Post by Anaxzandra Corinne House on Jan 21, 2009 22:03:18 GMT -5
Name: Anaxzandra Corinne House
Age: 19 going on 20
Birthday: March 13th.
Year: 2009.
Dorm or Off-Campus?: Dorm Comanche Hall
Major: Pre-Medicine
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Hometown: Hell. No, really. Hell, Michigan.
Any Disorders/illnesses?: Clotting disorder, crippled leg, chemical addiction to Vicodin, hardcore ADHD, very anti-social, narcissism, chronic colds, etcetera.
Personality: » Ahh, where to start? Xzandr is.. well, many things. It’s hard to pinpoint one word that would sum her up, or even a handful of them. In fact, if she had her way, she would never see an actual patient. To state the obvious, she’s antisocial. Well, for the most part. There are certain people she can tolerate to be around. She has a hard time working with people, because her mind works differently than most others’. She thinks of things, possible solutions, that others wouldn’t begin to think of. She’s not shy by any means, obvious to anyone who’s seen her. She also has a hard time working with people because of her…well, for lack of better word, attitude. She’s very hostile and angry a lot of the time; It’s not that she blames them, per se, for what happened to her leg..It’s just that they exist, she’s in pain, and the Vicodin sometimes either doesn’t help, or makes her quicker to snap. She tends to do things impulsively, without consulting the people she’s working with, or only telling them when there’s no time for them to protest. She does, however, take time in her own mind- or in writing, if need be- to deliberate her move, if it involves the health of a patient. Despite not giving half a damn about the patient, she can never let a puzzle slip away unsolved, and plus she doesn’t want to lose her job because of them. She has a need to achieve things. A huge need to solve everything that comes before her. And if something remains unsolved, it bothers her, for a really long time.
» Being “crippled”- though she doesn’t think of it like that- doesn’t slow her down. She’s constantly doing something, whether it be a video game, solving a medical mystery, or something else. While she values silence, she hates inactivity, and has to be doing something to keep herself busy. Boredom irritates her to no end.
» Xzandr is very uncooperative. She disrespects authority in that, when they tell her to do something, but she feels it’s wrong, or there’s a better way to do it, she’ll do it her way. And usually, she can talk her way out of punishment. Of course, there are times when she’s reprimanded, but it’s usually mild, and she certainly doesn’t learn her lesson.
» She’s innovative. If the situation warrants, and she’s given a couple seconds to think, she can come up with a solution to something that she hadn’t been able to think of before; a different way of doing something to reveal new results.
» Her reasoning isn’t always concrete, and not always abstract, either. It really depends on the situation. Sometimes, the obvious, or traditional solution is the best, while sometimes it’s best to think outside the box.
» While she’s angry and hostile a lot of the time, she also knows how to have fun. She’s been known to be childish at times, and play extremely childish pranks on colleagues and coworkers. Sarcasm and word plays are also a big part of where her humor comes from- as her patients and coworkers have found out the hard way.
» She’s definitely not a perfectionist. Not. Even. Close. Anyone who was to take a look at her desk would know. She just doesn’t see a point to filing things alphabetically, or numerically, or any way. She files things how she wants to, and despite the nonsensicalness of it to other people, she knows exactly where it all is.
Appearance: » When people see Xzandr coming, they assume she’s weak and vulnerable, that being “crippled” automatically makes her a target for abuse and violence. But she’s not vulnerable—she’s actually quite a fighter. She walks with a cane—it’s black and shiny, because she’s always cleaning it, for some reason finding it amusing to have something to “decorate”, while others get this opportunity only when they’ve got a cast. When she walks, she leans heavily on it—she can walk without it, it’s just really hard, it hurts her more than usual, and it just looks very awkward, a massive limp. She has a huge scar on her right thigh, where doctors were trying to save her from the same thing that destroyed her father’s leg. They caught it, but not in time, so that’s why she has to walk with a cane. As for other scars, she as a small one in her side, from when she was a young girl, and had to have her appendix taken out, because it almost burst, plus the one parallel to the scar on her right thigh, just about an inch to the side, where they attempted to repair the damage.
» She is fairly small for her age—she only weighs ninety-four pounds, and is only five-foot-one—which gives people yet another reason to think she’s weak. She’s not very muscular, mostly because she doesn’t really bother with exercising and all—her leg keeps her from doing much physically. She’s not weak, but she’s not overly strong, because of this. She has dark chocolate-brown hair, which reaches down to her shoulders. She usually lets it stay down, in its natural wavy/curly state only for special days, but usually ties it back in a messy bun or banana clip.
» Her eyes are a deep, dark blue or grey sometimes, depending on how one was to look at them. It’s kind of hard to tell though, because she usually doesn’t let people get close enough to see them, or if they are that close, they aren’t for long enough to really take notice before she tries to kill them. {She strongly values her personal space.}
» Her skin is really pale. This is attributed to both genetics- her mother was also really pale- and the fact that she doesn’t exactly get out much. She doesn’t go out much for obvious reasons. She spends a lot of her time either at the hospital, trying to solve her latest puzzle, or at home, playing video games and being alone. Her lag prevents her from really enjoying the outdoors, though she will occasionally go out for a ride on the motorcycle her dad gave to her, or just for a short walk around the block- which usually ends with her taking a lot of Vicodin when she gets home.
Celebrity Claim: Olivia Wilde
Talents/Hobbies: - Decorating her cane with offensive things (she’s been known to draw a very detailed penis along the side, or a bunch of obscenities)
- “Forgetting” to leave the door unlocked for her roommate
- Hanging a hat on the doorknob so the roommate thinks she’s with someone and doesn’t bother her
- Obsessive-compulsive homework-doing
- Analyzing people without their knowing it
- Etc.
Likes: +Puzzles
+A good challenge
+Coffee
+Vicodin
+Weed
+Medicine
+Yelling at people
+A good debate
+Being right
+Bouncy balls
+Labs
+Whacking people in the head with her cane
+Silence
+Video games
+Making little kids cry
+Star Wars
+Pop rocks
+Pain
Dislikes: -Pain (it’s a love/hate relationship.)
-Canes
-Being wrong
-Kids’ laughter
-Snotty people
-Too much noise
-Being caught
-Being short on Vicodin
-Being smaller than most people
-Unsolvable puzzles
-Lazy doctors
-Tea
-Apples
-Working with people
Pets: None
Family: Greg House. 40-something. Disowned.
Background » All he had to do was leave. Home was waiting for him, along with a couple Vicodin pills and some beer. He knew it wasn’t a good idea to mix the Vicodin along with alcohol, and that one day it would lead to his demise. But for that time, he didn’t care. He just wanted to lose himself, to be alone. To be miserable. That’s when he met…Her.
» Nathalie was a little French girl- well, not really ‘little’ or ‘girl’, she was just ten years younger than Dr. Gregory House himself. And she was about to join his team. She’d come from France years before- it seemed like forever- in her junior year of High School, to be a foreign-exchange student. Even then, Dr. House had been a legend. And she dreamed of being exactly like him. She’d studied hard. She turned in all her homework. And finally, she graduated. Granted, her grades weren’t perfect. But they were good enough to put her into Medical School in the US. She didn’t like France. Sure, it was beautiful. Sure, it was her native country. But it wasn’t where her idol was. So she studied hard some more- this time at college and medical school in the US. She passed that with flying colors, and then, did the thing she’d been dreaming about for years. She applied to Princeton-Plainsboro hospital, to be a part of House’s diagnostic team.
» To be perfectly honest, she was thoroughly surprised that the man was still alive. They way he rode that motorcycle, was always taking Vicodin, and drinking, she was surprised he hadn’t overdosed, or ran off the rode, or something. Or, rather, surprised that he wasn’t in jail. Of course, House knew nothing about this new doctor who had all but stalked him for years.
» Her interest in the diagnostics team wasn’t purely for House. It was for the patients. Kindly by nature, Nathalie wanted to help people. Sure, being in the ER would have been great. The NICU would have been great. But what about the non-emergency cases? They still needed help. They were the ones with mystery illnesses, the ones who, though they felt severe effects, had no idea what was attacking their bodies. And that’s what she wanted to be part of- helping those who had no clue what was going on.
