londoncallingrpg | Entries tagged with greg house

It was the best time of year. The air was becoming crisp and it was in fashion to break out the jumpers and boots. Pippa had a long Aran sweater with chunk, fat cables that came down over her bum. To go with the lovely cream colour she had chosen brown leggings and finished the look off with knee high boots of a slightly lighter brown. She had her hair up in a messy bun.But the crowning accessory was the Starbucks cup that held the most precious of things.

Pumpkin Spice Latte.

She had her drink in one hand and her mobile in the other as she scrolled through Pintrest, looking, still, at decor ideas. Fin's remodel had given her ideas for her own flat. Not a full remodel, no, but it wouldn't hurt to update a few things. Maybe get a little crafty and build some shelves.

And then Pip stopped on the sidewalk near a tube stop and reflected on herself.

Oh, God...I'm so basic she thought. It was just a moment of self doubt. But then she sipped her drink and realized she didn't give a fuck what anyone thought of how she chose to enjoy autumn. Jumpers were good and PSL was delicious. And if anyone had anything to say about it she'd turn them into a toad. That thought made her smile. Yes, she was sure she could manage turning someone into a toad.

"I'm so terribly sorry," said a woman who had to be seventy or more. "Is this the train to Piccadilly?"

Pippa had no idea so she called up the map on her phone and helped the woman find her way. It was a small act of kindness that left her smiling even as the woman descended the stairs. All thoughts of turning people into toads vanished and just a tiny bit of magic escaped her control, perfuming the air with pumpkin spice and making hearts lighter as they passed.

(Any tube stop, find Pippa smiling fondly. She's in a good mood and her magic makes that a tiny bit contagious. Open forever)

london_spy

There was a point in Danny's life where he could easily draw a line and say that was the past, and this was the future. Or maybe it was more a matter of what kind of person he was, versus who he could be if he wanted to be something more. Either way, it all boiled down to pre Alex and post Alex. Danny had gone from a life of drugs, drink, and as much debauchery as any human could handle, to a life that was almost domestic and normal. ...Then, of course, there had been post-post Alex. A strange pocket of time spent unraveling mystery after mystery, all while swimming in uncertainty and terror- Like Nancy Drew trapped in some sort of conspiracy theory filled snuff porn.

Life in a post, post Alex world was just chaos, and a sinking feeling of dread that hung about just close enough to always be felt. It had left him an even bigger mess than he'd been before they'd met. Though he supposed it would be odd if he'd somehow come out of it all as a well adjusted, functioning member of society. You don't wade that deep in the government's bullshit and come out better for it. You just didn't.

What had happened with Jack the other week, and the confession from Hex that had followed soon after, had left him on edge all over again. Danny found himself fearing a repeat of everything that had happened with Alex- And though that should have meant he was more vigilant than ever, the hopelessness that had come after learning the truth about the death of last lover lingered on even now, and rather than fight or prepare for war, Danny did what Danny did best. ...He fucked off and got fucked up.

There were certain things you couldn't take when you were on HIV meds. Technically he shouldn't have been taking anything, but if you knew how to walk the tightrope, it wasn't so bad. The blues were fine, powder was alright, but the reds were right out. They'd make him crash hard, and getting your stomach pumped on a Sunday night wasn't anyone's idea of a party. He was buzzing though, two shots of vodka, one of the blues, two lines... Pulse was a bit quick but that was alright, that was fine. Everything was fine.

Everything was great.

He didn't know who was dancing with, but they were warm and they moved just right. They moved exactly right, and Danny was so good at this. He didn't have a single life skill you could put on a bloody resume, but he could do this. He was king of the fucking club scene, darling. He was swagger and lust, and as the bpm got higher, so did he, never missing a single beat.

"You're bloody brilliant," he told his dance partner, leaning in and speaking right in their ear. "Buy me a drink?"

(OTA, late tags and slow time super welcome! Danny is stoned out of his skull, but in a good mood. ...Yay? Feel free to kill his buzz or encourage this wicked behaviour.)

prince_of_nymphs

His new show had finally been announced, and he'd done a small round of press this morning. Radio, mostly. Just little interviews, mostly about his return to telly and the fact that he was starring in the reboot of a classic and beloved show. Nothing taxing, nothing thrilling. Just boring media- The side of the job Fin sort of wished he could skip. He managed to be his charming self though, deflecting when the questions got too personal, all while flirting shamelessly with a few of the interviewers. The public loved that, he'd found, and he wasn't shy about playing it up.

