corvidae-cowboy - Tumblr blog

[corvidae-cowboy]

< prev || @ask-organized-chaos

Jake mulled over his options for a long moment, before he nodded curtly. He took the deck of cards from the killer’s extended hand, a cautious gaze fixed on Blair all the while.

Well… he knew none of the survivors were currently injured- this fact left him without any visible auras to gesture towards. Jake could either risk a bluff, find them himself, or ask for a little help…

He huffed tiredly, fetching the remaining primrose seeds from his vest pockets. This was a much bigger risk with him not being familiar with the flock… who knew if these birds would even understand him, let alone accept a bribe from a stranger? At best, failure would embarrass him in front of the killer- at worst, the killer would take it the wrong way- and stab him, or else enact some other painful torment.

Jake eventually muttered a good ol’ “fuck it” under his breath, turning to the murder of crows watching them.

He called out to the corvids, in some odd mix between a cattle dog’s signal-whistle and a ‘pspspsp’, with his hand outstretched towards them. The beasts watched him for an agonizingly slow moment, before one finally glided down from the canopy. It perched on his forearm, beady eyes hawkishly studying both Jake and Blair. It tilted it’s head, and Jake gave it the primrose seeds as a reward for its courage.

He tilted his head to whisper something inaudible to the crow. It paused, before cawing in answer and flying off in a trail of smoke and feathers, soon becoming obscured by the trees above.

Jake sent one last look in Blair’s direction, before returning to his generator. “She’ll scout out from above… When she finds them she’ll come back, then you can go fuck off to finish your side of the deal.”

[corvidae-cowboy]

Jake batted the pendant away from his face, glancing up at the killer with a weary expression. He’d stood his ground despite Blair’s flaunted ability, carelessly determined to work on the generator regardless of the killer’s presence. However- at the mention of the deal, he actually seemed to pause his work.

Getting out from a trial unscathed was rare for him, especially when he was so isolated from the others. Ratting out teammates wasn’t unheard of, although it was deemed immoral- rightly so. Despite his closed off attitude, Jake didn’t really have anything against the others. They were just normal people like him, trying to survive a horrible purgatory. These weren’t the usual survivors he knew though, and it was unlikely he’d ever come across them again. As long as the killer shut up about his actions, the others wouldn’t even know that it was his fault in the first place… If they knew what was best for them, they’d know how to properly loop- or else learn fast.

He really wished that the crows in these trial grounds were of his own flock, as his’ crows would have helped him out by now. These birds simply watched him from a tree, their beady eyes curious about such a new face. He sent the canopy-dwelling birds a swift look of disappointment.

After he’d made up his mind- Jake stood up from the generator, crossing his tattooed arms and turning to face the killer with a shuttered expression. “You’re absolutely sure—“ A crooked brow, disbelieving. “—and, how exactly do you think I could trust you or your word- that this isn’t some… lie or trick or whatever?” Jake leaned casually on the generator, mirroring the killer’s previous casual stance.

< prev || @ask-organized-chaos

The man held his silence with fortitude, not even sparing the killer a grunt of acknowledgement… at least until his lips curled up at the thought of calling the other survivors his friends. They were a means to an end, nothing more, and nothing less. He couldn’t afford to watch friends die so often. Sticking together was just how they knew to survive, but he was a survivalist, he knew how to work independently, and anyone else tagging along would only hinder his chances.

Jake’s hand twitched in his annoyance, and he hissed in pain when he fumbled over a finicky gear, dropping the piece and nicking his thumb in the process. The stray part tumbled into the inner workings of the machine, and Jake knew he’d fucked up when he saw something spark.

He ducked to shield his face at the resulting explosion, wiping his bleeding finger on his jeans soon after.

“…I work best alone.” He finally grit out, annoyed at the killer’s constant chatter. He dug around in the generator’s interior, grabbing the mangled part and tossing it aside with a bit more force then necessary. If it flung in the direction of the killer, it was probably an accident… probably.

“Are you gonna just stand there? Or are ya gonna act like a normal killer and attack me, or whatever.” Jake sent another venomous glare his way before resuming his repairs, substantially more pissed off now that the killer had managed to pry words from his mouth.

[corvidae-cowboy]

Note: blog URL has been changed to Corvidae-Cowboy! I find Saboteur doesn’t really fit this Jake, so—

🫡 so long The-Cowboy-Saboteur, you will not be missed! ✨

There’s no internet in The Fog, but that’s alright. We have crows for a reason. Jake Park is never alone when he walks into the woods, our calm spirit has company.

Cowboy Jake Ask Blog is now open!

important information beneath the cut.

