Marco Bott <of the holy booty> (
sunspotted) wrote2030-11-29 12:16 am
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INBOX (UN: MARCO.BOTT)
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Uh - this is Marco - Marco Bott! I'll get back in touch as soon as I can!
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His gaze is drawn to what he thinks is bloody water but rapidly realizes is just blood, jagged bits floating in it. It doesn't take long for him to realize that the chunks are teeth. His hand leaves the doorknob and comes up to his own mouth, covering it reflexively.
He's still staring at the sink when something snaps in Galliard's mouth, the sound of bone and flesh separating, and he winces hearing it, his body jumping a little. He tears his gaze away to look at Galliard, his eyes wide as saucers.
Galliard looks like some madman out of a horror story, a boogeyman they used to spook each other with over campfires during survival training. It's worse, when it's someone you care about with their own blood and gore running down their front.
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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.
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Marco lowers his hand from his mouth, swallowing reflexively.
"I'm glad you got them out," he says, but he can't manage an entirely even voice; it wavers a little. He reaches out, carefully, to rest a hand on Galliard's shoulder.