тнe oɴce-ler (
truffulacide) wrote in
mayfield_logs2012-05-14 10:42 pm
Entry tags:
❀ Shut up and eat! [CLOSED]
Who: The Once-ler, Rapunzel, and Audrey
What: Mother's Day shenanigans at 917 Bilko, starring: a chronic whiner, Ms. Most-Certainly-Not-A-Princess, and the girl who loved trees.IN 3D!
When: May 13 (backdated)
Warnings: Nothing!
[waking up strange is not something Once-ler is accustomed to (although he should be considering the type of town he's in), and it's even worse when it's a kind of oddness that doesn't even have a name. the thing it comes closest to being branded as is restlessness; like there's something he ought to be doing right now, something grand and very obviously important, but what that might be is anyone's guess. it nags at him from the moment he wakes up and turns his head, sleepy eyes falling upon the smaller figure that's laying scootched away from him on the furthest end of the bed. that's when the feelings start - the nagging but not wholly bad emotions that tell him to do something, anything, to show that he cares.
- wait, what? what's there to care about? where did this even come from? scratch that, this IS unpleasant. he's not having any of this, thanks very much. quietly, he gets out of bed and tiptoes to the dresser to get some clean clothes because, even if he has to spend the rest of the morning pacing around the yard or, heck, up and down the block, there's no way he's going to dwell on this. distractions are awesome like that.
it's when he takes his first step outside the house that the first although... starts gnawing at his brain. as long as he's out, he might as well swing by the store and pick up more flour and eggs. you can never have enough eggs.
and chocolate. and flowers. and, as he finds out roughly two hours later when he returns home with bags crammed in his arms, stuffed animals. how that teddy bear found its way into his grocery bags is a mystery, but he supposes that's the risk you take when you grab anything that even looks remotely adorable, regardless of price or size. he's pretty sure there's a stuffed duck in here somewhere, too. this got out of control real fast.
by the time either of his two non-droned housemates wake up, Once-ler will already be at the stove cooking. there's already two plates stacked to the top with pancakes on the kitchen table, laying amidst a sea of flowers and boxed chocolates, and he shows no sign of stopping anytime soon if the state of his frying pan is anything to go by.]
What: Mother's Day shenanigans at 917 Bilko, starring: a chronic whiner, Ms. Most-Certainly-Not-A-Princess, and the girl who loved trees.
When: May 13 (backdated)
Warnings: Nothing!
[waking up strange is not something Once-ler is accustomed to (although he should be considering the type of town he's in), and it's even worse when it's a kind of oddness that doesn't even have a name. the thing it comes closest to being branded as is restlessness; like there's something he ought to be doing right now, something grand and very obviously important, but what that might be is anyone's guess. it nags at him from the moment he wakes up and turns his head, sleepy eyes falling upon the smaller figure that's laying scootched away from him on the furthest end of the bed. that's when the feelings start - the nagging but not wholly bad emotions that tell him to do something, anything, to show that he cares.
- wait, what? what's there to care about? where did this even come from? scratch that, this IS unpleasant. he's not having any of this, thanks very much. quietly, he gets out of bed and tiptoes to the dresser to get some clean clothes because, even if he has to spend the rest of the morning pacing around the yard or, heck, up and down the block, there's no way he's going to dwell on this. distractions are awesome like that.
it's when he takes his first step outside the house that the first although... starts gnawing at his brain. as long as he's out, he might as well swing by the store and pick up more flour and eggs. you can never have enough eggs.
and chocolate. and flowers. and, as he finds out roughly two hours later when he returns home with bags crammed in his arms, stuffed animals. how that teddy bear found its way into his grocery bags is a mystery, but he supposes that's the risk you take when you grab anything that even looks remotely adorable, regardless of price or size. he's pretty sure there's a stuffed duck in here somewhere, too. this got out of control real fast.
by the time either of his two non-droned housemates wake up, Once-ler will already be at the stove cooking. there's already two plates stacked to the top with pancakes on the kitchen table, laying amidst a sea of flowers and boxed chocolates, and he shows no sign of stopping anytime soon if the state of his frying pan is anything to go by.]

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A-AAH!
[they start skidding until he slams down on the brakes, the tail-end of the car spinning until it collides with something - namely, the trunk of the aforementioned tree.
good news, though! they've stopped! and they're still alive, so...bonus points.]
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If you guessed Audrey you were right.]
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he never thought he'd be so happy to have grass in his face. truly, this is a day of miracles.]
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... That was pretty good for your first try!
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D - Do me a favor?
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[face, meet ground. again.]
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I mean, we didn't kill anything! Or hit anything too hard, which is more than I can say for my first time driving.
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[that ain't a good sign. when he speaks again, his voice is understandably muffled 'cause, you know, faceinground.jpg.]
Then - you - can take us home. Get a...a phone book to sit on. Make a lil' cushion so you can see over the wheel. [he lifts an arm and flops it about, blindly pointing to a house.] Think there was one on the doorstep over...somewhere.
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Nooooo. Too busy puking.
[he really isn't. the gross noises coming from the back of his throat aren't fake, though; those are natural.]
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