bakerstreet | The Things That Bump in the Night Meme

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The Things That Bump in the Night Meme

Things That Go Bump in the Night: The Meme

They're the things that go bump in the night. As long as man has been telling stories, they have been passing along tales of the dark, the supernatural, the otherworldly. And it seems they're recruiting.

Maybe it was a science experiment gone wrong. Perhaps something bit you. Maybe an ancient ritual tainted your soul and transformed you into a servant of darkness. Or maybe you've always been this way. Whatever you thought you knew before, you're one of Them now. What happens next?

Rules (Do you guys even need these anymore?):

1. Post with your character name, fandom and preferences.
2. People reply to you using RNG (or not) to pick an option; up to you which character is affected by monstrosity - maybe both are!
3. Roleplay
4. Have fun!

1. Zombie. The quintessential undead. Zombies are reanimated corpses created sometimes by ancient shamanism, and other times by biological experimentation. Their mobility has eroded, higher brain functions decomposed into the basest instinct. Their continued survival revolves around sating their irrepressible need for human flesh. May or may not come accompanied by an apocalypse.

2. Vampire. The human leech. Vampires are an affront to religions, burned by the purity of sunlight and holy water alike. They prey on weaker humans, draining them of their blood. Many vampiric stories suggest that they are striking figures, with eyes capable of dominating the will of others. Feel free to supplement this with your canon's vampire conventions of choice (even the sparkly kind if the mood strikes you!).

3. Demon. Hell is a very real place, with a host of native creatures that specialize in the misery of and torture of mankind. There are the demons who seek to make contracts and collect human souls, and the mischievous oni. Terrible temptations come from demons like the sex-infused incubus and succubus. An then there are the less-humanoid creatures, like the two-headed Cerberus and multi-limbed tentacle creatures...

4. Mummy. In some cultures, a person of importance is revered even in death. Their bodies are rigorously maintained during the mummification process, ensuring that the deed will be forever preserved in in all their splendor. Do mind the Mummy's Curse though. They're said to be terribly fatal.

5. Werewolf. The passionate canine hybrid. After suffering the bite of one, hapless victims are swayed by the pull of the full moon, transformed into grotesque wolfmen lacking human sentience. How will you handle your curse?

6. Creation. Think about that abomination Frankenstein created. A brilliant scientist tries to play God and strings together the corpses of a dozen dead bodies to create life from death. Or perhaps the scientist had different motives in mind. Was your brain placed into a new body? Have your genes been spliced into some other inhuman beast? Or is this your first moment alive as a tabula rasa waiting to be educated anew? Beware the pitchfork-waving mob.

7. Plant Creature. They say plants grow better when people talk to them. Sometimes they just grow hungry. Sometimes they grow curious. And sometimes prolonged contact leaves a person feeling different about the world. Whether your concern is sex pollen or just in an ordinary Happening, be kind to the clorophyll-filled creatures in our midst.

8. Faeries. Beware the fey folk. They are the trickster creatures of folk legend, tiny winged things that find their joy in mischief. Faeries are nature's tricksters, merrily tangling the hair of sleepers and stealing small-but-important belongings just to watch the chaos that erupts from their disappearance. In particular, a faery ring holds tremendous charm: humans are known to stumble into them and be lured into dancing with the pixies until they either die or fall to madness.

9. Ghosts. People like to tell themselves that frightening noises can be attributed to mundane things, like house settling. Those people are deluding themselves. Ghosts are the spirits of the restless dead, who have much to accomplish but very little sway over the earthly coil they used to inhabit. Be it a poltergeist or other remnant of the spirit world, tread carefully. Some have been known to stop at nothing to achieve their goals, including possessing living bodies.

10. Sea Creature. It came from the black lagoon. Some of them are the mutant result of toxic waste dumping. Other sea creatures, like mermaids, are carefree nymphs who just don't understand that not everyone can breathe underwater. And then others, like the Sirens, simply enjoy the delicious taste of human flesh. And if you happen by a lake, take care around old Nessie. She can be just a bit irritable sometimes.

11. That frightening noise in the distance is something else entirely. But the calls are still coming from inside the house.

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She's fine. She's with -

[Them. She asked to stay with them in the meantime. And Emma feels guilty for doing that, but she would have felt worse if she hadn't.]

