[network] @hotstud_xxx; Day 314; audio [open] (cw: there may be graphic discussion of illness)

[rubikscomplex]

[This is Christmas. House's idea of Christmas, anyway. Sudden onset of deadly illnesses with disjointed and impossible progression of symptoms, and him not affected? Christmas! Someone out there loves him. Granted, he might not be able to help anyone get better and that's lame, but answers. Answers are something he is particularly prepared to provide. House is also curious if there's some psychosomatic effect at work here that might let him influence people. He goes on audio for this, and someone sounds almost gleeful.]

Hello, sick people! Dr. House here. I am a board certified medical professional and tenured professor of diagnostics at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital in Princeton, New Jersey. I have a double specialty infectious disease and nephrology and head the only Department of Diagnostic Medicine in the world in my universe.

All that said... tell me what ails you, Snowhell. Details required. Pics if you need them. Allow me to diagnose you. This service is free of charge for today only! Or however long this whole thing lasts. I'll even prescribe you meds if they're relevant to your condition. Step right up, then! Don't be shy.

It should go without saying, but I am limited to identification and diagnosis of Earth-based diseases. So if you've got a different name in your universe for the measels, I'm still calling them the measels.

((OOC: While House is an ace diagnostician, I am very much not. It would be helpful for me if you could indicate the disease or diseases your character is suffering from for the event or indicate that the constellation of symptoms was pulled at random/non-Earth-based.))

Comments

[tablewithoutpity]

[Hannibal closed his eyes, holding Will even tighter. Hannibal had desired to be known by this man, his friend, and what was love but to be known entirely, to be seen and to be accepted? Cherished? He could not be truly loved by those who admired him for his artfully prepared meals, or, on the other end of the spectrum, those who knew what he had done and admired him for his murders. Neither knew him. Not truly. His parents had not been alive long enough to truly know him, and Mischa, whom he had loved, likewise had seen him in the chrysalis, dead too soon to witness the transformation that her very death had precipitated. Was Will, then, the first who had ever truly loved him? Wholly and by choice?

Hannibal swallowed, surprised and yet not to feel a tear slipping down his cheek. He turned his head and pressed his lips to Will's cheek, the tiniest of shudders joining that tear in signalling how deeply Will's admission affected him.]

[ex_this_ismydesign36]

[ A kiss on the cheek?

That was telling, in a wide variety of ways. Hannibal kissed on the lips, either as a prelude to a sexual encounter -one he was usually mastermining- or even as a subtle expression of dominance; possession. A kiss on the cheek was spontaneous and suggested more about the other man's motivations and his affections than all the words or declarations.

So Will didn't try to insert words into the moment. Instead, he made a small noise of approval and nestled closer, getting his other arm up and around Hannibal to hold him securely. They were going to have to untangle themselves and start moving soon, but for the moment, Will silently offered comfort, for everything Hannibal had just suffered through, as well as accepted comfort. ]