Gregory House, MD (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rubikscomplex) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
snowblindrpg2016-01-20 05:11 pm
rubikscomplex) wrote in snowblindrpg2016-01-20 05:11 pm
[network|video] @hotstud_xxx; NIGHT 79/DAY 80 [open] [cw: allusions to death/horror/injury]
Night 079
[House wakes with a gasp inside his body bag, panics, and claws the thing open, struggling wildly as his mind is filled with images of plague doctors and a monster machine. The memory is painted red with blood, and he can feel his heart pounding again, pumping as he sits up to see absolutely nothing. The room he's in - god, he hopes it's the hospital morgue... or no. No, he really hopes it isn't the hospital morgue. Wherever he is, it's either pitch black or he's gone blind after falling unconscious... screaming and choking on his own blood. A cold sweat breaks over his entire body.
It's a moment of processing that before he swings his legs over the side of the slab he's on and slides off carefully so that he can shove the body bag the rest of the way off. It's only then that it occurs to him that his leg has not hurt the slightest bit through his thrashing or movement.
He puts his weight on it, and it holds. When his hand moves down tentatively to feel over his jeans where there should be a familiar divot, a complete absence of muscle, there's nothing. It's whole. It's healed. He's healed.
And he laughs, puts his hand against the nearby metal wall and takes a step, then another. He's walking - walking, not limping - and then he's jogging, and then he's running, fingers against the wall as he makes a circuit until he slams into the slab and collapses over it, wheezing, laughing, tears and a choking sob only just held down. What the actual hell? He lies there until the hysteria dies down, knowing he's panicking and confused, but he can walk. He can walk!
The only thing that would make this better - he reaches into his pocket, but there isn't the familiar pill bottle there. It's with Haurchefant. Goddamnit! His fingers find the tablet, clumsily feel over it, but before he turns it on, he stops.
If he's cured, Haurchefant might give him his meds, but what about the rest? So much of this had been to get Clayton to give them back. People are going to just start taking them if they think he doesn't need them anymore. And he does need them. The pain isn't there, but it could come back. It almost certainly will come back. He can't risk other people having his drugs.
He's going to have to fake it. Fake the goddamn limp. House could cry. Well, isn't this perfect? Healed and he's going to have to keep pretending he's a cripple... at least until he can get out on his own. The door he'd passed is locked, so that means it's night. He'll need to wait until morning. Well, then. That gives him plenty of time to jog, to enjoy and to find some suitable replacement 'cane.']
Morning 080 - Open to All
[House is up the stairwell and out into the chapel area when he tries to make a call out. Never having used the audio commands for the tablet and not actually being able to see to select something private from the menu, his efforts to make the message private don't quite work out. This isn't the morgue. He knows that much now. He still doesn't know where it is, but the video feed when it comes on will show pews and stained glass. There's an intense need to get out and for once, House isn't going to ignore that.]
Contacting Haurchefant Greystone and Clayton Epps. So... lesson of the day: don't sleep in the morgue. That was exciting. Really hoping you guys got the full video feed on whatever the hell that thing was. Guessing it was the NIMA... and plague doctors? More robots? They looked human, but hell if I know. No idea how long I've been 'dead,' but I can't see my tablet, either. Or anything. I'm guessing that's temporary, but someone wanna help the blind cripple find a cane and get out of here? I could really use my meds. And food. Anything you could do to, y'know, help. That'd be great.
[House wakes with a gasp inside his body bag, panics, and claws the thing open, struggling wildly as his mind is filled with images of plague doctors and a monster machine. The memory is painted red with blood, and he can feel his heart pounding again, pumping as he sits up to see absolutely nothing. The room he's in - god, he hopes it's the hospital morgue... or no. No, he really hopes it isn't the hospital morgue. Wherever he is, it's either pitch black or he's gone blind after falling unconscious... screaming and choking on his own blood. A cold sweat breaks over his entire body.
It's a moment of processing that before he swings his legs over the side of the slab he's on and slides off carefully so that he can shove the body bag the rest of the way off. It's only then that it occurs to him that his leg has not hurt the slightest bit through his thrashing or movement.
He puts his weight on it, and it holds. When his hand moves down tentatively to feel over his jeans where there should be a familiar divot, a complete absence of muscle, there's nothing. It's whole. It's healed. He's healed.
