paradisa | EVENT HORIZON

[ He's not really aware who comes in. He deals with his own monsters by treating the injured. It has become a game: stop the bleeding, close the wound, turn to the next before he slits his patient's throat.

It has worked for several hours now. His stash of Vicodin is all but depleted and his leg is killing him. The others need it more than him. If only he had access to sedatives, they could subdue the rest.

But he doesn't. He doesn't even have enough aspirin for everyone.

House tears more clothing to fashion tourniquets out of them. If this lasts much longer, they're going to start losing limbs. A week is what these changes usually last, don't they? How long has it been? How long--

His leg hurts and he has to stop to massage it. A shuffled step and it almost gives out.

He doesn't notice the woman coming in. ]

Edited 2013-05-07 18:21 (UTC)

[ More than one exit. Knives. Preferably the clinic. Let no one else near. With such a long mantra, she should see this through. Even if that part of her mind is growing quieter by each minute, the other, the jumbled mess, is getting ever louder and soon, she knows, it would not even matter if she does survive. The danger would be in her head already.

Juan chased her down the hallway before, bloated and blue, and she is still shaking in fear when she stumbles into the room. There are so many still alive here, she hasn't been fast enough. She is coming soon.

But a turn of her head has her noticing the man with the cane. This is the one, the very man who started it all. Who ruined her. Her hands might be bloodied, hers and many others', but her grip is steady and her face calm as she reaches for Sforza's shoulder and turn his body so her other hand can swing as far as she can to drive in the knife to the hilt if she can.

She wants his heart. She wants it beating on a dinner plate. ]

[ He grabs her by reflex, gripping her wrist and her shoulder, too stunned to notice yet the knife in his chest. A senseless mantra goes through his head ending in you're gonna piss off the wrong person one day, House in too many voices and all of them distinct.

Stacy's next to them, watching, and she only looks at him knowingly. Stacy's not that cruel—

He only has enough sense to try to get the woman—Lucrezia, Lucrezia Borgia, you were just attacked by a Borgia, House, this is one for the history books—away from him, stumbling back. ]

[ Her expression changes only once the knife slips away from her hand, lodged in his chest, brow furrowing. She wants to carve his heart out for her to see or has he one? Did she just break it?

She lets out a chuckle as she walks toward him again. Her voice is hoars from too much screaming, but she manages a sing-song mutter as she approaches. One hand swings out to shove him back by the shoulder and press her other palm against the hilt. ]

You should learn to count sheep, my lord.

[Allen had been working nearby, he hadn't seen Lucrezia come in at all since he had been so focused on his work, working so hard to ignore everything. ]

[It's not until he hears the sound of House stumbling does he look up. Look up to see his teacher with a knife in his chest, put there by some woman he's never seen before- doesn't recognize.]

[She stabbed his teacher. She killed House. ]

Edited 2013-05-07 23:09 (UTC)

[He had been working so hard to keep calm, to keep his head while people still needed aid. But like that, that facade of calm shatters. The mask he's been putting on for the past year or so breaks apart. All the rage he tried to push away, tried to let go of, it comes boiling out in his blood. The urge of fight come rushing forward. To attack, to get revenge for all the people that's been taken from him]

[He has no idea who this woman is, but she might as well be Riful or Rhode. He wants her down]

[And so anyone else who hasn't seen this scene? Will get the attention very fast with a rageful scream as he lunges after her, intent on tackling her to the ground- on taking her out]

YOU MONSTER! YOU'LL PAY!

Edited 2013-05-07 23:13 (UTC)

[ Lucrezia only has time to turn over her shoulder at the noise, not quite registering the words, when the next thing she feels is the pounding headache as she squints at the ceiling and try to focus on this man's face. Who? Why is he protecting Sforza? A cousin.

She tries to struggle and push him away, shoving her hands against the man's chest, but this must be child's play for him when she no longer has her knife. She wields her screams as a weapon too, crying out in rage that this man has foiled her mission. Kept her from getting what she obviously deserves. ]

[Child's play indeed in a lot of ways. Allen may come across as smaller as many male fighters around the castle, but he was no means weak. Normally he's against fighting against women, but that rule becomes a bit void when they do stuff like kill his teachers. Once she's tackled to the ground, he'll raise his fist and tries punch her across the face. It's a quick but hard hit if it lands- possibly strong enough to knock someone out because Allen hits like a truck]

Edited 2013-05-07 23:43 (UTC)

[ She sees that raised arm but sees no possibility of evading it, only turning her face to the side and squeezing her eyes shut. The pain is momentary, a searing light spreading across her eyes before everything is black and she's out. ]

[Normally it takes much more for his opponents to be stopped. A longer fight, more pain. To have her already pass out, to look so scared right before he hit her- ]

[Even if she had killed his teacher, it makes him sick. Did he just attack an innocent who had been driven mad by this place did he-? ]

[He falls back away from her body, his breathing growing shallow. Was he starting to lose it too? Or was he simply growing this vicious-]

[no no no, she killed house. That's all it was. That's all it was. ]

[He'll instead try to push this all out of his mind for now, and instead force himself to look at where his teacher fell, where Once-ler had gone- to finally face things now that once again, there isn't a great villain to defeat]

[The Once-ler had been half dozing when Lucrezia entered, but that movement brought him fully awake. Just in time to watch her kill House. His brain could even register it properly. Watching that man...the only man who'd ever been anything like a father to him tumble to the ground. He stares, numb at the prone shape on the floor, before looking up at Lucrezia, confused, a little hurt.

...But then Allen's screaming and jumping at her, and House is left on the ground. So, he makes an executive decision. This is going to hurt, but...well, he'll just have to deal with that. He takes a breath, wincing as his chest protests, bracing himself. ...And rolls out of bed onto the floor. He stiles out a cry of pain because yep, that was not smart, well done dumbass. But he's on the floor at least, and can but his stupid long arms to good use to drag himself over to House]

Tell me what to do.

