icyu ([personal profile] icyu) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet2014-07-24 11:59 am

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.
infligere: (To carry on)

[personal profile] infligere 2014-07-27 01:57 am (UTC)(link)
While he wasn't a science-type, he knew that their technician from the team was messing around with a bunch of stuff before they got this piece of machinery down and strapped. He also had heard mutterings of the great finds of technology and the guy calling around with excited whispers like Christmas had come earlier than usual, and as long as the asshole didn't facebook a picture of this thing, he'd be fine with the giggling in the corner. At least HYDRA had tact, having learned most of it not only from the war but those pesky Soviets.

Yet, watching the big guy wake up was similar to how the other asset started to wake. First there was brain function, then there was body function and then there were generalized confusion followed by potential threats to everyone in the room in the whole disoriented stage. It was just too bad this guy was apparently not as fleshy and perhaps harder to restrain. Still, he was here to not only greet but make a report, assuming there were no laser beams of high tech weaponry involved here.

Of course, he was interested that the current restraints held, but he wasn't so certain how long. He kept his cool and calm posture for the whole thing, but his expression morphed into one of wily amusement at the whole 'obstructing an officer' bit because it was rather laughable. How was he obstructing anything standing in a corner? God, technology with a 'brain' sucked.

"You gonna give me a parking ticket too," he drawled with a shake of his head. "Besides, you're the one illegally parked in the restraints, not me. Do we need to get a nice man with a screwdriver in here to test your reflexes?"
yourmove: (016)

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-07-27 03:41 am (UTC)(link)
Well...no. Of all the things he ran simulations on, Alex hadn't planned to slap him with a parking ticket. His eyebrows knitted together, puzzled. Maybe his emotional analysis program was bugged. It couldn't determine if it was identified as sarcasm or an implied threat. Alex filed that away to check during his next schedule maintenance as he stared hard at Rumlow and checked for a precedence for this.

Did it count as a torture threat if he didn't count as legally human in several countries?

"You can release me," Alex doggedly pursued that train of thought. It felt comfortable to fall back on something he understood: going down the list of orders until he got results. It didn't get rid of that faint curl of discomfort where his guts used to be. Reviewing it said he preferred to stay in one piece. "Inability to comply will have consequences down the line. I repeat: identify yourself"

From the way John Doe's mouth twisted, Alex suspected he wasn't impressed. He wasn't exactly putting his hands on his head and lying on the ground like any cooperative, sane suspect would. Strange.

Alex tilted his chin. He couldn't bring himself to his full height with the restraints in place. His chassis bumped into the straps again, something metal groaning in protest. He hadn't identified that phantom sensation as fear and for a cop who used to go undercover, it was one of those things he really should have been paying more attention to.

One of those techs came scuttling inside to whisper something to Rumlow, her voice hushed. Alex tracked his progress across the room, his enhanced hearing catching fragments of "control tablet" and "don't go too far with him, sir - we need him".
infligere: (Where will you go my Lucifer)

[personal profile] infligere 2014-07-27 03:20 pm (UTC)(link)
"No can do, bub, I'm on orders to keep you right here," Brock said with a shrug of his shoulders like he was actually apologetic, which he wasn't. He was curious but certainly not apologetic for anything that he had to do now or in the future.

It was clear that this wasn't just something that was going to be scrap metal. This was something big, and they were going to study, fix and either make improvements to the designs for make it work for them. It would be useful, though he had already noted that there was something about this new find that lead him to believe it might actually have something to do with law enforcement. He'd run into them enough as a much younger man and played the part a bit too much babysitting his SHIELD compatriots to know what it sounded like.

"Whoa, whoa, I don't do introductions like that," he said with a shake of his head as he finally pushed off of the wall. "You demanded thing of me, not the other way around. You want the honour of my name, you'll identify yourself first. Isn't that how proper introductions work, or are you just going to be rude?" He would like to see how programming dealt with command decency.

It was kind of like watching an awkward metal bull shift around in a squeeze shoot, though with none of the pent up aggression so far. He almost approached to get a better look, but his attention was diverted by the little piece of shit thinking to order him around. He waved the technician off with a hand and pushed off the wall, striding forward with a confident swagger. He's put new weapons through their paces before after all.

