[ a clear response like that makes him double down, or at least keep going. doesn't say anything, doesn't mock, doesn't gloat - just finds that angle again and doesn't stop. the entity's gifts mean he's a borderline unstoppable killer, but they have other benefits, too.
the hand on david's chest moves up to his jaw and makes an effort to break the biting kiss by tilting his head back to bare his throat. evan doesn't pull away, but he moves his mouth down to bite at his throat again instead, leaving bruises in new places, sometimes over the other ones, like the spark of pain might only help make this better.
there's only so quick even he's interested in going, but harder has less of an issue, and so as the noises he can hear get more breathless and desperate he leans into that. shifts their angle minutely if it gets a better reaction, holds steady when it doesn't. his hold on david's knee loosens a little, but he keeps it pushed where it is as he finds a fresh grip with a fresh spot to bruise in turn. not that bruises last, but the idea of them is there, and sometimes the phantom memory, long after everything else has faded. ]
[ he tilts his head with really only the barest pressure from evan's hand, welcoming the mouth at his throat eagerly. a hiss at the first bite, a sharp shit-- along with his nails scrabbling at the back of evan's neck, the base of his skull, when one of them really sends some sparks flying. in the moment he finds himself wishing evan had hair, something he could bury his fingers in, something he could grip in a fist and pull, but he settles for bringing his hand up to the back of his head. encouraging, like earlier, to keep doing what he's doing. ]
[ with nowhere to muffle his noises anymore, david is, of course, louder too. especially when evan starts fucking him harder. practically cries out at first like it's a surprise, settles into shaky moans that feel like they rattle around in his chest before they make it out of his mouth, breathless and gasping. ]
[ david lowers his free hand into his lap, wraps it around his cock, but he thinks-- he thinks he could come like this, if he lets it happen. the realisation makes a familiar swell of annoyance bloom, but more importantly it stokes something hot in his gut that makes him change tack, takes his hand of himself to instead wrap that arm around evan, hand splayed between his shoulder blades, practically clawing at him the way he holds on. ]
[ it's always gratifying to hear that - especially from the ones who don't like letting what they're feeling go heard. david's not completely in that group, but the way he was trying to muffle himself before contributes to that idea at least a little. so evan keeps up the biting, finding the previous bruises and doubling down on them. no point in ignoring a sign when it's right fucking there.
when david opts to put both hands on evan - and almost violently, too, nails dragging against burned skin, digging in at the back of his skull, making sure evan doesn't back off or change his mind or go slower, as much as the last one might be worth the effort eventually - he realizes the decision, what that might actually mean, and it makes him growl deep in his chest. david'll feel it, both against his throat and in every part of him trying to keep evan close. it does something to him, realizing what david intends here.
he sucks a new bruise in place over david's collarbone, something easier to hide but easier to feel, too, and moves his grip from david's jaw up into his hair. keeps his head back, gives a new prickle of pain with every tug. not hard. but probably more than enough.
no words. no point in words, not anymore. not when it might interrupt what he's hearing coming from david as he buries himself deep into him, just enough pride coasting at the edges of his hunger to want to outlast him. it doesn't stop or slow him - just preoccupies him a little bit. for the moment. ]
[ obviously this isn't something david's used to, entirely overwhelmed by even the bites on his neck, his collarbone, the way evan growls that vibrates against his skin. he shudders, gasps open-mouthed when his head's tipped back, at the pinpricks of pain across his scalp. ]
Oh-- oh fuck. [ sudden, even to himself, voice rough and still carrying that desperate edge as he feverishly informs evan how close he is, even if he can probably tell from the way david grabs at him, the way he clenches around him and arches his back. ]
[ it starts the same as last time, but it's different. longer, at least it feels like it anyway. has david a moaning, trembling wreck as he comes, thighs clamped tight at evan's sides like he's trying to win a grapple. deep, panting breaths as he starts to come down the other side of it. ]
[ it's sharp and sudden, david gripping him tight, just about breaking, or at least close enough to count given the noises he's making. they don't last long but they're enough, and that, combined with the tightness and sheer intensity, send evan over the edge not long after.
