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

[atrophied]

The guitar was something I did to kill boredom. I had a lot of free time.

[whichwayyoulean]

Even with all the training you had to go through to be a doctor? I'm surprised you had any free time at all.

[atrophied]

I didn't decide to be a doctor until I was sixteen. I'd been playing guitar a few years by then.

And I had plenty of free time. I slept through most of my classes.

[whichwayyoulean]

I'm not surprised. You've never struck me as the kind of doctor who follows everything by the textbook anyway.

[atrophied]

I'm offended that even needs to be said out loud.

[whichwayyoulean]

I'm sure you'll get over it.

[atrophied]

Nope. I'm gonna carry this with me to my grave. Which, by the way, a meat locker? That is disrespectful. At least throw out the meat first.

[whichwayyoulean]

...They put you in a meat locker? Like Zelos?

[atrophied]

And a few others, yep. [ so offensive. equaled to meat. ]

[whichwayyoulean]

[What the fuuuck]

You know, you'd think they'd be better prepared for this kind of thing by now.

[atrophied]

[ he rolls his eyes. ]

You'd think. You'd be wrong.

[whichwayyoulean]

I guess it's too much to ask for, in the long run.

[atrophied]

[ there's a clang of wrong notes. he clutches his thigh just above the knee, his mouth setting in a firm, pained line. fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. ]

[whichwayyoulean]

[Well, that sure is worrying, and the Once-ler sits up instantly, concern in his features]

Do you need your meds?

[atrophied]

I already took them.

[ and he knows he can't take more pills now. ]

[whichwayyoulean]

And they're not working?

[So. Much. Worry]

[atrophied]

What do you think they do?

[whichwayyoulean]

I don't know, I'm not a doctor. Stop the pain?

[atrophied]

In most cases. Me? I'm always in pain. Vicodin just makes it bearable.

[whichwayyoulean]

Oh...I'm sorry to hear that.

[atrophied]

[ sarcasm! ] Yeah. Thanks.

[whichwayyoulean]

Hey, I mean it. I'm sorry I can't do anything to help you, sympathy is pretty much the only thing I can offer.

That and maybe a bionic leg.

[atrophied]

[ he snorts. ]

I'll keep it. I refused to have it amputated before; I've invested too much by now.

[whichwayyoulean]

Even if it causes you so much pain?

[atrophied]

It's my leg.