snowblindrpg | [log] Private Eyes [closed]

[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. 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.]

[A simple single-story building, the snow weighs uneasily on it, and it creaks and groans under the strain at the best of times. It's very dark, and only the kitchen and living room are intact. The couch has been ripped open, leaving it a mess of framing and foam stuffing. The kitchen has a back door. Two snowmen have been built outside. A message has been written on the wall in blue ink: "Don't wreck the snowmen! That's super mean!" "ALPHONSE ELRIC, MAMI TOMOE, FREYA CRESCENT, GREED, EDWARD ELRIC, STEPHANIE BROWN, DAY FORTY ONE, TRAVELLING EAST." has been carved into one of the walls. The following has been written on the wall in blue pen: "This is Building 95 97 on the composite map. Contact @CaptSteveRogers for details." Underneath this is a fairly accurate map showing the house in relation to the school and buildings 29, 35, 35, 37, 40, 41, 47, 48, 50, 53. House 34 is labeled "Medical assistance; hot, clean water. Contact Dr. Epps @claytonator". The school is labeled "School. Food available in cafeteria; DO NOT STAY HERE OVERNIGHT." The shed is labeled "Shed". "ALPHONSE ELRIC, DAY ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY ONE, PLEASE CONTACT @LELRIC FOR ANY ASSISTANCE." is written on the wall. "ALFIE SOLOMONS, 1922. Camden Town, London, England, UK, Europe, Earth. Day 185, March 15 or March 16." is carved into the wall.]

[Ginger is just trying to keep herself moving. Not that she particularly craves privacy or like being alone, but it's not often she gets the chance to walk around without anyone needing to worry about her getting into trouble outside. And she likes to give America and England their space when they need it.

She can be found walking around the hospital with a look of distraction on her face. Usually, she'd be more on top of greeting people in the area. Part of that would be the mania keeping her so alert. Now, she lags. It's not until anyone ventures quite close that she gives them her attention, offering a strained smile.]

Oh...hello! Sorry, I didn't see you. Silly me, my head's all stuck up in the clouds.

[ Castiel is normally not one for idle talk. He can't exactly become incorporeal and spread his awareness out to survey the great expanse of space when his physical presence isn't explicitly needed somewhere like he's accustomed to doing back home, but he can occupy himself standing guard or patrolling while the others rest, or sleeping himself when the need becomes too great.

Tonight, however, something stops him from wandering off and disengaging like he normally does. He lingers by the others, and when a moment of silence draws on long enough that it becomes clear that no one else is going to break it, he speaks. ]

The apocalypse. That's what I betrayed Heaven over. My orders were to ensure that the events prophesized in the Book of Revelations came to pass. The remaining Archangels said it was time. Claimed that God had told them He'd deemed it so. But I didn't believe them. How could God be so ready to see His creation torn apart by the last war between Heaven and Hell? How could I hurry it to its end when my duty had always been to protect it?

[ It was prophecy, yes, and prophecy is a law higher than laws, but it grates on him, runs counter to his fundamental purpose. For a long time he'd been able to bury the cognitive dissonance and keep following orders, but apparently that wasn't mean to last. ]

In choosing not to believe the Archangels, though, I choose to believe that our Father cannot stop them from acting against His will. And I don't know which I fear more; the idea that God truly desires that we free Lucifer and bring about the end times early, or that there is something out there powerful enough to stop Him from correcting Michael and Raphael and restoring order in Heaven. He only ever speaks to a select few angels, and I have never once been among them. How could I ever know for certain what His will truly is? How could I know if the Archangels were lying?

Edited 2017-03-12 08:34 (UTC)

[House walks into the phlebotomy lab just as Ginger is stepping out of it, and he has to pull back quickly to avoid running into her. The sudden appearance of another person also sends his heart jumping up into his throat, and he half-startles.]

Christ. Get your head out of the clouds and watch where you're going, idiot.

[It's a moment to register that this is, in fact, Ginger. Oh. House glances around.]

Where are My Country Tis of Thee and the lobsterback?

[House eyes Castiel in irritation. He's been trying to just keep his own mouth shut and focus on the network. It's not... working out wonderfully for him there as far as oversharing goes, but there's the safety of text and people far, far away from them that he can turn off with the flip of a switch. Castiel is here. And Castiel doesn't like him. Well.]

