[ he watches while she wraps up her ankle (it shouldn't be that bad; the traps around here are meant to catch and injure, not kill) and forces herself up. she's vulgar about it, but that's nothing new. most of them are worse than him when it comes to language.
evan just snorts at the comment instead. she left the trap closed and undamaged, so as far as he's concerned, the deal's still on. ]
I don't sleep.
[ none of them do, to his knowledge. at least not on the regular. he makes his way to the tower itself, checking the patches he made before (barely holding) and finding the new ones (bigger than the last time he checked). he still wonders if one day the tower's going to fall, or if the timelessness of this place will mean it holds up forever, even when all the stones are basically dust.
he sets down the bucket and his cleaver by the wall and starts judging where to start. ]
[ sleep is optional for them, too, but she's noticed she performs much better against most killers if got a few hours in.
she watches him like a hawk as he nears the tower that looks like it's going to collapse on in itself. she tries not to pay too much attention to his machete that's currently propped against the wall, and not in his hand. ]
Guess my luck's already running out. That's unfortunate.
[ just because her default state in a trial is injured doesn't mean she should be used to the pain, okay! though, she definitely walks like everything is a-okay, like she's good as new.
she realizes she's got her work cut out of her (never mind that he told her it wouldn't work anyway, she doesn't listen); the corvettes are in terrible fucking shape, the tires are flat and all crooked, and the hood is rusted to shit. it's a wonder she can even pop it open at all. oh, it's bad. ]
The tower's one of your 'other shit to fix', I take it? She looks old. Older than these babies. [ she gestures at the red cruisers. ]
[ every time he's out here there's some new problem. some new structural failure. he should be grateful that the beams inside are still holding up, but he's not. he should be grateful for a lot of things, but he won't be. this is his legacy, and it's disintegrating no matter what he does.
but at least it's something to do. ]
Everything here's before my time. [ he runs his hands over the cracks in the walls, figuring out where the damage is worst. ] Built to keep the company going. Warehouse, ironworks, this. Doesn't hold up great here.
[ neither does the mine, but that requires a lot less maintenance. as for the forest ... he'd rather not talk about that, given its current occupant. ]
Don't know why. Time don't pass here.
[ he feels out the depth of a long, ugly crack in the wall, grunts, and reaches down for the mortar. it won't hold for good, but it'll hold for now. ]
No, it doesn't. Time doesn't make sense here either.
[ she's nose deep in the car's guts, gloves on now as she pokes and prods to see what can be taken out, all while processing valuable, interesting information she's getting from mr. trapper for free.
it's amazing what someone can learn when they're not being threatened with imminent death as soon as they cross paths with a killer. she's gotta make more deals with these assholes in the near future.
she peeks over the open hood... she's paranoid. still doesn't trust him despite the conditional pact of civility they've got going on. ]
When was your time? [ and before he can say no: ] I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours.
[ he assumes that the survivors know almsot as much as he does by this point. all they do is run around and steal shit, listen in, go places they shouldn't ... almost as bad as certain other killers, except that he can tolerate them a little better.
he stays at the tower, patching holes, loosening unfixable stones and replacing them as best he can. it was never his job to do this, but it's not impossible. at least, in the short run, it's not impossible. ]
A long time ago.
[ sometimes the dates get mixed up in his mind. 1920? 1840? this place has so much bullshit in it, he can barely keep track of it most of the time. ]
19-something. Early. That -
[ he turns now, gesturing to the car she's digging through. ]
Was dumped here when I showed up. Never seen it before then.
Pretty sure these are from the 70s. What about motorcycles? Have you ever seen those before?
[ yui would've been more than fine working in complete silence, and she has no doubt he'd be the same way, judging by how all he does during trials is breathe, grunt and groan. but conversation with him so far has been rather –
pleasant, much to her dismay. he could tell her to shut her trap and get off his property at any point. instead he's actually entertaining her questions and satiating her curiosity.
she wonders if the war happened before he was taken by the entity, although she doesn't want to push her luck. she continues to pry dusty, rusted parts out of the car's engine and setting it aside. ]
So I'm probably a hundred years ahead from you, give or take.
