RP: Apparently a very important date Characters: Gregory House, Open Time/Date: July 8th Location: Bedroom then Lobby Warnings/Rating: Possible Language (It's House) Summary: Falling down the rabbit hole! Status: Open
He was in a haze. A familiar haze, granted, but a haze none the less. His clouded mind was reeling as he slowly started to open his eyes when he heard a loud, deep sound permeate the room, only just realizing that it was coming from him. Gregory House gave another pained groan as his hand slowly moved up and he held his head in his palm, the throbbing of his temple coursing against his fingers. What had HAPPENED? Did he have a hangover? He didn't remember drinking... but that was usually the sign of a good night.
No, this wasn't a hangover. He felt more sluggish, at least his thoughts did. At least when he had a hangover he was able to think, right now, he had to concentrate on forming lucid thoughts. The first thing that came to his mind was an overdose, but he hadn't touched pills since... well. For quite some time.
So what in the hell was wrong with him? He lied there for a few minutes, before he realized that he didn't know where he WAS lying.... his eyes moved around the foreign room and he slowly sat up, his head starting to clear with every passing minute as he took in his surroundings. His cane was lying next to him on the bed he was lying on, and there was a note on the small table next to him, along with what looked like a phone...
It only took Greg a few moments to read the note and decide that Wilson must be behind this. Honestly, I put plastic wrap over the toilet seat and he drugs me and leaves me in a HOTEL? ...He's getting much better at this. But after another few minutes of studying the note, House slowly began to realize that his best friend wasn't behind this... the note mentioned an island, and as Greg stood to limp over and glance out the window, he realized that he wasn't in familiar territory... the ground and land around him looked dead and barren...
and that was when he started to become concerned.
With a swift movement Greg grabbed his cane and he began to work his way towards the door, walking out into the hallway. He had the phone he found in his pocket... he didn't know who's it was, but it wouldn't connect to any calls that he made to Wilson or Lisa's phones. He marked it up to bad reception... and he checked the device again when he reached the hotels lobby, wondering if he would see any improvement in the service... but no. He glanced around, looking for a front desk to see if he could make a phone call from there instead...