Gamblin' Man

Oswald "Ozzy" Marks. He/They. Entrepreneur. Here for a good time, not for a long time.

[oswaldxmarks]

An Apple A Day || Jaz

[the-pumpkin-king-lament]

Jack felt great.

It would fade fast-- that was the shitty part of his ER buffets. As long as he sat there, the emptiness inside him quieted like turning a radio down. He liked it when the staff took extra long to see him, because then he could even pull a reagent or two outta the air...the general malaise and trepidation that filled the air like miasma.

And he really liked it when he got an intern. Well, not that Grundler girl. She was all steel. But there was one or two who were practically shaking as they took his vitals, petrified of fucking up or just stressed and running on fumes from their long shifts.

Today was one of those days. He'd gotten a real flop of an intern. To be fair to them, it was their first time doing stitches--

Jack lifted his palm, flashing the cut he'd slashed into his own hand. "Hand slipped while cuttin' up some watermelon," he said, grinning. "Wanna look at these stitches? You can tell when the intern gave up and fetched Mitchell." He chuckled. "I think he went to throw up."

@oswaldxmarks

[oswaldxmarks]

No, Oz did not want to see Jack's probably less-than-accidental wound. But Jack showed it off anyway.

Of course the intern went and got Mitchell. Weren't there any other doctors in the er?

He didn't like the air of satisfaction that wafted off of Jack. A gluttonous urge filled. A desire satiated. It made his mind start to wander to what he could've gotten up to in that ER. He just had to hope dr. mitchell valued his medical license more than a quickie with a patient.

"Must be a shit intern if doing stitches makes them sick," Oz muttered. "And what's it gonna be next time? You oughta be careful, or one of these times they're gonna do a psych eval on you and then you'll never get outta there."

@the-pumpkin-king-lament

[oswaldxmarks]

An Apple A Day || Jaz

[oswaldxmarks]

Ever since the surgery, Oz tried to be normal. He was normal. Until every other day it seemed there was something new going on with Jack. First it was just followups for the appendectomy, then it was a headache. Then some stomach thing. Then a sprained elbow. And just more and more excuses to go to the ER.

He was trying to be normal about it. He shouldn't care. He didn't care! And yet when Jack came in to work after this most recent visit, something in him couldn't handle sensing that satisfied glow about him.

"So what ailed you this time?" he asked, leaning against the bar, his tone playful but something sour in his eyes. "Infected hangnail, or weird ear pain again?"

@the-pumpkin-king-lament

[oswaldxmarks]

An Apple A Day || Jaz

[dr-drckken]

Attempt #2: Framed || Blue Bug

[oswaldxmarks]

“I fucking know what direction the sun moves!” Oz snapped back. “I’m in a windowless fucking building right now—in the fucking dark!!” Other than the glow of the crackling fire. He was a little disoriented and couldn’t remember which side the moon was rising when he’d entered the barn. Or even really where he’d entered it. His focus was definitely elsewhere now.

He heard the thud against a wall. Oz grabbed the goat by the horn, it bleated as he dragged it along, the shadows helping it to glide across the floor. “You could’ve said ‘if you’re back’s to the door, east is on your right,’ like doesn’t matter which way I’m facing,” he griped under his breath.

Okay. East wall. What the fuck was he looking for now?

There was an itching behind his eyes, not just from the smoke. It directed Oz’s attention toward a certain board, termites flooding into the crack between boards.

Sweat was pooling over his skin as the flames grew, consuming the barn around him. He was going to throttle Drakken if he got burned in here.

He started kicking at the board, coughing as the smoke and ash burned through his airway. Until finally it gave way. The rush of fresh cold air felt so nice, but the fire seemed to think so as well as it began spreading faster and hotter.

“Fuck!” He coughed, wiggling the other boards with one hand while he kept the goat nearby with the other. The other boards started to break, which just again gave more fuel to the fire. There was a goat sized hole though that he managed to force the creature through despite it starting to protest against that action.

By the time there was enough space to squeeze drag himself through, most of the barn was engulfed, structural beams creaking and starting to collapse. He felt the wood scrape against his arms and back as he dragged himself out, collapsing on the grass still far too near the burning building.

“You fucking piece of shit!” he choked, looking up at Drakken. The goat was running frantically in circles around them screaming. “What the fuck!!”

@dr-drckken

[dr-drckken]

@oswaldxmarks

At this point, the audio coming through into Drakken's ears was more static and robotic than it was the sound of Marks' very annoying voice. It only added to the heightened state that he was in, shoving more sensory overload into Drakken's brain along with the bright fire that was only getting bigger, the intoxicating smell of smoke that was clinging to everything and would probably follow him home, and the heat of it that was brushing his exposed skin.

The sounds of the emergency vehicles and their screeching sirens were also not helping.

He paced, back and forth, in front of the wall, waiting. Somewhere in the barn there was a loud crack– no doubt a beam or board of some sort falling victim to the fire. A dark plume puffed up into the sky, the flames illuminating it was it traveled in a lazy roll up toward the bare branches of trees and further toward the stars.

Finally, the wall began to move. He stopped, watching as the thinned piece began to splinter outwards until a goat came through the hole that had been made. Drakken let out a breath, watching the creature fall into the dirt before getting back to its feat in a daze, and then turned back–

And there was the man all of this had been for.

He opened his mouth to reply to the expletives with something much more poised, but suddenly flashing blue lights were being cast across the space. A fire truck had pulled up and the brigade all hopped out, getting to work tending to the fire before it spread no doubt. After them was an ambulance and then a– oh fiddlesticks.

"Oi!" the police officer called as he got out of his car, already jogging over to them. "Are you two alright?"

The goat screamed again.

Drakken frowned, looking down at Marks again. Alive and, unfortunately, well.

Oh, this plan had not gone as he had hoped it would at all.

Well, at least it couldn't get any worse.

"What the bloody hell happened here?" the officer asked, looking up at the burning building as he slowed his steps toward them. Drakken turned to meet the man's eye and saw the suspicion there and suddenly a new revenge plot sprang to mind. He opened his mouth, ready to place all the blame on the one having a coughing fit on the floor, when he was interrupted. Again.

