[ the silence continues as david moves, and it's the silence of an empty world, an empty mine, an empty workshop. the silence devoid of life, instead of the silence of someone waiting without making noise. for now, he's in the clear.
the workshop is as it always is. organized, surprisingly so, even if the workbenches are cluttered with tools and fragments of traps. weapons and masks hang on the walls alongside old traps. the forge, a real-ass old-fashioned forge, glows dully along one wall. broken crates stacked in corners hold his tools of the trade that make the traps that much worse: bottles of dye and foggy liquid, springs and coils shining with something that may or may not be blood, and broken traps, repurposed for new uses.
one workbench has schematics for new traps and tools. another, bloodier, is one used for fixing up the inevitable injuries he winds up with over time that sometimes need a weld rather than a bandage. there's darker corners, shelves covered in dust and cobwebs and sheets. and no set traps - not in here.
survivors have scavenged from his workshop for ages now, adding to their toolboxes and sometimes their personal souvenir collections. it's frustrating to have gotten used to it. but a trap in here is one he might step in, so evan's opted not to set them. just outside - and there's other traps, too, instead of bear traps, that tell him things that survivors might not realize, like when someone's crept in the permanently unlocked door of his workshop. ]
no subject
the workshop is as it always is. organized, surprisingly so, even if the workbenches are cluttered with tools and fragments of traps. weapons and masks hang on the walls alongside old traps. the forge, a real-ass old-fashioned forge, glows dully along one wall. broken crates stacked in corners hold his tools of the trade that make the traps that much worse: bottles of dye and foggy liquid, springs and coils shining with something that may or may not be blood, and broken traps, repurposed for new uses.
one workbench has schematics for new traps and tools. another, bloodier, is one used for fixing up the inevitable injuries he winds up with over time that sometimes need a weld rather than a bandage. there's darker corners, shelves covered in dust and cobwebs and sheets. and no set traps - not in here.
survivors have scavenged from his workshop for ages now, adding to their toolboxes and sometimes their personal souvenir collections. it's frustrating to have gotten used to it. but a trap in here is one he might step in, so evan's opted not to set them. just outside - and there's other traps, too, instead of bear traps, that tell him things that survivors might not realize, like when someone's crept in the permanently unlocked door of his workshop. ]