forget your troubles, come on, get happy

[stateofatrophy]

Who: House and YOU
What: Arriving at the castle
When: Today!
Where: The clinic first and later wandering the castle. In your tag, let me know where we're at!
Notes: Actionspam welcome if you prefer

Comments

[longaevus]

"Ah, you're awake." Helen had checked his vitals when she'd seen him appear, glad that he'd 'fallen in' on one of the beds rather than another place in the clinic. His pulse had been steady with everything else seemingly normal - he was asleep. Helen had left him be, continuing to compare the notes that she'd taken from Daisy's autopsy of the creature to hers from the previous day.

She finished what she was writing before saying anything more, placing her pen on top of the papers. It had been a little while since she'd 'welcomed' anyone and this was her first time doing so in person.

"You're neither dreaming nor hallucinating." She'd heard many others question that in the past - even she'd assumed it herself (along with many other things). "In fact everything here is quite real." Impossibly so.

[stateofatrophy]

"Of course, it is." That he was delirious did not make what was happening any less real. He was experiencing it after all. Also, "If it were only a dream, Cuddy would be here in a cheerleading outfit."

Strange, though, that he could not place this woman. The faces of those dreamed were the faces of those encountered in real life, even if just for a second. The brain was not imaginative enough to create a face from nothing. But he had no idea who she was. And he usually had a great eye for faces.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, pulling out his bottle of Vicodin as he did so. He dropped two of the pills into his palm and raised them to his mouth. After he swallowed them, he looked around.

"Wouldn't happen to have seen my cane, have you?"

[longaevus]

Well, this was going wonderfully. Already she knew a little more than she'd have liked to and it seemed he was already planning on leaving - she hadn't even managed to get to 'Paradisa' yet.

"That one?" Helen pointed to the one leaning against the cabinet behind him. She'd assumed that it was his, given that she hadn't noticed it before he'd arrived and had picked it up after checking on him, standing it against the cabinet for when he awoke.

"You've been brought to a place known as Cair Paradisa, or Paradisa if you're simply referring to the castle itself." She stood from the desk she'd been working at, crossing the room towards the cane and picking it up, although not yet finishing the walk to hand it to him. "No one's entirely certain as to how that's occurred, despite much speculation."

[stateofatrophy]

He held out his hand for the cane until it was apparent she wasn't going to hand it over yet. Instead, using his arms as both support and balance, he stood up. He shifted his weight away from his bad leg, keeping one hand on a nearby chair to keep himself steady. He turned around enough to pick up the journal and wave it at her.

"So I gathered. Informative little thing. You might want to think about setting up an index, though. It's a bit of information overload at the moment. Not to mention most people can't be bothered to read more than a paragraph at a time."

Clinic!

[save_the_souls]

Allen was in the clinic, gathering supplies. The expedition had caused him to use some of his emergency supplies to take care of the various injuries people had acquired. He didn't trust asking the castle directly for medical supplies, because honestly- he didn't think the castle had their well being in mind.

So there he was, digging through a drawer that kept the bandages and searching for ones that he was running low on- with a bag to his side. He's currently oblivious to House's sudden appearance, because that's how Allen rolls.

I apologize for nothing

[stateofatrophy]

As he sat up on the bed, House looked over to the source of the rustling. Normally, he would care about someone stealing clinic supplies as much as a hooker cares for flowers, but these were his imagined drawers being rifled through by someone he was imagining, which felt like an invasion of privacy on some level.

Picking up his cane, he quietly takes aim and jabs it right into the back of Allen's knee.

"If you're going to steal something, the good stuff is in the first drawer. Rest is almost worthless in the streets."

you never do!

[save_the_souls]

The jab hits and his leg crumples out from under him, causing him to fall and crash into the drawers as he grabs onto them. He glances back in surprise.