She and Henry are at learning night.

[That's a little better, isn't it? She leads him out, back into the kitchen, and even though she doesn't want to, she finds the lights and flicks them on.

Which would be fine, if he was. But when she gets a good look at him...]

What the hell did Cora do to you?

[ All this time in the dark, the light sears. Luckily not in any real sense, but it's too much too quickly, and a hand flies up to cover them as he lets out a hiss. No, it's just too quick, that's all. Give him time to adjust and he'll be fine.

Just fine. He swallows hard, a hand going to the counter edge to steady himself. If only he could stop that beating in his head, it's driving him mad. Shaking his head he tries to focus on her words instead. ]

...she came. Looking for Regina. I told her I wasn't going to be any use to her and she...well, you saw.

[ Blindly, he gestures behind him to the cabinet. ]

She kept me alive, but...I don't know. I don't know what else she did.

I do.

[But the words won't come. It doesn't matter how long he's been in there, he shouldn't be so pale, or so cold. He shouldn't have survived it unless the box was enchanted, or...

She doesn't know how to tell him, but he should know. Doesn't he sense it, doesn't he feel different? They need to find a way to fix him, they don't have time to fool around, but -]

Why didn't you tell her anything?

Because I'm an idiot, obviously.

[ He brushes his momentary bout of bravery off for this moment, finally drawing his hand away and letting things slide back into focus. Almost too much focus, really. Details pop brighter and sharper than ever, and his gaze shifts at last to Emma.

His eyes shouldn't be that blue. They fix on her and don't budge, because it's like seeing her fresh all over again. Beautiful and strong and full of magic...she can make him better. She can make the pain stop.

His tongue presses against the inside of his cheek before he continues. ]

There are, ah...spells for preserving someone indefinitely. Regina used one before, maybe...

You're not an idiot.

[He was helping them. And that hits Emma hard, because he pays the price for everything he does, selfish or selfless. She does too, if weeks spent in a portal were any indication, but this wasn't his fight; it was hers. Any effort from him to fight alongside her just makes her wonder why he would do that.]

Maybe she used one on you?

[No, it's not the same as being preserved. It's all wrong. She shakes her head, leaning back against the counter as she tries to collect her thoughts. She can't focus and keep her attention on him, so her eyes wander over to Grace's artwork on the refrigerator, to the teapot, to anything.]

We'll fix this.

Edited 2013-01-30 04:48 (UTC)

[ She's almost in touching range, and then she is. The movement is quick and silent, and then he's there at her side. She throws off warmth like a witch's pyre, and that beat won't leave his head.

He's never been able to -- ]

...you should go.

[ Even as he says it, a hand reaches for her shoulder, brushes her hair back over it in an unnaturally smooth motion. It'd be so easy to just grab, prey too foolish to run.

If she tries to move away, it'll be instinct to hold her right where she is. ]

[Emma tries, of course, and then it's his grip instead of his hand in her hair.]

Doesn't feel like you're going to let me.

[His touch sends a shiver up her spine, and even if the sensation is familiar, there's no warmth there now. He's cold, dead, and she tilts her head to keep her hair back so that he doesn't try that again.

She knows she should go, but what would he do if she attempted it again? What would he do if she managed to leave? She knows she has to get him help, but she has to keep him calm, too. He's still in there, as strange as this is.]

What do you want me to do?

...I don't know.

[ She's leaned back against the counter, nowhere to run to. Weak as he is he could hold her if he needed to, long enough to...

To what? She's not some rabbit he's hunting in the woods, it's Emma. But the effort to remember that conflicts with the craving dictating his body's movements. He's made no move to hurt her yet, but it feels like that's becoming a matter of less consequence by the second.

His gaze remains pinned to her, like a butterfly on a corkboard. Then his brow knits, his fingers curling surprisingly gentle. ]

Help me.

I will. You know I will.

[Now isn't the time to start snapping and making demands, as much as part of her wants to shove him, hit him, do something to make him back down so that she can run. Maybe she could knock him out, tie him up, keep him that way for long enough to find some answers. She will, when she finds something within reach that's heavy enough to throw him off, because a cleared counter isn't doing him any favors.]

