bakerstreet | lights out

lights out

LIGHTS OUT
a dark room meme

Uh oh! Looks like something weird is happening, here! Did someone forget to pay the electricity bill? Or has that storm outside caused a blackout? Who knows! Reasoning aside, you are now trapped in darkness. You can't see anything, anything at all! And you can't even adjust to this darkness, for some reason! There's only black, black, black. Something about this room is odd, for certain!

How this is going to go down
♦ You will post as your character as ANON, because you're in the dark!
♦ There is no putting your character's name in the subject line. However, if you like, you can put your character's series/canon. It's no fun if you know who you're interacting with right away!
♦ You're free to set up your character fumbling around in the dark and such, just so you remember which comment is yours in this anon mess, if anything.
♦ Those who reply to you will roll the RNG for the specifics of the situation!
♦ Yay! In the dark shenanigans!!
♦ When you guys are ready, the lights go on, you can log into your character journals, and it's time to admire the awkward in the light.

♦ ONE: WHY IS IT SO SMALL AND CRAMPED IN THIS ROOM? Wait, this isn't a room, this is a closet. It looks like you've been locked inside for Seven Minutes in Heaven, or just for shits and giggles! The door doesn't seem to be opening, and it sounds like some ... Barry Manilow is playing? Oh, talk about awkward.
♦ TWO: BRR, WHY IS IT SO COLD? Looks like your clothes are missing! For some reason, you're only dressed in your underwear, or even commando if you feel like being really mean to your muse. Are you in bed with someone? Just can't find your clothes? Are THEY wearing your clothes? Up to you, because it really doesn't make it any less awkward.
♦ THREE: A LITTLE HANDSY: Did someone just cop a feel? There's a lot of accidental (or... not accidental groping going on, for whatever reason! Talk about an awkward situation, mmmhmm!
♦ FOUR: OOPS, STUCK! One of you is stuck somewhere in this room, and can't get out! Either in a hole in the floor or tied to a bed or something! Whatever you can think of! Hopefully the other person can help you out in the dark.
♦ FIVE: ON AND OFF! Rather than totally darkness, the lights are flashing on and off, creepily. And it looks like there might be monsters in there with you guys?! Or are those illusions?

If you don't want to roll the RNG, that's fine! Go ahead and create your own situation, if you'd like!

Have fun, everyone!

(originally posted here at memebells)

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Oh, I've got an idea, all right.

And the music just wouldn't stop.

"Seven Minutes in Heaven," she muttered, blushing, and grateful for the dark because it meant this stranger couldn't see. "Unless you have any other ideas."

"I've no idea what that is." He grimaced. "Goodness but that music is getting loud."

Oh, he was going to see someone bleed for this.

"It's-- it's someone's idea of a real bad joke, is what it is."

But her powers were gone, maybe it wasn't such a horrible joke as it was still... cruel. To give her this ability without allowing her any choice in who she would be able to touch. Gawd, it made her want to-- it just wasn't fair.

She took a deep breath. Time to man up. She moved to face him, "It's a game teenagers play." Between that and the music... "Do I really need ta spell it out?"

"I have no idea what teenagers on Midgard do for fun," he said dryly. "Nor have I had any desire to close that gap in my knowledge. Last I saw, those of that age were considered adults anyway."

"...you have no idea how weird that sounds, do you."

"Considering I am the one who spoke it, no."

"Teenagers in 'Midgard,' whatever that means, do the same things for fun I imagine teenagers anywhere do - make out with an' humiliate each other."

She sighed, her shoulders slumping. Great, I'm stuck in a closet with an alien. I bet he has tentacles.

"'Seven Minutes in Heaven' combines those two great traditions." One first thumped against the wall behind her in aggravation at the music that just kept thrumming through the closet. "An' lousy music, apparently."

He huffed out a sigh. "Oh, I'm sorry, too old fashioned? Earth. What a dull name."

"Lovely. Well, I'm not at all interested in being humiliated for anyone's entertainment. They'll grow bored eventually and then revenge might be exacted."

"I happen ta like it! At least then I know what you're talkin' about! We work hard enough ta save the dang thing, we might as well get ta call it what we like."

She did not have claustrophobia issues, thankfully. And equally thankfully, right now the only issues she had were her own. And they were plenty loud enough, standing next to a man who something told her she should be able to remember who was saying that kissing her would be humiliating.

Well. It would be. For both of them. She could recognize that.

But it was still insulting!

"An' fine! You just stay over in your side of the closet, then!" She moved to claim her own corner, unfortunately brushing very thoroughly against him as she did so. She didn't care. "If the idea of kissin' me for seven minutes is too humiliatin' for you, then you can go over an' bang your head against the wall to the beat, for all I care."

"You are the one that said the intention of this was humiliation," he snapped. "You always--"

...always what? Why had those words even slipped from his mouth?

He drummed his fingers against the wall and let the words flow naturally to their conclusion. "...always acted as if I were some sort of shameful secret."

Hm.

That shut her up. Yes, she'd had a horrible feeling that she should remember this person, bu she hadn't expected that feeling to be returned.

Her voice was cautious when she spoke, "What are you talkin' about?"

...belatedly, she realized that she could be locked in a closet with, not only a tentacled alien, but a crazy tentacled alien, and with the lack of room to maneuver and without her powers, any conflict would end towards the person with more strength. She was betting on the alien.