he doesn't bite, instead pressing his mouth hard against david's shoulder, but the shudder that runs through him, and the newly-tightened grips, tell the story enough - and so does the shudder, felt as much as the growl was. sometimes even he can't maintain a totally stoic demeanor in the middle of a rough fuck.
he's a little slower to get back to himself, but his fingers move from david's hair to the back of his neck, and the other hand finally lowers his leg back down toward the tabletop. but he doesn't pull away, or out, opting to keep them both where they are for now. no reason to rush. the discomfort will set in eventually. for now, he stays close enough to let the heat not burn, for once.
but eventually he does mutter, against david's skin: ]
[ david slips into quiet, hand resting lax at the back of evan's neck, breathing heavy and just sitting with the aftershocks of such an intense orgasm. it's been a long fucking time since he's been this wiped out after sex, probably near enough a decade before the fog at least, doesn't even have it in him right now to be annoyed at evan for it. ]
[ his free hand he puts down on the bench to lean on, settling back into himself, and when evan speaks it makes him burst into slightly wheezy laughter. ]
[ it was easy enough to tell. not that david had been particularly quiet or inexpressive last time, but there's a pretty big difference between the two. and there's more than a little edge of pride to this - to making one of the most difficult, pain-in-the-ass survivors he has to deal with moan like that - and come untouched.
not that he's about to bring it up. arguably, it's not something to really be proud of, but what the fuck else does he have here? everybody kills them.
evan slowly loosens his grip just enough to pull back - and out. same as last time, the sensation makes him grimace, but he doesn't back off completely just yet. not when he's still got hands on david, tracing the bruises he himself left. they won't last beyond the next trial, but that's not always a problem. ]
[ sensitive as he still is, evan pulling out gets a distinct noise of displeasure out of david. he shudders and swears under his breath, but settles again fairly quickly. ]
[ this is... nice? it's a bit of a fight for david not to just fall asleep like this honestly, the fingers on his skin registering as something soothing even when they pass over a bruise that's a little more sensitive, where his touch makes something sharp hit his senses. ]
[ for his part, david just stays put. brushes his fingers idly up the back of evan's neck while he catches his breath. ]
[ evan takes a little while to follow the bites and bruises before the chill starts to set in even for him. it's just a moment of post-fuck exhaustion where he's not completely furious with everything all the time, so when the world starts to creep back in he backs off, giving david space again.
he reaches down to tug the waders back up and clasp them in place, the one side with a noise of irritation. cleaning off is an option, and he might if he's not pulled to a trial soon enough, but for now he'll wait. david, on the other hand - well, he staggered off into the woods without much of an issue last time.
still, there's a bucket of old water and a stack of rags not too far away. it's meant for cleaning wounds that don't heal fast enough for his liking, mostly. the option's there. ]
[ he just doesn't think he's ever going to be comfortable enough to clean his ass around evan, okay. ]
[ cleaning up at all isn't on his mind just yet anyway. when evan moves away, david leans back on an elbow, drags a hand over his face, through his hair. almost laughs when he looks down at himself — shirt bunched up under his armpits, the weight of his jeans hanging off one leg, the mess on his stomach, or rather most of it unhelpfully pooled at his crotch. he looks a state. ]
Haven't got a towel or anythin', have you?
