((OOC: Ice sculptures where hands should be that don't look like hands at all. Breath that sucks the heat out of anything it touches. A half-shattered body, ice and flesh intermingled.))
[It had taken far too long to get out of the maintenance tunnels. With hands that are icy, grotesque sculptures and frozen bones and flesh that had kept cracking, it had been more than a bit of a challenge. But he's out! Out and off to do... something. Check doors. That was is.
But for once, for once, of course, he's hungry. And maybe if he eats, it will take away some of the agonizing pain he's in. As it is, the doctor stumbles forward through the snow, sometimes using his ice sculpture hands to stay up when his distorted body cracks too much. He can see someone ahead. Someone familiar. Royce. Which means Solomons. Ecks, too. Or the maybe-fake versions of all those three. Maybe copies, really. Copies can't change, but he's changed.
House licks his lips and wonders what it would be like to eat them. He's an anomaly now. The swallowing whole thing is kind of part of the shtick. They're copies, so it probably doesn't even really count. Maybe. He's a lot less conflicted about it than he probably should be.]
Hey, Ecks!
[She's the one who will come to him and get the others to come, too. House's legs are barely recognizable as such. They've broken so many times. There are icy sharks sticking through his skin. The same for his arms, particularly around the elbows.]
B (cw: body horror, broken bones, bones protruding from skin, sympathetic pain, cannibalism)
[It had taken far too long to get out of the maintenance tunnels. With hands that are icy, grotesque sculptures and frozen bones and flesh that had kept cracking, it had been more than a bit of a challenge. But he's out! Out and off to do... something. Check doors. That was is.
But for once, for once, of course, he's hungry. And maybe if he eats, it will take away some of the agonizing pain he's in. As it is, the doctor stumbles forward through the snow, sometimes using his ice sculpture hands to stay up when his distorted body cracks too much. He can see someone ahead. Someone familiar. Royce. Which means Solomons. Ecks, too. Or the maybe-fake versions of all those three. Maybe copies, really. Copies can't change, but he's changed.
House licks his lips and wonders what it would be like to eat them. He's an anomaly now. The swallowing whole thing is kind of part of the shtick. They're copies, so it probably doesn't even really count. Maybe. He's a lot less conflicted about it than he probably should be.]
Hey, Ecks!
[She's the one who will come to him and get the others to come, too. House's legs are barely recognizable as such. They've broken so many times. There are icy sharks sticking through his skin. The same for his arms, particularly around the elbows.]