 2015-03-04 02:32 pm (UTC)(link)
The name definitely wasn't a clue, although Sorcha was a girl, and happy to lick his hands and get petting. Mm, salty.

Connor watched him thoughtfully as he wrote. The kid could use a shower, but his clothes might be salvageable after a good wash, maybe just water first, to get the salt out. He didn't look hypothermic, and wasn't bleeding, so a shower and food ought to be enough to put him to rights again. Reading over the note, he mouthed the name. Middle-Eastern, maybe? Connor once lived in Marrakesh for close to a decade, and spoke enough languages he hadn't been worried if writing in English turned out to be the wrong guess. He would have just moved on to the next language until they hit on one that worked.

'Coast of Maine. Nowheresville. Do you remember hitting your head?' He slid the notebook back after writing. A concussion was not what this kid needed. As the kettle began to whistle, he rose to make tea, both to get the boy warmer and hydrated.
fresh_to_deaf: (What the heck)

[personal profile] fresh_to_deaf 2015-03-04 04:00 pm (UTC)(link)
He had to read the reply twice, maybe three times before responding, a frown etching itself deeply into his face. Maine? How the hell did he get to Maine? Last time he checked he was literally on the other side of the continent. And yet, when he tried to remember exactly how he'd ended up here, he drew blanks. It was confusing, but above all, it was frightening.

Still - somehow - he managed to stay relatively calm as he put pen to paper once more, getting his answer down while Connor got up to tend to the kettle.

'I don't remember how I even got here, let alone hitting my head.'

Not only was he across the country, he had no idea how long he'd been away from California. Hell, Yasemin worried about him being a few hours late - at this point they were probably going mad.
1stmacleod: (flat look)

[personal profile] 1stmacleod 2015-03-04 05:36 pm (UTC)(link)
A lack of memory is never a good sign, in a concussion, but Connor has an aversion to hospitals, and it would take a while to get to one from here, anyway. He frowns as he reads the reply, setting a steaming cup of herbal tea before him.

After a moment of thought, he sits again to write.

'Do you know a phone number for home? Family?' He might not be able to use the phone himself, but Connor can.
fresh_to_deaf: (Irritated)

[personal profile] fresh_to_deaf 2015-03-04 06:47 pm (UTC)(link)
It was a simple enough question, but while he remembered his sibling with no trouble, information like his phone number or address completely eluded him.

Looking from the page to Connor, Djem opened his mouth as if to answer, but he didn't - he just shook his head and shrugged helplessly.

'I remember my sibling, but nothing specific. No numbers, no addresses'

The more he thought about his situation and the more he tried to recall anything about how he'd arrived on the beach, the faster it began to sink in. How was he going to get home?
1stmacleod: (old warrior)

[personal profile] 1stmacleod 2015-03-04 07:39 pm (UTC)(link)
"Easy... easy lad." The words were reflexive, if unheard. There was no point letting the kid work himself into a panic, but he could see the wheels turning clear on his face. Connor reached across to pat his shoulder gently, while the dog settled under the table between their feet.

'Drink your tea.' He borrowed the notebook to write. 'Rest. Take a shower. What do you like to eat?'
fresh_to_deaf: (Profile concerned)

[personal profile] fresh_to_deaf 2015-03-04 11:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Likewise, he could feel himself gradually starting to get upset, though he was doing his best not to crack. After a few deep breaths, he went to pick up the pen again.

'I really don't mind - I'm starving.' And then, underneath that, 'I'm sorry for this. You probably have other things to be doing'

He was sorry, as well as grateful. He didn't know what to feel at this point, so having the mug of tea there acted as a good distraction. It gave him something to do with his hands, and the burning pain that coated his tongue as he swallowed the first mouthful did wonders to snap him out of it. Had he given it more time to cool and actually stopped to savour it, he might have thought it tasted nice. But, he'd underestimated how thirsty he was.
1stmacleod: (small smile)

So sorry! I've been really sick...

[personal profile] 1stmacleod 2015-03-09 02:47 pm (UTC)(link)
The lighthouse offered solitude, peace and quiet and a more rustic lifestyle. There was a small garden, to supplement his food stores, and that took work, and the lighthouse itself required maintenance to keep in good working order, but the truth was, there wasn't enough work here to fill his days. If Connor had been busy, he wouldn't have been wandering the beach. This time of day, in this weather, there was no need for the guiding beacon across clear skies. Connor had no other things to be doing.

Ducking his head a little to catch the boy's eyes, Connor gave a mild nod and a little smile. His houseguest was quiet and undemanding, and he wanted to be a reassuring figure while they sorted out what to do with him.

On the pad he quickly penned, 'You're fine. I'm not busy.' Then stood to give him another pat on the shoulder. A shower, some food, and some actual sleep instead of concussed blank, and he might feel a little better. Once again he slipped out of the room, fetching a pair of flannel drawstring pants and a t-shirt, clean towels, and laying it all out in the bathroom. While he was gone, under the table Sorcha edged closer to rest her head on the boy's knee, watching him with soulful eyes.

Returning, Connor offered the boy a hand up gently. If he wanted to bring the pad and pen along for communication that was fine, but they could also manage without for a while.
fresh_to_deaf: (Profile concerned)

Don't even worry - take all the time you need. Hope you feel better :(

[personal profile] fresh_to_deaf 2015-03-09 08:20 pm (UTC)(link)
When he eventually managed to get home again, Djem would have to find a way to repay Connor for his kindness. Just the fact he'd brought him into his home knowing nothing about him and was helping him was more than he'd been expecting, if he'd been expecting anything at all.

While Connor was out the room, he felt Sorcha put her head on his leg under the table, his hand finding her ears and scratching gently behind them, her fur soft under his finger tips. He didn't know how long he'd have to stay here, but he'd definitely miss her once he had to leave.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he took Connor's cue to get up. As he did so, he shrugged the blanket off his shoulders folding it neatly over the back of his seat.
1stmacleod: (Sorcha hopeful)

Recovering slowly... had to go back to work today. :P

[personal profile] 1stmacleod 2015-03-10 02:20 am (UTC)(link)
As much as she loved Connor, the dog would probably miss having another friend around, too. Under the table her tail thudded a slow rhythm on the floor that he could feel through the soles of his shoes.

Connor led him through the little cottage to a bathroom, where the change of clothes and clean towels and soap were laid out. They didn't need words for this. A warm shower would probably make him feel more like himself, and in the meantime Connor planned to cook up a hot meal. More tea would be in order, too. Connor was a firm believer in the healing power of tea.

Sorcha trailed after them both, curious, tail a slow-waving flag.
fresh_to_deaf: (Profile concerned)

[personal profile] fresh_to_deaf 2015-03-11 10:39 am (UTC)(link)
As he followed him through into the bathroom, Djem looked from the pile of fresh clothes and towels back to Connor, signing another 'thank you' - this time managing a small smile as he did.

A shower had definitely been needed, though he hadn't really thought about it till now. His skin and hair were dry with salt, in desperate need of some TLC - that pretty much summed up how he felt in general at the moment.

While he was careful not to spend long in the shower, making himself get out took effort. It had been a good move, and as he emerged from the bathroom and made his way back into the kitchen - tugging the borrowed shirt over his head as he went - he had to admit, he felt better. Seeing food being prepared helped immensely.

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Stuff happens!

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