bakerstreet | Since the last one was deleted...

Since the last one was deleted...

Body Horror Meme

Something's gone wrong. Maybe it was a little parasite, wiggling under your skin. Maybe something bit you that one night in the woods. Maybe someone decided they didn't like you and placed a curse on you, or maybe the local psychotic AI decided she liked you and filled you full of nanites. In any case, you're changing, body and soul. There's no way to stop it. No way to reverse it. And above all, it's the most painful thing you've ever experienced...

HOW IT WORKS:
- Tag the meme, leaving your character name, fandom, and any preferences in the subject line
- Other character tags you
- You tag back, and use the random number generator to select from the following options. Or don't, and do whatever strikes your fancy. If you roll something your character already is, either roll again, go for human, or pick something that otherwise suits your fancy.
- Other character reacts, or is free to also roll on the table
- Play out the results.
- Have fun, but respect the preferences of others.

1. Water-dwelling You're growing gills, or your skin is turning translucent, or you're sprouting fins, or maybe you're outright turning into some form of sea life. It doesn't matter what you're turning into – what does matter is that you're slowly losing the ability to breathe air, and there's no water in sight...

2. Animal Something bit you, and you're turning into an animal. Your bones lengthen or perhaps shrink, break, twist, and reform, your teeth lengthen or shorten, and above all, you feel your instincts being overridden. Your senses sharpen; you notice smells you never did before, your vision becomes more sensitive to movement. If you're a predator? Man, these people look mighty tasty. Prey? OHGOD, EVERYTHING IS TERRIFYING. Lizard? Enjoy your new inability to regulate body temperature. Bird? Have fun with the whole beak and hollowing bones. And don't even get us started on insects and arachnids...

3. Parasitic Something's inside you, and it's changing you from within, chewing up your insides and altering your thoughts. You're not sure how much longer you're going to be you, and when the parasite's going to take over completely...

4. Demonic You've been meddling with dark powers beyond the ken of mortal man, and it seems you've accidentally sold your soul. Will you be the traditional kind of demon, horns and hooves, or something far more terrifying and ineffable?

5. Undead No doubt about it, you're dying, but as you are, something's been altered in you. Maybe you're becoming a vampire – and not the fun kind, either, we're talking ugly, ravenous, and mad. Maybe you're a zombie, or a ghoul, and human flesh looks mighty tasty. Or maybe you're just turning into a ghost bent on vengeance. In any case, death is never fun.

6. Cybernetic Get captured by the Borg? Strapped to an operating table? Injected with nanites? Whatever happened to you, you're slowly turning into something half man, half machine, your squishy bits being replaced by mechanical components.

7. Lovecraftian You've heard their song, the terrors from beyond the stars, and even now they sing in your blood as your flesh transmutes into something ineffable and unknowable. You revel in the pain you feel even as you seek to spread it, to herald the end of all things... or maybe worse, you're aware of the transition as your mind becomes not your own.

8. Fusion/Hivemind You begin to fuse with the first person who tagged you – physically, mentally, or both. Soon, you can't tell who is who, which one of you is the real you, as your thoughts become one. Join in the fleshsong, mortal...

9. Inanimate Your body slowly petrifies and hardens, turning to stone, wood, glass, or something stranger still; or perhaps you liquefy, turning to some kind of liquid, or maybe you dissolve into the air itself.

10. Wildcard / Pick your own Pick whatever you like, combine a few options, or make up your own.

Meme originally posted by

teal_deer.

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[ Happy to start if asked, but I'd rather avoid animal stuff right now. ]

[Slow posting. Tl;dr would be especially loved. I'm also heavily voice testing]

(no 9 or 8 but otherwise good for anything. can start if asked)

[Would love to play around with body dysphoria associated with his arm, but ok with anything.

Crosscanon welcome.]

[Would love to play around with 1 or 2, but no preference.

Canonmates only.]

Slow posting and I'm fine with all options.

[ OOC disclaimer reported from the deleted meme earlier this week:

Happy to be the impetus to someone's body horror. This is a djinn in the traditional sense, who will undermine someone's wish and replace it with horror. Maybe a boyfriend wished you could learn to swim, and now you're growing gills. Maybe you wished to stand out and be noticed, only to find yourself growing tentacles.

