Hello and may I say welcome. My name is Dr. lan Malcolm. You may have heard of me. Well, correction you should have heard of me. (RP blog for Dr. Ian Malcolm from Jurassic Park. Crossovers and silliness encouraged)
“You did it. You crazy son of a bitch you did it.”
|| Ian Malcolm RP blog, set after the events of Jurassic Park. ||
|| Info down below ||
|| DNI if you are under 18 regardless of the content. I’m old lol ||
|| Some content on here will be NSFW. I don’t do smut RP (at the moment winkwink) but topics and jokes will come up. Again do not interact if you are under 18. ||
|| Open to crossovers, anons, casual and semi-lit, most of all this is just for fun! ||
|| Writer is 26, he/him, very autistic about dinosaurs and Jurassic Park/World ||
|| This is a sideblog. I can nauuut follow from here </3 ||
Writers notes:
- I combine aspects of both Movie!Ian and Book!Ian with aspects of JWE Ian, i.e. the Jurassic Park DLC and San Diego campaign
- My headcanons and writing about his disabilities come from personal experience
- Ian in my mind is autistic but its pretty obvious in canon
- I also write Ian as being trans, usually being somewhat gender diverse/queer/a trans man. Life can not be contained and all that.
- I usually write Ian in appearance close to JP1 and Jeff between 1993-2009, and i’m not too strict on the year RP takes place
- I may also take breaks or not feel like writing sometimes which is why I prefer casual as to not disappoint the more dedicated
About Ian Malcolm:
- Malcolm was one of the few survivors of the Jurassic Park incident in Costa Rica. He was hired by late Lawyer Donald Gennaro to apply his experience in Chaos Theory to the park’s possible success or downfall. Needless to say he betted and won on it’s downfall.
- He has since broken an NDA to remain quiet about the existence of Jurassic Park and the events that happened. Due to this his reputation has been on the line and many universities want little to do with him.
- Lives in Austin, Texas. He frequently travels, but instead of doing lectures like he used to, most of his trips are for legal battles, family visits and interviews. The only people willing to hear him out so far have also signed an NDA.
- The incident in Jurassic Park has left him with psychosis and PTSD, both of which he takes medication for. Hallucinations and nightmares are frequent
- Suffers from a permanent injury on his left leg joint after a T Rex attack. He uses a cane to walk around and is sometimes left bedridden. Several healed puncture wounds run up his left side from, you guessed it, the T Rex.
- He has a severe morphine addiction after being given the drug at the park and prescribed it for regular use
- Has three kids, all from different wives and currently remains divorced. The only child he has custody of is Kelly Malcolm who he sees on weekends when back at Austin
When interacting with Ian:
- He will ramble about Chaos Theory any chance he gets and even a bad reputation won’t stop him from saying what’s on his mind unfiltered person-to-person
- Due to his situation he isn’t as social or open as he used to be, you might want to approach him like one would a stray cat who really, really likes morphine
- Ian has a horrible case of Chronic Unconditional Compassion. You’d have to be a disgustingly wealthy man responsible for the deaths of innocent people and the endangerment of your own grandchildren for him to resent you, and even then he’ll visit you on your deathbed.
Warnings:
The blog will deal with topics such as: PTSD/psychosis, severe injury, addiction, systemic and medical ableism
A fire broke out backstage in a theatre. The clown came out to warn the public; they thought it was a joke and laughed. The more he repeated the warning the louder they applauded, until the fire engulfed everyone.
I think that's just how the world will come to an end: to general applause from wits who believe it's a joke.
- S. Kierkegaard, Either/Or (Enten – Eller, 1843)
[ For the last twenty four hours, Ian had gone back and fourth on the idea. Part of him was elated that someone would listen, a new connection after so many had been severed in the wake of his fateful incident. Another part however, dug at the back of his mind. It threw questions without possible answers, scenarios and assumptions with little to counteract it. Out of curiosity he had done a little bit of looking into his new acquaintance. Doctor Gregory House. Diagnostician. Some say he is a miracle worker, others claim him to be the devil incarnate. His sister somehow claimed both at the same time. Good enough. ]
[ He stood at the front doors of the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, leaning on his cane. His scarf as black as the rest of his winter wear waved in the biting cold winds, just missing his face every so often. "Be calm, Malcolm" he thought. "You're just here to share what you saw". It wasn't the first time he told himself this while shivering like a baby duckling. ]
[ He pushed the doors open, wiping his boots and sloughing off his coat and scarf. The hot air hit his skin and served to calm his nerves, even if just a little bit. Where he would meet Doctor House exactly he wasn't sure, so the receptionist served as his only hope of finding out. ]
“Ah, yes hello m'am, is uhh, is Doctor House here today? I have a meeting with him this afternoon...”
