"There's a legend 'round here; a killer buried, but not dead. A curse on Crystal Lake..."
݁ ˖↟𖠰˚☀︎ᨒ↟𖠰˖ ݁
Jason Voorhees roleplay blog - roaming the forest, guarding his home from pesky trespassers.
Jason Voorhees roleplay blog - pre Part II, 2009 reboot inspired for a grungier, more survivalist take on him. (Also has a Dead By Daylight AU version.)
He roams the grounds of Crystal Lake, maintaining it and guarding it from those who wish to stick their noses where they don't belong. His wrath is swift and deadly, stalking and brutally slaughtering any who dare trespass...
Mature themes (eg. violence, child abuse, animal death, sexual topics (not with Jason himself, but, well, premarital sex-having teens are rampant here)) will be present. You have been warned.
Askbox always open - questions, roleplay starters, etc. all welcomed with open arms
OCs welcome to interact, within reason. Especially hikers/counselors/idiot partying teens welcome! Give him all the victims...
DMs are open - mun doesn't bite! If you wish to discuss or ask something, feel free.
Mun is all pronouns.
𐦂 𝑀𝑈𝑆𝐸 𝐼𝑁𝐹𝑂𝑅𝑀𝐴𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁
6'5"
34-39 y/o
Still human
Asexual/aromantic, sex repulsed
He/him/his & it/its
Has an elaborate tunnel system beneath Camp Crystal Lake, as well as various traps and alarms set around - from bear traps, to snares, to tripwires
Has arrested development
Knows some ASL
𖨆 𝑇𝐴𝐺 𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑇
#An intruder...? -- ask responses
#A chickenscratch note -- ask meme responses
#Ki ki ki ma ma ma -- solo posts
#J Man responds -- literate roleplay responses
#J Mans drabbles -- independent writing
#A figure in the trees -- additions to others' posts
#Into the Fog -- Dead By Daylight version of Jason as "The Slasher", AU to the rest of the blog
#ooc post
(Anything with "//" in front of it is OOC - so, me, the mun, speaking.)
𐀪 𝑊𝑅𝐼𝑇𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝑃𝐴𝑅𝑇𝑁𝐸𝑅𝑆
TBD
𖠋 𝑁𝐴𝑀𝐸𝐷 𝐴𝑁𝑂𝑁𝑆
TBD
𖧧 𝑊𝑅𝐼𝑇𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐸𝑋𝐴𝑀𝑃𝐿𝐸
(excerpt from a DBD rp in which he kidnaps Laurie outside of a Trial due to her resemblance to Pamela)
After the apple had been taken from his hand, it lingered there for a moment before dropping to rest on his knee. Her question only got a sluggish, out-of-sync blink in response.
Laurie's big, sad, scared eyes - staring at him like a frightened child - were nothing like his mother's, which had been kind, and lovesick, and had gotten so cold whenever she spoke of the bad people. He tilted his head slightly as if looking at her from a better angle would strengthen the resemblance.
He was tempted to reach out and fix her hair, to adjust it to more look the part to make up for the lack of mother in her eyes, but all his hands did was twitch.
. . .
Jason snapped his head back down and began pulling more from the sack - placing bits of fruit and vegetables, some snacks, and other varying kinds of food on the dirt ground in front of her. Some of it was fresher than the others, but they were all still in the edible range. He also pulled out a pack of water bottles, setting that down beside everything.
Then he shuffled backwards and rose back up to as much of his full height as was possible in the short tunnel. One hand raised to point at the selection he'd brought her, then came up to tap the mouth of his mask once, fingers to his thumb.
[Eat.]
Do you dare trespass into the territory of the legend himself?
🏠 for the ask game? (What part of their living space reflects them the most?)
ALSO HAIII <3
~ 🦋
Flashlight flickering, Julia hissed a curse and whacked it with her palm, and the beam of light became steady once again. She pointed it ahead of her at the rickety wooden door she stood in front of, before sweeping it over to the windows. Boarded up, cracked, the bowels of the old cabin dark behind them. She leaned in, setting a hand on the grimy glass, shining her light through to try and peer inside, but nothing was clearly visible.
“Damn it…”
Without being able to tell what she was walking into, Julia was tempted to just leave the place alone – but her curiosity tended to get the better of her more times than not. She'd explored buildings like these before - the only real danger would probably be the floor. The inside was likely fine.
So, trying the handle and finding it unlocked, she pushed the door open and took a step into the cabin.
Her flashlight barely cut through the darkness, and the old, musty, rotten wood smell immediately assaulted her. She raised her elbow to her nose for a moment to try and prevent a sneeze while she got used to her new surroundings.
If she was lucky, then she was the first person to step foot in this place in ages. At least by the looks of it, anyway. She couldn't see any graffiti, so it was more than likely she was walking forgotten territory.
Julia swept her light around slowly, catching it on the moth-eaten, water-worn furniture of the living room she stood in. Taking careful steps and avoiding any floorboard that creaked too ominously, she circled around the room, eyeing anything interesting. There wasn't much. Shelves of books, no specific spine catching her gaze; faded paintings hung crookedly on the peeling walls; random bits and bobs set on tables...
She had no real interest in an eighty-year-old mug.
