bakerstreet | ROMANTIC RESCUE MEME

ROMANTIC RESCUE MEME

The person you love is in trouble! They could be in danger or perhaps even captured, but no matter what, no one can keep you away from them for long. Be careful, though, and don't lose your head and make foolish mistakes out of passion. Remember, your loved one will be counting on you, and that may include for more than just being saved. Rescuing is a long process.

— OR —

Your rescuer (or your rescued, as the case may be) isn't someone you've met before; they could be doing it out of the goodness of their hearts, for a mission, or even completely selfishly, as you'll be valuable to them. Still, they've come to free you from your prison or your most perilous of situations. While this is happening, it may be easy for emotions to run high...and feelings to burst from behind the scenes. As you ideally work together to get to safety and avoid getting caught while participating in deadly chases, you realize something problematic: you're falling for the person you've rescued or the person who rescued you.

— OR —

Somebody saved your hide from certain destruction - problem is, you have no idea who they are! In your mind, however, you've started to get all kinds of ideas about them. What are they like? Well, surely they have to be this way or that way. They're most likely a saint! Oh, it's as if your heart is aflutter when you think of them. You'll stop at nothing to find out where they are. But once you do, can the real them ever live up to what you imagined?

Comment with your character and preferences.
Mention if your character is more likely to be the rescuer or the rescued.
Reply to others.
Use one of the scenarios above or choose your own.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

(( Equally inclined to rescue or be rescued - either one's fine. ))

[Probably the rescuer since he's a super hero, but open to being recued since he has his moments of incompetence.]

[This wasn't the first time Dexter had allowed his sister to drag him into a sticky situation. Hell, last summer he'd nearly been sacrificed to an ancient demon-- but this, being captured by a cannibal coven, and held in a rotting amusement park, was certainly among the very worst things that had happened to him (and on top of that, he'd skipped dinner!).

Dexter thought he understood the complexities of cannibalism quite well, considering; it was both natural, and shunned, and he supposed that being eaten was likely not the worst way to go (he'd preformed much more wicked wet and wild inflictions on his prey) but, by all that was good and mighty (or Bad and Dark) why did these people have to be so CLASSLESS.

It really was what grated on Dexter the most, as he slowly began to blink away the darkness and notice the room around him. He was bound, hands behind his back, feet together, and linked to his joined hands. The rope was rough and biting. Somewhere in his unconsciousness his shirt had been removed, and little deep vicious cuts were still congealing on his chest.

The implications, as well as the blood, made his head swim uncomfortably.

Alana Acosta and her son Bobby were the leaders of the group; both rude arrogant and cold, hiding behind Mr. Acosta's cash and political power. Dexter recalled the taunting before he'd been knocked out-- "little piggy" they'd called him. Laughed and sneered with those tacky, fang-capped teeth.

Really, if only they would just kill him, at least he'd get to stop being irritated.

Dexter suddenly lifted his head when there was a shuffling at the door; not too much noise, but enough that his senses (keener in the dark) told him something might be amiss.

There was little he could do, save for wait and see what would happen next.]

[Typically, Davis tries to keep his hunting grounds, such as they are, small. Tight. Controlled. He doesn't target specific victims often, instead preferring to take them red-handed in the act so to speak. Driving so far out of town, to a long-since-abandoned amusement park he's never been to, isn't his style. If it wasn't for a certain Mr. Robert Acosta, he wouldn't have made this trip at all.

Mr. Bobby Acosta, of the wealhy Acosta family. Bobby Acosta, who sent his girlfriend to the hospital with a compound-fractured arm and scared her so bad she swore up and down she'd fallen in the bathtub. As excuses went, that was just a step away from 'fell down some stairs', but the poor girl was so shaken up he hadn't pressed the issue. And now she's been missing for two weeks.

Maybe it was just because of how much like Chloe the unfortunate girl looked, but that pissed Davis off on a level that went past the usual hot flare of anger he's learned to swallow. It pissed him off enough to break his routine and start following Bobby, in his car at first and then on foot when it became clear he'd be noticed otherwise. He already knew about the Acosta family's ties to Intergang, so he figured there was a good chance that his missing girlfriend might still be alive.

What he didn't expect was to follow Bobby Acosta's car into an old amusement park that'd been closed since he was a kid. An amusement park that, in spite of being abandoned for over ten years, has a fair number of cars in the fenced-off parking lot. Old Bobby had just stopped at the gate and produced a key to open it; Davis, not having such privilege, had just opted to snap the chain in his hands.

It hadn't taken long to find where they went after that. With the property fenced off and out in the middle of nowhere, they certainly weren't expecting company.

Davis has been proceeded cautiously, which is also not quite his usual style, but this is way more people than he's used to dealing with at once. And it's been quiet; all he's met so far was the one guard at the door.

It might have gotten just a little noisier just now when he slammed this long-hair hippie looking type up against a door. But dammit, the guy had been scraping the eyeballs out of someone's recently-severed head. If anything called for a quick and violent response, that did.

