The pliers catch on the last tooth, a molar that's always stubborn about coming out, a tooth that always seems to have the biggest, most jagged crystal shard jammed up underneath it. Galliard tightens his grip around the pliers and wrenches, his hand moving quick and sure, practiced. The molar cracks and separates from his gums; another tug, and it comes free with a wet, squelching sound.
Galliard removes the pliers from his mouth, loosening them to drop the broken tooth into the sink. It lands with a little splash, sinking momentarily into the pool of blood before bobbing back to the surface as Galliard carefully, reverently lays the pliers on the edge of the sink.
He turns to Marco then, and smiles at him. His mouth is steaming, but his teeth haven't grown back yet, leaving his mouth a ruin of blood and gaping holes.
"The shards are gone now." All the words slur together in a mush, and the effort of speaking through all the gore makes Galliard cough. He bends over the sink, hacking and spraying blood everywhere, spitting heavy clots out between gagging.
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Galliard removes the pliers from his mouth, loosening them to drop the broken tooth into the sink. It lands with a little splash, sinking momentarily into the pool of blood before bobbing back to the surface as Galliard carefully, reverently lays the pliers on the edge of the sink.
He turns to Marco then, and smiles at him. His mouth is steaming, but his teeth haven't grown back yet, leaving his mouth a ruin of blood and gaping holes.
"The shards are gone now." All the words slur together in a mush, and the effort of speaking through all the gore makes Galliard cough. He bends over the sink, hacking and spraying blood everywhere, spitting heavy clots out between gagging.