bakerstreet | BROKEN MEME

BROKEN MEME

broken meme

You may once have been a great hero, or a modest regular person. But something has pushed you past the limit. There's simply no going back to who you used to be. To be seen now, your friends, your family, would they even recognize you? Your savior was too late. The pain was too much. The pleasure was too intense. You've been short-circuited.

You're broken.

A. Post with the usual stuff! Note somewhere if there are any options you aren't okay with.
B. People can reply, with a roll for their characters or ask if you want to roll for yours in that thread.
C. Probably some triggers involved here. Read at your own discretion, etc.

1. Pain.
You've been pushed beyond your limits and become light-headed, 'floaty'. The sight of your own blood doesn't provoke a reaction anymore, and seeing a friend might cause you to smile, or talk strangely. You might not even recognize them. It doesn't hurt anymore. It's alright now.

2. Lust.
No, no, no became yes, yes, yes. Dignity and self-respect have faded, replaced by an insatiable and alien feeling of want. You've reached a point where shame doesn't even occur to you anymore. Your eyes seem out of focus and your smile doesn't look right. Look, I've made so many friends who like me...! Do anything to me if it feels good.

3. Shock.
What has been seen cannot be unseen. A revelation about a friend, a loved one, an enemy- something has shocked you in a way you can never reverse. It may change not only the way you look at someone or something, but also the way you see the rest of your life. I saw nothing, I saw nothing, I saw...

4. Oppressed.
What's it like outside my cage? Your spirit of rebellion or confidence has been cracked, and your rescuers might not be there in time to salvage what's left of your spirits. You've long since accepted that getting away from this oppression is impossible- Perhaps you've even become attached to it as the only way to live life. Yes, sir. No, sir. Sorry, sir.

5. Corruption.
Something has eroded you. You're not like you used to be. You're obsessive, your face is darker. You may even see who you were before as weak or useless. Whether it's a magic ring or Phazon infecting your body, you're going grimdark and it's looking a little too late to pull you out of it. This power is far greater than what I had before! To think I used to believe in justice!

6. Hysteria.
When you talk, you don't make any sense. Pure Charisma Break. Maybe you were a god stripped of your might, or you've suffered a terrible defeat. Either way your ego has snapped, leaving you a total mess and unable to function. But how could this be? How could I lose?!

7. Desperation.
Where before you were airy, confident, in control of yourself, you're now a ragged and fuming pile of hopeless anger. As a fighter you may have been careful or even graceful; now you swing wildly, strike without precision. You simply cannot accept the situation, cannot accept your own fall. It's not over! I'm still in control! I can still fix everything!

taken from here.

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Lindsey winced at the word. That... that wasn't what he wanted. "No..." he answered, looking confused and unsure and struggling to regain his sense of self. He was entering this too fast, making decisions when he hadn't been off the rack for more than an hour. How was he supposed to make a good choice when he could barely remember his own name? "I don't know... I don't know! I want... I want the pieces glued back together but I don't have all the pieces!"

"Thats because some of the pieces are gone, they stole them away and you can't get them back.". He moved forward, lightly brushing the man's cheek. "That's why you go train, make new pieces. You don't wanna be my slave Lindsey, be my little pet...tempting an offer as it is," he mumbled while looking the other man over. "It's degrading, it's dehumanizing."

Guided by the brush, Lindsey glanced up into the demon's face, nuzzling slightly against the hand in natural reaction. "I..." He didn't like the sound of those words that Dean was tossing at him, but, go train and... try to rebuild pieces? His mind kept cringing from that too. "...I like you." While it was probably Stockholm, he also couldn't pull together enough to care.

(( Tough decision... what to do with Lindsey. Any preference? There'd be a whole lot less interaction between them for a while if he goes away. He'll come back remade but not the lawyer he used to be. Stick around Dean and he'd regain some of his original personality since all the guy needs is a break to pull together. Though, not sure if Dean will take him in only for a short while then send him off again. ))

"You're insane, but I'll take it as a compliment," he smiled a little, he couldn't help it. The thing was cute.

((I'd honestly say its up to you since its your dude, which are you more interested in exploring? Crossroad Lindsey or puppy Lindsey? It's true Dean might get attatched, though I don't know if Sam would let him keep the thing. This is all weird because this story is sort of existing in an AU my Sam and I created so Dam knows about this because when Dean in thread says he's gonba go talk to the king about it, he actually has been....which probably sounds odd))

Lindsey sniffled back his tears and pouted slightly. He knew he was missing a few —a lot— of screws, but it would be nice to not be called insane. "What... what will being your pet be like?" He was honestly considering it. It couldn't be worse than being on the rack and he had suffered through that.

