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

[rubikscomplex]

Characters: Anyone in the Bunker!
Location: Bunker, Building 326 (high school), and Building 317 (hot shower house)
Date: Day 404-409
Summary: Goings on in the bunker post-event, and travel outside for House and Will. Brought to you by this cover.
Warnings: Please add them to subject lines, but likely body horror discussions, examination of vomit.

Comments

[rubikscomplex]

Let's go with 'yes.'

[To both of the above. It's black and velvety and that's about all that can be said of it.]

Also it's been taking up space for I don't know how long. Trying to lighten the load. You want a trash bag, too?

[clowngirl]

It'll look less sexy on me, but sure.

[She shrugs and holds out a hand. She's sure she can use it for storage of some kind or another.]

You need lightening of any snacks?

cw: mentions of disordered eating

[rubikscomplex]

[Away the trashbag goes, offered up as a neatly-folded square of plastic. As for food... House still has more of it than he should given his eating habits. Or lack thereof.]

You want chocolate or peanut butter?

[clowngirl]

[She hadn't actually expected him to share any goodies with her, and answers all too gleefully.]

Hit me with the chocolate, Hot Stud!

[rubikscomplex]

[House pulls out one of the CLIF-style bars he'd picked up from his last run in the convenience store for food. It's chocolate chip and he tosses it to her.]

Surprised you're not sick of the food around here. I'd kill for something hot.

[Hot chocolate would be nice.]

[clowngirl]

[Harley catches it and makes short work opening the bar.]

What can I say? I got a sweet tooth. [She takes a bite of the chocolate.] I'd kill for somethin' hot too... but then, I'd kill for a lot less.

Rhys can cook, if you can catch 'im sometime. Bypasses the whole murder deal. Not as good as our resident goddess lady, but pretty good.

[rubikscomplex]

Mm... [House has 'made up' with Rhys, but he tries not to bother the guy mostly. He knows Rhys would like to be bothered and have the chance to mother someone and feel useful, but the doctor isn't all that interested in it. Not right now, anyway.] As much fun as it going and making puppy eyes and the resident mommy, think I'll pass. Killed a bunch of ants today. How about you?

[clowngirl]

Killed a bunch of brain cells, prob'ly, playin' the same old games of Sudoku. I did start work on an epic romantic novella but then I got writer's block just as the hero was about to profess his undyin' love. Suddenly nothin' sounded quite right. [She sighs.] This place blows. At least insane asylums have padded rooms and electro-shock.

[There's a bit of hope though, that maybe she can at least be useful.] Didja get all the ants? 'Cause I could help if you got more.

[rubikscomplex]

"You're hot like a tamale. Let's blow this popscicle stand, babe." There you go. Feel free to dedicate the book to me. Or I'll take a co-authorship.

Pretty sure we got most of the little bastards. We gassed 'em. That's 95% effective, at least. Don't mix bleach and vinegar in small spaces unless you've got a plan.

[clowngirl]

Bummer. [Yeah, she'd welcome something to do even if it meant more a bigger, buffer infestation of ants.]

And if you wanna work your way up from ghostwriter then you're gonna hafta give a girl a better line that that. Trust me, if I had a nickel ev'ry time I heard that one I'd be richer than a Lex Luthor/Bruce Wayne lovechild. [Which, if the tabloids are to be believed, is already in the works.]

[rubikscomplex]

[House faux-shudders.]

I think you just disturbed the Force or something. That kid'd be a match made in silver spoon hell.

[clowngirl]

With any luck, he'd get Brucie's hair. And chin. And strangely chiseled physique... [Cue Harley having not paid enough attention to Bruce Wayne's time in Norfinbury to learn that he's actually Batman.]

[rubikscomplex]

Strangely? The guy's Batman. [Cue House cluing her in.]

[clowngirl]

[She snort-scoffs, practically on reflex.] And I'm Wonder Woman...

[rubikscomplex]

Pretty sure you already have a secret identity. Stick to one. It's confusing otherwise. Don't believe me, just look back in the archives. We've had a coupla versions of the guy.

[clowngirl]

[A long pause.] You're not kiddin', are ya?? But he's-- he's... Huh. Y'know, considerin' his history of childhood trauma that actually is startin' to make a lotta sense.

[She's still going to go through the archives because, holy cow, that is an awful big revelation in her world.]

[rubikscomplex]

Surprise! Brucie baby's batty. I liked the first guy more than the second guy, personally. Slightly less annoying.

[clowngirl]

Did Mr. J know? I mean, he hadta know, right?

[Talk about being told things on a need-to-know basis...]

[rubikscomplex]

Pretty sure he knew. The guy caught him and had him for a while. Think this was between the 1.0 and 2.0 versions of you.