"I saw everything, officer!" a voice called out. A short man appeared from the mazes of vehicles. He had a pair of thick, black glasses on his face, a camera around his neck, and a dark hair. Drakken swore he recognized him from...somewhere...? But that didn't matter, as he was more concerned with there being a witness. He stood up a bit straighter, eyes wide, as he anticipated the explanation that was about to come out– but then the shorter man pointed to Marks. "That man is a hero?"

"What?" the officer asked.

"What?" Drakken asked.

"Who are you?" the officer went on.

"Toby Determined, Swynlake Squire," the little man said. (Ah, that's where Drakken knew him from. Town Hall.) He continued to point at Marks, "He came out of that barn and saved that goat! It was incredible, see?"

He hoisted the camera up and stood beside the officer to show him a series of photos he had taken, all proving what he had just said. The officer's lower lips stuck out, impressed, and looked up at the hole in the wall and then down at Marks, "Well done, lad."

"Excuse me!" a gruff voice said and everyone turned to look at a firefighter approaching. "You all need to get back!"

"Right," the officer said and leaned over to offer his hand to Marks. "Come on, then. Let's get you looked at by the medics. And you–" he nodded to Drakken, "–fetch that goat, will you?"

[oswaldxmarks]

Oz was about ready to start yelling at Drakken, telling him off for that stupid fucking stunt he pulled. He barely had time to try to sit up before he heard another voice.

Oh good, a cop. Oz had never really been thrilled to see law enforcement at any point, and even now it was a little annoying but maybe they could actually do something useful here.

And maybe if Oz could get a fucking word out without starting to cough up smoke, he would've been able to lambast Drakken for whatever the fuck this stunt was. But before he could even try, another voice popped out of nowhere. Why the fuck was that guy just out in the dark with a camera? Who the hell was he?

"What?" Oswald coughed out as well, though nobody was really listening to him. He tried to take a peek at the camera as well, catching a glimpse of him pushing the goat out of the barn before himself, as well as a picture where Drakken just looked panicked and unhelpful. Oz could've laughed if he didn't think it would set his lungs on fire.

He took the officer's hand as he helped him off the ground. "Thank you," he said, coughing more than he needed to for dramatic effect. Like he really risked it all for that dumb creature. As the police officer started to lead him toward the medics, Oz glanced back at Drakken, giving him a wink.

@dr-drckken

[the-pumpkin-king-lament]

So Happy I Could Burst || Jaz

[the-pumpkin-king-lament]

Oh lovely. He was going to be cut open.

Like most unfortunate things in Jack's life, he accepted it when he realized he could not run from it. This was one of Jack's greatest strengths. Many times, he had accepted almost certain doom, giving himself over to his fate-- finding some beauty in his own terror-- even finding relief. There had never been a light at the tunnel for him, but a grisly, dark end seemed just as comforting for a boy made out of sand, who delighted in making others scream.

So. He was going to be cut open! His organs slapped on a table! Blood oozing around his wounds! And it was going to be this man who did it-- this man who had kissed him and put his mouth on his cock. This was surely third base. Or a home run? Better than sex? He'd have to ask Dr. Boring Story when he was finished.

He blinked and breathed and rolled his glassy eyes first toward Oz, then flicked them toward the doctor, then finally let them rest up on the ceiling, and he hoped that if he was normal on the inside, if he did survive this latest calamity--

"Well, can I at least keep it when you cut it out?" he croaked. "My appendix?"

He'd like to put it in a little jar. It was so rare that his nightmares fit so neatly in something like that.

@oswaldxmarks

@tod-mitchell

[tod-mitchell]

Both questions were--

Not ones he often got. It almost made him laugh. Maybe he would've if it had just been Jack. But Jack's friend was giving him a death glare. For whatever reason.

Tod was more or less used to that. People all dealt with illness and trauma differently, especially when it was their family member or friend or someone they cared about who was sick. Some people were just a mess, crying and incoherent. Some where stoic, tucking their concern somewhere safe like it would keep their loved one safe too. Some were teary but grateful, telling you to do whatever you could.

And some were angry guard dogs, looking for a reason to bite.

Tod did not appreciate the questioning and hostility. It made him wary, considering he'd had to deal with altercations in the past. And he really was not looking to get into a fight--verbally or otherwise--tonight.

"Yeah, sure, you can keep it," Tod said, giving Jack a squeeze to his shoulder and then nodded at the nurses, stepping back so they could buzz around like worker bees, getting Jack prepared to go to CT and then, most likely, straight to the surgery theater.

Tod turned to Oz. "It isn't against my oath. I can operate on people I know. Jack and I only know each other in passing anyway. And you'd be hard pressed to find a doctor here tonight who doesn't know who Jack Skellington is," Tod pointed out. "It is a small town. It is part of the job. I've performed more appies than I can count at this point. I am not concerned. I can't 100% guarantee he'll be okay--" you never could "--but we will take good care of him."

@oswaldxmarks, @the-pumpkin-king-lament

[oswaldxmarks]

Oz wasn't going to fight the guy. Not in the fuckin' emergency room at least. He could tell the doctor was getting wary of him, and he wished he cared more. The demon was too busy jacking up all his annoying and obsessive emotions. But it was late--just past midnight now--Oz had brought Jack here from work. Maybe he could cut him some slack as a tired, stressed out coworker and friend.

He could almost sense the demon making a face at Jack's question. Not that he asked to keep his appendix, but that this was the guy that had his host stewing in envy? A guy that's main concern was getting a shriveled up organ back in a jar? Of course he was. That's what Ozzy got for being attached to this weirdo.

But his blood heated again when Tod squeezed Jack's shoulder, so he'd take Oswald's weirdo obsession if it meant he was getting fed.

"Right," he gave Tod a short nod. "Okay. Well... I guess I'll be in the waiting room? So you can go ahead and get the appie started." He exhaled, then looked at Jack. Feverish, sweaty, had already thrown up like twice Jack.

"You heard the doctor. There's like a five percent chance your guts explode and they can't get you outta this one," he said in a slightly playful way, clasping Jack on the other shoulder. He gave him a slight squeeze. "I'll be right out there when you wake up, okay? You're gonna be fine. You got the best in the biz here apparently."

Oz should have known better than to want to make the doctor about to operate on his friend squirm. But he couldn't help it. Between the jealousy boiling under his skin and the possessiveness he felt over Jack... well, he just wanted him to have to think about his actions a little more.

