[thoughtful] Reading the Road Map
Hermes msg_ina_bottle wrote in memebells
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670. 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!

  • 8. Pick your own.
    Mix it up, roll them together, make up your own? It is all good.

    [Originally posted on Dreamwidth]

  • #4, CoG, because we are AWFUL.

    [Months. It has been months since Guriel disappeared, and Ben has torn the city apart looking for him. Auction houses, black markets, pits, brothels, you name it, he's been there. Sometimes pleading, sometimes threatening, and sometimes the place is in ashes after he leaves, with bodies scattered around, but he doesn't care. He has. To find. His Packmate.]

    YES we are

    [And Guriel has spent most of those months literally in chains, first at an Auction, then as the household slave of a pair of thin-faced, sour-tempered Napa Valley landowners.
    They keep him in a pair of cuffs, runebound and welded shut around his wrists so he can be chained at a moment's notice; the cuffs are locked to a staple in the floor of a closet barely large enough to sit down in when he's not in use.

    At first he raged and spit and pushed back at them any chance he got, certain that Ben and Zev and the others wouldn't leave him. They'd come for him, they would, because they're Pack, because they promised.

    And then a week wore into two and then a month wore into another and they didn't come and didn't come and didn't come. His Masters think it's hilarious, and he curses himself for a fool for ever, ever letting them know he had something he was hoping for, something he was holding on to.

    He was better at hiding that, once. He was better at this, once, better at being a bad slave, at not letting his human Masters break his spirit, but that was before his Pack, before most of his defenses crumbled in the face of being loved and valued and treated like a person.

    He's not a person, here. And he's only valued in a cold, distant way, for what they spent on him, for what they get out of owning him. They mock his pain and his hope and the pain that having his hope mocked causes him, they beat into him over and over that nobody's coming, that nobody cares.

    And in the dark, narrow, terribly alone space of his "room," it's getting harder and harder not to believe them.]

    [Ben rages, cries, drinks... and is scaring Rachmiel. Which he is terribly, terribly sorry for, but he can't seem to help himself. Rachmiel is spending more and more time at the safe house, and Ben is left alone to brood over his failures and plot slow, ugly death to whoever has his Packmate.

    Because make no mistake. He is going to kill them.

    He just wishes it wasn't taking so long. It's been months, and Guriel seems to have disappeared into a black hole and then pulled it in after himself. Ben's dropped weight, and his eyes have a hollow, haunted look.

    Most of the time, they're amber.]

    [Guriel's lost weight, too, or at least gives the impression that he has; he slouches when he stands, like he's trying to bear up under a weight too terrible to bear. If he was his own, if his face mirrored his spirit, he'd be blank-eyed and expressionless and as numb as he feels.

    But his Mistress wants him to smile, and he has standing Orders to always be smiling when she can see him. Somehow that makes it worse.]

    [Ben's in the bar with his laptop when he gets an email from someone who may have heard something somewhere about where Guriel might maybe be. Or, at least, an angelus matching his description was seen at a party in Napa.

    Smiling, obedient, and handcuffed with silver, decorative shackles.

    He wants to start that way now. And he can't. Because he doesn't drive drunk, and he is so very intoxicated right now.] Stupid. [And he goes off on yet another swearing tirade, calls a cab, and falls into bed once it gets him home.

    First thing in the morning...]

    [And it's just another night, sitting with his wrists cuffed to the floor, shifting awkwardly as he tries and fails to find another, more comfortable position, one to take some of the strain off his aching shoulders.

    He doesn't sleep, here; nothing they demand of him is taxing enough to make him that weary, and he knows better than to try it for any reason but sheer exhaustion. Not without Zev to comfort him if he wakes up with nightmares.

    He misses his Pack, God he misses them, it's a physical ache deep down in his very being. He doesn't pray anymore, he hasn't for weeks -- maybe God is still listening, but he can't bring himself to hear yet another endless silence from that direction. He doesn't sing or recite the Psalms, because They don't want him making noises at night.

