hop the leghold

bite down, blend in, don't let them see you hurt

[english-idylls]

Woodcutter’s Fire by Michael

[fornaxvoid]

[whisplings]

[365filmsbyauroranocte]

Actua I (Philippe Garrel, 1968)

[enhancedcontact]

The Entity’s realm was constantly shifting, moving the realms’ locations and never keeping the set up stagnant. In the boring lulls between trials, Jake would walk away from the campfire only to find the wreckage heaps of Autohaven cutting up the dirt. The next time, it would be the murky blues of the MacMillan Estate appearing to greet him. He likened it to a rubix cube, with the campfire being the unmoving centerpiece everything revolved around.

Walking through the surrounding woods, this time he found himself before the large silhouette of Léry's Memorial Institute. Groaning slightly, Jake debated heading back and facing his teammates. 

He hated the Treatment Theatre. He hated being inside at all, let alone in trials. At least when he appeared in the other realms he felt somewhat at home - in his element. Here all he had was the cold, snowy tiles and television static for company.

Approaching the large exit gate doors, he heard his footsteps underneath crunch from the soft layer of snow and he reached to pull his scarf further up to cover his chin. Feeling his heart start to beat fast at the thought of being stuck inside the building, he quietly reminded himself this wasn’t a trial. He was just exploring. 

Maybe something besides dark woods would be a good change for him.

Maybe he could get some peace for a little while.

[goddamnshinyrock]

me, in public, talking to a crow: hi ominous shadow bird! are you a harbinger? I bet you are! what a good little harbinger of death you are!

[enhancedcontact]

“Yeah.” Part of him wondered if Jake would even be able to touch him. He took a breath, trying to… prepare himself for something. He didn’t know what. 

Hearing his confirmation, Jake gently placed his hand on Bubba’s shoulder in a way he hoped would be comforting. 

“Black.....Black, yeah, it’s always black. This place isn’t much for scenery changes.” Jake licked his lips nervously, taking his eyes off Bubba for a moment to look at the sky. He didn’t actually think he would make it this far, he was terrible at being comforting. “Look, I don’t know what you’re upset about, and I’m not sure I’d really understand if you told me.” Was it just the normal stuck-in-the-Entity’s-realm-sadness? Some interpersonal problem with another survivor? Jake never did pay attention to the goings on of the other survivors - too interested with spending time in the surrounding woodland or analyzing his toolboxes.

“You don’t gotta explain anything to me, but it’s not safe out here. And I don’t wanna be responsible if you trip on your way back to the campfire and die somehow.” Jake gave Bubba a look, he knew the other man wasn’t exactly known for his coordination. “We don’t gotta head back now, but you should return to the fire when you can, I know the way back.” 

[memeasaurus-promptus]

Reblog if your muse is neurodivergent!

Requested by Anonymous.

[memeasaurus-promptus]

Childhood Memories

Send in a number and my muse will talk about:

An old childhood friend

A time when they got lost

A fear they used to have (or perhaps, still have)

Their favorite food

Food they used to avoid but like now

An old enemy/bully

Their family

Their earliest memory

An adventure they had

An object they kept

Their favorite toy/past time

A time they got hurt

A happy time

A sad time

Things they used to believe in but perhaps not anymore

A dream of the future they used to have

A vivid dream/nightmare

Something that scared them

Something that made them laugh

Their favorite relative/person

Their childhood hero

Something they used to collect 

Their favorite animal

Free question. Ask something not listed! 

[won-der-land89]

[youwereholdinganumbrella]

[enhancedcontact]

He was talking too much now. The man probably didn’t even care about this. He wouldn’t be surprised if Jake just found an excuse to leave. He wouldn’t blame him either. It was rough to deal with him when he was like this.

Looking down at the man, noticing his soft speech and detached demeanor, Jake instantly knew something had occurred. A panic attack maybe? The Entity loved to cause lasting trauma for the newer survivors. It wasn’t entirely uncommon and many of them had experienced them and the resulting lack of focus. 

Jake knew dissociation well. Too many times after his initial incident of fleeing home, even before being taken by the Entity, did he spend hours sitting in the dirt, thorns pricking his legs while he tried to force himself to feel like he was in control of his body again. Maybe it was this shared circumstance that gave him the empathetic push to speak again. 

“Hey.” Jake crouched in front of him. “Focus on me, okay? Looking at your hands won’t help them feel any more real.” 

Jake reached out to grab his hands, stopping himself before making contact. No, he thought, not everyone can handle that when dissociating. Thinking quickly, he adjusted his plan.

“Focus on, uh. The woods. What color is the sky right now? Beyond the leaves.” He breathed out slowly. “Can I touch you? Is that okay?” 

[enhancedcontact]

+♣

Jake grumbled to himself as he pushed through the undergrowth towards the campfire in the distance. Being the first sacrifice of a trial always felt unfair, especially so when you were the only one hooked thrice in a row. Sure, he may have been asking for it - breaking the Trapper’s leg-holds right in front of him, but that bald hellion had it coming.The Entity had made quick work in returning him to the dark woods on the outskirts of the fire, but Jake was smart enough not to look a gift horse in the mouth and ask why the Entity had been so gracious in bringing him back quickly. It probably had a reason, the Entity always seemed to have a reason for it’s antics. Approaching the campfire, Jake noticed he was alone with only the crackling flames for company. A rare sight, but not completely uncommon. Trials often happened in spurts of activity, quickly using up the stock of survivors available. 

