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(no subject)
Jun. 1st, 2012 07:46 pmThere were some moments when Chase felt like he existed as nothing more than an annotated mark in one of his father's books. The definitive book of rheumatology doesn't even mention that Rowan Chase had a family. There was no hint of the wife he abandoned, nor the son that he thought inconvenient or the too-late daughter who followed in her mother's footsteps. He was hired by House because of a phone call that his father made out of some delayed guilt and didn't even bother to call and congratulate him.
(Is congratulations merited when the job's been secured for you through bribery? He wasn't sure about that)
And then, and then Rowan Chase swooped back into his life for all of a measly few days under the excuse that Chase was suddenly worth seeing, but only for so long and never with the truth. At the time, he'd been grateful deep down beneath the loathing and the anger. Three months later, he forgot how to be anything but lost.
Cancer.
His father had been dying when he'd visited. He'd been dying and he hadn't told Chase. House had figured it out and he hadn't told Chase. He'd come to see him off and he hadn't told Chase and the only thing that he did manage to do was marry a woman who knew well-enough to call her stepson the moment that his estranged father passed away. Chase would never forget that phone call. He didn't think he had it in him to forget, but not just for the numbness that pervaded, but the moment after.
This moment.
"Dr. Chase?"
It was a ghost's voice. It was a ghost and instead of being in his nightmares, she was standing right behind him and there was a phone in his hand and he could swear that he'd gone to bed. Vision blurry with tears over a man who had died so long ago and who had given him nothing, he turned around and stared at Kayla, unable to manage any semblance of the English language.
"Hi," she said, without a single hint of awareness of what was coming -- of what she was about to lose.
And so, here Chase was, on the cusp of making the biggest mistake of his career because of his father.
Or maybe he had it all wrong. Maybe even this wouldn't have made it into one of his father's books. Maybe even this, this last ignorance wouldn't even rate.
(Is congratulations merited when the job's been secured for you through bribery? He wasn't sure about that)
And then, and then Rowan Chase swooped back into his life for all of a measly few days under the excuse that Chase was suddenly worth seeing, but only for so long and never with the truth. At the time, he'd been grateful deep down beneath the loathing and the anger. Three months later, he forgot how to be anything but lost.
Cancer.
His father had been dying when he'd visited. He'd been dying and he hadn't told Chase. House had figured it out and he hadn't told Chase. He'd come to see him off and he hadn't told Chase and the only thing that he did manage to do was marry a woman who knew well-enough to call her stepson the moment that his estranged father passed away. Chase would never forget that phone call. He didn't think he had it in him to forget, but not just for the numbness that pervaded, but the moment after.
This moment.
"Dr. Chase?"
It was a ghost's voice. It was a ghost and instead of being in his nightmares, she was standing right behind him and there was a phone in his hand and he could swear that he'd gone to bed. Vision blurry with tears over a man who had died so long ago and who had given him nothing, he turned around and stared at Kayla, unable to manage any semblance of the English language.
"Hi," she said, without a single hint of awareness of what was coming -- of what she was about to lose.
And so, here Chase was, on the cusp of making the biggest mistake of his career because of his father.
Or maybe he had it all wrong. Maybe even this wouldn't have made it into one of his father's books. Maybe even this, this last ignorance wouldn't even rate.
(no subject)
Apr. 30th, 2012 10:18 amBack in his residency, Chase had done rotations in a handful of fields -- surgical, the NICU, and psychology -- and of the three, he hadn't really expected the latter two to win out. He was an intensivist at heart, but there wasn't a market for that on the island. He'd had to adjust. There were simple parts to that sort of adjustment and there were the harder days. Part of that difficulty lay in the fact that working in psychology gave him the inclination to know when he needed to ask for help.
It only intensified when the Doctor could see the same, just as clearly.
Now that they were better-staffed, Chase felt like he could book a session without overwhelming any of the team. He'd made an appointment with Xavier for weeks in advance, as if that would somehow make it easier to cope with. The trouble with postponing something, though, meant that it inevitably snuck up on you. The day had come and Chase could either do the mature thing and stay or run.
