InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "You've got a lot of - spunk"

Dr Gregory House (drcurmudgeon) wrote in mirage_rpg,
@ 2009-01-28 11:19:00

Entry tags:

complete, day 30, gregory house, shannon rutherford

WHO: Gregory House, Shannon Rutherford
WHAT: Two misanthropes walk into a bar
WHEN: Day 30, evening
WHERE: The bar
RATING: PG for now
STATUS: Incomplete

Greg limped through the corridors of the resort caught between sheer irritation and interested anticipation. The irritation was due to his abduction here and the kayaking he'd been forced into this morning. Old memories of things he'd lost and enforced company of the most irritating kind was never going to put him in a good mood. But finding someone who disliked people as much as he did and was as unapologetic about as he was was defintely a good thing, especially when they liked a drink as well.

He finally arrived at a door with 'Bar' written on it and he pushed it open. A small satisfied smile grew on his face as he viewed the bar. It was perfect and there was a glass of scotch sitting on the bar with one of those stone golems behind it. He limped over and picked up the glass before eying the bar stools speculatively.

He was tempted but he knew that while getting up onto the stool wouldn't be a problem, it would do hideous things to his back which would subsequently affect his leg and he'd probably be unable to walk at all by the time he tried to get down. So instead he looked around and picked a comfortable chair in one corner. It was part of a small set of two chair and a table. He limped over and sat down, stretching out his legs and respting his cane against the table. He sipped at his scothc and waited for Shannon to arrive.

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ballerinadreams
2009-01-27 06:47 pm UTC (link)

Maybe it was her room, an exact replica of the apartment she'd shared with Nora after her father had died. Maybe it was Boone's death and the loss of Sayid by being yanked into this place. It could've been any number of things that had caused Shannon to regress, but there it was. All the layers of anger and hatred that she used as a defense mechanism - the same ones she'd finally started to shed for Sayid on the Island - had built themselves back up again. Even if she had a pretty good idea that money had no meaning on Mirage, well. Old habits die hard.

The detective hadn't been interested...but the doctor had, and to Shannon, that was bank. A doctor had to make more than a detective...and he had a sharp tongue on him, too, which was always a plus. He didn't try to soften her up and held no pretenses about wanting to get to know her. To her, he was a dollar sign; something that held more comfort than sometimes she'd like to admit. To him, she would probably be a set of never-ending legs, tits, and a vagina. Whatever worked. A security blanket was a security blanket, after all, and somebody was bound to find a way to get them off this planet someday, weren't they?

She had taken into account that he'd asked her to wear something saucy and Shannon wasn't one to disappoint on that front. She'd taken his advice and started testing the Planet by asking for new, clean replicas of the clothes she'd had on the Island. Among them, the slinky outfit - low cut, flowing top, black heels, and a short skirt that flattered the hell out of her legs - she'd worn to seduce Boone in the hotel before they'd boarded the ill-fated flight. That'd do for now. It had worked on him, why wouldn't it work on Dr. House?

It took her a few minutes to find the place, but after a short confusion, Shannon let herself into the bar, head held high and eyes roaming over the empty chairs. She spotted the golem first, creepy fucking thing, and the already-mixed Sex on the Beach complete with an umbrella - just the way she liked it - in front the thing. As she made her way over to retrieve it, she noticed the good doctor and gave him a wry smile as she sauntered over and primly sat down across the table from him. "Fancy meeting you here," she said with a smirk.

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drcurmudgeon
2009-01-27 09:07 pm UTC (link)

Greg let his gaze roam over the picture Shannon presented and wholeheartedly approved. She was a bit younger than he'd expected but not complete jailbait and that's all he cared about. Pretty, great legs, nice tits and an attitude from hell. Great package all round. Just a shame cameron wasn't here so he could mock her for her shocked and horrified comments. Ah well, he'd have some fun anyway.

"Very nice. Great tits," he said before saluting her with his glass. "Here's to avoiding the idiots."

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ballerinadreams
2009-01-27 09:12 pm UTC (link)

Shannon grinned when he complimented her, albeit crudely. She didn't care; compliments were compliments and with the kind of cash he probably brought in, he could say whatever the hell he wanted to her, for all she cared. "I know, right?" she asked, puffing her chest out proudly. She raised her glass as well. "And the freaks," she added before touching her glass to his with a gentle clink and then taking a sip from it.

"So what do I call you, then? I can't very well keep calling you Dr. House...unless, of course, you've got a kink for that," she said casually, taking the umbrella out of her drink and putting it down on the table as she crossed her legs and let her foot bob up and down slightly.

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drcurmudgeon
2009-01-27 09:25 pm UTC (link)

Greg gave a sharp bark of a laugh. "Plenty of freaks around here from what I've seen. Spent the morning in a damn kayak with one of them. Vampire, would you believe?" He took a long drink and felt the alcohol start to mix with the Vicodin. He'd done this enough times to know exactly where his limit was both in terms of public drinking and private drinking. He had a pretty high tolerance for both the drugs and the scotch.

"Aw, and to think we could have played doctors and nurse," he said with a smirk. "Call me Greg. So you got a name or should I just call you nice tits?"

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ballerinadreams
2009-01-27 09:35 pm UTC (link)

"A vampire? Like...emo kid in goth clothes with a vial of colored corn syrup around their neck, or like blood-drinking, honest to God Drucula shit?" she asked, taking another drink. Jesus, between pretentious pretty boys calling themselves Doctor, creepy little stalkers, and vampires, this place was shaping up to be Craphole Island Part II. Craphole Planet, maybe.

