paradisa | (no subject)

[There's a considerable pause here. Is House being nice to him? Why is House being nice to him? Is he sick or something?

Is it a trap?]

I...sure?

[ No answer. But you know. Clock is ticking. Etc. ]

[The Once-ler has something of a miniature panic attack about actually going or not. Because this was House and it was very likely a trap because he can count on one hand the amount of times House has been genuinely nice to him for no reason whatsoever.

...Unless of course he WANTS the Once-ler to think it's a trap.

He should probably stay in his room. The guy's got gammy leg, he'll never make it past all the traps.

But what if he does?

NO. No he is staying here.

...Or maybe House actually wants to spend time with him. Some sort of quasi-parental bonding thing, right? That happens in normal families, he knows because he's heard about it. Maybe House just wants that?

...Yeah this is so a trap.

But he goes anyway, because the Once-ler is nothing if not a glutton for punishment. knock knock, House]

[ :3 ]

It's open!

[ House is not getting off his futon, sorry2say. ]

[Of course he isn't. The Once-ler cautiously opens the door, glancing around for any possible traps before wandering in]

So. Uh. This is a new thing for you.

[ House looks up. What are you talking about, not!son, he has no idea what you mean. ]

…chips?

[This is so a trap. His not!dad is going to use his body for science or something. Once glances around, before cautiously moving to sit down, reaching out to take some]

Thaaaaanks?

Beers are in the fridge. Bring me back one, will you?

[Dude he JUST sat down. He casts House a LOOK, before sighing and standing up, heading to the bridge]

Still not clear what all this is about, and I'm getting a little creeped out now.

[But hey, he'll bring back beer]

You find beer creepy?

No. [...Did he drug the beer?] But what brought on this? You're not exactly known for the uh... [he'll gesture between them] bonding thing.

Who said we're bonding? I have beer and food and felt like talking at someone instead of a wall. You can stay here, where no one else knows you and no one would ever come looking for you, or you can go back to your public plaza of a room. Your choice.

[Well, he sure knows what it's like to just talk to the wall]

...Okay, point made. I guess it won't kill me to stay here a while.

[OR WILL IT?]

[ House loves you, Oncie. :> Loves you. So much. ]

Sit. Ever watched a game before?

[Oncie is still unsure about this love. Still, he carefully sits down]

Not exactly...no. Uncle Ubb was always kinda busy with other stuff. [Like money laundering or something, probably]

Like?

[The Once-ler shrugs, taking a drink from the bottle]

I don't know, stuff. That's how it worked back home. They'd tell me to shoo, I'd shoo.

And if I tell you to shoo?

[The Once-ler keeps his gaze firmly on his bottle, certainly not making eye contact. His expression, however, seems somewhat numb, years of practise made hiding how badly things hurt natural to him]

Then you would just be another in a long line of shoo-ers. Nothing new there.

[ A snort. ]

If you want to pretend like you don't care, you'll have to do a better job.

Why? [Is that a genuine question? Not even the Once-ler's sure about that] It doesn't change anything. It just makes you more vulnerable for when they want to stick the knife in.

In case you haven't noticed, there's always a knife. [ He looks at the newest "unless" to sprout. ] Doesn't matter how much you lock yourself away even if you were actually any good at it. All you want is acknowledgement. Especially when you deny it. You want the world to stop stabbing? It won't. Stop taking everything so personally and learn to let it roll off you.

And when you lie actually look the other person in the eye.

[He frowns a little, his eyes shifting to that unless. He's not exactly sure what is happening here. He's torn between pulling that wall of his as high as he can get it or letting the cracks show. His brow furrows, before he finally deigns to look at House]

I let it roll off me, once. That sort of thing makes you blind to what's going on around you. [He'll tap an unless scribbling itself into the chair] I don't plan on making the same mistake twice.

Only if you let it. You don't want to make the same mistake? Great. Don't pick this one. Some of those sins aren't yours to atone.

Except they are mine, every last one of them. I'm not even going to pretend they aren't. That'd be disrespecting everyone and everything I've hurt along the way.

[He frowns at that unless, running his thumb over it. It remains, of course, they don't just wipe away, much like the connotations the word comes with]

So if I remain an emotional minefield the rest of my life, heck if I have to lie about it, I still will. It's better than the alternative. It's better than being that person who doesn't care. [A whole awful lot]