tfln: mom edition

[sewoften]

✂ post a comment for your character(s) ✂ include one or more texts from last night, or invent your own! ✂ comment around to others having received or sent them a text from last night ✂ laugh ✂ cry ✂ probably don't laugh-cry ✂ enjoy

Comments

[sewoften]

If we were both drunk enough to agree duct tape was a good idea, I should be reexamining that stitchwork.

[databoner]

I am honestly afraid to take the duct tape off.

[sewoften]

Don't bother, I have steadier hands than you do and the next best thing to a license in scissor operations. Besides, we have to check for infection.

[databoner]

Iori, you know I trust you with all of my being, but.

I am unconvinced you don't have a hangover, and I would rather someone entirely sober looked at this.

[sewoften]

Like that's stopped me before.

[databoner]

... Alright. I give. Come here and look.

[sewoften]

1 sec rolling off couch

[ there's no accompanying thump-crash or groaning, so he can't be doing that badly. (in theory.) ]

[databoner]

[He hears no bump, so he waits a few seconds and then replies.]

... I assume your mission was a success?

[sewoften]

[ he could bother answering that text or he could just push open the door and stand there for a moment, backlit, having lost his hairtie at some point while passed out on the couch so he's suffering like. bedhead windswept dramatics right now.

his coat's missing, so he's only dressed in black, but you know. whatever. sans a mask but with his glasses, he has arrived.

from like ten feet away. ]

... So far so good.

[databoner]

[Nice Satsuki pose there, Iori. Inumuta squints a little at the backlighting, and the groans and turns away.]

Shut the door, it's too bright out.

[Also everything is blurry, because his glasses have fucked off to who knows where.]

[sewoften]

[ spend thirteen years around someone and sometimes mannerisms just slip across. but hey, he's nice enough to sort of listen. he closes the door and shuffle-hunts for a lamp to turn on, since one does not simply examine stitches and duct tape in darkness.

... well, not if one plans to be effective. at least his headache's not that bad, and he doesn't have cottonmouth. god, why didn't he stop by the kitchen to get water? mysteries. and food... he could eat right now... ]

Better?

[ snick. ON GOES THE LAMP. sorry not sorry bro ]

[databoner]

[Have some annoyed groaning instead, as Inumuta covers his eyes with an arm across his face.]

Marginally.

[For someone with a worse hangover than Iori, he's certainly has kept his wide vocabulary.]

It's on my hip.

[Go ahead and take a look, doc. He's just going to lay on his bed and pray water materializes in his hand.]

[sewoften]

[ earning an owlish blink because how goddamn drunk were they? decisions that mystify in less alcohol clouded moments: most all of this.

while neither one of them get visited by the water fairy, iori at least slides onto the bed and starts examining the duct tape on inumuta's hip. just. over sutures? ]

Do you remember what this was from?

[ iori does not. he's starting to pull at the edge of the duct tape. this is... going to go slow. ]

[databoner]

[They were probably really fucked up.]

If I remembered absolutely anything-

[Jesus, just rip it off, the slow removal of tape is killing him.]

I would let you know. It's possible I wound up cutting myself open somehow, and we decided you would be the best to option to solve it.

[sewoften]

[ nope, but he flicks inumuta's hip when he's twitching because deal with it, tearing stitches out improperly would be more damaging in the end than the slow torture. u r welcome. ]

At least it's probably shallow... if it were deeper, it probably wouldn't have bled enough for me to be suggesting calling emergency medical services while completely intoxicated in the first place.

[ #logic ]

[databoner]

[He imagines if it was a serious injury, he would just be dead.]

If that's your prognosis, Doctor.

[No, Inumuta. Now is not the time for sexy doctor roleplay.]

[sewoften]

Hah.

[ funny, Inumuta. Iori finishes coaxing the tape off, checking for signs of inflamation, but aside from irritation caused by the tape and the thin paper towel that had been packed in like the world's worst bandaid, Inumuta's looking fine.

