snowblindrpg | [log] Turn, Turn, Turn [closed]

[There's only one empty bedroom remaining of this house. The walls and floor are all covered with writing--complicated mathematical equations fill the entire room. It looks a little frightening and intense, but to someone who can decode the math, it's kind of sad; every equation is wrong. It's not even the complicated parts that are incorrect--whoever wrote all of this has mishandled things as basic as addition, subtraction, and the order of operation. The equations aren't at all novel, as well, instead being equations that are already well-known in the modern world. The equations have all been corrected in pen and chalk. Some of the zeroes in the equations have had black xes put through them, and smiley faces and other silly things have been drawn among the equations in bright green crayon. There are dried blood splatters on the floor and walls.]

[A standard two-story house with a basement. The first floor has a kitchen, living room, and dining room, while the second floor has two bedrooms and a bathroom. Each bedroom has a mattress. Small, finger-sized holes have been cut into the couch cushions.]

[House is fascinated by the equations on the wall. Less because of their existence and more because of the multiple corrections and other things drawn around them. He's counting off the different people he thinks have been through here based on the different writing utensils and apparent styles.]

At least five.

[It's announced proudly to the room at large before he goes to fetch one of the bright green crayons out of his pack and begin drawing more smiley faces. Maybe someone will come along and be able to tell the difference. But he'll try to be subtle.

And hey, if everyone else was drawing on the walls, it's probably okay.]

[House has decided to occupy himself in the kitchen for the moment. He has his Rubik's cube out and is playing with it, solving it, looking away as a he mixes it up, and solving it again. It's not going to keep him entertained for very much longer, though, and he gets up to explore while absently continuing to mix-up and solve the puzzle cube. With Dr. Strange joining them, he's more subdued and won't actively approach anyone or start a conversation, but he'll watch others, quiet and curious.

He's surprisingly light-footed for a man his size, so it might be a touch startling for anyone to glance up and find House eyeing them from nearby.]

[Ecks arrives quietly, slipping inside the remains of the building and quickly scanning the room before she shuts the door behind her and lowers her duffel bag to the floor. She's quite the ragged figure; she came to Norfinbury outfitted for espionage and while her mottled gray clothing and leather armor remain, she's long since given up on camouflage. She wears a tablecloth as a skirt over her trousers, as well as a bulky pair of mittens. The one on her right arm rides too high up; there's no hand inside it.

Her eyes are on Doctor House as she slips off the pack from her back as well. She's not sure what he's doing.]

The math is wrong but someone already made it right.

[Ecks came this way for one reason and one reason only. When she has spoken to Doctor House -- or not-Doctor House -- she settles in for the night well enough, but she's always watching the men in the room with her. At some point she gets up and comes to stand before one or both of them. Her gaze is steady, her expression blank, and her voice devoid of emotion.]

What are your intentions regarding Doctor House?

[Perhaps unfortunately for House, Stephen seeks him out almost immediately. He doesn't look much like a doctor in his tabard and cloak, but his voice should be familiar even if House didn't already know they were meeting him. His hands are bare, revealing multiple layers of scars culminating in eye symbols carved into the flesh, should House look, though the rest of Stephen's skin below his beard is carefully covered even now that he's indoors. Stephen hesitates in the entrance to the kitchen, gaze flicking to the rubik's cube in House's hands.]

You like puzzles?

[Dumb question. He was never great with kids.]

[It is a dumb question with an obvious answer, but he doesn't have the courage, yet, to sass the doctor in front of him.]

Yes, sir. [A pause.] Rhys has the pills you wanted me to keep. He's been cutting them up. I'm sorry I hung up on you. And didn't believe you about them.

[Flynn is busy digitizing one of the books he found shortly before he joined up with Rhys and House. Hunched over, he's carefully taking pictures and numbering them accordingly, and it takes him a moment to react. When he glances up from his tablet to see Ecks standing there he blinks, then glances left and right, looking for Rhys to see if this was actually meant for him.]

Intentions? I'm sorry, I don't understand. [He pauses.] I'm... here to teach him hieroglyphs?

[Flynn has taken refuge in the living room, flipping through his notebook. At some point he loosens his tie-made-into-a-bad-improv-scarf and uses the fabric to clean his reading glasses. They're already pretty battered and he's rubbing carefully, breathing on them regularly to avoid additional scratches.

When they seem clean enough he puts them on for a test, looking up; and straight at House which makes him flinch back in surprise.]

Oh hey, I didn't see you there. [Chuckling, he slides the glasses down his nose to glance at him over the rim.]

Are you bored? Wanna do some hieroglyphs? [A promise is a promise.]

[Flynn is cold.

Okay, yes, stop the presses because who in Norfinbury isn't but he is consistently miserable as soon as he stops moving and it's starting to get to him. His clothes are not made for this weather, none are of fabrics that keep you particularly warm or insulated and he has yet to find more layers. Even inside it seems like he can never fully drive the chill out of his bones.

Huddled on the couch he has taken the cushions to cover himself, building some sort of bizarre pillow shell around his body in an attempt to warm himself up while he works. He really doesn't care how it looks.