I found you, I'll figure out a way to fix you.

[Emma only wishes she knew how. Even when he might be backing down, she can't exactly move. Her eyes are locked on his; on the blue of them, the way he has all of his attention on her. She stand straight, tense, but her determination outweighs her fear. This happened because he stood up to Cora, she can't turn her back on him now.

And when she did it, she found that Cora couldn't harm her in her usual way. It might hold here, too. She has magic, that's something.

So she'll use it twice in one day if she has to, it'll be worth the price.]

You did.

[ A distant sort of smile twitches across his lips. No, other than the teapot she is sorely out of options, and he's showing no sign of backing away and letting her go. Instead he leans in closer, both hands pressed to her shoulders and soaking in the heat of her presence like it might restore him. ]

You found me.

[ There's an undercurrent to his touch and gaze both, something paralyzing. It's not too different from the urge that guided her to him, just a feeling that it's all going to be fine. They're both safe, he just wants comfort from her, surely she can allow that much? All the while his own sense of self is creeping back behind survival instinct, one that pulls her close and bends his head to rest against the crook of her shoulder. So close, so very close. ]

[The last time they were this close, he was the only warmth after the chill of the rain. She needed him then, and she understands the need to back away now, even if she can't move. This is what she gets for coming for him, or what he gets for standing up to Cora. What both of them deserve for not leaving each other alone like they should.]

We're getting good at keeping tabs on each other. Remember the night August told me the truth? You caught up to me on my way to the station.

[She's no stranger to playing along when it benefits her, he's seen it. Her head eases back - and in her mind she's only pretending she's trying to see him. As much as she would like to think she could over power him, as ready as she is to do that as soon as she's able to move, she doesn't know what else Cora might have done to him.]

You don't want to do something you'll regret, Jefferson.

Edited 2013-01-30 08:21 (UTC)

That's all I ever seem to do.

[ The pull is far too strong to fight against in his condition. Wildly the idea comes to him to bite, to drink, and he doesn't argue it. Just a sip, so tiny she'll barely even notice. A noble idea, perhaps.

But when his lips pull back from his teeth and his canines lower, when skin splits open and that first taste falls over his tongue, he's done for. Suddenly Emma is being pressed back against that counter and the quickly pattering beat of her heart spills an almost steady flow of blood into his mouth, and nothing in the world has ever tasted so good. It's pure and sharp and clean and perfect.

Now he wants more, and his arms lock around her to keep her exactly where she is. ]

[Her first thought is that it should hurt. Instead she feels light-headed, and surprisingly accepting of the way his teeth pierce her skin. It's dangerous and disgusting, and knowing that, it still takes her some time to process enough to react. He holds her like a lifeline, and she finally slams her head into his, groaning from the hit and the blood loss, suddenly overly aware of the warm trickle down her throat as she shoves him hard.]

Jefferson, stop it.

[She doesn't want to hurt him, but it might be too late to save him now.]

[ Her voice seems distant, all but background noise against the beat of her pulse, and all he knows is that this? This is wonderful, euphoric and restoring all at once, and someone is trying to take it away from him. There's a low sound that's almost feral, and he tightens his grip, both with hands and teeth, drinking deeper that ever.

It doesn't occur to him what it is he's doing, that he's drinking her blood and he should be horrified by the notion. Sickened. Instead he can feel his strength coming back to him, more than he ever remembered having. It trickles through his veins and warms his skin, a healthy flush returning to the deathly pale hue it had been before.

It's not enough. As a fledgling who's never fed, who doesn't know restraint, all he wants is more. But when he opens his eyes at last he can feel her struggling against him, see the light catching in her hair...

And with a groan he pulls himself free, all but shoving her away as sudden nausea strikes him. What was he even...? ]

[Emma slumps against the counter when he releases her, and it takes all of her strength just to keep her grip on the edge, her body bent against it to keep herself from falling to the ground in her weakened state. It was too much, and it never should have happened in the first place. She's conscious enough to raise a hand to her neck, to try to shield her injury from him as she pulls herself upright with a pained groan.

The walk toward the door is more of a stumble, a fight to keep her balance and to lean on every solid object imaginable on the way there. When she sees him, she's just barely understanding of the change to his appearance, because it's too much of a scramble after all he took from her. It wasn't supposed to be like this anymore with them, but it keeps going back to a fight. One way or another, they always end up hurting each other just to stay in each other's lives.

