Prompt 151.1 for oncoming_storms
Prompt 151.1:
To everyone he knew, he was "that guy from the game shop, the one in the hat." Jeremy Brenner wasn't precisely the most notable figure in the world. He was your average American male, approximately 30-35 years old. He was Caucasian with brown hair, a bit of facial fuzz around the chin area, a little heavy-set. His hair wasn't usually combed well, or it was hidden under a baseball cap, but he wasn't what you would call dirty. Merely uninteresting.
Every Tuesday and Thursday Jeremy would show up at his local game shop. He would pick up comics and talk about the latest movie rumor mill with whoever was behind the counter, joke about the latest political figures with people that imagined that they knew politics but actually still took a rather bandwagon approach about things. He had the same fast food order from his favorite restaurant, preferred Chinese delivery over pizza, and his favorite station tended to play too much AC/DC.
Then Jeremy Brenner would go home and close all the blinds. He would go to his computer, and he would do what every other average man in the history of the internet would do. He would use the strongest pop-up blocker he could find, and go looking for the smuttiest videos. Usually from the same site anymore.
It was called A Sinful Temptation. An uninventive name, but somehow addictive, and yet again like a siren song it was luring regulars back online to stare for hours at videos of shapely women doing any number of unseemly things to themselves well organized by categories. Jeremy settled in with a tasteful brunette on the screen, blonde open in another tab. All of them live feeds, and somehow they never seemed to end, and the same women were reliably returning to present again and again.
The brunette was laying on a bed of red silk, stretched out, grinning lazily. She was moaning and writhing, teasing with a toy near her mouth that she daintily licked. Her eyes were captivating as her lips were, which made little sense when so much more of her was visible. Another woman appeared in the frame. Another brunette, fully clothed but wearing what looked close to military gear. Tight and suggestive, with sunglasses, her hair pulled back in a tidy ponytail. This wasn't the role-play section?
The first brunette was surprised. If it was role-play, she was a genuinely good actress.
"Who the hell are you?"
"Here to bring this freak show to an end!"
"Mind your own business!" The first grabbed the second by the ponytail, and yanked her off camera with her. There was rustling, jostling noises. A microphone boom fell over. A hooded light, creating an awkward shadow on the wall.
A woman, wrestling something that looked like a squid.
That was weird.
"Ace! I've almost got it!" another voice came through. A man? A touch foreign, it sounded like.
"Hurry up, Professor!"
"Right, Ace. Here goes." Something went off. The squid went limp.
Jeremy clicked off that tab and went to the others he had opened. Bam Bam Blondigo? Laying limp on the bed. Platinum Anne? Unconscious as well. Redd Sonya? Down for the count in her chain mail facsimile bikini.
He went back to that first tab, more and more curious. Now there was a man situating himself on the bed. He had a keyboard on his lap, and typed something in. Squinted toward him as he looked at the camera. Ah, the screen beneath the camera! That made more sense. All the open tabs filled with his image.
"Gentlemen-"
"Professor!"
"I wasn't finished, Ace! Gentlemen, ladies, and otherwise. I have something important to tell you. I will give you a moment to put those away, however..."
The stranger raised an eyebrow at the screen. It was a pretty guilt inspiring look, with those sort of eyes you doubted would miss anything. Jeremy was just guilt inspired enough that he did tuck it away.
He waited a second longer, before he began in earnest.
"I suppose when this began, this seemed innocent enough, didn't it? A pleasant escape from your day to day problems. Some of you have spouse that don't pay proper attention to you. Some of you have a severe trepidation of talking to members of whatever sex interests you. Some of you simply want to imagine what it would be like to be with such a woman, or man if you're on the brother community. And some of you just like to watch.
"It all starts innocently enough, doesn't it? Whatever your reasons were, these lovely creatures were at your beck and call. Like nothing you could have ever dreamed. All across the planet, from the Netherlands to Australia to Nova Scotia you tuned in. You revelled in what you couldn't have." His look edged toward accusing, just edged. But barely. But then, exasperation. As he knew something he was going to tell Jeremy and the rest of that staring audience (most of which he hoped followed his request).
"The problem is not in achieving what you desire but having it in excess. You might have not noticed how tired you were growing, day after day. Perhaps attributing it to loneliness or depression. A strange sort of lethargy set in, as they feasted on the lust of an entire planet. Lust, rather than love, provided them with enough of a psychic link to sap you of strength as they tried to pull themselves from their dimension into your own.
"I've seen a similar foe do this, building off fear, and they managed little more than a single convention. But with you? They almost won. They were so very close to it. And if I hadn't been able to block access from several nations, then I fear that your world would have been overrun in a few minutes' time."
He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his brow, loosely shifting his keyboard off to his side. "This broadcast will terminate in ten seconds. Any recordings you have made of it will degrade, along with any other recordings you have taken from these feeds. I'll say my fairwells now, but remember, sometimes it doesn't hurt to find out there are actual people out there."
The feed did cut and the man who had been talking at him degraded to badly proportioned and slightly freakish pixels and Jeremy was left staring at the screen, hands sweaty for reasons entirely different from the usual ones.
He pondered how the hell he would prove to the people at the game shop this had taken place. How he was going to rattle off to a conspiracy site precisely what was going on, get confirmations! Other accounts. There had to be plenty of watchers.
He went to another site he enjoyed, a girl in a thong stretched out across the screen.
He didn't have anything better to do, and anything else was too much trouble.
Character: The Seventh Doctor
Fandom: Doctor Who
Words: 1,146
Notes: Suggestive content warning.