Five years ago, he might have done the latter without even thinking twice. He'd like to think that he was a different man, now. Instead of running, he stayed. He stayed and sat and prepared himself for something he'd been putting off for too long. "If you're amenable to it," he began, "I'd like to sit down once every two weeks. I think some sessions are an overdue thing, for me."
It only intensified when the Doctor could see the same, just as clearly.
Now that they were better-staffed, Chase felt like he could book a session without overwhelming any of the team. He'd made an appointment with Xavier for weeks in advance, as if that would somehow make it easier to cope with. The trouble with postponing something, though, meant that it inevitably snuck up on you. The day had come and Chase could either do the mature thing and stay or run.
Five years ago, he might have done the latter without even thinking twice. He'd like to think that he was a different man, now. Instead of running, he stayed. He stayed and sat and prepared himself for something he'd been putting off for too long. "If you're amenable to it," he began, "I'd like to sit down once every two weeks. I think some sessions are an overdue thing, for me."
(no subject)
Feb. 14th, 2012 03:19 pmBy now, six years and counting, Chase should have been ready for whatever he had to come up against. He should have been expecting the worst and thought -- stupidly, stupidly thought -- that whatever this place had for him, it couldn't be worse than what he'd already lived through. It was bad enough to see both your parents leave you again (whether by death or disappearance), bad enough to have a near-death experience, to constantly lose everyone you ever loved, but the one thing this place had never done was take him back to the harrowing moments he had growing up.
At least, not until today.
He'd been downstairs, in Gwen's old room, trying to figure out whether they could shift the space around. One moment, it was the spare room with its dusty floors and the empty bed. He blinked, only closed his eyes for a second, but when he opened them, he knew that smell. He knew the feeling of being closed in, and he swore he could even smell the faint aroma of gin in the air. Chase felt a sick lurching in his stomach.
"No," he begged, terrified that he was right back to where it all started.
What if, behind this door, his mother was drinking herself into a stupor. What if his father has left for months? What if he finds his baby sister, what if -- what if what if. Chase slams both palms against the door, feeling a stricken with panic as memories filter back and he remembers, all too well, the begging and the shouting and the pleading he did to get out of this room. The books were the same, the leather armchair still had the cigar burn in the arm, and the carpet had that same old musty smell from too many glasses of scotch and gin spilled on it.
"Let me out!" he shouted, his voice catching. "Let me out of here! Let me..." he trails off, a weak and frustrated exhalation of 'Mum, please' on his breath before he slams his palms harder against the locked door, struggling with the antiquated copper knob.
At least, not until today.
He'd been downstairs, in Gwen's old room, trying to figure out whether they could shift the space around. One moment, it was the spare room with its dusty floors and the empty bed. He blinked, only closed his eyes for a second, but when he opened them, he knew that smell. He knew the feeling of being closed in, and he swore he could even smell the faint aroma of gin in the air. Chase felt a sick lurching in his stomach.
"No," he begged, terrified that he was right back to where it all started.
What if, behind this door, his mother was drinking herself into a stupor. What if his father has left for months? What if he finds his baby sister, what if -- what if what if. Chase slams both palms against the door, feeling a stricken with panic as memories filter back and he remembers, all too well, the begging and the shouting and the pleading he did to get out of this room. The books were the same, the leather armchair still had the cigar burn in the arm, and the carpet had that same old musty smell from too many glasses of scotch and gin spilled on it.
"Let me out!" he shouted, his voice catching. "Let me out of here! Let me..." he trails off, a weak and frustrated exhalation of 'Mum, please' on his breath before he slams his palms harder against the locked door, struggling with the antiquated copper knob.
(no subject)
Jan. 18th, 2012 07:55 pmIt was the nature of the business on the island that there weren't too many new patients, so when Chase had someone that was coming in for the first time, he devoted the whole day to preparing for it. He knew very little about her other than her willingness to come in; though that alone already made the situation better than its possible equivalents. He'd set aside a folder and a span of space in which they wouldn't be disturbed. He didn't know how long she wanted to talk.