Blog is SFW & NSFW for canon typical themes. Blood and violence is tagged appropriately.

Roleplay/interaction is open and encouraged! Canonical characters are preferred, but I’m fine with OCs or Crossover or whatever floats your boat! Have fun with it! Feel free to shoot me a dm if you’re interested in planning something, I’m fine with both sending and receiving starters!

Mun is a batshit perfectionist so asks may take a while depending on how much effort I put into them. If it takes over two weeks for me to answer don’t be surprised 💀 I might be doing a full comic for it.

Government assigned disclaimer that mun is Filipino-Canadian and not Korean in the slightest, so at the very least I share broader experiences of being an Asian 1st gen immigrant. I, mun, HEAVILY relate to Jake Park as a character, so genuinely half of this stuff might just be me projecting my own shit.

...

Character Information:

Names & Aliases: Jake Park, Feral, Cowboy Jake, Calm Spirit Age: vaguely late 20s Gender/pronouns: Male, He/Him Sexuality: Gay

Role: Survivor Time In The Fog: roughly around six years Perks: Calm Spirit, Inner Healing, Botany Knowledge, Dark Sense

Personality: Jake is quiet and withdrawn, but do not take that as an invitation to undermine his value within the group. Beneath the sediment of his self-sabotaging behavior and Unaddressed Emotional Constipation, Jake Park will sacrifice anything for those he truly cares about.

Reputation: Jake holds a reputation for being independent, self-isolating, and harsh on those who make mistakes in trials. However, those who know him well enough have come to see someone deeply loyal, altruistic, and unrelenting, beneath those cold and calloused walls.

Extras: Jake holds a natural inclination for building bonds with animals, as he often prefers their presence to that of the other survivors. Through much bribery and conversation, Jake has built a reputation amongst the murders of crows within the fog as a trustworthy friend- and as such, they seem to follow him around like loyal lap dogs.

appearance: A ragged and scruffy-looking man with medium-length dark hair and tired brown eyes. He has traces of roughly shorn facial hair as if he doesn’t look in the mirror. He has a small cut across his cheek that never seems to bleed or heal, and unrecognizable tattoos cover his arms as if they were inked by the fog itself.

clothing style/appearance: Jake prefers a utilitarian, comfortable, and casual style. He doesn’t often dress down, preferring to be equipped and ready for a trial at any given moment. His usual dress consists of sturdy jeans, reliable leather cowboy boots, an ashy grey flannel, and a studded leather vest. He wears a camouflage scarf around his neck and face no matter the outfit, as he enjoys the anonymity of a half-covered expression.

...

Prompts! (to be expanded in future)

[prank] - Have your muse pull a prank on Jake

...

Other Associated Blogs:

@askchrisredfield mun is a friend of mine!!! send them some love

@rabidgeneralgrievous // mun’s main blog where I reblog bugs and cowboys

@algebra-of-infinite-night // mun’s wraith askblog

[corvidae-cowboy]

< prev || @ask-organized-chaos

The man held his silence with fortitude, not even sparing the killer a grunt of acknowledgement… at least until his lips curled up at the thought of calling the other survivors his friends. They were a means to an end, nothing more, and nothing less. He couldn’t afford to watch friends die so often. Sticking together was just how they knew to survive, but he was a survivalist, he knew how to work independently, and anyone else tagging along would only hinder his chances.

Jake’s hand twitched in his annoyance, and he hissed in pain when he fumbled over a finicky gear, dropping the piece and nicking his thumb in the process. The stray part tumbled into the inner workings of the machine, and Jake knew he’d fucked up when he saw something spark.

He ducked to shield his face at the resulting explosion, wiping his bleeding finger on his jeans soon after.

“…I work best alone.” He finally grit out, annoyed at the killer’s constant chatter. He dug around in the generator’s interior, grabbing the mangled part and tossing it aside with a bit more force then necessary. If it flung in the direction of the killer, it was probably an accident… probably.

“Are you gonna just stand there? Or are ya gonna act like a normal killer and attack me, or whatever.” Jake sent another venomous glare his way before resuming his repairs, substantially more pissed off now that the killer had managed to pry words from his mouth.

[corvidae-cowboy]

Feral huffed a scoff-laugh. “Well… I did live on a ranch if that’s anything, but sadly this old things just my rainy day stable mucking attire.” He grimaced. “Cursed to stick with the damned hat and spurs, gotten used to ‘em enough by now though.” The crow on his shoulder cawed as if laughing at his ill-fated luck, dodging Feral’s halfhearted swat.