» And then, on the steps in front of the hospital, the two met. And House did something he’d never done before. He was kind to her from the get-go. Something about her…There was just something about her that kept him from being rude to her, like he was to the rest of the world. He showed her inside- after all, he had nothing better to do- and helped her find where her desk was, near his.
» That’s how it all started. Honestly, nobody saw it coming. Though Nathalie had idolized House she never imagined what was to come next. First, they started dating. Yes, House was dating. It was as if he was done being a bitter man- he’d even started being kinder to his coworkers, and spending more time with patients. It was odd indeed.
» It was all like a dream. They had been dating for only two months when House did something nobody saw coming, even though he’d been dating, and being kinder. He asked Nathalie to marry him. She accepted, and a week later they were married in a small ceremony. It wasn’t anything huge, or fancy. Just them and the priest.
» They’d never fought. Neither cheated, or even thought of it. Nathalie was definitely the best thing that ever happened to House. She’d managed to get through his bitter, angry exterior and get to his softer, kinder side. She even got him to lessen his Vicodin intake to almost nothing. Everything seemed to be going wonderfully.
» Then Nathalie found out she was pregnant. She was told several years before that, because of a heart problem, that carrying a child was inadvisable. It would put her own health at risk, and the baby’s if things got bad enough. She was too scared to tell House at first. If she told him, he’d get stressed out with worry. He’d start taking more Vicodin. He’d be snappy to his coworkers. It would ruin everything she’d worked on with him. But he found out. She couldn’t keep anything from him. They knew each other too well. House took it surprisingly well, and didn’t do any of the things Nathalie thought he would. Of course, he worried, but it wasn’t as extreme and she’d thought.
» Things carried on as normal as possible. Aside from some slightly high blood pressure and some stress, Nathalie- and her baby- were healthy. That is, until she hit 30 weeks along. She suddenly collapsed, and House discovered her on the floor, bleeding profusely. He thought for sure that she- and the baby- were dead. He rushed her to the hospital. The other doctors there said there was no hope for Nathalie; she’d lost too much blood, and there was no way they’d be able to replace it in time. They had to save the baby.
» House consented. If his wife wouldn’t live, maybe he would be able to keep his child. Some piece of the love of his life. Something to hang onto, to keep her memory alive. A nurse passed him in the hall and stopped briefly to show him the tiny baby in the incubator. She was surprisingly healthy for being ten weeks early, and would probably only be in the NICU a couple of weeks.
» Little Anaxzandra entered the world a little too early. She had the normal preemie problems, but they were surprisingly not severe. Sure, she had some trouble breathing at first, but after a couple days- days House spent feverishly watching his newborn daughter- she was completely off any air support. She needed no more help to breathe. That was a good sign. But then, she had problems gaining weight. She weighed three pounds when she was born, and despite all the feedings and special formulas and things, it still took several weeks for her to be able to gain enough weight to be able to go home.
» She went home three weeks before her original due date, a healthy seven-week-old, weighing five and a half pounds. By all means, things seemed fine with her. House was a caring father, attentive. He kept a close watch over his tiny baby; the last link to his beloved wife. He was determined that she would grow up healthy, and prayed- yes, House prayed- that she would not get the same leg condition that he did.
» Yet, he wasn't determined enough to be with her constantly. Not that he didn't want to- if he had his way, he'd have been with her every second of every day. But he still had to work, and was far from retirement. Besides, as miserable as he projected himself, with his leg, and as much shit as he gave his coworkers, he loved his job. How could he give that up? Besides, he was good at it. So Xzandr wouldn't be alone, and so she wouldn't have to go to the hospital nursery- the hospital had a nursery for children of staff, but House knew for a fact that that's where many colds, flus, and other illnesses come from- nurseries. Healthy as Xzandr seemed, she was still subject to anything that happened to be going around, and for that reason, House did something nobody suspected (yet again); he hired a nanny. He hated the prospect of a nanny- letting someone he barely knew take care of a fragile baby, his flesh and blood..It just didn't sit right with him. He never trusted anyone, and he certainly didn't trust some random nanny. But he needed one; he wouldn't subject his daughter to the hellhole that was the hospital daycare.
» Isabella was hired by House to take care of Xzandr when she was just a month and a half old- House had been granted leave for a short while after she was born, and that's when he had to go back, scheduling the nanny's first day on the same day he'd have to return to work. A 35-year-old woman from Mexico, Isabella had no kids of her own. She and he husband Federico, they'd tried for years, and nothing. They eventually gave up, and that's when Isabella became a nanny. if she couldn't have kids of her own, then she'd take care of someone else's. Unfortunately, House's lingering distrust of nannies had good reason, especially when it came to Isabella. But not at first.
» Oh, at first, it was great. House would leave the small townhouse at nine in the morning, and Isabella would pass him on her way in. She would stay there all day, doing her duties- feeding and changing Xzandr, making sure she was okay, and didn't get hurt, playing with her..And then cleaning up the house, maybe cooking, if she wanted to. If House had to stay at the hospital late, he would call, and Isabella would stay later. That way, Xzandr was never alone for even a few minutes at a time.
» One night, around seven or so, House called the townhouse from the hospital. He knew for a fact that the case he was working on needed his full attention- the man was dying quickly, and if House and his team didn't solve the mystery of the man's strange illness soon, he would die- and he'd have to stay until he was sure he'd found the right solution.
» But there wasn't an answer. The phone rang a couple times, and went to the answering machine. At first, house wasn't worried- he kept his phone ringer on low, because the sound of it irritated him, and he knew Isabella had a little bit of a hearing problem, so he figured she didn;t hear it in time. He hung up, and tried once more. Still, no answer. It was odd... He hung up and tried a third time, with the same result. Now he was starting to seriously worry about what was going on. But he couldn't dwell on it as long as he really wanted to- a nurse was calling him away, the man whose case he was on was coding. House left a hurried message on the answering machine, and rushed off to help.
» Oddly enough, House wasn't even really needed. His team members managed to stabilize the man. So, odering them to page him immediately if things should go south, or if any of them had any clue what was wrong with him or how to diagnose the man, House made his way out of the hospital. He got onto his motorcycle, clicked his cane into the side of it, and sped as fast as he could home. He had a sneaking supicion that somethnig was wrong. Maybe somethnig happened to Isabella, or they were both hurt, or something...He just hoped he was wrong.
» Unfortunately, he was right. When he got there, the front door was wide open, and when he walked in, nobody was there. Isabella wasn't there, and neither was Xzandr. House was frightened. Truly. For the first time in his life. He didn't know what to do at first. Who should he call? He immediately ran for the phone and punched in 9-1-1. That poor dispatcher..House immediately started shouting, talknig as fast as he could. But his message got across- his baby was missing, as was the nanny. And it didn't look good.
» The police immediately came- well, as fast as they could, with all the traffic- and soon the house was swarming with investigators, trying to piece together what had happened. Did the nanny take the baby, somebody come and take them both? Or, worse, were they killed? Extensive testing all over the house foudn no blood- if they HAD been killed, it hadn't been there. That's when the police split up. Some of them stuck around the house to check around further and keep House calm, and the other half went looking for the missing people.
» Isabella hadn't been kidnapped. Quite the opposite. She left of her own accord. And-surprise!-she had little Xzandr with her. Why did she do it? Simple. Because she wanted kids. She was never able to have any of her own, no matter how hard she tried, over how many years. She wanted them so bad... Up until recently, she'd accepted it. She'd been fine, no matter how har dit hurt. But then her husband- a little younger than her- started eyeing younger women, and actually told Isabella that he would leave her if they didn't get a child soon. They'd already applied to several adoption agencies, hoping to adopt, but there was such a long wait... So, in an act of desperation, she took Xzandr, while House was away. She didn't know why she thought she would get away with it. She loved Xzandr.
» It didn't take investigators long to find a note that Isabella left. Their problem was translating it. They didn't want to show it to House until they could translate it into English- it was written in Spanish. But House saw one of them holding a paper and immediately snatched it. He- unbeknownst to them- spoke Spanish, and was quickly able to know what it said. It was a confession, by Isabella, to taking the baby. And why she did it. the problem? Not a single clue as to her- or Xzandr's- whereabouts.
