[ david staggers to his feet a second time, it's harder this time, and he halfway considers just taking trapper's head and bashing it against the floor until it caves. stomping it instead maybe. but he remembers trapper's cleaver, where he'd dropped it, how he'd thought moments ago it would be a mercy to take it and kill him quick. ]
[ it's slow moving, david dragging himself toward the doorway of the workshop to pick it up. it feels both wrong and yet very right in the moment as he curls his fingers around the cleaver's handle, grip tight. secure. he turns, walks back with careful, deliberate steps to offset the way his body lists to the side, the slight limp. expression set in a hard line, not much anger but more... resolution. should've just done this to begin with instead of being a pussy about it. offering because he didn't want to make the choice himself, what a crock of shit. his father-- ]
You're right. Shoulda just done this without makin' a thing of it.
[ maybe he's stalling a little, but it's not real. not in any way that matters. and like fuck should he feel off about killing some bastard who's killer him how many hundreds of times. he sucks in a breath, and unless evan stops him somehow, david intends to make it quick but by no means painless. swinging down at him-- at his neck, his head. however many blows it takes for him to die finally. ]
no subject
[ it's slow moving, david dragging himself toward the doorway of the workshop to pick it up. it feels both wrong and yet very right in the moment as he curls his fingers around the cleaver's handle, grip tight. secure. he turns, walks back with careful, deliberate steps to offset the way his body lists to the side, the slight limp. expression set in a hard line, not much anger but more... resolution. should've just done this to begin with instead of being a pussy about it. offering because he didn't want to make the choice himself, what a crock of shit. his father-- ]
You're right. Shoulda just done this without makin' a thing of it.
[ maybe he's stalling a little, but it's not real. not in any way that matters. and like fuck should he feel off about killing some bastard who's killer him how many hundreds of times. he sucks in a breath, and unless evan stops him somehow, david intends to make it quick but by no means painless. swinging down at him-- at his neck, his head. however many blows it takes for him to die finally. ]