[ a pause and then... fuck it. she'll push her luck. ]
[ but never seen one. slightly too early for that, although sometimes his memories suggest he's seen one anyway. maybe even ridden one.
but he's not going to humor her that far. there's being tolerant of survivors and then there's inviting disaster. he's starting to figure out where the fine line between those two things is. some people don't make his outside-trials life a living hell anymore when that used to be their sole goal, so he's probably better at it than some others.
but her question makes him pause in his work. the answer to that - the real answer - is a confusing, terrifying mess, gnawing at something in the pits of what's left of his soul.
fortunately, he's gotten very good at ignoring that kind of thing. ]
[ she likes cars, but she loves bikes. she misses the adrenaline rush, the risk. she guesses that's why everyone thinks she has a death wish. (and they're not wrong.)
death doesn't scare her anymore than it used to before all of— this. ]
Yeah?
[ honestly, she expected as much. they can't do what they do here anywhere else. for what is considered to be hell by yui and her cohorts, it must be heaven for these guys. of course this is home to them. ]
You like sharing your home with little miss Skull Merchant?
[ his relationship with this place is complex, these days, but fortunately for them both - more fortunately for him than her, really - yui opts to go for a subject he will talk about than one that'll just piss him off.
this one pisses him off too, obviously, but in a more immediate, targeted way instead of potentially soul-cracking kill-everyone-around him way. ]
If I ever get the chance to kill her for good, I'll do it.
[ it's said as a growl, and he slams the mortar trowel back in the bucket with way more force than necessary. ]
Sets up on my fuckin' land. Can't even spend her time somewhere else. Just fucks with me.
[ it's more offensive coming from another killer. ]
Even she fucks with you? I wouldn't care, usually, but my condolences.
[ for a second, it almost sounded like he was talking about her — she almost laughs.
yui had inquired about imai's presence on his land on a whim, like the words came out of her mouth faster than her brain could process what she wanted to ask.
but when he actually, genuinely answers her, she jams her wrench between motors and side-steps to get a better view of... him. how fascinating, that she was able to draw this reaction out of him and that it wasn't directed towards her? ]
Sounds like you tried to kill her once [ or many times??? tf does she know ] before, if you're saying it like that.
[ over the time he's been here, survivors have become more of a pain in the ass and an inconvenience than a true problem. although a lot of them have tried to keep that reputation. yui's no exception. but in the end, all they can do is cause minor problems. little frustrations he's started to be able to compartmentalize.
they didn't build houses on his fucking land. they don't take pictures of him, either, like certain other killers that see the wrong end of his cleaver on the regular. ]
Every time I can.
[ it's why she keeps away these days. he storms over to another part of the wall, already regretting answering questions but too far into it to take it back now. ]
Hot, [ said in the most deadpan way possible. she dives back under the hood to detach the motors; she already knows this thing isn't going anywhere, she knew this before leaving the fire but at least she can clean it up.
she wonders if the entity will just return it to its original, corroded state, turning any progress to moot. this should annoy her, but tinkering with something other than generators makes her giddy. gives her a sense of normalcy despite the absolutely fucking weird arrangement she's made with him. ]
I'd like to think I would be if the Entity allowed us to slam more than just a pallet on your faces.
[ though she can't speak for the rest of her fellow survivors. ]
[ it's an interesting idea. in trials, survivors are already a pain in the ass. pallets. debris to the back. these days, fucking grenades, even if they're just light and not shrapnel.
evan makes a disgruntled noise and drags the bucket closer. ]
Sure. Real lucky.
[ he knows they harass everyone - when unwarranted death and torture are constant and unstoppable, why not do something worth warranting it? - but it always feels like they target him in particular. that's part ego and part his longstanding presence, though. ]
[ maybe one day the entity will pull the biggest april fools' prank and do a little switcheroo. maybe it'll be four armed survivors chasing down one unarmed, vulnerable killer.
highly unlikely, though. ]
She doesn't have anything I want, except for booze. Have you seen her wine collection? Her bed?