» Isabella hadn't forseen what was about to happen. Her husband, upon his wife's return with the baby, immediately started screaming at her. he told he that yes, he wanted a child badly with her, but not if it meant committing a crime. He didn't exactly have a clean record, but he was definitely against that sort of thing, kidnapping. The two started arguing. Loudly. And then Federico did somethnig even he doubted he'd ever do. He backhanded his wife.
» So that's when Isabella had had enough. She grabbed Xzandr and ran outside, into her car, and just started driving. She went as fast as she could without looking conspicuous, or getting caught. She knew that, by now, there had to be a lot of cops looking for her, and when she got caught, she'd be in for one hell of a jail sentence. She wasn't foolish enough to think she'd be able to get away with it- not after all this. After his wife left, Federico went immediately to the police, and told them about his wife, and what direction she'd gone in.
» She knew she had to do something- anything. Her feelings about the baby had changed. it was no longer cute, fun..She no longer loved it. To Isabella, it was Xzandr's fault that she was now on the run from the law. So she kept on driving until she came to a bridge, overlooking a rushing river. She stopped the car and put it in idle, and got the baby out of the back. She stood on the ledge...and then the cops came. They surrounded her, trapping her in. A negotiator got out, and tried to reason with her. There was no reasoning with Isabella.
» But then House got out of one of the cars. He talked to her, in Spanish. And he managed to calm her down enough to have convinced her to step down. And she was about to. But as she turned, her foot slipped on the wet ledge, and she- Xzandr in her arms- plunged to the water. Two police officers immediately ran down tot he banks of the river and dived in, swimming as quick as possible to save them- or at least Xzandr.
» In the plunge, the former nanny and Xzandr had been separated. Being smaller, Xzandr was being swept away faster- and probably getting hypothermia, considering that it was cold in that water. One officer swam toward Isabella while the other swam his heart out to Xzandr. He got to her just in time, and got her out of the water as soon as possible. Luckily, they'd called ambulances to help as soon as the nanny fell, so they were readily available. Xzandr and Isabella were rushed to the hospital. Both made it- though Xzandr suffered a broken arm and mild hypothermia.
» Because of this, House decided that he and his baby needed to move. As much as it hurt him, and as much as he did NOT want to leave his job, he felt the need to. For Xzandr's safety. So they moved here, and he started to working in the local hospital, quickly making a name for himself here as well. And his new coworkers knew of him already.
» Most people wondered how House could be so angry all the time, pretty much hating the world, to being so great with his kid. House has always felt like everyone lies, which is why he seems to hate the world—because they lie to him. But a baby—it won’t lie. It can’t. A baby can still be raised the right way, taught not to lie. That’s why he was decent to the little girl, and would never talk to her the way he did to coworkers.
» The changes Nathalie brought on didn't stay long, with here gone. Oh, at home, they did- sort of- in that he never yelled at or talked to Xzandr the way he would anyone else, but his Vicodin intake increased drastically. The stress of losing a wife, and nearly losing his baby made the pain in his leg worse, which resulted in more vicodin. He started being angrier at his coworkers, yelled at them more. pretty much, he went back to his old ways. But he was never abusive in any way to Xzandr.
» As Anaxzandra grew up, it became more apparent how much like her father she was: she had his eyes, his brains, his.. attitude. She was very advanced for her age: on the first day of Kindergarten, she already knew how to read- mainly because House would spend his spare time reading to her, and then having her read it, then eventually just having her read.
» Things went great for the next couple of years. Anaxzandra loved school, loved to learn. She was always trying to get House to teach her things. She decided she wanted to be a doctor, like her daddy. Sure, kids picked on her—for being small, for being a nerd/geek, for her daddy being a “cripple”.. But she never listened to them. So what if she was smart, little, and her father walked with a cane? She wanted to be just like him. As she grew older, she became more and more like House—same attitude and everything.
» One thing she didn't seem to have in common with him, though, was his leg problem- at least, at that point she didn't. And he was temporarily relieved. His daughter was a healthy, athletic little girl. She even joined the school lacrosse team, and did some gymnastics- though she quit that when she was six, and joined karate. She was good at her sports- lacrosse and karate- with medals in the former, and increasing belt rank in the latter. She even started running for the track team.
» It was the middle of the championship game-Xandr's last game, it being her “senior” year in high school-against one of the team's most bitter rivals. The score was tied at fifteen for each team, and Xzandr's team had the ball. on the break, she was passed the ball, and started running with it, twirling the stick so the ball would stay in the net. But then, something horrible happened. As she ran, her right leg started hurting. She ignored it, at first- as an athlete, she'd had to get used to random aches and pains- but then it got worse the more she ran. This wasn't any normal pain, it was worse than anything she'd felt before. She suddenly collapsed, shouting in pain, with both hands holding her leg.
» The game had to be stopped, and paramedics were immediately called. Xzandr was immediately rushed to the hospital, where they did a battery of tests. What could possibly have been wrong? They did x-rays and determined it definitely wasn't broken. That's when House arrived- he'd been out of town for a medical conference, and upon news of his daughter's injury, rushed to the hospital. He immediately ordered another test- one the other doctor's hadn't thought to do. The one that had told House himself what was wrong with his leg. They got the same result. But unfortunately, they were too late. House had taken almost an hour to get there, and by that time, a lot of muscle tissue was dead. They did what they could- removed the dead tissue- but she would forever be changed. She'd be (almost) exactly like her father. Despite this, she still wanted to go to college, and act “normal”.
» Xzandr was always advanced in school. She started kindergarten around the normal age- at five. By first grade, it was obvious she operated on a higher level than her fellow students, and at the end of the year, she was put through a test that told the teachers she belonged in fourth grade. So, she went directly there the next fall, skipping second and third grade. She seemed to fit well into the academics, neither too challenged nor bored because it wasn’t challenging enough. But, true to Xzandr form, as she started high school, Xzandr got impatient. Why did she have to listen to all the bullshit when she already knew what she wanted to do, and wanted to get started with it? So she talked to her counselor, and after completing necessary credits in summer school, graduated a year early. After graduation, she came here.
Role-Playing Sample:
Codeword: *exposes ‘giner*
Age: 19 going on 20
Birthday: March 13th.
Year: 2009.
Dorm or Off-Campus?: Dorm Comanche Hall
Major: Pre-Medicine
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Hometown: Hell. No, really. Hell, Michigan.
Any Disorders/illnesses?: Clotting disorder, crippled leg, chemical addiction to Vicodin, hardcore ADHD, very anti-social, narcissism, chronic colds, etcetera.
Personality: » Ahh, where to start? Xzandr is.. well, many things. It’s hard to pinpoint one word that would sum her up, or even a handful of them. In fact, if she had her way, she would never see an actual patient. To state the obvious, she’s antisocial. Well, for the most part. There are certain people she can tolerate to be around. She has a hard time working with people, because her mind works differently than most others’. She thinks of things, possible solutions, that others wouldn’t begin to think of. She’s not shy by any means, obvious to anyone who’s seen her. She also has a hard time working with people because of her…well, for lack of better word, attitude. She’s very hostile and angry a lot of the time; It’s not that she blames them, per se, for what happened to her leg..It’s just that they exist, she’s in pain, and the Vicodin sometimes either doesn’t help, or makes her quicker to snap. She tends to do things impulsively, without consulting the people she’s working with, or only telling them when there’s no time for them to protest. She does, however, take time in her own mind- or in writing, if need be- to deliberate her move, if it involves the health of a patient. Despite not giving half a damn about the patient, she can never let a puzzle slip away unsolved, and plus she doesn’t want to lose her job because of them. She has a need to achieve things. A huge need to solve everything that comes before her. And if something remains unsolved, it bothers her, for a really long time.
» Being “crippled”- though she doesn’t think of it like that- doesn’t slow her down. She’s constantly doing something, whether it be a video game, solving a medical mystery, or something else. While she values silence, she hates inactivity, and has to be doing something to keep herself busy. Boredom irritates her to no end.