Between clinic hours he begrudgingly finished and cases that needed solving, there was hardly a hour since his…encounter, where he didn’t find himself at least once thinking about it. Whether it be the simple idea that Cuddy had a sibling to the much greater idea that said sibling had played a part in ‘jurassic park’, indulging himself in those thoughts, free time or not, became harder and harder to avoid doing.
And that aside, it was hard to shake the fact that in for the first time in a long time he’d enjoyed interacting with someone—A complete stranger at that. Somehow, the the guy’s far-more-interesting-than-his-issues-backstory aside, something had drawn him in.
The level of intelligence? The way he stood for what he believed in? Or maybe most simply, his personality?
Trying to decide what was so significant about the guy he’d otherwise consider a loser becomes frustrating. So with their meeting quickly approaching, he decides he’ll try to use that time to figure it out.
Like clockwork, it doesn’t take House very long at all to burst his way through the clinic doors, a shit eating grin of a smile on his face. Indicative of…maybe winning an arguement. With Cuddy? Or maybe the pride of sneaking away from his job? There was many possibilities. Out of the many you can think of, one is bound to be right.
“ One thing you’ll learn about me is I have this thing where you say my name and I can just appear. You should really ask Cuddy about it. “
[ Ian jumped out of his skin hearing the low, commanding tone of Dr. House, failing to address him back for a good second as he thumped his chest, eyes watering. A hard candy he popped into his mouth almost went down the wrong end and he found himself gesturing silently to wait. What an awful first –or rather– second impression. Once the offending candy was back in his cheek he cleared his throat, extending a hand to the Doctor ]
“Mm, sorry you ah, you-you startled me. Wow, you’re Doctor House?”
[ There was a sparkle of mischief in his eyes paired with a slight upturn in the corner of his mouth. It was a subtle, yet obvious tell. ]
Although he certainly hadn’t meant to, he does seem quite humored by the fact he’d startled the guy so easily—seemingly with no effort at all on his part. His smile does falter ever so slightly momentarily when he acts like he doesn’t know who he is, prompting him to gaze to the receptionist.
How paranoid was this guy?
Slow and steady, he nods, rolling his eyes.
He’s half tempted to blurt out the guy’s name and call him out for the attitude, but decides to spare the guy his own.
“ Wow. Lucky guess. “ He shoots back, then quickly motions for him to follow after him, already walking his way along to the elevators.
[ Ian’s grin gets ever so slightly wider, amused by what he considered light banter. It was a decent way to dampen his paranoid thoughts, even if for a minute. He followed House at a pace that matched his without even trying, both of their canes making a rhythmic clacking on the vinyl floor. Occasionally he looked at House with curiosity, perhaps intrigue? Either way, he only stopped doing so once in the elevator, gripping a satchel at his side with his back pressed against the wall. ]
“I hope you don’t um… Don’t mind signing a couple of things. Nothing too serious, just euhh, papers that keep my head on my shoulders...”
[ It became quickly apparent to Ian that House’s unsettling aura was not a one off. Not the result of a single bad day or week, no waking up on the wrong side of the bed, it seems he was born on it. His icy-blue eyed stare boring into Ian didn’t help much either. ]
Walking along with someone other than Wilson or occasionally his team felt…weird, but not unwelcomed. As offputting as the sound of another cane alongside his is initially, he finds himself coming to welcome it eventually. Though he wasn’t sure he was going get use to looking up to speak rather than adjusting it down.
He continues his study of his newfound acquaintance as they make for the elevators, not seeming to recognize Ian’s discomfort over it until he speaks again.
“ You really are paranoid. If I were to make a guess…anxiety disorder with PTSD. Or the fact you’re constantly being hounded. That probably plays into it. “
His comments are all very matter of fact, as if instead of conversing he’s listing symptoms of a diagnosis he’s trying to confirm.