[ she wolf-whistles and shoots him a shit-eating grin. she doesn't have to tell him that imai is really good at keeping her mouth shut, doesn't take yui's bait even when she's insulting her. just shuts her right up with a kill so swift that it's just so... boring. ]
But no. She's not nearly as fun to piss off as you.
[ he knows she's got a lot - at least, from a minimalist perspective. the wine cabinet is about her only positive feature to him. more than a few survivors have made trades with him stealing from her collection. not that he's a wine guy. it's just that anything alcoholic is generally a good trade.
but it annoys him - infuriates him, actually - that he's "more fun" to piss off. he turns to look at yui, the glare mostly hidden behind the mask. ]
How long you want this deal to go on?
[ he's already thinking about setting more traps around the cars, just for her. and that should be a bad thing. not about the traps, but that he's devolving to that level of petty payback. he should just kill her, like he used to. trespassers weren't allowed. one wrong move and they were lucky to die fast.
things have changed, and he knows that. it just irritates him that he's the one who's changed with it. ]
[ it's amazing he's asking her at all. actually, it's even more of a wonder that he's bothered to entertain her her questions and engage in a civil conversation with her to begin with. is this ✨character development✨ or has the trapper gone soft?
she'd like to test her theory on the latter and feigns contemplation for all of ten, twenty seconds before cocking her head to the side: ]
Why does it matter I want?
[ yui gives him a once-over and crosses her arms, her wrench tucked into the crook of her elbow. haha she's not on guard or anything!!!! ]
You can call it off whenever you want and I'll just go back to taking parts from your traps. [ even if she steps in them first... ]
[ he doesn't move, just watches her carefully. waiting for that wrench to be a problem - or try, anyway. ]
If there's a way to stop you fucking with them, I'll take it.
[ he's been sick of that for ages, but the simple fact is that killing them over and over again hasn't changed anything. they just get worse. so if there's another way to handle it ... ]
But I don't have to keep takin' shit from you while I let you be.
[ not ... that he has a real solution to that, either. walking away is soft. killing her voids the deal, and won't change anything. should he just shove her in the trunk of the car? it's an option. ]
Thought you wanted to try and get that running, anyway.
[ the wrench comes up, except it doesn't fly out of her hand like he might expect it to(?). she just points it in his direction. ]
You started it. I was just answering your question.
[ her tone tiptoes the line between accusatory and teasing, especially now that she's no longer waving her potential weapon around, although she doesn't let go of it either. ]
Anyway, I think you know just as well as I do that no matter how good I fix her up, she's not going to run without any fuel, unless you have some of that just lying around.
[ but god, does it feel good to touch and tinker with something that isn't a generator, or even his stupid traps for that matter. ]
Like I said, I just wanted something to keep my hands busy with. [ she points at the one that she did step in earlier with a nod. ] But if you don't want me on your property, Macmillan, and if you wanna keep it that way... Do you have any booze?
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no subject
evan just snorts at the comment instead. she left the trap closed and undamaged, so as far as he's concerned, the deal's still on. ]
I don't sleep.
[ none of them do, to his knowledge. at least not on the regular. he makes his way to the tower itself, checking the patches he made before (barely holding) and finding the new ones (bigger than the last time he checked). he still wonders if one day the tower's going to fall, or if the timelessness of this place will mean it holds up forever, even when all the stones are basically dust.
he sets down the bucket and his cleaver by the wall and starts judging where to start. ]
Just your luck I was already headin' this way.
no subject
she watches him like a hawk as he nears the tower that looks like it's going to collapse on in itself. she tries not to pay too much attention to his machete that's currently propped against the wall, and not in his hand. ]
Guess my luck's already running out. That's unfortunate.
