Gregory House, MD (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rubikscomplex) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
snowblindrpg2015-09-13 10:27 pm
rubikscomplex) wrote in snowblindrpg2015-09-13 10:27 pm
[log] House Party [closed]
Characters: House, Archer, Lancer, Marcos, and Miranda (HALMM)
Location Y9 - Building 109
Date: Day 037, evening
Summary: House comes back from a long day searching at the vet only to find his base has been captured by n00bs.
Warnings: Will add as necessary, but general House disclaimer for insensitivity.
[House is cold, tired, aching, but triumphant as he makes his way over the empty house he's designated as his base camp. His limp is more pronounced than normal after a long day, but he's still determined to conserve his Vicodin. He'll take one when he gets inside. Which needs to be soon. His tablet is chiming at him to get inside before the curfew.]
Yeah, yeah, I'm there.
[He opens the door.
And immediately shuts it.
There is at least one person in his base camp. Well, it was bound to happen. House swears under his breath. No time to make it to another building before the curfew, and he's not sure he'd want to bother with as beat as he is. He pulls the Vicodin from his pocket and pops two. Screw conservation. He has to deal with people. That warrants something extra.
House opens the door again and limps inside, completely ignoring anyone already in there and making his way slowly to the bedroom. He expects someone will initiate conversation somewhere along that journey, but it won't be him, thanks.]
Location Y9 - Building 109
Date: Day 037, evening
Summary: House comes back from a long day searching at the vet only to find his base has been captured by n00bs.
Warnings: Will add as necessary, but general House disclaimer for insensitivity.
[House is cold, tired, aching, but triumphant as he makes his way over the empty house he's designated as his base camp. His limp is more pronounced than normal after a long day, but he's still determined to conserve his Vicodin. He'll take one when he gets inside. Which needs to be soon. His tablet is chiming at him to get inside before the curfew.]
Yeah, yeah, I'm there.
[He opens the door.
And immediately shuts it.
There is at least one person in his base camp. Well, it was bound to happen. House swears under his breath. No time to make it to another building before the curfew, and he's not sure he'd want to bother with as beat as he is. He pulls the Vicodin from his pocket and pops two. Screw conservation. He has to deal with people. That warrants something extra.
House opens the door again and limps inside, completely ignoring anyone already in there and making his way slowly to the bedroom. He expects someone will initiate conversation somewhere along that journey, but it won't be him, thanks.]
no subject
The door opening and closing and opening against startles her into action, and by the time House shuffles in she's on her guard for an attack. His lack of aggression throws her off balance, though, and it's a moment before she gets it together enough to react. ]
-Hey! Wait a second!
[ Not her most intimidating moment, but he just let all the factionally warmer air out damn it. ]
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The door opening and closing startled him into action as well, but the lack of aggression also threw him off balance. And clearly this is a man who doesn't want to deal with people, which is why he got a-]
We've got food if you want some.
[But he's otherwise going back to his previous pursuit of bitching about the last few days to someone over the tablets, probably shooting the shit with someone and/or listening to shit being shot, and/or trying to locate someone on the network who's found a deck of playing cards because surely someone must have had to find one by now. His fuck supply is perilously low right now.]
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He's also cruising this "does it look like I give a fuck" cruise liner, but with marginally more humor. Or, at the very least, teenage slumboy energy. He knows better than to run up to a stranger and give them a hug (doubtful that House wants or needs one), but he at least puts up a hand in a mockery of a wave.
And promptly rolls back onto the floor, on his stomach.
House might recognize Marcos's voice when he offers a neutral: ] Shack up wherever you want, man. Just don't try to kill us and take our shit or somethin', all I got is a sci-fi book about some guy fallin' in love with elves.
[ That's a lie, but. You know. ]
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had he felt like sharing any of his observations with the rest of this group? of course not. he actually wasn't sure why he was here at all... he and lancer were more likely to try to kill each other than help each other.
but at least that meant he knew where they stood in relation to each other. everyone else was basically a cipher.
but regardless, for the time being he just continues hanging back, trying to remain unnoticed. difficult for a dude wearing a bright red cloak, but he usually somehow manages. it's easier when everyone else lacks for subtlety. ]
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I'll take the book if it's got a good sex scene, Carlos. [ He knows full well that's not Marcos' name. ] I'll take food whatever it is, Ponytail, and no take-backsies. And Janey... my, my. [ He just gives her a look up and down before raising his brows. That's what someone in a 'war' wears? Really? Unless there's a sex worker's closet here that she raided. House leaves off commenting on the last man for now. He knows he's about to have to deal with Marcos being annoying. Might as well not add to the burden. ]
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[He'd have words about the Ponytail quip, but somehow has the feeling that he's going to get beaten to it in a second because of literally everyone else around him.]
