Sebastian Handsel (thedoctorisodd) wrote in horror_story, @ 2013-11-01 12:45:00 |
|
|||
He did this every holiday. One would think that he didn't have friends, but that couldn't be further than the truth. In reality, it was the fourth fruit platter he'd ordered from the deli that month. There'd been his postman's costume party, the work office party, the neighborhood pot-luck, and now this, which Sebastian had arranged. The self-help meetings at The Red Door had been largely his idea. A safe, judgment-free zone for the less-than-normal. Those like himself, and the less fortunate than himself. And there were so many less fortunate than himself, truly! Sebastian had his issues, no denying that, but for the most part he considered himself incredibly well-adjusted. Surprisingly so, even!
Granted, it had taken a lot of effort to get that way. Not everyone was lucky enough to land a successful career. He felt genuinely sorry for those with specific restrictions on their time. To not be able to go out in the daylight, or during certain times of the lunar cycle... that was a terrible limitation and made earning a living wage rather difficult, let alone socialization on top of work. Sebastian suffered no such consequences. The most he ever had to do was alter his wardrobe to disguise a compromising tear or sagging in his skin, which could generally be fixed by a quick visit to the surgeon, and even if not... he would eventually form a new one. His dietary restrictions weren't particularly easy to cater to, but it wasn't so bad. He hadn't been willing to raise animals on his own, and didn't really see a career in midwifery for himself, so he had to do the best he could. Luckily, he could afford assistance.
Which was where the Red Door came in. Assistance was a good euphemism for all the services that the establishment provided. Sebastian also liked necessities. He was grateful to the business, and thought it was important to give back to a community that he appreciated being a member of, insomuch as he could. Running the meetings in his spare time was one of his ways of doing that. Turning one such group meeting into a seasonally appropriate holiday get-together was just for fun. 'Tis the season, and all that. Sebastian paid for use of the conference room for a block of time as he always did on Sundays, and had invited all of the regular clients -- or associates -- he had contact information for, or happened to see in passing, as well as any of the employees he'd happened across in the last month or so. He also left the door propped open, which he didn't normally do during the group meetings (safe haven and all that), so that people could wander by.
Then it was just a matter of setting out the fruit platter and bowls of chips and candy. His costume that year was easy; he was dressed as a surgeon in full scrubs, gloves, mask, and cap. There'd been a fake brain to go with the outfit, to make himself a brain surgeon, specifically, but he'd left it at home by accident. Accessories certainly weren't his forte. Neither were remembering to bring drinks... luckily, the brothel did have a bar. He doubted they'd mind glass migration so long as nobody left the premises.
Despite it being Halloween night, there was no point at which he worried that nobody would show up, and that he was wasting his time and efforts. Not all of the people who frequented The Red Door, either to offer services or request them, were as well-adjusted as he was. Not all of them had other places to be, or else they wouldn't be there. Sebastian really felt he owed it to them to help wherever he could, even if that night his help amounted mostly to a fruit platter and a friendly ear.
After all, he wasn't obligated to perform miracles.