» Xzandr is very uncooperative. She disrespects authority in that, when they tell her to do something, but she feels it’s wrong, or there’s a better way to do it, she’ll do it her way. And usually, she can talk her way out of punishment. Of course, there are times when she’s reprimanded, but it’s usually mild, and she certainly doesn’t learn her lesson.
» She’s innovative. If the situation warrants, and she’s given a couple seconds to think, she can come up with a solution to something that she hadn’t been able to think of before; a different way of doing something to reveal new results.
» Her reasoning isn’t always concrete, and not always abstract, either. It really depends on the situation. Sometimes, the obvious, or traditional solution is the best, while sometimes it’s best to think outside the box.
» While she’s angry and hostile a lot of the time, she also knows how to have fun. She’s been known to be childish at times, and play extremely childish pranks on colleagues and coworkers. Sarcasm and word plays are also a big part of where her humor comes from- as her patients and coworkers have found out the hard way.
» She’s definitely not a perfectionist. Not. Even. Close. Anyone who was to take a look at her desk would know. She just doesn’t see a point to filing things alphabetically, or numerically, or any way. She files things how she wants to, and despite the nonsensicalness of it to other people, she knows exactly where it all is.
Appearance: » When people see Xzandr coming, they assume she’s weak and vulnerable, that being “crippled” automatically makes her a target for abuse and violence. But she’s not vulnerable—she’s actually quite a fighter. She walks with a cane—it’s black and shiny, because she’s always cleaning it, for some reason finding it amusing to have something to “decorate”, while others get this opportunity only when they’ve got a cast. When she walks, she leans heavily on it—she can walk without it, it’s just really hard, it hurts her more than usual, and it just looks very awkward, a massive limp. She has a huge scar on her right thigh, where doctors were trying to save her from the same thing that destroyed her father’s leg. They caught it, but not in time, so that’s why she has to walk with a cane. As for other scars, she as a small one in her side, from when she was a young girl, and had to have her appendix taken out, because it almost burst, plus the one parallel to the scar on her right thigh, just about an inch to the side, where they attempted to repair the damage.
» She is fairly small for her age—she only weighs ninety-four pounds, and is only five-foot-one—which gives people yet another reason to think she’s weak. She’s not very muscular, mostly because she doesn’t really bother with exercising and all—her leg keeps her from doing much physically. She’s not weak, but she’s not overly strong, because of this. She has dark chocolate-brown hair, which reaches down to her shoulders. She usually lets it stay down, in its natural wavy/curly state only for special days, but usually ties it back in a messy bun or banana clip.
» Her eyes are a deep, dark blue or grey sometimes, depending on how one was to look at them. It’s kind of hard to tell though, because she usually doesn’t let people get close enough to see them, or if they are that close, they aren’t for long enough to really take notice before she tries to kill them. {She strongly values her personal space.}
» Her skin is really pale. This is attributed to both genetics- her mother was also really pale- and the fact that she doesn’t exactly get out much. She doesn’t go out much for obvious reasons. She spends a lot of her time either at the hospital, trying to solve her latest puzzle, or at home, playing video games and being alone. Her lag prevents her from really enjoying the outdoors, though she will occasionally go out for a ride on the motorcycle her dad gave to her, or just for a short walk around the block- which usually ends with her taking a lot of Vicodin when she gets home.
Celebrity Claim: Olivia Wilde
Talents/Hobbies: - Decorating her cane with offensive things (she’s been known to draw a very detailed penis along the side, or a bunch of obscenities)
- “Forgetting” to leave the door unlocked for her roommate
- Hanging a hat on the doorknob so the roommate thinks she’s with someone and doesn’t bother her
- Obsessive-compulsive homework-doing
- Analyzing people without their knowing it
- Etc.
Likes: +Puzzles
+A good challenge
+Coffee
+Vicodin
+Weed
+Medicine
+Yelling at people
+A good debate
+Being right
+Bouncy balls
+Labs
+Whacking people in the head with her cane
+Silence
+Video games
+Making little kids cry
+Star Wars
+Pop rocks
+Pain
Dislikes: -Pain (it’s a love/hate relationship.)
-Canes
-Being wrong
-Kids’ laughter
-Snotty people
-Too much noise
-Being caught
-Being short on Vicodin
-Being smaller than most people
-Unsolvable puzzles
-Lazy doctors
-Tea
-Apples
-Working with people
Pets: None
Family: Greg House. 40-something. Disowned.
Background » All he had to do was leave. Home was waiting for him, along with a couple Vicodin pills and some beer. He knew it wasn’t a good idea to mix the Vicodin along with alcohol, and that one day it would lead to his demise. But for that time, he didn’t care. He just wanted to lose himself, to be alone. To be miserable. That’s when he met…Her.
» Nathalie was a little French girl- well, not really ‘little’ or ‘girl’, she was just ten years younger than Dr. Gregory House himself. And she was about to join his team. She’d come from France years before- it seemed like forever- in her junior year of High School, to be a foreign-exchange student. Even then, Dr. House had been a legend. And she dreamed of being exactly like him. She’d studied hard. She turned in all her homework. And finally, she graduated. Granted, her grades weren’t perfect. But they were good enough to put her into Medical School in the US. She didn’t like France. Sure, it was beautiful. Sure, it was her native country. But it wasn’t where her idol was. So she studied hard some more- this time at college and medical school in the US. She passed that with flying colors, and then, did the thing she’d been dreaming about for years. She applied to Princeton-Plainsboro hospital, to be a part of House’s diagnostic team.
» To be perfectly honest, she was thoroughly surprised that the man was still alive. They way he rode that motorcycle, was always taking Vicodin, and drinking, she was surprised he hadn’t overdosed, or ran off the rode, or something. Or, rather, surprised that he wasn’t in jail. Of course, House knew nothing about this new doctor who had all but stalked him for years.
» Her interest in the diagnostics team wasn’t purely for House. It was for the patients. Kindly by nature, Nathalie wanted to help people. Sure, being in the ER would have been great. The NICU would have been great. But what about the non-emergency cases? They still needed help. They were the ones with mystery illnesses, the ones who, though they felt severe effects, had no idea what was attacking their bodies. And that’s what she wanted to be part of- helping those who had no clue what was going on.
» And then, on the steps in front of the hospital, the two met. And House did something he’d never done before. He was kind to her from the get-go. Something about her…There was just something about her that kept him from being rude to her, like he was to the rest of the world. He showed her inside- after all, he had nothing better to do- and helped her find where her desk was, near his.
» That’s how it all started. Honestly, nobody saw it coming. Though Nathalie had idolized House she never imagined what was to come next. First, they started dating. Yes, House was dating. It was as if he was done being a bitter man- he’d even started being kinder to his coworkers, and spending more time with patients. It was odd indeed.
» It was all like a dream. They had been dating for only two months when House did something nobody saw coming, even though he’d been dating, and being kinder. He asked Nathalie to marry him. She accepted, and a week later they were married in a small ceremony. It wasn’t anything huge, or fancy. Just them and the priest.
» They’d never fought. Neither cheated, or even thought of it. Nathalie was definitely the best thing that ever happened to House. She’d managed to get through his bitter, angry exterior and get to his softer, kinder side. She even got him to lessen his Vicodin intake to almost nothing. Everything seemed to be going wonderfully.
» Then Nathalie found out she was pregnant. She was told several years before that, because of a heart problem, that carrying a child was inadvisable. It would put her own health at risk, and the baby’s if things got bad enough. She was too scared to tell House at first. If she told him, he’d get stressed out with worry. He’d start taking more Vicodin. He’d be snappy to his coworkers. It would ruin everything she’d worked on with him. But he found out. She couldn’t keep anything from him. They knew each other too well. House took it surprisingly well, and didn’t do any of the things Nathalie thought he would. Of course, he worried, but it wasn’t as extreme and she’d thought.