[Oh jesus there's so much blood. He gives House a pleading look. Tell him how to fix this. Please]

[ There is a level of detachment. Maybe it's the surprise. Maybe it's the years he has spent cataloging injuries and conditions in everyone around him. He examines the knife with the same clinical detachment he affords everything else.

The hilt quivers rhythmically. He doesn't need to palpate his pulse to know it's his heartbeat. Even with a shirt on, he knows his body. The red stain spreads from the fourth intercostal space. Tricuspid area. Bitch didn't just get his heart, she got his ventricle.

Of all the women to be killed by, Lucrezia Borgia is both a surprise and a truly fucked up honor. ]

Go lie back down. That's all you can do.

[No. Fuck you, House. You're not allowed to die today. His frown deepens as he stares at House's chest, trying to keep the panic from setting in]

Yeah, well. I'm all the way on the floor now so I'm going to try anyway. Tell me how to fix you.

[He has to be able to fix this one thing. Just this one person. Come on, let him be able to fix SOMETHING for a change, instead of destroying it]

Please. [Okay that last one came out a little more shaky than he intended. Maybe it's harder to keep it together than he's kidding himself with]

Are you a surgeon? Do you have blood for transfusions? Is there a room where you can saw open my chest to close the hole I now have in my heart?

[ He speaks sharply. Scolding even. He doesn't have the patience to cater to anyone's denial right now. He doesn't have the time. ]

[He opens hi mouth to argue, but can't find the words. Because of course he can't help. This is it. Someone else, someone else he considers family is going to die. And he could do nothing to help them]

No.

Don't look so miserable. You're not the one with a knife in your chest.

[ The joke falls flat. He moves his head and that is enough to have him blinking at blurring vision. The lightheadedness passes and his vision clears and he chips off half a minute from his mental timer. There isn't enough blood outside yet; he has to bleeding into the pericardium.

A full minute less. ]

Ha. Ha. You're hilarious.

[There's no humour in his tone, even his usual cynical lilt has gone. He just sounds scared. And sad. And not sure what he's supposed to do here. Everyone just walked away from him before now. He doesn't know how you're supposed to actually say goodbye.

So he half-sits, half-lies there, looking utterly lost. And so very tried of feeling anything]

[After Allen finishes with Lucreciza and hsi little freak out there, he'll be heading over to House as he sees he's still alive, kneeling down in hopes there is something he can do-]

Dr. House....

[he sees that wound. He recognizes the location- it's the same spot he had where he almost died a long time ago in those woods, when Tyki left him to die. But this time, there is no innocence.]

[He sits there, though what he's thinking is clear in his eyes. There is no way to save him, is there?]

I am not including you in my will so don't try kissing ass now.

[ That's a no how only he can. He forgets and motions with his head and has to stop and breathe deeply before he can speak again. ]

Get my jacket, will you. There's something in there I need.

You'd probably only lumber me with something weird like that damn newt again, anyway.

[Okay yes, he'll fall back on sarcasm. He can deal with that, even if his heart ins't in it. Allen you'll have to get the jacket, he can't drag himself any more]

[He doesn't even have a catty reply for House's remark about wills. He doesn't want to think about wills. He wants to go back to Paradisa, to the clinic and have things back to normal. Will people even...]

[He forces himself to stop speaking and rushes over to get the jacket, bringing it back to House. It's the least he could do, after all]

[ Moving is difficult, but he manages to reach into one of the inside pockets and pulls out a cigar instead of the cigarette he had mentioned. He offers it to Once-ler. ]

I lied. [ And to Allen: ] There's a box of them in my room. Make sure this one doesn't go through them all in one day.

[ He has to breathe a little deeper. Already? His lungs should not be compensating so early, his blood pressure can't have dropped so far so soon...

His chest feels tight and it's not the knife.

Shit, shit, shit.

When he speaks, he's breathless and struggling to form the words. ]

There's still four Vicodin left. Make them count. Grab the—grab everything left, divide it between the ones left lucid. Too big a risk one pile. There's salts. Tie her up. Wake her up. Make sure she doesn't have— [ He gasps for breath. He fumbles for the hilt. ] No concussion.

I'm bleeding into my chest. I have to get this out— [ He doesn't want his last lucid moments spent gasping at air. ]

[The Once-er takes the cigar and looks at it numbly, just sitting there in his hand. House you sly fucked. He'd laugh about it if it didn't feel so final.

...But it was, right? Even if he did come back, it didn't make this any less of a death. And it hurt. It hurt a lot]

Should I take that as the 'you'll ruin your lungs' lecture?

[Not that his own pollution hasn't screwed them up already, but still. He finally looks up from the cigar, at House trying to pull he blade out, then casts Allen a concerned look. He doesn't know any of this medical stuff, should he be doing that?]

I will.

[His own words are getting choked up. He can feel tears forming at his face. He's sure House would mock him for it. That he was weak for crying, but he can't help it. ]

[But he knows what House is requesting, it hurts so much. How long ago was it from that one Christmas Eve? When his arm first activated and-]

[No. He's not that child anymore. He knows not acting would be even more painful for him. So he steels himself up, before moving over and placing a hand on the knife of the handle. It's still warm to the touch from Lucrezia, even if he feels a chill through himself the moment he touches it.]

I...I'll remove it.

Edited 2013-05-08 02:27 (UTC)

[ He laughs and he breaks into painful coughs. ]

Do what you want. Anyone asks, you can say Greg House has a heart. Just has a hole.

[ He lets his hand drop and nods to Allen. ]

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