#camperslasher

[camperslasher]

My Jason sketches so far, huzzah

+ maskless

Ignore the inconsistencies whoopsies...

[camperslasher]

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.

Sometimes slow on replies. I have 8 gazillion blogs to tend to.

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

Even in the DBD AU, he still has Camp Crystal Lake (as a map) because him not having his home is sad

#1 nature lover - mess with his carefully maintained ecosystem and he'll beat your ass

𖨆 𝑇𝐴𝐺 𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑇

#An intruder...? -- literate roleplay responses

#A chickenscratch note -- ask meme responses

#Ki ki ki ma ma ma -- solo posts (non-lit)

#J Man responds -- ask 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 (used for interactions with DBD characters even if he's not yet in the Fog himself)

#ooc post

(Anything with "//" in front of it is OOC - so, me, the mun, speaking.)

𐀪 𝑊𝑅𝐼𝑇𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝑃𝐴𝑅𝑇𝑁𝐸𝑅𝑆

@i-the-nameless-legend -- The Unknown (DBD)

@woven-spider-silk -- Sable Ward (DBD)

𖠋 𝑁𝐴𝑀𝐸𝐷 𝐴𝑁𝑂𝑁𝑆

🦋

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?

ᨒ↟𖠰 // Graphics by: @/lobster-graphics, @/pixopix, @/huraxy-dividers, @/carnage-hoard

[camperslasher]

Ooooh new guy...you look familair. Like a more put-together version of that trapper...

- @woven-spider-silk

Not having expected to hear anything but the gentle breeze through the branches and leaves, Jason turned sharply when he instead heard a voice break that tranquility, staring at the white-haired woman stood across from him.

... She looked young, so why did she have white hair? He thought that was for old people. Was it like how someone peoples' were pink or blue or green or red sometimes?

His fingers twitched, hand wanting to move to the machete at his hip, but... they weren't in his territory, no. He'd gone out exploring - tentatively leaving the lake behind for the time being in order to check out his surroundings. He was taken to new, confusing places all the time, with no opportunity to learn the layouts of them, so he figured he'd go out now and have a proper look around. That would let him get around easier when Mama put him with the Bad people.

But now he'd been intercepted.

It wasn't worth killing her over, not until she proved herself to be Bad, and... the only thing he knew was her white hair, and that wasn't Bad, just weird.

He didn't know what she was talking about, so he just stood there awkwardly, staring at her in silence. Then he slowly tilted his head.

[camperslasher]

[ Something has been in Jason’s cabin, his items have been strewn about some ripped and teared, there’s long claw marks left in his headboard. hunched over in a corner is the unknown waiting for the perfect moment to strike]

-

@i-the-nameless-legend

The second he opened the door, Jason paused.

... Dead silence in the night. He surveyed his destroyed cabin: his belongings, his collected items, his furniture - all knocked over and scattered around the rickety building.

Quietly, he unsheathed his machete. It could've just been an animal or two breaking in given by the claw marks in some places, and he couldn't blame them for that, but they could've not wrecked his stuff. But there was also a high probability it was Bad people. They were always up to something.

His grip tightened on the handle, the leather wraps creaking.

Slowly, he stepped into his cabin, looking around not at the destruction this time, but instead for something. Movement, eyes, a flash of skin or fur - anything. Was the perpetrator still here...? They must be. Something felt off. Something made him tense with unease, shoulders rising to his ears.

He was being watched. He could tell.

But by what...?

[camperslasher]

WELCOME, SPRING

↟𖠰˚☀︎ᨒ↟𖠰

The gentle waves lapped softly at the waterlogged legs of the dock, the surface of the crystalline lake shimmering in the moonlight. The steel-capped toe of a muddy boot lightly prodded at it, and he leaned forward, the old wooden boards creaking under the shift of his weight, to observe the ripples as they went out, lightly disturbing the water.

The night was quiet - silent aside from said gentle lapping, the chitter chatter of crickets hiding in the grasses, and the deep, hushed rattle of his own breathing. The night was cold - a pleasant chill brushing over his skin in a calm, tender caress. The night was foggy - a gentle mist sweeping overtop the lake’s surface.

The night was peaceful.

He liked when it was peaceful. There was nothing to disturb him, besides the occasional animal getting where it shouldn’t, but that didn’t bother him much. Like this, he could relax in the silence of his home - minding his own, maintaining his territory, and getting to rest in his comfortable solitude.

… What he didn’t like was when that peace was broken. When bad people came and stomped around, uncaring of his home and how they were defiling it, uncaring of the creatures that lived here with him, uncaring of how they were trespassing.

An open hand, set upon the dock, slowly curled into a fist against the boards at the thought.

My home. My home.

But the bad people didn’t care! Not at all. They were bad people, who do and say bad things without a care in the world about anything. Not about the nature they were disturbing - or even plain destroying, or about their vulgarity, or their crudeness, or their rudeness, or their immorality…

… But doing and saying bad things does come with consequences.

And their consequence, in those instances, was him. He punished them, taught them their lesson, as was demanded of him. They couldn’t just get away with things like that, and he was the exterminator who was unfortunate enough to get sacked with chasing around these annoying, bitey little pests that invade his home.

He didn’t want to deal with them! They were irritating! And scary, sometimes! But it was his duty. His duty to mother. And he could never disobey mother.

… But for now, all was nice. All was quiet, and cold, and foggy. There was nothing wrong. There hadn’t been for a while, as it had been winter. He liked the winter - very few of the pests came around in that time, and he was left all to himself for many months. He liked it best when the flowers were all in bloom and the animals had their babies, but he liked the winter second best, for the long-lasting peace it brought him.

But it wasn’t winter anymore. It was coming upon spring. Not the busiest season when it came to people bothering him relentlessly, but the second most. The people liked the summer best, but still, plenty came in the spring.

With an irritated huff, Jason stood back up and turned, marching heavily back down the dock, boots thumping loudly as he went to fetch his machete.

It was spring season, and he was due for a perimeter check.

↟𖠰˚☀︎ᨒ↟𖠰

[camperslasher]

// Can't believe I missed Jason's birthday...

[camperslasher]

Hey! I saw that you reblogged my drawing of you! I'm glad that you liked it! ❤️

// OMG YEAH ITS GORG

Thank you for posting it, loved seeing it ❤️

[camperslasher]

// sorry for disappearing for a sec, BUT, I'm back and also I've been JASONING IT in Dead By Daylight orirhhrhrjjrhr