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[ Miranda crosses her arms over her body - covering the spot on her torso where the Brute had ripped into it and her - but the tilt of her chin is challenging rather than defensive. If she's upset or annoyed at the implied insult to her wardrobe, she's not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction. ]
oh my god walks in 500 years late with no starbucks, i'm so sorry
He looks up.
And grimaces.
And rolls onto his side so he can take out a tube of mostly-dried mascara that he kept for...who knows what reason, but he's glad he did, because he's chucking it at House's general direction. ]
Pass. Out into the fuckin' snow with you, BigDongs69. [ That isn't House's username, but it's close enough. ]
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You guys are crashing my place, dude. Snowcap over there looks like he knows it, too. [ He points toward the white-haired man. ] Stay out of my way and I'm sure we can all have just the best sleep over ever. I even have a new magazine. [ He winks at Miranda. ] Who's up for a cosmetics quiz? I might have to make up half the questions, though. Water damage.
[ He really wishes he didn't have to do this, deal with so many of them at once. While he's sneering, he's looking over each of them, looking for weapons, the hand he has on his cane is white-knuckle tight, ready to lash out. Probably shouldn't assume the worst, but it's hard not to in Snowhell. ]
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This place should be large enough to house us all, at least for the night.
[ no need to throw the guy out of his place... unless he keeps being this obnoxious, anyway. ]
Though I'll pass on the quiz.
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But nah. Pass on riddles.]
-you'd be surprised at how many people here care about relationship quizzes.
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That was one time.
[ And they got literally nothing accomplished past the first question, and even if that's not supposed to be a dig meant for him, he's tired and maybe slightly cranky. ]
Better idea. How 'bout we all say one embarrassing thing about ourselves to make sure we all have leverage against each other. And to break the ice.
—No pun intended, damn.
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You guys are lame. All right, Carlos. I think you just volunteered yourself to go first.
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[ Marcos isn't too worried about the new guy rushing him, but even if he does, he's of the opinion he can deal with it...somehow. At least Lancer will have a good laugh about it, maybe Miranda and Archer too. Does Archer even laugh??? ]
Come on, guys. At least pretend to play along here.
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[ Whether or not Marcos has ever heard of the Beatles or knows the song "When I'm Sixty Four" may be in question, of course. He continues with a smirk: ]
But hey, if we're sharing each other's secrets, you tell your buddies what you told Dr. Chase of U-NASA?
[ Physical threats he can't manage, but blackmail is perfectly within his grasp. ]
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Really? How bad was it?
[...although he might be slightly wary - even if it didn't quite creep into his tone, but slightly wary - because if this ended up being conversation #5 which somehow led to stealing souls and making genocide rocks or things of that ilk he's gonna be so fucking done with Norfinbury and their weird as hell hobbies.
And of course it could be a lot of other shit (hence the slightly and not the majorly) but...still, man, still.
God, maybe he should text the inquisitor again.]
my bad for spamming this log, whoa...
Yeah, try to use his own information against him, will you. ]
...Hahh? Come here and ask me that same question, man.
[ Not addressed to Lancer, but to House. Clearly he's hit a sore spot, and being in snowhell doesn't make this any better... thanks snowhell.
He actually gets up and shoves his hands in his pants pocket, too. #juststreetkidthings
Someone stop this moron... ]
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There's no sense in rising to his provocation.
[ especially when it's so obvious that's what he's after. ]
At the very least, if you want to get rid of him, go do it somewhere else. [ he'd rather not have to watch some punk kid beating up on a crippled old man... mostly because he's pretty sure he wouldn't be able to just sit back and watch that. ]
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How about we skip the ice breakers, I take a bedroom, and everybody just goes to sleep?
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She angles her body between Marcos and House, as subtly as possible, but addresses the room. ]
I don't care if we sleep, but let's not turn this into a riot. Are we setting a watch?
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I'll take second if we do. [It's basically one of the shitty shifts, either way.]
Kid- [This to Marcos.] -you need something to punch or-...?
[In the event she goes back to the fighting thing he's gonna point out there's a lot of different rooms in this house, which is probably the one saving grace about the situation because imagine all of this taking place in a one room thing, plus last he knew Marcos wasn't pissed off at him (yet) so it would be more getting aggression out of their systems and/or opening this up to hoyay jokes.]
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I'll take first. Try not to give anyone a concussion.
[ One advantage to being in a group means that watches are feasible, and that means she's going to sleep a lot easier when she does. ]
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[ And let them sort it out, because he'll have a door between him and them and that should be enough for a single night.
That said, the good doctor goes limping off, not bothering to actually introduce himself to any of the people there. Most of them have probably seen at least one of the aliases he's using. That's good enough. ]