bakerstreet | The Captivity Meme

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The Captivity Meme

THE CAPTIVITY MEME

You've been captured -- or maybe you've been held captive for a while now. Whatever the case, you've lost your freedom, and there's a specific person responsible for that. You might be a prisoner, a mental patient, a kidnap victim, or someone's pet. Maybe you're there willingly, or maybe the choice has been taken away from you completely.

Both smut and non-smut scenarios are possible. If you don't want to play smut, please indicate so in the title line of your tag.

1. Leave a tag with your character. Be sure to include any limits on what you are willing to play, as this meme has the potential to be triggering.

2. Someone else tags in and uses RNG to generate a number between 1 and 9. The second character is holding the first character captive now.

3. ???

4. Profit!

Scenarios

1. For their own good. Does this person really think they could make it on their own? It's a big, scary world out there, and you need to protect them from it, whether they like it or not.

2. For the good of society. Forget protecting this person -- it's your duty to protect the world from them! Maybe they committed a terrible crime, or maybe they were falsely condemned, but it's your job to keep them locked up where they can't do any more harm.

3. Because they're not well. How's your bedside manner? Whether you're Florence Nightingale or Mildred Ratched, you're in the position of ministering to the mentally ill. Maybe this person genuinely needs your help, or maybe you're just turning a blind eye to their true sanity.

4. For the money. Higher aims? What higher aims? This person is your meal ticket, and they're staying put until their loved ones pay up.

5. For their love. It might be a case of yandere, or it might be a consenting BDSM relationship. Whether it's by mutual agreement or by force, you're keeping them simply because you love them.

6. Because they're cute and fluffy. Who's a cutesy wutesy? They are! Yes, they are! This person is your pet now. Maybe they're a different species from you, or maybe you just don't care that you're both people. Maybe you're even an alien zookeeper looking after a new acquisition.

7. Because they're your property. Slave? Livestock? Who cares what they think - they're our property, and you decide their fate.

8. For the lulz. Hey, what's a little bondage between friends? You'll let them go, once you're done laughing and snapping photos... maybe.

9. Choose a scenario, or combine several.

Taken from here.

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[he moves his fingers next, flexing them experimentally. the only thing, really, that hasn't changed is the boy's smile.]

A dream. Lots of them. More than people. And you got caught by this one.

[Dreams, was it.]

Preposterous. A dream is just a manifestation of brain activity which occurs during REM sleep. It is neither a physical location nor a place someone can be "stuck" in; if someone were stuck in sleep, they would be comatose and not notice much of anything.

[Part of him realized the futility of challenging this notion; he was here, after all, and he knew better than anybody the ways in which science could fail the explanation of the bizarre. But he couldn't leave this unchallenged, not when he still considered himself however tangentially a man of science.

More importantly, the boy was beginning to move more. His hand clutched tighter around the pipe, an increasing inner directive to flee building in his mind.]

[he laughs a little bit.]

Physically. Dreaming and unaware outside of this. Not a lot of people are happy about it. Your head will hurt after this. But they're worried too. And where does your mind go when you're dreaming?

[joints creak like rusted hinges as the boy lifts an arm and reaches out. he's not going to get very far since his legs aren't working though. but still...he can feel that desire to run.]

...are you running away again?

The mind is simply a set of electrical impulses. It is in the exact same location it always is. This conversation is ludicrous.

[Or it was, until the other boy asked the new question. He tensed slightly.]

What do you mean by "again," precisely?

[the boy rolls his eyes and seemly decides to abandon that half of the conversation. with his arm still raised, he holds up three fingers and his smile twitches.]

Three people you know. What did you do to them? Same thing you're thinking about right now. Did running away solve anything then?

[The boy's response hit his brain like a bolt to the head. He felt light-headed, waves of nausea and guilt, self-loathing and panic washing over him like waves. The hand that held the pipe shook as his already pale complexion grew even paler.]

What... how could you possibly know... That's impossible, I haven't said a thing about that night since I escaped...

[He stepped back a step, trembling.]

Dream, remember? Everything of mine is here. Everything of yours is here. Everything of theirs is here. And hers, too. Can't hide nightmares from a nightmare.

[and there's a loud pop as his legs finally regain their ability to move. he takes one step forward...]

[Hiroshi was a smart boy. Good grades, a good sense of logic. He even had an unusually strong sense of lateral thinking. But in a situation like this, panicked, stressed, and confused about his situation, his courage could only hold out for so long.

The movement of the other boy's leg was all it took for it to give.

Hiroshi ran, back out the door, rushing towards the stairs leading upstairs. He needed to find a place to hide, to get his thoughts together. ANYTHING.]

[the boy laughs and it follows him up the stairs. luckily enough there's nothing but empty classrooms on that floor for now so picking and choosing any of those to hide in is easy as pie.

...but the boy didn't follow him. although Hiroshi probably isn't stupid enough to try, if he went back downstairs, he'd still be in the same room and still stuck to the floor. but events will repeat so there's really not much point.

still, at least he had a break now, right?]