That would bother her more if the way he held her down and drank from her wasn't the fresh focus of her mind. Only Cora could come up with something so gruesome; this was probably what she had wanted all along.]

[ Jefferson looks as though he might be sick.

Good. She's leaving. She should have never come in the first place, he should have been left in that box where he couldn't do any harm to anyone. He'd thought Cora locking him away had been the punishment, but no...what she'd done ensured he'd lock himself away with just as much certainty, lest something like this happen again.

He watches the blood glistening on Emma's fingers as she holds her hand to her throat, and there's not a damn thing he can think of to say. So he does what he always does, what he knows how to do.

He runs. Disappears into the house to put as much space between them as he can manage while he tries not to be sick all over the carpets. The realization that just came crashing down around his ears is going to take a while to process. In the meanwhile, if she knows what's good for her, she'll stay away this time. ]

[If she knew what was good for her, she never would have come looking in the first place. She would have walked out if he hadn't run, but his own shock hits her the second her fingertips touch the doorknob. He's starting to get it, which means he's as freaked out as she is about all of this. He could hurt someone else a lot worse than he hurt her, and it's up to her to make sure that he doesn't.

Catching him is starting to sound like a good idea. They can talk to Rumpelstiltskin or the fairies and figure something out, but leaving him confused and alone isn't an option - not now that he's loose. She sighs, knowing she did this to herself, and turns back, listening to his footsteps as he rushes off.]

Hey, get back here!

[She takes a few steps just a little faster than she should have and has to brace herself against the wall, but she steadies herself enough to walk back through the kitchen after that.]

Jefferson, come out. I'm not going to let her get away with this, but I need to see you. Get out here.

Get out.

[ Lucky that his voice carries now. The halls are a blur as he bolts, patterned floors and turns and stairs traversed in a matter of seconds. It doesn't prevent him from hearing her, and why, why is she sticking around now? She had the good sense to get out while he she could only seconds ago, now she wants to talk?

The taste of her hasn't even faded from his tongue yet, half of him still reveling in the rush it had brought. That was the worst part of it. As horrified as he was now at the realization of what he'd just done, he hadn't even thought about it when instinct pulled harder than thought. What happened if he got near someone and the urge took him again, and he hurt someone else?

What if Grace came looking for her Papa? No, no no no, that couldn't be allowed to happen. He'd sooner find a way to destroy himself than risk harm coming to her.

After a moment he realized he'd stopped running, that he'd put enough doors between them to sink into a desk chair and cover his face with his hands. Oh, he was plenty warm now, enough to fool anyone...but it wouldn't last. A few days and he'd be just as hungry as he'd been coming out of that box, and desperate enough to hurt someone else. Those fingers raked through his hair, lowered to wipe at the blood still on his chin and lips.

Emma's blood. He could have killed her... ]

Just get away from me.

Sorry, that's not how this works.

[She reaches for the cell phone in her pocket instead of her gun, dialing Gold's pawn shop as she starts for the stairs. He'll have answers, even if she might not like what they are. Whatever was done, there has to be a way for it to be reversed, right? Jefferson makes a lousy Dracula.]

I'm calling Gold, stop hiding.

[She has an idea of how to fight him now. If movies are to be believed, then there are things in the house to fight him with - but she's worse at playing Buffy than he is at Dracula. Getting blood on her phone causes her to swear, and the conversation goes about as well as she expected it to; magic changed him into a vampire, magic will change him back. It's frustrating to have to avoid her sore neck as she holds the phone to her ear, wandering up the stairs to go room by room as she searches for him.]

[ Gold. Right. Gold would know how to fix this if anyone would, a master of all things dark and magical. If there was a cure, he'd know of it...

He should have thought of that first, he should be the one seeing to this, and yet even injured Emma seems more concerned with him than her own safety. There are of course reasons for her to be. Leaving him alone to deal with this means she won't know if he slips off to feed on someone else. She couldn't have that on her conscience, could she?

Stubborn, stupid woman, he thinks bitterly, and out of pettiness he refuses to aid her in her search. His mind is still trying to wrap around how precisely he's changed by the time she finally opens the office door, staring at a spot on his desk like it might have the answer.