Mid-day found him wandering Covent Garden, two small shopping bags in one hand, Starbucks in the other. He was clean shaven, and his hair was getting a bit ridiculous again, just touching his shoulders as he walked, and occasionally getting in his face when he stopped to peek in shop windows. All and all, a dreadfully normal day. ...At least, it had been.

He'd been having little pains lately, ever since New Years. Nothing dreadful, but... Discomfort that was a bit too familiar. If felt like... It felt like his heart. Though it couldn't be, could it? Not now. not with his enchanted heart and fae blood. It had to be something mundane. Heartburn, perhaps. Something innocent.

That's what he kept telling himself- Even now when the pain returned. It was sudden and sharp, enough that he dropped his shopping and doubled over slightly, holding his chest and panicking a bit. He couldn't go to the hospital, couldn't risk them checking his blood... He had to do something though, and he pulled out his phone. Hand shaking, he wasn't sure which number he'd called. Wasn't even sure he'd managed to make a call.

(OTA- If you're friends with Fin, feel free to assume he called you! He's not well and could have easily called anyone in his contacts. ;) If you don't know Fin or your pup wouldn't be reachable for whatever reason, feel free to simply be in the right place at the right time. LT/ST very welcome. <3)

londoncallingmods

Fin and Will had rented out the entirety of the theatre where Fin had gotten his big break, then brought in staff to deck the pace out in holiday cheer. The centrepiece was a grand looking tree that stood centre stage, with a DJ set up to the left, and Santa to the right, who was taking photos and handing out this year's goodie bags. Some of the seating had been removed to make room for dancing and food, but the balcony remained as it always was, for people to rest and get a good view of the celebrations below.

No expense had been spared, but it was, overall, a causal affair. Those who weren't competing in the ugly jumper contest were asked to dress tidy, but comfortably, so they could enjoy the festivities of the evening. From the music and food, to the affordable bar and little area set up to fill out cards and make donations for the local children's hospital.

Invites had been sent to their friends and loved ones, and inside each invite they'd tucked a few more so their friends could invite their friends also.

All and all, it was set to be a wonderful night.

drfeelbad

"You are American!" the barmaid exclaimed in delight when House sat down and asked for a scotch. "Happy Thanksgiving!"

House arched a brow at her enthusiasm, but then again, one of the reasons he'd come inside was that he'd seen the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade playing on the television above the bar. "Just like home," he said, nodding up at the television. "The crass commercialization designed as holiday spirit just gives me warm fuzzies."

She laughed. "I have pumpkin pie."

"You're shitting me. Really?"

She shrugged. "Used to be married to one of you. He was from Wisconsin. Liked pie."

House pulled out his wallet and took out a fifty pound bill, set it on the bar. "I'm going to sit here and watch the parade. Bring me whatever you like."

She was clearly thrilled about the challenge, because in addition to the pumpkin pie, she started whipping up experimental Thanksgiving-themed cocktails. It was amazing what could be made with cranberry and apple cider. An hour and a half later, House was drinking what she described as a cranberry orange margherita, and on his second piece of pie.

"Happy Thanksgiving!" he yelled to whoever walked in, hearing the tingling of the bells there.

pippa_flynn

"It would just be for a month, two at most. I haven't said yes yet, but- I think I should. I mean, how often am I going to get offers like this, Pip?"

He'd meant to tell Pippa his plan to travel to America over lunch, but things had been going so well, and they'd been having such a nice time of it. He just hadn't wanted to spoil it, and so they were lingering on the pavement, having been about to call for an uber when Fin had blurted out the fact that he'd been offered a small role in a major motion picture.

"A month or two? Fin, that's ridiculous! You can't. America is dangerous. And you know how it is right now with the election and all the shootings. No. No, I'm putting my foot down on this. you can't go," she said. Of course it was fueled by deep concern- she was so protective of Fin- but she dug her heels in on this and it didn't come off as worry, it just came off as bossy.

"I wasn't asking permission," Fin replied flatly. "See, this is why I didn't want to tell you. You always think you know what's best. You always have"

Fin didn't know it, but the sudden spike of anger he felt was enough to make his already wild magic strike out- Not at Pippa, but at the world. Though he wasn't so angry that it did any real damage. ...Instead it simply turned all the traffic lights in a four block radius red.

