[ he sends a photo of her cabin. it's a mess, but the way a place gets messed up when somebody's looking for something specific. things pulled out, storage upturned, at least one "frustrated" hole from a knife being stabbed into the side of a container. ]
[ it takes a few minutes, but david sends another photo of the room. this time the bed's been shoved to an angle, bedding rumpled and mattress pushed a bit off the frame too for good measure. ]
[ it's satisfying to see her shit in disarray, and the bed's going to drive her over the edge. but seeing it makes frustration stir inside him.
why did he suggest that? where did the thought come from? the answer starts to unfold, and when he realizes it he slams down on the memory until it cracks. ]
good. i'd say smash the wine but that's more me than him.
take something. hide it somewhere. he keeps trophies.
[ david honestly doesn't question it, assumes it's just something evan's picked up over the length of their feud. he just thinks on the trophy thing and digs around until he finds something that looks personal and then tucks it away where it's unlikely to be found for quite some time. he knew, but it slipped his mind. sort of. ]
[ as he's considering it, he realizes he's helping david, of all people, with a potentially backfiring plan. even if it's meant to drive two people he loathes against each other, he also hates david.
although there's a difference between those two things. ]
no. he doesn't fuck with everything at once. leave something for him to come back to later.
[ this is less knowing the psyche and more having dealt with this exact bullshit for a while now. ]
[ david is good at making plans, better at thinking on his feet, but his forethought is nothing to scoff at either. as far as he can tell (or as far as jonah could tell after his little eyes lit up at the idea of poking around her tech) her drones work off radar, so david makes sure to come and go from the same direction that ghost face left after their fight. maybe it says more about his opinion of her than her actual intelligence, but he doesn't think it'd occur to her that he probably wouldn't come the same way every time. especially not when she's pissed. ]
[ ten, maybe fifteen minutes later, once he's sure he's in the clear, david finally replies. ]
Good thing her trials always last for fucking ever.
Be a real fucker if I got caught out now, wouldn't it. I'm off her little homestead now though. Unless you think she's gonna be venturing round the rest of your property.
[ it's not really a threat; there's no more traps around the workshop than usual. but he's still irritated by his own suggestion. the annoyance is trickling through. ]
[ david snorts at the message but he doesn't respond, even if a quick '😘' is tempting just because he knows it'd annoy evan. ]
[ the hardest part is getting across that deathtrap of a boundary, but being on the rest of the estate puts david significantly more at ease, he's been doing this part for years now. and lately he's become familiar with the traps to a new degree. not that david never steps in them anymore, but it's a comparative rarity. plus he's extra careful when he knows evan is about because it'd be fucking embarrassing. ]
[ he makes it to the mine, only closes traps when he's confident there's no other way around them, and when he gets to the door david sticks his head in first to see where evan is before he slips through and pushes the door shut behind himself. ]
Evenin'.
[ maybe? it's always dark here and time is fake anyway, it counts. ]
[ it bothers him that people can get familiar with his traps, and where he puts them, and how often he sets them. they shouldn't learn that. he shouldn't be giving himself away so easily.
but at the same time, there's leeway for the people who come down here for reasons that aren't constant harassment, theft, and attempted murder. that david, of all people, is earning that should be a bigger problem for him than it's become.
evan glances over from where he's dismantling a busted trap, the jaws bent out of place, the springs broken. the natural surge of irritation that comes when they meet is there, but it quiets. for the most part. ]
Is it? [ not that he knows time anymore. it's always night on the estate. ] This your time of day?
[ it never used to be his, but there's no more mines to trawl in the darkness. might as well make do with nighttime. ]
[ david shrugs off his backpack and sets it down on a workbench next to the one evan's working at — it rattles with the sound of glass knocking about as he does so, ignores it as he himself leans against the table and watches evan work. ]
Worst part of... [ he trails off, brows pinched when he catches himself. shakes his head like he's physically shaking off the memory of 5am practices in the rain and the cold. he never talks about his rugby days except in the vaguest terms so why was he so ready to share that without thinking? ]
[ mentally he redirects with a quiet snort and a shake of his head. ] Just not much of a morning person I guess. Yeah.
[ david cuts himself off, and evan doesn't question it. david's had the good grace to do so before, so it's only fair to return it ... for now. not that whatever he was going to say was probably relevant.
just something about nights. evenings. mornings. a piece of before. evan shrugs, and pulls a few fragments of a spring free from the mess in front of him. ]
Lucky you. No mornings here.
