bakerstreet | Don't look back

Don't look back

Consensual Kidnapping

“Prince Rhaegar loved his Lady Lyanna, and thousands died for it.”

The search parties are out, the flags are raised, because you're missing. Gone without a trace, really.

Or are you?

There's a suspect in your disappearance, someone who absolutely had to take you away by force. The picture's clear to all outside parties.

Except it isn't that clear cut. You've left, yes, and you've been taken, of course, but you weren't strong-armed into it. You went with this person, this suspect, of your own free will. Because you love them, because you can't be together otherwise, because they offer a better opportunity regardless of your feelings towards them, because you want to escape someone else you know for certain you can't love, or just because you can.

Those people who believe you've been snatched away, they don't get it. They don't know you were given a choice...you took it.

Character, info, role, prefs, what have you.
Thread with others.
Will this end in happiness or tragedy?

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[Probably the "kidnapped," but open to anything.]

[The kidnapper!]

[ Probably the kidnapper, but open to either role. ]

[ his canonical attempt at kidnapping didn't work out... maybe he'll fare better this time? free visit to the demon realm! ]

Things had been bad, and then they'd gotten worse, and for the past week -ever since the so-called 'earthquake'- they'd just been weird, and while the thought of going back and trying to explain had crossed her mind, once, it had only been briefly before realizing that was a terrible idea, because while she might be forgiven and welcomed back, Eddie definitely wouldn't be, and more than that, nothing good would come of being forgiven and welcomed back anyway.

There would be no talking sense into anyone who had already convinced themselves that Town Darling Kidnapped by Satanic Cult Leader for Nefarious Purposes was actually the truth.

Which was at least one of the reasons why she was perched on the back fender of the van at a roadside rest stop with a towel 'borrowed' from a Motel 6 pool a few miles back wrapped around her shoulders waiting for the hair dye from the dollar store to set. It was not a foolproof plan and she knew it, it was barely even a plan, but it was what they had and it would have to do until they came up with something better.

She was careful not to lean forward as she swung her feet, "So, where to next?"

Eddie's staring down at a map of Indiana and trying to work the answer to that question out. There's a certain level of doom that's been hanging over his head since all of this shit started, like by running they're just putting off the inevitable, but every moment he spends with Chrissy makes him want to drag that out.

He looks up at her, trying not to let any of his unsureness bleed through his expression. How is it possible that she looks even better as a brunette? Her features seem sharper, her eyes more intense. Changing her hair color was a really smart idea. It's one he should probably follow suit with, but he hasn't reached that level of desperation yet. He hasn't cut his hair since he started living with Wayne and somehow doing so makes him feel like he'd be giving up a key part of himself. "Might be able to get by in the city," he says. "But on the other hand, more people means more eyes able to identify us. Could try to disappear in some backwater town and lay low, but you know how small towns are."

Wherever they go, they're going to stand out like sore thumbs just because they'll be new. Either fresh pickings for gossip, or fresh pickings for someone trying to take advantage of them. There's really no way to win.

"So same place we were at this morning." She replied, giving a little nod, it was about what she'd expected, all things considered, so she wasn't terribly surprised, and wasn't at all disappointed, though some small part of her -a part that sounded suspiciously like her mother- was insisting that she should be.

"We could always just pick a direction and keep going until we find somewhere that hasn't heard the news. Obviously we don't know how far it's gone already, but it can't have gone national yet or there would have been a much bigger presence, or any at all, for people leaving Hawkins, right?"

No one had been stopped, no cars had been searched. Of course, that kind of thing might be happening now, she couldn't be sure. There was a brief hesitation before she added, a little more quietly, "And I keep feeling like maybe I should call somebody, let them know I'm alright, but that would just make things worse. I know it would."

He feels a wave of relief when she decides for him. Returning to the motel they'd holed up in last night feels safer than wandering out into unknown territory, even if it's still too close to Hawkins for comfort.

"We're lucky they didn't quarantine the place," Eddie says, leaning against the bumper beside her. Then they never would've made it out. As it was, he'd taken some deserted backroads and kept his head down. Damnnit, he was going to have to do something about his hair if they were going to get anywhere.

