the_islands_rpg Resurrection Island Application
YOUR CHARACTER:
Real Name: Gregory House (mostly goes by House)
Codename: (if applicable)
Other Aliases: (Example: nicknames, fake names, online handles)
Occupation: Doctor. Head of Diagnostics Medicine, also Necrologist
Citizenship: American
Place of Birth: Michigan, USA
Birthdate: 12-21-59
Deathdate: 6-11-14 (randomly pulled out of the air)
World of Origin: House, MD
Marital/Relationship Status: Single
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Known Relatives: Parents John and Dorothy House
Known Confidantes: Dr James Wilson (Head of Oncology)
Known Allies: Dr James Wilson, Dr Lisa Cuddy (Dean of Medicine), Dr
Allison Cameron (Immunologist, works under him in Diagnostics)
Major Enemies: Himself
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 160ish
Hair: dark brown with some grey
Eyes: bright blue
Skin: pale
Other distinguishing Features: Won't he be surprised to wake up and
find out his leg isn't horribly disfigured? None, really, since his
scars will be gone
Fighting Skills: Before the infarction, he was athletically fit, so
I'd say swift and accurate in a fight.
Other Skills: Brilliant mind, can think his way through most anything.
Has taught himself several languages by reading and listening to
music
Powers: None
Do they still have there powers?: (Yes or no and why) --
Special Limitations: None, as his leg won't be an issue
Source of Powers: (Mutation, Magical, or Technological) --
Three Items: (What three personal items were in their satchels when
they were resurrected?): His cane, even though he won't need it. he
doesn't know he won't need it. A notebook of personal poetry and music
and other writings, and I don't suppose he could get a piano in there?
Um. I don't know. Er, a small teddy bear that Wilson gave him when he
was in hospital with the infarction.
Personality: (At least a hundred words) Greg is a first class jerk. He
is antisocial, which means he has a terrible bedside manner. He yells
at people quite a lot, and he doesn't tolerate stupidity. He's a
go-getter, and tends to do whatever it takes to get what he wants.
He's snarky and rude, obnoxious and...dedicated. He's loyal to a
fault, when he's loyal at all. He doesn't let many people close to
him, and there are really only two or three people he'd ever lean on.
Quote: "Everybody Lies"
Quirks: Has an intese gaze and will not hesitate to stare someone down.
Hobbies: Before the infarction, he played a lot of sports. Lacrosse,
Tennis, every kind of ball, jogging, golf. Also reads books in the
original languages (even if he doesn't actually know the language),
plays video games, watches soap operas and television dramas, listens
to just about every kind of music, plays piano and guitar, likes to
watch monster truck rallies.
History: (At least two-hundred hundred words) House was one of those
kids who was born old. His mother always said he was "five (or
whatever) going on thirty" He was too smart. He was walking at seven
months, talking in complete sentences at ten months. He excelled at
school, and never had many friends because he spent so much time
alone. He went to school on a full scholarship, and never had less
than an A in any class. (We know from canon he was "already a legend"
when he was an Michigan State grad student).
Music is his first love, though he pursued a career in medicine. He's
drawn to the puzzle of difficult cases, and can treat a patient
without ever seeing the person face to face. he hates talking to
patients as a rule, because "everybody lies" and they never tell him
the important stuff anyway. So he tends to puzzle it out, based on
symptoms and test results.
Several years ago, he suffered intense leg pain that escalated after a
misdiagnosis. He suffered an infarction, or blood clot, in his thigh
that resulted in muscle and tissue death and removal. His girlfriend
authorised a surgery he didn't want, which probably saved his life,
but left him angry and bitter, and dependant on a cane. During his
recovery, Greg taught himself to speak and read fluently in several
different languages. He also pushed everyone he cared about out of his
life except his best friend who refused to give up on him.
Greg is a very determined and head strong individual, as stated in his
personality profile. He usually knows what he wants, and will o
anything to get it.
Death: (It needs to be at least one hundred words. How old were they?
How did they die?) Greg was 54 when he died. Acute Vicodin overdose.
It wasn't intentional. He was having a really really bad day. And took
too many pills. He ended up face down on his bed, and lacked the
strength to roll over. He lay there knowing he was dying. Knowing he
could prevent it, but he was really just so tired of fighting. He'd
fought nearly fourteen years with his leg., and it was getting worse
by the day. He just...gave up.
