#make-y0ur-choice

[wanderingsongbird]

Mistletoe kiss...~

Oh. Oh no..

"Miss Amanda~"

This booth was gonna be the death of her.

Oh, but what a sweet end this could be~

[mxshtyx]

"... I'll give you a beer if you let me boop your snoot."

@make-y0ur-choice

[mixtapejunkie]

@make-y0ur-choice

"I'm not stealing traps, I swear!"

[ask-dbd-adawong]

🍪

@make-y0ur-choice

“No offense, but I think I definitely prefer your traps in cookie form compared to actually having them on my head.”

[ Amanda received the ‘Bear Trap’ Cookie]

( @make-y0ur-choice )

[ask-organized-chaos]

[Previous Post] @make-y0ur-choice

Ren looked up at her, heart thudding in his chest as the weight of his situation came crashing down on him.

“I’m starting to get that, yeah.” He was definitely going to die here. As far as he could tell it might not be permanent but… Well, it would be painful. That fact alone was more than enough to leave him scared out of his mind.

Which, unfortunately, meant he was not in the best headspace to weigh costs and benefits. He was probably going to die, but there was a mannequin right there and if he somehow managed to get out of this alive…

He cast another glance up at the killer, trying to judge her position in relation to his own, before darting across the clearing towards the bait.

[jakebark]

starter | @make-y0ur-choice

The meat packing plant was chilly, dark, and labryinthian if you weren’t used to it, but it held valuable secrets inside.

Not secrets, necessarily, but things. Tools and materials. Mechanical and metal scrap and things to put them together with—like Evan’s realm, there were many things for someone to get their sticky paws onto, and much fewer traps for those sticky paws to get caught in. The perfect storm for someone like Jake to dig around in.

He didn’t know if the plant’s resident killer—the Pig—was present or not, and while he hadn’t seen any sign of her yet, that meant very little. Not only could she easily get the jump on him, because he knew there were security cameras that he could try to avoid but likely couldn’t avoid altogether, but also because she could be stealthy, and even with all of his sharpened senses on high alert Jake was constantly aware that he might have missed her.

He wasn’t far from his destination, Jake was pretty sure. He was familiar with this realm by the sheer number of times he’d wandered it, but he’d never explored it with the intention of committing it to memory. Still, if he was thinking right, just upstairs and a room away were the goods. He quietly slipped up the stairs, around the corner, and hoped that the killer would be nowhere around.

[jakebark]

[1] | @make-y0ur-choice

Jake’s hand lowered back to the table as the killer began approaching. He quietly slipped the screwdriver up into his sleeve, other hand making a distracting, flared motion at the same time. “What bullshit? Relax, Miss Piggy. It’s a joke,” he said, taking a step in the opposite direction. The muscles in his ears twitched in protest to the loud, grating noise, the pitch biting and far too high. A sound that might have been unpleasant before was now downright awful, and it made it difficult to focus on what she was saying.

Jake broke eye contact with the pig mask for just a moment, to assess an escape route, and then he looked back and shrugged. He took another step back and eyed another box of scrap on the table. “Well,” he said, clicking his tongue, “there’s a first time for everything.” And then he reached for the box, heaving it off the table and between him and the Pig.

It provided no large obstacle to block her path; the scrap that littered the ground was made up of as many small pieces like bolts and washers as it was larger metal frames and stints. The pieces scattered, however, like caltrops across the ground between them, and Jake took the opportunity to break into a sprint, boots squeaking against the smooth floor for a split second before he had traction enough to haul ass in any direction that was away from her. He wasn’t worried about coming back the way he’d entered; the place didn’t have many dead ends and looped back on itself often, so it was easy to get lost but hard to become properly cornered. He had stamina, though. He might not be the fastest or the most sure-footed, but he could still run.

He’d just have to watch his step, of course, because his opponent knew this area much better than he, and he didn’t want to get herded somewhere nor did he want to find out that the Pig did step traps for intruders, actually. He’d watch his step, and try and watch his back. While Jake was keen on running, too… if it came to fighting, he’d fight. At least this killer was mostly human still. He had something of a fighting chance here—better than his odds were normally, for sure.