snowblindrpg | [log] Cat Scratch Fever [closed]

[Against seemingly all odds, House has found shelter before lockdown. Shutting Masky off and going with the ninja chick had been annoying, but worth it for more coherent direction than the creepy monotone voice could offer. A subsequent call to Quark has netted the doctor a half-supply of rations and a splintered piece of wood he can pretend is a walking stick.

Tremors and dizziness have already started, and the cravings for Vicodin are intense at this point. It's been more than 24 hours. He wants his meds. More than that, he needs them. He's lying on the bed in the bedroom when he hears the front door open.]

If you're a monster, you're going to have to come in here to kill me. I'm not moving. [A very small part of him hopes it's a monster so that he can die and get put back somewhere closer to Haurchefant or Clayton.]

[Leon rarely rejects a job and he tends to move to rescue others when necessary, he lives as guardian in his city- but to be honest he cringed a bit when Clayton asked him and Ginger to find House. The man nodded, packed his stuff in the morning and moved with his companion to reach the building he was supposed to but- it wasn't like he was so eager to accompany him.

When they arrive he slams the door open, takes a good look around to make sure no monsters is immediately there and keeps the door open until the young blond woman is inside. The blizzard made it almost impossible for them to travel too fast and Leon is freezing, maybe he could try to get some stuffing from one of the couches and ask Ginger to place it inside his leather pants to save some warmt but- priorities! He raises his tablet to make some light insideand starts looking around... being almost relieved when he hears an human voice.]

I'm sorry, Limpy- [That's what you get for calling him scarface] -if you're planning to die again you'll have to walk outside, I'm not in the mood to lift anyone.

House!

[Ginger starts to greet him cheerfully when she enters with Leon, because, well, it's what she does. Even if he definitely doesn't want to have to deal with it right now or ever. But especially not right now, recovered from death and blinded and withdrawing. She doesn't get any farther, however, because she looks at Leon aghast when he says the things that he does. Those awful, awful things!]

Leon, honey, shame on you, picking on him like that. Be nice!

[She shakes her head in disappointment! Really, she doesn't look stern at all because she doesn't do the whole stern thing, but she's trying. She addresses House next, going farther into the room.]

Do you need water? Anything?

[If Leon's voice is unwelcome, Ginger's is doubly so. House considers just pulling the covers up on the bed and over himself until they go away, but that likely won't work.]

Did Epps send you with my meds? Because that's the only thing I need right now.

[Entering into the bedroom will bring the sight of one Gregory House looking rather sick and miserable, but surprisingly clean and well-shaved (only a five o'clock shadow). Those won't last very long, but whatever had revived him has clearly hosed him down and taken care of some neglected grooming.

[Ginger's whole body droops sadly at House's snappy statement. Not because of the tone, but because she genuinely feels bad that she can't produce his medication out of the sky for him. He looks so sick and awful! She's not a doctor, but she wishes she was. Maybe then she could cure him like POW.]

No, I'm sorry. We were already in the area, so he asked us to come help you get back to the clinic safely.

[Bright sides? Bright sides!]

We'll get you back to your medicine as quickly as we can!

Great, just what I needed. Platitudes.

[He should probably be nicer. He might have been if they'd had what he wanted.]

There's food in the cupboard if you want it. Cat food or rations.

[Maybe they'll leave him alone if they go eat.]

You can come with us, guided, and get your meds when we reach the clinic or sit here and complain.

[There's no need to be nice, is it? Leon isn't even going to try to be nice. ]

Oh, Ginger. [He pauses for a moment.] He calls me Scarface, I call him Limpy, that's how we show each other our affection...

Talking about food, you hungry? [He's not trying to please the other, still... he's supposed to keep House alive.]

[Sometime before lockdown, sometime after Ginger and Leon have arrived, there's a sudden scratching, scuffling, screeching sound as sharp nails are taken to the glass of the bedroom window. Outside in the swirl of snow, there are three monsters that may look strikingly familiar to each of the individual occupants of the house.

Someone will need to jump forward to hold the window down and keep their friends out. At least the monsters seem to be tracking the movements and location inside of the occupants and trying to get at them through the closest means possible rather than the most efficient.]

How many are there?

[Even blind, House has a good idea of what's happening. He doesn't need to ask what's going on. He also has absolutely no desire to deal with this.]

[As she does, Ginger's gotten comfortable trying to puzzle out how to take the mismatched fabric she and Leon have found and turn them into actual wearable pieces of clothing. Or how to make use of as much of it as possible to give things to the biggest number of people. Things are tricky!