He's typing away on his tablet for a while to keep his mind busy, continuing with his book digitizations, but at some point his head tilts back and he just stares at the ceiling, quietly muttering to himself.]

Yeah, it's... [House glances over at her, then does a double-take.] Woah. You're like... a Frankenstein's monster elf. Are you made of dead people?

[He perks up immediately as he moves to sit down next to Flynn.]

Yes, please!

[House pockets his Rubik's cube and watches the other man eagerly.]

Why did you learn hieroglyphs? Was it just part of becoming a librarian where you're from?

[Flynn smiles, flipping to an empty double page. Digging through his messenger bag he fishes out two pens, holding one out for House to take.]

No, I didn't actually become a librarian until later. I learned it at university, one of my degrees is in Egyptology. Good times!

[Tapping his pen against his chin for a moment he thinks, then scribbles the first symbol, some rectangle with an opening on its underside.]

That's 'Pr'. It means 'House'. And if you add this one [Flynn draws another symbol underneath,] it becomes 'Great House'. [He looks over to grin at him.] Which means Pharaoh.

[This is a perfectly normal and understandable question, and she will answer it honestly, without hesitation.]

Yes, I am made of dead people and some of those dead people were elves. I am a flesh golem. Mary Shelley is not responsible for this.

I am Ecks. We spoke.

[She just stares impassively for the time it takes him to understand that she is speaking to him. She is good at waiting patiently. Sometimes. By this time in the evening she's shucked some of her layers, including the mittens, and it's perfectly clear that a.) her skin is a patchwork nightmare and b.) she's missing a hand.]

Are you going to hurt him? Are you going to take his things?

What? No! [Flynn looks legitimately disturbed by the idea.

Or maybe it's your skin, Ecks, who knows.] Why would I do that, I would never do that?

[Um, so.]

Are you going to hurt me?

Other people have done that. Other people have done both of those things to Doctor House. I am very tired of people doing those things to Doctor House because he is my friend and he dies too frequently.

[Her otherwise expressionless face shifts briefly into a very deliberate approximation of an irritated frown.]

I do not hurt people unless there is a justified reason to hurt other people. That is one of the choices I have made.

I don't hurt people either.

[The idea is more ridiculous than insulting, almost, and Flynn doesn't know what to do with it because in his world, that just never happens. Nobody ever believes that he is capable of anything, really.

But he can understand where Ecks is coming from. After all, it's part of the reason why he's here, too, that nagging feeling that there are just too many who aren't exactly fond of House, warranted or not.]

I... came to make sure he's alright. He's not exactly popular from what I can tell. [It's a little reluctant, the admission, but there it is.] So I, I think we're actually in agreement here?

[Stephen can't quite hide the twitch in his reaction when House calls him sir -- he'd known to expect it after their talk on the network, but that kind of deference coming from that face and that voice is deeply unsettling.]

You'd had a hard day, and I wasn't telling you the whole truth.

[He's not sure whether Rhys has filled him in, but even as a kid House is too smart for his own good, and Stephen has no intention of continuing to pretend his older self was anything other than an addict. Too many holes in the story.]

How are you feeling?

Better than I was. Rhys told me I'm an addict. [Or he'd implied it and House had worked it out, himself.] I feel really sore and sick sometimes. But not like when I just stopped taking the pills. [He'd felt like death warmed over by the time he'd made it to the building with Rhys.]

Are you going to be giving me pills now?

[Stephen is far more imposing than Rhys in House's mind, even in his hobo chic attire.]

[Not exactly a quantitative analysis, but if he doesn't feel like he's dying on the current dose that's evidence for House not having gone completely off the rails using his secret supply. Or maybe the kid's downplaying how bad it is.

He gives a little nod.]

That's the idea. You'd asked for my help before, to keep you from going back to it. We're not exactly friends, which makes it easier for me to be an asshole if I need to. Just between you and me, though, I don't really like being an asshole anymore.

[It's not a total surprise, especially since Rhys remembers Ecks mentioning that House was her friend, back on that hellish night of the bathroom. It's direct, but Rhys's can deal with direct.]

Intentions? I'll stick around till he feels better, then...I don't know. It's up to him, but if he wants me to stay and keep him company, I'd be happy to do that. Stay and be his medical officer.

[House eyes Stephen warily for a moment.]

Okay. Are we going to have to leave Rhys and Flynn? I think they could be really helpful. We were going to go exploring. I mean, if that's okay, sir. I want to help. And Flynn knows hieroglyphs and other languages. And Rhys is a druid. He can build fires and... [He casts about for some other aspect that makes Rhys valuable from being 'cool.'] And he has a card he can cut pills with. And he has a tail.

[Stephen can't quite hide his ongoing surprise that House is being social. He glances off into the other room from whence he came, trying not to look pained at the mention of Rhys's tail, then shrugs.]

I don't see why we can't stick with them.

[They'd traveled with Wilson, after all. And Stephen can't quite help the nagging feeling that this is just a kid he's dealing with, and after all the things he's seen on the other side of town....]

The, uh, exploring, though. People who explore around here tend to find things they might wish they hadn't seen.

Edited 2017-10-04 04:59 (UTC)

[log] Turn, Turn, Turn [closed]

Day 283 - Building 74

Day 284 - Building 79

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