» Things carried on as normal as possible. Aside from some slightly high blood pressure and some stress, Nathalie- and her baby- were healthy. That is, until she hit 30 weeks along. She suddenly collapsed, and House discovered her on the floor, bleeding profusely. He thought for sure that she- and the baby- were dead. He rushed her to the hospital. The other doctors there said there was no hope for Nathalie; she’d lost too much blood, and there was no way they’d be able to replace it in time. They had to save the baby.
» House consented. If his wife wouldn’t live, maybe he would be able to keep his child. Some piece of the love of his life. Something to hang onto, to keep her memory alive. A nurse passed him in the hall and stopped briefly to show him the tiny baby in the incubator. She was surprisingly healthy for being ten weeks early, and would probably only be in the NICU a couple of weeks.
» Little Anaxzandra entered the world a little too early. She had the normal preemie problems, but they were surprisingly not severe. Sure, she had some trouble breathing at first, but after a couple days- days House spent feverishly watching his newborn daughter- she was completely off any air support. She needed no more help to breathe. That was a good sign. But then, she had problems gaining weight. She weighed three pounds when she was born, and despite all the feedings and special formulas and things, it still took several weeks for her to be able to gain enough weight to be able to go home.
» She went home three weeks before her original due date, a healthy seven-week-old, weighing five and a half pounds. By all means, things seemed fine with her. House was a caring father, attentive. He kept a close watch over his tiny baby; the last link to his beloved wife. He was determined that she would grow up healthy, and prayed- yes, House prayed- that she would not get the same leg condition that he did.
» Yet, he wasn't determined enough to be with her constantly. Not that he didn't want to- if he had his way, he'd have been with her every second of every day. But he still had to work, and was far from retirement. Besides, as miserable as he projected himself, with his leg, and as much shit as he gave his coworkers, he loved his job. How could he give that up? Besides, he was good at it. So Xzandr wouldn't be alone, and so she wouldn't have to go to the hospital nursery- the hospital had a nursery for children of staff, but House knew for a fact that that's where many colds, flus, and other illnesses come from- nurseries. Healthy as Xzandr seemed, she was still subject to anything that happened to be going around, and for that reason, House did something nobody suspected (yet again); he hired a nanny. He hated the prospect of a nanny- letting someone he barely knew take care of a fragile baby, his flesh and blood..It just didn't sit right with him. He never trusted anyone, and he certainly didn't trust some random nanny. But he needed one; he wouldn't subject his daughter to the hellhole that was the hospital daycare.
» Isabella was hired by House to take care of Xzandr when she was just a month and a half old- House had been granted leave for a short while after she was born, and that's when he had to go back, scheduling the nanny's first day on the same day he'd have to return to work. A 35-year-old woman from Mexico, Isabella had no kids of her own. She and he husband Federico, they'd tried for years, and nothing. They eventually gave up, and that's when Isabella became a nanny. if she couldn't have kids of her own, then she'd take care of someone else's. Unfortunately, House's lingering distrust of nannies had good reason, especially when it came to Isabella. But not at first.
» Oh, at first, it was great. House would leave the small townhouse at nine in the morning, and Isabella would pass him on her way in. She would stay there all day, doing her duties- feeding and changing Xzandr, making sure she was okay, and didn't get hurt, playing with her..And then cleaning up the house, maybe cooking, if she wanted to. If House had to stay at the hospital late, he would call, and Isabella would stay later. That way, Xzandr was never alone for even a few minutes at a time.
» One night, around seven or so, House called the townhouse from the hospital. He knew for a fact that the case he was working on needed his full attention- the man was dying quickly, and if House and his team didn't solve the mystery of the man's strange illness soon, he would die- and he'd have to stay until he was sure he'd found the right solution.
» But there wasn't an answer. The phone rang a couple times, and went to the answering machine. At first, house wasn't worried- he kept his phone ringer on low, because the sound of it irritated him, and he knew Isabella had a little bit of a hearing problem, so he figured she didn;t hear it in time. He hung up, and tried once more. Still, no answer. It was odd... He hung up and tried a third time, with the same result. Now he was starting to seriously worry about what was going on. But he couldn't dwell on it as long as he really wanted to- a nurse was calling him away, the man whose case he was on was coding. House left a hurried message on the answering machine, and rushed off to help.
» Oddly enough, House wasn't even really needed. His team members managed to stabilize the man. So, odering them to page him immediately if things should go south, or if any of them had any clue what was wrong with him or how to diagnose the man, House made his way out of the hospital. He got onto his motorcycle, clicked his cane into the side of it, and sped as fast as he could home. He had a sneaking supicion that somethnig was wrong. Maybe somethnig happened to Isabella, or they were both hurt, or something...He just hoped he was wrong.
» Unfortunately, he was right. When he got there, the front door was wide open, and when he walked in, nobody was there. Isabella wasn't there, and neither was Xzandr. House was frightened. Truly. For the first time in his life. He didn't know what to do at first. Who should he call? He immediately ran for the phone and punched in 9-1-1. That poor dispatcher..House immediately started shouting, talknig as fast as he could. But his message got across- his baby was missing, as was the nanny. And it didn't look good.
» The police immediately came- well, as fast as they could, with all the traffic- and soon the house was swarming with investigators, trying to piece together what had happened. Did the nanny take the baby, somebody come and take them both? Or, worse, were they killed? Extensive testing all over the house foudn no blood- if they HAD been killed, it hadn't been there. That's when the police split up. Some of them stuck around the house to check around further and keep House calm, and the other half went looking for the missing people.
» Isabella hadn't been kidnapped. Quite the opposite. She left of her own accord. And-surprise!-she had little Xzandr with her. Why did she do it? Simple. Because she wanted kids. She was never able to have any of her own, no matter how hard she tried, over how many years. She wanted them so bad... Up until recently, she'd accepted it. She'd been fine, no matter how har dit hurt. But then her husband- a little younger than her- started eyeing younger women, and actually told Isabella that he would leave her if they didn't get a child soon. They'd already applied to several adoption agencies, hoping to adopt, but there was such a long wait... So, in an act of desperation, she took Xzandr, while House was away. She didn't know why she thought she would get away with it. She loved Xzandr.
» It didn't take investigators long to find a note that Isabella left. Their problem was translating it. They didn't want to show it to House until they could translate it into English- it was written in Spanish. But House saw one of them holding a paper and immediately snatched it. He- unbeknownst to them- spoke Spanish, and was quickly able to know what it said. It was a confession, by Isabella, to taking the baby. And why she did it. the problem? Not a single clue as to her- or Xzandr's- whereabouts.
» Isabella hadn't forseen what was about to happen. Her husband, upon his wife's return with the baby, immediately started screaming at her. he told he that yes, he wanted a child badly with her, but not if it meant committing a crime. He didn't exactly have a clean record, but he was definitely against that sort of thing, kidnapping. The two started arguing. Loudly. And then Federico did somethnig even he doubted he'd ever do. He backhanded his wife.
» So that's when Isabella had had enough. She grabbed Xzandr and ran outside, into her car, and just started driving. She went as fast as she could without looking conspicuous, or getting caught. She knew that, by now, there had to be a lot of cops looking for her, and when she got caught, she'd be in for one hell of a jail sentence. She wasn't foolish enough to think she'd be able to get away with it- not after all this. After his wife left, Federico went immediately to the police, and told them about his wife, and what direction she'd gone in.
» She knew she had to do something- anything. Her feelings about the baby had changed. it was no longer cute, fun..She no longer loved it. To Isabella, it was Xzandr's fault that she was now on the run from the law. So she kept on driving until she came to a bridge, overlooking a rushing river. She stopped the car and put it in idle, and got the baby out of the back. She stood on the ledge...and then the cops came. They surrounded her, trapping her in. A negotiator got out, and tried to reason with her. There was no reasoning with Isabella.
» But then House got out of one of the cars. He talked to her, in Spanish. And he managed to calm her down enough to have convinced her to step down. And she was about to. But as she turned, her foot slipped on the wet ledge, and she- Xzandr in her arms- plunged to the water. Two police officers immediately ran down tot he banks of the river and dived in, swimming as quick as possible to save them- or at least Xzandr.