"It's only because I do know what's best," she huffed, her own magic reacting in response to his, twisting together with Fin's to amplify it. Traffic snarled and even the crossing lights stalled out, too. The wifi in the nearby cafe cut out.

"I'm just worried about you, Fin. This isn't the time for such a big change," she said.

Fin frowned, raking his fingers through his long hair. "Pip... It's not up to you, alright? I'm not asking, I'm just letting you know. I'm thinking I might do it, alright?" he replied, his tone growing sharper.

"This is stupid. Fin, please be rational about this. If nothing else, what about that fae fuck? You'll get sick again!" she insisted.

(Joint post with Fin and Pippa. If you'd prefer to tag just one put the name in your subject line XD)

quartermaster_q

How many times had he been abducted since becoming Quartermaster? Surely more than any before him. Perhaps he'd get some sort of plaque for that.

He would sulk, but on some level he knew this was his fault. He was far too involved with the field work. Far too eager to get involved in things. He should have been safe in his office, but he kept putting himself in danger. He kept getting involved in things he had no reason to get involved in. Sure, this time that hadn't been the case, Jack had grabbed him because he needed help, but still.

He was free now though, and his time with Jack had been- Well, alright, it had been lonely, but Jack had kept him fed and hadn't harmed him. He was okay. He was fine.

So why was his hand shaking?

Well, that was a bit not good, wasn't it? Certainly not something he could allow Six to see. There would be talk of trauma, psych evaluations... All the things Q liked to avoid.

So he was out, at the club, quite drunk, if he was honest. Remarkably drunk, actually. Drunker than he'd ever been before, possibly. His glasses kept threatening to slide off his face completely, and he was dancing. ...Well, if you could call it dancing. Q wasn't exactly graceful really. Slight and awkward, twisting with the music and dancing with anyone brave enough to take him on as a partner. ...and when he wasn't dancing, he was outside, chain smoking. Anything to keep himself calm.

(OTA, find Q on the dance floor or outside.)

prince_of_nymphs

He wasn't terribly musical, if he was honest. He could sing, and he'd written lyrics for Will in the past, but when it came to instruments, he knew little. His piano was poor, his attempts at drumming when he was younger had been a failure, but he could play a bit on the guitar. It was a skill he was attempting to improve as he sat beneath a tree in the park, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he strummed to himself.

Dark sunglasses hid his eyes, and Keats lay nearby, keeping watch as much as he was keeping Fin company. A few stray chords settled into a familiar song, and Fin hummed a bit before removing the cigarette from his lips and starting to sing.

"The door slammed loud and rose up a cloud of dust on us. Footsteps follow, down through the hollow sound, torn up... And you will go to Mykonos, with a vision of a gentle coast, and a sun to maybe dissipate. Shadows of the mess you made..."

He fumbled a bit, swearing under his breath as he strummed a bit more, jumping ahead in the song.

"I remember how they took you down, as the winter turned the meadow brown. You go, wherever you go today..."

He made it through the rest of the verse before fumbling again and starting over, pausing to stub out his cigarette and give it a proper try this time.

pippa_flynn

And so she had become the Forgotten Queen of the Trooping Fae. Her grandfather's passing had come at a price and now she was some sort of royalty she didn't quite understand and Fin had gone blind again. It was nearly too much to take but Pippa was carrying on. What else could she do? The facts were the facts and no amount of fuss would change it. And she'd tried. She had power coursing through her now, all the time she felt it, and she'd tried to restore Fin's sight. It didn't work. Of course not. Why would it?

And then the dumb twit had gone back to stay with his stupid boyfriend. Pippa was outraged about that and she'd told Fin so. And that didn't work, either. Of course not. And so on that front she bit her tongue. Fin knew how she felt. It had little to do with keeping him close and everything to do with keeping him out of the treacherous prince's arms.

Pippa sighed softly and looked at her mobile that had just chirped. He newest client wanting a progress report. She needed something more concrete and so she sat down at the cafe on one of the dwindling nice days of the London summer, and she texted her client back.

It was striking, just how much she looked like Fin. And, of course, she'd been all over the papers thanks to the paps hounding Fin about his drug use and his blindness. The gentleman at the next table actually had a copy of the daily rag and she smiled at the photo on the cover.