"H-huh?!"

maybe I should start. ...nah

[stateofatrophy]

House passively watches the chaos his little poke provoked. From what he sees, he's unimpressed. He would have hoped his brain would come up with more interesting characters to interact with in his delirium. Like Brooke Hogan

Lobby

[modernholmes]

Conan had been sitting in the corner of the lobby in his favorite chair. Not because it was comfortable. But because it afforded him a view of everyone walking through the lobby without exposing his back to anyone.

He sits there observing the crowd passing through the lobby even as he applies his thoughts to the recent changes in the situation. But to anyone watching, he is nothing more than a small boy sitting in a chair too big for him with an expression in unchild-like seriousness on his face.

When the man with the limp enters the room he blinks and sits up slightly in interest. That was not a face he recognized. Another new arrival?

[stateofatrophy]

House had been cataloguing what he saw as he walked. So far, he wanted to find whoever designed the place and hang them up by their ankles. This mix-and-match thing from different eras was doing terrible things to his aesthetes. Leaning heavily on his cane while he glanced up the ceiling, he noticed Conan's movement out of the corner of his eye.

Wonderful. There were children here. His mind was a cruel, cruel place to torment him with children on top of continued leg pain. There was not enough Vicodin in the world. Speaking of Vicodin, he pulled the bottle from his pocket. Just three left. At the rate his day was going, he expected to end up with sugar pills if he just "wished" for them.

[modernholmes]

The boy slides onto the floor and approaches the man, all wide eyes and purposefully childish movements.

"Ne ne! Did you just arrive here recently? I don't think I've seen you around before."

[stateofatrophy]

Wonderful. The kid. At least children are preferable to adults most of the time.

"That's because you haven't. Won't your parents scold you for talking to a stranger?"

CLINIC PARTY YEAH

[buysmilk]

"Morning." John smiles something that could easily be confused with a bitter smile as he shifts through one of the medicine draws, making a mental note of where everything is and what exactly the clinic is equipped with. He figured he should get acquainted with it, considering he plans on spending some of his time in here. He's still a doctor, coma hallucination or no, and he doesn't plan on letting his skills go to waste.

Besides, he needs somewhere to go when he isn't up to dealing with Sherlock.

PARTY HARD

[stateofatrophy]

Brilliant plan, John. Escape from coma hallucinating Sherlock to hang out with coma hallucinating House. This will do wonders for your mental health.

House looks up at the greeting. "Is it? Pretty sure it's my afternoon nap I was taking."

AWW YEAH

[buysmilk]

It probably won't make much of a difference, but whatever at least it'll give him a break... sort of. He doesn't answer straight away, absently listing off painkillers and antibiotics, a few moments later he closes that draw and glance over at him; as if suddenly remembering the other's existence.

"Napping in the clinic? Great plan, that, nothing could go wrong." Nevermind that he's also done that once... the circumstances were different though. Probably.

B)

[stateofatrophy]

House shrugs. "Best hiding spot. No one thinks to look in the clinic for someone hiding from clinic duty."

At least until Cuddy got smart and figured it out. Thus precipitating his keeping comatose patients company.

House, meet anti-House!

[ectobabble]

Ray's on his way in to get some more aspirin - the egg on his head that was almost a concussion is nearly gone, now, but every now and then, it still hurts. He makes a beeline for the cabinet, and stops when he sees the new face out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh, hi there! You new here?"

This is House running away. If he could run.

[stateofatrophy]

"Unfortunately." House just arches an eyebrow and keeps his answer short. What is this cheerfulness? Take it away.

This is me pointing and laughing, har har.

[ectobabble]

"It's a lot to get used to at first, yeah." Ray shrugs a little - it is what it is, after all. Crazy Magic Castle? Ain't no thang. Whatever part of House's comatose psyche he represents, he's damn persistent.

"I'm Ray, nice to meet'cha. Welcome to Paradisa!" And with that, he'll amble over and offer a hand.

B|

[stateofatrophy]

House shudders to consider his psyche would ever come up with someone like Ray.

"Greg House. You're always this cheerful, aren't you." It's not a question.