[log] Rub-a-Dub-Dub [closed]

[rubikscomplex]

Characters: House, Ecks, Lutha, and Frisk
Location Building 188
Date: Day 172
Summary: There are too many people in a tiny bathroom, but there is a shower with working hot water!
Warnings: Cursing is very likely. House and Lutha are their own warnings.

[Only the bathroom remains of this apartment--a shower, attached tub, a sink, and a closet. It's cramped, but it's livable--and the hot water works!]

Comments

[hangfire]

Keep your mouth shut and your damn spade away from me, golem--

[He tries to straighten up through the snarl towards Ecks, but falters with a grimace of discomfort, leaning his weight back on one arm. It's already hard enough to move, and though the blow to his side didn't break bone or skin, the ache has only amplified how strangely he still moves for the time being.

It also makes his recoil at House's comment that much more noticeable. Eyes tight in a glare, he pushes at Frisk's outstretched pose with his handless arm, using the other to pull his scarf down past his chin - exposing more scars, yes, but also giving him the proper chance to spit in House's direction.]

[ecks]

[Ecks has already lowered the shovel, but she relaxes her stance further to let it rest on the ground as she shifts her weight off her injured foot, the pain sharper again now that there is not a crisis to crowd it out of her mind and make her forget how she ought not to lunge about on it. She will need to check it soon and see whether she has made it bleed again.

She watches Lutha expose his face and spit, but she does not move to do anything about it. Head lowering incrementally, she does as she's told and keeps her mouth shut, letting out only a disapproving grunt.]

[despiteeverything]

[Frisk doesn't let themselves be moved out of the way so easily, instead shooting a glare back at Lutha that says he isn't helping. Thankfully House doesn't fly off the handle at relatively small stuff, but Lutha kinda is, though he looks too shaky to do a lot right now.

They're a little frustrated that nobody is really paying them any mind though.]

What does it matter to you?

[rubikscomplex]

[House watches the spit fall short and just raises his brows, expression turning to mock-pity.]

You can talk if you want. [He says this to Ecks purely to be contrary. He doesn't imagine she has anything to add to the conversation, but you need to stop ordering his assistant around, Lutha. And as for Frisk...]

It doesn't, except it confirms a theory. Always nice to be right. [He waves a hand vaguely at Frisk and Lutha.] Keep your yapping dog away from me and I can actually get to my tablet and request some cough medicine for you.

i'll let kathryn decide if ecks can understand the swear or not :')

[hangfire]

[The look of pity rips a snarl and a grumbled, derogatory Orcish term tumbling out of his lips. But he's quickly getting spent, and the room's already starting to feel practically claustrophobic for how little space now feels safe to occupy. So he backs up, achingly pulling himself to the corner between wall and tub as he plucks his glove back up and starts the delicately tedious process of getting it back on his hand.

Frisk's annoyed glare gets one right back as he wrestles his glove back on between palm and teeth. What else was he supposed to do? Let the comment just slide? Psh. Besides, it's not like he needs a damn child stepping in to mediate fights for him.]

[ecks]

You are still doing it, Doctor House.

[What theory? Ecks is beginning to understand that she has missed rather a lot by not paying attention to this man on the network, whoever he might be. She does not remember seeing the name Lutha, but she has not been reading other people's conversations very assiduously.

She perks up unexpectedly at the word that comes out of the man's mouth -- an angry word she rather thinks she won't translate, in an accent that seems thick to her. She peers at Lutha, not coming any closer but not at all making an effort to pretend he doesn't have her interest. She immediately disobeys -- if it qualifies as disobeying when Doctor House has given her permission -- and opens her mouth to speak in her native tongue, an Orcish dialect with traces of human languages in its syntax. The consonants are harsh, meant for a speaker with rather larger teeth.]

You speak the common tongue?

throwing order out of whack real quick

[hangfire]

[He freezes, his glove still partially in his teeth, looking at Ecks like she'd just sprouted another ear out the front of her face. It's an accent that sounds almost too backwater to understand, but it's... Orc?

...

In contrast, his grammar is almost completely Green and incredibly formal, starting slowly as though he's not sure he heard her correctly.]

Yes. Not quite that sloppily.

[despiteeverything]

He's not mine, he's himself. ... besides, the cough medicine doesn't really do a lot.

[Their cough maybe got a little better, but mostly it seemed to resist medication entirely. And rest. And of course, once the medicine wore off, everything came back full force.

