[log] The Pit [open]

[snowblindmods]

Characters: Anyone participating in the Pit event.
Location: A room.
Date: Day 330
Summary: You wake up in a room.
Warnings: general warnings; potential for morbid/suicidal thoughts; note specific warnings in subject line, please!

Comments

[rubikscomplex]

[Ow. Double ow, when RGBV gets another strike in at his forearm when that comes up!

House is grinning like a mad thing, though, even as tears of pain prickle at the corners of his eyes.]

Oh, come on! That was hilarious! And you owe me twenty bucks. Fido's just a garden variety flying snake now.

[motherserpent]

Wasn't binding, didn't say I agreed to it.

[It's just a dumb bet, but somehow that point is important to her. Tess glowers, gathering up RGBV in her arms and trying to soothe him with gentle petting. He's still staring at House, though, mouth hanging open in a threat display.]

[rubikscomplex]

[House, perhaps wisely, stays down right where he is for now.]

I help you find out your baby-booboo needs more protecting than you thought, and you don't offer anything? Not even a kiss? Are you the goddess of ingratitude, too?

[motherserpent]

Uh, yeah. I've got a lot of purviews, okay?

[Sarcasm makes it sting less.]

[rubikscomplex]

[Talking of stinging, your giant ass snake's bites hurt, Tess.]

And Google's your master.

[Wait. House's brow furrows, a few things slot into place about her first messages.]

Google's another god. And you knew random ass illnesses, like off of Web MD. Internet gods. Are you some kind of networking goddess? The Aztecs apparently got real high tech in the modern era in your universe.

[motherserpent]

Yeah, and then they got dead. It's not enough you plucked my snake; now you want me to talk politics?

[Way to hit three sore points in one set of observations, House. Tess shakes her head and turns to go.]

It's been real, but I've got an abyss to stare into.

[rubikscomplex]

[Interesting. House watches her go with a keen curiosity in his gaze. But he doesn't say anything else... because all of those bites might not be lethal, but they hurt like holy hell. And without Tess there to immediately distract him, the quiet horror of the empty white room presses in on his mind.

At least Tess can take comfort in the fact that a place like this is one of House's personal torture chambers at this point.]