[Hiroshi only grasped the reality of the situation once he'd darted into a classroom, shutting the door tightly behind him. When he realized he heard no steps after a few moments, the tension slid away, leaving him to slide down, his back to the door, hands around his knees. He was still shaking, but not from the adrenaline of the chase that never happened.

It was from the memories of the chases that had already occurred.

A year. The Jailhouse had been a year ago. One year since he had followed his friends there, expecting little more that a swift debunking and perhaps a little architectural rot. One year since they had entered that drafty lobby, scaring Takeshi with talk of monsters.

One year since Hiroshi alone had emerged alive and still human.

A few of the other students held it against him. "The Murder Nerd," they called him. Not everybody, of course; there had never been an investigation into what happened at that mansion, never any indication that the adults thought the disappearance of the other kids had been anything other than a tragic accident resulting from poorly judged curiosity. Honestly, the lack of followup had seemed suspicious at the time, but nobody else seemed to call anybody out on it, and the night gradually slide into memory.

But for Hiroshi, the evening never left. Not the nightmares, not the guilt. Even those who didn't openly mock him treated him as something of a social pariah. He had never been the most conversational person in the first place; now it was like he barely existed for most people. And he noticed how some kids would speed up if they saw him. His studies were the only thing he had left. His studies... and his regrets.

...But he still couldn't die. Not here. Dying would almost be a waste at this point, although a waste of what he couldn't say. Perhaps it was just stubbornness at work. Or maybe he felt a certain resentment at that boy -- 'nightmare?' Hadn't he called himself that? -- and his horribly cavalier approach towards Hiroshi's state. And if he could find a way out of this... dream (he could acknowledge things in his mind he could not say out loud), then perhaps there was hope for other victims of the rumor.

He pushed himself up, using the pipe as a crutch. All right. Back to work.]

[yes, back to work. running away did nothing in the end.

outside a few things have changed. without making any sound the doors to the other classrooms had closed. they are not locked, however, and can be explored freely. not counting the classroom that Hiroshi had hide inside, there are five other classrooms.

also from that floor the roof can be accessed from the staircase leading up. that goes into a small hallway before the door to the roof is available. and finally, there is the basement but Hiroshi would have to go downstairs again, which he may not want to. that boy was on that floor and maybe he could get out...]

[A dream. Was it really exclusively his own? Were there other people? He couldn't say. But he had to try, at least.

First on the list was the classrooms on the floor he was currently on. With the shift in feel, this included the room he'd originally found himself in. He wasn't sure exactly what he was looking for, but there had to be something. This was a puzzle, and one only he'd be able to work out.]

[the first few classrooms don't seem to have much in them, or at least, stuff you wouldn't find in a normal classroom anyways. but that's just a few.

one has a noose attached to the ceiling with a chair underneath it that's been knocked over though. a jab at Hiroshi's past or a 'way out' one of the disappeared students tried to take? who knows. what is obvious is that there is a weight, if going by the way the rope is swinging. something is there even if its invisible.

in the same room, on the teacher's desk, is a file. it's a class attendance list and all the names and pictures on it belong to the missing students. strangely the black haired boy's picture is there too, but his name has been blotted out by different colored markers. oops?]

[The noose made him sick to his stomach. He could see the scene from his past play out in his mind; Takeshi's body, hanging from the rope. Hiroshi, moving as if mechanically to solve the puzzle he needed to move forward. Not once did he seem to acknowledge the corpse of his friend. He didn't touch it, didn't stare at it. He didn't even help him down; gravity had done it for him.

In the following months, he could only see that as proof of his own horribleness.

The weight, however, is curious. There's clearly nothing there. Nothing visible, at least. But the way the noose was hanging indicated someone was there at least. He wanted to ignore it, to focus on the file, but Takeshi's death played through his head tauntingly. At length, he swallowed and moved forward, reaching towards where a body MIGHT be. Maybe... maybe if something WAS there, he could... do the right thing for once.]

[there isn't anything there to indicate that something was actually weighing the rope down but the air in that area is ice cold. also, if he tests it out, Hiroshi will find the area of the cold air is roughly the size of a teenager. but really, there's nothing there.

still, the rope can be taken down if he wants to try. gravity won't help him right now but turning his back on the noose when exiting the room hadn't turned out that well last time.

and there's still the file. it's a bit thicker than you'd expect a record for student attendance to be. and it can be taken out of the room without any consequences. how lucky is that?]

[He pulled his hand back sharply at the feel. A localized area of frigidity like that didn't make much sense. Then again, nothing was making a lot of sense at all right now.

The noose offended him. He started at it for a moment before finally righting the chair again to reach up and take it down. Maybe it was a pointless gesture, but somehow removing the rope made him feel better. Once that was accomplished, he would go to look at the file.]