Please note prefs or limits so I don't accidentally trigger anyone. Can play him as a male or female (or anything in-between) upon request]

[I've got Lazarus so I managed to dig out my reply again. Hope it works?]

The Wily 'bots were currently spread out through a fairground, mostly in disguise. Now, what Wily wanted with this fair he'd never explained - just told them to blend in and watch out for Mega Man. That was annoying - usually he did at least explain to Proto Man, and Proto worked better if he knew what was going on.

Proto had refused to wear a serious disguise. Guts Man and Cut Man were ridiculous enough in their mascot costumes, there was no way he'd be adding to their number. And while he was one of those few robots that could easily pass for human, his armour was like a second skin by now, and he needed his helmet's visor to actually be able to see; he'd tossed on a large trench coat over the top and said he'd hang out in the more deserted portions of the fairground and that was that, no matter how much Wily grumbled. Hell, maybe his lack of disguise would attract his brother - Proto wouldn't mind another fight, and that'd give Wily time to do whatever it was he wanted to do.

The problem was, now Proto was bored. Forget Mega Man, not even a random human had come this way in what felt like hours - there were just a bunch of small, abandoned attractions, nobody manning them, and a fortune-telling machine.

The latter was what he wandered over to eventually, peering half-heartedly through the grimy glass. Not like this would entertain him for long, but it was better than nothing - only the other problem was that he had no money, Wily 'bots rarely had use for it. Maybe he could jimmy open the internal workings? Probably taking it apart would be more interesting that getting his fortune told for hilarity value, anyway -

Conveniently enough, that was when his foot hit something with a dull clink. Proto scooped up a coin from the dirt pathway, flipping it above his hand, then shrugged and dropped it into the fortune-telling machine's slot.

[If you're alright with OCs, I have a changeling here who's already a bit inhuman but I could easily play him as human to start. I definitely like the idea of someone making wishes on his behalf (especially the swimming one) and him having to live with the consequences. How does that sound to you?]

[How much shit can happen to one guy? As if he hadn't dodged enough curveballs thrown by the universe. Now it was the middle of the night, he couldn't sleep, and there was an obnoxious tightness in his shoulders, as if he'd pulled or dislocates something. He grumbled and rolled onto his stomach. His body weight was making it painful to remain on his back. He'd get someone to look at him in the morning.

Except he couldn't sleep on his back. Too ingrained, too vulnerable. Desmond winced as he dragged himself out of bed. He needed something. Aspirin. Tylenol. Fuck, maybe Vicodin, by how bad he was hurting. He left his room and went wandering for the medicine cabinet, trying to roll his shoulders and pop his back to relieve some of the pain.]

[Ezio's just woken on a metal table covered by a thin cloth - who would waste so much good metal on a table? What's wrong with wood? - with his head pounding and his back aching. As he sits up on the examination table, he groans loudly and puts a hand to his lower back, trying to rub at his spine and relieve some of the pressure that seems to be building. The lights are too bright to be candles yet the wrong colour to be sunlight, harsh and exposing, leaving no shadows for an assassin to hide in. Through the headache, he realises his weapons have all been removed, even the carefully hidden ones such as the knives in his boots, along with his armor and outer robes, leaving him in nothing but his shirt and breeches.

All of these factors are making panic slowly start to rise in his chest, but he forces himself to keep his head. He needs to find out where he is, needs to find a weapon- but God, the pain in his back is starting to increase despite how he stretches this way and that. It starts out as a bad cramp, and then the sharper pain of a pulled muscle, and then it burns, like something's crawling under his skin and trying to get out. Soon his shirt is sticking to his body from the sweat that's built up and then he's tearing it off, trying to relieve some of that horrid sensation along his back. It's not enough though and he tries to get to the door, staggering and crashing into the walls as the pain sharply increases and draws a low groan that he barely stifles by gritting his teeth.

The door slides open automatically as he reaches it but before he can wonder at the sorcery behind it, the pain surges again and makes him cry out whether he likes it or not, leaning heavily against a wall while his hands try to reach his back, nails digging into the skin.]