That was, of course, if there would be much talking. He'd anticipating this as a possibility, but he always felt like he was slightly useless when it turned into a game of verbal chicken -- both of them searching for something to say or trying to avoid speaking at all. He scribbled in his notebook -- if, well, small sketches of coffee cups could really be called scribbles -- and he let her stay silent in her chair.
He did that for fifteen minutes to give her some manner of comfort and a feeling that she could indulge in behaviour that made her feel comfortable. They were there to talk about something though and even if he only scratched the surface, he wanted to touch to it. "Do you like biscuits?" he asked, finally. "I have a sweet tooth. I don't like to indulge it too often because it's, well, unhealthy, but I'm married to someone who lets me have too much sugar in everything. I keep some in the drawer, if you're hungry."
That was, of course, if there would be much talking. He'd anticipating this as a possibility, but he always felt like he was slightly useless when it turned into a game of verbal chicken -- both of them searching for something to say or trying to avoid speaking at all. He scribbled in his notebook -- if, well, small sketches of coffee cups could really be called scribbles -- and he let her stay silent in her chair.
He did that for fifteen minutes to give her some manner of comfort and a feeling that she could indulge in behaviour that made her feel comfortable. They were there to talk about something though and even if he only scratched the surface, he wanted to touch to it. "Do you like biscuits?" he asked, finally. "I have a sweet tooth. I don't like to indulge it too often because it's, well, unhealthy, but I'm married to someone who lets me have too much sugar in everything. I keep some in the drawer, if you're hungry."
(no subject)
Jan. 10th, 2012 06:07 pmSince he was just a child, Chase had been brought up to learn that God punished the wicked and the wicked earned such a punishment for their sins. Even though he never had the faith to make it through seminary, he couldn't quite shake the notion that bad people deserved penance. It hadn't exactly been helped by having to watch his mother drink herself down a dark hole. Bad actions make good people into sinners.
This, more than anything, was why Chase was feeling uneasy. He worked at the Compound, he saw the changes on a day-to-day basis and the latest one he'd witnessed when picking Nate up from the Children's Office had him slightly uneasy. He sent Nate off to play when he returned to the Treehouse -- or, rather, the Victorian estimation of the thing -- and leaned on the bedroom door. "You have a minute?" he asked, of the Doctor. "I wanted to talk."
This, more than anything, was why Chase was feeling uneasy. He worked at the Compound, he saw the changes on a day-to-day basis and the latest one he'd witnessed when picking Nate up from the Children's Office had him slightly uneasy. He sent Nate off to play when he returned to the Treehouse -- or, rather, the Victorian estimation of the thing -- and leaned on the bedroom door. "You have a minute?" he asked, of the Doctor. "I wanted to talk."
(no subject)
Jul. 30th, 2011 06:58 pmChase swore to his bones that he could feel whenever something strange was coming on. Maybe he couldn't actually, but he'd written a thesis about the damn place. It was why, when he woke up, the first thing he did was roll onto his back, stare at the ceiling, and without even looking at himself, he uttered a loud 'fuck'.
Then he shut up because Nate might have heard and the last thing Chase needed was for Nate to pick up on the fact that his Dad's swearing away like a sailor.
He didn't risk looking over just yet, tugging the covers up even higher -- grateful that he'd worn a t-shirt and shorts to bed. He could feel the itch of the hair at the nape of his neck, the weight of his body resettled in new places, the muscles shifted. He didn't have to look to know those things. He just did.
"Fuck," he muttered again, quieter.
Then he shut up because Nate might have heard and the last thing Chase needed was for Nate to pick up on the fact that his Dad's swearing away like a sailor.
He didn't risk looking over just yet, tugging the covers up even higher -- grateful that he'd worn a t-shirt and shorts to bed. He could feel the itch of the hair at the nape of his neck, the weight of his body resettled in new places, the muscles shifted. He didn't have to look to know those things. He just did.