When the nails-on-glass pierces the air, it's probably the fastest Ginger has ever gotten to her feet and dropped her sewing. The window is just starting to lift as she reaches it and slams it back down with all the strength she can muster. Shadows shift and move in the gloom outside. Through the frost, at first she can't make them out. But she can count, at least.]

Three, there's...

[Whatever she was planning on saying turns into a choke as the thought sputters to an abrupt halt. One of the scrabbling monsters presses itself up against the glass, as if it senses Ginger specifically and is trying to make itself known.

Ginger would have been terrified no matter what. She's not good at this whole monster thing. Even having only run into one so far, she's been trying to forget it. The thing was terrible, disgusting, horrible. There's no way she could have imagined something worse. But this is much, much worse.

Ginger feels a scream rising in her throat, like a balloon about to burst out of her skin, ripping her to pieces--but that's not what comes out. Somehow, all that squeaks its way out is a whimper.]

Emma?

[Because it's her sister--it's Emmaline--it's Emma. But she's deathly, her skin gray and sunken, her eyes melting down her face and foam spilling endlessly from a dislocated jaw. Her similarly blonde hair clinging lifeless and wet to shoulders jutted awkwardly with the pearly white shards of broken bone poking in unnatural angles.

And it wheezes at her, a wet gurgling wheeze, a noise that sounds almost desperate and pained. Ginger can hear it acutely above the whipping of wind and snow.

hhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAA...

Ginger stumbles backward away from the window, her hands whipping up to cover her mouth, holding back emotions she's never felt before, feelings she can't describe, and so much disgust, so much sick. But then the monster-that-looks-like-Emma starts to open the window again, so Ginger forces herself to slam it back shut, holding it as best as she can. She closes her eyes so she doesn't have to stare at it, hoping please oh please for lockdown to take over for her. She's not strong enough to hold them for long.]

Edited (editing so we don't have to worry about Leon) 2016-02-04 04:35 (UTC)

[The whimper with a name attached to it doesn't bode well. House has heard enough about people seeing things familiar from home to know Ginger's going to be a useless mess very shortly. He hasn't seen anything and is already feeling like death warmed over. What's a little more from the monster effects? He'd really rather not die just as soon as he's revived.

That thought in mind, the doctor rolls over on the bed and all but drops off of it. He's mindful of the fact - even in the haze right now - that he needs to keep up the ruse with his leg and drags himself over toward the sound of Ginger's voice rather than pushing himself up and lunging properly. It's a few seconds of blind searching, likely prodding her at least once by accident, before his hand finds the window. He adds his own strength to hers and, surprisingly, perhaps, offers words of encouragement in his best bedside manner voice. He really doesn't want to die.]

It's almost lockdown, Ginger. I need you to keep holding. Whatever that is out there, it's not Emma, okay?

Edited 2016-02-04 16:20 (UTC)

[Surprisingly? Definitely. Well, he had been nice to her when they met, but since she's been here it's like talking to a whole different person. Ginger, of course, has been wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt. He needs his medicine. He's sick. Of course he'd be a bit cranky. She's also, of course, completely out of the loop with the whole medicine thing...but what information she's getting makes it seem pretty simple. House died and woke up without it. Right? That's all there is to it. Super innocent!

In any case, in light of his mood the whole evening, and maybe because she's been getting a bit of sass from some other people, too, she's not expecting him to say anything kind. Or help. And this is both of those things. Sure, it's in all of their best interests for the window to stay shut, but that doesn't make his words have any less of an impact on her ears.

Ginger takes a deep breath, forcing herself to crack open her eyes so she can look at House. Remembering that he wouldn't be able to see her nod, she makes herself give him a verbal response.]

Okay.

[The small, one-word sentence isn't a terribly convincing response. She knows she wants that sentiment to be true. But how can there be something out there that looks so much like her? It shouldn't be possible. And it's so cruel. Convincing doesn't matter though. What matters is that Ginger doesn't stop holding, even if her arms are shaking. At least with House's help, it doesnt' feel like such an uphill battle.]

I won't let go.

[But the nails scratch at the window, persistent and so close it's a struggle not to let her eyes back onto it.]

Good. Focus on me, Ginger. Tell me what you've been doing. Sewing? What are you making?

[Pointless small talk is only pointless when he's not trying to distract someone from completely freaking out on him. It's not going to stop her answer from being mind-numbing, but he'll tolerate it for the moment.]

[This is helping. For as brief of a time as it may last. And Ginger, of course, is the type of person who would fall easily for the bedside manner he's faking even if it was a good day and she wasn't having an internal meltdown.]

