#v. dbd

Jake is supposed to be somewhere in the middle east, at least that's where he would be if he hadn't got swallowed up by the fog. He's fought a couple of these assholes and so far he's wouldn't call himself overly impressed. They just need to get the job done and they can get out of here. It's what he tells himself every time he ends up in one of these trials. But he hears one of his teammates, some chick who already has been hooked, so he has to step in.

It hadn’t taken more than a few gruesome murders for Arthur to get the idea. Repair the generators and get out, or die in horrible agony on a hook. Arthur was reasonably sure he had died in the toxic fog and this was Hell, but “keep calm and carry on” was the way of the Englishman.

The killers were all a blur to him; he thought certain ones repeated, but it was still hard to tell them apart. They were all terrifying, and most of them huge, unnatural monsters, bigger than anyone Arthur had ever seen. He’d quickly realized that the best strategy to avoid getting murdered was the same as it had been with the police that patrolled Wellington Wells: to make sure they never noticed you. He wasn’t strong enough to fight back. All he had was that he was good at blending in to the background.

He didn’t think he’d seen this killer before--he felt like the pig mask would have jogged his memory if he had--but he’d managed to avoid her. His teammates hadn’t been so lucky. Shamefully, Arthur had used their deaths to keep himself hidden in the strange, dirty meat plant he’d found himself in. He didn’t feel as bad for the others he didn’t know when he knew they’d come back, but he was still trapped here alone with the killer, with four more generators to go.

Arthur had never survived this long alone before. He’d always either been one of the first ones to die, or gotten lucky and escaped. Would he either have to die or fix the generators by himself? That seemed impossible. She seemed to always know when he so much as looked at a generator. He had been pushed to his very limits just staying out of sight.

He was very much certain he was going to die, as he crouched behind a metal table, his hand slapped over his mouth to quiet his breathing. She was going to turn around and see him at any moment. He stared at her, his blood rushing in his ears, when it occurred to him: This killer was smaller than the others. It hadn’t seemed to stop her, but she looked almost human. In fact, she looked entirely human, just wearing a weird mask.

Humans in weird masks Arthur could take.

Being trapped in this hell hole was something- what something he still wasn't sure. When he has time out of the trials he spends a lot of time exploring. He likes to see what's around, likes to know that there's more out there than just sitting at some stupid ass campfire and waiting for some crazy fuck to kill you.

Unremarkable: For every successful escape of the Killer’s Terror Radius, Unremarkable gains 1 Token up to a maximum of 3/4/5 Tokens. Each Token grants a +15% visual effect that helps blend into the darkness.

“Don't mind me.”

Grin and Bear It: You come from a society where the illusion of happiness is paramount. Decreases the volume of your Grunts of Pain by 25/50/70%.

“It could be worse. I think.”

Take Your Joy!: You throw a psychoactive substance. Enter a Locker while empty-handed and press the Ability button to prepare a Joy Capsule. If hit, the Killer will be Blinded by hallucinations for 2 seconds. Range: 10 metres.

@umbrellamedic

"If by protection you mean 'baby-sitter', you can forget about it." Claire quipped, as her green eyes narrowed at Bertha. "But if we want to live, working together is the best option. Just don't make me regret this...Bertha."

Her appearance had changed, as she found herself wearing different clothing. Fingerless gloves, her thigh wraps, and her jean cutoffs, with her dark turtleneck underneath, and her cutoff red denim vest with her infamous "Let Me Live" stylized angelic artwork. "Nice. I always wondered if this get-up still fit me." She took the Browning from her thigh holster, popping the magazine, and checking chamber on the gun, before chambering a bullet, holding it at low ready.

Nikolai has always been a man of many hats, but this is the one that he hates the most. Playing Survivor, it was playing at some point but at another- at another he gave up his status for companionship, to right a wrong he didn't know that he would regret. There was no way for him to know that he would end up with someone who knows him so well.

There's blood in his mouth, he knows that the last stab hit him in a sensitive spot that no one else would know. With a wet laugh, his hand flexes, he grips the other's shirt. He'll fight him for the knife, because survival is always his primary objective.