» In the plunge, the former nanny and Xzandr had been separated. Being smaller, Xzandr was being swept away faster- and probably getting hypothermia, considering that it was cold in that water. One officer swam toward Isabella while the other swam his heart out to Xzandr. He got to her just in time, and got her out of the water as soon as possible. Luckily, they'd called ambulances to help as soon as the nanny fell, so they were readily available. Xzandr and Isabella were rushed to the hospital. Both made it- though Xzandr suffered a broken arm and mild hypothermia.
» Because of this, House decided that he and his baby needed to move. As much as it hurt him, and as much as he did NOT want to leave his job, he felt the need to. For Xzandr's safety. So they moved here, and he started to working in the local hospital, quickly making a name for himself here as well. And his new coworkers knew of him already.
» Most people wondered how House could be so angry all the time, pretty much hating the world, to being so great with his kid. House has always felt like everyone lies, which is why he seems to hate the world—because they lie to him. But a baby—it won’t lie. It can’t. A baby can still be raised the right way, taught not to lie. That’s why he was decent to the little girl, and would never talk to her the way he did to coworkers.
» The changes Nathalie brought on didn't stay long, with here gone. Oh, at home, they did- sort of- in that he never yelled at or talked to Xzandr the way he would anyone else, but his Vicodin intake increased drastically. The stress of losing a wife, and nearly losing his baby made the pain in his leg worse, which resulted in more vicodin. He started being angrier at his coworkers, yelled at them more. pretty much, he went back to his old ways. But he was never abusive in any way to Xzandr.
» As Anaxzandra grew up, it became more apparent how much like her father she was: she had his eyes, his brains, his.. attitude. She was very advanced for her age: on the first day of Kindergarten, she already knew how to read- mainly because House would spend his spare time reading to her, and then having her read it, then eventually just having her read.
» Things went great for the next couple of years. Anaxzandra loved school, loved to learn. She was always trying to get House to teach her things. She decided she wanted to be a doctor, like her daddy. Sure, kids picked on her—for being small, for being a nerd/geek, for her daddy being a “cripple”.. But she never listened to them. So what if she was smart, little, and her father walked with a cane? She wanted to be just like him. As she grew older, she became more and more like House—same attitude and everything.
» One thing she didn't seem to have in common with him, though, was his leg problem- at least, at that point she didn't. And he was temporarily relieved. His daughter was a healthy, athletic little girl. She even joined the school lacrosse team, and did some gymnastics- though she quit that when she was six, and joined karate. She was good at her sports- lacrosse and karate- with medals in the former, and increasing belt rank in the latter. She even started running for the track team.
» It was the middle of the championship game-Xandr's last game, it being her “senior” year in high school-against one of the team's most bitter rivals. The score was tied at fifteen for each team, and Xzandr's team had the ball. on the break, she was passed the ball, and started running with it, twirling the stick so the ball would stay in the net. But then, something horrible happened. As she ran, her right leg started hurting. She ignored it, at first- as an athlete, she'd had to get used to random aches and pains- but then it got worse the more she ran. This wasn't any normal pain, it was worse than anything she'd felt before. She suddenly collapsed, shouting in pain, with both hands holding her leg.
» The game had to be stopped, and paramedics were immediately called. Xzandr was immediately rushed to the hospital, where they did a battery of tests. What could possibly have been wrong? They did x-rays and determined it definitely wasn't broken. That's when House arrived- he'd been out of town for a medical conference, and upon news of his daughter's injury, rushed to the hospital. He immediately ordered another test- one the other doctor's hadn't thought to do. The one that had told House himself what was wrong with his leg. They got the same result. But unfortunately, they were too late. House had taken almost an hour to get there, and by that time, a lot of muscle tissue was dead. They did what they could- removed the dead tissue- but she would forever be changed. She'd be (almost) exactly like her father. Despite this, she still wanted to go to college, and act “normal”.
» Xzandr was always advanced in school. She started kindergarten around the normal age- at five. By first grade, it was obvious she operated on a higher level than her fellow students, and at the end of the year, she was put through a test that told the teachers she belonged in fourth grade. So, she went directly there the next fall, skipping second and third grade. She seemed to fit well into the academics, neither too challenged nor bored because it wasn’t challenging enough. But, true to Xzandr form, as she started high school, Xzandr got impatient. Why did she have to listen to all the bullshit when she already knew what she wanted to do, and wanted to get started with it? So she talked to her counselor, and after completing necessary credits in summer school, graduated a year early. After graduation, she came here.
Role-Playing Sample:
» How was this not her fault? Okay, so she couldn't actually kill it, true, but there were several times she wished he were dead, mainly when she had to go worship the porcelain God every two seconds, or piss way too much to be able to accomplish something useful, or... pretty much every other second, yeah... But she wasn't the one who slammed the door into herself. She wasn't standing there intentionally, or even on the off chance that someone would be idiotic enough to come in. She wasn't running around doing jumping jacks or some other highly unrecommended physical activity, in hopes of an extremely early birth. She hadn't continued to take drugs the entire time, or started drinking heavily, or smoking... Still, she suddenly felt as if there entire situation was her fault. She shook her head, refusing to believe what Ryan was saying- that it wasn't her fault. It had to be. "No, it's... the drugs.... The drugs, Ryan... Maybe if I had quit right away, he'd have some sort of chance..." Obviously, she wasn't thinking clearly. Anyone who'd so much as seen a medical drama on TV would know that, this early, virtually nothing would give the kid a "better chance". His lungs would be so severely underdeveloped that the effects of the drugs were probably insignificant at that point, unless Xzandr had done something hardcore like cocaine, which she hadn't. At this point, however, it didn't matter. The drugs certainly didn't help him any, but it wasn't like he had a great chance either way. Xzandr knew that damn well; she just refused to believe that it was anything but her fault.
» Being touched was completely unexpected. Actually, she hadn't even noticed Ryan approach, since her mind was so occupied elsewhere. She actually expected him to be "typical" Ryan and say something along the lines of 'Yeah, sorry, okay, gotta go' and walk out. Not to say she didn't welcome it, it was just... completely unexpected. She jumped a little and looked at his hand there, then up at his face, struggling to keep her own in check. It was the first time the two had had any physical contact since she'd "hugged" him at the museum and then run off. Startling, yes. Why start now? She couldn't break any more than she already had; he had already proved, several times over, to her that he didn't care, so why put forth the effort of opening up now, when she would be so vulnerable that if one part of her wall fell down, it might all crumble, and that just couldn't happen to her. Not now, not ever. However, instead of pushing him away, or threatening to rip his arm off, like he was probably expecting, Xzandr let him be. If she ever worked up the nerve to grow a pair and try to open up to him again, he would never allow her close enough if she harmed him now. She doubted he ever wanted to talk to her again anyway, and ever a bitch like her could appreciate the immense courage that was keeping him here now. She fell silent once again, unsure of what to say. What, was she supposed to thank him for being there? He wasn't ding much good, at any rate, only serving, to her, as a figure keeping her from any sort of true emotional outlet, which would probably result in an ulcer or two down the road. Sure, his touch was a bit of a comfort, but not nearly so much as pretty much anything else would have been. Besides, he should have been there anyway. It was his damn kid, he had a legal obligation, if not moral, to be there for her, if only until someone from the NICU came up to inform her that the kid was dead. She, of course, would never bother with the legal system, or forcing Ryan to be involved, nor would she force him to not be involved. If he wanted to, great, he could, if he didn't want to, fine, then he wasn't going to. She might yell at him to do one or the other, but as far as getting a court order for him to help out or stay the hell away, she wasn't willing to put forth such tremendous effort. She would also likely play it off as not giving a damn either way; like he simply wasn't worth her time or emotions.