[ just because her default state in a trial is injured doesn't mean she should be used to the pain, okay! though, she definitely walks like everything is a-okay, like she's good as new.
she realizes she's got her work cut out of her (never mind that he told her it wouldn't work anyway, she doesn't listen); the corvettes are in terrible fucking shape, the tires are flat and all crooked, and the hood is rusted to shit. it's a wonder she can even pop it open at all. oh, it's bad. ]
The tower's one of your 'other shit to fix', I take it? She looks old. Older than these babies. [ she gestures at the red cruisers. ]
no subject
but at least it's something to do. ]
Everything here's before my time. [ he runs his hands over the cracks in the walls, figuring out where the damage is worst. ] Built to keep the company going. Warehouse, ironworks, this. Doesn't hold up great here.
[ neither does the mine, but that requires a lot less maintenance. as for the forest ... he'd rather not talk about that, given its current occupant. ]
Don't know why. Time don't pass here.
[ he feels out the depth of a long, ugly crack in the wall, grunts, and reaches down for the mortar. it won't hold for good, but it'll hold for now. ]
no subject
[ she's nose deep in the car's guts, gloves on now as she pokes and prods to see what can be taken out, all while processing valuable, interesting information she's getting from mr. trapper for free.
it's amazing what someone can learn when they're not being threatened with imminent death as soon as they cross paths with a killer. she's gotta make more deals with these assholes in the near future.
she peeks over the open hood... she's paranoid. still doesn't trust him despite the conditional pact of civility they've got going on. ]
When was your time? [ and before he can say no: ] I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours.
no subject
he stays at the tower, patching holes, loosening unfixable stones and replacing them as best he can. it was never his job to do this, but it's not impossible. at least, in the short run, it's not impossible. ]
A long time ago.
[ sometimes the dates get mixed up in his mind. 1920? 1840? this place has so much bullshit in it, he can barely keep track of it most of the time. ]
19-something. Early. That -
[ he turns now, gesturing to the car she's digging through. ]
Was dumped here when I showed up. Never seen it before then.
no subject
[ yui would've been more than fine working in complete silence, and she has no doubt he'd be the same way, judging by how all he does during trials is breathe, grunt and groan. but conversation with him so far has been rather –
pleasant, much to her dismay. he could tell her to shut her trap and get off his property at any point. instead he's actually entertaining her questions and satiating her curiosity.
she wonders if the war happened before he was taken by the entity, although she doesn't want to push her luck. she continues to pry dusty, rusted parts out of the car's engine and setting it aside. ]
So I'm probably a hundred years ahead from you, give or take.
[ a pause and then... fuck it. she'll push her luck. ]
You miss home?
no subject
[ but never seen one. slightly too early for that, although sometimes his memories suggest he's seen one anyway. maybe even ridden one.
but he's not going to humor her that far. there's being tolerant of survivors and then there's inviting disaster. he's starting to figure out where the fine line between those two things is. some people don't make his outside-trials life a living hell anymore when that used to be their sole goal, so he's probably better at it than some others.
but her question makes him pause in his work. the answer to that - the real answer - is a confusing, terrifying mess, gnawing at something in the pits of what's left of his soul.
fortunately, he's gotten very good at ignoring that kind of thing. ]
This is home.
no subject
[ she likes cars, but she loves bikes. she misses the adrenaline rush, the risk. she guesses that's why everyone thinks she has a death wish. (and they're not wrong.)
death doesn't scare her anymore than it used to before all of— this. ]
Yeah?
[ honestly, she expected as much. they can't do what they do here anywhere else. for what is considered to be hell by yui and her cohorts, it must be heaven for these guys. of course this is home to them. ]
You like sharing your home with little miss Skull Merchant?
no subject
this one pisses him off too, obviously, but in a more immediate, targeted way instead of potentially soul-cracking kill-everyone-around him way. ]
If I ever get the chance to kill her for good, I'll do it.
[ it's said as a growl, and he slams the mortar trowel back in the bucket with way more force than necessary. ]
Sets up on my fuckin' land. Can't even spend her time somewhere else. Just fucks with me.