God is a joke. Sure, maybe no one can really know if he exists, but some all-powerful, all-knowing, all-benevolent father figure? Please. Daddy doesn't always know best, Cassie. So you got a couple of options:

1. He's dead;
2. He's a liar and doesn't care; or
3. My personal favorite, he's not as omnipotent or capital H 'he' as you thought.

He's just some guy with more power than you who can make himself look like a god. And you lap it up because that's how you were brainwashed to be.

Arrival - for Castiel and House

[Her latest command was to ditch her traveling companion, which Ecks thinks could probably be interpreted a few ways. Continuing to travel with him while making no effort whatsoever to leave him behind or place him in a ditch, however, is probably not one of them. She's bothered by her own disobedience, but she's also bothered by the order itself. No matter. They may well part ways naturally before she finds Doctor House again.

Together with the angel (an angel! It's still exciting to think about), she slips inside the darkened hospital a little while before lockdown. Her voice is soft as she points out rooms she remembers, explains the layout of the building as best she can.]

The exit we will use in the morning is at the top of the building. We will not be able to move from one floor to another after lockdown tonight.

Ecks: Doll Dispenser - for England, America, and/or Ginger

[Once it becomes clear just how many people are here tonight -- and just which people -- Ecks makes a point of seeking out the men with the flags. They don't seem to have flags in person even though their dolls do. She moves quietly, as always, so if one is not watching the door by which she happens to come in it would be easy to be surprised when she speaks.]

I have your effigies.

[Ecks sits and listens for the first few moments, her fingers worrying at Red Cat, her tablet in her lap and set to emit what warmth it provides. It's not irritation that goads her to speak, but the fact that Doctor House's argument is simply fundamentally flawed.]

A person with more power than an angel is typically a god, Doctor House.

[She's pretty sure, anyway. There isn't much that's supposed to be more powerful than angels.]

If the power is divine, that is what a god is.

Edited 2017-03-12 18:36 (UTC)

[Ginger can't stop the look of hurt at his words from crossing her face. But she does feel kind of like an idiot, so she just looks down instead of arguing. House is probably right.]

They're around here somewhere. I thought they might like some time to themselves.

[It used to be a chore to truly startle England, but nowadays he jumps at the slightest unexpected disturbance. Just as he does when Ecks enters the clinic on the second floor that England is rifling through.

His alarmed eyes quickly take in the fact that she's not a threat, but his heart keeps racing in his chest, especially given his initial confusion at her statement. His eyebrows furrow with clear perplexity.] Beg pardon?

[She's surprised him like she surprised Davesprite -- Ecks's instinct is to slip into a defensive stance, but instead she makes herself take a hasty step backward through the doorway.]

I am sorry. I startled you.

[Upon a second, less alarmed look, England notices she's still wearing the mittens he made for her. He hopes they've served her well, though this silly sentimental thought makes him feel a bit bad for causing her reaction.]

...it's all right. Nothing personal; just been in this town too bloody long. [She's been here for a while too, as he recalls. Perhaps she'll understand--what the constant danger does to them.]

[ Castiel makes like he's going to round on House and shout him down - inasmuch as Castiel ever shouts - but seems to lose the will halfway through the motion and just looks at him blankly before turning away again. ]

There was a time when I wouldn't have tolerated such a disrespect, much less harbored the same. [ Not with the same conviction as House, to be sure, but that's sort of the problem, isn't it? He doesn't believe anything with conviction anymore. What kind of angel has no faith? ]

And you are right, Ecks. But the one I serve is the God of gods, who created the universe and all things in it, including the angels and all the lesser deities. No force in all the worlds can match Him. I am as certain of this as I am of my own nature. [ House doesn't know how right his comment about brainwashing is - it's quite literally written into the architecture of Castiel's mind. ] So what could compel Him to stand aside and let His work be destroyed? So that maybe some of it can be saved?

I don't understand anything, anymore.

[ Castiel doesn't seem too annoyed by the intrusion on his personal space, but that's mostly because he has very little concept of it to begin with. As such he makes no effort to move out of hers, just cocks his head to the side and squints at her slightly. ]

Hello. You seem distracted.

