Roleplayer Guild - Forum Roleplaying Games

You must, absolutely must (no exceptions), read the OOC before posting here. Also I should have posted the thread with a maturity tag and unfortunatly I cannot change it; therefore, just like the show, The RP contains elements that may be disturbing and is intended for mature audiences only!


The incessant beeping of his pager was one of the things Dr. Gregory House hated more than anything else. If someone asked him why he probably wouldn’t be able to tell them because he loved his job and he didn’t mind getting up in the morning to go there. It might have been the pain, but he had medicine for that; that being said it remained a mystery even to him, although it may have been the fact that most of the time his pager rang it was over a trivial or uninteresting case. At this point in his life typical medical work had groan dull to Dr. House. He has seen almost all of the common ailments and he could diagnose them without even seeing the patient. House is one of, if not, the best doctors at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital and because of his expertise he has been granted leniency after leniency which has made the job far easier. House is rather anti-social, rarely seeing patients and even more rarely caring about them. His superiors have kept him on despite the fact that he has been reckless, sarcastic, and only takes cases that he find interesting. It wasn’t his fault he was uninterested, but all he cared about at this point in his life was taking jobs that helped him learn.

Dr. House groaned and rolled over on the couch to look at his pager. He hadn’t woken up immediately; in fact he started to think he was dreaming about being bothered over trivial work. Once he opened his eyes he realized it was really going off and he would have to at least look at it. He reached an arm out from under the blanket he had draped over himself the night before. Several objects rattled against each other as he pushed them around with his arm. With a crash a shot glass from the night before had fallen to the ground and House groaned out of frustration. He muttered what was likely a curse as he felt around on the floor for his cane. His hand met the cane fairly quickly, he always kept it close to where he slept, and the cane met all of the objects on the coffee table. It wasn’t long before everything that was on the coffee table had met the floor and that damned beeping noise had stopped. House sighed with relief at the silence and slowly sat up on the couch. He yawned and then cringed in pain; the Vicodin had worn off already. The night had been rough, actually the last few nights had been. Dr. Cameron and Dr. Foreman had quit and House had no choice but to fire Dr. Chase. To make matters worse House had had a very difficult case that he had to solve alone. This normally wasn’t a problem but it would have been helpful to have a few heads to bounce ideas off of. Dr. House sighed again and reached into his jacket pocket, which he was using as a pillow, to grab his bottle of Vicodin. Do not take with alcohol the label read, he knew that already but he didn’t have anything else to drink and he wasn’t going to walk all the way to the kitchen. House took one of the unbroken bottles from the floor and poured some of the whiskey into an unbroken glass.

He didn’t bother to call the number on the pager back; instead he just picked it up, threw on his coat and left the apartment with a yawn. It was early, only about five, so the traffic was going to be light and it wouldn’t take long to get to the hospital. House really was getting reckless at this point in his life. Motorcycles are dangerous enough as it is but driving a motorcycle with a bad leg is just asking for trouble. House jumped on the bike, slid the cane in the little carrier he attached to the side, and rode toward the hospital ready for another day of pointless clinic work and likely another trivial case.

Dr. House walked through the front door of the hospital but not before noticing the paramedics brining another poor sap into the emergency room. Normally he may have looked or at least a normal doctor would have looked, but House didn’t find it interesting enough. It was likely that it was only a car accident or a heart attack, something common and boring. After entering the hospital Dr. House immediately saw Dr. Lisa Cuddy. In an attempt to avoid her he span on his heel and attempted to walk to his office. “Dr. House,” she said with an annoyingly commanding tone that for some reason House always found attractive. He stopped in his tracks but didn’t turn around. “There are patients in the clinic and the clinic is down the hall, in case you forgot,” Dr. Cuddy explained in a belittling sarcastic tone. “And your shirt is rather low cut, come to think of it,” House said as he slowly turned around. “Your breasts look perkier than usual, are you pregnant?” “Not funny House,” she said with the cold attitude that just screamed how frustrated she was with his sarcastic attitude. “I was just playing your game, you know stating what everyone in here already knows,” Dr. House was pushing it today, but he was cranky and this was the kind of thing he did everyday. Dr. House was always sarcastic and he was far too valuable to the hospital to have to worry about any consequences that could come from minor sexual harassment like this. Dr. Cuddy sighed before saying, “Just please House do you clinic hours and then you need to get a new team together.” House smiled and asked sarcastically, “What is wrong with my old team?” Cuddy’s response was said with failing patience, “You fired them all, now when you are done with you hours go to our office and look through those damn resumes, and you need to hire a new team.” Mockingly Dr. House pretended to whine about having to hire a new team while walking toward his office. He called back before disappearing around the corner, “Don’t worry I will hire someone right away and I will have them get right to my clinic hours.”