[Desmond hears the scream, even with the escalation of deep throbbing pain in his own back. Fuck, what did they do to him? What are they doing to...whoever that was? He steels himself, doing his best to ignore it as he follows the direction of the sound.

His shoulders spasm violently before he rounds the last corner. Desmond cried out, throwing his hands against the wall to catch himself. Fuck that one hurt. Get it together, Desmond. There's someone else here and they sound way worse than you. There was a growing urge, to move a certain way, to let whatever was happening to him just take its course and maybe stretch, just to get it out, but he couldn't. Not yet.

He took a deep breath and kept going. Even though his back was still seizing in pain, he came up to the door, carefully approaching its occupant. Jesus, he looked bad. And...familiar.

Wait. Was that...]

...Ezio?

[The man snaps his head up, staring at Desmond with wild eyes as his nails dig into his skin, leaving red weals in their wake.]

Who are you? [Another wave of pain makes him shout, collapsing to his knees and something moves under his skin, bulging up against it along his back.] Where am I!?

[Desmond's eyes go wide at the sight of a bony protrusion moving around under Ezio's skin. He's reminded of Alien. And that's...definitely not good.]

....Holy shit...

[He gets that urge again, with another spasm of pain that leaves him reeling. Then another, making him nearly scream. He can feel it...a straining movement, like when your arm was pinned under you wrong when you slept. Whatever was wrong with Ezio, he had the same thing.]

...Desmond. [He answers when the pain passes, more or less. It's still an effort.] You're in...fuck. I don't even know where we are. Hold on...

[He goes through all the cabinets, looking. Pills would be too slow, but there was no morphine or similar injectable painkiller anywhere. He actually found Vicodin though, choking two pills down himself before going back to Ezio, trying to get two of the pills out of the bottle.]

Swallow these. It'll ease off the pain. I hope...

[The Italian snarls when the pills are brought to him, too pained and panicked to think rationally, let alone trust a man he's just met.]

Don't come near- [he begins, shaking his head, but then his eyes adjust to that world of black and white with traces of colour, smears of red all around them, lingering foot prints and marks all over the floor and walls, but Desmond, Desmond is blue, the one thing he can trust here. His defenses relax almost immediately, based on pure instinctive response at the colour and he reaches for the pills. The pain hits again though and instead he ends up grabbing the other man's wrist as he screams, writhing on the ground as the lumps reappear and shift along his back, stretching the skin and threatening to rip through.] Dio- get it out of me-!

[Desmond ends up dropping the pills when Ezio puts his wrist in a vicegrip. He's panicking just as much as Ezio now, staring in horror as...something starts straining to get out. He doesn't know what to do. They don't even have--

His gaze flicks to the drawers, his vision telling him that what he needs is in there. Ezio would probably hate him for this. He strained to reach while letting Ezio have his wrist, biting back a scream when the first real jolt of pain hits him. It fucking moved, and it wanted out. He fought it down, managing to pull the drawer out entirely, scattering cotton swabs and other tools. He grabbed the bottle of alcohol and a scalpel that fell out of the jumbled mess and shifted closer to Ezio.

His hands were shaking so bad he nearly spilled the alcohol all over himself. He got it onto a cotton ball and rubbed along the grotesquely swollen skin on Ezio's back.]

I won't lie... This is going to hurt like hell.

[He's panting, trying to tune out his own agony as another something tries to stretch outward from his shoulders. But he gets the scalpel in hand and cuts into Ezio's grotesquely swollen left shoulder blade.]

[As soon as the scalpel sliced into his back, Ezio gave another piercing scream. It wasn't because of the knife - he'd been stabbed far too many times for such a little thing to have much significance - but rather because whatever it was shifting under his skin lurched for the cut, trying to tear through the small opening created.]

Shit...!

[He hurried, making the cut bigger, pulling back the skin a bit to release whatever was trying to damn near kill Ezio. He didn't even wait to see what it was, just went and made the second cut as well in an attempt to relieve some of the poor man's agony.

Now if only he could do the same for himself.]

[As soon as the first cut is long enough, the thing shoots out, tearing the wound a bit longer as blood-soaked feathers and bone is finally freed. The enormous released wing flaps weakly, spraying blood over Desmond as well as their surroundings before falling to the ground, trembling as the second wing struggles against Ezio's skin to escape.

