#masquerade23

[jakebark]

@fogs-masquerade-ball

See, this dog can clean up! A little, anyway.

Getting back into the game by making this bastard uncomfortable in a suit jacket. I'll be doing mostly RP for this event, probably not much art, but if you're interested in an interaction shoot somethin' over!

ref for colors in case i do actually want to draw any of these interactions. others are free to do art as well (but i might not be able to respond with stuff of my own so just keep that in mind!)

this ref is missing the muzzle but otherwise it's accurate!

[deadeyesrealm]

@fogs-masquerade-ball

Well… what a better time to quietly get to know these prospects and their Entities than at masquerade. Deadeyes wouldn’t mind mingling for a while.

Don’t know how active I will be on this blog, but will definitely be sending them out some~ The cowboy has a few people to bother!

[jakebark]

Unlike in nature, this doe sauntered up to the wolf, a cup of punch in each hand. Kate had a habit of approaching wallflowers, and it seemed as though Jake had become her next target. "Well, you look mad enough to drown some kittens," she mused, offering him one of the cups. "Not havin' fun?" @wanderingsongbird

Jake watched Kate approach from a ways away, hoping the entire time that she was going to suddenly pivot and head her course another way, but the doe-masked survivor wouldn’t be so merciful to him. He didn’t mind Kate’s presence as much as he did some other survivors, but still. It was the principal of the thing.

He rolled his eyes at the comment, glancing skeptically at the cup of punch before he accepted it. “Too many people,” he said. “And I look stupid in this damn getup.” He brought the cup up to his nose briefly before he took a sip. “…Thanks, I guess.”

[jakebark]

[1] | @the-game-warden

Jake glanced between the outstretched talons and the Entity that controlled them, scowling. The sickly sweet way she spoke set his hackles up and ripped at his already-waning patience. He’d hardly been able to stand her calmly following him around for so long, and now that he was backed into a dead-end and couldn’t even escape with notions of boring her to leaving him be, his temper was flaring further.

“I don’t even see what we have to ‘chat’ about,” Jake snapped back. He wasn’t so foolish—well, not currently—as to try and slip past her and the claws that blocked his path, but the temptation was there. “I don’t have anything to say to you. You’re an Entity—if you’re so worried about figuring stuff out, you’ll figure it out better by crawling out of the damn sky and watching like you always do. Better yet—why don’t you talk to whichever one’s in charge of me?”

Jake didn’t step back as Kel approached him. His lip curled just slightly, barely and instinctively flashing white fangs, but he didn’t move except to tip his chin up to maintain an unblinking eye contact. “I’m not scared of you,” he said shortly. He knew what these things could do by this point, frustrating as it was, and his stomach twisted with how close Kel had gotten, but he couldn’t make himself move. Stubborness and anger overrode the fear, but couldn’t erase it.

But he damn well could pretend it did.

[jakebark]

[1] | @yourfavoritehorrormovie

If looks could kill, Jake would have an extra wish right about now. His lip curled, displeased.

“Fuck off. If I did have any ‘tips’ I wouldn’t give ’em to you,” Jake said, which was a little unnecessarily harsh considering he had no idea who this guy was, but he had no problems coming off as hostile. He didn’t want the man to be here and maybe baring his teeth would run the man away. He doubted it, but maybe.

“And fuck you—the only reason half the things kill me that do are because they’re all worked up on killer steroids and I’m not allowed to have a weapon.” Maybe more than half. He could take most of these bastards if they didn’t have the help of the Entity. That was the most annoying part about the Fog, or one of them at least—Jake wasn’t by any means weak, but here it didn’t matter. Frustrating.

[jakebark]

Seat - To ask my muse if the seat next to them is taken. To say Vigo needed a break was a understatement. They really did not expect to spend this evening playing mind games with other higher beings but lucky him, he manage to slip among the crowd and have a moment to breathe which brought him here - at the mess hall. The ram perked at the sight of another body next to him though, not wanting to be rude or invade the space of the stranger - he asked: " This seat isn't taken, is it?"

Jake was sitting at one of the tables, one delightfully empty so far, with one arm resting on the table and the other fidgeting a butterknife between his fingers. The chair was tipped casually on its back legs, though Jake settled it flat onto the ground when he was approached by someone in a ram mask. The knife stopped spinning in his fingers and he watched the other approach.

His answer to the question was nearly immediate when it was asked. “Yep,” Jake said flatly. “Taken. Sorry.” That voice sounded familiar, didn’t it?

[jakebark]

[1][2][3] | @ask-the-dweets

Pain rocketed up his fingers, his hand, his arm when he made contact. It was like he’d punched a brick wall instead of something alive, and Jake was fairly certain that the cracking sound hadn’t just come from the mask. Jake’s hand lowered and he didn’t make a sound despite how much that had hurt, just glared into the Entity’s golden eyes and snarled in return to the too-wide, too-smug grin. The eyes, their expression—they were familiar. The exact fucking same. For a second, they weren’t standing in the garden. They were in a swamp, and Jake was going to die. And then the Entity slapped him across the face.

His own mask clattered to the ground. Jake accidentally bit the inside of his cheek and saw stars with the force of it. He’d staggered, but not fallen. His uninjured hand raised to cover his stinging cheek. Jake’s shoulders trembled with how hard and shakily he was breathing. Each breath whistled through his teeth, jaw grinding. It was as much, or more, even, out of his fury as it was the pain and the fear. He was fucking pissed. He was pissed, and his face fucking hurt, and he was pretty sure he’d just broken his hand, and he could taste blood in his mouth but the one thing he didn’t want to fucking do was respect this grinning, smug little self-assured bastard.

“I might start respecting you when I’m fucking dead,” Jake hissed, looking up. “And I don’t owe you jack shit.” He wasn’t thinking clearly and he still didn’t care. After a moment of regaining his breath, he lunged at the Entity again, going for the collar of their shirt once more, but this time to attempt to yank them forward into an attempt to knee them in the torso—or wherever, really. He wasn’t picky.

[jakebark]

[prev][first] | @ask-the-dweets

Jake recoiled slightly as the Entity referred to him as some other’s hobby. Oh, he didn’t like that. It was bad enough that he had to think about some thing like that having authority over him and many more—and to think it had some special, vested interest in him was even worse. It wasn’t a surprise. What happened to him on the regular wasn’t normal, even by the Fog’s standards. But still.

He was showing too much that the other was getting to him, with how much he’d started leering through the mask. It wasn’t a secret that he hated them, but he didn’t need to look worked up about it. He took a breath through his teeth, and then the Entity turned to him, pointed at him, smiled an unnerving smile and spoke, and Jake stiffened.

Invested in him? For what? If this wasn’t his Entity, why did they care at all? Unless… His fingers twitched, and he put on a casual, lackadaisical smile and leaned back, hiding every scrap of uncertainty that was boiling as his mind wandered. “What an honor,” he said. “But, what are we pussyfootin’ around for? What’s got you so interested in me?” Just give me a straight answer, asshole.