evan-macmillan-trapper

[evan-macmillan-trapper]

Holds this shadow kid as it was an addon given to him from an Entity

“.. Guess this can work..”

Entity: ....

Maxwell: Simon look, the Entity is thinking of new ways to make old killers abilites better.

Simon: oh..

Entity: *Look at the two for a second before snapping their finger* "Aha! New idea!"

(Minutes Later in a trial)

Entity: "OK Simon now go Hug others."

Simon: ... Hmm New outfit.

[evan-macmillan-trapper]

Evan heard the rushing of moving grass. The sounds of heavy breathing and the sloshing of footsteps on wet mud coming closer. Evan had no true reason to hunt or kill outside of trials. While in his earlier days of being one of the three killers in the realms, Evan relished the continuation of the hunt outside the known space of his land. To not follow any set rules and to do as he pleases with whoever he captured. Years pass and Evan’s enjoyment of this inhumane pastime has diminished quite a bit. Now a days he hardly enjoys trials as much as he did before. What good is it to kill the same few people over and over and over and over again, day after day.. it was draining.

When Dwight has entered one of Evan’s workshop shacks tucked away in his realm, He only gave a side glance to the survivor’s bargain. He stood in silence as he turns his head back to look at his worktable and his repair of his now broken bear trap. With the sound of something approaching, Evan let a rumble escape his lips and slowly walks up to Dwight. His foot steps making a creak under each floorboard he stepped on until he was looming over the smaller man.

Before a word could be spoken by him, Evan picked up Dwight by the back of his shirt. The Bone masked Killer walks Dwight over to a locker, opens the door and half tosses him inside. Evan gives him one last look before shutting the door, Dwight can hear something metal being picked up and the door shaking a little.. Seems Evan did something to the door as now it wouldn’t budge.

@nervousleaderr​

Closed

@evan-macmillan-trapper

Dwight’s lungs burned in his chest, as he ran through the grass, almost hitting the spare bear traps lying around. Outside of trials were the only time that Dwight had any peace, but luck was not on his side today; as another killer decided to pay Dwight a visit during one of his walks in the woods. He always tried testing the limits of the surrounding areas, trying to find a way out. Usually he’d just end up in a killer’s realm, and get chased off by whoever was residing there. Whenever there weren’t any trials, Dwight noticed most of the killers tended to rest in their own realm.

So when Dwight founded himself in the Macmillan Estate, he made a beeline for one of the many houses that resided in the realm. What he didn’t expect, was to run into the Trapper himself. Any other day, he’d be scared, but he’d rather get the Trapper’s cleaver than be caught by the Cultist. Thinking fast on his feet, Dwight came up with an idea. “Let me hide here, I’m getting chased by a creep!” He begged. “If you let me hide here, I’ll give you a freebie next trial, you can just put me straight on the hook!”

[evan-macmillan-trapper]

I’d Insidious camp an obvious bear trap, Don’t test me kid. 

[evan-macmillan-trapper]

"Look, don't you think your traps are a little out of date? Moreover you put them into obvious places so It was easy for me to deactivate them all." Ace said with a big grin on his face.

@nightgambler

"Out of date huh? Saying they're becoming predictable?"

Evan seems to grin underneath that mask of his.

"That's the thing about my traps, sure they're able to be disarmed, but I choose where they go and how they're set up. They're only as predictable as I make them. Just because you know I have them, doesn't mean you'll always know where. Every patch of grass, every vault location, every twist and turn there could be something there. Take your time, disarm them, don't rush it.. But don't forget, Every second you waste is a second I have to get the upper hand.

Evan raises his arms and shrugs as Ace sits in the doorway of the trial. The rusted metal plunged into his shoulders shifting around as he moves.

"Not a fool proof tactic, but it's a game I make, and you play. Somedays I don't feel like trying anything new.. Somedays I'd rather shove my cleaver into your throat than put you on some fucking rusted hooks..."

"Enjoy this win, Mr. Visconti, There's always next time."

