snowblindrpg | [log] I Think We're Alone Now [semi-open]

[ Obediently setting down the light, Will lifted the requested tools, studied the blades and then flipped them around to offer House the handles. ]

Anyone ever tell you, you could have been a fascinating serial killer if you hadn't gone into medicine?

[ He may be appreciating House's autopsy skills, with makeshift tools, a little more than is considered socially acceptable. ]

[House is wearing a mask, so when he makes a face at Will, it's only his eyebrow rising as he takes the clippers that's visible.]

You know, you're the first one to mention it. [A pause as he looks up.] Actually, I think Foreman might've mentioned something like that. 'Fascinating' wasn't the word he used though. 'Psychopath' and 'sadist' were probably in there. He's hilarious when he's trying to prove me wrong. [And handy. Out of all his fellows, Foreman is the one he wishes was here the most. The other man is a good check and balance on his own ideas. He has been since day one. Even if it's fighting tooth and nail against him, the young doctor has a way of digging up new evidence that confirms House's more wild diagnoses or leads them in a better direction.]

What nickname do you think they'd give me? The Midnight Gardener?

[He inserts one end of the clippers in just below the sternum and makes the first snip. There's a satisfying crunch of bone as the handles come together.]

You really wanted to say Midnight Cowboy just then, didn't you? [ Will inquired, drifting closer, watching House work.

There was an economy of motion, a skill of leverage and precision that spoke to experience in dismantling bodies. Will briefly indulged in the internal fantasy of helping House dismantle Robert Miller.

Of course in Will's fantasy Miller was still alive at the time. Maybe something like how Gideon had cut into Chilton that time?

Will gave his head a small shake, reaching up to rub at one eye with the heel of his palm. ]

Usually the media are the ones who come up with the names. At the BAU we try not to give the killers that much notoriety, but the media names still stick behind closed doors.

Media would probably call you The Shear Genius. [ Not really, but the pun helped Will move a little further away from the darkness of his thoughts. ]

[He's admitting to nothing. You can't hear what he's thinking, Will.

At the alternate name suggestion, House snorts, completing the second snip. One more and they'll be through.]

I'm making you my murder PR guy when I go rogue. Definitely need you on the naming committee. They ever give your murder persona a name for when you killed that one prehistoric tech guy?

Only Jack and Hannibal knew I'd killed Tier. [ Will explained, shifting back to where House had laid out his tools, anticipating a request for the next body poking implement. ]

And I didn't continue, well I did but in another country and across multiple years, but only regularly active serials get names. I was a ghost.

[The final snip and they're through. House sets the hedge clippers aside and turns for the next item.]

Hammer. Wanna pry this poor bastard's rib cage apart a little more.

[He considers Will's words for a long moment.]

Ghost Rider. He's a guy with a flaming skull for a head who takes out bad guys on his righteous rampage of revenge. He rides a motorcycle and wears a sick leather jacket.

[ Picking up the requested instrument, Will held it out towards House, much the same way he had the hedge clippers. ]

I can't ride a motorcycle and I look ridiculous in leather anything. [ He said, in a deadpan tone. ]

Are any of the organs even worth testing? [ Had they mummified, or gone straight to dust. ]

[House raises both brows this time as he looks at the other man.]

I could find a leather jacket that looks good on you.

[There are a few more crackles and crunches as House gets the man's ribs spread. Who needs forceps?]

Hold the light up a little higher here, and I'll let you know. [Even as he's waiting for the light, House dips his hand down into the chest cavity.] Mm... definitely enough tissue for a sample. Think I've got the lungs here... maybe the heart.

Edited (missing word) 2018-10-08 04:24 (UTC)

You wear a pink scarf and a pencil cap. I'm not sure I trust your fashion sense. [ It wasn't a serious critique. They all wore what they needed to in order to be warm.

Stepping to a better location Will hiked up the light, trying to angle it so that it shown down into the open cavity of the man's chest. ]

Can you get a sample that will have integrity? [ They weren't exactly in the most sterile of environments here. ] Everything feel normal?

[ Yep. These were the types of conversations they had. ]

[House tilts his head as he pulls up a little with what he has in his hand to look at it under the light.]

Definitely lung. It feels tough. That should hold. Outside isn't gonna give us much, but I can cut into. Let me just get this piece out. [He turns and reaches for the scalpel himself so that Will can keep the light where it is. House uses that to cut off one of the lung lobes and draw it out. It's dark, shriveled, about what you'd expect from a corpse that's been gone this long. The doctor sets it carefully on a rag he's laid beside the corpse and makes a shallow, delicate incision. He's trying to avoid puncturing all the way through as he lifts the sides.]

I've got intact lung here and... something inside it that's definitely not lung. [There's a frown in his voice.]

