snowblindrpg | [log] I Walk On the Wild Side [closed]

[Finding some exposed pipe in a corner is relatively easy. Actually getting Haurchefant to go through with this when the idiot cares so much is more challenging.]

Make sure it's tight; I've been known to break free from my bondage at the crucial moment.

[Jokes seem like the best way to pass the time when he's getting tied up. Haurchefant even likes those, right? House is not at the point that he's taking this seriously. Rydia had survived her night in the funeral home. He figures there's a good chance he'll survive this, and if not? Then maybe he finally gets out of here anyway, one way or the other.]

Yes, that can be rather bothersome, no?

[Haurchefant tightens the bonds. For a moment he's about to make a quip of his own about the situation but his expression turns grim.]

Are you quite certain you wish to go through with this, my friend?

I never do things I'm not sure of.

[That's a complete lie, but he shrugs and pretends it isn't.]

Look, you'll be upstairs the entire time. Rydia was fine when she stayed in the funeral home. Don't make this a thing, dude.

[Nope, too late, it's a Thing now.]

But if aught were to happen I'd not be able to forgive myself for allowing this.

[He bumps a fist against his chest.]

Could we not leave me down here? I am, after all, a warrior and able to handle a good deal of physical stress.

...If worse comes to worst and I cannot handle it then the town would not miss me but you are a healer and one of a scarce few. In a place such as this your presence is valuable indeed.

[It sounds like a logical concern but his voice has a note of "and you are my friend and I'd miss you" to it.]

Edited 2016-01-21 01:59 (UTC)

[Of course it is. Ugh.]

If aught happens to me, it's my fault. And I already told you. I need a first-hand account. You being a warrior just makes tying you so you'll actually stay down more difficult.

Also, you seriously have no idea how much people dislike me. $50 bucks says if I die I'll get... at least two people cheering on the obituary. Maybe three. You can pay me if I come back. Or just leave the money by my body locker, if not.

[Totally casual, nothing to worry about here.]

I've a good idea how much you tend to irritate others.

[He places a hand against the pipe.]

We've been traveling together for some time now, after all...

Still, I doubt your death would be a cause for celebration. I could tell you to be kinder to others if being disliked is bothersome but we've already spoken of this on numerous occasions.

[His brow furrows.]

Putting that aside for the moment, I must ask... Why is a first hand account of such import? Did Miss Rydia's recording not tell you enough of value? Must you endure such torment yourself?

[They've spoken of it, and House has flat out told Haurchefant enough times that he doesn't care what other people think to have gotten the message through. Or so he hopes.]

It didn't because we couldn't see the body lockers. It's just some panic. Not like I've never dealt with that before. And experiencing it myself lets me monitor my personal vitals. I can't do that for someone I can't reach and I don't have the time to teach you how to do it.

I'll not be able to talk you out of this will I?

[He knows stubborn when he sees it. Haurchefant kneels down to adjust the bindings around House's wrists. For a moment he is silent then he decides to break the tension.]

It has been some time since I last bound anyone. I do hope I haven't lost my touch.

Edited 2016-01-25 00:08 (UTC)

[House doesn't bother to answer, just gives Haurchefant a look at the first question. Once they move onto other things, he's... well, happy is a strong word, but he's more willing to talk.]

I hear it's like riding a bike. Just imagine I'm marauder scum working for the dragons. Or your girlfriend. Whichever works for you, pal.

If only I had my usual...accoutrements. You would at the very least be more comfortable.

[Unfortunately his padded collars and harnesses are all back at Camp Dragonhead.

He rises and walks back in front of House, smiling a slightly strained smile.]

Should the worst chance to happen pray call for me. I shall run hell-for-leather back to your side.

[That gets an honest raise of House's brows.]

Dude. Seriously?

[He's treated patients who got a little too enthusiastic in their 'play' or with their 'toys' before, but most people have more shame than to joke about it. He could almost believe Haurchefant is being serious by his tone. Almost.

They'll get back to the disgustingly heartfelt offer to help in a moment. The contents of Haurchefant's closet are more interesting.]

But of course!

[Going by their previous conversations, Haurchefant assumes House is talking about him rushing to his aid if danger arises.]

As a knight 'tis my duty to protect, I'll not see you harmed if there is aught I can do about it.

[Oh, come on.]

I meant the gear. Most people aren't so blase about their interests.

Right, though. Screaming and yelling for you.

[He shrugs as much as he's able to. It's not going to matter after lockdown.]

Just don't take anything I say about being scared too seriously. This place is designed to force us out when it gets close to lockdown.

I apologize if I have offended.

[He lifts his hands defensively.]

I meant only to ease the tension in the air. It is so dreadfully easy to fall prey to despair in this place.

Ah... Speaking of which, I will take your lamentations seriously if you seem to be in danger. Worry not, I shan't be far!

Please.

[House rolls his eyes at the idea that something like that could offend him, but doesn't comment further.]

And I doubt I'll be in any real danger, but thanks, pal. That sure means a lot.

[His tone may indicate that it means less than 'a lot.']

[Haurchefant catches the note of bitterness but continues to smile.]

Your binds, do they feel like they will hold?