"My cute little assistant seems to think you need coddling. Is that true?"
yourmove: (079)

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-07-28 11:44 am (UTC)(link)
Orders? Alex would send everything he was recording to his handler but he checked that connection, too: the feed was dead, it wasn't a two way street anymore. All the times he complained - used to complain - about having no privacy and now that he finally had it, he wasn't sure what to do with it. The fact that his feed was disabled seemed to indicate this could be a mercenary hired by one of OmniCorp's competitors. Someone must have done their homework. He doubted the local Detroit mob would have that kind of foresight dealing with their first cyborg, making sure he couldn't call for backup.

Industrial espionage, then. If that was the case, he would have assumed their mercenary would be more...professional. This one didn't fit the usual profiles, personality wise.

Alex seemed almost taken aback at Rumlow, the silence stretching several long seconds as if he was processing something. He had never been lectured on his people skills, although his trigger finger might have had something to do with that. Most people on his beats treated him with respect or fear or a combination of both. So long as they remained productive, law-abiding citizens, Alex hadn't been too particular about the details. This mercenary didn't have that look, that body-language that said he had that respect. Alex couldn't picture him respecting anyone. Well. Maybe the paycheck.

"Detective Alex Murphy, Detroit Police Department." It might have been either leftover stubbornness ingrained in Alex or he just plain didn't care: he didn't call himself "RoboCop" no matter how popular that name was in the polls. He finally seemed to remember that thing called blinking.

"I require daily maintenance, yes," Alex didn't see where this was going. "Coddling" wasn't the word he would have used, personally. "Why?"

He watched as Rumlow came closer and closer, more of a saunter than anything else. It didn't occur to him that he should keep his mouth shut instead of broadcasting everything.
Edited (typos, tense fix. Mind if I jump to present tense prose?) 2014-07-28 11:46 (UTC)
infligere: (And reap destruction through our lives)

Whichever tense you like :)

[personal profile] infligere 2014-07-28 03:28 pm (UTC)(link)
Brock had been told a bit of what the technicians had found, the whole cyborg thing and all the strange broadcasting wavelengths that had either been disabled or were being blocked so the signal wouldn't bounce anywhere they didn't want it to. That was just the way of things though, and he was curious what the point of having a cyborg with a face was, though he supposed this guy had some human characteristics as well. Once all the tests and specs had been run, they would know more about the technology at least.

He liked that reaction to his lecturing; it was strangely human. Ironically, it was more human than he would have gotten out of the other asset, who would have just struggled to find an order in his words and run with it. Funny, the asset had a robotic arm and human otherwise, but this guy was all machine except his face and was far more human. Must have been a cop thing.

"Detroit, huh?" Well, that explained the need for a cyborg; that place was skuzzier than the inside of a long-term prostitute's working parts. "Well, Detective, it's a pleasure to meet you." Not really, but he at least sounded sincere. "I'm Agent Brock Rumlow. Now that was pleasant introductions, wasn't it?"

He stopped when he was just out of arm reach if the bionic man managed to break out of those restraints, which he had been assured wouldn't happen. He never believed technicians though. "We've apparently lost your current instruction manual, but we're working out what you need. You were confiscated by illegal black-market splinter groups, but we're bringing you back. You can thank us later."
yourmove: (013)

Re: Whichever tense you like :)

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-07-28 09:23 pm (UTC)(link)
Alex thinks the explanation sounded plausible, except he has a cyborg’s need to everything categorized and ready to be filed. Everything in a neat row. The i’s dotted and the t’s crossed. It’s not so much doubt as this need to file everything. He levels a stare at Rumlow, having to tilt his head up as he’s still sitting, restrained, and that leaves the mercenary (rescuer?) with a distinct height advantage. As someone who’s been used to towering over others, it’s not an experience he has that often.

“I’d like to see some confirmation, please,” Alex says mildly. “Paperwork, receipts you’ve been hired to retrieve me. Did you leave any of the black market dealers alive so I can interrogate them? I’d like to have testimony to submit at a later time.”

At no point do those magic words thank you exit his mouth. Even that please sounds like a formality. Like a signature you sign off on something over and over and over until it loses all meaning. Admittedly Alex isn’t sure why he needs to be restrained, if what Rumlow says checks out. Reviewing the records of Rumlow he started making, he notes there was a certain…emphasis on the word “detective”. Maybe he doesn’t approve of cops. Thought they got in the way of their work. Alex thinks he could agree on that point because he feels the same way about this sort of freelance work. It’s the closest thing to distaste he’s capable of feeling right now.

Alex’s arm flexes, his right hand curling and uncurling fingers that still look like they’re human. The cuff squeals again.

