bakerstreet | Sensory deprivation meme

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)

✖ 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)

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Her heartbeat changes, and her eyes open blearily. Nightmare? No. Not a nightmare. She spies the figure standing over James and is instantly on his other side, trying to put herself between him and them, one hand left of James shoulder to comfort him and make sure he was all right.

She shouldn't have fallen asleep, she thinks. She should have stood guard until someone came in to fill in for her. If anything had happened to him, it would be her own damn fault.

The nurse steps back, surprised by Sharon's reaction. She looks between Sharon and James, "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

James shifts a little, pulling his left arm free weakly. He has more control of his left arm than his right, thanks to the lack or organic matter to get in the way. "Sharon?"

Sharon heaves a sigh when she finally realizes that it's a nurse and not a Hydra agent. Of course, the two aren't mutually exclusive. "Make more noise next time. For now, what can I help you with?"

Behind her, she sets her hand on James' wrist. "It's one of the nurses."

Most likely.

She still can't quite believe he cares about her so much when she's such a paranoid mess.

"I'm just checking vitals." The nurse steps back again.

James shifts uneasily in the bed, is starting to lose mobility instead of continue to gain. "Sharon... something's..." He blinks, struggling to stay awake and aware. Was it a tranqilizer? More poison?

The nurse stares for a moment then bolts, ducking out the door.

Sharon moves after her a second too late; the nurse gets through the door, and Sharon stops, not wanting to leave James unprotected against anyone else. "Stop her!" She looks to the nurse's station. "We need help in here, now."

And if any of them are Hydra, she'll do worse to them than kill them. They'll wish she'd kill them.

She hurried back to James and takes his hand. "Tell me what's happening." She had to get as much information for the doctor as she could if he couldn't stay awake that long.

She can't believe she'd failed him again. She can't believe it.

James shakes his head, trying to stay awake. "I don't know... can't stay awake." There's the sound of a scuffle out in the hall but a few minutes later James's doctor is hurrying in.

"Well our fake nurse isn't going to be able to be questioned. We're trying to figure out what was in the needle. James, are you still awake?" He started checking James over.

James groaned and forced his eyes to stay open, but it was hopeless. She'd given him a tranquilizer of some sort.

Sharon grips his hand tightly. This cantbe happening. Hydra can't have found him. They can't-

"He said he can't stay awake. Doctor, if it was just a sedative, then we have to put as much of the building under lockdown as possible. It means they plan to take him. And we need to call in the Avengers. They are the only people with the clearance to move him, understood?"

Her words are lightning-fast, but she doesn't doubt that he catches every word. She only slows down when she presses her lips to James' temple. "Stay with me, James. Please stay with me."

Because if it wasn't a sedative, it was something worse she can't bear to lose him right now, nor can she bear to see him in pain.

The doctor nods, but James is already under.

The doctor listens carefully to James's heartbeat then turns as another nurse comes in, looking ashen. "Call Steve Rogers. Get him down here as soon as possible." She nodded and fled the room.

"So far it seems to just be a sedative. Normally his metabolism would burn through this in about fifteen minutes, but it's slowed thanks to the poison. We need to get him out of the hospital, can't have his presence putting the other patients in danger. Avengers Tower has great medical staff, he'll be fine there." The doctor looks up.

Sharon is already thinking about variables. James will be most vulnerable during transport. They should talk to Tony or Thor about air support.

Natasha chose a hell of a time to leave.

She wonders if Clint is still around.

"I'll take his file. We can't leave anything about him around for Hydra to get their hands on." She smooths James' hair with her fingers. She has to keep him safe. If they take him from her... She had to face it, though. They were likely going to kill her if she was with him. Or capture her and use her against him.

She has to keep him safe. "I need whatever weapons you might have, too. Anything. Guns, knives. Whatever I can use."

"There might be a few knives in the kitchen... But as far as I know, all of James's equipment was taken back to the CIA." The doctor keeps his fingers on James's pulse, eyes focused on his oxygen levels.

He turns as the nurse comes back. "We need to prep him to move. Now." She looks startled, but turns to call for help, "No, you're going to have to do it alone. There's nobody else I trust."

She nods and moves to James's side, also checking over his vitals.