[the rope comes down easily and there's no weight to hinder the process. the cold air vanishes too. in fact, the whole room warms up a little bit.

after the student attendance, the next few pages of the file details past students that apparently attended this school, one page for the boys and one for the girls. the black haired boy's picture and what would be his name if it wasn't scribbled out where noted here too, but if he was a student in the past, he must have been here for a very, very long time. in the photo his scars are missing.

on the girl's page, the bottom half has been torn off. a note on the top of the page indicates that there were eight girls attending this class and it looked someone had taken away the photos and names of five of them.]

[He felt an odd sense of relief as the cold dissipated. He felt ridiculous thinking that way, but he couldn't deny it.

The mysteries contained in the file abounded. The central one, of course, was the boy himself. So much effort to conceal his identity. And the eyes; why were the eyes as they were now? Who did that to him, and why? If the photo was real and not just a dream figment, then that indicated that he had been sane at one point. But whoever he was, he wasn't anymore.

The girls were a curiosity as well. Perhaps if he searched the rest of this building, he would find their identities? But if so, what would that achieve? He felt like something was leading him somewhere, and he didn't know what, or why.

And in the meantime, people must be getting scared I am not waking up. At least... I hope they still care that much at least.

He tucked the file under one arm, then went to go check out one of the remaining classrooms on this floor.]

[as soon as he walks out of the room the door shuts quietly behind him. it doesn't lock itself.

in the next classroom there's actually another person! not someone who went missing nor one of the girls in the file, indicating she might be one of the five missing ones. her appearance was a bit unusual though. she had white hair pulled into two pigtails and red eyes, just like the boy downstairs. aimlessly wandering around the room, she doesn't seem to notice she has company. her uniform is stained with blood, however, and so is her face.

meanwhile that inexplicable chill is back in the air but with no noose this time. the drawers for the teacher's desk have been pulled open and the contents dumped on the floor. in particular, there's a number of scraps of paper scattered around. maybe one of them goes with the file?]

[He stopped short again, the vivid image of the girl wandering about catching his attention. Another "nightmare?" She seemed unaware of his presence, however, and those scraps definitely seemed like likely candidates. Maybe if he moved slowly enough, she wouldn't even notice him checking them.]

[she doesn't notice a thing. honestly, she seems like a more mobile version of the black haired kid before Hiroshi found the pipe, doesn't she?

some of the scraps are useless but one belongs with the file and is for the girl sharing the room with Hiroshi at the moment. her name is Cassy, apparently. seventeen years old. brown hair--

er...or not, apparently? if they're the same person it doesn't explain the color swap. then again...dreams, if this is one, sometimes changed events around. it's very likely that things would be swapped around or look different. maybe that was the case?

in any case, one other scrap mentions something about the roof of the school. apparently it's locked for one reason or another and the key is in one of the classroom downstairs. it also goes on to say that the basement's lights have been fixed but someone needs to 'cut down those freaky tree things' because they were bothering the kids. whatever that means.]

[He looked at the girl in the photo, then at the girl wandering the classroom. What...? He pursed his lips. That was definitely bizarre. Maybe it was just dream logic, but...

He placed the scraps in the folder and looked around until he found the other one. Locked doors. Of course. He'd have to go downstairs, but at least he had the pipe on hand. Though what "freaky tree things" meant, he couldn't say. Something bad, probably. He took that scrap too and left, cautiously going down the stairs in case it turned out that black-haired boy really was still wandering about.]

[once again, the door shuts behind him as he leaves without locking.

back downstairs the black haired boy isn't wandering around at all. a matter of fact, if Hiroshi is brave enough to check, he's still standing in the classroom he was originally in. however, two things can happen if he checks. if the pipe is in the boy's line of sight - directly at the door - then he would have that twisted smile. but if he can't see it then he'll just be staring with no smile. but that's only if Hiroshi stays by the entrance of the door. if he walks inside the room with the pipe, it's all smiles again.

but at the very least there doesn't seem to be anything ominous about the other classrooms. in total there were four classrooms if the boy's room was counted to check.]

[Hiroshi wondered why the doors did that, but not enough to bother investigating particularly deeply.

The situation with the black-haired boy was peculiar. It was almost like the pipe was a key that wound the boy up. Clearly, there was some sort of greater connection between him and the pipe -- and likewise, between the boy and whoever had previously possessed the pipe. He wasn't sure what it all meant yet, but he wasn't about to complain about the boy's lack of movement. He didn't trust him.

He investigated the classroom next to the one where the boy was in instead. Somewhere, there was a key, and he needed to find it.]

[for a change of pace in this room, a few eye and mouth posters make their return here. they are all at the front of the classroom in place of a chalkboard so anyone who sat down would have to stare at them if they faced forward. there's six seats in the room.

there is also a bookcase in the back of the classroom that only has three books. they don't look as old as everything else in the school.

finally, the teacher's desk is locked for once but there is a note on the desk. it says: 'five are in the books. the sixth is wandering around. seventh is stuck in one room. eighth is in the air. the end is in the basement and the rest may be dead.

the mouths laugh but the eyes do something else'.]

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