A Hunting We Will Go

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A Hunting We Will Go

Who: TMA!Timcobi and Hickey!
Where: Tim’s ~~ruined~~ Cabin and then out and about
When: Forward dated slightly to Friday night.
Warnings: Stalking! Threats of violence!

“Okay, okay. Hour seventeen!” Jacobi declares and holds up two choices to Tim for the movie. Scream or an alternate universe version of American Psycho. “You can choose what you want.” He alternates his hands in front of Tim, back and forth, giving him big eyes.

They still have a whole evening of this and Jacobi doesn’t intend on stopping. Not for anything. Not even if there’s something twitching at the edges of his attention, something nagging on him, itching in his hands and feet. That’s easy to push down. That’s easy to slide away and not worry about. At home, he could endure a day’s worth of sitting and watching television because it normally came after he and Tim “went out” for the night.

Of course, that’s not the case here. They don’t get that luxury here. Tim’s surviving on scraps and Jacobi just gets games from his Warden that are fun but not as satisfying as the real thing. But he doesn’t have to think about it if he’s too busy watching slashers, so he’s maybe a little more intent on Tim picking something right the fuck now.

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You'd think being the avatar of 'literally everything dies so you just have to wait for it and it's yours' wouldn't be so impatiently tetchy about a goddamn movie marathon, but Tim has been enduring it for a literal decade and he's so sick of their Halloween tradition. It'd be fine if Jacobi actually rotates their movies but it was only ever the same set, for ten years.

He takes both DVDs, puts them together and baps Jacobi on the head with them. "Come on, Jacobi, this is still all the same old shit."

This is the part where Jacobi would laugh him off, tackle him to the ground, choose his own movie, something. But he's a little tenser. A little more on edge.

"Fucking fine," he snaps, reaching out to snatch them away. "I'll just pick one."

He lets Jacobi snatch them, putting his hands up in mocking submission.

"God, this was a lot easier to deal with on a full stomach," he grumbles, throwing both arms over the back of his couch and letting himself sink down. "You're so fucking obnoxious tonight."

Jacobi huffs, hitting him upside the head. "It's just....not fucking enough, you know? Chasing my warden around. Chasing Jon around. Walking through the halls? It's not - " He glances to the door, then just shoves the DVD in the player. "It's like - like - just missing the itch. Not quite getting it. I thought this would help. I don't know how. Just...something familiar."

He doesn't sit.

He takes the smack and just lets his head roll back into position.

"I'm surprised you haven't just gone for it, at this rate. Screw your warden and actually hunt someone."

"Zero," he reminds him. "Locked in a box for seven days."

He glances to the door again and that itch comes back. Only it's more than that now. It's an ache. A longing. A need. He's never ignored it before and he doesn't intend to start now.

"But fuck it."

Without waiting for Tim, he walks out.

Well, that gets Tim's attention, and he sits up sharply as Jacobi just leaves.

"Oh, shit." That's not regret - if anything, there's a thrill of excitement through him as he lurches to his feet and goes after Jacobi, grabbing his trenchcoat and sliding it on as he jogs to keep up.

Zero's worth it.

Jacobi's eventual target, the man who's currently known as E.C., is up on the deck, looking up at the stars. It's moments like this, when something weird's going on and the Barge is far too stifling, that his nostalgia fit for space is in full swing.

He's lost in his own thoughts for the moment—but not so lost that he won't be able to hear anyone approach.

Jacobi passes a few people here and there. Not who he wants. They're not right. There's no set victim in his mind; only an instinctual feeling of "right" and "not right."

He makes it up to the deck, pushing open the door and -

There.

He hesitates. Grins. Slows his pace and approaches.

Tim is right on Jacobi's tail for the entire chase, but as soon as he sees Jacobi's demeanour shift, from seeking to hunting, as they step on deck, his grin widens to the point of unsettling, and he falls back. Leans against the wall and watches E.C. intently, unblinkingly. This ought to be good.

The sound of footsteps distracts him a little from his thoughts. E.C. looks over...and oh great, it's Team Creepy.

He tries to give everyone here a little bit of grace. After all, Carol's his inmate, he knows he can't judge. But there's just not something right with those two.

"Here for the view?" he asks Jacobi, giving him a little nod of acknowledgement.

"No," Jacobi says darkly, paying Tim no mind. He knows better than to get in his way.

At least, he hopes so.

He walks towards him. Steps slow. Gentle. Careful. The world seems to fade from him as Jacobi takes him in.

"No," he repeats. "I think I'd rather tear you apart." He grins in the darkness. A feral, primal gesture. Threatening more than amused.

