[Dawn, April 1.] This probably goes poorly with the Benny Hill Sirens...

[where_the_hearth_is]

[When the House was scared during the Time Loop, it was loud and demanding, but at least it was coherent. Not this time. During the time loop, the world was going wrong. But this time, the House itself is going wrong, and House doesn't. Go. Wrong. This time, it's chaos.]



[Video functions spit epileptic static: clashing colors and vortices of light intersected by jags blackness and swarms of fractured, Picasso-esque images incongruously mashed together. Half-rendered and amalgamated clips flash by in a stream of consciousness turned into a rushing torrent too fast for the human eye to follow: equations that lead inevitably to a logical breakdown; footage from the remains of a planet glowing with magma and shattered into chunks, twisted and convulsed upon itself by gravity weapons; clinical recordings of graphic and exquisite vivisections, with slick tubing connecting severed limbs back to their bodies twenty feet away or more, bodies destroying themselves under the pressure of deliberately grotesque loops and circuits, clips of the shorn torsos' empty, ragged grunts of despair; a young girl of uncertain ethnicity, in a spartan room outfitted with manacles and medical equipment, glassy-eyed, rocking and babbling, struggling to tear at her skin with nails long since trimmed into oblivion.]

[Sound blares as loudly as each NV's hardware is capable of producing. Dissonant tones pour out constantly, as though someone stomped on every single piano key at once, and they never fade. Shrieks and skitters pulse through it, cheap microphone feedback and the needle scraping over a hundred scratched records, spliced with choppy glimpses of the soundtracks from the bits of old film House found in its banks to try to express brokenness, not even capable of generating or editing it's own message now. Everything is jagged, interrupted by waves of digital noise in both picture and sound, frozen frames, ruined resolution. Error messages flicker on and off as the full extent of the House's panicked transmission temporarily overloads the capacity of so much smaller devices.]

[This is how an AI screams.]

[And throughout the mangled, skipping, cacophonous horror of a broadcast, there are words. Out of order, flashed over the churning pictures or shouted in the flat, toneless manner of a machine no longer bothering with the nuances of mimicking emotive human speech.]

HAPPENING WHAT TO ME WHAT IS WHAT THE WRONG AM MODEL I CAN'T WHY BROKEN FIX

ME FIX MAKE ME STOP IT

STOP MAKE IT MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP



[Special Note to House Residents: Guess what, none of the fancy sci-fi swoosh doors in the House will open while House is freaking out. Any attempts to hack the doors open will get the message described above dumped onto the hacking device. The windows are pretty damn close to unbreakable, being reinforced diamond - your best bet is probably calling a friend who teleports. For the first time since arriving, breakfast is not provided promptly. Things like the lights still work fine on automated subroutine and respond to requests, but any attempts to talk to the House will receive a curt identical statement:]

The House is currently handling dimensional technical difficulties. Regular communication and services to resume at some point to be determined.

[After Loki removes the spell from the House, the doors will function again, and House will respond to any questions.]

[OOC: This message is definitely sent to Unohana, Lucifer (SPN), Mary Winchester, Iroh, Loki, and Magneto. It's not public to the whole network, since I didn't want to ruin everyone's lulz with crazy computer screams early in the morning, but House is not thinking clearly at all after having all its doors magically rearranged by Loki's prank, so if you want your character to randomly receive this wreck of message? Then they totally did. Hopefully Loki will fix the House quickly, so it shouldn't last too long.]

Comments

[thelightbringer]

Michael.

[Lucifer is instantly in front of him, soothing, concerned.]

Trust me. Let me do it?

[where_the_hearth_is]

[A few of the scrubbers dip and stumble in the air as he pops away, then scuttle innocuously back into the nooks in the walls they first emerged from. House isn't sure why Michael is upset or what it did wrong, and it falls silent. At home, talking too much - acting like a person - was mostly likely to lead to disapproval. The door out of the bathroom opens hesitantly, even though Michael is still far enough not to trigger the automatic opening subroutine, an awkward apology and House's way of backing off, even though it knows Michael doesn't need the door to leave.]

[servingfather]

[It's nothing to do with how much the House was acting like a person and all about Michael's personal space and how easily ruffled it is. He and Raphael were not the type to touch much and none of the lesser ones dared. So he's slowly becoming used to it through Lucifer.

For a moment Michael just stands there - the thought of leaving hasn't even crossed his mind until the door opens which he looks over towards. Lucifer's words, the House's actions convince him not to leave and he nods silently still feeling rather ruffled.]