[House tests them, giving a few good yanks.]

Yep. We're good. Take my cane just in case, though. Adrenaline does funny things to us punny humans when we get scared.

[Haurchefant stoops and grabs the cane.]

Be well.

[And with that he hesitates a moment then leaves.]

[House's tablet is taped to his chest, facing outward toward the morgue. It's been on for some time now, and it's nearly lockdown, just a few more minutes to go. Panic is beginning to overwhelm him in spite of his best efforts to meditate.]

Somebody talk, sing, I don't care what the hell you do, but make noise.

[He sounds breathless, and he's tugging at his bonds where he's tied up.]

Christ! I need to get out of here. I need to get out!

Edited 2016-01-19 02:00 (UTC)

[Clayton finds this transmission late--too late to do anything about it, too late to really have a coherent reaction at first. He just goes a little pale and quietly waits for everyone to finish with the bathroom before he walks in, closes the door, sits on the edge of the shower. Takes a deep breath. Unmutes his side of the tablet.]

...Somebody still in the hospital with ya, House?

[It's past lockdown now and the violent urge to rip himself away and get the hell out of this place has subsided marginally. His voice is just a little calmer when he speaks this time to reply.]

Greystone - the elf and the half-pint. Upstairs. Told 'em not to come down whatever I said. So that was an exciting near panic attack.

Heart rate's still elevated. Came down a while ago. Need to escape peaked just before lockdown, still present, but way less annoying. Still a sense of urgency and low-level adrenaline. Probably something they're pumping in or what's left of it dissipating.

[Clinical, a description of his current condition. He's expecting Clayton to go into something emotional, but better to get what's actually relevant out of the way first.]

Edited (i can type) 2016-01-20 03:58 (UTC)

[It's not emotional yet, but it's rapidly about to be and it's already pretty clear that Clayton has no investment in what House is telling him right now. He responds almost immediately with an urgent edge to his voice: ]

--Can either of 'em still get to ya? They tied up somewhere else in the hospital, 'r get through the stairwell, or...?

You realize what happens when it gets past lockdown, right? I mean, you've been here longer and everything.

What time is it, anyway? [It feels like forever.]

[And now's the part where Clayton gets emotional. His voice wavers, on the verge of a desperate sob.]

No no no, they gotta--it's all one buildin', there's gotta be a way in. I can talk t' Archie, get 'em to...get 'em t' try the door. It ain't too late fer that. You can tie yerself up somewhere else, it'll be fine.

[The sudden shift to that much emotion raises alarms. His own voice remains as it had been, though there's a note of suspicion now.]

The doors between levels lock at night. Stairwell's inaccessible and the vents are too small for anyone to get through. I'm going to guess you're about to tell me I'm gonna die.

You know for sure? If so, how?

[Interrogating him for straightforward answers isn't going to work anymore, as the moment the words "I'm gonna die" leave House's mouth the dam breaks. Clayton wails with grief, something incoherent, and from there he's a mess of gasps and weeping.]

Oh God, I...R-Rydia's dead. She 'n Beckett--locked in the--in the morgue--Beckett heard 'er screamin', an'... [He trails off, but only because he's winding up for another sob.] ...I didn't...Lord, I didn't know! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry! Oh, what've I done, what've I done...

[Well, this is... awkward. Grown men sobbing usually is unless there's physical pain involved.]

Pull yourself together, Epps.

[Internally, he's beginning to panic again, searching for some other avenue, a way out they hadn't considered. But there's nothing. He knows there's nothing. House takes a deep breath, forces himself to accept it, and closes his eyes as he pulls himself together before going on. His voice is absolutely level.]

If I die, I die. Remind the elf he owes me fifty bucks if I get more than two people cheering on the obituary. I'm betting Angelcakes and Rhysie, personally.

[Enoch had thought nothing of Clayton making his way to the bathroom at first, and had gone back to his uneasy sleep. Drifting in and out of aborted nightmares, heavier and heavier with exhaustion slowly beating the fear they bring, he's suddenly coaxed awake by a wail from the bathroom.

Leaving his backpack on the floor, he stumbles his way through the dark room until he hits the bathroom door. He knocks on it, as if he hadn't just walked right into it.]

Clayton? [he tries to balance volume with consideration with exhaustion. He doesn't know if his voice is audible on the other side.]

Edited (forgot subject line <_<) 2016-02-12 02:01 (UTC)

[Clayton is having more trouble pulling himself together; the only thing that manages to get him to stifle his crying and lower his voice a little is the fact that Enoch's at the door, as he really, desperately doesn't want to get the rest of the clinic involved. God, they don't need to see this, not after learning what happened to Rydia. He ignores Enoch in order to control his breathing, fist over his mouth, but mostly only succeeds in hyperventilating a bit quieter.]

Naw, naw--n-nobody deserves this. Ain't nobody. You deserve so much better, all y'all d-deserve... [He briefly chokes on his own words.] ...God, I'm sorry. I shoulda known. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry...

[log] I Walk On the Wild Side [closed]

All Tied Up [closed to House and Haurchefant]

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And Nowhere to Go [network; @hotstud_xxx; video]

voice - @claytonator

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action threadjack

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