"It's better if you run." And he laughs, showing too many teeth.

This man may be different from Cornelius Hickey. But there's still some part of him deep down that shares similarities with the man. His drive. His ambition. The fact that if someone tells him to do something, his innate response is a 'fuck you' and sheer pettiness.

Though E.C. will take the opportunity to move away from the edge of the deck. Let's not get thrown off the edge today. He moves casually, but there's a tenseness in his being: he will straight up punch this man should he get too close.

"This is the Barge." The words 'you dipshit' aren't said, but heavily implied via his tone. "Give me a day and I'll pop back up again. And then what will you do?"

Jacobi's been punched. He heals. He's been stabbed. He heals. He's stronger than most and his endurance hasn't suffered. There's no fear as he approaches.

One step. Another.

Closer.

"You don't want to play tag?" he wonders. "How about hide and seek?"

He hates it when they don't run. But...if he has to, he'll force it. He lunges at him.

And E.C. manages to quickly scurry out of the way—at least for now. He's still carefully trying to inch back over towards the way down. Maybe if he gets close enough then he can make a break for it.

"I don't know what you're getting at," he points out, "but you're obviously getting at something." And he is obviously going to end up fighting off this man at some point. There's disdain and slight disgust in his voice as he asks,

"Don't you have something better you can do with your time?"

"We were watching a movie," Tim calls out, and his cheer seems so oblivious to the threat before E.C.. "But we got a bit stir-crazy. Bound to happen eventually, really."

Now this is getting fun. The man scurries out of the way like the little rat that he is and the Hunter's delighted by it. Absolutely tickled.

Jacobi sees where he's trying to go and, well, he moves over a little to let him. Make a break for it. He leaves E.C. an opening and makes no move to stop him from it.

"I just want to play," he laughs.

In all the confusion of waking up in a room that isn't his and not knowing what happened to all his stuff, E.C. hasn't actually asked the Admiral for his blaster back yet. There's just a knife, sitting back in his room, because he doesn't actually remember how to fight with one.

"Mate, I still don't see how the hell that's my problem. If you want to 'play' then piss off and go bother someone else."

And when he sees an opportunity to get the hell out of here, he takes it: E.C. lunges for the hatch to go belowdecks.

Tim laughs as well, as E.C.'s path takes him past the ghoul.

"Bad idea, mate~" His voice is sing-song as he calls after the poor, doomed man, and he's quick on Jacobi's heels when the Hunter runs ahead.

Sometimes it takes a little prodding for them before they run. But it's so, so good when they do.

"Tag it is," he shrugs, giving Tim a bright smile. Jacobi waits for E.C. to open the door, giving him that head start, but as soon as he does, he starts to run after him. It's not like he can get anywhere without Jacobi seeing him, and the Hunter just wants the chase.

What he is doing is trying to get to the first open door down below he can find so that he can shut it behind him. Granted, the first open door he sees is definitely to a broom closet at the far end of the hall but hey, that's a war of attrition that he's okay fighting.

E.C. is motoring to that broom closet, hurrying as fast as he can.

Jacobi doesn't see anything except his back. He deliberately stays a few paces back from him, not wanting to advance on him too much, not wanting to catch him, not wanting to end the chase. If he can make it linger for longer, for just a little longer, then it's that much sweeter.

He's not even breathing at this point. And yet, somehow, he laughs. It fills the short space between them, aiming for something deep and primal. It's the sort of sound that a human might not remember, but their bones do. Their feet do. It drives that instinctual urge to run.

E.C. continues to scramble, outright booking it down the hallway. That door's open...he thinks he can make it.

And he practically dives into the broom closet, hoping to shut the door as fast as he can, blocking off Jacobi from him.

Jacobi slows up, just a touch, letting the door close and E.C. get inside safely. He bangs hard on the door.

Once.

Twice.

Laughing as he turns to walk off.

Tim tries not to snort at that shitty little prank, but he does ruffle Jacobi's hair when the Hunter draws level with him again.

And leans in, so the warden can't hear: "Go on, one more big one. Make him wet himself."

There's a small, yet audible, sigh of relief during that pause after Jacobi bang on the door a second time.

E.C. sure as shit isn't going to leave any time soon, though. Not until he's certain they've left.

Jacobi hears both the whisper and the sigh and turns around, throwing himself at the door for one, last -

BANG.

And then he takes Tim's arm to drag him off before another, stronger warden comes sniffing, or before his own figures out his pattern.

Tim is nearly doubled over wheezing with silent laughter when Jacobi grabs him, and he doesn't resist being tugged away. He's much more ready to keep watching their shitty movies now.

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A Hunting We Will Go

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