@cryslake
HE’S BIG . FUCKING MASSIVE . And Amanda would be a liar if she said that fact alone didn't put her on her toes. Pig head turns up, bows down. Jesus Christ. She only has more questions upon inspection. " Can I help you? “

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@cryslake
HE’S BIG . FUCKING MASSIVE . And Amanda would be a liar if she said that fact alone didn't put her on her toes. Pig head turns up, bows down. Jesus Christ. She only has more questions upon inspection. " Can I help you? “

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@cryslake
‘ I like your mask. . . ’
@cryslake / sc.
Gil knows most of the killers by now -- perhaps ‘personally’ is not the best word to use, but he knows them. Recognizes their shadows and their figures, their realms. Their print on the realm around them -- he’s noticed many of them don’t come too close to the campfire.
He doesn’t know much about this one -- he knows that it’s rare for more than a single survivor to make it out of his trials. There’s an air of brutality to everything about him -- and an underlying sadness that Gil can feel like OIL on his skin, across his senses.
The Demon slinks through shadows like he belongs to them, making his way to investigate the unknown. “ Do you feel sympathy for them? “
@cryslake liked [X] for a starter!
All things considered, it was fairly typical for Michael to pursue his prey as far as they chose to run. Wherever they went, he’d follow oh so patiently. He’d walk after them, kill them, and then go back to whatever he’d been doing beforehand. In this case, however, the one he’d been tracking had managed to slip out of sight. She’d taken advantage of his brief pause to arm himself with a screwdriver (sadly, it seemed as though knives weren’t too commonly found in pick-up trucks nowadays). While this new layer to his chase was certainly unneeded, he wouldn’t enjoy it any less.
Unideal weapon gripped tightly in his blood soaked right hand, Myers walked forward- his steady pace unbreaking as he passed by a sign that he didn’t bother to read. Walking into the seemingly abandoned clearing that the girl- his target- had run towards.
As he neared it, as the trees stopped obscuring his vision, he spotted a building. Several really, though the nearest caught his attention first. A cabin… one with the door slightly ajar. Head tilted that way, hidden eyes narrowing behind his mask. Was this really to be so simple? Perhaps his hopes were too raised. No matter, a kill was a kill. A kill would briefly satisfy the urge that burned behind his ribs like hot coals. So he approached, making a choice and tucking the screwdriver away into his pocket. He’d save it for the time being.
With a shocking amount of silence for one of his stature, Michael slipped through the slightly open door, taking in the layout of the room. The cabin. Did people really used to come here? To stay in here? If he wasn’t so focused on the hunt, he might wonder how long this place had been seemingly empty for.
Expression remained unchanged, even concealed as he scanned the room. Looking for where his prey may be… He hears it then. The sharp intake of breath from his left. Myers turns on a dime, both hands reaching out and catching the woman’s head between his hands. She’d tried to sneak out behind him apparently, an idea that clearly didn’t pan out as she expected as she attempted to push his masked face back.
The screaming started, loud and grating as Michael dragged her by the head out of the cabin and into the open area once again. Once there? He began to squeeze. Though he didn’t think anyone was around this seemingly abandoned camp, better to end this quickly and make himself scarce.
@cryslake said : steals a kiss
he doesn’t object. in fact, from his relaxed position in that ridiculous plastic lawnchair, he looks particularly tickled. wide, sharp and smarmy grin spread so tight across his distorted features, he looks more like he’s just slaughtered a house of delinquents rather than having just been on the receiving end of a surprise kiss. you don’t really expect that kind of thing when you’re fred krueger---- bringer of nightmares, charred to a crisp, and less appealing than a sweaty door-to-door salesman in a wrinkled suit. expect the unexpected, but there were limits on that saying. especially things one considered otherworldly in nature— like pigs flying or the sky pissing out cats and dogs. or like jason planting a quick kiss on his disfigured lips. really, it was the sheer strangeness of it that got him so amused.
any initial shock was quickly slathered over with that obnoxiously smug grin, generously painted over to conceal any hint at weakness. strange, sure. otherworldly ? definitely. unwanted ? no, christ, no. maybe it was the boredom talking, or maybe the scrambled eggs for a brain frying in his head, but this surprise was far from unacceptable.
unhooking his leg from where it had sat on his knee, fred playfully nudged jason’s thigh ( the closest thing to him, considering the stark difference in height ) with the tip of his boot, and craned his neck back further to look up at him fully.
❝ that’s it, big guy ? never struck me as the one and done type— considerin’ the body count on you. ❞ he croons, the grin on his face growing further, and further, until it was simply impossible for it to be that wide. a single bladed finger curls at him, slow, beckoning, in a languid come-hither motion.
❝ don’t be a tease, sugartits. i ain’t got the patience for it. get back here. ❞

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IT steps out of seemingly nowhere, long limbs going still as IT stands at IT’s full height of 7′1. A large red balloon bobbing slowly in front of IT’s face. A gloved hand hold an all too long white string between IT’s fingers.
“You seem... GLUM, how ‘bout a balloon?”
@cryslake // closed.
🍇 , 🥝 & 🍑
🍇 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃 ﹕ zarina always felt like she was walking on eggshells in order to fit in with other children. she never quite understood the guilt of telling her parents how much she loved their cooking when she had really thrown it out at lunch to avoid mockery, but she does now. at home was very loving, however ; she was especially close to her father & spent a lot of time with him.
it begun in her early teen years, but around fifteen she was able to throw away preconceived motions of ridicule & embrace herself completely. she noticed a big change in self - confidence & it’s still a big inspiration for how she acts as an adult & attempts to empower others. that being said, she’s embraced adulthood fully, but she sometimes wonders how her childhood would be different if she had just loved herself from the start.
🥝 𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒 ﹕ besides twitching her nose & scrunching her lip while in thought as well as fiddling with her cartilage piercings, there aren’t many visible quirks of hers. she doesn’t hide her talents, either, but she thinks that they’re trivial : apart from cinematography, zarina knows how to make a variety of mixed drinks from a brief relationship with a bartender in her early - twenties & she knows how to tie a knot in a cherry stem with her tongue. she’s also fairly good at sketching & draws alongside her notes to help her focus sometimes.
🍑 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ﹕ zarina is super concerned about her appearance, even if she is very humble about it. even in the fog she’ll turn the dirt & blood on her shirt into an accessory. she’s always taken care of her appearance, especially when striking an opportunity & doesn’t believe she needs to stop, regardless of being trapped in the entity’s realm.
@cryslake
Something feels off. This isn't a realm the Entity has sent them to before. There is a camp fire, and yet no survivors in sight to be huddled around it, awaiting their trial. Why were they here?
The sign looming above reads Lake and two other words before it the Spirit didn't have the fortune of learning in life. It helps none. All they had to do to know they were at a lake was look to their right. (The docks are as desolate as the fire). No instruction, no hints littered about. The only thing the Spirit can think to do is continue as if this were a regular trial. Look for survivors. Show no mercy.
They phase into the nearest cabin to begin their search, reappearing with an echoing breath and the crunch of broken glass.