The tentative knock and call of his name is interesting, particularly as House recognizes the voice. He's sitting in his parlor, charcoal in hand as he works on sketching out a Rube Goldberg-style contraption to light a candle on a thin piece of wood.
"It's open," the doctor calls loudly. "I'm not getting up."
Standing by the door, Will considered turning right around and heading back to his room. House could be a miserable ass, Will could be a rude jerk, everybody was happy.
The thought actually made the ex-profiler chuff in wry amusement. Because really, why should everybody be happy?
Pushing open the door, he stepped in as if he belonged, closing the door behind him and then holding up the bottle and glasses.
"If you think I'm any good at apologies, you are an idiot," he said, referencing a conversation from a few days ago. "But I regret and apologize." House knew what for. "And I bring apology alcohol, that you can drink most of and make me suffer until next month's ration."
He knows enough about House to understand that while the man did pull some very ugly pranks, he tended to stick towards minor inconveniences and frustrations to get his point across.
House just stares at Will for a moment, calculating whether it's a good idea to get drunk with this man. But screw it. Good liquor is good liquor. And if Will wants to hand over his portion of the goods, House isn't going to complain. He lifts his good leg and uses his foot push out the one other little wooden chair he has at the table.
"I assume this means I get to make you watch me drink your apology alcohol." He sets aside his charcoal and drawing and uses a nearby cloth to wipe off his hands.
"So, why exactly are you apologizing?" He knows what for. Why is a more interesting question.
Taking the seat, Will set the container and the cups down on the table, pushing all of it towards House. He could decide whether or not he would share, or genuinely make Will watch him drink his alcohol.
"I shouldn't have dragged you down that ... literal goat path. I'd like to say it was just an oversight, but there was part of me that wanted to make you see."
A part of him that was just frustrated enough to want House to do some of his own damn legwork ... pun regretfully intended.
"I set up an impossible set of circumstances, then got angry with you when you reacted to those circumstances."
House huffs and pours out two glasses because it's tedious to drink alone. One cup gets scooted back to Will. He doesn't say anything for a long moment, just swirls the alcohol before taking a sip. When he responds, House's body language is screaming forced nonchalance as he flicks a hand dismissively and looks away.
"That guy was an idiot. But I bribed the wife with some coin on the way back. You're free to go back and chat with Phil the goat-screwer whenever you want." Is his name Phil? It's something like that.
For a brief moment, Will considered calling House out on the unflattering statements about Philo and his wife. But this was supposed to be an apology, and House would just dig in deeper on the subject. At least to Will's face.
He decided to take the fact that House had tried to make amends through actions and leave it at that.
"I'll give it some time," he said quietly, reaching to take the cup. "Go back when they're missing the coin I brought with me. He's only one contact among the herdsmen I've cultivated."
Will sounds about as thrilled as one would expect with the idea of 'cultivating' relationships. It really was not his thing, but he was trained for it and had been employing that training since he arrived.
"How's being sociable working out for you?" House asks, looking back toward Will now that the awkward apology phase of this encounter seems to be over. "Feeling all warm and fuzzy now that you're getting out more amongst the people?"
Cuddy and Wilson had been convinced House's rough edges would smooth if he had to deal with people regularly in the clinic. Maybe they were right to an extent, but House knows his own edges. They might have been dulled a little, but he's still sharp, abrasive, and far more likely to rip someone open than anything else.
"Sounds like torture." So better Will than House. He has that whole experience with torture thing going for him. But their brief encounter with Philo probably makes it abundantly clear why the ex-profiler is far more suited to that work on a number of levels.
"Antidote I've been working on isn't working, by the way. Tested it on one of the horses Crawley's looking after a few days ago. Didn't calm her down, didn't seem to do much of anything. She's got a bite on her back leg, too. It's healing a lot slower than it should be." He says this all casually, but the undercurrent of frustration is there to be seen. "We don't know how they're getting infected, either. I'm all ears if you've got any ideas. Some of the animals don't have apparent injuries. Nothing really telling on the bodies we've pulled in as far as parasites. I was thinking something carried by mosquitoes, but that's almost impossible to test for with the equipment we have available."
Sitting back in the chair, Will sprawled with a distinct lack of grace. However, his expression was intense, eyes dancing as he scanned through the information they had, somewhere in his mind's eye.
"Your antidote is made of 'mortal' ingredients?" It's a question, and not a question at the same time. "Strong evidence points to this having some sort of ..." Will's fingers danced as he struggled with a good word, finally settling on, "supernatural element."