[ he hasn't noticed the bucket and therefore isn't expecting anything at all, but he'd love to feel at least 10% less gross and sticky before he leaves. ]
[ evan glances at david, but the only change in his expression is a raised eyebrow. usually people are a mess after him. he's a mess, slightly less for the most part.
still. instead of leaving david to his own devices, or maybe just kicking him out - funny as that might be - he heads over to the bucket and pulls out the rag. it's damp, and cold, but it'll do the job. he tosses it over and goes to find his mask, giving david the illusion of a few seconds of privacy while he's in the heart of a serial killer's domain.
some of the territories have running water. it's a luxury evan's not granted. almost unfair, when he thinks about it, but then again, he gets other kinds of leeway. he finds the mask, fits it back on, rolls his shoulders to get a little tension out of them and then picks up the bucket to move it closer to david, so he can drop the rag in it when he's done. ]
[ if david's good at anything, it's compartmentalising. does it mean he has tons of unresolved shit because he just boxed it up and put it away? maybe. but it also means he gets back to baseline pretty fast once a situation's done with. some people might call that "unhealthy" and "slightly concerning", david prefers to think of it as being adaptable. always ready for whatever bullshit gets tossed his way next. ]
[ he takes the rag, it's not far off what he's used to these days anyway (though he is in no way adverse to sneaking into a realm to shower,) and wipes up as best he can. just so he feels a little less gross at least, fuck knows if he'll get a chance to clean up properly before he's sucked into a trial, and then it won't matter anyway. ]
[ once that's sorted he tosses the rag in the bucket, fixes his shirt, and carefully slips off the table to pull up his pants. (ignoring the ache and the way his legs feel just a bit uncertain still.) or rather, he pulls off his boot with an annoyed huff and drops it next to him on the workbench when he can't just shove it through the leg of his pants, then he pulls them up. ]
[ for evan, getting back to baseline is easy enough - he's got a voice in the back of his head all the time, making demands he can't ignore, and there's the entity in there, too. he knows there's only so much time to ... wind down, he supposes might be the right way to phrase it, before he's expected to kill again. which is fine. he's used to it by now.
he half-watches david pull himself back together and smirks, just a little, under the mask. ]
[ he could swear he can hear the smirk and looks up at evan, unamused. gives him the same tired look one might at a friend making an entirely expected and obnoxious joke at their expense. he contemplates telling evan he's a pain in the ass, but the look probably conveys that well enough. plus he's not about to give him that one for free. ]
[ david grabs his boot and pulls it on, gets down on a knee to fix the laces, ignoring the fatigue starting to creep up on him. it can wait until he gets back. ]
... Do you sleep? Like, at all?
[ the question probably seems a little sudden, out of nowhere, but it's just a funny thought that occurs to him, thinking about how nice a nap sounds right about now. do any of the killers sleep? sure nobody really needs to as far as he knows, but it's a luxury the entity hasn't taken yet. and the mental image is kind of funny, killers cosied up in bed under a duvet. ]
[ no response - probably for the best, he figures - but before he can get back to whatever the next problem is to clean up, david asks him a question.
maybe not that strange, considering, but it's a little surprising coming from someone who's been here this long. sleep isn't really a requirement here, and all the survivors know that. but the urge to do so still lingers. exhaustion still exists. sometimes it gets too strong to resist, although sleep is still probably the wrong word. passing out is more the norm. ]
Not really.
[ it's the basic truth, and not much of an answer. for once, he elaborates. ]
No point. Got a lot to do, all the time. But when shit goes to hell, sometimes it helps out.
[ no explanation on what shit going to tell might entail, but it's from his perspective. generally, the entity's involved. ]
[ that makes sense. probably. he thinks evan's way too high strung about defending his territory, but it's not like he doesn't get it. even without the fucking ego, it's his right. all he's got and all he's ever gonna fucking get. doesn't mean david's going to stop thinking he should ease up a bit though, or stop stealing from him. ]
[ david stands once he's done his boot up, gives evan a curious look. ]
[ evan picks up his cleaver, and then david asks a followup question; he pauses and looks at him, back to being the monster that haunts the collapsing mine and abandoned macmillan estate. he considers whether that's a question he wants to answer.
it isn't, really, but survivors have imaginations. the simplest explanation is probably enough to stop this line of questioning in its tracks. ]
When you get everyone out and follow 'em before I find you.