"You can," he says, easily, turning towards her. He's not going to stop her if she wants to tell her parents that she's okay. As long as she doesn't give up their location, which he knows she wouldn't. He digs in his pocket and produces the last of his change. "I've only got seventy five cents, but I can get more change."

She smiled at that, shaking her head and reaching over to curl his fingers back around the quarters, just clasping his hand between her own for a moment, "It's alright, that can wait until..." Another little shake of her head, "Until we're further away, where they won't be able to try sending anyone after us."

She wasn't sure, really, if that was what her mother would do or if she'd be disowned, and she wasn't even sure she'd call her parents first anyway instead of one of the girls from the squad, and it occurred to her that it was probably sad that she didn't have anyone else to call besides her family or her team, but she wasn't going to think about too hard, either.

She nodded then, letting go of his hand so she could lean against her own once more, "Okay, so few more minutes and I'll go rinse out my hair, then we can go back to the motel, and we'll come up with a better plan for tomorrow." Another small smile, "Or if not a better plan, a direction to go in."

Her fingers are cool against his warm hands, but he still feels a tingle of warmth move through him where she touches him, soft and gentle. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to the idea that she wants to touch him, even when it's in little ways like this. When she lets go of his hand, he wants to chase it with his own, but instead he sticks the change back in his pocket.

He reaches out and tugs on a strand of his own wild hair, glancing at it before looking back at her. "How good are you with a pair of scissors?" He asks, trying to smile through his apprehension. It's not that he doesn't trust Chrissy, it's just that he doesn't trust that he'll still be him without his hair.

Her brow furrowed at the question, regarding him for a moment, because she was pretty sure he couldn't actually be considering what she thought he was considering. It made sense for both of them to change their appearance if they were going to go unrecognized for as long as possible. She remembered the slightly lopsided buzz cut and knew she could definitely do better than that, but she'd gotten used to the fluff of curls and was almost hoping he wasn't considering asking her to lop them off.

She did, however, give a little shrug, feet swinging again, "Depends on why you're asking, but I've got a steady hand and a good eye for lines." The corner of her lip caught between her teeth for a moment, "You saying we should stop at the dollar store again on the way back to the motel?"

"Yeah, maybe," he half sighs, letting go of his hair and looking back at her. "I mean, I don't want to, but you can't exactly go undercover if you stand out like a sore thumb."

He glances down at his jacket also. "And maybe something a little bit less inconspicuous would be a good choice also. I guess I just have to ask myself, what would Steve wear?" He chuckles and shrugs. "Wanna dress me up like a Ken doll?"

She stifled a laugh at the line of thought as to how to disguise himself, but sobered a moment later, nodding, "I will My Fair Lady the hell out of this." Her brow creased just a little, "I think there's a thrift store across from the dollar store, might be a better idea for a new wardrobe."

The smile was back a moment later, tilting just a little as she regarded him again, "Even if we don't make you a Steve clone, we can at least find something different. It's going to be weird, trying to make you bland as everyone else." But it would be safer, and she knew it.

He can't help but grin at her. She's so fucking cute. He may not need or want a make over, but if he was going to accept it for anyone, it'd be Chrissy Cunningham.

"Normally the idea of being bland would make me shudder, but I'd rather be bland and free than myself and locked up for the rest of my life, however short it might be." Does it make him angry that he's the one on the run when Jason was the person in town literally out to murder someone? Absolutely. But given his track record, he feels like he shouldn't be that surprised by it. "The only downside is me looking bland makes you look that much better in comparison, and you're already a knockout."

"We'll just have to use that to our advantage." She replied, giving a decisive nod, even though it was on the tip of her tongue to deny it, that was the kind of thing that the past week had started to cure her of, though she did still apologize more than she should just for existing. It was a work in progress.

"I think, if people are paying attention to me and not to you, we'll probably do alright. I already don't look like any of the pictures my mom would circulate for missing posters." Especially now with the darker hair, "And if we do actually manage to make you look like just some guy, that's even less reason for people to pay attention to us, you know?" Something that would become more apparent the further they got from Hawkins, out of that bubble there should be absolutely no reason for anyone to pay them more than a second glance, if even that much.