    But he's not entirely silent, because they were too stupid to Order him not to speak altogether. So he whispers, pressing his forehead to the wall, even though nobody else hears.]

    Please come. Please come for me. Please, please, I'm here, please find me, you promised . . .

    [Google Maps says it's a nearly seven-hour drive. And this is California. By the time he gets through rush-hour traffic, past four accidents that drag everything to a standstill, and construction, it's more like nine. When Ben arrives at the address he was told, he's practically in a frothing rage. His eyes are amber, his claws are sprouted, and fur bristles on his back.

    God help these people.

    He pulls the Jeep to a stop in front of the house, flings himself out, stomps up the walk, and doesn't even knock. He just slams the front door open--

    And Guriel's scent hits him like a sledgehammer.]

    Edited at 2012-01-13 04:48 pm (UTC)

    [Guriel's in the kitchen scrubbing floors when the door slams open, and he goes cold all over -- running through the list of bad possibilities in his mind, trying to prepare for any of them. Could be the Mistress roaring home drunk again, in which case she's liable to be furious if dinner's wrong (and it will be wrong); could be the wind or something slamming the door, which means it's his fault the latch has broken; could be intruders, which means he'll have to kill them to protect people he'd cheerfully murder if he only had his sword . . .

    Answering the door is his job, one of many, and he should already be out there; even while he's trying to prepare for the worst he's scrambling to his feet, rushing out into the front room.

    He gets there at the same time as his Master does, furious and red-faced. "Who the Hell are you?"

    And Guriel freezes, cold all over and numb from too many emotions at once.] Ben.

    [And Ben doesn't even hesitate, he's got the guy by the throat and slams him against the wall with no effort whatsoever. A bestial snarl rips through his lips, and there's barely anything human looking out of his eyes.] Where. Is. His ring.

    [It's on his finger, gleaming dully, heavy and hateful. The human scrabbles and claws at Ben's wrist, but he's not an idiot, and he digs his thumb into the sigil for Order and half-chokes, half-barks at Guriel. "Get. Him. Off me."

    Guriel shudders, clenching his fists, because nothing in him wants to do that, he wants to watch Ben murder this bastard, but he can't fight the rush of that Order, like ten thousand tiny puppeteer's strings yanking on every part of him, cutting and burning and freezing him until he obeys, his actions leaden and his heart frozen in his chest.

    Ben is strong, but Guriel has angelic strength, and he seizes Ben's wrist in one hand and wraps the other arm around his throat, pulling him away. His voice is tiny and strangled.] Please. Let him go before he makes me kill you. Please.

    [Ben freezes and lets his Packmate move him off the guy. His claws retract, and he huffs out a breath.

    That being said, the first chance he gets, he's just going to kill this Master with no hesitation.] What happened, Guriel?


    [Guriel flinches like he's been shot, and he drops his eyes to the flagstone floor, hating himself for not answering, hating his Mistress for Ordering him not to ever speak mind-to-mind with anyone again, hating that he's still holding Ben in an iron grip, hating the fact that realization, sadistically gleeful realization, is growing in his Master's eyes.

    And the Mistress of the house chooses that moment to come home, stepping through the front door with a somewhat dull-witted expression, surveying the scene. "What . . ."

    Her husband's voice is an evil, evil thing in its amusement. "Honey, this is the angel's little friend."

    Her own answering smile is flinty and sharp and horrible as she turns it on Guriel. "Oh, is it?"

    And Guriel flinches. And hates himself. And smiles.]

    Edited at 2012-01-13 06:57 pm (UTC)

    [She stops short and stares at Ben with amazed contempt. "This is what he's been yammering on about?"]

    I am going to kill them so very very dead... [Which is not something he'll say aloud, especially when Guriel's still got him in an iron grip. But he's sending love and reassurance and missed you down the Pack link.]

    [Guriel closes his eyes, shaking a little, doing his best to hide it. Still smiling that horrible, hollow, Order-bound smile.

    His Master straightens his shirt collar and steps closer. "Look at that, angel, you were right after all. He did come running to your rescue, didn't he?"