@nightgambler

[evan-macmillan-trapper]

How do you feel about art?

"I wasn't the one to draw when I was younger, Father never let me have much free time to discover new passions. Sometimes I feel it was intentional to keep me from moving away from the family business."

Evan lets out a heavy grumble at the mentioning of his past.

"However, I find some painting to speak of stories. Speak of emotions, ideas, conflict and people. I find it a window into greater ways than just speaking and actions. A way to preserve what we think and do..."

" ... I need to get back to work.. "

[evan-macmillan-trapper]

do you like anything else besides traps thats all you talk about

“It’s how I’m still alive. Without these traps I would’ve been replaced long ago. I don’t know what the Entity does with rejects but I don’t imagine they just put us back where we belong..”

”As for things I enjoy.. *Evan crosses his soot covered arms and legs a sigh flow from his mask. He looks up towards the fog covered sky before giving an answer.*

”Metalwork of course.. I can do a lot with the tools that were left. I can make many things with the metal I find and scavenge.”

”I also enjoy hunting.. not that kind of hunting. Regular hunting, with deer, bears, elk, moose.. Can’t do it anymore since there’s no animals to hunt and I don’t want to disrupt the crows.”

”Hmm.. I’m sure there’s more, I just can’t think of anything right now.”

[evan-macmillan-trapper]

“Hmmm.. I need to plan better. Traps set in areas that I can use when survivors are about to break free. Break from my grasp right back into my clutches.”

”Planning is how you stay ahead. Every survivors knows my traps and spots.. so I’ll make new tricks.”

[evan-macmillan-trapper]

*With Kazan’s question in Evan’s mind, he stands there for a few moments to truly think back on the trial. Try and dull the current pain he’s feeling from his mind and give a proper answer.. speaking of the current pain..*

*Evan reaches over his shoulder and grabs the shard of glass, ripping it out of his back with nothing but a ”huff” and a low grumble of relief. Dropping the shard into the ground, Evan finally gives his co worker an answer.*

“Two were experienced and slipped from my traps.. Two were not. An even trial.. but it’s not good enough.”

”.. For them its all or nothing..”

*Evan picks up his last trap as Kazan has entered his realm. Evan has been used it for a trial and has just finished cleaning up. Evan looks at Kazan with a tired but irritated aura to him. A glass shard can be seen in his shoulder.. Seems this trial was not in his favor. He seems to not be in a hostile mood though.*

"Rough match, Macmillian?"

Kazan stays a respectable distance away from the veteran of the Fog since he was on Evan's land.

[evan-macmillan-trapper]

What do you do for a living?

"I break ankles.. "

"And Skulls..."

And Necks.."

"I'm just a very poor chiropractor"

*Evan huffs at his own poor taste joke. His cleaver hanging off his belt line and he tinkers with his trap.*

[evan-macmillan-trapper]

“I’m not dead.. I just enjoy spending my free time alone..”

“But sure... send an ask if you enjoy broken ankles..” 

[evan-macmillan-trapper]

"h-Hey-I uh heard that you are a bit of an artist! Do you have any works you don't mind sharing?" Jeff asks nervously from a distance. @survivaltist

*Evan sat there as Jeff refused to get anywhere closer to him. This gave Evan a devilish idea as he smirks from behind his bone Mask* "Yea.. I do have some to show you.. You'll have to get closer to see it though. Oh- ..and Mind the tall grass." @survivaltist

[evan-macmillan-trapper]

What do you mean I’m the next survivor?!

Ive done this job for longer than anyone else and now you’re sacking me with those I hunted?!

On second thought good! Give me a reason to sock Freddy a few times unlike before.

I don’t think the others will even be able to put me on a hook.. Most of them can’t even get me off the ground-

Nemesis put me the fuck down! I don’t need a reminder from you!

[evan-macmillan-trapper]

"my my, a pretty face for a quite..."strong" personality...well, I truly do hope you feel welcome to our "murderous" group..I'm Sally and I will be your nurse everytime you get wounds by the survivors, any questions you can ask me young man."