It does make things a little weird, though, when the door swings open to reveal a bound man he recognizes after a moment's pause. It's been months, but Davis has a good memory for faces; he recognizes the blood-splatter expert from a crime scene. And there's little doubt as to whether the guy recognizes him, the EMT who's got a cannibal hippie in an armlock. A hippie whose neck was very, very recently snapped.]

Hmm. Awkward.

Edited 2014-09-01 21:20 (UTC)

Mm, a bit, yes.

But I'll tell you this; I'm so revlieved to see someone that I'm fairly sure doesn't want to eat me, that I will overlook the, uhm... brutal side effects of your rescue, so long as you untie me. Right now.

[Dexter was an expert at faking almost any human emotion, but even his smile was a little strained and thin. He was rather battered; bleeding from several nasty wounds along his arms and mid section, and all that blood (his own, precious blood) was starting to make him light headed.]

I'm sure the cannibal hippie had it coming. Now, if you please?

[There was a tiny note of panic, smothered down. A hint if dizziness in the way his eyes moved.]

Um, yeah. Sure.

[Davis isn't nearly as good at faking emotions as he is at snapping necks, so his discomfort right now is unfortunately genuine. Witnesses are also something he tries not to make a habit of, and here's a guy who has seen his face and knows who he is. That's definitely a wrench he didn't want thrown into this.]

Wait, cannibal hippie? I thought he was just some deranged serial killer taxidermist...

[There's no way to make this any less awkward, so he just drops the cannibal hippie and moves quickly over to free the guy. The ropes are tight though, and while he could just snap them the way he did the chain, as taut as they already are it's probably hurt. So he goes with the old-fashioned way.]

Damn, these knots are thick... I would have brought a knife if I knew I was going to need one. Can you hear me okay, are you feeling lightheaded at all?

[It's bizarre the way his EMT training kicks in, but he saw those wounds just now.]

[Dexter isn't exactly thrilled to be recognized either-- strictly speaking he's got no reason to be here, save for his sister illegally dragging his ass for back up. There's at least two bodies bound up on a spit somewhere outside, and Dexter doesn't really want to be around when the heat comes-- the FBI was sniffing around him far too much already.]

I really do hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it's true. It's a god damn cannibal coven-- and you just saved me from being on the menu. Or, will save me, as soon as you cut these ropes. There's quite a selection of knives on the table to your right-- take your pick.

[Dexter shifts uncomfortably against the binds, all too aware of every drop of blood crawling down his skin.]

I'm fine. Blood... makes me woozy [said the Bloody Spatter Analyst.]

[Davis likes to think he's got a strong stomach, and in some ways he does, but he still grimaces when he sees those knives. Maybe it's the ritualistic fetishes on the hilts, or maybe... just maybe... it's the blood. Dried. No prize for guessing where it came from.]

Cannibals. Fantastic. Alright, just stay with me, everything's gonna be okay.

[If it wasn't for the limp body lying in the doorway, you'd probably never guess he was anything but the EMT he looks like. Grabbing the cleanest knife he can find, he quickly saws through the ropes and moves to catch the bound man once he sags.]

Any idea how many of 'em there are?

I'm fantastic, just hurry up.

[He's seen far too much blood in the past 48 hours-- the jars in he fridge he was locked in, the pools in the ground under the cooking pits-- it was enough to make his slip, just a little, into that far away time in the tiny cold box.

He tries to think of something else; the way Davis seems to be moving along so nicely after killing a man, for example. It could have just been adreneline, but still... Dexter's Dark Demon stirred curiously, extending a long black tendril in careful search for its kin.

He doesn't mean to-- want to fall against the other man's weight, but he'd lost a little more blood than he'd realized and, as previously mentioned, missed dinner.]

At least 5 armed adults, maybe twenty or thirty between teens and twenties. Some have guns, some have swords.

[Dexter tries to right himself; balance of his own free will.]

That was an excellent neck snapping, by the way.

[Okay, still slightly woozy.]

Almost got you loose.

[He can forgive the other man for his impatience - being bound and prepped for ritual sacrifice would make anyone testy, he imagines. And at least the guy's not yelling and carrying on a fuss yet. Those types are always the worst.

And all the while, he keeps an eye on the door. Because this good luck can't last for long, eventually someone's going to find the guard's body, and when they do, all hell's going to break loose. Davis isn't worried for his own safety, but Dexter's another story; right now he's not even sure the guy can walk, given his condition.

Having assessed his condition already, it doesn't come as entirely a surprise then when the dazed blood-splatter expert slumps against him. He's ready for Dexter's weight, supporting the smaller man on one arm easily. Normally he'd try to hide his unnatural strength, but right now's just not the time.]

Ah. Great. So we're going to have to fight our way out. Here, you'd better hold onto this.

[Davis hands the knife he just used to free the other man over to him, not bothering to grab another for himself.]

Um... thanks. I think.

[Pretty weird as far as compliments go, but he'll take it. Anything to keep Dexter alert and conscious.]