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Note: When I write anything in this format it is OOC

Current Characters/Roleplays:
None at the moment

She woke up that morning feeling refreshed. Time for a new start. Kinga had just moved into her new apartment and had finally finished unpacking yesterday. She had celebrated with a few glasses of wine and some cozy music while reading a book. After all the drama of the past few years she really needed to get away from her old friends and family and start with something completely new. She had applied as an intern to a few different hospitals in the area and had received admission from all except for one: Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Kinga had heard from all over the country that this was where one of the best doctors in diagnostics taught and he really was top. He had treated famous politicians, brought people back from the brink of death, and was considered more valuable than a grant that was supposedly worth millions of dollars. She had to get in.

However she really wasn't worried about her eligibility. She had been number 2 in her class at Harvard Medical and actually had other doctors asking her to work for them instead of Kinga actually having to apply. She was the hardworking type and had always gone above and beyond what everyone perceived of her limitations. Well, almost everyone. To her own family she was nothing now, an outcast, a disgraced whore who had brought suffering down upon them all. Why couldn't she be a normal woman? Why couldn't she have been happy allowing her husband to be the cultured doctor while she stayed home and raised the children? But this she could never do, as her heart could not allow her mind to die and pushed her to continue learning and to become as, if not more, successful than her husband.

Kinga's family had allowed her to pursue her dreams as long as she followed the traditional ways of family. She may become a doctor and go to college as long as she was also married at an appropriate age and connected to a family as traditional as her own. Kinga may have a job and bring home money as long as she also had many children and was a mother to them. She may be as successful as her husband as long as she allowed him to be the dominant one at home. And she had held up her end of the bargain. Her body, however, had not and she had had a very traumatic miscarriage after months of trying to get pregnant. Her own family blamed her studying and his family blamed her refusal of her "womanly duty." Kahn had just blamed her.

After months of drama, dirty looks from her family, her community ostracizing her, and her husband ruining her life in the divorce settlement, she finally left. Somehow, she had managed to keep up her education during the few years of change and now she was ready for her new start. Kinga didn't want anyone knowing about her past and the trouble she had had or they might feel sorry for her. She didn't want anyone to feel sorry for her, she wanted a life that was her own. She wanted to help people and the best way to do that was medicine. She had first studied in Gynecology to become an OB GYN. Ever since she had been a child, she had wanted to be the doctor who delivered babies and she had held onto that dream for many years. But after the miscarriage and the destruction of the parts of her that made her a woman, she could no longer look at other women whose bodies were normal. Kinga simply couldn't touch a pregnant woman's stomach, look at the echo of a baby growing healthily inside another woman, or watch the miracle of birth which was something she could never experience. She had switched to diagnostics and discovered that her almost photographic memory went hand-in-hand with this specialty. She could memorize hundreds of diseases and symptoms and recall them as if her mind was a search engine. She was quite impressive.

Kinga sipped at her wine, read her book, and waited for the phone call that, although late, was bound to come any day now. It just had to.

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LiZi wuz hurr. (Don't you just HATE gangster talk?)

Dr. House opened the glass door to his office. He limped toward his desk while spinning his cane in his right hand instead of using it to support himself as would be expected. The pain was subdued by the Vicodin so walking without the cane wasn’t so hard. He was, however, feeling a little disoriented, probably from taking the painkillers with a shot of scotch. Dr. House knew he had to look at those resumes, but that didn’t mean he didn’t consider playing a little wall-ball against his office wall, playing a little guitar, or maybe just watching some television in Coma Guy’s room. House loved being a doctor, but he hated tedious paperwork. He hadn’t done much in years, in fact his records were completely out of date and he rarely filled his required time in the walk-in clinic. Somehow this time he managed to ignore his typical distractions as he walked over to his desk and sat down. The pile of resumes was a giant white mountain that would take a lifetime to scale.