“Why am I restrained?” Alex goes right back to that too. “Retrieval or not, you’re still obstructing a police officer, Mr. Rumlow.”
Edited (uncurling typo) 2014-07-28 22:10 (UTC)
infligere: (To carry on)

[personal profile] infligere 2014-07-29 12:57 am (UTC)(link)
Wow, real stand up cop there on the bench, and it's not surprising that it required robotics to make a stand up one. The one's he had met weren't really the type to be more than burnt out, washed out or generally dishonest on something or another. His dealings with police early had never been good; his dealings with them later on had been much better because he worked for the government and his commands sometimes overrode the basic police. It was nice to sit on the guys who kicked him around like he was no good. Turned out they were right though.

"Yeah, yeah, once we know the extent of the tampering, you'll be given all that and every other mundane detail that could keep your wires from getting crossed," he replied, his tone bored like this was all expected and not the least bit interesting to him. Like he was baby-sitting. Like he wasn't about to get the biggest ass-pat of his life for coming across and locking down such a big find. "Until then, we're monitoring you. Sit tight, cross your legs and try not to piss on the carpet." Of course, the guy couldn't cross legs as that required movement.

Those cuffs had better hold or he was going to put a foot up the inventor's ass when he left here.

"Agent," he replied sharply. "That's Agent Rumlow to you, detective." Geez, show a double-agent some respect here; he was certainly in a higher tax bracket for sure. "And you're restrained because we think someone tampered with you. Until the cute technicians run some tests and check everything, it's for our safety. Can't have you going berserk or anything."
yourmove: (002)

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-07-29 02:57 am (UTC)(link)
"I'm incapable of pissing," Alex corrects him.

There also isn't any carpet on the floor, which seems to indicate it's a figure of speech instead of literal. He catches himself thinking that communication would be easier, more efficient, if Mr - Agent - Rumlow didn't rely so heavily on figures of speech and what he suspects is supposed to pass as dry humor of some kind.

The diagnostics he ran didn't seem to support any tampering. None of the usual evidence and markers. Alex doesn't take that as necessarily indicative of lying - it's possible whoever tampered with him might have known about his fail-safes and bypassed those just like his feed, probably with inside knowledge that went past just obtaining his instruction manual. This pointed at inside job. Possibly a tech who was bought out. Alex noted that to put in his report once he got back. If he got back. Agent Rumlow says they're working out the kinks but there's the little things like Alex's nutritional intake and his dialysis. Without those, they might not have a cyborg to deliver. If starvation doesn't kill him, the blood poisoning will.

"I'd suggest you look for my glucose solutions while we wait, Agent. Or ask your techs."

If it wasn't for the polite, clinical look on Alex's face, he could be mistaken for borderline bitchy. Maybe he just doesn't approve of the drawl on "detective". Or maybe he doesn't care for the overly familiar way Agent Rumlow talks to him, as if they know each other.

That little instinct that something wasn't right here is still trying to claw its way to the surface, past the comfortable layer of neurosuppression. Alex keeps trying to stare down Rumlow, trying to get a better read on him as if he can burn a hole to the truth. His facial/emotion analysis program puts markers on the smirk and the bored eyes and can't get a pin on him.

[ooc: did you want him to try to break free or timeskip to something? Maybe he can hear contradictions from a tech, Rumlow could subdue?]
infligere: (Here our king is born)

[personal profile] infligere 2014-07-29 04:10 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yeah, so I've been informed," Brock replied. His comment had been purposeful, since there wasn't carpet in here either. There was still the bad dog illusion to play off of, given he often liked to think of the other asset as a muzzled dog most of the time that power house was released into the field. At least they got along better.

Of course, he was used to people not liking him, and there were certain people that he liked to make that impression with. He couldn't rub elbows with everyone after all, and really, he figured that once this Alex cyborg was reprogrammed, there would be none of this conversation left to play off of. He could change his attitude as it seemed to benefit him and those he worked for at the time of a second meeting. Until then, he'd play bad cop. He liked that role.

"Sure thing, I'll make sure to give you a juice box," he replied but he did actually lift a hand to communication unit in his right ear and spoke quietly in it for a technician to actually check for vitals and whatever was necessary to keep their charge healthy and relatively happy. "They're looking into it, so keep your panties from getting in too much of a knot."

[Sure, let's have a break free attempt?]
yourmove: (063)

and magical timeskip. also I'm okay if you need to godmode anything

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-07-30 03:02 am (UTC)(link)
He'd clarify that he doesn't wear clothes, much less panties, but Alex is starting to suspect it's a lost cause with Agent Rumlow. He closes his mouth and waits.

