Post by Dr. Gregory House on Mar 15, 2008 23:32:00 GMT -5
Gregory House
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behind the { s c e n e s }[/font][/i][/b][/SIZE][/color]
this is Kavonn and i got eightteen till my term is over. my prison is located at Texas and the only way you can reach me at here and PM[/i]. I’m planning my escape and noone[/i] will help me.
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Nickname(s); Greg, House
Age; 48
Gender; Male
Sexuality; Straight
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glamour in a { b o t t l e }
[/color][/center]Hair Style; short, gray/brown hair
Eyes; Blue
Celebrity; Hugh Laurie
Job; Head of the Department of Diagnostic Medicine
area; Infectious disease and nephrology
schooling; Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine,
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faux { a t t e n t i o n s }
[/b][/color][/font][/size][/center]*Music
*Jazz
*His guitar
*His piano
*Vicodin
*His job
*Mysteries
*Did I mention Vicodin?
*Being left alone
*Short tops on women
*Short skirts on women
*Getting what he wants
*More Vicodin
Dislikes;
*Being wrong
*Being proven wrong
*No Vicodin
*His leg when it hurts
*People who don’t let him get away with things (Cuddy)
*Having his theories proven wrong
*breaking a guitar string
*Losing at poker
*Children
*having his parking spot moved
Fears;
*Being wrong
*Getting hurt emotionally
*Not having Vicodin
Quirks/Flaws/Habits;
Having absurd theories
Likes to diagnosis patients but cares next to nothing about the patient
Taking large amounts of Vicodin and is addicted to it
Won’t admit he’s addicted to Vicodin
Goals;
Continue working as a doctor
Continue pulling Cuddy’s strings
Continue diagnosing patients
Secrets;
Most of his past
To people he newly meets, his leg
Personality;
House is, well House, but a need to describe his personality is always needed. Being the sarcastic antisocial doctor that he is, House enjoys making fun of and basically ruining everybody’s day whenever possible. His cunning wit and biting sarcasim is only matched by his ability to solve medical problems and pick people apart. While his medical ability to diagnosis patients is nearly unmatched, his bedside manner is, well, lacking.
He’s known to be rude, annoying, and downright mean to patients. He’s been known to frighten, blackmail, and lie to patients to get information he wants. And usually he gets away with it with nothing more then a warning from Cuddy. Although this is because of his ability to quickly diagnosis patients and get them out of his hair is probably the only reason he gets away with it.
He cares nothing about his appearance and cares even little for authority. His usual apperance, mostly consisting of an old t-shirt, jeans, and a sports coat; all while sporting a permanant stubble. His usual apperance and lack of a lab coat helps keep annoying people from asking if he's a doctor. Along with his clothing he always has his cane, mostly cause he needs it. Although not truly caring what cane he uses (unless it's one of the hospital issued ones) but at the moment he has a black cane with flames on it.
These, and many other character traits of House’s, led Dr. Wilson to thinking he had Asperger Syndrome, a mild form of autism. His resistance to change is another one of House’s character flaws, making it hard for him to change things like his décor or even his friends and colleges. His colleges usually have mixed views about him, many praise him for being good at his job but will instantly mark him for his callousness and aloofness with anything that doesn't concern with a case.
House is an atheist and will make fun of other’s religious beliefs, even his own, to get a reaction from someone. He only admits to having one friend, Dr. Wilson. How Dr. Wilson can put up with House is anything but a miricale, much of their time is spent harping on each other about the others short comings, but House has called Wilson his 'best friend' on occasion, mostly because Wilson is his only friend.
Mother; Blythe House
Father; John House
Siblings; None
Other Family; None known
History;
House was born a ‘military brat’, always moving around because of his father’s job as a Marine Corps pilot. Transferring around a lot allowed House to pick up many languages, of which he knows Spanish, Portuguese, Mandarin, Japanese, Hindu, and possibly many others. While in Egypt he picked up a treasure-hunting kit which he has kept well into adulthood. In Japan, he found the inspiration for his future job by watching a buraku doctor solve a case that no one else could. Seeing the buraku, one of Japans untouchables, solve something that even the so-called doctors couldn't solve showed that one didn't need to be thought highly of to be good a their job.
House loves his mother but hates his father. His father, a tough parental figure for House, use to use abuse as a form of punishment on House, including ice baths and having to sleep outside. House's other reason for hating his father is his high 'moral compass'.
House took a undergraduate degree at Johns Hopkins University and studied medicine there until he was caught cheating, he then enrolled at the University of Michigan and received his M.D. and met Lisa Cuddy, his future boss. Although neither has mentioned it, a form of sexual tension exists between the two, causing many to think that they once had a relationship of some sorts. Only time will tell if this is true.