[ david can follow that one to its logical conclusion. entity's gotta get its pound of flesh from somewhere, killers have gotta feed it somehow. it's the kind of thing that everyone knows once they've been here a while, (some killers are pretty forthcoming about it,) but it never occurred to david that it'd take its toll. ]
[ he's curious, it's obvious in the look he gives, it's not like he knows what it's like — he's fucking dead when it takes what it wants from him — but he doesn't think he wants to stoke evan's temper like that right now. ]
Can't picture it. [ he shakes his head, turns to pick up his jacket off the bench he threw it on. ] You sleeping. D'you get all cosied up? Fluffy blanket and a pair of PJs?
[ maybe he's fine with stoking evan's temper a little. ]
[ the followup isn't mockery and therefore not exactly what he expected, but it still makes him grimace. if it wasn't for the residual satisfaction clinging to him, he might have run david out for that. ]
Come around often enough and you might find out.
[ there's a few other rooms off the workshop, ones that really shouldn't be there but the entity saw fit to drop in for him ages ago, that survivors generally don't know about. there's nothing in them to steal, so no reason to try and break in, but if he needs to sleep, that's where he goes.
evan hangs up the cleaver in its place by the door and opens the front of the furnace to stoke the coals. the rush of heat and light casts a fresh illumination in the room, and sends a little cloud of smoke and coal sparks up. most of them die in the air; a few land on him, and make no difference to the burns on him whatsoever. ]
[ david snorts, still picturing evan in a set of comfy pyjamas — little sleep mask and all — and slips into his jacket. ]
Maybe I will.
[ this is so stupid. he zips up his jacket, all the way so it covers his neck, and tucks his chin under the collar for good measure like he would somewhere cold. watches evan at the furnace, the way the sparks die on his skin and he doesn't even flinch. ]
[ it being a mystery seems ridiculous, but some survivors are fascinated by the idea of the killers doing 'normal' things. anything to rationalize that this isn't just another form of hell, maybe.
he can just about see david pulling the jacket on and zipping it up high enough to hide the bites, and smirks a little again. it's not an insult to him. he knows most of them don't want the others knowing exactly what they get up to out here. them having to hide it is another little point of pride he probably shouldn't be taking, but he does. even the complaints are something to get smug about, although as yet david hasn't complained.
considering how much he seems to like getting bitten, he's probably never going to, evan considers. ]
You're gonna be disappointed.
[ he shuts the grate on the furnace and pulls a twisted, broken trap out of a crate nearby. when they get mangled like this, he just melts them down and remakes them. he's not in the mood to go hunt down trespassers right now. a little too satisfied to bother with it. ]
[ david shrugs a shoulder. it's not a big deal, not really — so some guy sleeps, big whoop — but there's just something fascinating about it. like the time someone told him moose get hunted by killer whales and david couldn't shake the idea it was wrong somehow until he saw a picture of them swimming. ]
[ someone explaining how fucking massive moose are helped too. normal animals aren't gonna deal with that, are they? ]
[ plus there's the gentle implication of getting to sleep in a bed, and christ david can't even remember what that's like. sleeping bag if he's lucky. usually just finds a soft patch of dirt under a tree like a fucking animal. though when ripley's in a trial, sometimes her cat'll sleep on him and that's nice actually. ]
Be seein' you.
[ he picks up his bag and slings it over his shoulder. time to start the fucking arduous task of getting out of this fucking place. ]
[ evan grunts, an acknowledgement that david's be seeing you could mean almost anything: in the next trial, in the next fistfight that leads to a brutal death, or in the next moment they decide they need a distraction. maybe all three.
he works at the forge until he hears david's footsteps disappear into the mine, and until the sixth sense that tells him when his traps are being tampered with stops its rigid focus on every movement out in the darkness. he waits, in fact, until he's dead certain he's alone, and only then does he roll his shoulders in exhaustion, lean back against one of the center workbenches and wonder, not for the first time, if fucking survivors is going to backfire on him.
well. doesn't matter right now. david's already put an end to him once. might be enough to satisfy the bloodlust. if anything, it's the ones who keep the rage pent up that are going to end up being the problem, he's pretty sure.