    Guriel swallows painfully. He knows that note of cruel amusement in the human's voice, and his stomach turns at the thought of all the awful things he might Order Guriel to do next . . .

    Especially if that hanging question that isn't one goes unanswered for even a moment longer.] Yes, Master. He did.

    [hotly] Of course I did, motherfucker, he's my friend. I never stopped looking for him after he disappeared. And I don't know where you got him or what your paperwork looks like, but it's forged, and you're in a lot of trouble.

    Can you hear me, at least? Tighten your hand on my wrist if you can, okay...?

    [Guriel hears, all right. He hears, he just can't respond -- but his fingers tighten. Not enough to hurt, and he's trying his best not to let the silver of his shackles touch Ben's skin.

    His Master scoffs. "We bought him at a perfectly legal Auction, thank you. There's nothing illegal about owning a recaptured angel."

    "That's right, there isn't." His wife steps closer to Guriel with that same cold, flinty smile. "And you know that, don't you, angel?"

    Guriel flinches. Because they're right; there's technically no law against what the Hunter who ambushed him did.] Yes, Mistress.

    ["He's such a good boy. Once he had a firm hand to break him of that wilfulness, he shaped right up."]

    Edited at 2012-01-14 02:54 am (UTC)

    [Ben seethes.] Well, what a shame you haven't had a firm hand to break you of your bitchiness. Maybe we can fix that for you.

    [The husband steps up and punches Ben viciously in the face. "Don't you talk to my wife that way."

    Ben spits blood in his eye.] I'll talk about her in whatever way is fitting for the kind of person she is. You two deserve each other.

    But you don't deserve Guriel. He's too good for you.

    [The Master wipes the blood off his face with a coldly enraged expression, and Guriel flinches bodily and shrinks away as much as possible while he's still holding onto Ben, instinctively trying to brace himself for the Hellfire that comes with that look.

    "You know, I could have him kill you. Unfortunate, really, the house angel having to take such steps during a home invasion, but these things happen. Castle doctrine." His teeth are far too white, and Guriel freezes.]

    N . . . [He manages to stop himself from saying no, because he learned three months ago what happens if he tells this Master "No," even when begging.] Please, Master, please don't. Please, sir. I'll do anything, please don't make me hurt him . . .

    [Ben's stomach lurches, and he barely keeps himself from throwing up. Not that there's anything in his stomach anyway. His voice is a low growl.] Don't you dare hurt him. Don't you dare.

    [He is thisclose to wolfing. Zev is begging him to turn him loose.] Did you tell them about Zev? Two squeezes for yes, one for no...

    [A single squeeze. He managed to keep that much to himself, to keep Zev his own private secret memory, one thing they've not yet gotten at to mock and tear to pieces.

    "Pay attention. I'm not talking about hurting him." The Master sneers.

    The Mistress eyes Ben with disdain. "Personally, darling, I think we almost have to. Maybe the angel will stop being so difficult all the time if we put a stop to this nonsense once and for all."

    Guriel shivers. He's still smiling, damn her to Hell. And he doesn't even know exactly what he's saying, he's just saying the things he's learned they want to hear. Anything to keep them from Ordering him to break Ben's neck.] Please, I'll do better, I'll do whatever you want, just let me let him go without hurting him and I'll be good, I swear I will . . .

    If you hurt me, you hurt him, you utter jackass. Tell him to let me go. Or you will not like the results.

    Guriel, get ready... [Ben is tense, eyes amber, and teeth far too big for his mouth bared in a rictus of hate.] Zev missed you too.

    [Guriel feels his eyes prickle at that, and he wishes he had a hand free, because he hates crying in front of them, he hates it with everything in him. One squeeze for yes, and he tries to loosen the arm around Ben's neck a little bit.

    "Don't you dare do any such thing, angel." His Mistress's tone is snappish, and Guriel flinches as if he's been slapped. Instinct, at this point; the tone comes with a blow more often than not. "Richard, tell him to kill him and get this over with."]

    No, please, no . . .

    [The Master's expression hardens, and Guriel realizes a second too late -- he's always a second too late, why is he one of the stupid brothers -- what he just said.] Please.

