[ david's concern goes completely unnoticed by evan, except for the bump, which makes him glance back toward the door. but it doesn't open, so he ignores it.
nobody's going to come down here while he's here, and very few people are going to come down while he's not - well, that's not entirely true, but most of them relegate their scavenging to the front of the workshop, avoiding the back out of fear of what they might find or fear of what kinds of traps he has there. in the past he put different traps in the semidarkness, ones that caught people by the throat instead of the ankle, and those memories have kept people away for the most part. so it's unlikely someone's going to find the little bedroom where david is.
and even if they remember it, why would they look inside?
the only problem might be ghost face, and he's a concern whether evan's there or not. but he won't be coming. not until he can get a knife buried somewhere that gives way. it's a pain in the ass knowing what some psychopath like that must be thinking, but it does give him that one step ahead of the game to keep out of ghost face's reach.
so while he doesn't leave, he does get called to a trial eventually, an hour or two after david passes out. and the workshop stays empty until david wakes up, or until evan comes back. he won't check the room when he does. either david will leave or he'll get grabbed into a trial; either way, it's not a problem. for the moment. ]
[ the problem is it'd be hard for david to deny that ghost face has managed to bury himself a little in his psyche. it's not like he was quieter than normal because he was feeling chill and sedate — if anything, sex like that should've had him making a hell of a racket based on previous experience. nor is he more wary of shadows when he's here for no apparent reason. somewhere ghost face is probably very amused, beyond the odd prickle at the back of his neck with the sensation of being watched, david certainly never gave much of a shit about him before. ]
[ regardless, he sleeps for a good few hours. david's become a light sleeper since being in the fog, but the combination of the quiet, the comfort of the bed, and evan thoroughly wearing him out means he sleeps deeply enough that someone would have to make an effort to wake him up. and he feels relatively well-rested for it. almost doesn't want to get out of bed when he does wake up, but david manages to convince himself it's... maybe not the better option, but he shouldn't just stick around here until something forces him to leave. ]
[ carefully he gets out of bed, grunts in complaint at the discovery that his hips still ache a bit, and goes about finding his clothes in the dark. gets himself redressed as far as getting his pants and boots on before he remembers evan usually has that bucket and rag around; he can at least clean up what's dried on his stomach and hope the smell doesn't linger before he leaves. ]
[ if evan's not there when he comes out of the bedroom, that's what he'll do — clean up, get dressed, and piss off. if he is there, well. that's still what david will do, just maybe not with such of a rush to leave. ]
[ the bucket's still there, cold as ever despite the heat of the workshop, and not as clean as anyone would probably like, but evan's not. whatever trial or trials have him occupied mean he's gone for a time, being smashed by pallets and hit by broken metal and putting lives on hooks for the entity's sake. it's what he does best. what he's always done best.
so david's alone, and without even someone in the darkness outside to watch him leave. as evan figured, ghost face is away, planning his next move. without evan there to keep the fire going in the coals, the light's dimmer. more like they're in a deep mine somewhere with only a handful of bulbs to light the way. or maybe hell coming up through the cracks hidden in the walls (watch the sparks).
it's still and silent, quiet and seemingly dead. for all the tools and masks and weapons littering the place, the evidence of a life once lived, there's not much life left in the place itself without its occupant. if the entity got tired of him one day, there wouldn't be much change, except that the coals would go ashen and the traps would shut and rust.
[ in which case, david's quick to wipe up and get dressed again — never keen on that cold water, tempted to try and heat it with that furnace but knowing him he'd break at least three things and he doesn't need evan to be (completely justifiably, for once) that furious with him. it's a quick thing anyway, and david looks around the workshop idly while he puts his shirt and jacket back on. ]
[ it's weird, but nobody being here does bother him. david's used to there always being people around, of the noise and movement of so many people, even when the campfire is at its quietest. the stillness and the quiet here is something deeply unnerving for david. ]
[ but whatever, he's done here. pauses to tuck that whiskey bottle a little deeper, because he's fairly sure anyone used to scavenging down here would notice the bottle among the others, but then he leaves. same as ever. ]
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nobody's going to come down here while he's here, and very few people are going to come down while he's not - well, that's not entirely true, but most of them relegate their scavenging to the front of the workshop, avoiding the back out of fear of what they might find or fear of what kinds of traps he has there. in the past he put different traps in the semidarkness, ones that caught people by the throat instead of the ankle, and those memories have kept people away for the most part. so it's unlikely someone's going to find the little bedroom where david is.
and even if they remember it, why would they look inside?
the only problem might be ghost face, and he's a concern whether evan's there or not. but he won't be coming. not until he can get a knife buried somewhere that gives way. it's a pain in the ass knowing what some psychopath like that must be thinking, but it does give him that one step ahead of the game to keep out of ghost face's reach.
so while he doesn't leave, he does get called to a trial eventually, an hour or two after david passes out. and the workshop stays empty until david wakes up, or until evan comes back. he won't check the room when he does. either david will leave or he'll get grabbed into a trial; either way, it's not a problem. for the moment. ]
no subject
[ regardless, he sleeps for a good few hours. david's become a light sleeper since being in the fog, but the combination of the quiet, the comfort of the bed, and evan thoroughly wearing him out means he sleeps deeply enough that someone would have to make an effort to wake him up. and he feels relatively well-rested for it. almost doesn't want to get out of bed when he does wake up, but david manages to convince himself it's... maybe not the better option, but he shouldn't just stick around here until something forces him to leave. ]
[ carefully he gets out of bed, grunts in complaint at the discovery that his hips still ache a bit, and goes about finding his clothes in the dark. gets himself redressed as far as getting his pants and boots on before he remembers evan usually has that bucket and rag around; he can at least clean up what's dried on his stomach and hope the smell doesn't linger before he leaves. ]
[ if evan's not there when he comes out of the bedroom, that's what he'll do — clean up, get dressed, and piss off. if he is there, well. that's still what david will do, just maybe not with such of a rush to leave. ]
no subject
so david's alone, and without even someone in the darkness outside to watch him leave. as evan figured, ghost face is away, planning his next move. without evan there to keep the fire going in the coals, the light's dimmer. more like they're in a deep mine somewhere with only a handful of bulbs to light the way. or maybe hell coming up through the cracks hidden in the walls (watch the sparks).
it's still and silent, quiet and seemingly dead. for all the tools and masks and weapons littering the place, the evidence of a life once lived, there's not much life left in the place itself without its occupant. if the entity got tired of him one day, there wouldn't be much change, except that the coals would go ashen and the traps would shut and rust.
it's something evan doesn't think about. much, anyway. ]
no subject
quick to wipe up and get dressed again — never keen on that cold water, tempted to try and heat it with that furnace but knowing him he'd break at least three things and he doesn't need evan to be (completely justifiably, for once) that furious with him. it's a quick thing anyway, and david looks around the workshop idly while he puts his shirt and jacket back on. ]
[ it's weird, but nobody being here does bother him. david's used to there always being people around, of the noise and movement of so many people, even when the campfire is at its quietest. the stillness and the quiet here is something deeply unnerving for david. ]
[ but whatever, he's done here. pauses to tuck that whiskey bottle a little deeper, because he's fairly sure anyone used to scavenging down here would notice the bottle among the others, but then he leaves. same as ever. ]