I was making you some socks, like I said I would when we met. Leon and I found a decent amount of fabric the other day.

[Her fingers hurt. She curls them up, pressing the butt of her palms more harshly into the windowsill.]

I thought you could use something since I can't give you your medicine right now, even though I know that's what you really need and this won't make you feel much better.

[House resists the temptation to roll his eyes and ask her 'Really?' because if she thinks socks are going to help, she's a moron. No, scratch that. She's even more of a moron than he thought she was. At least she realizes it's not really going to help. That just makes it a sentimental gesture.

He can't stand sentiment. But all of that is suppressed.]

I don't usually get gifts... Where'd you get the fabric?

Edited 2016-02-06 06:03 (UTC)

[Being stuck in the same house for more than three days straight is beginning to weigh on the minds of the people trapped inside. They're waiting for one last person before heading west, though. Leon and Ginger most likely because they're decent human beings. House because he knows Clayton will make a beeline for his 'bestest buddy' and that means the meds get here faster.

When Enoch arrives, he'll find the members of this ragtag trio aren't entirely prepared to go. It will likely take them a few minutes to leave. Perhaps he'd like to grab some of the rations out of the cabinet while he's here? Or consider the smashed furniture?]

((ooc: We can treat this as a mingle for either meeting up with Enoch or arriving at Building 87 in the evening!))

[House is probably the least prepared to move in spite of having the least to pull together and the greatest impetus to be on their way. He can be found slumped in the bathroom near the toilet, occasionally throwing up what little water he tries to drink from a sippy cup he's found in the house. His face is pale, his eyes are red-rimmed and sunken with shadows, and his skin is clammy. He looks about like death warmed over, in short.]

Are we leaving, yet?

[He hadn't known how badly off House was. He had no frame of reference, after all, no way to even begin to understand what his withdrawal looked like.

He hasn't grabbed anything here, and likely won't. Especially not when he sees the state House's in.]

Yes, soon. [He's all concern as he kneels by House's side, as if his presence alone could possibly help him. He doesn't really have anything that could be of use...] Soon, once the others are ready. I could help you...

Help me what?

[House isn't terribly in the mood for compassion that's only purpose is to look concerned and fret. He's had enough of that over the past three days from Ginger to last a lifetime.]

Got any meds on you? That's the only thing that's going to help this.

...to stand. To move.

[He'd trailed off in the first place because he knew he was helpless. Completely and utterly helpless. This was about all he could possibly do. But he had to do it. Clayton had expected House to somehow get to him on his own, for some unfathomable reason (Enoch blamed the stress). So he would help him.]

I have none, but I can help you to it.

Call Epps and tell him to come meet us halfway. I'm not standing up or moving until the other two are ready.

[His hunger doesn't bother him as much as it might someone else. His body is adjusted to going without. But his body did not know what to do with this lack of sunlight, aching in protest all the way there as it has taken to doing more and more often.

He slumps against the door as he closes it, taking a momentary breather. The chapel had driven him out the moment the ice storm had let up, and he wasn't expecting the sudden feeling of not being in control of his body. It - and the pass through the graveyard, with its malformed angels an uncomfortable reminder of the Lucifel-monster he'd sacrificed his life for - had shaken him enough to need it.

He really hopes he's found the right place.]

Ginger...? Leon, House?

[Things have been... unpleasant for the past few days, he spent most of his time staring at the pale face of an undead ninja, trying to remember himself she had to be home, forcing himself to ignore her pained groans and the black blood dripping from her body. Spending so many days in the same building even started to make him paranoid, he doesn't feel comfortable anymore in that place- something is watching... and he's eager to leave before the effects of Cabin Fever get even worse.]

Enoch.

[Leon is the first one to appear to greet him, he looks tired, his beard started to grow and he looks like complete trash. Even the usually fluffy collar of his leather jacker is all flat on his shoulders, almost as if it deflated to highlight how exhausted he is.]

Anything following you?

[Enoch looks up, expression turning concerned as he takes in how haggard Leon is. He can't imagine anyone is much better, but all the same, seeing it...

To his question he shakes his head and pushes himself to his feet. He should stand now that someone is here. He isn't injured, after all.]

Mine is...gone, and I didn't attract any anomalies on the way. Are you all right?

[log] Cat Scratch Fever [closed]

Before the Monsters Arrive

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Monster Arrival and Beyond

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Day 084 - Mingle with Enoch

cw: vomiting and other withdrawal symptoms

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Meeting up

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