Walker (
thelongcon) wrote in
bakerstreet2014-09-25 01:16 pm
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Sensory deprivation meme
the SENSORY DEPRIVATION meme:
You know those things you rely on to navigate you properly through life?
Senses? Yeah, well, kiss those goodbye.

(TRIGGER WARNING: This meme deals with the loss of senses:
blindness, inability to feel. If the concept of blindness, deafness
and/or the loss of any of your senses bothers you, please do NOT play this meme)
You know those things you rely on to navigate you properly through life?
Senses? Yeah, well, kiss those goodbye.

blindness, inability to feel. If the concept of blindness, deafness
and/or the loss of any of your senses bothers you, please do NOT play this meme)
✖ Post with your character name/fandom/options for scenarios
(ie; het/slash fluff/smut) and your prompt.
✖ Use RNG to pick your numbers.
1-5 for regular senses, 6-10 for moral sense, 11-16 for cracky senses.
The Basic Five
1. Sense of Sight - Whether you woke up that way, had an accident, a brain tumor expanded or you had a bad reaction to something, you're now blind. Fully and completely. Watch out for that bu--*wince*
2. Sense of Smell - Did someone step in dog crap? It could be you, but you'd never know. You've lost your sense of smell. I guess there's no stopping by the roses for you, huh?
3. Sense of Hearing - "I'M NOT YELLING!!" Yes, yes you are. And no matter how loud you crank AC/DC, you're never hearing Highway to Hell again. Guess I shouldn't have gotten you the Stones compalition CD's, huh?
4. Sense of Taste - No, it doesn't taste like chicken. In fact, it doesn't taste like anything. Perfect time to get that friend that burns everything to cook for you - at least it'll make them happy and you can smile through the whole ordeal.
5. Sense of Touch - Where'd you get that bruise? Or that gaping knife wound? No clue. You have utterly lost the ability to feel anything, like your body is enveloped in fuzzy packing tape. Punch the wall all you want, you ain't gonna feel anything.
The Guiding Factors
6. Sense of Right and Wrong - Tripping people that get in your way? Taking candy from babies? Killing someone that hurt you and yours? All sound like pretty good ideas right about now. Your entire moral code has been thrown into the 'grey' area. There is no right or wrong, only what you want.
7. Sense of Decency - Things that just 'aren't done' are in play for you now. Evicting old ladies and orphans because they can't pay? Pff. Good. Lousy Mooching leeches. Hitting on that underage and naive little thing? Puh-leeze, they're an easy mark. Deflower, deport and debauch yourself to your heart's content.
8. Sense of Self - You don't even know who you are anymore. What are you doing with your life? What's it all mean? What the hell's it for? Why even bother to get up in the morning? Are you going to go try and 'find' yourself? Or just give up?
9. Sense of Preservation - Your life? Means about as much as a mouse fart. Why should you step out of the way of that speeding train? You were there first. Mouthing off to that huge, angry, overpumped steroid-faced goon sounds like a good idea too. He took your seat. And he smells.
10. Sense of Empathy - That ability that lets you put yourself in the shoes of others, to relate to them? Gone. No, you don't know what they're feeling, and quite frankly, you don't want to. You have your own things to deal with, and they're much more important. Why? Because they're yours.
The Quirky Ones
11. Sense of Humor - Wait, am I supposed to laugh now? You have to take your cue from those around you, laughing when they do, usually a little bit late and a little too long. Not even a fart joke will crack a smile.
12. Sense of Direction - You couldn't find your ass with both hands. Literally. You tried. And wound up getting thrown in the clink for inappropriate conduct with a nun. Don't drop the soa-- Too late.
13. Sense of Modesty - So what if you're using a belt as a skirt. It looks good, right? Bending over and showing off too much isn't an issue for you, neither is changing in the middle of the store if you just have to wear that cute little shirt now.