Still squeezing his shoulder, Oz took his other hand and brushed Jack's sweaty hair off his forehead before pressing a gentle kiss there. Jack was hopefully too out of it to call him out on this, and it should definitely give the doctor second thoughts about certain things. And, well, if Jack did die at least he got an ounce of physical affection beforehand.

He stepped away from Jack, smoothing his hair back down, and looked at Tod again. "Take good care of him, okay? I'm sure you will."

Oz patted Jack's shoulder one more time before leaving the room. He wondered if he needed to call Limitless to tell him Jack was about to have surgery or if he somehow already knew.

@the-pumpkin-king-lament @tod-mitchell

[oswaldxmarks]

Fires of Hell || Eragon AU || Jaz

[oswaldxmarks]

The battle raged on, Riders and Shields clashing, dragon fire burning in the air, the stench of iron heavy in ones lungs. Ozriel's muscles grew weary, his sword stained and dulled from those he had already cut down. It felt like the tide was turning in his favor, though. He was almost satisfied to halt his troops and demand surrender once again.

But then he saw him. A dark flash of hair as some spell went off not too far away. The whole reason he had been so determined to come to this island now, the only thing that would keep the heat of battle hot in his blood.

It was not tactful, the way he charged his former prisoner. The one whose betrayal and escape had truly spurned him enough to command these attacks. There was no plan in his mind, he didn't even have his sword ready to strike. Instead, he ran at him, tackling him to the ground.

"You filthy little rat," he hissed, slamming Jack's shoulders against the ground. "How dare you run and make a fool of me? I should flay you here and now!"

@the-pumpkin-king-lament

[oswaldxmarks]

Fires of Hell || Eragon AU || Jaz

[oswaldxmarks]

My Circus, My Monkeys || Boozy

[boointhenight]

Boo chuckled and shrugged at that. She had a feeling the sex would still be excellent the next time it happened. He was creative and looking for distraction. She was more than happy to take advantage. But it did remind her. "I sort of said that if the people chasing him came to town he should head to Pierrot's or the Court. Just. Heads up."

Not that he had to do anything. It might never be relevant.

She took another large sip of her Coke, turning over the question. "I guess I just don't think about it that much. I mean, shit, my childhood is a podcast episode on a couple different true crime podcasts. People can google my name and my own website isn't even close to the top result. With the recent stuff...I don't know. The people I've told haven't told any of the stuff that matters. I just kind of hope that they won't. And if they do, then I deal with that next. I've got other shit to worry about, I can't add this one to the list of worries, you know?"

@oswaldxmarks

[oswaldxmarks]

"Oh, good, okay," Oz nodded, "Well, as long as they're giant evil clowns, I know how to take care of 'em."

He... hadn't looked into her childhood. He didn't know there was a whole case around her. Perhaps he should have looked into it. Maybe now he would. She'd mentioned it in passing but until she laid it out like that he hadn't really thought about looking her up.

He wondered what came up when you googled him. He hadn't looked in a long time. He didn't want to know.

Oz just nodded, looking at his hands. She had other shit to worry about, sure. But did he? If the demon was exposed and people started making assumptions or avoiding his club because of it, what then? What if people knowing meant his demon lost its ability to feed? He'd seen Ozzy's anger before. He didn't need it again.

"Does it make things harder, for both of you? When more people know? And how do you deal with it?" he wondered. "How do I know he's not going to use that against me someday?"

@boointhenight

[the-pumpkin-king-lament]

So Happy I Could Burst || Jaz

[the-pumpkin-king-lament]

Dr. Boring Story asked him a series of very boring questions. Jack was back to grimacing and whimpering-- a fantastic substitution for the answers he couldn't give.

What had he eaten in the last 24 hours... Jack couldn't remember. Water. Maybe nibbling on his magical sand. A candy bar? Someone call up the Tipton and check his bill for room service.

As for allergies, Jack wondered if being allergic to the world counted. Reality itself made him sick. Only in his dreams did he find some escape from his hunger, his pain, his misery.

Lucky for Jack, Oz managed to put together much better answers than Jack would have. He peeled open one eye to look at his business partner as a strange impulse rolled through him to reach out a hand and take Oz's in his.

Jack did not listen to the impulse.

If he did, he'd have to remove his hands from that funny little pressure point the doctor touched. Jack was pressing hard on it, breathing heavily, trying not to cry like a baby.

"Whoa, whoa. Is there another option besides surgery?" he interjected finally. Because that was the last thing, wasn't it? Jack wasn't fancying getting cut open, sue him!

And he wondered-- what if his guts were all wrong? What if the doctor opened him and knew automatically that Jack was something other than human-- a monster from a black lagoon from a fantasy world far far away?

@oswaldxmarks @tod-mitchell

[tod-mitchell]

All very good and very normal questions.

Tod stayed quiet as Jack's...friend?--(Seemed that way, considering how much he did know about Jack. He hoped it wasn't his partner, lol. Though, from what he knew about Jack, he wouldn't put it past him to cheat necessarily.)--asked his questions.

When Jack spoke, he turned to him first. Generally, he gave the patient more attention than the family as they were the one who actually had to undergo treatment.

"Unfortunately, the way things are looking right now, surgery is the only way to remove it safely. If it had been caught earlier, we might've been able to treat it with antibiotics, but once you pass the point of no return, surgery is the only way. Don't worry, not to brag, but you're in good hands." He flashed a smile at Jack.

"That is why we are doing the CT. To confirm surgery is our only option. It will tell us how inflamed your appendix is."

He looked up at Oswald. "That'll all depend on the CT too. Generally, appendectomies take about an hour, but it could be more or less, depending on how inflamed. If it bursts, it could be longer.

"Once it is done and he's recovering, he'll be okay on his own. Just needs to make sure to take it easy for a few days. And he'll need someone to take him home from the hospital since you'll be groggy from the anesthesia," Tod said this to both Oswald and Jack.

"Don't worry, I can do one of these with my eyes closed."