[ it's more offensive coming from another killer. ]
no subject
[ for a second, it almost sounded like he was talking about her — she almost laughs.
yui had inquired about imai's presence on his land on a whim, like the words came out of her mouth faster than her brain could process what she wanted to ask.
but when he actually, genuinely answers her, she jams her wrench between motors and side-steps to get a better view of... him. how fascinating, that she was able to draw this reaction out of him and that it wasn't directed towards her? ]
Sounds like you tried to kill her once [ or many times??? tf does she know ] before, if you're saying it like that.
no subject
they didn't build houses on his fucking land. they don't take pictures of him, either, like certain other killers that see the wrong end of his cleaver on the regular. ]
Every time I can.
[ it's why she keeps away these days. he storms over to another part of the wall, already regretting answering questions but too far into it to take it back now. ]
You ain't the only problems around here.
no subject
she wonders if the entity will just return it to its original, corroded state, turning any progress to moot. this should annoy her, but tinkering with something other than generators makes her giddy. gives her a sense of normalcy despite the absolutely fucking weird arrangement she's made with him. ]
I'd like to think I would be if the Entity allowed us to slam more than just a pallet on your faces.
[ though she can't speak for the rest of her fellow survivors. ]
So, lucky you.
no subject
evan makes a disgruntled noise and drags the bucket closer. ]
Sure. Real lucky.
[ he knows they harass everyone - when unwarranted death and torture are constant and unstoppable, why not do something worth warranting it? - but it always feels like they target him in particular. that's part ego and part his longstanding presence, though. ]
Couldn't waste your time pissing her off instead.
no subject
highly unlikely, though. ]
She doesn't have anything I want, except for booze. Have you seen her wine collection? Her bed?
[ she wolf-whistles and shoots him a shit-eating grin. she doesn't have to tell him that imai is really good at keeping her mouth shut, doesn't take yui's bait even when she's insulting her. just shuts her right up with a kill so swift that it's just so... boring. ]
But no. She's not nearly as fun to piss off as you.
no subject
but it annoys him - infuriates him, actually - that he's "more fun" to piss off. he turns to look at yui, the glare mostly hidden behind the mask. ]
How long you want this deal to go on?
[ he's already thinking about setting more traps around the cars, just for her. and that should be a bad thing. not about the traps, but that he's devolving to that level of petty payback. he should just kill her, like he used to. trespassers weren't allowed. one wrong move and they were lucky to die fast.
things have changed, and he knows that. it just irritates him that he's the one who's changed with it. ]
no subject
she'd like to test her theory on the latter and feigns contemplation for all of ten, twenty seconds before cocking her head to the side: ]
Why does it matter I want?
[ yui gives him a once-over and crosses her arms, her wrench tucked into the crook of her elbow. haha she's not on guard or anything!!!! ]
You can call it off whenever you want and I'll just go back to taking parts from your traps. [ even if she steps in them first... ]
no subject
If there's a way to stop you fucking with them, I'll take it.
[ he's been sick of that for ages, but the simple fact is that killing them over and over again hasn't changed anything. they just get worse. so if there's another way to handle it ... ]
But I don't have to keep takin' shit from you while I let you be.
[ not ... that he has a real solution to that, either. walking away is soft. killing her voids the deal, and won't change anything. should he just shove her in the trunk of the car? it's an option. ]
Thought you wanted to try and get that running, anyway.
no subject
You started it. I was just answering your question.
[ her tone tiptoes the line between accusatory and teasing, especially now that she's no longer waving her potential weapon around, although she doesn't let go of it either. ]
Anyway, I think you know just as well as I do that no matter how good I fix her up, she's not going to run without any fuel, unless you have some of that just lying around.
[ but god, does it feel good to touch and tinker with something that isn't a generator, or even his stupid traps for that matter. ]
Like I said, I just wanted something to keep my hands busy with. [ she points at the one that she did step in earlier with a nod. ] But if you don't want me on your property, Macmillan, and if you wanna keep it that way... Do you have any booze?