Sample RP: (Don't need a novel here, about 200 words, give or take
should do it and it needs to be in, the sample also needs to be in
third person past or present tense) [From lj user gotcanewillpoke, as
House was moving to a new town]
The first light of morning had him waking blearily against the sun. He
sat up, raked both hands through his hair and across his face. He
needed a shower, he needed to shave. he needed to eat. He hadn't eaten
since Baltimore, two days earlier, and his stomach rumbled irritably.
He needed to take his medications. He briefly thought about trying to
find a hospital where Wilson didn't work and likely wouldn't have any
connections yet, where he could get a refill on his Vicodin
prescription.
He discounted that thought immediately, but it disturbed him that he'd
thought it at all. He really needed to call Wilson, find out exactly
where he and Aziraphale were living. If he could see Phale anytime
soon. He wasn't sure how much longer he could resist getting his
Vicodin prescription refilled, or taking a hack saw to his leg.
He massaged his thigh for a few minutes, until he felt he could chance
standing. He gripped the cane, swayed a little, and caught his balance
on the back of the bench. His furniture wasn't due to be delivered
until Friday. He couldn't take another two nights on the park bench,
and the floor of his house wasn't any better. He sighed, and resigned
himself to getting a hotel room in town.
He hobbled to his townhouse, his leg throbbing with each step. His
cane echoed off the walls of the empty house, and not for the first
time he wondered what he was thinking when he bought a two story home.
He'd liked the layout, and the area. He backed up to the park, the
city's transportation system was close, the hospital was close, in
case Wilson really did find him a position, assuming he accepted it.
It had parking available for the bike, and he could have his dog. It
was too good to pass up.
His dog. Cash. He shook his head. He didn't want to think about Cash.
He distracted himself by slinging his bag over his shoulder and
tackling the stairs. He needed to shower before he could even consider
going out in public again. The heat of the water felt good, and he
stood under the stream until it went cold. He had no towel, and sat on
the edge of the tub to drip dry.
His second set of clothes were clean enough, and he sat down to slide
down the stairs because that was easier than trying to walk. He
retrieved his cane at the bottom and pulled himself up to head in to
town.
Real Name: Gregory House (mostly goes by House)
Codename: (if applicable)
Other Aliases: (Example: nicknames, fake names, online handles)
Occupation: Doctor. Head of Diagnostics Medicine, also Necrologist
Citizenship: American
Place of Birth: Michigan, USA
Birthdate: 12-21-59
Deathdate: 6-11-14 (randomly pulled out of the air)
World of Origin: House, MD
Marital/Relationship Status: Single
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Known Relatives: Parents John and Dorothy House
Known Confidantes: Dr James Wilson (Head of Oncology)
Known Allies: Dr James Wilson, Dr Lisa Cuddy (Dean of Medicine), Dr
Allison Cameron (Immunologist, works under him in Diagnostics)
Major Enemies: Himself
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 160ish
Hair: dark brown with some grey
Eyes: bright blue
Skin: pale
Other distinguishing Features: Won't he be surprised to wake up and
find out his leg isn't horribly disfigured? None, really, since his
scars will be gone
Fighting Skills: Before the infarction, he was athletically fit, so
I'd say swift and accurate in a fight.
Other Skills: Brilliant mind, can think his way through most anything.
Has taught himself several languages by reading and listening to
music
Powers: None
Do they still have there powers?: (Yes or no and why) --
Special Limitations: None, as his leg won't be an issue
Source of Powers: (Mutation, Magical, or Technological) --
Three Items: (What three personal items were in their satchels when
they were resurrected?): His cane, even though he won't need it. he
doesn't know he won't need it. A notebook of personal poetry and music
and other writings, and I don't suppose he could get a piano in there?
Um. I don't know. Er, a small teddy bear that Wilson gave him when he
was in hospital with the infarction.
Personality: (At least a hundred words) Greg is a first class jerk. He
is antisocial, which means he has a terrible bedside manner. He yells
at people quite a lot, and he doesn't tolerate stupidity. He's a
go-getter, and tends to do whatever it takes to get what he wants.
He's snarky and rude, obnoxious and...dedicated. He's loyal to a
fault, when he's loyal at all. He doesn't let many people close to
him, and there are really only two or three people he'd ever lean on.