@oswaldxmarks, @the-pumpkin-king-lament

[oswaldxmarks]

For a moment, Jack actually seemed nervous at the mention of surgery. Oz couldn't blame him, he would be too. He had no idea what his insides looked like anymore with all the demon had done to him over the years. He had no idea if shadows would ooze out with his blood or if a swarm of locusts would burst from an incision. Would anesthetics even knock him out or would the demon take over and keep him up and cause problems for the doctors? He was glad he wasn't the one on the table.

He didn't like the 'reassuring' grin the doctor gave Jack. Especially with the comment it was attached to. It made Oswald's stomach clench and his muscles tense. Couldn't there be another surgeon around here? Why did it have to be one Jack clearly had some history with? And, what, now he was going to save his life? That was some bullshit.

The doctor kept saying if. If it bursts. Oz didn't like that either. Especially because he felt so certain it had--or the demon was fucking with him, which wouldn't be a surprise given their history, but still. To him, it felt like more. And standing here talking about it was definitely not going to get it fixed.

Oz nodded. He'd pick him up, take him back to his hotel room, maybe give the run down to Limitless. He could stay and help, but would Jack want that? What would he even do to help him? Just sit there and watch and make sure he didn't die?

It was strange to see Jack like this. Not that he wasn't emotional and whiny whenever he didn't get his way, but this was different. He was in pain, he was upset. It reminded him of how he looked in the Nightmirrors as Pierrot was destroyed. Oz stepped closer to the bed again, almost putting his hand on Jack's shoulder.

Instead, he just gripped the railing again.

"You're gonna be fine," he tried to reassure him. "They do this kind of surgery all the time."

Which Tod confirmed with his little comment. So confident in himself. So annoying and arrogant. Oz gripped the railing a little tighter, looking back up at Tod.

"But you know each other, right? Isn't that like, against your oath? You're not supposed to do surgery on people you have some relation to?" Maybe he shouldn't have said that, but the demon wanted a little more drama out of all these lovely, volatile feelings in the room. It also wasn't like it was a secret; they had whatever the fuck that 'mr. dr. story' inside joke was. But Oz knew there was more to it, not that he could say, but he knew.

@the-pumpkin-king-lament @tod-mitchell

[the-pumpkin-king-lament]

So Happy I Could Burst || Jaz

[oswaldxmarks]

Oz wanted to scold Jack for not doing something about this sooner. He’d been hurting since last night? No one the stupid fucking demon was ready to pounce, he’d been marinating in this. The decay of his organs as the infection spread made Oz’s stomach curdle. The demon on the other hand was loving it.

A fly buzzed as it perched on the overhead florescent light.

He was also loving the side of jealousy that was coming with his meal as the doctor—doing his job—pinned Jack down.

It wasn’t that that alone was enough for Oz to get jealous. It was the playful nickname, the recognition between them, the demon amplifying his feelings. That coupled with watching him pin him to a bed was what made his blood burn a little hotter.

When the doctor pressed on Jack—same place Oz had back in the club. He didn’t know it had a special name but he knew where to press and that if it didn’t hurt when there was pressure but a way worse pain when you let go, it usually meant appendix. It’s why he’d done it in the club, it was why he even bothered mentioning his thought on what it was to the doctor.

But whatever. Obviously the doctor knew more. Obviously he had to run his own tests to be sure, but it still pissed him off watching him do it, especially after his arrogance when he’d brought it up in the first place. Not his fault, even if he didn’t intend it. Pride was potent. It was just something about doctors, they had egos that ran almost as high as their student loans. Not that Oz could judge when he was a prideful son of a bitch as well, but of course he was going to. He was going to judge the way this man breathed as long as the demon kept his jealousy and envy running high.

@the-pumpkin-king-lament @tod-mitchell

[the-pumpkin-king-lament]

The surgeon was awful close.

In fact, close enough that Jack noticed a tag on his coat-- a name! He'd been alternating between different epiphets like he was some kind of Greek poet. But Mr. Story-- Dr. Story-- had a name after all.

Tod Mitchell.

Huh. Boring. Jack discarded the information as quickly as he gained it. He amended one of his favorite nicknames: Dr. Boring Story. Hah! Now that was excellent. He opened his mouth to share his cleverness with his doctor friend, but that was when the doctor let go of his side.

The pain sank its teeth deep into him, and refused to let go.

He yelped and writhed. "Fuck ow-- why would you do that?!" Jack hissed. He whimpered, tears in his eyes. He tried to curl up like a shivering animal. "I thought you liked me. Ugh-- oh shit--"

He groaned, lurched, and vomited a second time over the cot.

Very sexy, he thought wryly to himself.

@oswaldxmarks @tod-mitchell

[tod-mitchell]

There was a nurse ready with a pan to catch Jack's vomiting. It barely phased anyone working on Jack. Tod barely noticed it, only frowned at Jack's stats.

"We'll need to do a CT in order to know for sure, but I am rather certain you have appendicitis, Mr. Skellington," Tod diagnosed with a little frown. "You'll need surgery to remove it, but not to worry, it is minimally invasive and laparoscopic. As long as we get to it soon. If it bursts, well--things could get more complicated.

I don't think we're quite there yet and once we have the imaging in about twenty minutes we'll be able to get you into surgery. Have you eaten anything in the last 24 hours? Are you allergic to any medications? Have you had any other surgeries?"

Tod turned to the man with Jack. "He'll be back on his feet in about two days, though he'll be able to leave the hospital a few hours after the surgery as long as everything goes well, so no worries there."

@oswaldxmarks, @the-pumpkin-king-lament

[oswaldxmarks]

Oz didn’t want to be here anymore. He could handle the vomiting, he didn’t care about that.

When had Jack even met this guy? Was it through those stupid letters? Why’d he even do those in the first place, Oz didn’t think he even liked people or writing enough to put in effort for that.

Or maybe Oz didn’t know him all that well after all? Maybe this doctor knew more about him. Maybe they shared intimate details about each other in those letters. Maybe Jack wasn’t being his normal whiny self when he commented on thinking the doctor liked him—maybe he actually did.

Though Dr Mitchell didn’t seem to be paying nearly as much attention to Jack—at least not in the same kind of way. He was doing his job.

It was a bit annoying to hear the doctor bring up appendicitis in that way. Especially after how he reacted to Oz mentioning it in the first place. That was doctors for you.

Twenty minutes for the imaging. Then he’d be in surgery. Oz felt an ache in his own side, a foul taste lingering at the back of his throat. If it hadn’t burst already it would soon. But he couldn’t exactly say that. Nor would the doctor believe him.