"Fuck," he muttered again, quieter.
(no subject)
May. 29th, 2011 09:52 pmHe's taken up running again.
It's been years since he's run like this -- as though he's running to get somewhere rather than just going out there for the pleasure of his blood pumping harder than ever. He's winded earlier than he thinks he ought to be, but keeps going. The sun beats down on him and sand and dirt combine to get into his socks, but he keeps running.
It's easy to put aside thoughts of people and clones and mothers of children and just about everything that's bugging him when all Chase can do is pull in one ragged breath after the other. It starts to hurt, but that's when Chase starts to think of the run as being effective. His lungs ache, his skin is overheating, but he's nearing home. He just needs to run a little more and then he'll be home. He'll be able to sleep without thought, passing out without having to think about anything.
He's wheezing by the time he gets back into the Treehouse, nudging off his sneakers and throwing them off into the foyer before bending over at the knees. He hauled himself up to stand up straight as he could as he inched his way inside, breathing hard and heavy. "Fuck," he breathed out raggedly, jabbing a palm to his side when the throbbing pain was joined by a certain familiar dizziness.
He grasped at the wall of the front hall, trying to get a hold of himself before he turned into a fainting idiot.
It's been years since he's run like this -- as though he's running to get somewhere rather than just going out there for the pleasure of his blood pumping harder than ever. He's winded earlier than he thinks he ought to be, but keeps going. The sun beats down on him and sand and dirt combine to get into his socks, but he keeps running.
It's easy to put aside thoughts of people and clones and mothers of children and just about everything that's bugging him when all Chase can do is pull in one ragged breath after the other. It starts to hurt, but that's when Chase starts to think of the run as being effective. His lungs ache, his skin is overheating, but he's nearing home. He just needs to run a little more and then he'll be home. He'll be able to sleep without thought, passing out without having to think about anything.
He's wheezing by the time he gets back into the Treehouse, nudging off his sneakers and throwing them off into the foyer before bending over at the knees. He hauled himself up to stand up straight as he could as he inched his way inside, breathing hard and heavy. "Fuck," he breathed out raggedly, jabbing a palm to his side when the throbbing pain was joined by a certain familiar dizziness.
He grasped at the wall of the front hall, trying to get a hold of himself before he turned into a fainting idiot.
There was a part of Chase that had come to believe that if you avoided a situation for long enough, you could pretend it didn't exist. That was his father's lesson to him. His mother's lesson was that you buried your head so far into a vice that you were too deep to get out when you realized it was too late (if you realized).
So, yeah, it wasn't exactly healthy to do what he did, but it was a preferred method of choice after his mother.
He couldn't avoid Rose because of his own worries and insecurities. Each time he'd met her before, she had been sweet and good and that had been part of why he was so worried. They were all amazing, those companions and people that the Doctor collected. How could he compare? But he had to face the music.
He started to do his paperwork inside the TARDIS on the thought that one day, he wouldn't be the only one in there. Jack came and went, but he was waiting for a companion of a different nature.
So, yeah, it wasn't exactly healthy to do what he did, but it was a preferred method of choice after his mother.
He couldn't avoid Rose because of his own worries and insecurities. Each time he'd met her before, she had been sweet and good and that had been part of why he was so worried. They were all amazing, those companions and people that the Doctor collected. How could he compare? But he had to face the music.
He started to do his paperwork inside the TARDIS on the thought that one day, he wouldn't be the only one in there. Jack came and went, but he was waiting for a companion of a different nature.
(no subject)
Feb. 16th, 2011 08:00 pmDespite a storied history of not being able to actually make bad issues go away by ignoring them, Chase hadn't really learned his lesson. When his father got to town, he tried to bury everything. When his mother got sick, he stuck his head in the sand for a while. When he killed a woman because of his own neglect, he just tried to pretend it never happened.