Julia grabbed a dusty old photo from the mantle of the unused fireplace, wiping the face off with her sleeve. It was a picture of a middle-aged looking woman – short blonde hair and a kind face, in a sweater, with a pendant around her neck. Julia hummed with an inquisitive tilt of her head, then gently set it back where it belonged.
“Well, she looks nice. Probably deader than hell, though.”
Leaving the living room, she turned into another, gently pushing open a door that was barely hanging onto the hinges. Light shining over the small room, it was quickly clear that it was a bedroom. And, by the looks of the toys scattered around basically every surface, it once belonged to a child.
“This shit’s basically antique…” Julia murmured, picking up one of those old creepy cymbal monkeys for a second before putting it back down and wiping the weird filmy feeling it had left on her hand off on her pants. Looking around, there were board games, some she recognized but most she didn't on the slightest, and a bunch of miscellaneous toys. Dinosaurs, cars, Yahtzee sets, card decks, and the occasional stuffed animal – their once vibrant, soft fur now ratty and haggard.
Something shiny caught her light, glinting in the beam, and she crossed over to the dresser, briefly setting her flashlight down with the light pointed into the rest of the room so she could pick up this little rectangular box with both hands. It was cracked open, and she opened it all the way, being met with her own rosy reflection in a small mirror. Music started playing in the otherwise silent room. Quiet and skipping, but still music nonetheless – no doubt once a beautiful lullaby before time ate away at it. A little princess twirled in slow, jittery circles in the center of the music box.
Julia smiled as she watched her dance. How cute.
Once its song petered out, she gently closed the lid again, giving it a soft, affectionate pat before putting it back and picking her light up again, turning back around.
Aiming it at the bed, the name JASON was etched into the headboard, and hole-ridden, faded blue sheets were draped messily over the stained mattress, unmade. The pillows were yellowed and flat, but propped up against them was an adorable teddy. Very well-worn with love, its fur matted and both of its eyes replaced with mismatched buttons sewn poorly on. There were visible stitches in some places where it had been repaired further, saved from death countless times by clumsy but careful hands.
“Well, aren't you a sweetheart–” Julia cooed, setting a hand on the bed to lean over and grab the cute little teddy… but she abruptly paused when she registered that the bed under her palm was still warm, slept in far too recently.
“Uh…”
Did someone still live here? Surely not – the place barely held even her weight. But maybe some homeless person was desperate enough...
Her spine started to crawl as if a centipede was skittering up it. Was she just fucking around with some crazy homeless druggie’s shit? Damn it. She ought to leave, then - she wasn't all too fond of the idea of being caught and probably kidnapped by a crazy dude.
… Her head snapped up when she suddenly heard a deep, heavy boot plant itself on the wooden step outside, creaking loudly.
“Shit–!” She hissed, floundering as the footsteps approached. Where the fuck should she go!? There was only that one exit that she knew of! Fuck! Fuck!
The door was shoved open with a resounding BANG, and a large, imposing figure stepped through…
She could only see his legs from her spot under the bed. Dirty jeans, weathered boots, and he was definitely a massive man by the size of them and the sound of his steps. He sounded like he was made of metal, he was so heavy.
He walked into the living room and dropped some sort of sack on the ground, its contents making a dull thud against the floorboards. Then he pivoted, starting to slowly stroll towards the bedroom.
Julia tucked her turned-off flashlight to her chest and clamped a hand over her mouth and nose, trying to quiet her breathing and stop the whole sea of dust under the bed with her from irritating her. If she sneezed now, who knows what would happen. Either this guy would just freak the hell out and she could just run away, or he’d kill her ass. Junkies were unpredictable.
So were murderers. She had no idea which one she was. Maybe he was both. He seemed pretty damn strong...
He suddenly stopped and her heart spiked. Oh fuck.
… But the music just started to play again, tinny and calm, even if distorted.
Then his thundering footsteps sounded like they were banging against her eardrums as he walked directly next to the bed. She shuffled further away from the side he was on… but her foot bumped a ball, and it rolled out from under the bed.
The man stopped again and her heart didn't just spike, but dropped all the way down to her stomach.
She kept as still and silent as physically possible, hand trembling over her mouth. Don't hear me, don't see me, don't know me, don't hear me, don't see me, don't know me, don't hear me, don't see me, don't kn–
A burst of movement, and a large hand fisted itself hard in her hair, yanking. She immediately screamed and thrashed, but the man dragged her out from under the bed with his agonizing, iron grip.
“Fuck! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just let me go! Let me go!” She screeched, but the giant, foul-smelling man merely threw her forward face-first into the floor. She grunted as her nose cracked against the floorboards, pain blooming, blood starting to drip onto the wood, but she quickly gathered herself and tried to scramble away.
Thud-thudding footsteps- and then a hand clamped around her shoulder. He yanked her around onto her back, and her wide eyes met his own, the latter’s hidden beneath a weathered hockey mask - one eye misaligned and drifted eerily off to the side, the other locked on her, narrowed in annoyance.
“What the fuck!?”
She kicked at him with her legs, but he merely shoved them back down, then pulled something from his belt with a metallic SHHK.
A machete.
He raised it above his head, and she scrabbled backwards in a panic with a scream, but it still made itself right at home down the center of her skull.