"I'll help," Sharon says quickly. "Just tell me what to do."

Her faux-nurse's training had never covered anything like this. Now more than ever she wishes she'd done more. Learned more.

The nurse nods and starts getting James ready to be moved.

Steve is there ten minutes later, Clint as his heels and Thor not far behind. "Sharon!" He looks at James's unconscious body, the IV line gone from his arm, the oxygen line as well. "What happened? The nurse said there was an emergency." But James was still hooked up to the heart monitor, his heart rate and oxygen levels seemingly fine.

"Hydra got to him." Her voice shakes, and she doesn't take her eyes from James, the monitors, and what the nurse is doing. "I was asleep, and they- we think they just sedated him, but if they sedated him, it means they want him alive." She grasps James' hand, moving aside only when the nurse needs to be where she is, but she doesn't let go of him.

"It's too dangerous to keep him here, so we're moving him. The most dangerous part will likely be during transport. I'm staying with him." For the first time, she looks up, eying them and sizing them up. "Thor, I need you to take the air. Clint, you too. Your eyes are too good to waste anywhere else. Steve, you're with me and James. Hydra doesn't get close enough to spit on him, understood?"

There's very little doubt that, should any of them opt out, she will fight them to an inch of her life, supersoldier, Norse god, world's greatest marksman, or no.

Steve nods. He moves to Sharon's side, stroking her hair out of her face but makes no attempt to separate her from James. "We'll get him to the Tower, he'll be okay. We came in a quinjet, since Clint and I can't fly."

He looks to the nurse, "Is he ready to go? We're up on the roof."

She looks to James again, then nods. "He's as ready as he's going to be. But let me go with you. I can brief the medical staff there."

"That's up to Sharon." If Sharon trusts the nurse, then he's going to. There's no time to vet her properly.

"The doctor's getting me all of James' records." Sharon bites the inside of her lip. She didn't really trust the nurse; at the moment, she doesn't trust anyone at the hospital. "It'll be safer for you here," she says at last. "If you want to call and give them a heads-up, I'd appreciate it."

Unless she lies and tells them something that will hurt James. But Sharon won't let that happen. She's determined.

She looks up at Steve. She's grateful for his trying to comfort her. She doesn't dare tell him how frightened she is.

The nurse nods, apparently not upset at all by Sharon's decision.

Steve turns as the door opens and Thor and Clint both prepare themselves for attack (there was already an arrow nocked, but now the bow is drawn halfway and ready to be aimed. But it's James's doctor, a pair of thick folders in his hands. "Here," he says, passing over the folders. "One is his medical records and the other is all the information we have on the poison. I can't guarantee that the information wasn't copied, but we do have security cameras in the record room and it would have had to been signed out to take it from there, so."

He looks to Thor and Clint and Steve, "Let's get him out of here."

Thor stepped forward, "I will carry him. There is no time to waste with beds." He slipped Mjolnir onto his belt and ignored the nurse's protests about James's weight. Thanks to the arm and all the metal inside his body to support it, he weighed nearly 400 pounds. But Thor scooped him up easily, James's head resting on his armored shoulder. He was still unconscious and was going to be for a while yet.

Sharon stuffs the folders is the small bag of clothes Steve had given her. The room holds little else of herself or James in it. It's one of the times that it strikes her how much of a ghost she's become with her life.

She falls into step behind Thor, trying not to think of how weak and vulnerable James looks in his arms. She focuses instead on how Thor is now down some arms in a fight. She doesn't have any weapons. Their best chances are an archer and a guy with a shield.

It strikes her that while she's a ghost, she's a ghost who's apparently landed in medieval times.

"Thanks, doctor." She'd offer to call when they're settled, but she doubts she'd keep the promise. She doesn't want James compromised anymore than he has been.

She looks to Steve to get his take on the situation, but she's too busy trying to keep her eyes on their surroundings to look at him for long.

As they move down the hall, Steve in the front and Clint at the back. Clint reaches out to touch Sharon's shoulder. Then he offers his sidearm. "Here. I've got a full quiver, and you don't have anything." They're all hoping it won't come to a fight, but it's entirely possible.

But they emerge onto the roof with no fuss at all.