There's a strange sense of relief when the first wing extends fully, as if a cramped leg has finally been stretched out to relieve the pressure. He groans weakly:] Please- [feeling the second wing caught awkwardly and unable to get out. He even tries reaching around himself to try to grasp it and pull it out himself but he can't quite get to it.]

[That's...a lot of blood splatter. Good thing he wasn't wearing his jacket. And is that...what he thinks it is?

He looks where Ezio is trying to grab, what looks like another wrist caught under Ezio's skin. Fucking ow.

Desmond knows he's in a lot of pain, he knows that these...wings? Are they fucking wings?...are pulling his own skin taut trying to get out, and he's sweating and grinding his teeth trying to keep himself focused. He reaches in and coaxes the wing out, easing it out past the "elbow" so it doesn't tear anything like the other one.]

[The wing slowly works its way out and stretches out to its full length, giving a shake as the other had and moving jerkily to drape over the floor, the two making a macabre mockery of a long cape flowing from Ezio's back.

Oddly with the wings both out and the cuts bleeding slowly, Ezio feels a lot better for it, some of that sharp agony faded to a dull ache that he can think around. Taking several deep breaths, he slowly sits up and glances back at the wings, face pale in a way that has nothing to do with blood loss.

Right, he'll deal with that later- he's noticed that Desmond is also obviously in pain.] Is the same thing happening to you?

[Desmond set the scalpel down before he dropped it on Ezio's back. He was shaking, straining to keep his composure as he slumped away from his ancestor. His very much alive ancestor. Who now had fucking wings...]

Fuck...

[It's a small, strangled, pained noise as he slumps onto his side on the floor. Must not feel pain. Must not feel pain.

Only he is, and he has nothing to keep himself distracted. Desmond gave a hoarse cough before he choked out a loud scream, wings straining to break through overstretched skin. God he never thought he'd admit it to himself but he wanted his parents more than anything right now.]

[Well, that's answer enough. Ezio maneuvered his descendant around as best he could until Desmond was on his front. Seeing the wings straining to break free and genuinely worried the man might bite his tongue out, Ezio quickly grabbed the cotton and alcohol, swiping over the lumpy flesh before shoving his left wrist in front of Desmond's face.]

Bite down. [And that's all the warning he gets before the sharp scalpel is slicing in.]

Edited 2014-08-11 12:07 (UTC)

[It's not his intention to bite down on Ezio's wrist. He knows for damn sure that Ezio hasn't had any kind of modern vaccinations, for one. His logic train is immediately derailed when Ezio cuts into his skin. He cuts his own scream off by biting down on the wrist, trying not to break skin as the wing unfolds clumsily from his back, trembling and bloodsoaked.]

[The assassin clenches his jaw as Desmond bites down, focusing on the task at hand. Once he's sure the wing is fully out, he's slicing over the second one, dropping the scalpel on the floor before carefully dipping his fingers into the opening, grasping the wing and guiding it out.]

[Desmond lets go of Ezio's wrist as the overwhelming pain passes from him. What's left is an aching throb, small twinges of pain, and overwhelming fatigue in these fucking things. He's not like Ezio...he's never been in so much pain in his life, and all he can seem to do is just lay there on the floor and pray that it passes. That it's all a dream. That he'll just wake up and found that it was just a nightmare.

But he's not waking up, and the heaviness of the wings feels real enough.]

The hell did they do...? [He slowly brings his arms up underneath him, trying to pull himself off of the floor.] We...we should get out of here...

[Releasing Desmond, he gets up on weak legs and has a moment of feeling ridiculously off balance, wings actually flapping to try and help regain it. The things are massive and weigh enough to make it feel awkward, especially when his entire body feels tired and achey. Still, Desmond's right and they've got to get out, so he just digs his feet in and holds a hand out for his descendant to grasp.] Where is here?

I...I don't know. [He takes the offered hand and struggles to his feet, feeling disoriented from exhaustion and blood loss both. Focus...]

Hold on. We're going to need some of this. [He grabs a big and paws through the drawers and cabinets, grabbing gauze, more cotton, the bottle of rubbing alcohol, anything that he can think of that might help. He remembers the bottle of Vicodin, tossing it to Ezio.]