To Dr. House the solution was simple: just cut the damned mountain down a little. He reached out and picked up about half of the pile. With a thump the papers fell into the trash can beside his desk. If Cuddy asked he would just tell her that it was unfair for the latest applicants to be selected over the people who actually had them in on time. In fact the latest applicants were obviously lazy or unambitious; in House’s mind they would make poor doctors and even poorer team members. He knew he needed to make at least one call today or Cuddy would bother him all day which meant he wouldn’t be able to watch anything on Coma Guy’s T.V. Dr. House wasn’t going to let that happen, not with the season finale of his favorite medical soap coming on this afternoon. House took the stack and placed it right in front of him deciding that the next order of business would be to make the pile even smaller. House had no desire to look through these any longer and he hadn’t really started yet. He decided to eliminate more of the resumes in a rather typical way. Several more resumes found their way into the trash bin; mostly unprofessional resumes, lengthy resumes, and resumes that seemed too short. Finally House was left with a manageable pile of perfectly balanced resumes. Looking at the one on top he saw the header of Kinga Mehra.

“Ah an Indian doctor, should be pretty good,” Dr. House smirked at his racially misguided thoughts. He quickly scanned the cover letter and was generally impressed, until he saw the mention of gynecological training. House had no use for a gynecologist on his team and he proceeded to throw away the resume when he, by nothing short of pure chance, noticed that her degree and licensure was in diagnostics. He smirked and decided to read the rest of the resume as she was in diagnostics and her background only meant she knew even more. Dr. House was impressed and was far from above calling someone at six in the morning so he reached for his phone, dialed up an out line, and punched in the numbers at the top of the resume.

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Note: When I write anything in this format it is OOC

Current Characters/Roleplays:
None at the moment

Kinga had just come home from her jog when the phone rang. She was still sweaty and adrenaline pumped when she walked in her front door and heard the ringing. Picking up the phone, her heart was pumping and her breathing was still slightly heavy from her daily run which she was methodical about. If she didn't run, her whole day seemed out of place because she enjoyed keeping a rigid schedule.

"Hello, Kinga Mehra speaking." She said this with an accent not quite American but not Indian either. In fact it sounded quite British. Both of her parents had been from India and had learned English from some of the best school money could buy. Her parents had grown up in the middle of the struggle for India's freedom but none-the-less had been educated in British schools located in New Delhi. If one would just hear their voice and not see their tanned, dark faces, one would think they were British. Of course, their daughter had picked up the accent as well and although she was American born and raised, she sounded as if she came from England.

While waiting for the response on the phone, Kinga grabbed a small towel and wiped the sweat from her face. The run had really given her energy and made her feel new again.

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LiZi wuz hurr. (Don't you just HATE gangster talk?)

Dylan slowly rose up from his bed upon hearing his alarm beep an inscesant buzzing noise. Groaning a bit he sighed and slammed his fist down on the button. For some reason waking up was one of the only things he would complain about and he rarely complained about anything. He never thought negatively he never in his life considered the worst. So it made him wonder why something so trivial as getting up in the morning would aggrovate him so much.

Who knows.

As he drug his feet down the one room apartment into the kitchen he once more sighed he was out of food... again.

Damn it Nick why do you always come over and eat all my food? If he keeps doing this i'm going to have to do something other than being a doctor if I want to pay for myself and him.

He smiled a bit and moved his dark brown bangs out of his bluish gray eyes.

Don't worry about it Dylan that man... House I think, will be answering your resume any day now.

That was his phylosophy always look for the best, because sometimes there is just no way life can get any worse that's the way the world works in his mind that everyone is nice to some point.

Dr. House, being fairly impatient, was ready to hang up the phone after the fifth ring or so. Just as he took the phone away from his ear he heard a voice come through the receiver, "Hello, Kinga Mehra speaking." Dr. House smiled and sat back in his chair with the phone against his ear. In a way he was extremely happy she answered as he wanted this process to go as fast as possible. House had put off making any calls, or even looking at any resumes, simply because he didn’t know exactly how he wanted to hire. Though he would never admit it he had grown attached to his old team and replacing them was going to be difficult. Resumes and interviews just didn’t seem like the right way to do things this time. House tapped his cane on the desk a few times trying to decide what to say to the woman on the phone. He hesitated to speak for a moment as he thought likely leaving Kinga in a state of discomfort during the tense silence.