“He had half a shot of whiskey like an hour ago,” Oz said, knowing Jack wouldn’t answer any of the questions. “No idea if he’s got allergies to meds—I don’t think he even knows that. He hasn’t been to a doctor since he was like, a kid.” If he’d even gone then.

The doctor does actually turn to him now. “Does he need to be, like, supervised once he leaves?” That was a stupid question, because obviously Jack specifically would be. He could imagine him not following the after-care steps he should if left to his own devices.

“How long will the surgery take?” Oswald asked as his eyes drifted over to Jack, his skin almost oily looking with how much sweat clung to him. Something deep in his chest stirred.

“Are you doing the surgery?”

@the-pumpkin-king-lament @tod-mitchell

[oswaldxmarks]

NAME: Ozriel Marckys SPECIES: Human OCCUPATION: Leader of the Earthbound Shields VIEW OF MAGIC: It is a corrupting and ancient force these dragons and riders have no business touching. It is a force he cannot control, and therefore it is one he’d like to do without. BIOGRAPHY: TW injury, death mention, eye injury

Ozriel was not born a fighter, nor a rider. He was born the son of a lower merchant. He had no strong views on the world until a dragon, bereft upon losing its rider, went on a rampage in his village. It destroyed his father’s mercantile, killing his parents and maiming Ozriel. He lost his right eye to the beast, and when he saw its power first hand, he wanted it.

No dragon ever chose him when he went for hatching days. It was more than a disappointment, it was an affront. How dare one of these creatures take everything from him and give nothing in return? How dare they have this power and not let him touch it as well?

So, if he couldn’t have the power that came from a dragon, he would find his own.

It was easy to gain a following. He’d always been good at speaking, at leading. It was easy to convince some elves to join his cause, as well as others who felt the same sense of entitlement to magic. It was also easy to convince others of the corruption it caused to those who tried to learn it. This new era of dragons and their riders was going on too long. It was time for it to be brought to an end.

The first major attack in the Next Kingdom Over went better than he could have hoped. Fear and chaos began to spread. Ozriel’s order and name brought fear to those in the lands, he held more power than a simple dragon ever could have hoped.

Of course, some were trying to rally for hope. The leader of the Riders was hosting some sort of competition, seemingly uniting the lands and inviting all to Atlantisgard. The Riders had gathered all these magic users and lovers in one place. Perhaps they thought this would be some sort of show of strength or a warning to the Shields. Maybe behind the competition they were preparing for a battle, but that didn’t matter. Because with all those little lambs corralled on an island, Ozriel was planning a slaughter.

[the-pumpkin-king-lament]

So Happy I Could Burst || Jaz

[oswaldxmarks]

It was Jack’s recognition that lingered for longer that made him glad he wasn’t the one hooked up to any monitors. The demon grasped onto that fast, a spider leaping from its nest to devour unsuspecting prey. Whatever Jack’s memory of this man was, he didn’t know. But he could taste the remnants of the feelings that bubbled behind the pain.

Normally, he would have ignored these little feelings. He wouldn’t even bother passing them along to Oswald. But it being Jack and some random doctor? When would he have such an opportunity to mess with Oswald again?

So he made sure he snagged those lustful wisps just so he could feed on his hosts own envy.

The demon kept whispering in his mind as well, planting new little thoughts. Forcing Oswald to take the bait.

In any other situation he would have rolled his eyes at Jack and told him to just answer the question, but right now he didn’t feel like he could speak. His stomach was being squeezed tighter and tighter by this feeling. It was sour and bitter at the back of his throat.

Dr. Mitchell repeated the question, this time directed at Oz. He blinked, trying to force himself out of this state.

“Uh, a few hours? Maybe more? He was acting mopey when he got to work but that’s normal for him. It’s been within the last hour that he’s gotten like, way worse.” He said.

The doctor started to check on Jack more, as was his job, but watching him touch his face did something to Oz. He was still gripping the guardrail of Jack’s bed. He heard the plastic creak. He let go and took a slight step back, crossing his arms.

“He threw up and is extremely sensitive on his right side. I touched him and you would’ve thought I stabbed him with how he reacted.” Oz went on. He looked at the monitor, watching Jack’s blood pressure. “It seemed like appendicitis which is why I made him come here. But I mean, I’m not the doctor so what do I know.”

@the-pumpkin-king-lament @tod-mitchell

[the-pumpkin-king-lament]

It did not start a few hours ago. But Jack found the question difficult anyway, due to the impossibility of time and how it moved (or did not move) for him. Was it a day ago that his side first started to hurt? Two days? Less, more?

It was definitely more than a few hours; Jack knew that for certain.

He cracked open his eyes of his own volition this time (he had not enjoyed the doctor getting all up in his face and flashing that bright light into his eyes-- if he had more energy, he would have hissed and swatted at him comically, like a stray cat).

"It's been hurting since...yesterday. Night? I think. Something like that." He winced and groaned and tried to turn on his side, only for the pain to erupt again and so he whimpered and flopped back, a dead fish.

"It's probably nothing. Just gimme drugs, Mr. Story. The good stuff."

@oswaldxmarks @tod-mitchell

[tod-mitchell]

Great, not only was he dealing with his weird hook up--but also WebMD. Appendicitis was always everyone's first guess, though, that was because it was more common than anything else, especially in an otherwise healthy younger male. There were plenty of other things that stomach pain could be, though: kidney stones, impacted bowel, colitis, cancer, a tear in the stomach lining from an ulcer...

Tod was only vaguely aware of these more intense diagnostics. They were habit more than anything. He was still leaning towards something much less dire. (Though, good shot it'd require surgery.)

Jack's skin was clammy, but at least he was relatively coherent as he started speaking again. The brief relief the coherency brought was almost immediately dashed when Jack said it had been nearly 24 hours since the symptoms had started...

And...considering he was coherent enough to try and wriggle off the bed. Tod's hand shot out to press Jack's shoulder back into the hospital mattress.

"You've gotta sit still if you want the drugs," Tod said placidly, moving his hands down to Jack's stomach, pressing on the different quadrants. "And it's Dr. Story, thank you very much." Jack's abdomen was relatively pliant, which was also good.