Take two of those. It'll help.

[He figures that the guy will be smart enough to outwit the safety cap.]

[That's what you think, but he's just been through an ordeal and a lot of blood loos. Ezio struggles with the damn bottle, twisting it this way and that until through some miracle he finally manages to push and twist and pills spray around in the process. He doesn't even have it in him to look sheepish or embarrassed, just taking two like Desmond said and chewing them with a disgusted face.]

[Desmond turns to see half the bottle on the floor and...shit.] Whoa, don't chew them. Just swallow. Sorry. ...Come on. [He takes the bottle and replaces the cap, pausing to lean on the door frame, blinking in an attempt to clear his head before he activates his Eagle Vision, tuning his senses to his environment.]

Where the fuck is everyone...? [He continues on with his bag, wings leaving trails of blood as the scrape along the doorframe.] We'll try the elevator...

Try furling your wings. [He might have said that a bit snappishly because that bitter taste is still in his mouth and he's aching all over and so damn confused about what's happening. He pauses to look behind him at his own wings, frowning in fierce concentration as he tries to get the long appendages to fold against his back so they won't be trailing blood everywhere.]

[He tried, of course. But he was more concerned with finding the elevator. Trying to ignore the pain. The Vicodin was finally kicking in though. Desmond sighed in relief at the sight of the elevator at the end of the corridor.]

There. It'll...it'll move down on its own. All we have to do is get inside and it'll take us... [He groaned, slumping against the wall to avoid falling over for the second time that night. He didn't know how much blood he'd lost. Probably a lot.]

...take us to the ground floor...

Not if we can't get to it first- [He grunts, grabbing Desmond's arm and slinging it over his shoulders to help drag the man the rest of the way to the lift. Once there he frowns at the smooth doors that don't open, glancing around with Eagle Vision before finally slamming his hand over the button at the side.]

[Desmond groans as he forces himself to stand upright. Everything hurts, he just wants to slump over and sleep, but he knows that they'll probably be waiting for them. Abstergo wouldn't let them just walk out of here if they could help it.

Once inside the elevator he mashes the button for the parking garage as fast as he can to get the doors to close. Now it's just...waiting.]

...Thanks.

It is too early for gratitude just yet.

[Ezio's not exactly sure about this box that's just shut behind them and started moving, but Desmond clearly isn't worried about it so he puts it out of his mind, focusing on the other man and how he's barely coping with the pain and bloodloss.]

Give me the bandages and I will cover your wounds.

[The way his wings are constantly twitching and spasming, that's an understatement. Desmond took out the bandages and handed them over. He figured there would be time to get all the blood off them both later.]

Fucking wings. What are they even trying to do...?

[And Ezio's here. In the present. How did they even manage that? It was obvious that they'd experimented on him...altered his DNA, maybe? Change the past, change the future. Whatever they'd done to Ezio, it had reverberated all the way to Desmond. Would Clay have ended up with them, too?]

...What do you remember? Anything from before you woke up here?

You know who did this? [He says it almost absently, more focused on bandaging up Desmond's wounds around the newly emerged wings to stop the blood.]

I remember retiring for the night at the Villa. Uncle Mario was outside, drinking with his men.

I have a good idea. A...a business, a guild of merchants all working together. Except the merchants in this case are Templars. They call themselves Abstergo now.

[The elevator stops and opens. Desmond takes a tentative step out into the parking garage. Oh. There's the guards. They're all laid out in clumps and clusters, very much dead. And whoever took them down was pissed.]

Jesus...

[Ezio's arm shoots out to pull Desmond back, eyes narrowed as he takes in the carnage.]

What in God's name...

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Since the last one was deleted...

Fujiwara no Mokou | Touhou | F/F if shipping

william whele | dominion | ota

Peter Quill || Guardians of the Galaxy

Sinbad | Magi | ota

Bucky Barnes/Winter Solider | MCU | OTA

Clint Barton | MCU | OTA

Danny Māhealani ᵵ Teen Wolf ᵵ OTA [M/M if shipping]

Owen Harper | Torchwood | OTA

Djinn | OC

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Desmond Miles | Assassin's Creed | ota | starter included!

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