Iori just has to frown at the stichwork. That shit so ain't straight. What the hell was he even...

He changes his angle, looking at the stitching again. Ah. Right there, in characters. Iorin Shiro.

He'd literally woven his own name into Inumuta's stitches. Wow. ]

... It's all shallow. Nothing looks infected.

[ good thing Inumuta's too blind to see his face right now 'cause he's sure trying not to fucking laugh as he scoots back off the bed to stand. he can still hear it in his voice, mostly because he knows him well. alas. ]

We should be able to take them out tonight or tomorrow. Want water for your headache?

[ he'll even be helpful. CLEARLY JUST AMUSED INU'S WORSE OFF THAN HE IS RIGHT ]

[databoner]

[Well, from what he can tell of Iori's face, he must not be in too bad a shape. But he's... definitely amused by it, for some reason. Which is suspicious. Inumuta shifts a hand over to try and touch the stitches, which is a no-no for health reasons, but he wants to know what's so funny about them.]

I would like water, yes.

[Learn from your uncle, Shiro. Be the butler he knows you can be.]

[sewoften]

[ Does anyone actually think Iori can be a tenth of the butler his uncle is, because that'd be the first he's heard of it. Nonchalantly going to head off to the kitchen now. He's juuust nice enough to close the door nicely (saves his own head too), shaking his head once he's in the hall.

He does eventually come back with two water glasses, though he downed half his out in the kitchen and he's drummed up his hairtie so that he's pulled his hair back by the time he's offering Inumuta a glass of water with a pinch (or less) of salt he'd tossed in.

Let's do the electrolyte rehydration thing friend! ]

Here. Sit up.

[databoner]

[Uuuuughhh he doesn't want to sit up. He hardly gets sick, but when he does, it's the worst thing ever. Grumpily, Inumuta pushes himself at least halfway upright, taking the glass and drinking it like he's trying to win a contest. Four gulps later:]

Thank you.

[sewoften]

[ He'd have tossed in a pinch of baking soda too if he figured Inumuta's stomach was upset, but as it is, this'll have to do. Past that, suck it up, Inumuta did this to himself. Iori shrugs, giving a dismissive roll of his wrist and wave of his hand. ]

It's not a problem.

[ He pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, frowning a little - where did he leave his mask? He'd just been at the couch, it wasn't there. Hell, where were Inu's glasses? ... Nawh, those can stay missing for a while. ]

[databoner]

[Fortunately, he doesn't feel ill enough to be nauseous. Just photo-sensitive and bitchy... but when isn't he bitchy? As for his glasses, should Iori go looking for them... they're actually on a seat in the living room. One wrong sit, and they're totally being smashed. Hope Iori thinks he's cute when squinting, because thats 1. happening a lot right now and 2. will continue to happen, if Gamagori or someone accidentally sits on them.]

So this is what it's like to drink so much you forget the previous day...

[Well, it was research, to a degree...]

[sewoften]

[ he'll probably find those the hard way in a little bit if he's not careful. the squinting is more something he gets.

except randomly when his glasses are zapped away he doesn't get drawn squinting does he even care what he's looking at? who knows. ]

Isn't there at least one theory that you'll remember later?

[ when it all comes back in bits and pieces later on. anyway now heading back on out, this time to dump the duct tape and the paper... towel... ]

Do you remember where you left your glasses?

[ LOUD NOISES ]

[databoner]

If I remembered, do you think-

[No, nope, fuck yelling. It's not happening. He's dizzy from eeven attempting to yell. Inumuta groans and takes out his phone again. Yeah, he can't see for shit, but he's typing via memory. Also has his phone to read his text replies outloud, right now]

If I remembered, don't you think I would be crawling around to get to them by now?

[sewoften]

[ He's sorting through things out in the living room. Bzz! He pulls out his phone, flicking a finger over the lock screen so he can read the rest of the text.

Then goes screw it, hits call, and waits for Inumuta to pick up.

Yeah.

Yeah, he's... he's sure calling from the living room. ]