[ 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.
[ 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. ]
[ 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. ]
[ 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. ]
[ 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. ]
[ 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. ]
[ 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. ]
[ evan isn't following his train of thought, which does make david briefly wonder if he's just gone insane from fatigue and blood loss, but it doesn't seem like that extreme a jump to him. he has no idea when he's gonna get called up next, sometimes it's fucking forever between trials and he wouldn't at all be surprised if this was one of those times. cauterizing the wound makes it less likely to reopen any time soon. ]
Torch it. [ wait-- that's not the right word. ] Cauterize it.
[ oh, well ... if he's actually looking for that, then why not?
evan gives him a brief appraising look, then turns to the furnace that doubles as a forge. there's not much in there right now, and the coals are glowing dully, but it doesn't take long to get them burning again with a few pumps from a cracking set of bellows and stirring them with a slim piece of iron, the latter of which he leaves in for a time.
this isn't particularly sterile, either, but it's probably better than the pine tar alone.
once he figures the iron's hot enough, he pulls it out and turns to david. ]
Hold on.
[ because this always hurts other people. (hard for it to hurt him anymore.) once he's reasonably certain david's not about to run, he uses the glowing tip of the iron to seal up the wound, or at least make it harder to bleed. ]
[ maybe he has gone insane. david gives that thought some consideration as he watches evan at the forge, plants his hands on the table to pull himself up to sit on it with a quiet noise of complaint, but at least if he passes out up here he's less likely to fall and crack his head on a table and fucking die that way. which would be both embarrassing and a waste of everyone's time. ]
[ the thing of it is, just about anything to do with pine is pretty flammable. david expected it to hurt a lot, sure, but the combination of the red hot iron and the igniting pine tar is a profoundly intense shock to the system that takes a moment to even register as the explosive pain it is. david grabs at evan, not to make him stop but just for something to hold on to, grip tight and fingers digging in hard. his voice catches in his throat, the strain obvious in the popping veins, he sure wouldn't mind screaming right about now but it doesn't happen. ]
[ so basically just an extremely bad time, even if it's thankfully quite short. ]
[ the second that burst of agony is passed, david's whole body sags. heavy, shaking breaths, body trembling. still holding on to evan as he lets his head fall forward and waits for his vision to clear. ]
[ he can tell david's holding back pain - a lot of it. it's almost impressive how much he's not screaming when it's clear that's all he wants to do. evan can hear it even in the silence.
out of respect for managing it, he says nothing, just pulls the iron back and tosses it back in the coals. the wound isn't in great shape, and now the tar is burned into parts of david's skin, but once the next trial starts it won't matter.
he lets david hold onto him. the grip doesn't hurt and in any case, there's not much else to grab except the table. it won't last forever, but for now, there's no argument. ]
[ what comes out of him the second any noise can is a breathless laugh, bordering just on the edge of hysterical. his skin is throbbing-- pulsing almost, but pain he can handle. it's a significantly smaller problem than bleeding out of a gut wound. ]
[ he's still holding on to evan — one hand on a bicep, the other on a shoulder — but his grip loosens a little. not that it seems like evan cares that much about it. ]
[ david takes the bottle with a nod and immediately tips back a large mouthful, his other hand staying where it is on evan's arm. cauterizing a wound hurts, he knows that, but the shock of having something literally ignite in said wound is something he could do with never feeling again. ]
[ evan makes a good point though. the thought of ghost face struggling because nobody will support him makes a grim smirk tug at his lips along with a breath of a laugh. ]
Wonder if he even survived this long. [ another deep drink. probably ill-advised all things considered, but it sure is doing wonders for the pain. ] That was a lot of blood.
[ especially here, especially killers. a killing blow needs to be a killing blow, in evan's experience; killers don't often bleed to death. ghost face is probably out there, choking on his own blood, dragging his almost-a-corpse toward whatever place will give him safety. there's not many these days.
but dead - probably not. which means that he's probably letting a fresh grudge against david grow. ]
If you killed him, he'll probably be worse about it than if you didn't. Just watch your back.
[ david snorts, unsurprised and unbothered. at least it'll take the heat off some of the others for a bit. ]
Gonna go badly for him. [ he shrugs, lets his hand slip from evan's arm to hook his fingers under the side of his waders to tug him a little closer. there's more interesting things here than ghost face, not that that's a high bar for david. ] In't much to hold over me and now I know for certain he's easier to beat than some people.
[ they both know david's not exactly the smartest or most sensible where his health is concerned — even though he knows better, he has a pretty fucking bad habit of thinking of himself as indestructible. like he can grin and bear anything if he just grits his teeth hard enough — so it probably shouldn't be a surprise that evan's comment falls on deaf ears. ]
Yeah. [ he shrugs a shoulder. ] And?
[ attractive, right. the pain in, well, just about everywhere has been turned down to a dull throb-- save the one obvious spot, a bright orange on a grey backdrop, but even that's better than what it was before. he's exhausted for several different reasons, noticeably slowing down, and yet david is completely convinced he'd be fine. ]
You don't want to?
[ he looks up at evan, squints at his mask in confusion. how could that possibly be a turn off? ]
[ it's blood loss, he thinks, and some of the wine - probably not much, though - and the leftover high of beating a deserving killer into pulp, that's leading david to make another bad decision. trespassing, getting into a fight with an armed killer, calling evan out to keep him from dying, wanting to cauterize an open wound slick with pine tar ...
not that evan's totally disinterested, but he can tell when things will just end up worse than they started. ]
Not when I know you'll probably be dead before I finish.
