thedifferencebetween | Ryslig Inbox

Holy dickbags, just calm the frick down everybody!

[Jack doesn't want to deal with some kind of demon on minotaur all out brawl in his freaking living room. Nobody's got time for that.]

Rick, knock off the light show, you're gonna burn down my house and then where are you gonna hang out? Tim....who the hell throws a shoe? Seriously? I'm gonna stick you both in timeout corners...

[He sighs, his cracked screen displaying simple horizontal lines of displeasure.]

Or just taser the hell out of you both, whatever gets ya to chill out.

[A few small, hot orange flames manifest at the mention of tasering, bursting out of Rick's hands, but quickly dying out before they hit the ground. Under normal circumstances, Jack threatening to taser him would be just like him threatening to hook Jack up to The Clapper---hilarious. Turns out joke doesn't really hit the same notes when you were recently tasered and then stabbed to death.

He stares up at Jack for a moment, desperately imploring, before angrily dragging a hand down his face and stumbling over to the coffee table. Fuck it, that was going nowhere. Of course it was going nowhere. What was he expecting Jack to do, read his mind?

He grabs the nearest writing utensil and whatever paper happens to be lying around (Is it a newspaper? A blueprint? An important document? He doesn't care), hastily scrawls "JAW WIRED SHUT" and underlines it a few times for emphasis before irritably holding it up.]

Hey, I'm not the one who barged in at five in the morning--

[Tim starts to argue because he really doesn't feel like he's in the wrong here, he feels a hundred percent justified at chucking a boot at some asshole who's making a shit ton of noise in the living room at stupid o'clock in the morning. He kind of feels like he's a paragon of restraint right now for not throwing something heftier, like a freaking brick.]

[And then Rick holds up his makeshift sign and that catches Tim's attention away from his taser-happy boss.]

Jaw-- wait, what? [Now that he's looking for it, though, Rick's whole mouth region looks a little... off?] Oh. Oh, shit.

[He heads down the rest of the stairs. Cool, things have gone from zero to fucked up in like 0.5 seconds, situation fucking normal or whatever.]

Jack, do you have wire cutters?

[Because fuck if he knew what kind of weird shit Jack had in his lab.]

[.....well shit.]

What the fuck? Is this where you've been? Has somebody been keeping you in a torture dungeon???

[Look, there's gotta be plenty of torture dungeons and murder basements around here, Jack's talked to enough of his fellow monsters to know just how fucked up some people around here are.]

[And Rick...eh, he's the kind of guy that pisses people off. Jack can see it happening. But he's friggin pissed about it. Nobody messes with his BFF!]

Alright, just sit down Rick, we're gonna take care of ya. Tim, I'm gonna go grab my toolbox, it's got wire cutters, pliers, whatever. You get the medical emergency box outta the bathroom cabinet, we'll....probably need that. Everything's cool, we got this!

[Oh shit, is right.

He balks at Jack, urgently gesturung towards the garage and releasing a quick, angry breath through his teeth. They could just head in there, grab some pliers and wire cutters and deal with this, but no! Why do that, when you can run around the house getting the entire toolbox and the medical supply kit and yes, Jack has wire cutters, Steriod Jack. What kind of a workshop doesn't have wire cutters lying around somewhere? Generally, you don't set yourself up with a pet raccoon and a forbidden fridge until you've scored some wire cutters.

And no, he is not going to sit down and wait for you to fetch every conceivable tool in the house. He's going to stand in the middle of the living room, shaking and shooting off the odd torrent of angry sparks, and wait for you to fetch every conceivable tool in the house. He wants to scream. He wants to answer Jack's 800 (2) questions. He wants to open his fucking mouth. This doesn't need to be an ordeal; just help him unwire his jaw.]

[Look, asshole, he doesn't know what kind of weird shit Jack has in his toolbox, and he doesn't want to go digging around in it unless he knows that it has what he's looking for.]

Yeah, got it.

[But regardless of the silent fuming of this geriatric chupacabra motherfucker, Tim was going to go fetch the medical kit. Whether it took wire cutters or some other tool to get Rick's jaw open again, it's probably going to at least need some gauze and maybe styptic to stop the bleeding. So shut up and deal, you're getting help from these two assholes whether you like it or not.]

[It only takes him like a minute to grab the kit and bring it back, anyway. You'll be able to open your big mouth soon and start bitching at everyone.]

[The garage is where the raccoon lives, Jack is not performing home surgery in the place where the raccoon lives. And currently is. No, they're doing it in the living room which is used to weird, biological messes already.]

[Jack is as quick as a heavy robot can possibly be in grabbing his toolbox and returning to the living room.]

Rick...sit the fuck down, I'm not doing this with you standing up. And knock off the sparking, I don't wanna get a shock. You don't want that either, I'm gonna be jabbing blades into your face...

[He glances over at Tim, emoticon expression difficult to read. He doesn't exactly know how to display 'you might have to hold him down' with three simplistic facial features on a screen.]