He looked as disquieted to be saying such a thing as perhaps House was to hear it.
"If that is the case, then I don't know that we'll get much value out of considering the usual suspects," such as mosquitos and parasites. "Not to say we shouldn't rule those out, if we can but we might get more value out of hitting up some of the doom criers. See what stories they tell?"
"I think we both know how it's gonna go if I hit up the doom-criers." He raises his brows and smirks. Even knowing what he does about the gods, even having 'magical' powers, himself, House would feel compelled to argue with them, point out the logical flaws. Play devil's--or Titan's--advocate. It probably would end in him getting slugged, or the doom-criers just stalking away. But it would be incredibly entertaining for House for a short while, admittedly.
He takes another sip of the alcohol. "I've been looking at the 'magical' properties of plants and talking to one of the new girls who knows about 'em. Circe. Like, the witch in The Odyssey Circe. This place is seriously screwed up."
"Did you bring the drinks for me to throw at you?" Honestly. House does his best not to smile. Will isn't a friend, but he's reminded a little bit of that excursion months ago now, and the stop at the baths when they'd finished. That had been... fun isn't quite the word for it. Interesting, certainly. Enjoyable? Well. As enjoyable as that sort of thing ever is for him. This conversation hasn't devolved into sniping, yet, either, which is impressive for them.
"If you wanna get technical, she's a Titan-send. Big, burning guy in the sky's her daddy. I'm just wondering what that's supposed to mean. And if we can use that to our advantage. Pretty sure she's technically a Titan. Wonder if that makes her immune to them somehow, or if they'll go easier on her."
"That would be a tragic waste of hard earned alcohol," Will pointed out, the corners of his lips twitching upwards in a small grin that briefly reached his eyes.
The lack of sniping is something of a rarity between them. Perhaps the crisis with Philo and his family, combined with an olive branch now, may have settled some of the initial tensions.
"Does she have any of her powers here?" He hadn't met the woman in question, hence the question. "I mean, aside from whatever she was given by the patron of her House."
"I've got addiction on my resume. Why not alcohol abuse?"
He does have to think for a moment, pondering whether Circe mentioned her abilities being lost. "She didn't say anything about her powers, but I'm assuming they're gone like everyone else's. I can double-check with her, but it'd be witchcraft-potions type stuff if she does have 'em. I invited her to work in the apothecary. Figure we could use the expertise... and the eye-candy. She's a smokin' red-head."
"Do me a favor," he asked in a conversational tone. "Let me be present when you use the term 'eye-candy' in front of her. I'm curious to see if she goes for breaking your nose or a more personal shot."
Because House ... House.
"Holistic knowledge, especially of what's available here and now, is almost as vital as our god gifted powers. Between you, her, Adam and Snape we might be able to cobble together a decent stockpile of medicines."
"Doubt she'd even know what it meant. Or if it was an insult." One of the tragedies of these people being from all different universes and times is that they really don't understand modern slang or references. "Anyway, it's a compliment. Arthur's eye-candy for any of the girls who come in. It's why he's the secretary." Really, he knows a few people who might slap him for comments like this. Which is a tragedy. He does love winding Cuddy up.
"Also, I think you mean between Pierson and Snape. Those guys seriously run themselves ragged. Not healthy." So sayeth Gregory House, the picture of rude health. And rudeness, in general, but that's another matter.
Though he suspects that House would still get punched, on general principle, he looks ready to argue the idea of Arthur as eye-candy. The man doesn't do it for him, unless one counted 'immediately engage need to squabble'.
"I think I mean exactly who I said," Will remarked, blatantly ignoring House's attempt to be difficult. He was here to drink and apologize. The former he could do while arguing but to manage the latter he needed to avoid the bait.
House makes note of that sour expression when he mentions Arthur. Well, the guy's a dick and so is Will. Sometimes dicks work together, other times... Dicks will be dicks.
"I'm just a lowly pharmacy tech. Don't count on me for anything, boss." The lowest of the low. "Oh, but hey, check it, talking of Pierson, I got him to show me how to do pants with a long piece of cloth. If you're ever sick of the breeze down under feel."
Will's expression said all that needed to be said about the 'lowly pharmacy tech' shtick, but he didn't chase any further down that particular rabbit hole.
Instead, he did look intrigued by the idea of actual 'pants' or even just a pair of shorts to wear under the tunic folds.
"Does it involve needlework, or is it more folding with strategically placed knots?"
"Definitely folding. In my room, there's a cloth on the bed. Go grab it. And try to block out the spidey senses while you're doing it. I don't need you knowing where all my hidey holes are." He makes a shooing motion to Will. If the other man wants to see, he'll help fetch.