The good thing is he's much, much better about waiting than he used to be.

* * *


The bad news is someone blabs. In their defense, they're out of range of a normal man's hearing but they forget Alex is specifically built to collect permissible evidence: that means he can see further than he used to, hear further. When he hears I think I figured out how to wipe it and try overloading the transmitter, he's had enough waiting around, tied down like he's the rest of the cargo. It doesn't matter if Agent Rumlow was hired to bring him back to OmniCorp - Alex prefers to keep his memories and data intact. Even he can ape a survival instinct if it's necessary.

By the time someone finds Rumlow, Alex has forced his way out of the restraints, dragging the chair that's been bolted out of the floor with him. Some of the cuffs are still hanging off his chest and legs as he kicks off the chair, his head swiveling left, then right. Looking for someone to detain, interrogate and verify Agent Rumlow's story.

Now he has one of the techs by the scruff of his shirt, visor down, his back to the door as he shakes down the poor man for the truth...
infligere: (But we'll not fall)

[personal profile] infligere 2014-08-01 05:14 am (UTC)(link)
And of course someone lower on the totem pole, ignorant of how specialized weapons worked and their specific deadliness when let on the loose, had blabbed too close to the new acquisition. Brock had been up with the rest of his team doing a debriefing and having a meeting with some of the other agents of HYDRA to get information on the weapon specifically, how to handle and detain it, where they were going to take it for study, and what he knew about it so far in his brief talk with it. He had also given his side of their fresh lie to make it happen.

But someone had blabbed, and it cost them dearly. When news finally reached him that there was a problem, he grunted in aggravation but suited up anyway. He went armed, his sniper rifle swinging from his hip, his pistol holstered on the other side, his new electrical tasers at his belt and more than a few knives obvious and hidden on his person. He also had his communicator still hooked on his ear as he took Rollins and two others with him down into the depths with the new weapon who they could hear making noise.

"Human causalities acceptable, but the Murphy is to be contained. Limited damage, and I'm point," he said firmly. He took on the role of leader easily, and he gestured to his second to unlock and open the door.

He stepped inside, his sniper rifle raised and locked on target to find an interesting sight. Any more shaking and he was certain the technician was either going to piss himself or that bald head was about to roll right off. "Drop the tech and step back, Murphy. Do it now, or I will shoot."
yourmove: (073)

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-08-03 11:28 am (UTC)(link)
The visor should, in theory, protect his brain and the neural array grated into its folds. He says "in theory" because there's only so much that armor can withstand before the structural integrity is compromised. Turning, hauling his suspect with him, Alex pivots to stare at Agent Rumlow. He can't place the sniper rifle's make, but staring down the barrel, he can assume it has enough stopping power to penetrate his armor. At least Rumlow isn't lying about that.

He doesn't drop the tech. But he also doesn't do what any decent HYDRA operative worth his clearance would - he doesn't use the tech as a human shield, assume that just maybe he's too valuable for Rumlow to risk shooting. Mostly he holds him like luggage.

"Explain his testimony," Alex stands his ground. His other hand is low, hanging close to his hip where his thigh holsters are hidden behind graphene plating. "He said you're not affiliated with OmniCorp."

He has three possible hostiles targeted plus Rumlow so far: he could draw and aim much faster than he could when he was a normal human and normally he would take the shots. But he can't get a good read on Rumlow and that's enough to make him pause. His threat analysis looks at the man, assesses his hand positions and it can't tell him with certainty if he's going to shoot or not. The other three don't worry him. It's just that one man. The one that now Alex is left wondering if he's really an Agent or he's someone else. It wasn't clear if they wanted him alive or they wanted the chassis and the rest of him was optional.
infligere: (Where will you go my Lucifer)

[personal profile] infligere 2014-08-06 02:57 am (UTC)(link)
Brock was equipped with the very best, but even he had no idea what kind of damage the new acquisition could take if push came to shove, though he admitted to being interested to finding out what that might be. He could only do that if Murphy went off the deep-end because he couldn't justify that kind of force otherwise. Too bad really, but he knew where he stood in all of this.

"No, I'm not," he said simply, though there really was no reason to answer any of those questions. It was just amusing to do so. "However, I brought you in from a bad situation all the same, so if you don't put that technician back on his feet and let him go, I will be put in the position of using force on you," he said coldly, his eyes shifting into the scope of his rifle. It wasn't necessary really; he had a clear shot with his eyes closed.

"Don't make me tell you again, Murphy."