[ This is how they spend their evenings. What was probably more telling was the fact that both of them were completely engaged by the autopsy. Who needed tired rom/coms when you had dead moldy bodies?

Will came closer, peering around House's arm to look at the lung. ]

Can you tell what it is? Maybe an infection of some sort?

[This is fun!

It's House's idea of fun, anyway. This is much more engaging then drawing eyes on everything and trying to find cursed Prophet Eye dolls. And it's a hell of a lot better than most rom-coms. He can live with some of the classics, but he'd always been the horror fan. Wilson's the one who likes to watch movies that make him go all teary-eyed.]

Maybe... [He reaches for the tweezers and uses them to peel back a piece of the lung while he holds it down with the scalpel.] Definitely damage going on, but this looks like something else. [House glances up at the dead man's face. There are flecks of dried something on his chin.]

It's not blood. Could be some kind of vomit.

[ That was it; it was fun.

Will followed House's description, frowning pensively as he looked from the corpse's chin to the bit of lung. ]

It's odd. [ He mused softly. ] Outside this bunker, we have evidence upon evidence of brutal, horrific murder ... slaughter, even. Yet most everybody in here appears to have died of some natural or accidental cause.

[Now that Will raises the point, that is a curiosity.]

This place blocks Wi-Fi reception, I'm thinking. Or power. Maybe lead shielding? And whatever natural cause this schmuck died from, the nanomachines couldn't stop it. It's possible it could've been radiation sickness... [It's difficult to tell, but vomiting would have been a symptom.]

Raises the question of why our nanomachines are still working to a point, though.

[Hmm...]

Maybe the Cult couldn't get in here for whatever reason. The data ghosts couldn't, and they said it was some kinda sickness, itself.

You're assuming that these bodies had nanomachines in the first place. [ Will pointed out, studying the man laid out before them.

After a moment, he looked at House. ]

What is a key component of any experiment? Observation. What if the bodies in this bunker were originally here to observe, whatever was going on in Norfinbury. Whether as a result of what went wrong, or whatever caused the never ending nuclear winter out there, they got trapped in here.

[That is an assumption, and House pauses to consider whether or not it's valid.]

I wonder what would happen if...

[Nope. No.

House shuts his mouth so quickly, his teeth click and he narrowly avoids biting his tongue. His thoughts had wandered toward the experiment with Sherlock so easily. What if they tried transferring their nanomachines into these corpses? Would there be any kind of notable difference? Could they twist around the requirement of killing themselves if they pulled blood out of that fleshmound in the building to the east? How hard would it be to drag a body out there? Should they do it anyway? Ask the Admin to check to see who the body even is?

The dark ideas swirl in his head and while House doesn't particular fear judgement from Will for having them, he's a little ashamed at how easily his mind had turned that way. Draining Sherlock's blood 250 mL at a time had been agony. He'd wanted to almost throw up by the time he was finished. Even with the experiment being a resounding success, House can't feel entirely comfortable with the part he'd played in it on a human level, if not an academic one.

He'd done what he had to do, then.

House realizes he's been quiet for too long and swallows before continuing, tone carefully casual as he goes back to examining the lung and the substance within.]

We should check if that mound of flesh thing east of the high school has nanomachines in its blood. Maybe we can reanimate one of these poor bastards.

[ The fact that House starts, but then stops himself, catches Will's attention and he waits with obvious expectation, eyebrow arching when the doctor doesn't explain. That was ... odd. Usually House would go ahead and blurt it out, no matter how outrageous.

Well with a few exceptions, but those were usually tied to personal conversations rather than topics about this town. ]

Do you have anything to transport the blood in?

[ He does not think this was Plan A. In fact, he's fairly certain this is Plan C ... maybe D. ]

[House is well aware that Will knows that something is up.]

I've got a container we could use, but it'd be easier just to carry the microscope over there. Or we could just go for it and drag one of the corpses over there.

[This is definitely Plan D, but House can elaborate on it on the fly.]

[log] I Think We're Alone Now [semi-open]

no subject

cw: graphic description of autopsy/dissection

cw: graphic description of autopsy/dissection

cw: graphic description of autopsy/dissection

cw: graphic description of autopsy/dissection

cw: graphic description of autopsy/dissection

cw: graphic description of autopsy/dissection

cw: graphic description of autopsy/dissection

cw: graphic description of autopsy/dissection

cw: graphic description of autopsy/dissection

cw: graphic description of autopsy/dissection

cw: graphic description of autopsy/dissection

cw: graphic description of autopsy/dissection

cw: graphic description of autopsy/dissection

cw: graphic description of autopsy/dissection

cw: graphic description of autopsy/dissection; suicidal ideation; body horror

cw: graphic description of autopsy/dissection; suicidal ideation; body horror

cw: graphic description of autopsy/dissection; body horror