“I think the damn birds claimed me as one of their own flock if I’ll be honest.” He momentarily glanced up to the treeline, a gesture revealing where a murder of crows rested in the branches silently, watching them. “I barely talk with the other survivors anyways so, guess it’s kinda true.” He shrugged, silently hoping he wasn’t the outlying weirdo loner hermit Jake in this place. If he was an average-joe finding out that his clone was a weirdo loner hermit, he’d never let them live it down, but he doubted that the scruffy man before him wasn’t a weirdo loner hermit. It seemed like a pretty core part of his (their?) identity, at least from Feral’s point of view.

The red eyed crow on his shoulder croaked inquisitively, leaning forwards to look at the new Jake with a tilted head, before leaping with outstretched wings in an attempt to land on Bark’s shoulder.

[<prev] | @the-cowboy-saboteur

Six winters—six years. Jake had stopped successfully counting a while ago, but he knew it was quite a bit more than six. So this one was newer, then. Not very new, granted, six years was plenty of time to become accustomed and used to the Fog.

Jake’s eyes moved to the crow as it cawed again, but his attention did not linger on it for long. It was a curious thing, how close it was and how relaxed it was around another survivor, something he wasn’t used to seeing with other people. But that was to be expected. More importantly than the off-hand observing of the crow was the way Cowboy over here almost looked like he was sizing Jake up, or judging him, or something. Jake’s eyes narrowed a little bit, and the question took him aback.

Jake didn’t know how to explain his current situation and sound like a sane human being. ‘Yeah, I’m a dog most of the time, and for some reason the Entity decided to make me half-way there even as a person.’ He’d sound like he’d really lost his mind, which maybe wasn’t too far from the case but he’d like not to look the part quite so early. But also, he was reasonably certain this version of himself had never met an alternate before, and… well, Jake had never given up the chance to cause a little bit of mischief.

He grinned, showing off teeth that were far more canine in dentition than human. “Sure,” he said. “I look that plain in another universe?” He took a step forward. “I mean—shit, you don’t look special at all. Don’t tell me you’re just a regular-ass human.” Jake wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to lead the man on, but it would be damn entertaining if he could unnerve him with some bizarrely-spun tale of werewolves or something.

[corvidae-cowboy]

Rp Starter | @ask-organized-chaos

Blair always liked trials in the Red Forest. It was dark and cool, with light rain showering the place in a comfortable spray, and he was always reminded of the woods he called home his whole life.

He’d tried to visit the realm outside of trials in the past, but the Huntress (who he eventually learned was named Anna) didn’t take very kindly to visitors. Which was a shame, really. She seemed like the type to enjoy a good cup of tea.

In trials it was still pleasant enough, but there was that underlying itch to get a job done, and the trial grounds were wide ranging. There were plenty of places for survivors to hide, and he could go minutes without seeing a single person.

Though this time he seemed to get lucky. Not more than a minute after the fog formed him in Blair spotted a cowboy hat poking over the top of a nearby generator, bobbing up and down with the movements of its owner.

He smiled and walked over, leaning over the other side of the generator to look at them. “Hi there,” he said, his braid hanging loosely over his shoulder as he looked down at the cowboy. “What’s your name?”

Jake had lost track of the survivors earlier, but he’d brought a shroud of binding to the trial, having the sneaking suspicion that he’d meet someone new this round. His well acquainted teammates had hurriedly fucked off to the other side of the map, and he’d snuck away to gen rush on his own, as he was practically built to do.

He’d passed some crows on his way through the swaying grass between the trees, and he gave them primrose seeds to feast on like they enjoyed. However, these weren’t the familiar birds he knew in his slice of the fog. They were friendly of course, just not his birds. He missed his birds already.

The cowboy eventually stumbled across an untouched generator nudged safely between some trees. He glanced around wearily before kneeling down to start working on fixing the stubborn mechanisms of the objective.

—

A quiet growl of surprise slipped from his gritted teeth. At the sound of the killer’s voice Feral had nearly lost his grip on the finicky cogs he was screwing back onto the protesting machine. He tended to get lost in the noise of the pistons and wires. So he felt sort of pissed at these new corvid friends, for not warning him of the stranger sooner.

He tossed a sideways glare at the pale man, a silent “fuck you” before he returned to steadily working on his generator. He was nothing if not dedicated to his work, and although he knew not to underestimate the folks around here- this killer seemed sorta, gangly. Like a city-slicker with a penchant for beanies, inconvenient piercings, and aesthetically pleasing photos holding lattes with swirling designs in the foam. He’d known his fair share of this type in college. He wasn’t intimidated by an excess of tattoos and dark coloured clothing, and he let a confident smirk flit across his features. The knife at the killers side was really the only thing he was weary of, and he was prepared to bolt at the first sign of trouble.