Of course she's still bleeding, and the scent of it is as potent as ever. He covers the lower half of his face and hunkers down, glaring at her balefully. ]

I said get away. Go find a bandage or something, for the love of...

I'm sorry I didn't think to stop and bandage myself up after you took a chunk out of my neck.

[She rolls her eyes, mumbling her insult on her way out of the room. The phone is still in her hand as she walks down the hall to the bathroom, where she can find most things from memory. It wasn't long ago that Jefferson was the one who she was bandaging up, but he's gone from hurting himself to undead and drinking from her. It could only happen in Storybrooke and it would happen to Jefferson.

This completely explains why he keeps to himself, doesn't it?

She manages to clean up the blood on her neck, which doesn't account for all of it, since it's dripped down her shirt by now, but Emma does the best she can in her one-handed effort to wash up and bandage the wound. By the time she's done, Gold has told her everything he's willing to, and she's not at all happy with what he had to say.

Is she glaring a little when she walks back into the room? Yes, absolutely. Hopefully he's still there.]

[ Jefferson's certainly not having much luck with the outside world lately, is he? Terminally unlucky, perhaps.

He is in fact still there, a little more composed when she returns though obviously no happier than he was when she left. It's not her fault, however, and being cross with her does nothing to help either of their cases. Instead his expression has turned far more grave, glancing from the phone back up to Emma with a concerned lift of his brow. ]

...what did he say?

[ Are you alright? also comes to mind, but considering how long he drank for, he's a little surprised she's still standing. She's obviously not alright, though not dying. Thank God for small miracles. ]

He um -

[He wants her to use magic. It's apparently the solution to just about every problem Gold's ever had, which makes sense for him. For Emma, it's new and frightening. She could screw it up; screw Jefferson up without meaning to - and isn't he screwed up enough as it is? Maybe she'd hurt herself in the process, which would be already if she wasn't struggling to keep herself conscious as it is. Or she could end up like Regina, too twisted to know when magic is or isn't needed.

But this time, when it's a vampire she's facing, she knows it makes sense. There's no other way.]

He said we need to make your heart beat.

[And by 'we' she is only talking about herself. She's more cautious as she steps further into the room, waiting for him to run, or bite, or maybe allow it. She's tired, and worried, and she leans back against the wall just to have something supporting her.]

...suppose that makes sense.

[ If his heart is still even in his chest. Maybe Cora snatched it while he was out, just to complicate matters more. Wouldn't that just be the story of his life?

He knows what she's suggesting, what Gold is implying is necessary. More magic. She barely managed to open that case when she was fully awake and aware, however, and right now she looks a bit like he felt back in the kitchen. It might be better to leave it to someone else, or wait until she's recovered...but it feels a bit like some of that magic is already at work in his body, her blood tainted somehow by it. Maybe this is their shot, while the curse is still new and she has something to work with.

His tongue runs nervously over his lips, neither running nor making any effort to snack on her again. Finally he nods. There's really no other option. He already knows he can't live like this, he can't stand the thought of another meal like that or of Grace seeing him like this. Bad enough that Emma had to. ]

[She nods and pushes off, walking over to him and sitting down on the desk. It's late. This isn't at all what she expected to be doing tonight. Mostly, she just wants to get it over with and see how much she can cover up before Henry starts asking questions. He's home by now, and Mary Margaret was supposed to pick up babysitting duties. As much as he'd like hearing a story about the Mad Hatter turning into a vampire, the part where he bit Emma would not be okay with her kid. She'll lie if she has to, since scaring him is out of the question.]

Just stay still. No sudden movements.

[Gold didn't tell her that, but it's what she needs to get through this. If he grabs her again, there's no way she's going to be able to fight him off this time. He might look more normal now, but he doesn't lack strength on a good day and right now she hardly has any left. If he doesn't control himself, this isn't going to end in both of them alive and well.

It's not Jefferson that she's afraid of, it's the things Cora has made him capable of. She tries to keep the difference in mind as she straightens up, waiting for him to stand since he can be inconvenienced at least that much. When he does, she lays her hand flat against his chest, over the place where she hopes an unbeating heart might still exist.]

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