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hardlydead) wrote2021-11-01 05:44 am
no subject
the hand on david's chest moves up to his jaw and makes an effort to break the biting kiss by tilting his head back to bare his throat. evan doesn't pull away, but he moves his mouth down to bite at his throat again instead, leaving bruises in new places, sometimes over the other ones, like the spark of pain might only help make this better.
there's only so quick even he's interested in going, but harder has less of an issue, and so as the noises he can hear get more breathless and desperate he leans into that. shifts their angle minutely if it gets a better reaction, holds steady when it doesn't. his hold on david's knee loosens a little, but he keeps it pushed where it is as he finds a fresh grip with a fresh spot to bruise in turn. not that bruises last, but the idea of them is there, and sometimes the phantom memory, long after everything else has faded. ]
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[ with nowhere to muffle his noises anymore, david is, of course, louder too. especially when evan starts fucking him harder. practically cries out at first like it's a surprise, settles into shaky moans that feel like they rattle around in his chest before they make it out of his mouth, breathless and gasping. ]
[ david lowers his free hand into his lap, wraps it around his cock, but he thinks-- he thinks he could come like this, if he lets it happen. the realisation makes a familiar swell of annoyance bloom, but more importantly it stokes something hot in his gut that makes him change tack, takes his hand of himself to instead wrap that arm around evan, hand splayed between his shoulder blades, practically clawing at him the way he holds on. ]
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when david opts to put both hands on evan - and almost violently, too, nails dragging against burned skin, digging in at the back of his skull, making sure evan doesn't back off or change his mind or go slower, as much as the last one might be worth the effort eventually - he realizes the decision, what that might actually mean, and it makes him growl deep in his chest. david'll feel it, both against his throat and in every part of him trying to keep evan close. it does something to him, realizing what david intends here.
he sucks a new bruise in place over david's collarbone, something easier to hide but easier to feel, too, and moves his grip from david's jaw up into his hair. keeps his head back, gives a new prickle of pain with every tug. not hard. but probably more than enough.
no words. no point in words, not anymore. not when it might interrupt what he's hearing coming from david as he buries himself deep into him, just enough pride coasting at the edges of his hunger to want to outlast him. it doesn't stop or slow him - just preoccupies him a little bit. for the moment. ]
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Oh-- oh fuck. [ sudden, even to himself, voice rough and still carrying that desperate edge as he feverishly informs evan how close he is, even if he can probably tell from the way david grabs at him, the way he clenches around him and arches his back. ]
[ it starts the same as last time, but it's different. longer, at least it feels like it anyway. has david a moaning, trembling wreck as he comes, thighs clamped tight at evan's sides like he's trying to win a grapple. deep, panting breaths as he starts to come down the other side of it. ]
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he doesn't bite, instead pressing his mouth hard against david's shoulder, but the shudder that runs through him, and the newly-tightened grips, tell the story enough - and so does the shudder, felt as much as the growl was. sometimes even he can't maintain a totally stoic demeanor in the middle of a rough fuck.
he's a little slower to get back to himself, but his fingers move from david's hair to the back of his neck, and the other hand finally lowers his leg back down toward the tabletop. but he doesn't pull away, or out, opting to keep them both where they are for now. no reason to rush. the discomfort will set in eventually. for now, he stays close enough to let the heat not burn, for once.
but eventually he does mutter, against david's skin: ]
Better'n spit?
[ as if he'd ever let something go. ]
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[ his free hand he puts down on the bench to lean on, settling back into himself, and when evan speaks it makes him burst into slightly wheezy laughter. ]
You couldn't tell?