And he laughs, puts his hand against the nearby metal wall and takes a step, then another. He's walking - walking, not limping - and then he's jogging, and then he's running, fingers against the wall as he makes a circuit until he slams into the slab and collapses over it, wheezing, laughing, tears and a choking sob only just held down. What the actual hell? He lies there until the hysteria dies down, knowing he's panicking and confused, but he can walk. He can walk!
The only thing that would make this better - he reaches into his pocket, but there isn't the familiar pill bottle there. It's with Haurchefant. Goddamnit! His fingers find the tablet, clumsily feel over it, but before he turns it on, he stops.
If he's cured, Haurchefant might give him his meds, but what about the rest? So much of this had been to get Clayton to give them back. People are going to just start taking them if they think he doesn't need them anymore. And he does need them. The pain isn't there, but it could come back. It almost certainly will come back. He can't risk other people having his drugs.
He's going to have to fake it. Fake the goddamn limp. House could cry. Well, isn't this perfect? Healed and he's going to have to keep pretending he's a cripple... at least until he can get out on his own. The door he'd passed is locked, so that means it's night. He'll need to wait until morning. Well, then. That gives him plenty of time to jog, to enjoy and to find some suitable replacement 'cane.']
Morning 080 - Open to All
[House is up the stairwell and out into the chapel area when he tries to make a call out. Never having used the audio commands for the tablet and not actually being able to see to select something private from the menu, his efforts to make the message private don't quite work out. This isn't the morgue. He knows that much now. He still doesn't know where it is, but the video feed when it comes on will show pews and stained glass. There's an intense need to get out and for once, House isn't going to ignore that.]
Contacting Haurchefant Greystone and Clayton Epps. So... lesson of the day: don't sleep in the morgue. That was exciting. Really hoping you guys got the full video feed on whatever the hell that thing was. Guessing it was the NIMA... and plague doctors? More robots? They looked human, but hell if I know. No idea how long I've been 'dead,' but I can't see my tablet, either. Or anything. I'm guessing that's temporary, but someone wanna help the blind cripple find a cane and get out of here? I could really use my meds. And food. Anything you could do to, y'know, help. That'd be great.
no subject
What do you think, Mrs. Miyagi? I feel around blindly. I don't really have a lot of time at the moment, though. The sense of impending doom in this place, the blizzard outside that I'm going to have to limp through... finding my inner balance and peace in the darkness isn't high on the priority list.
no subject
[ And another reference she has no clue about and ignores. ]
This has nothing to do with finding inner peace; this has to do with survival! [ But he's right, he doesn't have a lot of time. ] Then, think you can find the "Video" function and turn this thing around so I can see where you're going and guide you?
no subject
I've already got a guide dog offer from Tim, but no cane. You see anything I could use.
[He's really glad he doesn't actually need one anymore, but he figures it doesn't hurt to establish the pattern with everyone and just make sure the others aren't as blind as he is.]
no subject
The sound she makes at first though, is thoughtful as she scans the scene before her.
Then a disappointed noise. ]
No. I don't. I haven't even been to that building, so I don't know if there's anything outside you can use.
[ Too bad she can't reach him. Her 2x4 would be perfect. ]
no subject
I've been told there's a graveyard. Somehow I don't think the skeletons are going to be crazy about digging themselves up to offer me a few femurs I can tie together.
[There's a slight pause.]
That'd be a pretty sick cane, though.
no subject
You don't mean sick as in "sick" do you?
[ Her tone is wry, and there's some eye-rolling going on on her end. Men! ]
But I agree, I don't think doing that would be a good idea. Considering what we've seen here. [ Besides, do they really know if there are skeletons there? Considering everything they've seen and heard, who knows? ]
Although, since there are things left behind all over the place... Could there be a shovel?
no subject
[ Like him. Look at how in-tune with the young people he is. ]
And I was more sort of joking. Ha. Ha. If it's a blizzard out there, I'll just hobble. Probably less time than searching, and it wouldn't be the first time. Guess I'll just have to hope the monsters leave me alone what with that fresh from death scent.
no subject
[ He's not in tune with her. Myabevhe should learn the Old Language of her world. ]
Just be careful, okay? Hobbling out there doesn't sound like a good idea--but you really have no choice.
[ You may be a jerk, Doc, but she cares. ]
no subject
[ No one should live without the joys of Freddie Mercury. ]
Talk to you later.
[ And with that, he'll turn his attention to Masky!Tim and his directions out of the building. ]