When Rose Tyler showed up again, Chase did the immature thing and booked it away from the Treehouse, spending an inordinate amount of time at the clinic and with Nate at the children's office. He slept at home, but that was about it. Still, there were some appointments he couldn't avoid, so he was still in the clinic on Wednesday with a sheath of papers to update islander files based on disappearances and current patients.
When Rose Tyler showed up again, Chase did the immature thing and booked it away from the Treehouse, spending an inordinate amount of time at the clinic and with Nate at the children's office. He slept at home, but that was about it. Still, there were some appointments he couldn't avoid, so he was still in the clinic on Wednesday with a sheath of papers to update islander files based on disappearances and current patients.
[For the Doctor]
Dec. 28th, 2010 05:12 pmAs far as Chase was concerned, there was patience and then there came a point when you weren't being patient anymore -- you were just being silly. He was still letting weeks go by with the Doctor, expecting that any day (any shift), a thesis was going to wind up on his desk so that he could present it to the current group at the Office as well as the Council.
And it still didn't come.
Which meant that patience was fast fading and now he was starting to worry that it was never going to happen. So, instead of just avoiding the subject like he might have done, he was waiting in the living room for the Doctor to return.
And he had the partial work in hand.
And it still didn't come.
Which meant that patience was fast fading and now he was starting to worry that it was never going to happen. So, instead of just avoiding the subject like he might have done, he was waiting in the living room for the Doctor to return.
And he had the partial work in hand.
[Bodyswitch]
Jun. 29th, 2010 05:08 pmOccasionally, Chase loathed the island. Usually when he found himself elsewhere, he really hated it. He supposed that it wasn't so bad this time around. He was in his own body, Nate was safe, and only the Doctor was being inhabited by someone else, who was actually pretty nice. He definitely recalled a couple times too many in which that wasn't the case.
Still, it meant that there was a lot of madness to deal with and a lot of after-effect that spilled in later and he didn't exactly love that. While the woman in the Doctor's body was taking care of Nate, Chase was taking a walk to try and clear his head. Plus, at some point, he really did want to actually find the Doctor. Losing one's spouse wasn't exactly carved in the manual of good marriages.
Still, it meant that there was a lot of madness to deal with and a lot of after-effect that spilled in later and he didn't exactly love that. While the woman in the Doctor's body was taking care of Nate, Chase was taking a walk to try and clear his head. Plus, at some point, he really did want to actually find the Doctor. Losing one's spouse wasn't exactly carved in the manual of good marriages.
[For the Doctor]
May. 9th, 2010 05:41 pmThings were getting slightly ridiculous.
At first, he could write it off as stress-related insomnia, but then he was only getting two or three hours a night and while it let him function, it didn't leave him very hospitable or warm or friendly. Actually, it sort of left him mostly...useless. He shifted in bed with another heavy sigh, draping his arm around the Doctor's waist, as if that was somehow going to help him. At least it gave him the sense of comfort.
Maybe if he just waited a little longer, Nate would have a nightmare or need something. Which was a terrible thing to hope for, but at least it would give his mind something to occupy itself over. Another heavy sigh and he turned back to his back, arm draped over his eyes as he kicked the covers off and tried to start counting sheep.
...as if that had ever worked.
At first, he could write it off as stress-related insomnia, but then he was only getting two or three hours a night and while it let him function, it didn't leave him very hospitable or warm or friendly. Actually, it sort of left him mostly...useless. He shifted in bed with another heavy sigh, draping his arm around the Doctor's waist, as if that was somehow going to help him. At least it gave him the sense of comfort.
Maybe if he just waited a little longer, Nate would have a nightmare or need something. Which was a terrible thing to hope for, but at least it would give his mind something to occupy itself over. Another heavy sigh and he turned back to his back, arm draped over his eyes as he kicked the covers off and tried to start counting sheep.
...as if that had ever worked.
[For Rahne]
Jan. 3rd, 2010 08:07 pmChase wasn't sure that he'd ever be really used to the quiet of the psych office. Sure, even the clinic wasn't that busy, but there was the guarantee that if there was a sudden emergency, you would have to think on your feet and have steady hands as you operated on a person. Here, all you had was quiet. Even if there was an emergency, they took time. The mind was a complex and difficult thing to bear and Chase was still getting used to the pace, even if he knew the ins and chemical outs.
