The bad man, the sad man
When; Thursday, Sept. 6. Evening
Rating; PG-13+ (Adult Language)
Characters; Nicholas Brocklehurst (
razrsharp), Dr. House (
vicodincrutch) and Christopher Styles (
under_secretary)
Summary; Life in the City is not a dream, a very unhappy doctor finds out. He gets a drink out of it at least.
Greg House took his time getting everywhere. It was difficult not to, but that was not something he shared in words. The cane and walk spoke for him and in truth he never left early to be punctual unless it was serious a very good case or fulfillment of a bet. There were people in the streets of different appearances, beautiful and ugly, outrageous and plain. Few wheelchairs, few canes.
The sky was growing dark slowly, sunlight was still present but the streetlights were flickering on. This would be close to marking the end of day two of his incredible journey. "What a joke,' he grumbled to himself, finding no reason to smile at his second absence from Princeton-Plainsborough Teaching Hospital. This place, this city was not a dream.
He could read. Why didn't he think of it before? So simple and damn frustrating. Empirical thinking always was shit, but when it was the last resort... Dr. House paused and sighed leaning on the brick side of a building. For a moment, his cane twirled idly like a baton. There had to be a way of explaining this. He hated it. Resuming stride he thought on why a stranger would be willing to give him alcohol. Greg knew he wasn't going to refuse one way or another, but he did wonder and limped further to his destination.
Rating; PG-13+ (Adult Language)
Characters; Nicholas Brocklehurst (
razrsharp), Dr. House (
vicodincrutch) and Christopher Styles (
under_secretary)
Summary; Life in the City is not a dream, a very unhappy doctor finds out. He gets a drink out of it at least.
Greg House took his time getting everywhere. It was difficult not to, but that was not something he shared in words. The cane and walk spoke for him and in truth he never left early to be punctual unless it was serious a very good case or fulfillment of a bet. There were people in the streets of different appearances, beautiful and ugly, outrageous and plain. Few wheelchairs, few canes.
The sky was growing dark slowly, sunlight was still present but the streetlights were flickering on. This would be close to marking the end of day two of his incredible journey. "What a joke,' he grumbled to himself, finding no reason to smile at his second absence from Princeton-Plainsborough Teaching Hospital. This place, this city was not a dream.
He could read. Why didn't he think of it before? So simple and damn frustrating. Empirical thinking always was shit, but when it was the last resort... Dr. House paused and sighed leaning on the brick side of a building. For a moment, his cane twirled idly like a baton. There had to be a way of explaining this. He hated it. Resuming stride he thought on why a stranger would be willing to give him alcohol. Greg knew he wasn't going to refuse one way or another, but he did wonder and limped further to his destination.