[ the knife looks so small in evan's hand, though david couldn't say if that's because of the size of his hands or just because he's used to seeing him carrying bigger weapons — a little of both, probably — and he watches evan handle it with tired eyes. ]
[ until the slip about his dad. david pauses, recognizing the significance, but he's quiet for a little too long to make it seem natural when he responds. brain a little too slow reasoning out how to reply. it's not that he has no interest in any of this, so much as david unfortunately has some measure of respect for evan and his intense refusal to acknowledge his dad beyond the fact that he definitely existed at some point. he's never pushed david on his own issues really, so. he'll leave it alone. ]
Guess we've got a matching pair of that bellend's knives then. [ he makes an amused noise at the realisation. ] He's havin' a rough go of it, eh?
[ david's quiet. too quiet. the rage starts to boil - at himself, for fucking up, for letting the past seep in, and at david, for being there and hearing it and knowing. part of him is ready to grab a cleaver and split david's skull for that alone, even if letting him sit there and bleed to death internally might be a faster option.
but before he can unfreeze into explosive, violent actions, david speaks, and almost defuses the situation completely by ignoring the comment and trying to redirect it back to ghost face. evan doesn't believe for a second that david was so exhausted and lightheaded from blood loss that he didn't hear the comment, but maybe he'll forget about it thanks to those instead.
it's the best he can hope for. ]
Yeah. [ two knives gone. but there's always more. ] He comes after you for this one, tell him you left it in her workshop.
[ his voice is too calm, too careful, to suggest he's not bothered by his fuckup. ]
[ well as far as he's concerned, david doesn't owe him any more consideration than what he's just shown. he tilts his head, considering what to do now, ignoring the way evan still seems primed to snap at the slightest provocation. ]
Yeah-- yeah. Course.
[ he puts his hands down to slip off the table. not going to get any less woozy or injured sitting here. nor does it look like evan's gonna calm down any time soon. david doesn't really know what to do with that, or about it, and that bugs him a little. but he's too fucking tired and woozy to spend any real time thinking about it. ]
[ evan steps back when david lets go and moves to slip off the table. he doesn't try to keep him there, or argue with him, or suggest he's going to pass out and die from blood loss in the next five minutes. it's probably for the best if he leaves. evan's never been good at managing his anger. there was never a reason. everybody encouraged it.
someone's encouraging it now, in the back of his head.
he stares at the furnace as david moves to leave. ]
Yeah.
[ that's about all he can manage, still in that extremely calm, flat tone. he's not outwardly threatening, not reaching for a weapon other than the knife in his hand, which he'd probably be able to use but not in any particularly noteworthy way. it's not his, either. he doesn't want to use it.
but the rage is crawling through him. he's struggling with who to blame for it, because the right answer - himself - doesn't want to stick. ]
[ david lands on unsteady feet with a shock of pain through his middle, grabs the table and takes a second to stabilise himself. it's gonna be rough getting back to camp, if he even manages it. just hopes he gets pulled to trial sooner rather than later. ]
[ he glances up at evan, watching him watch the furnace. it doesn't feel great, the idea of just leaving him here like this, but what's he gonna do? hover around until this gut wound finally kills him? ]
[ doesn't really help that evan's anger is alluring to him in a way he refuses to think about, but david's also never seen it like this before and that's fascinating to him in a whole other kind of way. ]
Hey. [ david leans up so he can plant a quick kiss on the cheek of evan's mask, something about the gesture seeming stupid and funny. maybe enough so to cut through the tension a little. ] Thanks.
