Thirty One Truffula Trees

[whichwayyoulean]

[The Once-ler hasn't heard from his mother in a while. This is nothing new, really. She only ever comes to him if she wanted something, it's always been that way, and he doubts she'd ever change, magical castle notwithstanding. But he hasn't heard from her since that dinosaur mess, and eventually, his love for her overwhelms his common sense and desire not to get his heart kicked in, as it always inevitably does. He heads off to her room, finding the nameplate gone.

Well. That was that. She'd left him. Again. Quietly this time, with no harsh words to bite into his memory as she drives away into the smog. Just a door without a name on it. He doubts he'll ever see her again, and he feels guilty for finding some relief in that thought. He exhales, opening his journal. He doesn't even know what to say at first, he doesn't even know if she even HAD any friends here]

For anyone who cares, my mom. [Pause] Flora her name's Flora. Look, I don't know if anyone knew her or not- but she's gone. Back home. So there you go.

[He'll just go try to find somewhere to brood where his friends won't find him now]

Comments

Once-ler

[atrophied]

You know where my room is. [ And he flips the journal shut. ]

House

[whichwayyoulean]

Yeah. Okay.

[And eventually, he'll just show up and let himself in. Sup not!dad, please say you have alcohol here]

[atrophied]

Catch.

[ there's a beer flying to you. what did you expect really. ]

[whichwayyoulean]

[He does. House you are the best fake dad in the world. Let no one ever doubt your parenting skills. He'll open it and sit on the couch, staring at it for a moment before drinking]

Thanks.

[atrophied]

[ he makes a sound of acknowledgement and returns to the couch. he picks up the electric guitar leaning against and sets it on his lap. he finishes tuning it by ear and starts playing "Kashmir."

what is talking. ]

[whichwayyoulean]

[He'll listen, but he sure doesn't feel like talking. If he did, he probably wouldn't have opted to come here. He'll just stay in this hidey hole with beer and the chance to collect his thoughts]

[atrophied]

[he transitions effortlessly into a second song. mid-song, he looks up. ]

You hungry? There's some leftover pizza in the mini-fridge you can reheat.

[whichwayyoulean]

[The Once-ler doesn't reply right away, sitting back, contemplating the wall]

Nah, I'm good. Thanks for the offer.

[atrophied]

I'm hungry. Go heat one up.

[whichwayyoulean]

[He casts House a withering look, before sighing and getting up, heading off to the kitchen]

Y'know, there are ghosts to specifically do these kinds of things for you.

[atrophied]

Yes. But I have a Once-ler. [ c: ]

[whichwayyoulean]

That's not even remotely the same thing. [Grumble grumble. But he's heating u the pizza anyway]

[atrophied]

Same end result.

[ and the new song is chosen very consciously ]

[whichwayyoulean]

[He knows enough of Earth music to catch the reference, eventually reappearing with aforementioned pizza]

Ha. Ha. You're hilarious.

[atrophied]

And a gifted musician too.

[ he sets the guitar aside to take the pizza. house takes a bite, and puts the plate down in his lap. ]

It's cold. You had one job.

[ no, it's not actually cold. he's just an ass. ]

[whichwayyoulean]

[The Once-ler rolls his eyes, sitting down and taking a sip of his beer]

Well, you're just going to have to enjoy the lukewarm disappointment.

[atrophied]

Is that any sort of tone to take?

[whichwayyoulean]

Sorry.

[In a brighter, more cheerful tone:]

Well, you're just going to have to enjoy the lukewarm disappointment~

[atrophied]

[ you ass. house is so proud. ]

Better. Thank you.

[whichwayyoulean]

[Yay he made a parental being proud]

You're welcome!

[atrophied]

[ as he digs in: ]

You play anything besides guitar?

[whichwayyoulean]

Nah, just guitar. We couldn't really afford much when I was a kid, the guitar was already in the family. And after my business took off, I had barely any time to play my guitar, let alone learn a new instrument.

[atrophied]

Always a warning sign when you lose touch with all the little pleasures in life.

[whichwayyoulean]

Yeah, well, I didn't realise that until it was too late. [He'll give a soft shrug] But I have time to play it now, so I guess I should be grateful for that.

[atrophied]

[ he leans back. ]

Gimme a song. Any song.