bakerstreet | Monster and the Maiden Fair

the monster & the maiden fair meme

There's a long precedent in folklore and myth of beautiful young people - both men and women - being kidnapped by monsters: dragons, beasts, goblins, demons, elves, vampires, wolves, or even evil humans. In the end, however, these prisoners are almost always rescued and brought back to civilization to live a normal and happy life.

But what if they didn't want to leave their jailor?

They've seen behind the surface and have begun to sympathize with this "monster;" no, more than that, they've fallen for them. Will this story have a happy ending? Will the monster believe that anyone could love them? Most importantly, though, can the two of them be left alone without any attempts at a "rescue?"

how to play

Comment with your character, your preference, and what role they'll play. Feel free to AU characters to your desire role.
Reply to others.
Thread anything that could remotely fit under the umbrella theme. Was the kidnapping just that, or did both parties know (and care) for each other before, making it a collaborative, mutual effort? Perhaps you'd prefer to play the actual Beauty and The Beast-style getting to know each other or seeing behind the grizzly facade. What about an attempted "rescue?" Or maybe you could thread out a scene where the prisoner runs away from the society they were forced back into and returns to their beloved beast! It's all up to you. You could even do smut if you wanted to, but this isn't a smut meme.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's possible that the presence of another has been more obvious to Ambrose, as it has been for his guest. Not quite a complaint -- privacies are firmly established, helped by the vague anonymity each has for the other. What looms over Ambrose's awareness is a heartbeat so very present in his domain, so constantly, now. The sounds of moving and breathing, soft living sounds that have begun to dull out the still silence that Ambrose's dwelling, as much as himself, exude like a chill from stone. He's lived completely alone since his emergence, and the time prior to that with fellow fledgling undead. 180 years since he last lived amongst living, breathing mortals -- and he'd been one of them then, too.

Of course, he hadn't been so hyper-aware of the pulse of blood of those he lived with then. Ambrose has no fear of being lured into letting his control slip -- he feels fully confident in his intentions, or really, lack thereof. He finds quickly, after only a few days, that while constantly aware of the other, he can tune it out with ease. He's still learning the full extent of his senses and capabilities, growing stronger and keener with time and blood.

He makes no rush to emerge from his room, awakening as twilight bruises the sky outside. Ambrose doesn't see it -- his windows packed more than adequately to keep any semblance of light out -- but feels its lack drain over the city instead. But he is certainly up and roaming when Felix decides it's 5 o'clock somewhere and goes in for an evening libation, having single-handedly made Ambrose's kitchen look more lived-in than any other part of his home, with the edible contents he's put in. Until now, it had been only an eerie fixture to the whole apartment, barren aside from the blood bags in the crisper drawer.

Ambrose hears a metallic crack, but he practically smells the blood first. His hands still with pen set to paper, him standing at his dresser and writing something down. Pale hazel irises are swallowed by hungering pupils widening involuntarily. Over the low hum of this instinct, Ambrose can hear Felix curse into the air, and his all-too human concern blooms open against what dead and dry earth makes his monstrous foundation.

Unfortunately, his predatory eagerness has him moving just too uncannily quickly, exiting the room and moving into the kitchen nearly instantaneously with just a few twitches of movement. It's happened by accident a few times now, something he has never anticipated, and has yet to harness. In truth, he could do without it, he thinks, and finds it only quite troublesome.

Ambrose stops silently behind Felix, eyes uncomfortably curious, but brows drawn up with his concern. "Are you hurt?" Comes his voice low, and considerably calm -- if it weren't for how forcibly even he has to make it. The blood is stronger in his nostrils, distracting in how much it stings his sense, as if he were drowning in it.

"Jesus unicorn fuck!” Felix exclaimed, this curse much louder, almost dropping the bottle of beer when Ambrose asked if he was alright. He turned to Ambrose, eyes briefly wide and startled, before sighing and shaking his head. “Warn a guy before you do the ninja thing next time, almost lost the beer.”