"I'm sure we'll get along great though, thank you 누나!" @the-nurse-smithson

[evan-macmillan-trapper]

Nurse: Did you just get back from Ormond? 

Trapper: Yea.. How could you Tell?

[evan-macmillan-trapper]

Susie: ..Is Amanda a Furry?..

Frank: ...I... I dont know...

[evan-macmillan-trapper]

The sun set among the trees naturally clustered along the narrow path formed in the forest by the animals that passed by daily, in search of food, or even towards their own burrows. It was a beautiful autumn afternoon, and although the raindrops that danced incessantly over the canopy of pines made the trail muddy, there was nothing more relaxing than feeling them plummet from the sky and hit your face, soft and steady. You stop for a moment, admiring the quiet calm around you, when it's suddenly interrupted by a sob. Opening your eyes, you look from side to side, trying to figure out where the source of that noise would have come from when... SOB! There was the noise again. Was anyone nearby crying? Just in case, you decide to wrap your cleaver in your hand and carefully approach the source of the sound.

ㅤ슪 ⨾ The interaction was too long and ended up not fitting the question... If possible, check your inbox, there will be a message from me (@sheisdreamy) with the rest of the text.

(The Whole ask) The sun set among the trees naturally clustered along the narrow path formed in the forest by the animals that passed by daily, in search of food, or even towards their own burrows. It was a beautiful autumn afternoon, and although the raindrops that danced incessantly over the canopy of pines made the trail muddy, there was nothing more relaxing than feeling them plummet from the sky and hit your face, soft and steady. You stop for a moment, admiring the quiet calm around you, when it's suddenly interrupted by a sob. Opening your eyes, you look from side to side, trying to figure out where the source of that noise would have come from when... SOB! There was the noise again. Was anyone nearby crying? Just in case, you decide to wrap your cleaver in your hand and carefully approach the source of the sound. If you pay attention, you might even find clues to what's waiting in front of you. Footprints that came and went, broken branches, and a scrap of fabric hanging between the branches of a thorny bush, suggesting that someone had passed this way repeatedly, in a hurry enough not to worry about leaving easily traceable tracks behind. "What the hell?" you think, before you hear "SOB, SOB" again, this time to your right. Keeping your breathing quiet, you decide to slowly approach, intending to spy on whoever was there, pushing a few branches out of your way in the process, just to see... A teenage girl. Yes, a teenager, who at first seemed to be wearing frilly outfits much like those beautiful damsels in distress characteristic of Western movies. At first, that thought reminds you of Kate, the sweet singer who would have appeared a few months ago at the campfire, with her guitar and spurs. This girl in question hardly resembled her in appearance, to tell the truth. Was she wearing a white blouse with puffy sleeves, made of what appeared to be a soft, fine fabric, perhaps linen? She wears a brown plaid skirt long enough to cover her bare ankles, with no socks or shoes, which by the way would be carelessly tossed beside her. They were a pair of small-heeled brown boots, a little worn and with the leather peeled off, but still in very good condition. Below her neck, a black ribbon is tied in a delicate bow. Over her dark brown hair, tied in a low ponytail, rests a brown beret, slightly askew and leaning over her pretty face, with a few strands of hair that would have fallen out of her hairstyle. Hearing footsteps coming toward her, the girl lifts her head, giving the killer a glimpse of her face; she had full, slightly reddened cheeks, chapped but full lips, a smooth milky skin, like fresh milk milked from the breast of a Dutch cow, but still stained with freckles and moles that covered her cheeks and nose, the one that stood out being a large brown spot on the right side of the chin. She had big bright eyes whose irises were as blue as the sky on a sunny summer day, and long dark lashes curled slightly upward; moist so that they looked like tears, which she quickly wiped away, using the backs of her gloves, which had once looked white, and were now only stained with the dark, porous earth and dull red of what appeared to be dried blood of no more than three days ago. She holds a stick with what appears to be considerable strength above her lap, although you could clearly see how much her hands were shaking as she did so, this being a possible result of her soaked clothes due to the refreshing raindrops that they crept persistently through the leaves and branches of the tree under which she was sitting. She lifts her chin and her eyes find the plastic mask worn by the killer. She gives a small smile, apparently tired, before looking away to her own feet, full of calluses and bruises, gently curling her toes, intending to stretch them. "Nice mask" she says after a minute of silence, lifting her head again to meet the bigger one's face. "I can't remember anyone I know wearing this before... I guess that means I'm not home anymore, isn't it?"

