[log] If Looks Could Kill (You Would Be Dead) [closed]

[thewarningafter]

Characters: Doctors Strange and House
Location: Hospital (building 131)
Date: 197 (afternoon / evening)
Summary: Dr. Strange wants to find out what's going on with his cloak. Dr. House dies again.
Warnings: Dr. House is going to die. Again.

131: The hospital is eerie in its silence, and snow presses in against many of the windows, keeping much of it in sterile darkness. It still smells like a hospital; the antiseptic is fresh, and there isn't much dust. Someone must be cleaning it, and yet it's clear no one is here. The hospital is four stories high with one basement, all connected via the elevator lobby and staircase. Unfortunately, the wall of the elevator lobby has been torn open all the way down, exposing it to the bitter air outside. While you can explore and remain on most of the floors of the hospital at night, you cannot travel between them until it's daytime once more, as the lobby seals itself up at curfew. The staircase is its own separate enclosed area, but it too seals itself off from the lobby at night, so you'll be spending an uncomfortable night on the staircase if you get stuck there.

Comments

[rubikscomplex]

[House purposefully pulls his glasses down the bridge of his nose and gives Stephen a long elevator stare that ends in a flat look.]

You're funny. I'm gonna go find one of those hovering gurneys. I can use it for a step-ladder.

[thewarningafter]

[He could, though. There are any number of ways he can think of to sabotage this plan...but they all end in House trying it again as soon as they part ways. Stephen is the first to break eye contact.]

What are you planning? Specifically, not just 'hit it with something.'

[rubikscomplex]

I've got a mallet covered in rubble dust I ground down and mixed with some bug spray I've got. I'll be rigging that so I can pull it to hit where the thing comes out. I've got a jump rope and some sheets for that. Figure I can run it over the struts in the ceiling.

Also planning to put a message for Wilson on the opposite wall from where it comes out, along with a Prophet Eye symbol. Spaghetti Principle. [Throw everything at it and see what sticks.]

[thewarningafter]

You know where it comes out?

[Oh. Right. He's seen it before.]

You're confident it comes out in the same place every time?

[rubikscomplex]

It did the first two times. Third one's the charm.

[thewarningafter]

This is a stupid idea.

[But he's already slinging his bag onto his shoulder, getting ready to go downstairs.]

[rubikscomplex]

No, it's not, or it'd take more than a tap to make you roll over like that.

[House collects his own things and it's only a few minutes for them to find a floating bed. Maneuvering it down the stairs to the morgue is probably the most challenging part of this endeavor.

Once they are there, though, the doctor starts unpacking supplies.]

I'll need you to hold the platform steady while I put things up. Think you can manage that?

[thewarningafter]

Keep pushing me and we'll see how steady I hold it.

[That's a yes. Stephen shucks his bag, looking around.]

Where's it come out?

[rubikscomplex]

Breaking my neck before I kill myself would be counterproductive, don't you think?

[Just saying, bro. House grabs up the mallet he has an attaches a long, thin bed sheet to the end before walking over toward the body lockers.]

It comes out here.

[He taps the wall paneling, then looks up, gauging the distance and what he'll need to do to get the arc of the swing in the right place.]

[thewarningafter]

[Stephen shrugs as if to say it wouldn't make that much difference. He tugs the platform closer to where they're going to need it, abandoning it for a moment to come run his hand over the paneling. Right now it feels like any other wall, so he turns his attention upward along with House. After a second he gestures.]

Best bet is to pop out those two ceiling tiles, use the grid to hang your fulcrum.

[rubikscomplex]

Mm. [House crawls up onto the floating table, half-expecting the power to cut out on it and send him sprawling. It seems to hold, though, and he pops the tiles up, standing on his tip-toes to thread the mallet and bed sheet through. He considers it another minute.]

Pull the table over toward the lockers more. I wanna make sure I can wedge the mallet in.

[thewarningafter]

Brace yourself.

[Stephen dutifully holds the table steady. He waits a second to be sure House has his balance before pushing it toward the lockers, slow and steady.]

[rubikscomplex]

[House does brace himself, looking down toward Stephen as he moves the table. For just a moment, the doctor's face lights up with a small, genuine smile.]

I'm riding a hover table... Eat your heart out, Marty McFly.

[thewarningafter]

[Stephen can't help the little huff of laughter House earns in return.]

Nerd.

[rubikscomplex]

Like you don't wanna be up here, flyboy.

[thewarningafter]

Kind of pales in comparison to being able to fly.

[He gets the table in position and braces against it to hold it in place again.]

[rubikscomplex]

Eh, if I wanted to fly, I'd get a pilot's license. I like my choppers more earthbound. [House works to get the mallet wedged in place against the ceiling panel and one of the protruding body locker doors.]

[thewarningafter]

Motorcycles? You're into motorcycles?

[rubikscomplex]

[House looks down at Stephen and raises a brow.]

Motorcycles, monster trucks, hot rods. I've got a sweet little convertible back home. I was looking into getting a bike again. Jersey traffic's a bitch.

[thewarningafter]

[Stephen chuckles at that, because monster trucks, but House has piqued his interest.]

What kind of convertible?

[rubikscomplex]

'64 Chevrolet Corvette. Got it after diagnosing a guy from the mob with Hep C. Never thought I'd be happy to have a court-ordered case. Red as a stop light and purrs like a kitten.

Go and pull the end of my line over there. Wanna make sure this works before we set up the full length.

[thewarningafter]

I almost bought a Corvette....

[Stephen cautiously loosens his hold on the gurney, watching to make sure it won't take off from under House before stepping back to where they started and giving the bed sheet an experimental tug.]

[rubikscomplex]

[The mallet pops loose and swings. House catches it before it can swing its full arc.]

Too low. [That's muttered to himself as he resets and adjusts the length of the material for the swing. Louder, for Stephen.]

What'd you buy instead?

[thewarningafter]

[Stephen hangs back where he is, one hand on the sheet to make sure it feeds back up smoothly without being pulled all the way through the support as House makes his adjustments, ready to pull again for another test.]

Lamborghini Huracan. Loved that thing.

[It's kind of weird to think about it now. Cars aren't really a thing in his life anymore, even if he's gotten past most of the fear that kept him from even wanting to ride in one for a time.]

Ready for another test?

[rubikscomplex]

Bitchin', doc. Give it another tug.

[And now to ruin the moment.]

I'm guessing it's the one you drove off a cliff or whatever.