[Fortunately, if Ginger minds having her personal space violated in return, she doesn't make any particular indication of it. In fact, she gives an even more warm smile. This person is new! She hasn't met them! Which is...the definition of new!]

That's me! Distracted Ginger. I'm Ginger.

[She goes for his hand to shake with the one she has that isn't broken in a sling.]

Sorry, again. It's just been kind of rough lately. I mean, like, it's always rough around here, you know? But super rough. What's your name?

[This is already going better than that time she startled Davesprite, though.]

Is your blood poisoned?

[Because that's what makes people paranoid, right?]

[It takes a second to parse what she means by that question, because it seems like a non-sequitur to England's reaction, but he eventually realises what she's asking.]

Yeah. I believe so. Not as badly as some people have had it, though. [Not as badly as America and Ginger had it.]

[Even though he knows there's likely nothing more to be found here, England scours every cupboard and drawer with the same meticulousness he brings to his needlepoint projects. He knocks on walls, tests surfaces with his fridge magnet, and listens for unusual sounds amongst his search for physical items.

It's easy to occupy himself this way, and easy to run into him while he's rifling through his fifth bedroom or clinic or bay.

But inevitably, he finds himself down in the morgue, sitting by an unmarked but occupied drawer. He's silent as he regards the body drawers against the opposite wall, but on his contemplative face, there's a clear desire to speak aloud.]

[ Castiel stares at the offered hand for a full ten seconds before remembering what he's supposed to do with it. A greeting, yes. He takes her hand firmly in his and kind of. Wiggles his arm, slightly, before letting go. It's pretty clear that this is an action he's seen before but never preformed himself. ]

I am Castiel. You're Ginger, though? Pretty pink flowers? I was told you might be willing to help me with these. [ He holds out his hands, in turn, to indicate the pair of white cotton socks he's wearing on them as makeshift mittens. ] I couldn't find gloves.

[House hears her voice. He's stopped off on the lower level, himself, just trying to warm up and get his pack situated with his new supplies as he likes them. Ecks' voice may be quiet, but it's distinct, and in a silent hospital, it carries. She's still with someone by the conversation, and it makes House's hackles rise.

It's a moment to grab up his wooden croquet and step out of the labor delivery area to confront them. He goes for casual indifference in his tone.]

I told you to ditch the sp- [He sees the angel guy. Very much not blind this time.] Christ. Him? Really?

To bone.

[It's not a question, and it's said with a shrug. He doesn't expect either of them is actually getting any. It's too cold here.]

Cool. We can play dollies and paint each other's nails. Come with me. I got something for you.

[Without waiting for a reply, House does an about face and heads off toward the admissions office.]

[ Castiel is listening intently as Ecks informs him about the hospital's layout when House enters the room. Fortunately for him, Castiel is still far from mastering navigating his tablet, so between House's reliance on text since before he arrived and missing a few key conversations, he has no reason to connect @hotstud_xxx to this particular face.

The voice, however, he does recognize. He cocks his head to the side, examining his face. ]

I met you before in the visions. You were Andromeda.

[Ginger blinks and follows him without a second thought. Cause, like, why shouldn't she? House is kind of scary but he's not, like, gonna break her other arm and she's pretty confident about that.]

What color were you thinking? I have a like, kind of sparkly peachy color...

Yes! That's absolutely me!

[She looks down at his sock gloves and can't help but laugh. But it's a good, like, charmed kind of laugh.]

Sure thing! That wouldn't be a problem at all. I mean, I'm like, am arm short, so sewing's a bit tough for me right now, but my friend England can sew, too! He's somewhere around here. I know he'd be happy to help, too.

Peachy beige is all I got, babe. Yours sounds better.

[In the admin office, House goes over to one of the desks where he's stashed his pack and his guitar. The guitar gets set on the desk, and he pulls from his pack a doll that looks like Ginger. He holds it out to her, not looking at Ginger.]

I don't want it.

[log] Private Eyes [closed]

Building 131

Building 58

Day 216

cw: religion talk

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cw: religion talk

Day 216

cw: religion talk

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cw: religion talk, implication that the Abrahamic faiths are most correct

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Day 216

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