A stubborn tear insists on forming at the corner of her eyes and, before she has a chance to wipe it away, it travels down in a curved, fuzzy line to her chin, lingering there for a moment, before falling from her face to her lap, in her skirt, where her hands would now be resting, beside her gloves and stick. "Where am I anyway?" she asks, before the other has any chance to answer the previous question. "...Everything looks so different." She lifts her hands, using her fingers to cover her own face as she starts to sob. "I'm lost, aren't I?"

(End of the ask) (Evan's response)

"Lost?" Evan thought to himself. As anyone in a place like this would know where they were. Evan was even certain he was alive anymore and this was just his own personal Hell.

Evan felt nothing for finding another supposed survivor in the fog again. Sometimes these survivors have a past dealing with Killer and sometimes they just got a big case of bad luck. After decades of being used as a tool for some dark being that Lodged these hooks and metal pieces into his body, Evan feels nothing hearing the sobs of this crying one. As far as he would know, they could just be an illusion that the Entity wishes to test Evan on. See if Evan still has a soft spot still left that the Entity needs to drive another hook in. Regardless, if this was a trick or genuine, Evan has no answers for the girl's questions. He does have a way to solve such an issue of where she can go.. It doesn't matter what he uses.. it doesn't matter if its slow or quick.. it doesn't matter who it is.. If she's a survivor, then doing what he was taken to do should send her where she can meet others like her.

Evan doesn't think of this as something he enjoys. He sees it as like putting down a hurt deer. Something that's better for them both. One clean swing and she would be in a better place..

With the rising of his hand, does he wield his cleaver into the air. The green of the plants to meet with the sudden red was not unnatural in such a place. The deed was to be done as Evan hoped at the bottom of his rusted and metal driven heart that she would find other who can help her. She had many questions but Evan had no answers to give but one. To show her what to fear.. and what to stay away from.. He hoped she would learn this had she been returned to a warm campfire.

Evan knew such an act was to keep his icy heart permafrosted, but perhaps his kindness was shown in his efficient hand to promise her a swift end.

Evan was not a man anymore.. He was a tool. A tool that does what it was made to do. Whether he thinks that he helps or harms.. or both.. is not what he was made for. The wielder was unkind in using him. Evan could only hope what he does can help.. even if its only one person.. just one time..

[evan-macmillan-trapper]

“As Susie returns to the Lodge, she wanders around outside for a bit. Suddenly she feels a large, heavy hand clasp her shoulder and pull her back to a halt. “

“Without saying a word, Trapper steps in front of her and kneels down. Barely recognizable with light patches of snow over it was a bear trap, armed and waiting to be stepped on. Like it was nothing, he disarms the trap and picks it off the ground. “Last one” he mutters in a low gruff voice as if he was talking to himself. He gets off the snowy ground and walks off without uttering another word.“

The interaction was sudden, and spooked the girl a tad, theres always something 1 step ahead of you in this realm, all she could do was watch as the heavier set man trodded forward in the distance, she didnt know whether to run after, or just let it be. “Fuck... My lower calve could have just been like ground beef...” Susie put a hand on her chest, feeling the gentle rushing heartbeat. She knew that man, Evan Macmillan, shes been around his grounds, his mines, but the actual person, well. He was on their turf now it seemed...

//Thank you for this lovely interaction, Evan.//

xoxo