At there was some good company. Sam Tyler could take up the boo-hoo horseshit she would hide from everyone else, simply because he understood...and Greg, then, could take up the rest of her time. No need for anyone else. If Sayid came here, maybe she'd flip a coin or something.

"Aw, well, I'm no stranger to roleplay if that's how you like to do it," she said nonchalantly, grinning back at him. "You can call me whatever you want, handsome, but my name's Shannon. Just don't ever call me Shan, that's all I ask," she added.

Shan was off limits. That was what Boone called her. She'd hated it then and she hated it now, but it wasn't about hating the name. It was about it reminding her of Boone and how she'd never see him again, even if she did get back to where she came from. That wasn't a side of herself she was willing to share with Greg. Or anyone...with the one exception of Sam Tyler, if he decided he wanted to share that side of himself with her, that was. No point in crying all over somebody if they were only going to pat you on the shoulder and say an awkward, 'there, there,' after all.

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drcurmudgeon
2009-01-31 09:23 pm UTC (link)

"No, real vampire," Greg said with a smirk. "Didn't look much like Dracula though. Looked like a try-hard Brit stuck in the punk era. But vampire nonetheless. Didn't like the sun, fun canines, the whole lot."

He snorted with amusement. "Oooh, kinky," he said, leering to an almost ridiculous extent then taking a good swig of his scotch. "Shannon, eh?" He looked her over then smirked. "Trust fund brigade? You look someone who's used to living off Daddy's money."

He didn't think he phase her that much whether she was or wasn't. She had a decent amount of backbone. Spoiled, selfish backbone but backbone nonetheless. It made her interesting to a certain extent. Though finding out what constituted the chip on her shoulder would of course render her less interesting.

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ballerinadreams
2009-01-31 09:31 pm UTC (link)

"No shit? Huh..." Shannon said, taking another sip of her drink, looking impressed. "I'll make a mental note to steer clear of Brits looking like they're stuck in the punk era, then," she joked.

Shannon laughed for the first time for as long as she could remember when he responded to the comment about role playing in the bedroom. Her smile faltered, however, when he inquired about her living off her father's money. Suddenly, Greg was not such good company. "Why?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Gonna analyze me? I thought you didn't want to do any diagnosing here," she reminded him, hoping to effectively tiptoe around answering his question.

The thing of it was...she wasn't sure how to answer it, really. She'd gotten used to it for a while, yeah. But then Sabrina, the fucking witch, had made sure Shannon got un-used to it awfully quick.

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drcurmudgeon
2009-01-31 09:46 pm UTC (link)

"Bleached blonde pale guy," Greg, said finishing off his drink and putting it down beside him on the low table there. "Thinks a great deal of himself. If he gets irritating, just ask for the sun to come out. That'll freak him out. Just don't let him die. From what I can tell, this place gets pissed off at that."

He looked down at the table and wasn't surprised to find his drink had been refilled. He was going to like this place very much.

He smirked. "I like puzzles. And I like solving them. And this isn't diagnosing anything. I'm not a shrink. I hate them. Let me see... you did live off Daddy's money but your defensiveness and the fact you're trying to avoid answering the questions tells me that stopped for some reason. Daddy cut you off? Or was it Mommy? Or did the evil step-mother step in and convince Daddy that his princess should stand on her own two feet?"

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ballerinadreams
2009-01-31 10:09 pm UTC (link)

Shannon smirked. "Sic the sun on him? That's so mean," she laughed. "Although..." she added thoughtfully, "duly noted."

When Greg looked down, Shannon followed his eyes curiously with her own and looked impressed that his glass was refilled. "Now, that's not too shabby at all," she said with a smirk.

Puzzles? Shannon blinked and then, with the forced composure and coldness she was so very fond of putting up to hide behind, she looked him straight in the eye. "My dad's dead," she said dully. She took another drink. "Next question," she said, far more keen on moving off the subject when he'd all but nailed in on the head.

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drcurmudgeon
2009-02-02 04:58 pm UTC (link)

Greg saluted her with his refilled glass then took a sip. "Might as well make this place work for me. If I get enough stuff like this, I might be inclined to forgive it for the crap that happened this morning. I don't like group activities, especially no outdoor ones."

He watched her closely to see her reaction. The father's death surprised him and it was obvious she cared about that. Her following reaction told him that the surviving step-mother must have had some sort of control over the father's assets, enough to cut Shannon off in some way. Interesting and while he was tempted to keep poking and unravel the entire story, he eventually tossed it aside. Family soap operas were ultimately pretty boring and usually fell into one of the usual stereotypes.

He moved his glass to his left hand and used his right to help lift his leg so that he could rest his foot up on the table that sat between them. The angle eased his leg a bit. He frowned then and looked at the table at the side of his chair then shrugged. This place was weird. He could accept that.

"Next question?" he said. "What the hell kind of island has a polar bear and what were you doing there?"

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ballerinadreams
2009-02-02 05:34 pm UTC (link)

"God, I hope I don't have to do one of those horrible things," Shannon replied, wrinkling her nose as she frowned and furrowed her brow at the very thought. "No thank you."

She watched his face and could almost see the gears turning in his head. But, he didn't push the issue and she was glad. If he'd given her the idea that he wanted to be, like, bff and get to know her, she'd never have agreed to meet him.

Then he asked about the Island and Shannon finished off her drink. "I wish I could tell you, but I have no fucking clue," she replied, frowning. "How I got there, though...I was in a plane crash. We landed on the Island...and no rescue boat came."

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