» Oh, who was she kidding? She couldn't just let go of him. Sure, on the outside, maybe even verbally, all she cared about as far as Ryan went was getting laid, or someone to dump her stories and bitchiness on, someone who was basically a captive audience, who wouldn't dare fight back. She had never truly given any indication that he meant anything besides that to her, and if she ever had her way, it would stay thus. But, in some ways, she was like that guy in Brokeback Mountain- she couldn't quit him. She might bitch, moan, and complain every time he came around. She might yell at him, call him names, throw things at him, or try to shove things into his anal cavity every time he approached her, but no matter what she tried on her own private time, he never left the dark corners in the back of her mind. Even when she was still super-pissed at him for not stepping up- like when he let her walk away at the museum, instead of following again to talk to her- he was still there. She would sit in her office and fume about him, but part of her just wanted him there, so she could bone him again. No matter how much she hated him, she couldn't lie to herself- he was a sexy beast. While a good majority of her wanted him there just for the awesome sex, there was a small part- very small, enough so that, whenever she considered it, she immediately drowned it with drugs or something else mind-occupying- that wanted him there for him. He might not be the greatest conversationalist, or by any means a great companion as far as keeping her amused, but at least he didn't tell her to shut the fuck up whenever she started on one of those stories. Somehow, his reclusiveness, his tendency to keep to himself and tell nobody anything that they didn't specifically ask to know... well, it was kind of alluring, charming, even. But she would never let him know this full-on. Maybe in short, almost indiscernible hints, at times when he'd have to actually look for the signs, but never actually tell him. Even she didn't have the guts to say so.
» Suddenly, she was hit with the inexplicable urge to go down and see the kid for herself. Maybe her being there would encourage him enough to fight until medicine was enough to help him grow, or discourage him enough to help him die quickly. Obviously, she would much rather he survive, because of the unwanted "I'm sorry"-saying- god help any unsuspecting nurse trying to offer her sympathy for the death of her baby- and funerals just weren't her thing, but either way, she wanted to know. He wouldn't get better any time in the foreseeable future, and it would be a good while before he would be in the clear enough to where the NICU staff could say with any certainty that he would make it, but if he was indeed going to croak, she didn't want to sit around with her head up her own ass, watching him suffer before he finally met his untimely end. Unlike the patients she saw, it wasn't a matter of wanting them to live as long as possible, or giving them the best quality of the life they did still have left. This kid, if the prematurity was going to kill him, would not have any quality of life. All he would know was, most likely, pain and tubes. It wasn't like he had any real family to mourn him, anyway... If he was going to die, decided Xzandr, he'd better do it quickly, and do them all a favor. Sadistic as she was, she didn't want to watch something that had fifty percent of her DNA sequence suffer to death.
» But now she was faced with a challenge- how to get there without Ryan knowing. Sure, it might be easy to get him out of the room, but not if she ever wanted to speak to him again; and she doubted simply asking him to leave so she could get some rest would do any good either. It might be easier for her to simply admit she wanted to go see the kid, hell Ryan might even be vital in keeping her off the floor if he chose to come along. But what if he was the opposite of that? What if he refused to let her go? She was in no condition to be out of bed, let alone wandering the hallways. And what if he decided to make sure she wouldn't go, and strapped her into bed? Not like he would actually do such a thing, but Ryan was somewhat of a loose cannon, unpredictable in part. She couldn't risk him keeping her down. After a second of thought, she knew what she had to do, and had to use all of her self-control not to allow that familiar "haha, I'm a genius 'cause I just figured out a plan" grin to creep its way onto her face. Of course, she had to take another couple of seconds to tie up the loose ends in her head, lest there be any holes Ryan could poke in her story before she wanted him to. "Could... could you, ummm..." she started, trying her best not to sound like she was speaking of what actually was a carefully calculated plan. "Could you go to my office and grab my cane and a..." she paused for a second, as if in thought, before continuing, "Watermelon lollipop? The door should still be unlocked..." Should he ask why, she had an excuse in mind, though given the gravity of the situation, she doubted he would ask any questions.
» She gave a relieved sigh as Ryan left the room and, fighting the pain, sat herself completely up and slid out of bed, clenching hard down on her teeth so she wouldn't howl in pain. Damn, it hurt- and she had no doubt that she'd end up having to re-stitch herself once or twice before the end of the day. But, she had places to go, and it wasn't like she wasn't in constant pain anyway... Like she did when she was first detoxing, she pushed the pain, the nausea, everything, aside so she could function. She sat back down and took out all her IVs, setting them gently down on the bed, before standing back up and stumbling her way out of the room. Of course, she couldn't just go straight to the NICU; a pit stop or two was required, so she wasn't, at least immediately, caught and forced to return to her room. She slid into the supply closet first, and grabbed some gauze and some medical tape, and then a set of scrubs- the scrubs being because, if she were a patient walking around without the IV pole, that would send up a honking sign to all nurses, and the gauze because she didn't want blood from her incision to soak through. Once she'd changed into the blue scrubs and white shoes, and applied the backup gauze, she slipped back out of the closet, and headed toward her original destination.
» Stepping into the NICU was like stepping onto some weird foreign country, of which she knew no language, no customs, and none of the people. Luckily, though, as she walked in, she wasn't greeted by some obnoxiously cheerful nurse, and the few people that were there with their own sick or premature babies didn't bother to look up; they were busy with their own kids, didn't really give a damn about someone else wandering in. But then she realized- she had no damn clue which one was hers. As she stood somewhat near the entrance, she was hit with a sudden feeling of being lost, and as she looked over the various incubators and suchlike, all of their contents looked alike, though size did vary a bit. Her obvious first instinct was to find one with nobody by it- she doubted anyone else would be sitting beside her kid like those parents were, unless they were still trying to stabilize him. Slowly, as if she knew where she was going, she walked toward where they seemed to be keeping the smaller newborns, hoping to find some evidence to help her in her little quest. Just before she gave up, she found one with stats that could only come from hers: Baby boy House, 21 weeks, five days. 13 ounces. She looked to her right and saw a small rocking chair, which she immediately grabbed and dragged over, slowly lowering herself into it. God, he was so small... It wasn't like she was expecting to find him all ten pounds and healthy-looking, but the tininess of the newborn hit her like a ton of bricks. It was just so shocking, both the fact that something so small was still alive, and that they could find places to put all the wires and tubes and needles they had in him, currently keeping him alive.
» Swallowing hard, she rested her head on the side of the isolette, her hand near one of the holes. Even though she could very well reach in and touch him- there was nothing stopping her, per se- she didn't dare. He looked so small and frail, she was afraid that if she even gave him the tiniest of touches, he would turn to dust. So she just watched him, sitting there beside him, until she could fully compile the motivational- or whatever one chose to call something from her- speech she knew had to be given. "Listen, kid. None of that dying bullshit, capiche?" Her words were soft, so that she didn't have a horde of angry parents telling her to get the fuck out, but if someone were standing, say, a few feet behind her, they could very well hear her. "If you're going to exist, and you're going to have half of my DNA, you are my bitch for the next eighteen years. And if you die, you're grounded, got it? I will chase you down to hell, and you will be grounded. Forever." Which begs the question, why would an innocent newborn be going to Hell? Not that anybody would ask, but if they did, Xzandr had a simple explanation for just this purpose- guilt by association. She figured anything that came out of her body had to be pure, concentrated evil, and therefore bound for hell.
» Being touched was completely unexpected. Actually, she hadn't even noticed Ryan approach, since her mind was so occupied elsewhere. She actually expected him to be "typical" Ryan and say something along the lines of 'Yeah, sorry, okay, gotta go' and walk out. Not to say she didn't welcome it, it was just... completely unexpected. She jumped a little and looked at his hand there, then up at his face, struggling to keep her own in check. It was the first time the two had had any physical contact since she'd "hugged" him at the museum and then run off. Startling, yes. Why start now? She couldn't break any more than she already had; he had already proved, several times over, to her that he didn't care, so why put forth the effort of opening up now, when she would be so vulnerable that if one part of her wall fell down, it might all crumble, and that just couldn't happen to her. Not now, not ever. However, instead of pushing him away, or threatening to rip his arm off, like he was probably expecting, Xzandr let him be. If she ever worked up the nerve to grow a pair and try to open up to him again, he would never allow her close enough if she harmed him now. She doubted he ever wanted to talk to her again anyway, and ever a bitch like her could appreciate the immense courage that was keeping him here now. She fell silent once again, unsure of what to say. What, was she supposed to thank him for being there? He wasn't ding much good, at any rate, only serving, to her, as a figure keeping her from any sort of true emotional outlet, which would probably result in an ulcer or two down the road. Sure, his touch was a bit of a comfort, but not nearly so much as pretty much anything else would have been. Besides, he should have been there anyway. It was his damn kid, he had a legal obligation, if not moral, to be there for her, if only until someone from the NICU came up to inform her that the kid was dead. She, of course, would never bother with the legal system, or forcing Ryan to be involved, nor would she force him to not be involved. If he wanted to, great, he could, if he didn't want to, fine, then he wasn't going to. She might yell at him to do one or the other, but as far as getting a court order for him to help out or stay the hell away, she wasn't willing to put forth such tremendous effort. She would also likely play it off as not giving a damn either way; like he simply wasn't worth her time or emotions.