To everyone he knew, he was "that guy from the game shop, the one in the hat." Jeremy Brenner wasn't precisely the most notable figure in the world. He was your average American male, approximately 30-35 years old. He was Caucasian with brown hair, a bit of facial fuzz around the chin area, a little heavy-set. His hair wasn't usually combed well, or it was hidden under a baseball cap, but he wasn't what you would call dirty. Merely uninteresting.
Every Tuesday and Thursday Jeremy would show up at his local game shop. He would pick up comics and talk about the latest movie rumor mill with whoever was behind the counter, joke about the latest political figures with people that imagined that they knew politics but actually still took a rather bandwagon approach about things. He had the same fast food order from his favorite restaurant, preferred Chinese delivery over pizza, and his favorite station tended to play too much AC/DC.
Then Jeremy Brenner would go home and close all the blinds. He would go to his computer, and he would do what every other average man in the history of the internet would do. He would use the strongest pop-up blocker he could find, and go looking for the smuttiest videos. Usually from the same site anymore.
It was called A Sinful Temptation. An uninventive name, but somehow addictive, and yet again like a siren song it was luring regulars back online to stare for hours at videos of shapely women doing any number of unseemly things to themselves well organized by categories. Jeremy settled in with a tasteful brunette on the screen, blonde open in another tab. All of them live feeds, and somehow they never seemed to end, and the same women were reliably returning to present again and again.
The brunette was laying on a bed of red silk, stretched out, grinning lazily. She was moaning and writhing, teasing with a toy near her mouth that she daintily licked. Her eyes were captivating as her lips were, which made little sense when so much more of her was visible. Another woman appeared in the frame. Another brunette, fully clothed but wearing what looked close to military gear. Tight and suggestive, with sunglasses, her hair pulled back in a tidy ponytail. This wasn't the role-play section?
The first brunette was surprised. If it was role-play, she was a genuinely good actress.
"Who the hell are you?"
"Here to bring this freak show to an end!"
"Mind your own business!" The first grabbed the second by the ponytail, and yanked her off camera with her. There was rustling, jostling noises. A microphone boom fell over. A hooded light, creating an awkward shadow on the wall.
A woman, wrestling something that looked like a squid.
That was weird.
"Ace! I've almost got it!" another voice came through. A man? A touch foreign, it sounded like.
"Hurry up, Professor!"
"Right, Ace. Here goes." Something went off. The squid went limp.
Jeremy clicked off that tab and went to the others he had opened. Bam Bam Blondigo? Laying limp on the bed. Platinum Anne? Unconscious as well. Redd Sonya? Down for the count in her chain mail facsimile bikini.
He went back to that first tab, more and more curious. Now there was a man situating himself on the bed. He had a keyboard on his lap, and typed something in. Squinted toward him as he looked at the camera. Ah, the screen beneath the camera! That made more sense. All the open tabs filled with his image.
"Gentlemen-"
"Professor!"
"I wasn't finished, Ace! Gentlemen, ladies, and otherwise. I have something important to tell you. I will give you a moment to put those away, however..."
The stranger raised an eyebrow at the screen. It was a pretty guilt inspiring look, with those sort of eyes you doubted would miss anything. Jeremy was just guilt inspired enough that he did tuck it away.
He waited a second longer, before he began in earnest.
"I suppose when this began, this seemed innocent enough, didn't it? A pleasant escape from your day to day problems. Some of you have spouse that don't pay proper attention to you. Some of you have a severe trepidation of talking to members of whatever sex interests you. Some of you simply want to imagine what it would be like to be with such a woman, or man if you're on the brother community. And some of you just like to watch.
"It all starts innocently enough, doesn't it? Whatever your reasons were, these lovely creatures were at your beck and call. Like nothing you could have ever dreamed. All across the planet, from the Netherlands to Australia to Nova Scotia you tuned in. You revelled in what you couldn't have." His look edged toward accusing, just edged. But barely. But then, exasperation. As he knew something he was going to tell Jeremy and the rest of that staring audience (most of which he hoped followed his request).
"The problem is not in achieving what you desire but having it in excess. You might have not noticed how tired you were growing, day after day. Perhaps attributing it to loneliness or depression. A strange sort of lethargy set in, as they feasted on the lust of an entire planet. Lust, rather than love, provided them with enough of a psychic link to sap you of strength as they tried to pull themselves from their dimension into your own.
"I've seen a similar foe do this, building off fear, and they managed little more than a single convention. But with you? They almost won. They were so very close to it. And if I hadn't been able to block access from several nations, then I fear that your world would have been overrun in a few minutes' time."
He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his brow, loosely shifting his keyboard off to his side. "This broadcast will terminate in ten seconds. Any recordings you have made of it will degrade, along with any other recordings you have taken from these feeds. I'll say my fairwells now, but remember, sometimes it doesn't hurt to find out there are actual people out there."
The feed did cut and the man who had been talking at him degraded to badly proportioned and slightly freakish pixels and Jeremy was left staring at the screen, hands sweaty for reasons entirely different from the usual ones.
He pondered how the hell he would prove to the people at the game shop this had taken place. How he was going to rattle off to a conspiracy site precisely what was going on, get confirmations! Other accounts. There had to be plenty of watchers.
He went to another site he enjoyed, a girl in a thong stretched out across the screen.
He didn't have anything better to do, and anything else was too much trouble.
Character: The Seventh Doctor
Fandom: Doctor Who
Words: 1,146
Notes: Suggestive content warning.