[ it's said as grimly as ever, with a little bit of an edge to it. no mornings. only nights, or in a few cases, bright burning midafternoons. sunset in one place. but never morning. never the break of day. there's probably a reason for that. ]
You brought somethin'.
[ he heard the glass clinking, and has a guess about what it is, but he's not going to jump to conclusions just yet. ]
[ he appreciates the grace, though david would be surprised if evan was interested in anything about his life before when, if anything, he's expressed mostly antipathy for all that. same reason david doesn't query that tone he takes talking about the lack of mornings, though it's not hard to guess evan was probably an early riser. got up and went to work at the crack of dawn. ]
[ and then evan mentions his bag and david glances at it thoughtfully. shrugs a shoulder. ] Pilfered a couple bottles while I was there. You want some?
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You often in here looking for stuff?
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no. just making her life miserable.
[ an old thought slithers in. ]
make it look like you checked under the bed.
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why did he suggest that? where did the thought come from? the answer starts to unfold, and when he realizes it he slams down on the memory until it cracks. ]
good. i'd say smash the wine but that's more me than him.
take something. hide it somewhere. he keeps trophies.
[ as if david wouldn't already know. ]
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[ david honestly doesn't question it, assumes it's just something evan's picked up over the length of their feud. he just thinks on the trophy thing and digs around until he finds something that looks personal and then tucks it away where it's unlikely to be found for quite some time. he knew, but it slipped his mind. sort of. ]
Any other ideas?
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although there's a difference between those two things. ]
no. he doesn't fuck with everything at once. leave something for him to come back to later.
[ this is less knowing the psyche and more having dealt with this exact bullshit for a while now. ]
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Wish me luck.
[ that's a joke. obviously evan's not going to do that. ]
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[ that's as close as he can get, really. ]
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[ ten, maybe fifteen minutes later, once he's sure he's in the clear, david finally replies. ]
Good thing her trials always last for fucking ever.
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some people fuck around too much.
you sticking around to watch or what?
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I'm off her little homestead now though. Unless you think she's gonna be venturing round the rest of your property.
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In that case guess where I'm headed now.
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[ it's not really a threat; there's no more traps around the workshop than usual. but he's still irritated by his own suggestion. the annoyance is trickling through. ]
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[ the hardest part is getting across that deathtrap of a boundary, but being on the rest of the estate puts david significantly more at ease, he's been doing this part for years now. and lately he's become familiar with the traps to a new degree. not that david never steps in them anymore, but it's a comparative rarity. plus he's extra careful when he knows evan is about because it'd be fucking embarrassing. ]
[ he makes it to the mine, only closes traps when he's confident there's no other way around them, and when he gets to the door david sticks his head in first to see where evan is before he slips through and pushes the door shut behind himself. ]
Evenin'.
[ maybe? it's always dark here and time is fake anyway, it counts. ]
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but at the same time, there's leeway for the people who come down here for reasons that aren't constant harassment, theft, and attempted murder. that david, of all people, is earning that should be a bigger problem for him than it's become.
evan glances over from where he's dismantling a busted trap, the jaws bent out of place, the springs broken. the natural surge of irritation that comes when they meet is there, but it quiets. for the most part. ]
Is it? [ not that he knows time anymore. it's always night on the estate. ] This your time of day?
[ it never used to be his, but there's no more mines to trawl in the darkness. might as well make do with nighttime. ]
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[ david shrugs off his backpack and sets it down on a workbench next to the one evan's working at — it rattles with the sound of glass knocking about as he does so, ignores it as he himself leans against the table and watches evan work. ]
Worst part of... [ he trails off, brows pinched when he catches himself. shakes his head like he's physically shaking off the memory of 5am practices in the rain and the cold. he never talks about his rugby days except in the vaguest terms so why was he so ready to share that without thinking? ]
[ mentally he redirects with a quiet snort and a shake of his head. ] Just not much of a morning person I guess. Yeah.
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just something about nights. evenings. mornings. a piece of before. evan shrugs, and pulls a few fragments of a spring free from the mess in front of him. ]
Lucky you. No mornings here.
[ it's said as grimly as ever, with a little bit of an edge to it. no mornings. only nights, or in a few cases, bright burning midafternoons. sunset in one place. but never morning. never the break of day. there's probably a reason for that. ]
You brought somethin'.
[ he heard the glass clinking, and has a guess about what it is, but he's not going to jump to conclusions just yet. ]
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[ and then evan mentions his bag and david glances at it thoughtfully. shrugs a shoulder. ] Pilfered a couple bottles while I was there. You want some?
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