bakerstreet | A Picture is Worth... Meme.

A Picture is Worth.... Meme
This ain't your mama's meme. Forget your RNG, forget your tired old prompts.
A picture is worth a thousand words.
It's easy. Comment with your character. Then go comment around.
But instead of pre-filled prompts with words or numbers, you find a gif or image (any gif/image from any canon or scenario you please) that sets the scene.
The picture is the prompt.

WARNING: THIS POST WILL BE IMAGE HEAVY. AND POSSIBLY NSFW AND THERE MAY BE TRIGGERS.
Some images will not be able to be hidden behind cuts, so please be aware that triggery material may be found within.

If you post an image that is violent or sexual in nature please LINK it, do not embed it into the comment.

Feel free to use this template to stick your image in there.

Good resources for images/gifs are weheartit or tumblr. For not so safe for work gifs/images go here and here.

Original Meme here.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

TJ lifted his brows, canting his head to one side as if in agreement. It wasn't easy, that much was true. "When you stop partying, you stop getting invitations. I get a few, still, but not many. It's better. I've been catching up on reading and some weekend travel."

"That sounds almost dull," she responds, but with a genuine good-natured smile. "Though I'm sure some would say it's better for your health."

An air of the sardonic, there. A bit of understated sympathy for the fact she's sure he's hearing a lot of concern over his 'health' these days, and us probably sick of hearing it.

Not that, admittedly, at the moment she's doing much better. "But, that's enough. I'm sure a change of subject is in order." She laces her fingers together almost primly, and gives him an encouraging smile as she rearranges her face. "I dominate enough conversations, anyway. I should ask if there's anything you would like to talk about."

TJ grinned, partly glad for the change to topic, but more because it was astute of her to realise how little he liked being discussed. Sure, he'd talk about himself, but most of it was bravado and masks to hide how much a lifetime of unwanted attention affected him. Maybe he imagined that she saw that, but even if it was only a figment, he still appreciated it.

"Well, I know so little about you. How about... What do you do for fun? Are there things you can't do now that you used to enjoy?"

"Hmm, things that I can't enjoy. The bygone entertainments of yesteryears," she paraphrased his question, musingly. She only had to consider it for a beat with a thoughtful smile on her face.

An amusing thing: so many people claimed to be bored by history, and yet whenever they brushed up against a firsthand source, so many became newly fascinated. Maybe they just needed the extra incentive to make it come alive.

"Honestly, if there's one thing I really do miss," she answered, slouching in her chair elegantly with one arm over the back, "it's the days of the writers salons. All those creative intellectuals in one room, talking and laughing and making witty remarks at one another's expense. Sharing ideas and feeding off of each another's creative energy." She sighed with a note of wistful experience. "You don't get very much like it, nowadays. When you get intelligent people together it's either for a conference or they all want to show off."

TJ hummed thoughtfully, nodding as she spoke. It may not seem it, but he was actually paying close attention to what she said. It was as if he could put together the mystery that was her by gleaning little details. In truth, someone could spend a lifetime listening to Katrina and still not figure her out completely. There was something in her air and her voice that kept TJ enraptured. She was, for lack of a better description, other worldly to him.

"I think we're afraid now," he mused. "Afraid someone else will steal the idea or make money off it or something. It's a lack of trust. We want to hoard everything, including ideas, these days."

"I've noticed. You people say yours is the more materialistic age, but it isn't that. Other eras were just as wild about possessing objects of wealth and luxury." She gestured against the table, spreading her hands out, laying one flat. Her fingertips curved enough against the tablecloth when she tapped for her nails to evoke the image of claws. "But nowadays it's this frantic obsession with owning things, keeping them, hoarding them like a particularly cluttered and useless dragon's treasure. It's all about domination."

A perverse pathetic domination, she thought more specifically but did not add. The pyramids were before her time but even she could appreciate their lesson. And what did the 21st century would-be pharaohs have? Wall Street and blackberries. Commissioned memoirs and yachts. Sad, really. How far out of balance had come the sense of scale.

"Is it new? The possessiveness of ideas, I mean?" TJ wondered about that. He didn't think people, at their core, were really all that different. Creature comforts, signifiers of wealth and power, those were the things that varied between cultures and ages. But it seemed to him, at least from what he remembered, that the exchange of ideas was encouraged more at some point in the past.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." Her tone turned musing, more inwardly reflective. "It's true that in the older days the idea of litigation over an idea hadn't yet been invented - so who really knows. Maybe that was the only thing standing between those old poets and play-writes and a copyright lawsuit."

It was, frankly, an admission that annoyed more than she wanted to show. She liked to believe that there really had been a time where the sharing of ideas was more free. Where theft only left creative souls mildly vexed before moving on to come up with something new.

"So really the only thing that's changed is the technology and fashion? We're pretty much the same?" There was something TJ found a little comforting about that. It was the height of arrogance to think they were somehow better than their predecessors.

It was a complicated question. But one that didn't necessarily demand a complicated answer. Some things could be summed up much more...succinctly

"At the heart?" She lifted her eyebrows slightly. And raised her water glass again, as if in toast. "Yes. People never really change," she said with a faint sardonic smile.

An observation that she generally believed held true for individuals as well as the species. But it was a rare form of evolution indeed that took less than time than a passing generation.

Oh, no doubt it was complicated. And a broad sweeping generalisation about every human being who'd ever lived couldn't possibly do them all justice, but it was still nice to hear that human nature was human nature, then and now.

"What about you? Were there ever more like you?"

Her expression flickered. And she made a point to take a slow sip of her water before responding, thought not in a way precisely that made it look like she needed time to gather her thoughts.

More like it was a subject that warranted a pause.

"There were," she said slowly, "once. Though I can't quite say how many. It was always more of a solitary race."

And her life, earlier, before she learned to take on another form, was not nearly as clear. She honestly couldn't say exactly when she began. There was a large chunk of time that was hazy at best, while her thoughts were still sentient but more...animalistic. Seasons came and went, and there was nothing but the hunt.

She set her glass down again, hands moving almost primly to her lap. She sat up especially straight, as if giving testimony or statement at an interview. And she sighed. Her voice took on a mediocre weary note.

"And now, it honestly wouldn't surprise me to learn I was the last. I haven't seen another in, oh - a very long time."

A Picture is Worth... Meme.

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