snowblindrpg | [log] fuck [closed]

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[log] fuck [closed]

Characters: Alfie Solomons, Emily Kaldwin, Gregory House, John Watson, Royce Melborn, Tifa Lockhart
Location: building 120 and building 101
Date: evening of 190 to morning of 192
Summary: when you see "House" and "Royce" in the same log you know it's gonna be a party
Warnings: ear removal

Catch-all for EVERYTHING - death, murder, torture, yelling, etc. Top-level and tag as you see fit.

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[House gives her a flat look.]

Processed chicken, kid. They grind it up and turn it into shapes and fry it. Eat however much you want. I told you I'm not hungry.

[A baby chicken.]

Oh. The cooks in the kitchen would do that with other meats. They have a metal funnel and a turning handle, and you put the meat in, and it comes out in strings on the other side. [Fuck it. She has another chicken nugget. She has half of another one, then puts it back in the bag with the remaining nuggets and carefully, gently seals it back up.]

Did you want the rest back?

No. Keep it.

[He's going to be dying soon, anyway. It's not like it will matter.]

And go somewhere else.

Okay. But I have two things to ask you first. [She takes up the baggy, but doesn't move to leave or advance. For a moment or so, she's quiet and thoughtful.]

If all the doctors could make something that made people feel better, like Mister Sokolov's elixir, would you help them do it?

[He eyes her.]

Depends on what's required to make it. And what the cost is.

Okay. Mister Sokolov and Mister Piero each made an elixir to cure the rat plague, but neither of them worked well. They didn't like each other very much. [She fiddles with the edges of the baggy.]

But finally, they decided to work together, so they mixed them, and then they helped cure the rat plague. So I thought... if all the doctors work together, maybe you can make something that helps people not be sick anymore. Like when I hurt all over.

I thought you wouldn't work with the other doctors, though, because you're grumpy. Miss Claire said Mister Watson would, but she didn't know if you would help either.

Temple doesn't know me. I'm the head of a team back home and work at a teaching hospital. She's got a decent idea, I'll help. She doesn't, I'll tell her why it's stupid. Teamwork.

[The first entry under "asshole" in the dictionary would, in fact, be, "Gregory House, MD."] Okay. [Even Emily understands that's about as much as she's going to get out of House.]

The other question is... [She looks up with just her eyes.] If I wanted to go to sleep for a long time, what does that mean?

That is an incredibly non-specific symptom. How much sleep have you been getting?

I sleep okay. Mister Alfie doesn't feel well, so we stop a lot, and he sleeps, and I sleep with him because I'm tired.

But not tired like before, like I'm sleepy. Just tired.

I thought... maybe it would be better if I slept for a long time because bad things happen all the time here. But Mister Alfie seemed upset when I told him, and Royce said they would be sad if I slept forever.

[Oh. That kind of sleep. Jesus Christ, this place.]

You're depressed. You need therapy and medication. I can give you one. You'll have to ask your surrogate parents for the rest.

Okay. [Though none of that means a lick to her exactly. She doesn't think she's ever been depressed, and therefore doesn't know what it means. (She has been, though, when he mother passed, when she was alone at the Golden Cat surrounded by people, when she was the only child at the Hound Pits, when she was locked in Havelock's room.)

Therapy is strangely not something afforded even to empresses.] Will the medicine make me not want to sleep forever?

Depends if this is regular depression or MN-induced depression. One's more actually treatable than the other. And the medicine will regulate you and let you deal with them. The urges don't go away.

[One might get the impression he's speaking from personal experience.]

[Quietly, she thinks about this for a while, still fiddling gently with the baggy.]

I think I would like some medicine, but...

Having medicine sounds bad. What if people think I have something strange and they'll catch it? What if... people don't want to talk to me anymore because they think I'm sick?

They already know you're sick. And you're a little kid. They'll just want you getting help. No one cares if you take medicine.

Okay. [She's trusting you as a doctor, House!] Will you help me get some medicine?

[He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.]

Fine. I'll put in a script if you go away. You need to talk to whoever, though, kid. The meds aren't enough.

I'll talk to Miss Tifa. [She won't, BUT, listen... She'll draw a lot instead. That's theraputic enough, right?] I wouldn't stay in the kitchen. Mister Alfie always checks on everything.

There's a room at the very top if you want. There's two other rooms, too.

[And with that said, she'll go without much fuss for once.]

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