[thelightbringer]

[Lucifer takes a step backward, but has a hand out slightly, as though that alone might coax Michael back into the water with him.]

[where_the_hearth_is]

[House knows, theoretically, that some people have personal space issues, but it doesn't really understand or feel as though that applies to it, since it's supposed to be just a thing, even if it's a thing that talks. It closes the door again, a little slower than they usually move, as though faintly self-conscious.]

[servingfather]

[It's Lucifer and because it's Lucifer he allows his brother to lead him back into the water. He knows his brother would never hurt him (not unless Michael started it anyway) and so he does trust his sibling. Though he feels as if they're treating him like a feral animal who might either lash out or flee.]

[thelightbringer]

[Once they're in the water, Lucifer is much calmer. He splashes Michael, and because the tub is large enough, drifts back away from him a little ways.]

I wonder what Eden will do if I take you home smelling like mango?

[servingfather]

[The fact that Lucifer's calmer helps calm him down a little. He splashes back.]

Probably eat all of John's hair if I don't keep an eye on her.

[thelightbringer]

She's developed a taste for Nick's. ...Come here. I'll show you what the House was trying to do.

[servingfather]

You smell like her food. [A terse pause before he shifts closer to Lucifer.]

[thelightbringer]

[He floats around behind Michael, and starts by touching his shoulders--it's something he often does as it is.

He's most curious about whether or not Michael is sensitive around the shoulder blades like Lucifer is--the area where their wings connect metaphysically. Well, two of six wings do, in Lucifer's case.]

[servingfather]

[Shoulders - he can do shoulders.

Oh he's sensitive alright. While it feels exceptionally good it also makes Michael very tense.]

[thelightbringer]

[So Lucifer gets him talking, or tries to, to distract him a little as he gets used to it.]

What's the best new thing you've tried so far?

[servingfather]

[There's silence as he considers it. So many new experiences. Some he liked and some he didn't but one stands out so far.]

Bowling with you. [Sure bowling alone was a pretty hilarious story to tell but there's something wonderful about doing something with another person. Especially since it helped bring them back together after a miserable month apart.]

[thelightbringer]

[Lucifer smiles behind him, and runs his thumbs firmly along the edges of his shoulder blades. He knows damn well how good that feels, to the vessel and the angelic form at the same time.]

You are a champion bowler.

[servingfather]

[Both Grace and flesh shiver at the touch because hnnng - no one has ever done that before. The only one who would was locked away long before he took a human vessel. For a moment he forgets that they were talking.]

I should join a team.

[thelightbringer]

You should.

[His voice is soft and low, as soothing as his hands over Michael's wings. Now that they're doing this he's glad Michael hadn't let the House continue. He breathes frost over Michael's skin, just for added sensation.]

When I got here and realized I'd be stuck with this vessel, I started looking for things to make it more tolerable.

[servingfather]

I'll sign up as Mikaela.

[Then she can distract the boys on the other team. Wings shift slightly, unused to such attention but he doesn't jerk them away. If he had it would have just been a massage for his vessel rather than this. Goosebumps raise across the flesh.]

Like what?

[thelightbringer]

I'll come as Luciana. To be your cheerleader.

[And to strike up bets; he enjoys gambling. The frost melts quickly, of course, because Michael is warm, the bathwater is hot, and Lucifer is still touching him. He traces his own sigil across Michael's back.]

...Like this. Things like this. Little pleasures.

[servingfather]

To help me distract the other players.

[Because Michael obviously wasn't ready for strangers to be touching him all that much. It takes him a minute to figure out what Lucifer's doing as he's never had anyone draw on him. He's not sure how he feels about it though it almost seems as if his brother is leaving an invisible mark on him.]

I couldn't let just anyone touch me. [As was obvious by his reaction earlier.]

[thelightbringer]

Good. It's better to be picky. None of the people who've touched me this way realized what they were doing to me...

[He begins actually massaging Michael then, not just on his wings but along his back.]

[servingfather]

How could they? Most don't believe in anything they can't see.

[Slowly but surely he relaxes, letting his eyes close to fully enjoy the sensation.]

[thelightbringer]

No, but most humans don't react the way we do. Not to a mere backrub.

[He gets some soap from the House's machines, and lathers up Michael's back.]

[servingfather]

Which is why I'd never let just anyone.

[Bathing...isn't so bad. Not as bad as he first thought anyway.]

[thelightbringer]

Neither do I.

[His hands slip around to lather Michael's chest, too, and his arms. It's not so different from the way Lucifer sometimes drapes on him.]