He nods. He thinks that if he tones down the volume on his looks that Chrissy will definitely be the person most people will pay attention to. Unfortunately she was pretty enough that she'd draw attention anywhere, but she was right, if they were looking at her, they weren't looking at him.

He knocks on the side of the van twice. "Alright. Look at us. We've got a plan. Wheeler would be proud." He grins at her. "Let me go pay and we'll go back to the main street and hit up the dollar store and thrift shop. Then we can camp out at the motel one more night."

She laughed brightly, shaking her head, "No, no she wouldn't, she'd say 'well it's a good start, but...' and then we'd get a laundry list of all the holes in the plan, which I don't know about you, but I'm doing my best to just ignore those and focus on what we can do, you know?"

She nodded, "Sounds like a real good next step for this swiss-cheese plan we've got going." She replied, smile still very much in place even as she slid to her feet to close the back doors, before moving up to the passenger side, giving her hair a quick fluff in the side-view mirror and climbing up into the seat, something she was also getting better at without it taking three tries thanks to the height.

He chuckles and grins back at her. She's not wrong. As much as he respects Nancy, her logical thinking can be a little terrifying sometimes. Even if they just have the beginning of a plan, it feels like a step forward. A step away from Hawkins.

He goes to pay, trying to be careful not to look the clerk in the eyes directly and he pockets the rest of the cash they have left, praying that it'll last just a little bit longer. They're going to have to find a way to get some money soon. And though he has a myriad of skills that will help, he doesn't want to have to use them unless they're totally out of options.

He climbs back into the van after putting the pump back and turns on the engine, nodding for a second to AC/DC before shifting the van into drive. When he parks on the Main street a few minutes later and turns off the engine he can't help but look over at the beautiful girl next to him. "Hey, Chrissy? Thanks for coming with me. I'm not going to let you down."

Her brow furrowed a little at the thanks, reaching over to clasp his forearm briefly, "You're welcome? But of course I did. What was I going to do? Just leave you alone in your hour of need?" Especially after he'd been there for her already, not that she was going to say as much because that made it sound like an obligation and it definitely wasn't, "Of course not."

She shook her head, "Besides, I'm pretty sure you had more to keep you in Hawkins than i did." Which is still strange to admit, and she wasn't fully sure she'd actually admitted it before that moment, "What I mean is that you gave me a better reason to leave than to stay."

Eddie lets out a huff of a laugh, raising his eyebrows and nodding. "Well, yeah," he says like it's the most obvious answer. He takes a deep breath, his eyes searching hers for a long moment. "Everyone else has."

There's something wrong about what she says. The head cheerleader/prom queen/town sweetheart should have every reason to want to stay in her kingdom instead of going on the run with the excommunicated town jester.

"You sure?" He asks, wishing that he didn't have to. "'Cause if you change your mind, I understand. No hard feelings."

"I'm sure, I'm sure." She replied, giving his arm another squeeze, "And if we ever come to the point where I change my mind, I'll let you know. But that's not going to happen, I'll..." She sighed, shaking her head and letting it thump back against the headrest for a moment, "I haven't told you about the Grand Plan," somehow even just saying it she gave it the proper capital letters of a title, "I'm mostly trying not to think about it, but maybe I'll be able to, sometime." Another little head shake, smile returning, "But this? Is an improvement."

Her smile softened, more genuine and less definitely-on-purpose-cheerful, giving his arm a gentle jostle, "Now come on, got some scissors to buy and a wardrobe change to attempt." She hesitated briefly, "Let me handle paying at the thrift store, I know we don't have much folding money left so this is important, let me do the talking and just agree with me when I ask you a question, okay?" There was a brief flare of nervousness in the question, but she was otherwise resolute, "I'll explain once we get back to the motel with what we need."

[ the kidnapped ]

[let's get reverse persephone'd]

[Get 'kidnapped' by the wild 9' tall malewife.]

( the kidnapped...)

( m/f, the kidnapper. )

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