Except......Jake wasn’t alone.Sitting on one of the closer logs was a young child, no older than eight, clad in a.....dog costume?“Oh, fuck.” Jake gasped, surely the Entity wouldn’t bring a child into the realm to be a survivor, would it? The ancient god controlling the realm never had shown mercy before, but this was unnecessarily cruel, the boy would’t stand a chance.Approaching him quickly, Jake noticed the boy looked awfully upset, on the verge of tears. Guilt clung at his heart and Jake’s mind raced at some way to stop the impending water works. He did not like kids, and they never had seemed to care for him either, but he couldn’t just leave him be to cry alone.

Thinking back to his childhood, Jake clung to one of the few good memories he had. He loved when his brother would throw him up over his shoulder, assaulting him with tickles until he was red in the face from laughing. It was an idea at least. The only one Jake had.“Hey, uh, kid.” Jake caught his attention. “No need to cry okay? We’re just...camping. It’s fun you’ll see.”Jake took a place on the log besides the child, hunkering down to try and make himself as least intimidating as possible. “Soon more people will be back, you’ll get taken care of.” The other survivors would surely be better at caring for a child than he. Laurie was a babysitter wasn’t she? And surely Claudette would be kinder than him too. Bill and Ace may even have experience, he hadn’t yet asked if they had children themselves.

Forcing a smile on his face, one Jake hoped looked more real than it felt, he spoke. “Until then, I guess your stuck with me!” 

He shot his hands under the child’s armpits hoping to get at least a chuckle out of the kid, anything besides crying at least. Imagine his surprise when he actual got him to burst into laughter, smiling and clawing at Jake’s gloved hands to stop his assault. 

[enhancedcontact]

✿ -lauriechode

Jake never liked flowers. Something with such a fragile beauty like a wild flower didn’t fit in with the image of the wilderness he had come to enjoy so much. He lived for the smell of moss on trees, the untamed brier pulling at his clothes - not poppies and dandelions. 

Even so, when Laurie approached him, tucking a cornflower behind his ear with a gentle smile, he couldn’t will himself to hate the thing.

“......Thank you.” He managed to choke out, feeling his face flush to contrast the blue.

[dragonroleplaystarters]

Send one for a Scenario!

{Send the symbol + reverse for the opposite!}

♥ — Hug my muse!

♦ — Kiss my muse on the forehead!

♣ — Tickle my muse!

♠ — Massage my muse’s shoulders!

◘ — Stroke my muse’s hair!

♪ — Rub my muse’s back!

♫ — Kiss my muse’s neck!

☼ — Hold my muse’s hand! 

► — Lay your head in my muse’s lap!

▲ — Share a blanket with my muse!

◄ — Pull my muse to sit in your lap!

▼ — Share a bath/shower with my muse (writer or sender’s choice!)

✿ — To put a flower in my muses hair!

★ — To lean on my muse’s shoulder!

♫ — To sing to my muse!

[loveybubba]

Bubba sat with his back against a tree, a bit away from the camps. He wasn’t crying anymore. That had passed but the words still rang in his head. His mother… that had been devastating. However, the thing that really hurt him the most? It was knowing that he could not protect Quentin all the time from Freddy. He was uncertain now, that Quentin would even want him around. He cut his hand off and it had done worse for him. He’d made him suffer.  That had to be the most painful. Quentin was his best friend here but now… now he wasn’t sure he should be around Quentin. He stared at his hands, face blank under his bandanna. Now though, the feeling was dull. It was there, yes but… almost non-existent. He knew it was because of his breakdown. He knew he should feel something but right now, he felt numb. He didn’t eve notice the foot steps approaching, head too caught up with his thoughts and eyes too focused on hands that… he wished weren’t his own.

[enhancedcontact]

The campfire that served as the home beacon for the survivors had always been Jake’s bane. While many of the others found comfort in the warmth and the welcome post-trial chatter that followed their escapes. For Jake, it was always too much - like static in his ears, something to be ignored til overpowering. This time, it was a roaring laugh from David that set him off, retreating from the campfire with sure steps and ringing ears without so much as a word for the others. The Entity, at least, would give him the small blessing of quiet woods. Or so he thought. Hoped. As he went further in the woods became less sparse, and the trees thickened. Dark leaves overhead shook with a wind that Jake couldn’t feel, only subtly masking the sound of sniffles. A hot wave of expectation hit Jake like a bus. Being put on the spot to comfort another was always the worst feeling - a boiling emotion of guilt and pity. There was nothing more he’d like to do then turn heel and forget he had heard anything. It’d take 15 minutes at the most to return to the campfire, to take a spot with the group and pretend that there wasn’t a poor soul upset in the fog. It would be so easy. And yet, Jake couldn’t quell that bubbling guilt in his stomach. Biting his lip, Jake debated his options. An uncomfortable evening of comforting another, or an uncomfortable evening of feeling guilt over the situation. The odds weren’t in his favor either way. Approaching the man with the bandanna against the tree, Jake steeled his nerves and spoke. “Are you okay?”

[dead-by-dessert]

Claudette: Okay, what’s the first thing we should teach about first aid to new survivors?

Jake: *raises hand* Natural selection and every man for themselves?

Claudette: Okay, you don’t get to teach the new survivors.