Quote: "Everybody Lies"
Quirks: Has an intese gaze and will not hesitate to stare someone down.
Hobbies: Before the infarction, he played a lot of sports. Lacrosse,
Tennis, every kind of ball, jogging, golf. Also reads books in the
original languages (even if he doesn't actually know the language),
plays video games, watches soap operas and television dramas, listens
to just about every kind of music, plays piano and guitar, likes to
watch monster truck rallies.
History: (At least two-hundred hundred words) House was one of those
kids who was born old. His mother always said he was "five (or
whatever) going on thirty" He was too smart. He was walking at seven
months, talking in complete sentences at ten months. He excelled at
school, and never had many friends because he spent so much time
alone. He went to school on a full scholarship, and never had less
than an A in any class. (We know from canon he was "already a legend"
when he was an Michigan State grad student).
Music is his first love, though he pursued a career in medicine. He's
drawn to the puzzle of difficult cases, and can treat a patient
without ever seeing the person face to face. he hates talking to
patients as a rule, because "everybody lies" and they never tell him
the important stuff anyway. So he tends to puzzle it out, based on
symptoms and test results.
Several years ago, he suffered intense leg pain that escalated after a
misdiagnosis. He suffered an infarction, or blood clot, in his thigh
that resulted in muscle and tissue death and removal. His girlfriend
authorised a surgery he didn't want, which probably saved his life,
but left him angry and bitter, and dependant on a cane. During his
recovery, Greg taught himself to speak and read fluently in several
different languages. He also pushed everyone he cared about out of his
life except his best friend who refused to give up on him.
Greg is a very determined and head strong individual, as stated in his
personality profile. He usually knows what he wants, and will o
anything to get it.
Death: (It needs to be at least one hundred words. How old were they?
How did they die?) Greg was 54 when he died. Acute Vicodin overdose.
It wasn't intentional. He was having a really really bad day. And took
too many pills. He ended up face down on his bed, and lacked the
strength to roll over. He lay there knowing he was dying. Knowing he
could prevent it, but he was really just so tired of fighting. He'd
fought nearly fourteen years with his leg., and it was getting worse
by the day. He just...gave up.
Sample RP: (Don't need a novel here, about 200 words, give or take
should do it and it needs to be in, the sample also needs to be in
third person past or present tense) [From lj user gotcanewillpoke, as
House was moving to a new town]
The first light of morning had him waking blearily against the sun. He
sat up, raked both hands through his hair and across his face. He
needed a shower, he needed to shave. he needed to eat. He hadn't eaten
since Baltimore, two days earlier, and his stomach rumbled irritably.
He needed to take his medications. He briefly thought about trying to
find a hospital where Wilson didn't work and likely wouldn't have any
connections yet, where he could get a refill on his Vicodin
prescription.
He discounted that thought immediately, but it disturbed him that he'd
thought it at all. He really needed to call Wilson, find out exactly
where he and Aziraphale were living. If he could see Phale anytime
soon. He wasn't sure how much longer he could resist getting his
Vicodin prescription refilled, or taking a hack saw to his leg.
He massaged his thigh for a few minutes, until he felt he could chance
standing. He gripped the cane, swayed a little, and caught his balance
on the back of the bench. His furniture wasn't due to be delivered
until Friday. He couldn't take another two nights on the park bench,
and the floor of his house wasn't any better. He sighed, and resigned
himself to getting a hotel room in town.
He hobbled to his townhouse, his leg throbbing with each step. His
cane echoed off the walls of the empty house, and not for the first
time he wondered what he was thinking when he bought a two story home.
He'd liked the layout, and the area. He backed up to the park, the
city's transportation system was close, the hospital was close, in
case Wilson really did find him a position, assuming he accepted it.
It had parking available for the bike, and he could have his dog. It
was too good to pass up.
His dog. Cash. He shook his head. He didn't want to think about Cash.
He distracted himself by slinging his bag over his shoulder and
tackling the stairs. He needed to shower before he could even consider
going out in public again. The heat of the water felt good, and he
stood under the stream until it went cold. He had no towel, and sat on
the edge of the tub to drip dry.
His second set of clothes were clean enough, and he sat down to slide
down the stairs because that was easier than trying to walk. He
retrieved his cane at the bottom and pulled himself up to head in to
town.