When he got to the lower right quadrant, he pressed on McBurney's point, which, despite what one might think--should relieve the pain. That is, of course, until Tod let go and the rebound pain came back twice as badly.

@oswaldxmarks, @the-pumpkin-king-lament

[oswaldxmarks]

Oz wanted to scold Jack for not doing something about this sooner. He’d been hurting since last night? No one the stupid fucking demon was ready to pounce, he’d been marinating in this. The decay of his organs as the infection spread made Oz’s stomach curdle. The demon on the other hand was loving it.

A fly buzzed as it perched on the overhead florescent light.

He was also loving the side of jealousy that was coming with his meal as the doctor—doing his job—pinned Jack down.

It wasn’t that that alone was enough for Oz to get jealous. It was the playful nickname, the recognition between them, the demon amplifying his feelings. That coupled with watching him pin him to a bed was what made his blood burn a little hotter.

When the doctor pressed on Jack—same place Oz had back in the club. He didn’t know it had a special name but he knew where to press and that if it didn’t hurt when there was pressure but a way worse pain when you let go, it usually meant appendix. It’s why he’d done it in the club, it was why he even bothered mentioning his thought on what it was to the doctor.

But whatever. Obviously the doctor knew more. Obviously he had to run his own tests to be sure, but it still pissed him off watching him do it, especially after his arrogance when he’d brought it up in the first place. Not his fault, even if he didn’t intend it. Pride was potent. It was just something about doctors, they had egos that ran almost as high as their student loans. Not that Oz could judge when he was a prideful son of a bitch as well, but of course he was going to. He was going to judge the way this man breathed as long as the demon kept his jealousy and envy running high.

@the-pumpkin-king-lament @tod-mitchell

[the-pumpkin-king-lament]

So Happy I Could Burst || Jaz

[oswaldxmarks]

“You’re not going to die,” Oz told him. “And even if you did I’m not going to eat Zed, I don’t know where the fuck he’s been.” There was also this nagging feeling that he should definitely not agree to eat crow right after telling Jack he wouldn’t die.

It didn’t take long for a doctor to show up— which wasn’t usually good but he wasn’t going to say that to Jack. Oz barely looked up when he felt something grip tight in his stomach.

Feel that charge? That burning memory—

Ozzy squeezed his stomach tighter, a droning chuckle echoing through his head. It was just a brief memory, Dr. Mitchell was professional enough to not let it get to him. But there was a spark there, enough for the

Can you blame him though? I mean look at the guy…

Oswald knew he was trying to get into his head. He was trying to spike his blood pressure. The annoying part was that it was working.

And he’s a doctor? Tough break, kid. Can’t win ‘em all.

Oz gripped the side rail of Jack’s hospital bed, the demon only tightening on his insides as it swallowed down their jealousy. It was almost too easy. Especially to heighten it.

You don’t know that’s what that was. It didn’t matter though. Because the thought was planted, and the demon made it fester, just like Jack’s bursting appendix.

The demon just kept gnawing away in his head. Reminding him that Jack did those stupid ass letters, reminding him that Jack laughed in his face last time he was even remotely close to being vulnerable. There was no proof or evidence that anything happened other than the demons word over Dr. Mitchell’s briefly spiking blood pressure upon seeing Jack.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t know if Jack wanted him to speak for him, and he honestly didn’t want to right now as the feelings continued to squirm and tighten in his gut.

@the-pumpkin-king-lament @tod-mitchell

[the-pumpkin-king-lament]

Jack did not yet open his eyes, and so he didn't see Dr. Mitchell-- or as Jack knew him-- Mr. Story-- or Stuffy -- or simply The Surgeon. But his ears picked up his familiar voice, deja vu prickling at the back of Jack's neck.

Still, he was delirious from pain and fever and was half-convinced this entire episode was one of his nightmares. It followed a particular dream logic that one of Jack's most recent sexcapades would manifest in the unconscious anyway.

So Jack barely reacted to Tod Mitchell.

Yet.

"Why do you wanna know, huh? Trying to figure out--" Jack winced, then hissed at another wave of pain, "-- my weaknesses?"

If Zed were here, he'd probably say something like, You dumbass, he is a doctor. It's his JOB!

He finally cracked open an eye, staring up into Tod Mitchell's blurry figure. "Hey," he said. And then he cracked a tired, crazed smile. "I remember you."

@oswaldxmarks @tod-mitchell

[tod-mitchell]

Great.

Tod closed his eyes for a second and then opened them again.

"Can you describe your pain?" Tod repeated, patiently. Jack wasn't the first difficult patient he'd handled. And it wasn't that much of a shock, considering Jack's...entire personality. "The faster we can get you a preliminary diagnosis, the faster I can give you something for the pain and to bring your fever down."

His gaze glanced towards the stats on the monitor. He was tachycardic. His blood pressure was high, hadn't spiked to concerning levels. Yet.

Turning to Jack's companion, who Tod assumed he'd come in with, Tod raised his eyebrows.

"Same questions to you: do you know when this started?"

As he spoke, Tod gently lifted Jack's eyelids to check his dilation response: normal. There wasn't any yellow, either, which was a good sign.

@oswaldxmarks, @the-pumpkin-king-lament

[oswaldxmarks]

It was Jack’s recognition that lingered for longer that made him glad he wasn’t the one hooked up to any monitors. The demon grasped onto that fast, a spider leaping from its nest to devour unsuspecting prey. Whatever Jack’s memory of this man was, he didn’t know. But he could taste the remnants of the feelings that bubbled behind the pain.

Normally, he would have ignored these little feelings. He wouldn’t even bother passing them along to Oswald. But it being Jack and some random doctor? When would he have such an opportunity to mess with Oswald again?

So he made sure he snagged those lustful wisps just so he could feed on his hosts own envy.

The demon kept whispering in his mind as well, planting new little thoughts. Forcing Oswald to take the bait.

In any other situation he would have rolled his eyes at Jack and told him to just answer the question, but right now he didn’t feel like he could speak. His stomach was being squeezed tighter and tighter by this feeling. It was sour and bitter at the back of his throat.

Dr. Mitchell repeated the question, this time directed at Oz. He blinked, trying to force himself out of this state.

