jigoku_logs | switchblade smiles

[ WHO ]: The Once-ler, Garry, and some ghosts.
[ WHERE ]: The ~~grocery store~~ GOROGCEYR SOTRE
[ WHEN ]: The night of the Once-ler's birthday!
[ OPEN/CLOSED? ]: Closed!
[ RATING ]: PG-15
[ WARNINGS ]: There will be some gore and body horror.
[ NOTES ]: Sorry this log is so late, there were some things I needed to research first!

[He'd just been out for his ingredients with Saki, but they'd gone on without Garry and Garry apparently wanted Once-ler to head to the store with him. Well, far be it for him to deny a present on his birthday; he'd agreed to head out again. Aside from what he'd come to think of as 'usual activity', nothing too bad had happened the first time, so he figured it'd be a quiet night.

The automatic doors swept open with a pleasant 'ting as they went in. Once-ler was pleased to see the lights were all still on, and that all the fresh produce that was lined up looked good even at this time. That didn't mean it still would be when they left the store, but that was always a chance, wasn't it?

It was less of a chance with items that weren't food. Like most grocery stores he knew, they also had toiletries, some first aid supplies, a few household cleaners, one or two films or movies. Once-ler sneaked a glance at one of them, expecting them to be all horror movies. To his surprise, a few looked like romcoms.]

You could almost pretend you weren't in a haunted town in here, huh? [He smiles, looking around at the store.] What're we getting here?

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[ Garry falls to his knees - his entire body is shaking, from shock, and fear - this was worse than the gallery.

it was so much worse.

he turns quickly, crawling his way closer to Once-ler and carefully moving his hands from his face enough to see the damage done. a Glasgow smile. he needed to sew it. ice. thread. ]

I'll be right back- I- I need thread, ice. Stay here, don't scream- I know- it's h-hard- [ tears well up in his eyes, seeing his friend like this. something twists inside of him and he feels so responsible for all of this. ]

Don't speak- I'll be right back- I promise. I promise I'll help.

[ he dashes off, grip deathly on his fire poker, running off to grab the bag of ice, first. he nearly falls as he tries to turn a corner, banging his shoulder into a wrack and wincing in pain as he does. he's already panting from adrenaline and exertion as he grabs two smaller bags of ice. running back he crouches down by his friend, offering one of the bags. ]

It'll sting- but I need to numb it... or stitching you up- will hurt even more.

[ what he'd give to be a doctor right now. a doctor and not an artist- a useless useless artist- ]

[The thought of being tended to by items from a grocery store is a dulled horror in his mind, swallowed up by the knowledge that his face is split at the mouth and he needs to numb it, numb the pain. There's a lot of stupid thoughts running through his head now - how is he going to be in business now? Businessman with a slit-face? Haha. Ha. Hahahahaha.

Oh god he feels faint... he grabs for the ice and presses it against his cheek.]

...good.

[ his voice sounds weary as he says it, and he doesn't look too relieved about it. ]

Hold it there - over both, if you can. I'll be right back. I need to get thread and- needles.

[ he's up again - he has some thread in his pockets, he knows, but if he can find something stronger, maybe even thicker... it'd be better than his own sewing thread. it wasn't made for this. ice and thin thread... it wasn't made for sewing up your friends face.

can he even do this? what if he makes things worse for him?

but he swallows that down - because who else would care for him?

he's not about to tell his friend to die, just to fix his face. he could never do that.

soon he finds some thread - white. wait- to sterilize, sterilize... he needed alcohol. he runs a section over to try and find some - rubbing alcohol. there. he grabs two bottles. one for him one for... one for Once'. plastic gloves.

he runs back to him now. ]

[It doesn't stop hurting. In a strangely detached way, that's what he's amazed at.

And then he starts laughing, great sobbing laughs that make it hurt even more. Shock's setting in.]

[ he hears the laugh- and it makes him rush back to his side again. he brushes Once-ler's hair from his eyes, gently shushing him. ]

Shh, shh... it might get... it might get bigger if you don't stop moving. you need to calm down, alright?

I'll fix it, I...

[ this is why he could never have been a doctor. he isn't built for it. he feels too much. but he had to try today he had to try- no, he couldn't try.

he had to be a doctor, today. ]

[He's still chuckling even though he nods his head, unable to stop the reaction. He's almost in tears from the laughter - not from the pain, from the laughter. It's so stupid, and it hurts.

It's the pain that eventually cuts the laughter out. He mops at his eyes, mops at the pinked blood as it mixed with the melting ice from his face.]

[ quietly, Garry brushes his friends tears away as well, before turning to start to prep everything for... for the surgery. he pours some peroxide on his hands before he starts to thread the needle with white thread. it takes a few tries, with the tears pricking his eyes, but he gets it done, quickly, and turns back to his friend as he sterilizes the needle next. ]

It...it'll hurt. I'm so sorry- but I need to.

[He doesn't nod, he just squeezes his eyes shut, disbelieving that this is happening to him. There's not really much else he can do; Garry pouring the peroxide on the rubber gloves, onto the needle, sterilizing the thread... He tries to ignore it all.]

[ he sets to work slowly and with unsure hands - its only when that needle actually pierces his cold skin, that he realizes that he needs to be as careful as possible. he's only got this one bit of thread, and every stitch counts - the deadline is tomorrow, and the outfit has to be perfect...

and for Once-ler, how sure his stitches are will prepare him for an outfit he'll never be able to remove. it had to be perfect.

he sets to work. ]

[His mind just... blanks. He doesn't want to focus on this, doesn't want to be here. He's aware of the pain the same way he's aware of the moon - it's there, but it's distant, and it doesn't have much of an impact on him. Not right now. He retreats away from what's happening, numbed.]

switchblade smiles

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