Being a misanthrope, Dr. House had a lot of difficulty talking to people as if they mattered. He didn’t care about people’s feelings and he absolutely hated interviews. He was always completely positive that all humans were liars and he knew he couldn’t trust a word on a resume or at an interview. This being the case Dr. House knew what he had to do. He didn’t have anything to say to Kinga on the phone and he was not going to conduct an interview. She was hired, at least for now. “Hello Kinga, this is Dr. House from Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. According to my clock you are about 30 minutes late for your first day and I will not tolerate lateness,” Dr. House said in a completely serious tone before hanging up the phone before she could respond. She wasn’t late, she didn’t even have the job when this call was made, but House knew that if she really cared about this job she would get her ass to the hospital damn quick. Dr. House made his decision, he would watch them work and that is how he would decide who was worthy of working for him. Dr. House picked up the next resume and decided to give it a cursory glance. “Well, well, Dylan it looks like you are late too,” Dr. House said to himself as he began dialing the number at the top of the resume.

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Note: When I write anything in this format it is OOC

Current Characters/Roleplays:
None at the moment

Dylan strode through his house... apartment after a refreshing shower to wake him up and it was a few seconds before he found himself standing in front of a door. He went to open and gripped the handle and as he turned it he found it wouldn't budge.

A beat.


Giggling was heard from the other side.


Another beat.


A feminine voice was heard laughing. Dylan's eyes narrowed and his face started going red. He brought his fist back and slammed it against the door several times.

"Nick you son of a bitch! Open the door right now or I'm going to break the thing down right now. A curse came from the otherside, and a few words that sounded like 'get out you stupid whore came as well. The door knob jiggled a bit then slowly opened. It was young women half naked with a few clothes in her arms. She looked a bit flushed but obviously pissed off. She quickly walked passed him and assumingly left the apartment.

Inside the room it was a complete mess and on the bed was what looked like a complete replica of Dylan albeit a little more gruff but all the same the resembelance was shocking.

"You ass why'd you have to ruin our fun?" The clone said a bit dissapointed.

Dylan barely stopped himself from slapping himself in the face. He just sighed a bit.

"You bring another hooker in here and your out of here you hear me!" Came a more than angry reply. His brother only nodded. "Why don't you get a job? Or at least try getting one?"

Nicholas Rae only sighed.

"You know that's not my thing bro. I mean your mister seven years of school why don't you have one?"

"I'm trying to get one un-like you, and i'm infact going to another interveiw roght now so don't you lec-!"

RING

RING

Dylan only sighed, reached him into his pocket, and flipped his phone open. He listened for a second and his eyes opened in suprise he put his phone away and turned to Dylan with out a moment to spare.

"What?" The younger brother(by two minutes)asked.

"Give me your keys." This wasn't a question Dylan was commanding him.

"Hell no."

Dylan sighed and picked up a pair of jeans on the floor reached into the pockets and pulled a pair out.

"HEY PUT THOSE BACK!" Nick shouted. Dylan just shook his head as he bolted for the door. As he was running he slipped and fell on his back. He looked down to see the culprit it was.... an empty beer bottle. The yonug doctor cursed and got up once again bolting out the door. Just looked out the door a little confused. Shouting could be heard as Dylan was heard rnning around the house.

"IF A HOSPITAL CALLS TELL THEM I WON'T BE COMING TO THE INTERVEIW. ALSO I LEFT YOU MONEY TO TAKE A BUSS TO GO SEE DONOVAN." The shouting reached Nick's ears as he sat on the bed.

A beat.

CRASH

"SON OF A BITCH!" Came another shout.

"AND FOR THE LOVE OF GOD CLEAN THIS PLACE UP!"

With that the slamming of a door could be heard then a few seconds later a skidding of tires. Nick just fell back asleep.

-----

A few thoughts raced through Dylan's head as he sped down the street.

Late for work I didn't even get an interveiw!

Hailie flicked through a worn medical textbook, skimming passages she’d read hundreds of times before. Flicking her short brown hair out of her eyes, she glanced for the thousandth time at the phone on the coffee table beside her. However, despite how much she willed it to, it didn’t ring. It just sat silently, propped against a large book dedicated to her specialty, infectious diseases. Hailie quickly realised she’d been staring longingly at the phone for a good thirty seconds and dragged herself back to the text she was reading. He would call. She would get an interview and she would do it without Cuddy’s help, as her mother had suggested she do.

‘It doesn’t hurt to take favours every now and then, you know,’ Jason, her fiancé, called from the kitchen, restarting an argument they’d already had the night before. Hailie sighed, praying for patience. She loved Jason to bits, she really did, but he was infuriating when he thought he was right because, like a bull terrier with lock jaw, he couldn’t let it go.

‘It would hurt in this case dear,’ Hailie gritted her teeth. She hated arguing with him. ‘I would loose all credibility with the man before I’d even met him.’