“Uh, a few hours? Maybe more? He was acting mopey when he got to work but that’s normal for him. It’s been within the last hour that he’s gotten like, way worse.” He said.

The doctor started to check on Jack more, as was his job, but watching him touch his face did something to Oz. He was still gripping the guardrail of Jack’s bed. He heard the plastic creak. He let go and took a slight step back, crossing his arms.

“He threw up and is extremely sensitive on his right side. I touched him and you would’ve thought I stabbed him with how he reacted.” Oz went on. He looked at the monitor, watching Jack’s blood pressure. “It seemed like appendicitis which is why I made him come here. But I mean, I’m not the doctor so what do I know.”

@the-pumpkin-king-lament @tod-mitchell

[the-pumpkin-king-lament]

So Happy I Could Burst || Jaz

[oswaldxmarks]

Oz did his best to keep his eyes on the road as he drove to the hospital. But every time Jack would shift or whimper he would glance his way.

He knew, logically, that in the short amount of time it took to get to the hospital Jack wasn’t going to die in the passenger seat. One part of him wondered if the car would still work if Jack died, or would all the things he created turn back to dust?

Stop thinking about Jack dying, he scolded himself. Like he'd manifest it if he thought about to too much.

Finally, they pulled up to the hospital, definitely in a spot they weren't supposed to park, but it didn't matter. He'd get Jack to mutter the deactivation word or whatever to turn it back to a toy.

Getting out, he was careful to open the door since Jack was leaning against it, reaching in and removing his seatbelt before helping him out of the car.

"Fuckin' hell, man, you could help a little," he muttered as he hoisted Jack's limp body up against him so he could drag him along to the doors.

"If I was gonna leave you to die, I would've let the clown take care of it," he joked, rolling his eyes as Jack's laugh turned into another cry. Thankfully though, the high pitched noise had eyes on them as soon as they entered the emergency room--or whatever it was called in the UK, Oz couldn't be bothered to remember.

An intake nurse walked up, looking them both over.

"He's got a high fever and extreme pain on his right side," Oz explained. "He's also nauseous and threw up. But he says he's fine, so if you think its safe to send him on his way..." He was mostly teasing Jack, but the nurse didn't seem to think it was funny at all.

"No," the nurse said flatly before calling out for a wheelchair to take Jack back.

@the-pumpkin-king-lament

[the-pumpkin-king-lament]

Ah yes, Pierrot-- now that was a tantalizing idea, Jack imagining his untimely death all those months ago now in a rosy, tender light, if it meant he could stop feeling like a piece of gum, stuck on the bottom of a shoe, dragged against the concrete. Perhaps he had been wrong to be frightened. Death could be that grand new adventure that poets wrote about or--

"Ah, ah, ah." Jack's morose pondering was interrupted by another wave of pain in his side. It felt like his organs were gurgling and choking on some kind of acidic substance.

Oz and the nurse hurried him along. And then he was once again plopped down, only this time he lay against a clean cot, crinkly paper underneath him.

Jack cracked an eye open to stare up into too-bright lights. It made his head pound, so he closed his eyes again and scrunched up his face.

"Oz...if I die," Jack croaked. "You can have custody of Limitless." A beat. "Zed too, but you might just wanna cook the motherfucker. I always thought he might taste like chicken."

He heard footsteps approaching. The sound was heightened, just like the rest of his senses.

@oswaldxmarks @tod-mitchell

[tod-mitchell]

"We just got a walk in," Vixey informed Tod, who was just coming out of another patient's room.

He hit the automatic hand sanitizer with a sigh. It was gonna be one of those days, wasn't it?

"Right. What's the situation?"

"Fever, vomiting, disorientation, localized right sided pain." Vixey raised her eyebrows.

"Great." Well, at least that was most likely a simple fix. And not someone in danger of imminently dying. Unless it was ruptured. Tod crossed the hall, following on Vixey's heels.

"Mr. Marks, Mr. Skellington, this is Dr. Mitchell."

Well fuck.

Tod was starting to miss London and his anonymous patients. Or he just needed to stop having ill-advised hook ups. He only missed a beat before he moved to Jack's side.

"When did your symptoms start, Mr. Skellington? And can you describe the pain?"

@oswaldxmarks, @the-pumpkin-king-lament

[oswaldxmarks]

“You’re not going to die,” Oz told him. “And even if you did I’m not going to eat Zed, I don’t know where the fuck he’s been.” There was also this nagging feeling that he should definitely not agree to eat crow right after telling Jack he wouldn’t die.

It didn’t take long for a doctor to show up— which wasn’t usually good but he wasn’t going to say that to Jack. Oz barely looked up when he felt something grip tight in his stomach.

Feel that charge? That burning memory—

Ozzy squeezed his stomach tighter, a droning chuckle echoing through his head. It was just a brief memory, Dr. Mitchell was professional enough to not let it get to him. But there was a spark there, enough for the

Can you blame him though? I mean look at the guy…

Oswald knew he was trying to get into his head. He was trying to spike his blood pressure. The annoying part was that it was working.

And he’s a doctor? Tough break, kid. Can’t win ‘em all.

Oz gripped the side rail of Jack’s hospital bed, the demon only tightening on his insides as it swallowed down their jealousy. It was almost too easy. Especially to heighten it.

You don’t know that’s what that was. It didn’t matter though. Because the thought was planted, and the demon made it fester, just like Jack’s bursting appendix.

The demon just kept gnawing away in his head. Reminding him that Jack did those stupid ass letters, reminding him that Jack laughed in his face last time he was even remotely close to being vulnerable. There was no proof or evidence that anything happened other than the demons word over Dr. Mitchell’s briefly spiking blood pressure upon seeing Jack.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t know if Jack wanted him to speak for him, and he honestly didn’t want to right now as the feelings continued to squirm and tighten in his gut.

@the-pumpkin-king-lament @tod-mitchell

[the-pumpkin-king-lament]

So Happy I Could Burst || Jaz

[the-pumpkin-king-lament]

As soon as Jack laid back in the car, he blacked out.

Okay, dramatic and untrue: he remained conscious. But he closed his eyes as the pain's throbbing grew louder than Oz's voice. Perhaps if he had focused, he might have heard Oz's entreaty to trust him, trust him. Those words were a mere echo, like someone had shouted down into a well.