[[Wait, didn't Jack set up his workshop in the garage? Did he move it or does he just do all his tinkering where the raccoon lives? Does the raccoon live with all the creepy clown garbage? I forgot how this house is laid out, guys.]]

[Alright, fine. Go get a crate full of superfluous tools and medical supplies. Let's do this with every tool in the house. Apparently, there's no stopping you so he'll just pace the living room in quick, tense steps as though he might keel over if he stops moving.

He whirls around and stares at Jack for a moment, his eyes dart between Jack and Tim for a brief moment before he throws his hands up and unceremoniously slumps back onto the couch with a resigned growl. And also some sparks.

Maybe Jack has a point there. Maybe they shouldn't be doing this standing up. Or maybe he's just running out of steam. Whatever, let's jab some blades into his face.]

[Tim's had to do enough impromptu surgery on Elpis to generally know how it goes. If he was lucky, Athena or Wilhelm had gotten shot and they didn't need to be held down; they just kind of took the removal process like the stoic badasses that they were. If Nisha or Aurelia took one, the likelihood of Tim getting the bitch slapped and/or punched out of him were high.]

[So Tim doesn't need to be able to really decipher Jack's weird emoji expression to understand that he might have to keep a flailing chupacabra from clocking Jack while he's trying to open Rick's mouth. Tim sets the med kit on the coffee table and moves so that he's within grabbing distance.]

Okay. Let's just get this done.

[What a way to start the day.]

[Jack waits until Rick is sitting down then has a thought and grabs his rain slicker off the coat rack. Blood is liquid, after all, and there might be a lot. Then he takes a seat - carefully - on the edge of the coffee table. It's more just for balance, his weight his predominantly on his robotic legs. Between him and Tim, they should be able to handle any flailing or involuntary reactions.]

I don't gotta tell ya that this is gonna suck. I'll forgive one bite, but you only get the one.

[He picks up the wire cutters and leans in to get a real good look at what the situation is and where to start cutting.]

[Yes, this is going to suck, but is it going to suck any more than having his jaw indefinitely wired shut? No, it won't.

Rick releases a slow exhale and looks up, eyes briefly darting around Jack's face as he tries to figure out where to look. He quickly settles on looking into Jack's emoticon eye and gives him a grim nod.

He sits up, moving to perch on the edge of the couch before pulling his lower lip down, smearing thick foundation and pale pink lipstick down his face as he exposes a mouth full of sharp, black spotted fangs comingling with three stained, yellowing incisors.

Thin, silvery wires extend from his upper and lower gums almost naturally, as though they're meant to be there. They've been neatly twisted together to hold his jaw in place. They aren't wound tightly enough to give him a clenched, unnatural appearance, but they're firm. Secure.

If you look closely, there are four small, almost imperceptible, pins anchored just under his chin and four anchored just above his upper lip.]

[Jack takes a good long look and a part of him can appreciate the work, honestly. It's good. Whoever did this knew what they were doing and has definitely done it before. That's mildly alarming.]

Okay Sunshine, here we go. And ya know I love ya, but buddy...dental hygiene. It's a thing.

[He's looking right into Rick's mouth, he can't not notice the appearance of the demon's teeth. Someone needs a whitening kit yesterday. Does he even own a toothbrush? Jack has so many questions.]

[But also a job to do. He leans in close, slipping one metal pinky finger inside to prod at a twist of wire and see how much room he has to work with. Not as much as he'd like, but it'll do. He shrugs to himself and goes in with the wire cutters, trying not to jab Rick in the gums as he positions them around the most accessible of the wiring.]

[Trying.]

[Okay. He gets it. He has bad teeth, but is that the real issue here, Jack? No it's not.

He instinctively begins to flinch back as Jack goes in with the wire cutters and the metal scrapes against his fangs and pulls the wiring taught, but he grips at the couch cushions and stops himself. Yes, this sucks. This is going to suck huge gangrenous dicks, but Jack knows what he's doing. Jack's done all kinds of weird, innovative shit with robotics. Pulling a few wires out of his face is nothing. This is going to be worth it.

So he keeps still, breathing heavily, and only releasing a sharp, irritated grunt when the blade works around the wiring and briefly jabs him in the gum.]

[Jack does know what he's doing. He's used to delicate work like this, just...not usually on living subjects. But he's as careful as he possibly can be.]

Alright...

[Jack mutters to himself as he makes the first snip, careful not to catch Rick's gums or lips further with the edge of the cutters. Or as careful as he can be, he's not holding out for getting through this without cutting Rick a couple of times. It's impossible. He's gonna have some oopsies.]

[But he tries not to do any more damage than is already done. It's hard. Mouths. They're dark and slippery and Rick does not have the ideal mouth for this. His weird friggin teeth...Jack curses softly every time the wire cutters slip or twist off the wire and metal meets tender, sensitive demon flesh.]

Shit...sorry....sorry...don't worry about it, I'm gonna pump ya full of painkillers after this, ya won't even remember how many times I stab ya...

[But he's sure glad Tim is here, just in case.]

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