[ though he doesn't back up, still watching david, a little more amused than annoyed. ]
[ david considers arguing because he'd be fine — he can handle it, he can handle anything — but that's a pretty definitive no, and evan's not exactly one to budge. moreover though david's just got too much pride to argue about whether or not he can handle getting fucked by someone he's not convinced even knows his name. even if arguing would be ego more than anything too, it'd come across desperate and david would honestly rather die. ]
There's a way I haven't died yet.
[ he's teasing, obvious in the small smirk and the pull of his brows, fingers still hooked in the side of evan's waders even if he's not pulling him closer anymore. maybe it's the everything of the situation but this is kind of nice; calming in a way that offsets the tremor in his hands and the throbbing in his gut. ]
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[ 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. ]
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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.
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[ 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. ]
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[ 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?
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[ 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.
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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. ]
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[ 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.
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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. ]
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[ 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. ]
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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. ]
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[ 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?
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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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Torch it. [ wait-- that's not the right word. ] Cauterize it.
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evan gives him a brief appraising look, then turns to the furnace that doubles as a forge. there's not much in there right now, and the coals are glowing dully, but it doesn't take long to get them burning again with a few pumps from a cracking set of bellows and stirring them with a slim piece of iron, the latter of which he leaves in for a time.
this isn't particularly sterile, either, but it's probably better than the pine tar alone.
once he figures the iron's hot enough, he pulls it out and turns to david. ]
Hold on.
[ because this always hurts other people. (hard for it to hurt him anymore.) once he's reasonably certain david's not about to run, he uses the glowing tip of the iron to seal up the wound, or at least make it harder to bleed. ]
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[ the thing of it is, just about anything to do with pine is pretty flammable. david expected it to hurt a lot, sure, but the combination of the red hot iron and the igniting pine tar is a profoundly intense shock to the system that takes a moment to even register as the explosive pain it is. david grabs at evan, not to make him stop but just for something to hold on to, grip tight and fingers digging in hard. his voice catches in his throat, the strain obvious in the popping veins, he sure wouldn't mind screaming right about now but it doesn't happen. ]
[ so basically just an extremely bad time, even if it's thankfully quite short. ]
[ the second that burst of agony is passed, david's whole body sags. heavy, shaking breaths, body trembling. still holding on to evan as he lets his head fall forward and waits for his vision to clear. ]
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out of respect for managing it, he says nothing, just pulls the iron back and tosses it back in the coals. the wound isn't in great shape, and now the tar is burned into parts of david's skin, but once the next trial starts it won't matter.
he lets david hold onto him. the grip doesn't hurt and in any case, there's not much else to grab except the table. it won't last forever, but for now, there's no argument. ]
Stopped bleeding.
[ for now. ]
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[ he's still holding on to evan — one hand on a bicep, the other on a shoulder — but his grip loosens a little. not that it seems like evan cares that much about it. ]
Fuck-- fuckin' hell.
[ what a day!! ]
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he finds where david set the wine on the other side of the workbench and offers it to him. ]
It'll pass. [ probably, but then again, that also doesn't really matter here. ] Imagine the state he's in right now.
[ ghost face bleeding and struggling through the darkness because nobody will help him. it's always improved evan's mood. ]
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[ evan makes a good point though. the thought of ghost face struggling because nobody will support him makes a grim smirk tug at his lips along with a breath of a laugh. ]
Wonder if he even survived this long. [ another deep drink. probably ill-advised all things considered, but it sure is doing wonders for the pain. ] That was a lot of blood.
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[ especially here, especially killers. a killing blow needs to be a killing blow, in evan's experience; killers don't often bleed to death. ghost face is probably out there, choking on his own blood, dragging his almost-a-corpse toward whatever place will give him safety. there's not many these days.
but dead - probably not. which means that he's probably letting a fresh grudge against david grow. ]
If you killed him, he'll probably be worse about it than if you didn't. Just watch your back.
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Gonna go badly for him. [ he shrugs, lets his hand slip from evan's arm to hook his fingers under the side of his waders to tug him a little closer. there's more interesting things here than ghost face, not that that's a high bar for david. ] In't much to hold over me and now I know for certain he's easier to beat than some people.
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Should've been obvious from the start.
[ but causing doubt and fear and paranoia is what ghost face is all about, right up to the killing.
he watches david, not entirely certain the combination of pain, fading adrenaline, and alcohol was a great choice to bring down here. ]
You're half bleeding to death.
[ if he didn't notice. ]
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Yeah. [ he shrugs a shoulder. ] And?
[ attractive, right. the pain in, well, just about everywhere has been turned down to a dull throb-- save the one obvious spot, a bright orange on a grey backdrop, but even that's better than what it was before. he's exhausted for several different reasons, noticeably slowing down, and yet david is completely convinced he'd be fine. ]
You don't want to?
[ he looks up at evan, squints at his mask in confusion. how could that possibly be a turn off? ]
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not that evan's totally disinterested, but he can tell when things will just end up worse than they started. ]
Not when I know you'll probably be dead before I finish.
[ though he doesn't back up, still watching david, a little more amused than annoyed. ]
Fix that shit up first and we'll talk.
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There's a way I haven't died yet.
[ he's teasing, obvious in the small smirk and the pull of his brows, fingers still hooked in the side of evan's waders even if he's not pulling him closer anymore. maybe it's the everything of the situation but this is kind of nice; calming in a way that offsets the tremor in his hands and the throbbing in his gut. ]
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