House had a relationship with Stacey Warner, a lawyer. Their relationship lasted for near ten years until House developed an infarction in his right leg. House chose a dangerous method to save his right leg, and while in a coma, Stacey (as his medical proxy) chose a safer middle ground for House, resulting in a the chronic pain and weakened right leg. House could not forgive Stacey for her decision so she left him.
A while back House had to help figure out what was wrong with Stacey's huseband Mark. House saw this as a partial oppritunity to show off to Stacey and possibly make her and Mark miserable. But things didn't go quite as planned when House knew that his own feelings for Stacey's were not long dead and buried. He had to find out if Stacey still had such feelings for him. After a long cat and mouse game with Stacey thier feelings for each other finally came out, much to the dread of Wilson and Cuddy. Luckily, whether because of reason or for his own twisted reasons, House broke off their affair, leaving Stacey this time.
House now works at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital and spends most of his time curing patients and torturing his old 'lackys', Dr. Chase, Dr. Cameron, and Dr. Foreman; and his new ones, Dr. Taub, Dr. Kutner, and the attractive one, nicknamed 'Thirteen'.
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the director yells { c u t }
[/color][/center] Gray.
The light was gray.
David sat up in the bed. Not aware that he had fallen asleep or had awaken. It was just like he was turned on. He shook his head and turned and put his booted feet on the ground. He had fallen asleep on the bed fully clothed apparently and on top of the covers, too.
The light coming in from the window was gray lighting the sullen motel room in a pale drape where few colors could show through. The room was lightly decorated; a bed, shoved against the wall with only a thin cover, a bookcase filled with some books, and a cheap rendition of some long dead artists work.
The moaning horde had past during his unconscious hours it seemed, something for which David was glad to know. The nailed shut door and covered windows were unbroken. Although they had not followed him or had any idea where he was, he had put up the boards and covered the windows just in case they had.
David stood, the blood rushed to his head, different shades of red, orange and yellow danced in front of his eyes like a malevolent spirit. David stood for a moment waiting for it to pass, which it did. David then stomped to the bathroom.
He turned the handle of the sink and, luckily, the water came guzzling out of the sinks nozzle. He pulled the tab behind the sink head and plugged the sink’s drain.
The sink filled up with water and David turned the water off. Cupping his hands David dipped them into the sink and leaned down and splashed water onto his face.
Once, twice, three times he did it. He grabbed a towel off a rack and toweled his face dry. He then looked at himself in the mirror.
His faced looked haggard and wrinkled. Dark lines stood out under his blue eyes and his black hair was messy enough that David dared not run a brush through it. He rubbed his chin, rough stubble stood out on his chin scratching his hand.
David glanced down at his clothing. A gray T-shirt and blue jeans with socks and sneakers, the shirt was wrinkled. Normal enough attire for a person. He glanced over at his leather jacket hanging on a coat rack.
David opened the cabinet near the mirror and found a cheap razor and some shaving cream. ‘Lucky me,’ David thought and he lathered shaving cream on his face.
The light was gray.
David sat up in the bed. Not aware that he had fallen asleep or had awaken. It was just like he was turned on. He shook his head and turned and put his booted feet on the ground. He had fallen asleep on the bed fully clothed apparently and on top of the covers, too.
The light coming in from the window was gray lighting the sullen motel room in a pale drape where few colors could show through. The room was lightly decorated; a bed, shoved against the wall with only a thin cover, a bookcase filled with some books, and a cheap rendition of some long dead artists work.
The moaning horde had past during his unconscious hours it seemed, something for which David was glad to know. The nailed shut door and covered windows were unbroken. Although they had not followed him or had any idea where he was, he had put up the boards and covered the windows just in case they had.
David stood, the blood rushed to his head, different shades of red, orange and yellow danced in front of his eyes like a malevolent spirit. David stood for a moment waiting for it to pass, which it did. David then stomped to the bathroom.
He turned the handle of the sink and, luckily, the water came guzzling out of the sinks nozzle. He pulled the tab behind the sink head and plugged the sink’s drain.
The sink filled up with water and David turned the water off. Cupping his hands David dipped them into the sink and leaned down and splashed water onto his face.
Once, twice, three times he did it. He grabbed a towel off a rack and toweled his face dry. He then looked at himself in the mirror.
His faced looked haggard and wrinkled. Dark lines stood out under his blue eyes and his black hair was messy enough that David dared not run a brush through it. He rubbed his chin, rough stubble stood out on his chin scratching his hand.
David glanced down at his clothing. A gray T-shirt and blue jeans with socks and sneakers, the shirt was wrinkled. Normal enough attire for a person. He glanced over at his leather jacket hanging on a coat rack.
David opened the cabinet near the mirror and found a cheap razor and some shaving cream. ‘Lucky me,’ David thought and he lathered shaving cream on his face.
Member Title; N/A
Other; Nothin’.
Read the Rules? I like tortoises.
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