House has his brace on and decides to take that off for this demonstration.
"Not my fault you already advertised where they are," Will muttered with a small roll of his eyes as he set his empty cup down and got to his feet. However, the amount of time it takes him to return with the cloth suggests he was a good boy and didn't go snooping.
Re-taking his seat, he held the cloth out towards House.
"Nothing in his house is clean." He smirks at the other man. But really, it's clean enough. House stands up and takes the cloth. "There're a couple other items you wanna get to make them more likely stay on, but the basics..."
He lifts up his tunica and wraps the thing around him, making a skirt out of it. Next, he reaches between his legs to pull the back up to the front. From here, there's more tucking and adjusting. The process takes about a minute and a half before he's got some Bedouin-inspired pants going. "You can tie here, here and here to keep 'em up. And a thin belt keeps this part from falling back down when you need to run or ride a horse. Fibula can go here and here to keep it all anchored, too. Fibula being the Roman version of a safety pin."
Making a face, and surreptitiously wiping his hand on his tunic, Will watched the display. It was not unlike how he had taken to tying his subligaculum, just with a larger piece of cloth and a few more adjustments.
Still, he struggled a bit when the final product fluttered around House's legs. He understood the style, especially coming from Pierson, but he couldn't help his next comment.
"The 80s were an extremely underappreciated decade." His young adult years were in the 80s! "Pac-Man was released. The first Rubik's cube. Lennon was murdered. E.T. MS-DOS. "Thriller" came out. The Beirut embassy bombing. I will figure out a parody for "We Didn't Start the Fire," Graham Cracker. Don't test me."
You have been warned, Will!
House sits back down and takes up his cup again, leaving the pants in place. "They're more comfortable with my brace, at least. And I never liked wearing skirts, personally."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rubikscomplex) wrote2018-04-29 09:06 pm
no subject
"It's open," the doctor calls loudly. "I'm not getting up."
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The thought actually made the ex-profiler chuff in wry amusement. Because really, why should everybody be happy?
Pushing open the door, he stepped in as if he belonged, closing the door behind him and then holding up the bottle and glasses.
"If you think I'm any good at apologies, you are an idiot," he said, referencing a conversation from a few days ago. "But I regret and apologize." House knew what for. "And I bring apology alcohol, that you can drink most of and make me suffer until next month's ration."
He knows enough about House to understand that while the man did pull some very ugly pranks, he tended to stick towards minor inconveniences and frustrations to get his point across.
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"I assume this means I get to make you watch me drink your apology alcohol." He sets aside his charcoal and drawing and uses a nearby cloth to wipe off his hands.
"So, why exactly are you apologizing?" He knows what for. Why is a more interesting question.
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"I shouldn't have dragged you down that ... literal goat path. I'd like to say it was just an oversight, but there was part of me that wanted to make you see."
A part of him that was just frustrated enough to want House to do some of his own damn legwork ... pun regretfully intended.
"I set up an impossible set of circumstances, then got angry with you when you reacted to those circumstances."
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"That guy was an idiot. But I bribed the wife with some coin on the way back. You're free to go back and chat with Phil the goat-screwer whenever you want." Is his name Phil? It's something like that.
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He decided to take the fact that House had tried to make amends through actions and leave it at that.
"I'll give it some time," he said quietly, reaching to take the cup. "Go back when they're missing the coin I brought with me. He's only one contact among the herdsmen I've cultivated."
Will sounds about as thrilled as one would expect with the idea of 'cultivating' relationships. It really was not his thing, but he was trained for it and had been employing that training since he arrived.
no subject
Cuddy and Wilson had been convinced House's rough edges would smooth if he had to deal with people regularly in the clinic. Maybe they were right to an extent, but House knows his own edges. They might have been dulled a little, but he's still sharp, abrasive, and far more likely to rip someone open than anything else.
no subject
Eventually he lifted the cup to his lips, paused with it resting against his lower lip and his eyes focused on the contents within.
"I do what it takes to get the job done," was his short answer before he tossed back the entire contents of the cup.
cw: mention of torture/mental and physical abuse
"Antidote I've been working on isn't working, by the way. Tested it on one of the horses Crawley's looking after a few days ago. Didn't calm her down, didn't seem to do much of anything. She's got a bite on her back leg, too. It's healing a lot slower than it should be." He says this all casually, but the undercurrent of frustration is there to be seen. "We don't know how they're getting infected, either. I'm all ears if you've got any ideas. Some of the animals don't have apparent injuries. Nothing really telling on the bodies we've pulled in as far as parasites. I was thinking something carried by mosquitoes, but that's almost impossible to test for with the equipment we have available."
cw: mention of torture/mental and physical abuse
"Your antidote is made of 'mortal' ingredients?" It's a question, and not a question at the same time. "Strong evidence points to this having some sort of ..." Will's fingers danced as he struggled with a good word, finally settling on, "supernatural element."