[ he notes what david's doing - everything he's doing, from the drop to the wince to the way he looks at him to the quick kiss that, against the mask, is barely more than a slight pressure. under other circumstances, like if he was just pissed off about ghost face or adriana or trespassing in general, it might have distracted him. annoyed him or made him snort out something resembling a laugh.
under the circumstances he himself created, he doesn't move. barely even acknowledges the thanks with a grunt. the world outside his head is fading out already as the anger sears through his veins.
when david leaves, if he takes his time to avoid the traps and worsening his injury, he'll eventually hear the sounds of smashing metal and cracking wood, but no voices. no roar of anger or even a string of swears. just destruction that ends almost too abruptly. ]
[ what david does is make it maybe two feet out of the workshop before he realises he's got nothing left and sits against a wall to pass out. he figures evan will be to preoccupied to find him out here, either die or get called to trial before evan leaves the workshop for anything. ]
[ it means he hears the crashing, the weirdly sanitized tantrum. a confusing lullaby for him to fall asleep to out in the cool, damp mineshaft. part of him wishing he could do something about this, another part of him deeply annoyed both by the fact that it's happening and that there's nothing to be done. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ until the slip about his dad. david pauses, recognizing the significance, but he's quiet for a little too long to make it seem natural when he responds. brain a little too slow reasoning out how to reply. it's not that he has no interest in any of this, so much as david unfortunately has some measure of respect for evan and his intense refusal to acknowledge his dad beyond the fact that he definitely existed at some point. he's never pushed david on his own issues really, so. he'll leave it alone. ]
Guess we've got a matching pair of that bellend's knives then. [ he makes an amused noise at the realisation. ] He's havin' a rough go of it, eh?
no subject
but before he can unfreeze into explosive, violent actions, david speaks, and almost defuses the situation completely by ignoring the comment and trying to redirect it back to ghost face. evan doesn't believe for a second that david was so exhausted and lightheaded from blood loss that he didn't hear the comment, but maybe he'll forget about it thanks to those instead.
it's the best he can hope for. ]
Yeah. [ two knives gone. but there's always more. ] He comes after you for this one, tell him you left it in her workshop.
[ his voice is too calm, too careful, to suggest he's not bothered by his fuckup. ]
no subject
Yeah-- yeah. Course.
[ he puts his hands down to slip off the table. not going to get any less woozy or injured sitting here. nor does it look like evan's gonna calm down any time soon. david doesn't really know what to do with that, or about it, and that bugs him a little. but he's too fucking tired and woozy to spend any real time thinking about it. ]
I'm, uh. [ hm. ] I should go.
no subject
someone's encouraging it now, in the back of his head.
he stares at the furnace as david moves to leave. ]
Yeah.
[ that's about all he can manage, still in that extremely calm, flat tone. he's not outwardly threatening, not reaching for a weapon other than the knife in his hand, which he'd probably be able to use but not in any particularly noteworthy way. it's not his, either. he doesn't want to use it.
but the rage is crawling through him. he's struggling with who to blame for it, because the right answer - himself - doesn't want to stick. ]
no subject
[ he glances up at evan, watching him watch the furnace. it doesn't feel great, the idea of just leaving him here like this, but what's he gonna do? hover around until this gut wound finally kills him? ]
[ doesn't really help that evan's anger is alluring to him in a way he refuses to think about, but david's also never seen it like this before and that's fascinating to him in a whole other kind of way. ]
Hey. [ david leans up so he can plant a quick kiss on the cheek of evan's mask, something about the gesture seeming stupid and funny. maybe enough so to cut through the tension a little. ] Thanks.
no subject
under the circumstances he himself created, he doesn't move. barely even acknowledges the thanks with a grunt. the world outside his head is fading out already as the anger sears through his veins.
when david leaves, if he takes his time to avoid the traps and worsening his injury, he'll eventually hear the sounds of smashing metal and cracking wood, but no voices. no roar of anger or even a string of swears. just destruction that ends almost too abruptly. ]
🎀?
[ it means he hears the crashing, the weirdly sanitized tantrum. a confusing lullaby for him to fall asleep to out in the cool, damp mineshaft. part of him wishing he could do something about this, another part of him deeply annoyed both by the fact that it's happening and that there's nothing to be done. ]