» Oh, who was she kidding? She couldn't just let go of him. Sure, on the outside, maybe even verbally, all she cared about as far as Ryan went was getting laid, or someone to dump her stories and bitchiness on, someone who was basically a captive audience, who wouldn't dare fight back. She had never truly given any indication that he meant anything besides that to her, and if she ever had her way, it would stay thus. But, in some ways, she was like that guy in Brokeback Mountain- she couldn't quit him. She might bitch, moan, and complain every time he came around. She might yell at him, call him names, throw things at him, or try to shove things into his anal cavity every time he approached her, but no matter what she tried on her own private time, he never left the dark corners in the back of her mind. Even when she was still super-pissed at him for not stepping up- like when he let her walk away at the museum, instead of following again to talk to her- he was still there. She would sit in her office and fume about him, but part of her just wanted him there, so she could bone him again. No matter how much she hated him, she couldn't lie to herself- he was a sexy beast. While a good majority of her wanted him there just for the awesome sex, there was a small part- very small, enough so that, whenever she considered it, she immediately drowned it with drugs or something else mind-occupying- that wanted him there for him. He might not be the greatest conversationalist, or by any means a great companion as far as keeping her amused, but at least he didn't tell her to shut the fuck up whenever she started on one of those stories. Somehow, his reclusiveness, his tendency to keep to himself and tell nobody anything that they didn't specifically ask to know... well, it was kind of alluring, charming, even. But she would never let him know this full-on. Maybe in short, almost indiscernible hints, at times when he'd have to actually look for the signs, but never actually tell him. Even she didn't have the guts to say so.
» Suddenly, she was hit with the inexplicable urge to go down and see the kid for herself. Maybe her being there would encourage him enough to fight until medicine was enough to help him grow, or discourage him enough to help him die quickly. Obviously, she would much rather he survive, because of the unwanted "I'm sorry"-saying- god help any unsuspecting nurse trying to offer her sympathy for the death of her baby- and funerals just weren't her thing, but either way, she wanted to know. He wouldn't get better any time in the foreseeable future, and it would be a good while before he would be in the clear enough to where the NICU staff could say with any certainty that he would make it, but if he was indeed going to croak, she didn't want to sit around with her head up her own ass, watching him suffer before he finally met his untimely end. Unlike the patients she saw, it wasn't a matter of wanting them to live as long as possible, or giving them the best quality of the life they did still have left. This kid, if the prematurity was going to kill him, would not have any quality of life. All he would know was, most likely, pain and tubes. It wasn't like he had any real family to mourn him, anyway... If he was going to die, decided Xzandr, he'd better do it quickly, and do them all a favor. Sadistic as she was, she didn't want to watch something that had fifty percent of her DNA sequence suffer to death.
» But now she was faced with a challenge- how to get there without Ryan knowing. Sure, it might be easy to get him out of the room, but not if she ever wanted to speak to him again; and she doubted simply asking him to leave so she could get some rest would do any good either. It might be easier for her to simply admit she wanted to go see the kid, hell Ryan might even be vital in keeping her off the floor if he chose to come along. But what if he was the opposite of that? What if he refused to let her go? She was in no condition to be out of bed, let alone wandering the hallways. And what if he decided to make sure she wouldn't go, and strapped her into bed? Not like he would actually do such a thing, but Ryan was somewhat of a loose cannon, unpredictable in part. She couldn't risk him keeping her down. After a second of thought, she knew what she had to do, and had to use all of her self-control not to allow that familiar "haha, I'm a genius 'cause I just figured out a plan" grin to creep its way onto her face. Of course, she had to take another couple of seconds to tie up the loose ends in her head, lest there be any holes Ryan could poke in her story before she wanted him to. "Could... could you, ummm..." she started, trying her best not to sound like she was speaking of what actually was a carefully calculated plan. "Could you go to my office and grab my cane and a..." she paused for a second, as if in thought, before continuing, "Watermelon lollipop? The door should still be unlocked..." Should he ask why, she had an excuse in mind, though given the gravity of the situation, she doubted he would ask any questions.
» She gave a relieved sigh as Ryan left the room and, fighting the pain, sat herself completely up and slid out of bed, clenching hard down on her teeth so she wouldn't howl in pain. Damn, it hurt- and she had no doubt that she'd end up having to re-stitch herself once or twice before the end of the day. But, she had places to go, and it wasn't like she wasn't in constant pain anyway... Like she did when she was first detoxing, she pushed the pain, the nausea, everything, aside so she could function. She sat back down and took out all her IVs, setting them gently down on the bed, before standing back up and stumbling her way out of the room. Of course, she couldn't just go straight to the NICU; a pit stop or two was required, so she wasn't, at least immediately, caught and forced to return to her room. She slid into the supply closet first, and grabbed some gauze and some medical tape, and then a set of scrubs- the scrubs being because, if she were a patient walking around without the IV pole, that would send up a honking sign to all nurses, and the gauze because she didn't want blood from her incision to soak through. Once she'd changed into the blue scrubs and white shoes, and applied the backup gauze, she slipped back out of the closet, and headed toward her original destination.
» Stepping into the NICU was like stepping onto some weird foreign country, of which she knew no language, no customs, and none of the people. Luckily, though, as she walked in, she wasn't greeted by some obnoxiously cheerful nurse, and the few people that were there with their own sick or premature babies didn't bother to look up; they were busy with their own kids, didn't really give a damn about someone else wandering in. But then she realized- she had no damn clue which one was hers. As she stood somewhat near the entrance, she was hit with a sudden feeling of being lost, and as she looked over the various incubators and suchlike, all of their contents looked alike, though size did vary a bit. Her obvious first instinct was to find one with nobody by it- she doubted anyone else would be sitting beside her kid like those parents were, unless they were still trying to stabilize him. Slowly, as if she knew where she was going, she walked toward where they seemed to be keeping the smaller newborns, hoping to find some evidence to help her in her little quest. Just before she gave up, she found one with stats that could only come from hers: Baby boy House, 21 weeks, five days. 13 ounces. She looked to her right and saw a small rocking chair, which she immediately grabbed and dragged over, slowly lowering herself into it. God, he was so small... It wasn't like she was expecting to find him all ten pounds and healthy-looking, but the tininess of the newborn hit her like a ton of bricks. It was just so shocking, both the fact that something so small was still alive, and that they could find places to put all the wires and tubes and needles they had in him, currently keeping him alive.
» Swallowing hard, she rested her head on the side of the isolette, her hand near one of the holes. Even though she could very well reach in and touch him- there was nothing stopping her, per se- she didn't dare. He looked so small and frail, she was afraid that if she even gave him the tiniest of touches, he would turn to dust. So she just watched him, sitting there beside him, until she could fully compile the motivational- or whatever one chose to call something from her- speech she knew had to be given. "Listen, kid. None of that dying bullshit, capiche?" Her words were soft, so that she didn't have a horde of angry parents telling her to get the fuck out, but if someone were standing, say, a few feet behind her, they could very well hear her. "If you're going to exist, and you're going to have half of my DNA, you are my bitch for the next eighteen years. And if you die, you're grounded, got it? I will chase you down to hell, and you will be grounded. Forever." Which begs the question, why would an innocent newborn be going to Hell? Not that anybody would ask, but if they did, Xzandr had a simple explanation for just this purpose- guilt by association. She figured anything that came out of her body had to be pure, concentrated evil, and therefore bound for hell.
Codeword: *exposes ‘giner*