He looked as disquieted to be saying such a thing as perhaps House was to hear it.
"If that is the case, then I don't know that we'll get much value out of considering the usual suspects," such as mosquitos and parasites. "Not to say we shouldn't rule those out, if we can but we might get more value out of hitting up some of the doom criers. See what stories they tell?"
no subject
He takes another sip of the alcohol. "I've been looking at the 'magical' properties of plants and talking to one of the new girls who knows about 'em. Circe. Like, the witch in The Odyssey Circe. This place is seriously screwed up."
no subject
Talk about fish out of water.
"This Circe was probably a god send," wait for it. "Pun unintended."
no subject
"If you wanna get technical, she's a Titan-send. Big, burning guy in the sky's her daddy. I'm just wondering what that's supposed to mean. And if we can use that to our advantage. Pretty sure she's technically a Titan. Wonder if that makes her immune to them somehow, or if they'll go easier on her."
no subject
The lack of sniping is something of a rarity between them. Perhaps the crisis with Philo and his family, combined with an olive branch now, may have settled some of the initial tensions.
"Does she have any of her powers here?" He hadn't met the woman in question, hence the question. "I mean, aside from whatever she was given by the patron of her House."
cw: mentions of addiction/alcoholism
He does have to think for a moment, pondering whether Circe mentioned her abilities being lost. "She didn't say anything about her powers, but I'm assuming they're gone like everyone else's. I can double-check with her, but it'd be witchcraft-potions type stuff if she does have 'em. I invited her to work in the apothecary. Figure we could use the expertise... and the eye-candy. She's a smokin' red-head."
no subject
"Do me a favor," he asked in a conversational tone. "Let me be present when you use the term 'eye-candy' in front of her. I'm curious to see if she goes for breaking your nose or a more personal shot."
Because House ... House.
"Holistic knowledge, especially of what's available here and now, is almost as vital as our god gifted powers. Between you, her, Adam and Snape we might be able to cobble together a decent stockpile of medicines."
cw: sexist remarks
"Also, I think you mean between Pierson and Snape. Those guys seriously run themselves ragged. Not healthy." So sayeth Gregory House, the picture of rude health. And rudeness, in general, but that's another matter.
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"I think I mean exactly who I said," Will remarked, blatantly ignoring House's attempt to be difficult. He was here to drink and apologize. The former he could do while arguing but to manage the latter he needed to avoid the bait.
no subject
"I'm just a lowly pharmacy tech. Don't count on me for anything, boss." The lowest of the low. "Oh, but hey, check it, talking of Pierson, I got him to show me how to do pants with a long piece of cloth. If you're ever sick of the breeze down under feel."
no subject
Instead, he did look intrigued by the idea of actual 'pants' or even just a pair of shorts to wear under the tunic folds.
"Does it involve needlework, or is it more folding with strategically placed knots?"
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House has his brace on and decides to take that off for this demonstration.
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Re-taking his seat, he held the cloth out towards House.
"I'm assuming this is at least, clean."
no subject
He lifts up his tunica and wraps the thing around him, making a skirt out of it. Next, he reaches between his legs to pull the back up to the front. From here, there's more tucking and adjusting. The process takes about a minute and a half before he's got some Bedouin-inspired pants going. "You can tie here, here and here to keep 'em up. And a thin belt keeps this part from falling back down when you need to run or ride a horse. Fibula can go here and here to keep it all anchored, too. Fibula being the Roman version of a safety pin."
no subject
Still, he struggled a bit when the final product fluttered around House's legs. He understood the style, especially coming from Pierson, but he couldn't help his next comment.
"I'm having a flashback to the eighties."
no subject
"The 80s were an extremely underappreciated decade." His young adult years were in the 80s! "Pac-Man was released. The first Rubik's cube. Lennon was murdered. E.T. MS-DOS. "Thriller" came out. The Beirut embassy bombing. I will figure out a parody for "We Didn't Start the Fire," Graham Cracker. Don't test me."
You have been warned, Will!
House sits back down and takes up his cup again, leaving the pants in place. "They're more comfortable with my brace, at least. And I never liked wearing skirts, personally."
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