14. Sense of Fashion - Yes, you think a pink polka-dotted bikini top goes just smashingly with the neon green bellbottoms. Bubblewrap tops? Freakin' awesome. Put it on and flaunt it, and watch people's eyes bleed.
15. Sense of Timing - "What do you mean now's a bad time?" Yes, because you think trying to pick up a girl at her husband's funeral is a good thing. What? She's single. You're late to everything. A clock? Wassat? Strange, foreign words...
16. Mix and Match - You poor bastard, you've lost more than one sense. 2? 3? The whole lot? Who knows, that's up to you.
(reposted from memebells@lj, originally here)
no subject
In the end, she made them each a ham sandwich and carried them out. "Incoming," she said before setting his in his lap. "Ham sandwich. Hope you aren't a vegetarian. You want water, soda, or beer to drink?"
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As soon as the sandwich he started to scarf it down. It had been a couple of days since he had the time to get anything to eat. Large bites, barely seconds between bites. He didn’t even take a moment to pause to answer her question.
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She set her plate on top of his empty one and headed back to the kitchen.
Nothing weird about this at all, she told herself as she got a glass of water for him. After a moment's hesitation, she went ahead and poured him another.
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“Thank you,” he said as the second sandwich was handed to him.
He didn’t think that he would get a moment to finish one sandwich let alone two.
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"No trouble," she said after a moment. "I said I'd try to help, didn't I?"
She replayed the conversation in her mind, and then it dawned on her that she'd left out something significant. "I'm Sharon." She left out her last name. She didn't think it would help him as much as having any name, period, might.
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That was exactly what the soldier didn’t understand. He didn’t get why she would help him, why she would even think about helping him. It was in small part because of him that SHIELD had fallen. Maybe a little more than small part.
There was a part of him that wanted to ask what she wanted.
“Agent 13,” he said absentmindedly.
He was Hydra’s weapon. He was supposed to know all those that were against them.
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She sat on the edge of the table and watched him, tempted to ask what he'd known and simultaneously afraid that might trigger something. It might be better to focus on the present until he felt more comfortable with her.
"Is there anything else I can get you?"
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Although at the thought of Agent 13 coming to mind he thought that he shouldn’t say anymore. Not that he felt compelled to. He didn’t want to talk about SHIELD, Hydra, or anything to do with the two groups.
“I’m good,” he said as he sat there. He didn’t move. He didn’t know how she would react after he had just called her Agent 13.
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She got to her feet. "I'm going to get something for me to eat, then. Do you want me to take you to the bathroom for a shower or something?"
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The soldier might not have much to say but that was because he wasn’t used to talking with people. It wasn’t as if he was chatting up the cute girl at the grocery store. For years he was treated as a weapon, not a person, and now he was on the run from people that he was sure would have working as a weapon again. That was if they caught him and that was a pretty big if in his mind.
He raised his head as she stood. It was again as he was looking at her when he was just looking in the direction of the noise.
Extending his hand towards her. “If you could,” he said to the comment about walking him over to the bathroom.
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"Sure." She took his hand and tugged him upright. "It's this way." Again, she led the way, moving his hand in hers so he could feel any tables or chairs around him. Once they reach the bathroom, she briefly takes him around, putting his hand on the sink, faucets, the toilet, the hand towels, even the shower, describing it as best she can along the way.
At length, she set his hand on the door. "I'm going to get some food from the kitchen. Call if you need anything."
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He was standing in the middle of the room. Even before she left the bathroom he had already taken off his shirt. Showing off the full view of what Hydra had done to him. He set the shirt onto the doorknob.
“I will,” he replied. He doubted that he would need any help in the shower.
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She caught herself staring and quickly closed the door so he could have some privacy. She stood there with her hand on the knob for several seconds, her mind slowly processing what she had seen.
At length, she finally moved away and went to get herself something to eat. Her movements were slow and mechanical. The thought of what must have been done to him... She couldn't even imagine.