They do get distracted though, seeing Lutha and Ecks talk to each other. And in a way that didn't seem like it was about to break out into a fight! Some of the tension eases out of their shoulders.]

[rubikscomplex]

But it does something. [House isn't looking at Frisk as he replies. Rather, his eyes are flicking between Ecks and Lutha and the language that they apparently share. They can't be from the same world, though. Ecks would have mentioned the acidic water.]

What are you saying to each other?

[That's directed at Ecks because he doubts Lutha will tell him.]

[hangfire]

[He meets House's eyes long enough to shoot him an exhausted but smug smirk, quickly bringing his attention right back to Ecks instead.]

You do not need to answer that, understood? You asked me a question, not him. This is not his conversation.

[And without skipping a beat:]

Maybe don't go pushing treatment on a kid that might not want it, doctor. Ever thought of that?

[ecks]

[Ecks, too, looks at Doctor House, then back to Lutha. Her sudden anxiety about the situation shows only in the tensing of her shoulders and the tightening of her grip on the handle of the shovel. If he speaks her language, where is he from and how much of a threat does he pose?]

I understand that I can choose what I tell him. What land are you from?

[Slowly, she shifts ever so slightly to try to put herself between House and Lutha again.]

[rubikscomplex]

Maybe they're an idiot who needs to be treated anyway. I mean, you're a case in point, but since you're so passionate, I won't prescribe any pain meds and let the other doctors know you've got a problem with them.

[He's not even looking at Lutha. House just stares at Ecks, trying to gauge the conversation by her facial expressions. Usually, this is an effective tactic. Usually, people are not golems still learning what facial expressions and nonverbal communication are.

[hangfire]

I don't need your damn medicine. Do whatever you want.

[It's not a lie in a basic sense - he's survived this long without a doctor's help and would have to do so for the foreseable future - but how much his posture tightens at the suggestion of absolutely no relief from anyone should betray just how fast he's having to shut himself down out of sheer annoyance.]

Forthein. Orchdokch, if you're that eager for specifics.

And you are the one made out of the dead, if I remember correctly.

Were you built on some god-forbidden island outside civilization's reach, or did your makers simply learn to hide you too well?

[ecks]

You remember correctly. I am the one made out of the dead and I come from a hidden place.

[She is not familiar with either of the places he names, but there is a great deal in the world with which she is not familiar. She is beginning to think -- to hope -- that she is wrong and that he is not from her world at all.

If he is from her world, he must be from the Empire. There is an obvious way to test that. For House and Frisk's benefit, she drops briefly back into English.]

Hail Naraku.

[rubikscomplex]

Hail Cthulu.

[It seems like the thing to say. He's watching Lutha closely.]

[despiteeverything]

'm not an idiot.

[It's a tiny grumble in the background. On the whole they, like House, are watching both Lutha and Ecks with interest and slight wariness.]

[hangfire]

[The wariness should be unneeded, considering all Lutha does in response is give both House and Ecks a horribly flat look of confusion.]

Keep your cults or whatever that is properly out of this. I'm not interested.

[And, flicking his eyes back to House:]

Take your Cthulu and shove it up your ass.

[ecks]

[Everyone, it seems, is staring at Lutha, because Ecks is as well. Emotional responses can be nuanced and difficult to read, but there is not much to mistake in the way he reacts. Not unless he is a very good liar. She continues looking at him, but she directs her own reply to the others, keeping it in English.]

He is not from where I am from.

[And with that, she hangs the shovel back up on her pack.]

[rubikscomplex]

[And with Ecks' return to English, House's attention turns from Lutha and over to Frisk.]

You are an idiot, but that's pretty much everyone here. Don't take it personally, half-pint. I'm putting in a prescription of cough medicine for you.

[House brushes past Ecks, steps over Lutha's legs, and finally gets back to his pack. He pulls out his tablet and promptly steps into the small closet and closes the door. Goodbye, people he doesn't want to talk to. He'll just listen from in here and ask Ecks more later.]

[hangfire]

Sure, glad we got that figured out...

[It's a mumble against the collar of his shirt as he finally finishes wrestling his glove back on properly. House gets a snarling glare and Lutha pulling his legs away. Were he in a less irritated mood, tripping the old man might be an entertaining option... but he's not exactly fond of getting another whack with a shovel.

Frisk, though, gets an expectant stare, following House for a moment with increased irritation before finally just shoving at the kid with his boot in the direction of the closet. Don't let that insult slide, kid, come on!]