[corvidae-cowboy]

The cowboy Jake cocked an eyebrow at that, crossing his arms as if he were really considering the man’s words- before he barked out a bubbly laugh. “-and I’m the protagonist of a western paperback!” He shook his head with a cocky smile, a Georgia accent blanketing his words. “I… I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t, at this point. Enough bullshit happens around here on the daily.” He’d brushed aside the implications of Bark’s words like a duck shedding water. As a survivalist above all else, Jake knew how to adapt to the situation. If this other Jake was in fact inhuman or monstrous, it would just be another note on a long list of Feral’s internal “what the fuck”s.

He reached up with one hand to scratch the red eyed crow under it’s chin, as if it were some old crusty lapdog. In return the bird let out a harsh purring sound, too gravelly to be compared to a dove’s cooing. He looked back at his lookalike after a moment, his expression a mirrored grin, save for the fangs of course. “How long have you been around these parts then, brother? You befriend the crows too?”

[<prev] | @the-cowboy-saboteur

Six winters—six years. Jake had stopped successfully counting a while ago, but he knew it was quite a bit more than six. So this one was newer, then. Not very new, granted, six years was plenty of time to become accustomed and used to the Fog.

Jake’s eyes moved to the crow as it cawed again, but his attention did not linger on it for long. It was a curious thing, how close it was and how relaxed it was around another survivor, something he wasn’t used to seeing with other people. But that was to be expected. More importantly than the off-hand observing of the crow was the way Cowboy over here almost looked like he was sizing Jake up, or judging him, or something. Jake’s eyes narrowed a little bit, and the question took him aback.

Jake didn’t know how to explain his current situation and sound like a sane human being. ‘Yeah, I’m a dog most of the time, and for some reason the Entity decided to make me half-way there even as a person.’ He’d sound like he’d really lost his mind, which maybe wasn’t too far from the case but he’d like not to look the part quite so early. But also, he was reasonably certain this version of himself had never met an alternate before, and… well, Jake had never given up the chance to cause a little bit of mischief.

He grinned, showing off teeth that were far more canine in dentition than human. “Sure,” he said. “I look that plain in another universe?” He took a step forward. “I mean—shit, you don’t look special at all. Don’t tell me you’re just a regular-ass human.” Jake wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to lead the man on, but it would be damn entertaining if he could unnerve him with some bizarrely-spun tale of werewolves or something.

[corvidae-cowboy]

Jake scoffed dramatically, shaking his head. “Six winters, give or take.” Was this what he really looked like in another reality? It was kind of sad. Maybe this him never got the hang of homesteading. He seemed a bit scruffy, and almost… canine? Was he older or younger?

His feathered friend cawed apprehensively, shuffling from one shoulder to the other. Jake looked over the other Jake’s fashion choices with a crooked brow. It wasn’t that cold in the fog. So much wool was bound to be uncomfortable to run around in. The grey infinite scarf around the other’s neck caught his eye though. That was special, that was what let him actually relax (as much as a Jake ever could relax) and trust the guy’s words to be honest.

“So… I have fangs in another universe?” He offered the question up placatingly, decidedly not apologizing for the pebble. The other Jake did startle him after all.

Jake stumbled into a campfire after a trial, rubbing his neck and hissing. It had been Myers that got him last trial, suddenly, the way he did sometimes. He’d just turned a wrong corner and that had been it.

Oh well. The faster he got back to the campfire, the better; though this wasn’t his campfire. It was… ever so slightly different in a way he couldn’t describe, but could just tell with all the experience he had with the fog. It wasn’t unusual, though. The fog frequently spit him out at strange campfires with stranger people, which he didn’t care for. It was for this reason that he decided to slip away and take a walk.

He didn’t expect to happen upon anybody, either, but happen upon someone he did. Who the hell else would be out here? He wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t nervous about making his presence known. A step cracked a branch, on purpose, to get the other’s attention, and he tilted his head just slightly. “I didn’t know anyone else liked to just take walks in the woods,” he said. “Who are…?”

- @jakebark

—

“Who’s there?!-” He spoke sharply, around the same that the intruder trailed off.

Amongst the thick mist and sparse brush of the woods, this stranger spun around to face the source of the disturbance. He wore a weathered felt cowboy hat and grey infinity scarf obscuring his expression, but perhaps strangest of all was the awful crow perched happily on his shoulder, eyes a vibrant scarlet.

Jake Park looked over his wolfish counterpart with a calculating glare that quickly shifted into dawning realization.

“Well… This is new.”