(( I'm assuming you an Sam-mun still keep ooc contact hence the ability to inform them of developments despite the lack of internetz? Or do you mean, something like this actually happened before in your AU? Either way, I do hope they get internet back soon... I really would like to meet Sam, assuming there's interest. Your stories sound awesome.

And, uh... let's play with puppy!Lindsey for awhile with the potential for him to go train later. Dean might want to let him go anyway when Lindsey starts getting his personality back and gets a bit more willful. He's totally Stockholming here. I'm also amused that Dean keeps thinking of him as a thing, and how we have two threads that are almost inverse of one another. ))

Dean frowned, confused again. "I don't know, I've never had one. You'd be my slave, you'd be whatever I want."

((Sam is my BFF irl, used to be my roommate actually. So my demon dean told her Sam about Linds.

Puppy Lindsey is fine with me, just hope Dean won't get too attached and punish him if he's willfull))

Lindsey should, if he was anything more than the broken quailing mess that he was now, turn away at this point. He used to be respectable, he used to valued, but Hell had ruined him completely of all that. Now even the thought of relearning all that had him shaking slightly.

Which meant to go with the choice of familiarity.

"...just yours?" He recalled the other demons trying to reach for him moments ago and he hadn't liked that. If he was going into this voluntarily... that meant he could ask first, right? He shouldn't... he shouldn't enter a deal without knowing all the rules. That was something he used to know.

(( Is that with or without the player knowing her Sam knows? XD ))

Dean seemed almost a little offended by the question. "I....well yeah. I don't share well...that's probably something you should know about me. Also my brother says Im insane..so there ya go."

((lol, yes she knows))

Lindsey nodded, looking somewhat reassured by that admission. "Don't want others," he agreed, feeling discomforted by the thought alone. "What's rule two?"

(( So when Dean says something about Sam, I'm guessing... he really meant what Sam said. XD Wait... seriously?! 10 years!? ))

"Seriously?". Dean shook his head. "If you'd be dumb enough to want to do this...I guess rule number two would be keep your mouth shut. When we're around demons you keep your head down and your mouth shut. You act up it looks bad on me and you get punished."

((lol, Sam just hated that dean got them involved, and once Lindsey was on the rack Sam said at least a decade. Now he doesn't care anymore, just likes dean distracted and not breaking things))

Lindsey was practically silent most of the time anyway, he didn't find it too hard. Although to be quiet the whole time? "But... when we're alone...?" He didn't want to be punished, all he could think of was the suffering he experienced on the rack.

(( Then Sam should be pleased that Dean's kept even busier with his new pet. ))

Dean shrugged, honestly not knowing the answer. He'd never had a pet before. "I don't know...I don't wanna listen to bitches, but I think silence would make me kind of crazy."

((no dean got lectured, because the selling point with this guy was "he 'll be an awesome crossroads demon!". And now he's goo after a year on the rack so boyking ain't impressed))

Lindsey flinched again at the word Dean used. Slave, bitch... it wasn't even used to be purposefully degrading, but just the way things are. "Dean... that's not..." No, not what he wanted at all.

He felt that spark of irrational anger flare in him again, narrowing his eyes and squaring his shoulders, but having learned from last time, he struggled to hold it from bursting.

(( I have this image of puppy!Lindsey stepping up to be a great crossroads demon when necessary, just, at his own pace and when he's actually needed. I mean, he has all the training needed really from W&H, they more or less undid all his training with the rack. Though... I'm not sure if he could even go through how dehumanizing it is to be Dean's puppy. ))

"Not what you want? Ok...then don't do it," dean shrugged. "Nobodies making you, this is all your decision."

(((yeah...kinda meant to type bitching, unfortunate typo. Being a demon pet just kinda is dehumanizing, thankfully Dean is weirdly nice and such, and taking care of something might make him less with the crazy. But Lindsey not willing to do that totally makes sense, is up to you))

"Is it too much to ask for a little bit of respect?" He snapped back before he could hold his tongue. He lowered his head immediately afterwards, but it wasn't so much out of fear as a sense of... loss.