Jack was at the bottom of that well.

Later, he would dream of Oz's voice, though, and those words like a spell-- full of power, full of danger.

Trust me. Trust me.

It was such a funny thing to say, considering they no longer had any choice but to do exactly that. They knew too much about each other. Yet, it would still haunt him in his sleep.

For now, Jack was listening to his own heartbeat. It was too loud.

So it felt like no time when they got to the hospital. His eyes peeled open when he felt Oz's hands again, pulling him out of the car. He mewled like a baby kitten. "Owwwww ow ow ow ow, why," he whined, stumbling toward the doors. "Just leave me to die, then," he moaned dramatically. "Let it finally end!"

He laughed at himself then-- one sharp laugh that transformed into a high-pitched yelp. "Ow," he said again.

@oswaldxmarks

[oswaldxmarks]

Oz did his best to keep his eyes on the road as he drove to the hospital. But every time Jack would shift or whimper he would glance his way.

He knew, logically, that in the short amount of time it took to get to the hospital Jack wasn’t going to die in the passenger seat. One part of him wondered if the car would still work if Jack died, or would all the things he created turn back to dust?

Stop thinking about Jack dying, he scolded himself. Like he'd manifest it if he thought about to too much.

Finally, they pulled up to the hospital, definitely in a spot they weren't supposed to park, but it didn't matter. He'd get Jack to mutter the deactivation word or whatever to turn it back to a toy.

Getting out, he was careful to open the door since Jack was leaning against it, reaching in and removing his seatbelt before helping him out of the car.

"Fuckin' hell, man, you could help a little," he muttered as he hoisted Jack's limp body up against him so he could drag him along to the doors.

"If I was gonna leave you to die, I would've let the clown take care of it," he joked, rolling his eyes as Jack's laugh turned into another cry. Thankfully though, the high pitched noise had eyes on them as soon as they entered the emergency room--or whatever it was called in the UK, Oz couldn't be bothered to remember.

An intake nurse walked up, looking them both over.

"He's got a high fever and extreme pain on his right side," Oz explained. "He's also nauseous and threw up. But he says he's fine, so if you think its safe to send him on his way..." He was mostly teasing Jack, but the nurse didn't seem to think it was funny at all.

"No," the nurse said flatly before calling out for a wheelchair to take Jack back.

@the-pumpkin-king-lament

[oswaldxmarks]

My Circus, My Monkeys || Boozy

[boointhenight]

Bonding experience? Maybe. She wasn't sure if that was really what it was. It wasn't like Basil was going to be around for long, and she wasn't the type to make connections. Not real ones. People like Hercules and Oz were the exception, not the rule, and that only became more true the older she got.

Partially because she rarely tried these days. She had her small circle and her work. Wasn't that good enough? Someone like Basil was fun for the short term but in the long term he was...complicated.

Yes, she was absolutely ignoring her own attraction to a mystery.

"Not really a dump. More like an excavation. But, kinda interesting I guess. I don't know. I'll probably see him again at some point. I mean, it is Swynlake. Hard to get away from people."

@oswaldxmarks

[oswaldxmarks]

"Well, hey, as long as it doesn't make the hookups worse, right?" Oz shrugged. Or maybe it was more than that now. Maybe Boo cared about this guy now that she knew all his deep dark secrets.

"Yeah, it's definitely hard to get away from anyone around here. How've you lived here so long without feeling like everyone knows all of your business? Or have you just grown to accept that people might?" he asked. Not because he wanted to turn the conversation back to him, but because he did need to know how much he should worry now that there was someone who wasn't a demon who knew about the demon. Should he brace himself for this to become public or just trust in his friend to not let it slip?

@boointhenight

[the-pumpkin-king-lament]

So Happy I Could Burst || Jaz

[the-pumpkin-king-lament]

He felt better-- for about two seconds. Or maybe it was longer or shorter. He no longer felt time in the same way, especially as the pain rushed back, lashing up and down his side.

At this point, he was too exhausted to argue as Oz grabbed him and hauled him up. He opened his mouth like he was gonna. It's cool, I can sleep it off. Listen, just let me escape-- back to my golden kingdom. Everything is fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine--

Then Oz poked him.

Jack screeched. He almost fell to the ground, only stopped by Oz himself. At least the sharp pain faded fast back to the drum-like throb that had been following him for roughly twenty-four hours now.

He gave Oz a wet, wounded look, like a kicked dog. "That was mean," he croaked. "But whatever. If you wanna waste your time..." he winced with every step they took. "Just watch. The hospital's not gonna find anything wrong with me."

Or maybe they'd find everything wrong with him. Jack had no clue, since he'd never experienced mundus medicine before. What if this exposed him?

He was in too much pain to care at this point, just let Oz struggle him up the stairs and out of the club. Once they got outside, Jack whimpered while getting the Pumpkin-mobile out of his pocket and saying the magic word to trigger the toy car into springing into full size.

@oswaldxmarks

[oswaldxmarks]

Jack's scream was loud, but Oz just held him up, dragging him along.

"Yeah, because it was normal that that hurt that much," Oz rolled his eyes. "Lemme waste my time, then. And if this is just me wasting my time you can say 'I told you so' all you fuckin' want."

It was a pain, but finally he dragged Jack out to the street.

As the car sprang to size, Oz pulled open the passenger door and deposited Jack in the seat.

He put his seatbelt on because last thing he needed was Jack getting cold feet and trying to barrel roll out of the moving vehicle.

"You okay?" Oz asked as he got himself into the driver's seat, looking at the almost greenish pallor spreading across Jack's face. He looked awful, worse than he'd ever seen him really. "I know you think this is normal for you but... just trust me like, a little bit, okay? Trust me, I'm not one to usually jump right to the hospital; drinking it off is usually my medication of choice too but this... I don't think this is that kind of thing, okay?"

He started the car, doing his best to not speed to the hospital, though it did seem like the car just wanted to go fast no matter how much pressure he put on the gas. Oz was also quick to realize this was his first time driving since moving to the UK, so that was its own sort of adjustment too.

It didn't matter though, he would've walked Jack there. Especially as the demon in the back of his throat kept describing the rot and bacteria that was slowly infecting Jack's insides, like it was a delicious feast it couldn't wait to taste.

@the-pumpkin-king-lament