    ["What. What the fuck did you just say to me, angel?"]

    [And it doesn't matter, because Zev is suddenly there, and he lunges forward at Richard. The angles are all wrong for Guriel to keep his grip on the wolf, and Zev's jaws close around the man's throat and wrench back in a spray of blood while the woman screams in horror.] Little brother--!

    Zev! [Guriel almost crumples in relief, every line of his body going slack all at once as the hold of the ring's binding magic dies with his Master.

    And even as relief and triumph surge in his chest, part of him is screaming in horror, too, a mental cry he doesn't even realize he's letting out.] OhGodohGodohGod no, don't attack a human, don't attack my Master he'll hurt you he'll kill you he'll hurt us both ohGodnostopdon't!

    [The angel he was six months ago would have lunged forward and killed the woman before she had time to realize he was moving. The angel he is now staggers backwards until his back meets a wall and tries to remember how to breathe to think to fight to do anything but be trapped . . .]

    Edited at 2012-01-14 05:03 am (UTC)

    [Zev flinches at his Packmate's thought-babble, but he wheels on the woman without hesitation as she stands there gabbling at him. He hits her in the chest and bears her to the floor, and she tries to get an arm up between her and the enormous wolf who just murdered her husband. But he barely even notices the puny arm, and both it and her face disappear between his jaws. Another wrench, a truncated scream, and she convulses once and is still beneath him with blood pooling behind her head.

    He leaves her without a thought and turns back to Guriel.] Oh. Oh, little brother...

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    (no subject) - guriel, 2012-01-19 06:58 pm (UTC)(Expand)
    (no subject) - werewolf_hacker, 2012-01-19 07:50 pm (UTC)(Expand)
    (no subject) - guriel, 2012-01-19 08:29 pm (UTC)(Expand)
    (no subject) - werewolf_hacker, 2012-01-19 08:51 pm (UTC)(Expand)
    (no subject) - guriel, 2012-01-19 09:26 pm (UTC)(Expand)
    (no subject) - werewolf_hacker, 2012-01-19 09:47 pm (UTC)(Expand)
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    (no subject) - werewolf_hacker, 2012-01-19 11:17 pm (UTC)(Expand)
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    (no subject) - guriel, 2012-01-21 08:02 pm (UTC)(Expand)
    (no subject) - werewolf_hacker, 2012-01-21 08:09 pm (UTC)(Expand)
    (no subject) - guriel, 2012-01-21 08:16 pm (UTC)(Expand)
    (no subject) - werewolf_hacker, 2012-01-21 08:38 pm (UTC)(Expand)
    (no subject) - guriel, 2012-01-21 08:45 pm (UTC)(Expand)
    (no subject) - werewolf_hacker, 2012-01-21 09:00 pm (UTC)(Expand)
    (no subject) - guriel, 2012-01-21 09:53 pm (UTC)(Expand)
    (no subject) - werewolf_hacker, 2012-01-21 10:12 pm (UTC)(Expand)
    (no subject) - guriel, 2012-01-21 10:30 pm (UTC)(Expand)
    (no subject) - werewolf_hacker, 2012-01-21 11:05 pm (UTC)(Expand)
    (no subject) - guriel, 2012-01-21 11:26 pm (UTC)(Expand)
    (no subject) - werewolf_hacker, 2012-01-21 11:36 pm (UTC)(Expand)
    (no subject) - guriel, 2012-01-21 11:48 pm (UTC)(Expand)
    (no subject) - werewolf_hacker, 2012-01-22 03:04 am (UTC)(Expand)
    (no subject) - guriel, 2012-01-22 03:09 am (UTC)(Expand)
    (no subject) - werewolf_hacker, 2012-01-22 04:33 am (UTC)(Expand)
    (no subject) - guriel, 2012-01-22 04:38 am (UTC)(Expand)
    (no subject) - werewolf_hacker, 2012-01-22 04:43 am (UTC)(Expand)
    (no subject) - guriel, 2012-01-22 04:59 am (UTC)(Expand)

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