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[ it was easy enough to tell. not that david had been particularly quiet or inexpressive last time, but there's a pretty big difference between the two. and there's more than a little edge of pride to this - to making one of the most difficult, pain-in-the-ass survivors he has to deal with moan like that - and come untouched.
not that he's about to bring it up. arguably, it's not something to really be proud of, but what the fuck else does he have here? everybody kills them.
evan slowly loosens his grip just enough to pull back - and out. same as last time, the sensation makes him grimace, but he doesn't back off completely just yet. not when he's still got hands on david, tracing the bruises he himself left. they won't last beyond the next trial, but that's not always a problem. ]
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[ this is... nice? it's a bit of a fight for david not to just fall asleep like this honestly, the fingers on his skin registering as something soothing even when they pass over a bruise that's a little more sensitive, where his touch makes something sharp hit his senses. ]
[ for his part, david just stays put. brushes his fingers idly up the back of evan's neck while he catches his breath. ]
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he reaches down to tug the waders back up and clasp them in place, the one side with a noise of irritation. cleaning off is an option, and he might if he's not pulled to a trial soon enough, but for now he'll wait. david, on the other hand - well, he staggered off into the woods without much of an issue last time.
still, there's a bucket of old water and a stack of rags not too far away. it's meant for cleaning wounds that don't heal fast enough for his liking, mostly. the option's there. ]
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[ cleaning up at all isn't on his mind just yet anyway. when evan moves away, david leans back on an elbow, drags a hand over his face, through his hair. almost laughs when he looks down at himself — shirt bunched up under his armpits, the weight of his jeans hanging off one leg, the mess on his stomach, or rather most of it unhelpfully pooled at his crotch. he looks a state. ]
Haven't got a towel or anythin', have you?
[ he hasn't noticed the bucket and therefore isn't expecting anything at all, but he'd love to feel at least 10% less gross and sticky before he leaves. ]
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still. instead of leaving david to his own devices, or maybe just kicking him out - funny as that might be - he heads over to the bucket and pulls out the rag. it's damp, and cold, but it'll do the job. he tosses it over and goes to find his mask, giving david the illusion of a few seconds of privacy while he's in the heart of a serial killer's domain.
some of the territories have running water. it's a luxury evan's not granted. almost unfair, when he thinks about it, but then again, he gets other kinds of leeway. he finds the mask, fits it back on, rolls his shoulders to get a little tension out of them and then picks up the bucket to move it closer to david, so he can drop the rag in it when he's done. ]
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[ he takes the rag, it's not far off what he's used to these days anyway (though he is in no way adverse to sneaking into a realm to shower,) and wipes up as best he can. just so he feels a little less gross at least, fuck knows if he'll get a chance to clean up properly before he's sucked into a trial, and then it won't matter anyway. ]
[ once that's sorted he tosses the rag in the bucket, fixes his shirt, and carefully slips off the table to pull up his pants. (ignoring the ache and the way his legs feel just a bit uncertain still.) or rather, he pulls off his boot with an annoyed huff and drops it next to him on the workbench when he can't just shove it through the leg of his pants, then he pulls them up. ]
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he half-watches david pull himself back together and smirks, just a little, under the mask. ]
Woulda been easier my way.
[ logistics during aside. ]
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[ david grabs his boot and pulls it on, gets down on a knee to fix the laces, ignoring the fatigue starting to creep up on him. it can wait until he gets back. ]
... Do you sleep? Like, at all?
[ the question probably seems a little sudden, out of nowhere, but it's just a funny thought that occurs to him, thinking about how nice a nap sounds right about now. do any of the killers sleep? sure nobody really needs to as far as he knows, but it's a luxury the entity hasn't taken yet. and the mental image is kind of funny, killers cosied up in bed under a duvet. ]
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maybe not that strange, considering, but it's a little surprising coming from someone who's been here this long. sleep isn't really a requirement here, and all the survivors know that. but the urge to do so still lingers. exhaustion still exists. sometimes it gets too strong to resist, although sleep is still probably the wrong word. passing out is more the norm. ]
Not really.