Sharon has never been so grateful to hold a gun, and her face shows it as she looks at Clint. It's good to be around people who understand.

She bites her lip in confusion when they make it to the roof with no trouble. Does Hydra intend to attack them in the air? Or had they expected James to be transported by ground and are now out of luck?

The roof wasn't deserted, though. There were four people on the roof, between the door to the roof and the quinjet. It was impossible to tell gender. They were all dressed in black body armor like the Soldier had been, hair cropped close to their skulls. They also wore the mask and goggles that the Soldier had worn.

Clint stopped dead right behind Sharon. "Shit."

James had been the best of HYDRA's weapons, but these four, he could see just by the way they stood, weren't far off.

Steve turned. "Thor, get James to the quinjet. Sharon and Clint you go with. Get James out of here. Thor and I will hold these four off."

Her eyes widened when she saw the figures step into the open, and she instinctively moved closer to James. She was gladder than ever that Clint had lent her a gun, and she turned off the safety without a second thought. Her expression turned shrewd as she watched the figures, sizing them up. She'd sparred with James for ages, and before her bout with Salazar, she'd been able to prop him up to some degree. She's weakened, but if it came to a fight, well. She knew how James fought. Knew they had likely had the same training. And Sharon wouldn't fight clean. Not with James' freedom, possibly his life, on the line.

At Steve's orders, she gave a brief nod. Or retrievers, as the case suggested. She lifted the gun and set her sights on one of the assassins. The gun slowly aimed from head to toe, looking for weak spots in the armor. Joints. Throat. Face. Not impossible. "Come on, Clint."

She set her free hand on Thor's elbow, signalling him that she was ready to move out.

Clint moved to take the lead, letting Steve move forward to try to distract the four.

But only three peeled off to deal with Steve, a trio that moved in perfect sync.

The one left went right for Thor, ducking the arrow that flew through the air. They were only interested in James, a knife appearing in either hand. Thor had no way to fight back, only to keep dodging the knives while also trying to get out of the way so Clint could fire off another shot, or Sharon could get a chance to aim.

She aimed for his knee and fired. She had to trust Steve to have her back as she moved to try and get between Thor and his attacker.

The bullets didn't seem to have any effect on the man, and Sharon bit her lip before pressing the gun to James' temple.

"Back off," she snapped. "Hydra wants him alive, right? It's going to be damn hard for Hydra to use James if he's got a hole in his head. Not back off."

She moved with Thor, hoping this would buy them time to at least get on the helicopter. There was no way they'd buy her bluff for long, but all they had to do was reach the helicopter. Their attackers wouldn't bring the helicopter down if they wanted James alive.

The agent stopped dead, expression unseen under the goggles and muzzle. They watched closely then dropped a knife and pulled a gun at almost the same instant. They lifted the gun to fire, but before they could pull the trigger, Clint let fly an arrow. The heavy broadhead speared through the armor and right through the agent's wrist. They dropped the gun from numb fingers and it was just enough time for Thor to get James into the quinjet. He settled James down then straightened, "I must help Captain Rogers," he said, and hopped off the quinjet, swinging Mjolnir with a boom of thunder overhead.

Clint ran for the pilot's chair, pulling up the ramp and starting up the jet. "Sharon, get him buckled in. Thor and Steve will be fine." There was nothing stopping Steve from hurting those HYDRA agents on the ground.

With a last worried glance toward Steve, Sharon hurried to strap James in as Clint instructed before twisting and shooting at the Hydra agents until her gun clicked. If nothing else, maybe the agents' distraction would help Steve and Thor. Once she's spent, she pulled the door shut and strapped herself in before checking on James yet again. His breathing was steady, and Thor, of course, hadn't let him be injured. She sagged in relief.

She grabbed the headphones and set the mic in place beside her mouth. The rotors were immediately quieted into a dull but constant thrumming. "How long until we reach the Tower, and is anyone there to help guard him while we get James situated? He might be too heavy to lift on our own, and he's definitely too heavy for us to move him and fight off Winter-Soldier-style assassins at the same time."

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god fucking dammit i thought i posted this right away after finishing it yesterday >(

DW hates you, lol!

apparently. ugh.

It'll have to learn to love you, that's all.

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