Felix wasn’t used to being snuck up on, but it did happen from time to time. It wasn’t like he was expecting bloodthirsty chaos beasts to leap out of Ambrose’s closet.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just - nicked myself on the bottle cap. Barely bled, see?” He held out his hand to Ambrose to show how it ‘wasn’t even bleeding anymore’. Except there was no wound there at all. Felix trusted Ambrose to not be able to tell, most people couldn’t for minor cuts.

There was still the bottlecap on the counter, mind, that had more than a few drops of blood it tore out of him, but that was neither here nor there.

Sorry, Felix -- Ambrose would try to warn you about an involuntary flare of vampiric prowess you call 'the ninja thing,' if Ambrose even knew what a 'ninja thing' was intended to be.

He jerks back at his guest's response, eyes widening with some new alarm of his own. "I'm-- I apologize," he offers, almost a little dazed, realizing what he must have just done... Had he really responded so...eagerly? He feels a bit awful just considering it, especially knowing what it was that sent him out of his room in the first place.

The vampire has to lean back in to inspect the finger that is only briefly displayed, perplexed at the lack of any wound to see. 'Barely bled' -- it didn't take much to strike his senses, but Ambrose sees nothing, yet can still smell it... Unfortunately, Ambrose is grabbing Felx's hand without much forethought -- not roughly, in fact his touch is gentle enough to be used on a small animal. Sorry, is this a weird behavior? Ambrose would have no idea, really. He seems perplexed, staring down at the hand, as if trying to crack a particularly tricky riddle.

"...I have bandages," he offers, looking around as if trying to find them here in this kitchen. In truth, his curiosity is like a dog's, with the bloody scent still in his nose. It's here, certainly...?

While Felix startled a bit at the contact, he didn't pull his hand away from Ambrose, letting the man inspect as he wished. Watched him, well, watching him.

He was a weird guy, but Felix had known plenty weirder. Ambrose didn't seem bad, which was the important thing. Or at least, not worse than Felix himself.

You can't fall off the floor, he thought to himself, taking a drink of the beer.

"It's fine, uh - I'm sure it'll be okay. I'll just make extra sure to wash my hands so it doesn't get infected," Felix said. You know, the completely sealed no longer real injury. He glanced around when Ambrose did, spotting the bloody bottlecap on the counter likely at the same time. "Aw fuck, I'll take care of that."

Ambrose is already plucking the bottlecap up from the counter -- his precise senses having guided him right toward the source of the very persistent scent -- in time with Felix noticing it. This is far from the concern of a pressing mystery, but it is as mystifying as a riddle... It's all as if none of this phases his guest at all.

"It's quite all right," Ambrose responds, thoughtful, eyes catching on the gleam of blood. He bites down on the inside of his bottom lip when the urge kicks up in his throat -- urge for what? More than blood; in particular, Ambrose is so momentarily caught by the sharp and full scent of fresh blood that he genuinely forgets the bags of blood in the fridge.

He looks to Felix...with a smile that is a little forlorn, only at the edges. His movements are stiff, but he lowers the roundly-shaped bit of metal into the trash, a small canister below the counter.

...Blood. Fridge. Right. Ambrose glances at Felix's drink and tries a more natural-looking smile. "Good idea," he says, seemingly at the bottle in the other man's hand, and turns to the fridge. Okay, much better now, this pang of keen attention to the lost blood wavering out like steam.

Ambrose is quick to open the fridge and reflexively retrieve a bag from a small drawer, once used for lunch meats and cheeses, not that Ambrose is aware of that intended function. "I...suppose I've never asked, partly for being polite..." Next, grabbing a glass from an upper cabinet. "Where is it you're visiting from? If it's not intrusive to ask."

Felix is lucky that Ambrose isn't aware of more than vampires such as himself, werewolves, humans touched by spirits of supernatural origin... He's never set eyes on something more than human-esque, in either appearance, or origin. He doesn't have suspicion, but he's certainly becoming...curious about his recent guest.

Monster and the Maiden Fair

works just fine ♡

Woo!

felix waving a 'barely bleeding' finger in front of a vAMPIRE WHAT ARE YOU DOING MY GUY

Look he's alive because he's max lucky, not because he's got any self preservation instinct

(pardon the delay!)