Unless she had a weapon. Maybe one of those hangers?

Better to wait and see. He hadn't threatened her yet, after all.

He sighed. "I don't know."

He scrubbed at his face with one hand. "I feel as if I ought to recognize you. Most disquieting."

"I think I'd remember you," her voice was subdued. "'Magic' ain't exactly a normal thing on Earth."

She'd almost called it 'Midgard' for him, and wondered at herself for the impulse. She wasn't usually given to making things easier on anyone else. But she could sense that 'disquieting' was just the surface issue and this song just went on repeat, good Gawd!

She took a breath, tried to think, "But if it makes ya feel any better... I've been havin' the same feelin'."

She bit her lip and made a decision, holding out her hand to where she approximated the side of his face might be, "Don't freak out, okay?" She sought to touch his cheek.

"I'd like to think I'm rather memorable," he said, tone dry. "And I don't think it makes me feel better. But less potentially mad, perhaps."

He sucked in a quick breath at the touch, glad that she had warned him. But it wasn't unwelcome. Rather, it felt nice, right almost. He half-lifted his hand, hesitated, then allowed it to complete the motion. He covered her hand with his, turning his face slightly into the touch.

"I... feel as if we have done this before."

Her hand is gloved.

"Well, that'd be a sight," heart pounding rapidly, she felt her voice sounded somewhat tight in her attempt to be casual, but there really wasn't anything she could do about it, "seein' as I've never played this game before in my life. An' usually I can't... touch people."

But it felt familiar to her as well. And caught up in it, she forgot to be afraid.

The glove felt very familiar. His thumb found the top of it, tracing that line and lightly brushing skin. "But you can touch me. You always can."

She gasped at the contact, the lack of pull that came from his thumb brushing along the outside of her wrist. And she shivered at the touch, her heart clenching at his words. Something in them felt so true, so heart-achingly desirable and hinted at great pleasure and pain.

She wet suddenly dry lips, "I... don't know how that could be." She exerted a light pressure against his face, suddenly wanting desperately to see his eyes. "What you're sayin' is impossible."

"Oh dearest," he said, breathing that out like a sigh. "With magic, anything is possible."

There should be a retort for that. Maybe even five, and she could pick and choose which one she wanted, if she'd be kind or cruel and why.

But there wasn't.

There was just the heat that suddenly shot through her and coiled low in her stomach at the way he breathed out that word. Dearest.

Why? Why is that so familiar? Why did she feel like she knew this?

Her lips moved to form a name she didn't recognize, and it didn't make any sense, and how terrible to be wrong and hurt him, insult him, no, she wouldn't risk it-- "Oh."

Come on, girl, get yourself together.

"Guess... I won't need the gloves, then."

None of this should have been emotionally engaging at all, and he wasn't certain why it was to begin with. He cleared his throat, licked his lips, laughed as he tried to figure that out. "It would seem not."

He released her hand, tracing a line up her arm to her shoulder, neck, then cupped her cheek.

She made a small sound when he made contact with her cheek, something about the way he ran his hand up her arm filled her with memory and expectation. But this was impossible. It was impossible!

...but she could feel his hand, warm against her cheek, and she leaned against it. She didn't quite dare to believe it was happening, and she craved more at the same time.

"This doesn't make any sense," her gloved thumb caressed along his cheekbone, her hand other hand coming up to trace the other side of his face, attempt to 'see' him.

"Magic." He laughed.

He brought his other hand up to cup her cheek as well, carrying out that same exploration along familiar lines. "I remember this beloved face," he murmured.

Not as much as he wanted, but enough. He held her face carefully still and leaned down to press his lips lightly against hers, almost an experiment.

She didn't move to intensify the kiss. She just stood there for a moment and trembled, her heart racing.

Beloved face. There was something frightening in that... because she believed him. Because this felt too familiar, too real to be a dream.

She tilted her head then, to lightly respond to him on her own terms, a pleasant pulse of attraction rippling through her at their kiss.

Her hands slid from his face to behind his back. Resting her forearms on his shoulders, she shed first one glove, then another, allowing them to drop on the floor. She moved bare hands back to tangle in hair that she somehow knew would be long and too close to his head. One hand curled into a loose fist while the other slid back around to rest on his shoulder.

He breathed out a soft sigh against her lips, then placed another kiss delicately. His thumbs moved over her cheekbones.

Somehow, he'd been afraid she would reject that. Perhaps reasonable enough, for a stranger in a closet. But it felt hard-won, as if he had been rejected many times before.

But not any more. Mine. The hand in his hair felt like a confirmation of that.

Almost reluctantly, he let one hand drop from her cheek, but he slipped his arm around her waist instead, tugging her closer.

It would only be reasonable to pull back now and ask for his name. The lack of tentacles was a relief, however she had enough experience with the uncanny to know that the sense of familiarity she felt shouldn't be trusted. In fact, it was that very sense of familiarity that felt as if it came with some sort of warning attached.

But no, when he slid one arm around her waist, she shivered and moved towards him willingly. She had been reasonable for far too long. And now she was locked in a dark closet with a man who could kiss her and called her beloved, who she felt in her bones was someone she cared for. She could be reasonable later.

She stepped close, flush against him. She responded to his kiss, allowing her head to loll in whatever direction that would help keep his lips on hers longer.

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