If only life could be as dramatic as the paper made it seem. If only being queen meant something...

prince_of_nymphs

Fin knew he shouldn't be looking at social media right now, that nothing good could come of it, but he couldn't help himself. Seeing the cruel comments roll in was painful, and yet he couldn't look away. He let it claw at him, dragging him down until he was even more numb and broken than he had been.

Closing his laptop, he looked around the cafe, glad that no one seemed terribly interested in him. That was the nice thing about London. Most people were too cool to act like they knew you. It allowed for quiet moments, even out in public, with only a few selfie requests or nasty comments here and there. Today was no different, despite the press. A few extra glances his way, more whispers, but for now things seemed alright. Colder, but alright for now. Though he knew it would only get worse.

Packing up his things, he paid for his tea and headed out onto the street, brushing past a young man who looked him over and muttered something about 'nasty perverts'. A comment Fin chose to ignore as he exhaled softly and continued to walk.

quartermaster_q

It had started China, a simple enough mission. It should have stayed there too, but how was Q to know that they'd been followed home? He couldn't have, but as Q hitched his bag up higher onto his shoulder and continued running he couldn't help but wish they'd been more cautious.

He ducked into the first alley he passed, pressing himself against the wall in the shadows, praying his pursuer hadn't seen him slip away. With his back against the wall, he could feel his heart pounding. He wasn't equipped to fight anyone right now, and contacting Bond would be a challenge- Since he'd shattered his phone when he'd first started running. Hiding was his best option, but just as he'd started to feel sure that he'd lost the other man a hand seemed to come out of nowhere, pulling him forward, then slamming him hard against the wall.

The fight was not a thrilling one. Q took quite a beating, and it was only the mace in his pocket that saved him in the end.

Limping and beaten, he hobbled along the street, trying not to draw too much attention as he pulled his hood up to hide his bruised face.

drfeelbad

There were a lot of things that House missed about his old life, and especially his old job. And he never thought that one of those would be the clinic, but somehow this one was even worse. Or maybe the real problem was that he couldn't get out of it nearly as easily as he'd been able to with Cuddy. He'd always been good at avoiding working clinic duty on the weekends, but not so here, at least not today...

On the bright side, at least it wasn't a holiday here. Though he was tempted to wish everyone a happy Independence Day weekend anyway. Nyah nyah we beat you.

In any case, unable to entirely avoid clinic duty all together, today he sat in a chair in one of the examination rooms playing a game on his phone and hoping that maybe no one would come to him. He'd sent a woman with a UTI out ten minutes ago and given her incorrect directions for where to check out, in hopes that the nurses would think she was still in here.

But of course it wouldn't last. He heard the door open and looked up with a long-suffering expression on his face.

drfeelbad

As a general rule, House tried very hard to ignore his birthday, and this year was no exception. Actually, he was even less inclined to celebrate considering that he was in a country that so far he hated along with most of the people in it. To be fair, it wasn't as if he'd liked the people in New Jersey either, but at least there were a handful that he tolerated. There were probably people to tolerate here, he just hadn't met them yet.

He also hadn't quite mastered the art of ordering delivery here. Chinese food he had managed (though it really wasn't the same). Prostitutes, that was something to be more cautious about. But it was his birthday, so he decided to window shop. Worst case, he'd get plastered and take a cab home, which also seemed like a reasonable way to spend the evening.

Thus, he was in a hotel bar. Drinking whiskey and water, and eating a bowl of pistachios. Looking very much alone, and pretty unapproachable, except for the sort of approaching he was hoping for. His cane was leaning against the bar by his stool, and when some asshole kicked it over he was almost relieved because one of the problems with this country was that there weren't enough assholes. Everyone was so damned polite.

But he still grumbled as he leaned over to grab it, and nearly fell off the stool in the process.

Profile

London Calling RPG

September 2017

S	M	T	W	T	F	S
					1	2
3	4	5	6	7	8	9
10	11	12	13	14	15	16
17	18	19	20	21	22	23
24	25	26	27	28	29	30

Syndicate

Page Summary

Style Credit

Base style: Tabula Rasa
Theme: Muted by zvi

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags

Page generated Jun. 29th, 2025 10:43 pm

London Calling RPG

Entries tagged with greg house

OTA

ota

It's About Balance - OTA

Christmas Party! (GP)

Thanksgiving - OTA

OTA Joint post

OTA

ota

OTA

When it rains... OTA

OTA

[Open to All] hospital walk-in clinic

debut, open to all

Profile

September 2017

Syndicate

Most Popular Tags

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags