bloodandbrass

[ details would be better, evan thinks, but as he watches david try to push himself up and stand he figures it'll be a while before he gets that. the fact that david could send him running, though, and only get stabbed once that he can see for it, is impressive.

still. walking like that, he'll die too quick. ]

Sit down before you gut yourself.

[ with some confidence that adriana's not around - otherwise she would have showed up already, he figures - evan heads up the stairs toward her living space. he's been in there a few times, taking out his frustrations, so he knows what she has.

he's back only a minute or so later, the white sheets off her bed balled up in the same hand as a bottle of something he didn't bother reading the label of. they aren't perfect, but they'll do for long enough. either for a trial or to get his ass back to the workshop - entity only knows which one'll be first. ]

[ david stops moving at evan's insistence, turns to look at him in confusion only to see the man heading up to the cabin. a moment of wondering what he's doing ticks over and then david moves toward one of the worktables skull merchant has around the place and pushes some stuff off to take a seat, hesitantly putting his weight down first before he actually does plant himself on it. ]

[ he hasn't had a chance to take stock of his injuries so far, so focused on the whole knife in his gut thing, only really aware of some slashes on his arms because he can see them when he looks down. aware of the bloody nose only because he can taste it at the back of his throat. ]

[ he's tonguing at his split lip when evan comes back down, raises an eyebrow at the sheets in evan's hand but it's not a complaint. ]

She's gonna be pissed about that.

[ like the bloody fight leaving a mess in her space isn't gonna piss her off anyway. ]

[ the only response that gets is a dismissive grunt. evan wholly and completely doesn't care what adriana thinks; in a one-to-one fight, she can't beat him, although she's tried and done some not insignificant damage. but she trespassed on his property in a way he can't fully combat, so this is what she gets.

he hands david the bottle and eyes the stab, and the slashes. there's only so much even he can do for something too deep, but it won't really matter in the long run. either david'll bleed out or he'll go to a trial. either way, back to normal.

instead of making a comment he tears the sheets up somewhat inexpertly but well enough to serve as wrapping. ]

Get your shirt off. Use it for pressure. [ there's no ulterior motive there - there's just not enough sheets to do both. ] Tell me what happened.

[ that one, though - he just wants to know. david pretty clearly won. he'll listen while they - very carefully - get the knife out and the injury wrapped up tight. ]

[ david pulls a face at the idea of taking his shirt off, purely from a logistical standpoint. the shirts done for anyway, so he tears the hole around the knife bigger first and then pulls it over his head with a grunt of pain, balls it up and holds it firm just under the knife. ]

Think I interrupted him snoopin' around-- you know how sometimes you can just hear him? Didn't see him, but I could hear him--

[ he abruptly stops when evan starts to move the knife, breath catching in his throat. he didn't really feel it go in, though david sure as hell felt it while it was in there, but coming back out? jesus christ. ]

[ being gentle isn't something evan focuses on, because there's no point. getting the knife out quickly is more important than making sure it doesn't hurt. after that, stopping the bleeding takes precedence, which david's just about ready to for.

he doesn't make a comment on the reaction, either. it's not a breakdown. it's pretty impressive, although he's holding david to the standard of himself. ]

Snooping here? [ maybe it wasn't so important that david interrupted him, then. the more problems he causes for the trespasser, the better. he makes sure david's got his shirt pressed against the injury hard before starting to wrap the makeshift bandage around him, as best he can. ]

[ keeping your fucking mouth shut while dealing with agonising wounds is something david has plenty of experience with at this point. less stoicism and more just survival. he exhales heavily once it's out, some of the tension seeping out of him as he holds his shirt down over the wound. ]

Looks that way. [ his breathing's a little shaky, skin a bit clammy. it hurts a hell of a lot more than he's letting on, but david's good at that. lets him get away with a lot more than he should. ] No idea what he was after though.

[ whatever pain it might be causing, evan doesn't particularly care. he wraps the injury tightly, knowing that whatever pain that results in, it'll still be better than bleeding out thanks to ghost face. ]

Nothin' good. [ he glances at the fallen knife. got something for you - returning what david once snatched from him. although he doubts it got that far in david's head. ] So you snuck up on him for once.

[ even evan's managed it, once or twice, just by being patient. it's one of the more satisfying things he's done to the sneaky fuck. ]

Dunno if I'd put it that way.

[ david winces at the way evan wraps the fabric, the way it tugs and presses the wound, but david doesn't care all that much otherwise. it means the job's getting done, and that's what matters. ]

Just pretended I didn't know he was there. Waited for him to try gettin' the drop on me. [ he takes a breath, just to see how much breathing room he's got in this wrap, and gestures to adriana's, uh. props. ] Beat him round the head with one of them mannequin legs.

[ evan laughs at that. it's short and sharp, but it's a laugh, not just a faintly amused snort or grim smirk half-hidden under the mask. ]

Must have been nice.

[ he rips the end of the makeshift bandage and finishes wrapping it to tuck the end in under the rest. it'll do for now. there's still some sheet left, but probably not enough for all the slashes on david's arms. without asking, evan takes one arm to examine them a little more closely and see which are the worst. ]

'S not all you did, though.

[ unless he broke his skull open, there wouldn't be that much blood on the grass. ]

[ it's a stupid, little thing, but it really does make david just a bit proud when he gets a genuine laugh out of evan. not enough that it shows, but he feels it enough that it also annoys him. ]

Old bird has a lot of her weapons around.

[ he doesn't seem to even really notice evan taking his arm, instinctively turns his arm in his grip so he can see where ghost face got him worst. deep lacerations on the outside of his forearm. if he wasn't a seasoned fighter he'd be dead, that's for sure, ghost face doesn't fuck around. ]

[ with his free hand, david gestures toward some of the blood splatter across the consoles. ]

Decent way to put the hurt on someone, even if it in't fit for her purpose.

[ defensive wounds, evan thinks idly, and wraps up the worst of them even if it's not going to do much good at this point. protecting himself from a violent attack that came as retribution instead of a first assault.

he glances at the blood on the consoles, the fallen tools and half-made weapons. he can almost follow the fight. the stab must have ended it, but ... ]

So you put him down, and he stuck you. [ the bloody knife gleams in the purple glow coming from the workstation nearby. ] Must have been in a real bad state if he left it in you.

Thought I had him.

[ david says it with a tired laugh followed by a weak groan when that aggravates the knife wound. thinking about it, he's willing to bet it wasn't as bad as david thought it was, but it's still a lot of blood. and as far as he knows, ghost face is as close to "just a guy" as it gets with the killers, but they're still hardier, right? he thinks? ]

[ actually he has no idea, but david doesn't have the energy to think about that right now. ]

Think we both must've underestimated eachother. Had him on the ground over there, went to finish it...

[ he trails off a little, playing it back in his head. did he hesitate? turns his head to look over at the spot, the crashed through table, the blood on the floor, the tools and weapons littered around. no-- david shakes his head. he knows better. ]

[ still, the thought knocks the wind out of him a little. ]

Would've had him if I didn't fall for his little act, I think. Squirrelly fuck pretended to be out so he could stick me when I got close again.

[ it's easy enough to underestimate survivors, and ghost face. evan's done both more often than he'll admit to. but as he wraps some of the injuries with what little of the sheets he has left, he can imagine the fight. david's dangerous when he's pissed off, as relatively recent events have demonstrated. ghost face must not have seen it coming. all he probably saw was the opportunity to stab someone in the back.

evan's almost sorry he missed it. ]

That's about all he's got. Bet he's out there slowly bleedin' out.

[ the temptation to go looking, following the blood trail, is almost strong enough to make him think twice, but there's no point. even wounded animals are dangerous, and knife or not, ghost face might be at the point where he's really genuinely angry, which will make him a problem.

evan opts to stay where he is. david's in bad enough condition. ]

Next time, break his hands first.

[ david snorts and nods. ] I'll keep that in mind for next time.

[ because there's going to be a next time, david can feel it. probably several more next times. he doesn't think he's ever been on ghost face's radar as more than a nuisance before, but the guy strikes him as egotistical enough that this would shoot david way up the list. ]

Next trial with him's gonna be a shitter.

[ whatever. like his trials don't suck anyway. they all suck. david holds the bottle evan handed him between his thighs so he can get the cap off, smearing sticky, half-wet blood around the neck, and lifts it to take a drink. he assumes evan probably brought it over to clean up, but listen. maybe his insides could do with a bit of cleaning up. ]

[ evan doesn't say anything when david pops open the bottle and takes a swig, because it was there to drink. adriana doesn't keep the right kind of drinks to sterilize wounds; it's almost all wine. so it'll do to dull the pain enough, especially because even through the balled-up shirt and the bandages, he can still see blood oozing through.

he lets go of david's arm and steps back, looking at the blood, the mess, the remnant of a fight that nobody really won but that ghost face had to leave in a rush. ]

Didn't think there was any other kind.

[ his hunter's instincts, plus what david's told him, play out the fight in front of him. broken table, bloody tools, the consoles damaged by - and he can imagine it clearly - ghost face's mask slamming into them over and over again, cracking as it went, blood pooling out from the ruin.

but it cost david. ]

That wound ain't gonna close in time.

You got superglue at yours?

[ david takes another drink from the bottle, it's not really to his taste but fuck it. he glances again to the mess all over the place, part of him eyeing blood splatters and wondering which are his. ]

I'm not gonna bleed out that fast unless somethin' else happens.

[ he looks up at evan and then pushes himself off the table with a grunt when his feet hit the ground. he was gonna try and make it back to the fire if evan didn't respond, so he's fairly certain he could manage the walk back to evan's workshop at the very least. ]

Got pine tar.

[ which ... isn't going to be the same, but superglue is still a few decades off for him, and he's sealed up a few wounds with pine tar before. he watches david stand and start toward the workshop, and keeps up with him, watching for the traps he knows are there on the justification that if he's done this much, there's no point in letting david get in worse condition.

he makes sure to take the knife with him, though. that was, apparently, the gift. ]

How'd it feel breakin' his face?

[ it's slow going for david, which is maybe a benefit when it comes to not stepping in any traps, but otherwise kinda annoys him. he'd really rather just pick up the pace and get there quickly, but knowing his luck he'd pass out and fall face first into a bear trap if he even tried. ]

[ the question distracts though (distracts him from wondering what the fuck pine tar is too) and he makes an amused noise. ]

Felt fuckin' overdue. Piece of shit earned that and more the second he showed up, I think.

[ at least they're on the same page with regards to ghost face, even if that's in different books. ]

Whatever shit he gets in is earned.

[ 'overdue' is a good word to use, though. evan's under no illusions that he himself, by those same standards, probably deserves the same, but as far as he's concerned it's different. he has reasons, justifications, everything that makes his violence valid most of the time. ghost face? nothing like it. at least not that he's ever shared. ]

Break his face bad enough, he makes some real stupid noises. Like he can't breathe for how mad he is.

[ stupid and satisfying. watching him try to drag himself to safety is always a way to cheer evan up.

they get close to the mine and he stops david, picks up a trap hidden under leaf litter and shadow and leads the way in. ]

[ there's something almost sobering, just for a moment, about what evan says. something in the back of his mind wondering if he should be laughing at the expense of someone he was trying to kill not so long ago. should he really let himself be so blasé about the whole thing? ]

[ but the image is funny though, and david does let out an amused snort as he follows evan's lead down the mine. ]

Gonna have to keep that in mind for next time.

[ treating death like something to enjoy is the standard for most killers - most, but not all. evan, first among many, has always seen it as an amusement under certain circumstances. that it's not permanent here only makes that worse.

it never occurs to him, yet again, that david might not be comfortable seeing it the same way. besides, it's ghost face they're talking about. if every killer wants to see him dead to laugh about it, then every survivor should want the same thing as far as he's concerned. ]

Might just be that he really can't breathe.

[ a broken face will lead to that.

the workshop hasn't changed, and evan makes a straight line for a crate further back. it's got bottles in it that clink as he roots through them to find the right one. what he returns with is dirty, old, and stained black, but there's a fading paper label wrapped around it marking it as the pine tar he figures they can use. ]

I'd be pretty pissed about that, to be fair.

[ a vicious cycle. or something. david's kind of just responding on autopilot, moving to lean against a workbench and watching evan vanish into the back. it doesn't really help that he's hitting the end of his energy reserves either, but david's determined to get through this and get out before letting that show. ]

[ he takes a breath, eyeing the bottle in evan's hand when he comes back. amazing how little hygiene matters anymore when it comes to taking care of wounds, but everything will be reset again long before that could become a problem. ]

[ after some pause, mostly thinking about how that bottle looks like something concerning he'd dig out of his grandma's attic, david starts to unwrap the makeshift bandage around himself so he can get to it and gestures for evan to hand him the bottle. ]

[ evan doesn't hand it over, instead eyeing the wound once david has it unwrapped. it hasn't had much time to recover, and david's been walking, two things that make it worse. ideally he shouldn't be moving. but that's usually not a luxury around here.

he pulls the cork out of the bottle. it doesn't smell great, but there's much worse things just in the workshop. it's not hygienic and it won't do any good in the long run, but that's the advantage of this place, sometimes - there's not much in the way of a long run. no diseases, no infections. aside from what certain people can do. ]

Get the blood off. Much as you can.

[ the pine tar doesn't do a great job of sealing the wound and keeping the skin together, but it's better than most other options he has, which begin and end with welding it shut with scrap metal. he's done it before. not everything embedded in him is shrapnel. ]

[ it's not bleeding as much as before, but the pressure coming off means it's bleeding with renewed purpose. not exactly ideal, but it's not gushing? that's something. david spits on the sheet and bundles it around his fingers to start wiping up what he can, clearing up as much blood — dried and otherwise — as he can. ]

[ he winces at the touch of the tar to the open wound, still raw and tender, but he pinches the skin to help it adhere. which david super would not recommend, doesn't feel great, does make his vision blur around the edges for a second. ]

[ speaking of bad ideas though. seeing the way it doesn't fully seal the wound makes something else occur to him. ]

This shit flammable?

[ the pine tar will hold for long enough, he figures, even if he can see blood oozing through in slow trickles. here, it's always long enough, unless the entity decides that now is the time for david to get a reprieve.

evan smears another layer of it over the wound as david holds it closed and puts the cork back in the bottle. ]

Probably. [ the answer is yes, but ... ] Should be fine as long as you don't jump in the campfire.

[ besides that, it catching fire might be a good thing if it cauterizes the wound. he probably should have suggested that first, but david was the one looking for glue. ]

Keep it dry and it'll harden eventually.

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