But this much was clear, talking to Dean, even this short amount of time, was helping. A little. He wanted that, his old sense of self back, not get remade into whatever Hell wanted him to be. He wanted to be himself.

"Fine, your... your slave. Bitch."

(( Okay, bitching isn't too bad. Bitches though, might as well roll with it now. XD Anyway, I have no trouble with putting him in that position, but he has a lot of trouble with being reduced to nothing... But looks like I just figured out his reason. ))

Dean snapped his fingers, sending Lindsey to the ground and pinning him there. "Yeah, it is too much to ask. You want respect? You go out and earn it. You wanna be somebody's pet? You sign your dignity away. Most are kept naked, I'd at least give you some clothes. Just remember, I don't need the rack to break you."

((is there anything you're genuinely not ok with? Just so I know. ))

Lindsey was down before he could gasp in surprise, and he stared up at the demon suddenly pinning him. Was this what he was signing up for?

He whimpered from the onslaught of fear being held in such a position, but there was something else too when he looked up at Dean. A spark. Just a flash in the blue.

Yes, he would suffer this if it would bring him back.

So he nodded. His willed his body to go slack under Dean despite the sour tinge of fear that still surrounded his soul. "O-okay... Th-thank you. For clothes."

(( No. Like... seriously, no. Probably besides the fact to ask me to be a nasty dom because I seem to have trouble playing completely heartless characters. You can go the full nine when I play the receiving end. As long as it's reasonable for it to happen (ie: slave training requiring bathroom scenes) I'm okay with it. I might just gloss over physical details and stick to emotions for things I'm less eager about. ))

Dean frowned down at the man before releasing his mental hold on him. "You're on board again? You can't seem to make up your fucking mind.". He really didn't want a project, nor did he need this little fucker getting him in trouble.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his head, trying to come up with an idea. "Ok, look....you spent a year on the rack, which is pretty much nothing, so how about if you really want to do this we'll do it for another year. After that you can go start training, how about that?"

((cool, sounds good))

Somewhere in the very recess of his shattered mind, there was a piece that wondered if a year was too long. But he nodded anyway, that piece being too far and too buried for him to listen to.

"Okay..." He made a noise that was like a soft laugh as he sat up. "That's... I wouldn't have been dead for a week." His laughing somehow turned to crying as he tried to get a hold of himself. "That's messed up."

"It is,isn't it? Took Sam a year in Earth time to come find me, sorry if I have trouble being sympathetic," he shrugged, staring down at the new things he guessed he owned now. "So we got a deal?". He held out his hand for another shake.

Lindsey couldn't imagine that. If two years didn't make a week... a year would be... His mind hurt from trying to think so much. It was a long, long time, that was for certain.

"Yeah... deal." He reached up to clasp Dean's hand yet ended up hissing and trying to pull back when the pain of the new deal seared itself onto his skin. "Ow!" It seemed to hurt more than last time, as if it was required to wipe out whatever happened when they last clasped hands.

Dean snapped his fingers and they were back in his room. He released the mans hand and looked him over for a minute, trying to decided what to do. "No way in hell Sammy is gonna let me get a room for you, guess you'll have to stay in here. Don't fuck it up."

Lindsey quickly shook his head. "Don't need room..." he said quickly. He already felt like laughing just because he could be here, not out there, and not kept chained up on a wall or hanging from meat hooks or stretched on the rack.

The joy of it came out in a nervous chuckle anyway and he slowly got up from where he was now sitting on Dean's floor. He brushed himself off with one hand, then looked as lost as Dean was as to what to do with him.

"Thank you..." And he was honest and sincere in his gratitude.

"Yeah...sure no problem," dean mumbled as he continued to look over Lindsey. "Alrgiht just...stay out of people's way and stay invisible, you'll be fine.". He started to turn away to settle on the couch but stopped a the last second. He snapped his fingers and suddenly Lindsey's missing hand materialized. "I don't want a gimp pet."

This time Lindsey did break out into tears of joy when he, for the first time in two years, got his hand back. It didn't matter that he spent most of last year missing various body parts, he still marveled that his hand was responding when he flexed his fingers.

Lindsey scrambled over to the couch moments later, settling down on the floor because he wasn't sure where Dean wanted him to go. Then laying his head on Dean's lap, he cried and kissed the demon's knee and whispered, "Thank you..." several times in a row.

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