‘I don’t know why you want to work for him, House is a complete jerk.’

‘He also happens to be the best diagnostician in the country, so why don’t you just drop it?’

‘I don’t know why you don’t take one of those million other jobs you keep getting offered.’

Hailie decided the best thing to do for the time being would be to ignore her future husband and get on with her studies. It was only early in the morning, but she wanted to be prepared if her interview with Doctor House finally happened. In the kitchen, Jason mumbled something through mouthfuls of toast as he ate his breakfast.

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After Dr. House hung up the phone, Kinga was flushed. What did he mean she was late? Had he called earlier? Did he leave her an email? She ran to the computer but saw no new messages. She checked her answering machine twice but nothing had been there. Her cellphone also was empty. What had happened? What a great first impression she had made on her first day, not even realizing that she HAD a first day. King really hoped this wouldn't change the Doctor's opinion of her just because she was late once. She would explain what happened. But didn't she have to have an interview first? Confused, she ran to her room to get dressed.

Dragging on a skirt while trying to button of her white silk blouse, she was trying to do everything at once. She put on her black, Italian stilettos and and grabbed her purse before practically flying out the door. While walking down the stairs, Kinga took out her phone and called a taxi, not having the time to get the bus, and was relieved when she walked out the front door and saw it coming down the road. Although her style was rich and her clothes expensive, they were left over from about a year ago. Her family was extremely wealthy and so was the family of her now ex-fiance, however they no longer supported her. At least they let her keep the clothes. Now, she didn't own a car and her apartment was nice, but one would definitely describe it as cozy due to its small size. Normally, she took the bus but today she had no time and got into the taxi which had pulled up to where she was standing.

The drive had been short and the fare inexpensive so she wasn't afraid of going over her strict budget. However, once she got to the hospital she was extremely nervous and the butterflies were accumulating in her stomach. Walking up the great steps, she went through the doors and smelled the clean scent of sterilization. It almost made her sick.

However, if she was going to be a doctor she had better get used to it. Kinga made her way to the secretary and asked,"Excuse me, where is the office of Dr. Gregory House?"

The secretary looked her up and down and said "New intern? Well, good luck. His door is down the hall to the left. Make sure you knock first."

She followed the secretary's directions and made her way to the office which had the name "Dr. House." Written on it. She knocked, trying not to sound weak but also not too confident. Then, she waited. As a nervous habit, she tapped her foot as if impatient but really it was her feeling of anxiousness at meeting the great doctor and hopefully starting an entire new life. Everything depended on this job.

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LiZi wuz hurr. (Don't you just HATE gangster talk?)

Kyle Madison rode up underneath the overhang in his father's Aston Martin V12 Vanquish. Yes, he was a rich kid, but not in any way a snob. His father was the one who flashed the money, not him. Kyle had just transferred over from the West Coast. His father had heard of Dr. House's accomplishments and suggested to the medical board that his son be moved across the country just to see this one doctor. His father was ready to cut the man a large check, but Kyle somehow knew that House wouldn't buy into it as fast as his father thought he would. His father's multi-billion dollar technology corportaion practically did the boasting for him. In a few months, he gave Bill Gates a competition with corporate income.

Kyle was sometimes embarrassed whenever his father drove him around everywhere. It wasn't father-son time like normal families had, it was just his father's way of showing off that he had an heir to his fortune. However, his heir may not be around long enough to inherit anything. The doctors in the West told him that Kyle had a some new strain of cancer. It wasn't causing any physical harm to his body, it was just rapidly draining him of energy. Several times Kyle had passed out and had to be rushed to the ER. The exams showed several corrupted cells that had become cancerous by recognition. However, the cells did not act like normal cancer cells did.

"You must be here for Doctor House," the nurse behind the front desk said to Mr. Madison as he put on his genuine, billion-dollar smile.

"Yes, is he in?" he asked.

"I'm afraid he's busy at the moment. But we'll go ahead and get your son situated in a room. He should be with you in..." she glanced at the clock above her, "....well, actually, I'm never sure when he's going to finally see a patient. But I assure you, he'll examine Kyle sometime today."

Mr. Madison grimmaced and all the nurse could do was just smile back at him like she was ignorant of his annoyed nerves. After a long minute of awkward silence she handed him a clip board of papers for him to fill out and sign. He rolled his eyes when he came across the Do you have insurence? question. He had enough to money to do without insurence, but he kept coverage just incase.

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