[ it's the basic truth, and not much of an answer. for once, he elaborates. ]
No point. Got a lot to do, all the time. But when shit goes to hell, sometimes it helps out.
[ no explanation on what shit going to tell might entail, but it's from his perspective. generally, the entity's involved. ]
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[ david stands once he's done his boot up, gives evan a curious look. ]
When shit goes to hell?
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it isn't, really, but survivors have imaginations. the simplest explanation is probably enough to stop this line of questioning in its tracks. ]
When you get everyone out and follow 'em before I find you.
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[ he's curious, it's obvious in the look he gives, it's not like he knows what it's like — he's fucking dead when it takes what it wants from him — but he doesn't think he wants to stoke evan's temper like that right now. ]
Can't picture it. [ he shakes his head, turns to pick up his jacket off the bench he threw it on. ] You sleeping. D'you get all cosied up? Fluffy blanket and a pair of PJs?
[ maybe he's fine with stoking evan's temper a little. ]
no subject
Come around often enough and you might find out.
[ there's a few other rooms off the workshop, ones that really shouldn't be there but the entity saw fit to drop in for him ages ago, that survivors generally don't know about. there's nothing in them to steal, so no reason to try and break in, but if he needs to sleep, that's where he goes.
evan hangs up the cleaver in its place by the door and opens the front of the furnace to stoke the coals. the rush of heat and light casts a fresh illumination in the room, and sends a little cloud of smoke and coal sparks up. most of them die in the air; a few land on him, and make no difference to the burns on him whatsoever. ]
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Maybe I will.
[ this is so stupid. he zips up his jacket, all the way so it covers his neck, and tucks his chin under the collar for good measure like he would somewhere cold. watches evan at the furnace, the way the sparks die on his skin and he doesn't even flinch. ]
Solve the mystery and all.
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he can just about see david pulling the jacket on and zipping it up high enough to hide the bites, and smirks a little again. it's not an insult to him. he knows most of them don't want the others knowing exactly what they get up to out here. them having to hide it is another little point of pride he probably shouldn't be taking, but he does. even the complaints are something to get smug about, although as yet david hasn't complained.
considering how much he seems to like getting bitten, he's probably never going to, evan considers. ]
You're gonna be disappointed.
[ he shuts the grate on the furnace and pulls a twisted, broken trap out of a crate nearby. when they get mangled like this, he just melts them down and remakes them. he's not in the mood to go hunt down trespassers right now. a little too satisfied to bother with it. ]
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[ david shrugs a shoulder. it's not a big deal, not really — so some guy sleeps, big whoop — but there's just something fascinating about it. like the time someone told him moose get hunted by killer whales and david couldn't shake the idea it was wrong somehow until he saw a picture of them swimming. ]
[ someone explaining how fucking massive moose are helped too. normal animals aren't gonna deal with that, are they? ]
[ plus there's the gentle implication of getting to sleep in a bed, and christ david can't even remember what that's like. sleeping bag if he's lucky. usually just finds a soft patch of dirt under a tree like a fucking animal. though when ripley's in a trial, sometimes her cat'll sleep on him and that's nice actually. ]
Be seein' you.
[ he picks up his bag and slings it over his shoulder. time to start the fucking arduous task of getting out of this fucking place. ]
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he works at the forge until he hears david's footsteps disappear into the mine, and until the sixth sense that tells him when his traps are being tampered with stops its rigid focus on every movement out in the darkness. he waits, in fact, until he's dead certain he's alone, and only then does he roll his shoulders in exhaustion, lean back against one of the center workbenches and wonder, not for the first time, if fucking survivors is going to backfire on him.
well. doesn't matter right now. david's already put an end to him once. might be enough to satisfy the bloodlust. if anything, it's the ones who keep the rage pent up that are going to end up being the problem, he's pretty sure.
after a while, he gets back to his work. ]