He was shuffling about the office as he put in his hours, sleeves rolled up and books being shelved away as he researched slightly more strange conditions to match the slightly strange people the Island tended to house.
He was shuffling about the office as he put in his hours, sleeves rolled up and books being shelved away as he researched slightly more strange conditions to match the slightly strange people the Island tended to house.
Archive - February
Nov. 13th, 2009 05:16 pmFebruary 16th:
Justin and Chase begin by talking about coffee and devole further into flirtation.
February 17th:
Chase spends his time studying in the TARDIS and deliberately allows the Doctor to read through his journal that he's kept since throwing the last one to sea.
February 18th:
Death comes to visit Chase and confess her troubles. Specifically that she's an adulteress.
February 19th:
Mardi Gras wouldn't be a day of celebration without booze. House apologizes, Justin flirts, he and the Doctor make out, and he and Meredith Grey sneak away for some fun.
February 20th:
Chase dyes his hair a dark brown. Wilson discusses the hair and warns him about Delirium, Jack gets a little bit handsy, hair dye apparently brings out the Doctor's affectionate side, Jay teases (as you do), and Sirius evaluates the new 'do.
February 22nd:
House sees the new hair for the first time and the conversation shifts from hair to the events of Mardi Gras. It's not the best turn of talk.
February 24th:
Chase and Billy Prior meet. It goes fairly well considering how things get to be in the future.
Chase tracks down House to tell him that the Doctor has provided him a bed in his room in lieu of traditional gifts like jewellery.
Justin and Chase begin by talking about coffee and devole further into flirtation.
February 17th:
Chase spends his time studying in the TARDIS and deliberately allows the Doctor to read through his journal that he's kept since throwing the last one to sea.
February 18th:
Death comes to visit Chase and confess her troubles. Specifically that she's an adulteress.
February 19th:
Mardi Gras wouldn't be a day of celebration without booze. House apologizes, Justin flirts, he and the Doctor make out, and he and Meredith Grey sneak away for some fun.
February 20th:
Chase dyes his hair a dark brown. Wilson discusses the hair and warns him about Delirium, Jack gets a little bit handsy, hair dye apparently brings out the Doctor's affectionate side, Jay teases (as you do), and Sirius evaluates the new 'do.
February 22nd:
House sees the new hair for the first time and the conversation shifts from hair to the events of Mardi Gras. It's not the best turn of talk.
February 24th:
Chase and Billy Prior meet. It goes fairly well considering how things get to be in the future.
Chase tracks down House to tell him that the Doctor has provided him a bed in his room in lieu of traditional gifts like jewellery.
January 21st:
After a long night with House's issues, Chase lets Atalanta sniff at his heels before admitting to the Doctor that he feels left out of the strange relationship they're all in.
January 22nd:
In order to help the pain of his leg, House drinks. Chase, all too well-reminded of his mother, takes care of him.
January 24th:
Chase puts in his clinic hours. He and House have a talk to update where they stand with their relationship, the Doctor takes Chase to the TARDIS for the first time, Chase gets mother-henny on Jack and fights out about a fight, and tends to Wilson after said fight with Jack.
January 28th:
Wilson and Chase get into a fight that nearly pushes Wilson over the edge.
January 29th:
When House's pain gets to be nearly too much, Chase does whatever he can to try and help.
February 2nd:
Eostre and Mike come in for a sonogram and Chase revealsthat she's having twins.
February 3rd:
Chase gets high under the stars. Maureen and the Doctor join him in their own respective threads.
February 9th:
Chase finds Doctor after he's discovered Romana's disappearance. They pay their respects to her by remembering her.
February 10th:
Chase delivers Dixon Jones and thus has one of the happiest days of his life.
February 14th:
Chase gets accosted by an overly romantic Doctor under the influence of love-cheese.