For once, he was truly unsure of the situation. He’d grown used to the challenges of trials and the bleak expanse of the fog- but nothing could ever come close to the sudden discovery of another you traversing the woods.

“This isn’t a hallucination- The Entity isn’t just fucking around with me again, right? You’re actually like- real?”

He knelt down to pick up a stray pebble, hesitantly tossing it at the other Jake.

[corvidae-cowboy]

OOC:

Here is an absolute mess of a reference sheet for my boy! The guy! In full glory! HAGDHHSSKKS slay

He’s quarter Filipino on his mother’s side because MAN am I projecting hard, dbd release a pinoy survivor challenge

[corvidae-cowboy]

A trio of lil shits! We’ve got three Jake’s in the dbd blogosphere that sort of match up to Jake’s three perks in the game, so I decided to draw them all together!

Featuring: @the-cowboy-saboteur aka Feral, @the-game-warden aka Knife, and @jakebark aka Bark

[corvidae-cowboy]

OOC:

Did a silly little Draw Your Ocs of all the Jakes. From left to right we have @the-game-warden, @jakebark, and yours truly. Iron Will, Saboteur, and Calm Spirit respectively.

base and credit included below the cut <3

@peribytes

[corvidae-cowboy]

hi jake. what's your opinion on kissing men

“I mean… Take a wild guess, I ain’t shy about it. mmffh-.”

[corvidae-cowboy]

This crow of yours. Do you see and feel the Entity's presence in it?

That… is a very good question.

I think that the crows are The Entity’s attempt at creating a living being. As terrifying as that concept is- they wouldn’t be all that much different from… The trees in the woods? Or, the realms we visit in trials?

I know that we can feel the entity’s presence… In the fog… and in the basement… and in the campfire- However, I would like to believe that the crows somehow gained life in their own way… No clue how, or why- but they are real animals. They can talk, yeah. The Entity communicates with them, sure- most definitely the case, actually.

…I would like to not think about it, in general. There’s enough things to stress over without an eavesdropping snitch…

The crows either seem to not have a problem with me- or they’re playing a hell of a long con.

[corvidae-cowboy]

Come in, come in and celebrate the holidays with the DbD ask blog community! This is an all inclusive event for all kinds of Dead by Daylight ask blogs on tumblr, filled with seasonal locations, special events, a dance and more!

Who can participate?

Everyone with a DbD related ask blog! All killers, survivors, Entities and observers are welcome, canon and OC!

When will it take place?

The event will last throughout the entirety of December, but you can extend it on your own blog however you wish!

Will there be a discord server?

Yes! The link will be uploaded soon in a seperate post!

Locations are under the cut

Keep reading

[corvidae-cowboy]

Send ‘Truth!’ or ‘Dare!’ along with either a question or a challenge for my muse.

[corvidae-cowboy]

Send 🌿 to accidentally get caught under the mistletoe with my muse.

[corvidae-cowboy]

Jake stumbled into a campfire after a trial, rubbing his neck and hissing. It had been Myers that got him last trial, suddenly, the way he did sometimes. He’d just turned a wrong corner and that had been it.

Oh well. The faster he got back to the campfire, the better; though this wasn’t his campfire. It was… ever so slightly different in a way he couldn’t describe, but could just tell with all the experience he had with the fog. It wasn’t unusual, though. The fog frequently spit him out at strange campfires with stranger people, which he didn’t care for. It was for this reason that he decided to slip away and take a walk.

He didn’t expect to happen upon anybody, either, but happen upon someone he did. Who the hell else would be out here? He wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t nervous about making his presence known. A step cracked a branch, on purpose, to get the other’s attention, and he tilted his head just slightly. “I didn’t know anyone else liked to just take walks in the woods,” he said. “Who are…?”

- @jakebark

—

“Who’s there?!-” The man spoke sharply, around the same time the intruder trailed off.

Amongst the thick mist and sparse brush of the woods, Jake spun around to face the source of the disturbance. The scruffy man wore a weathered felt cowboy hat and grey infinity scarf obscuring his expression, but perhaps strangest of all was the awful crow perched happily on his shoulder, eyes a vibrant scarlet.

Jake Park looked over his wolfish counterpart with a calculating glare that quickly shifted into dawning realization.

“Well… This is new.”

For once, he was truly unsure of the situation. He’d grown used to the challenges of trials and the bleak expanse of the fog- but nothing could ever come close to the sudden discovery of another you traversing the woods.

“This isn’t a hallucination- The Entity isn’t just fucking around with me again, right? You’re actually like- real?”

He knelt down to pick up a stray pebble, hesitantly tossing it at the other Jake.