Utterly unaffected by the strangeness, Chase comes across House who terrifies him by comparing him to herpes, Jay who plays a prank on Chase, Gwen who commiserates over the Doctor's madness, an overtly pleased Cuddy, Wilson who wants to get to the bottom of things, and Meredith who joins in Chase's misery.
After a long night with House's issues, Chase lets Atalanta sniff at his heels before admitting to the Doctor that he feels left out of the strange relationship they're all in.
January 22nd:
In order to help the pain of his leg, House drinks. Chase, all too well-reminded of his mother, takes care of him.
January 24th:
Chase puts in his clinic hours. He and House have a talk to update where they stand with their relationship, the Doctor takes Chase to the TARDIS for the first time, Chase gets mother-henny on Jack and fights out about a fight, and tends to Wilson after said fight with Jack.
January 28th:
Wilson and Chase get into a fight that nearly pushes Wilson over the edge.
January 29th:
When House's pain gets to be nearly too much, Chase does whatever he can to try and help.
February 2nd:
Eostre and Mike come in for a sonogram and Chase revealsthat she's having twins.
February 3rd:
Chase gets high under the stars. Maureen and the Doctor join him in their own respective threads.
February 9th:
Chase finds Doctor after he's discovered Romana's disappearance. They pay their respects to her by remembering her.
February 10th:
Chase delivers Dixon Jones and thus has one of the happiest days of his life.
February 14th:
Chase gets accosted by an overly romantic Doctor under the influence of love-cheese.
Utterly unaffected by the strangeness, Chase comes across House who terrifies him by comparing him to herpes, Jay who plays a prank on Chase, Gwen who commiserates over the Doctor's madness, an overtly pleased Cuddy, Wilson who wants to get to the bottom of things, and Meredith who joins in Chase's misery.
[For the Doctor]
May. 2nd, 2009 11:06 pmChase had been with Nate at Sirius' place for days now. One day had become two and more and more until the point that he was fairly sure he was avoiding home just because he was too chickenshit to go back and face the Doctor. He hated confrontation. The last thing he wanted to do was pick a fight about this. Still, he had to go to work and he was hesitant to let Nate out of his sight.
He shifted the boy in his arms as he closed Sirius' door behind him, holding him tight as he could. "Come on, little guy, off to work," he coaxed soft and gentle as he ruffled his hair and tried to ignore any guilt about not going home.
He shifted the boy in his arms as he closed Sirius' door behind him, holding him tight as he could. "Come on, little guy, off to work," he coaxed soft and gentle as he ruffled his hair and tried to ignore any guilt about not going home.
[Out of Character Plotting Post]
Jan. 17th, 2009 05:31 pmPresumably, our pups have lives that happen when we aren't playing them, as none of us can play 24/7. Some of the things that happen are tedious and everyday, and not worth thinking much on: It's fair to assume they eat, bathe, go to "work" or school as it applies, etc. But there might be things that happen between pups that, while not necessarily requiring a thread, are important to note for the sake of development. The important stuff should always be played out, but we know you can't always play everything, and sometimes you need a little nudge in the right direction.
PLOT GOES HERE.
[For Gwen]
Oct. 26th, 2008 08:22 pmChase, using his wiles and his dastardly plotting, had used all his skills and smarts to escape the Doctor when he had his first chance. Of course, that basically boiled down to the Doctor turning his back long enough for Chase to slip out the door and start sprinting for home so he could bury his head under the nearest pillow, cuddle up with Atalanta, and wait for the day to completely be over.
Before he could get completely inside, though, he saw Gwen on the path and changed course, charging right for her and leeching right onto her leg, attaching himself arms and legs like a very tiny, very blond koala.
"Hi," he offered, peering up at her from all, all, all, all the way down.
Before he could get completely inside, though, he saw Gwen on the path and changed course, charging right for her and leeching right onto her leg, attaching himself arms and legs like a very tiny, very blond koala.
"Hi," he offered, peering up at her from all, all, all, all the way down.