“You can’t have that many people after you. Sure, random individuals—but the ones that can really do something. Didn’t that John Hammond guy die anyway?—... Fine, I’ll sign your stupid paperwork. Cuddy will be happy to hear I’ve finally done some. Just don’t tell her it’s nothing medical. “
[ Ian turned his head, eyes focusing on the wall behind House rather than at him as he spoke. PTSD and anxiety huh? He almost laughed. That was two of his diagnoses since the event yes, but far from the only ones. It only took a few sentences in for him to respond with an eye roll, shaking his head with an air of newfound confidence, even if it was just to wag the finger at the man beside him. ]
“Oh you- you have no idea how deep this goes Doctor House no. Hammond’s fortune didn’t pop up out of thin air you see, he has a legacy, he has family who want his assets, investors, there’s long chains of companies and organisations and all they want Doctor-, all they want is for people like me to-to-to lay down and accept what happened.”
[ As if emboldened by the power of lecturing another human being, Ian was the first to move once the elevator had made it’s stop. ]
“But I won’t. I’m not collateral to these people and they’ll know eventually.”
“ No, I don’t. I only state what I observe. I also know you have severe pain. Caused by prior sepsis that allowed necrosis to probably form—and then further bone shatter complications given the entire area that was bitten was under 35,000 or so newtons of force. “
As critical and detailed as his words are, there’s an unusual softness that dulls the usual grate of his voice. Whether that was for privacy sake, or rather…understanding, was up to interpretation. He waits for the elevators doors to shut them in before speaking again. Again, mostly for the sake of privacy.
And for a while, he’s silent, quietly listening to the rant rather than him being the one to do so. For a change, it was oddly nice. Maybe because the topic was actually interesting for once.
“ And you would rather fight back and suffer their consequences than not fight back at all? Your form of…trying to take back the control you lost. After the situation they put you in. “
Briefly he gazes down at his own leg, just barely noticeable if you weren’t looking.
“ Makes sense. I get why you do it, as stupid as spending your time like that is. That—and-or—you want to prevent it from happening again. I don’t blame you either way. Animals like that aren’t meant to be harnessed—caged, whatever. It’s admirable.“
Finally, he’s looking up at him. Making eye contact as best he can, or at least trying to. For how genuine he was being, it was no small feat.
“ You can just call me House, by the way. Never cared much for formalities when it comes to coworkers—or other doctors. Any of the names Lisa has called me in front of you work too. Surprise me. “
[ Ian could only nod at House's observations. The man was honest in a way that few others could possibly dream of being, it gave him a sense of ease. When even the doctors who treated you —as skilled as they were— kept so much from you, honesty becomes a valued asset. ]
"Ohh, there's a lot more time on my hands now, so... So I use it wisely. You may or may not understand and that's fine but ah, I do it for my sake and for those who survived it all... Or... Didn't survive."
[ He refused to let his mind linger on that last addition any longer. The horror of the park itself was one thing, but the faces... Even the lawyer that had annoyed him, his brutal death haunted the back of his mind. He focused on keeping up with House, their canes once again maintaining a steady rhythm. ]
“Nature will not be controlled, you probably know this well. The possibility of things going wrong, what seems like ah, bad luck or fate is simply... Chaos in action.”
[ Ian looked up, barely noticing they had made it to the man's office. In fact he had overshot a few steps, brought back by the monotone voice that somehow, allowed everything else to fall into the background. All of the confusing, complicated mess in his mind, gone even for a moment. He nodded with a small hum, following House through the door. ]
"Alright... Well let's um... Let's stick with House. I don't think I know you enough to call you a... A rat bastard yet."
“ I don’t understand what you went through—I never could. Haven’t lived it. But I do know what it feels like to want retribution…repayment for something. To feel vindicated. Find a purpose after it all—preferably in something related to what happened to you. “
It seems he’s speaking with much more care in his voice than he had in their prior interactions. Yet there’s now much less eye contact, it instead focused on the resin of the floor below them.
“ Sometimes the best payback is to keep living. Or trying to. I’m not good at poeticism Seems you’re already doing that though, so I don’t know why I’m telling you. “
Until they finally reach his office, he’s quiet. Seemingly focused on something he isn’t outwardly saying or showing. It’s then that he finally opens the door that he speaks up again, not before motioning him to walk in with his cane.
“ And the bigger the beast the worse it is. Really no nature should be contained—except puppy dogs and worms you find in the street, maybe. Trying to bring prehistoric animals into a world that can hardly manage the ones we’ve already maimed and captured is cruel. I guess some could say humans are the most chaotic of all, if you want to talk schematics. Animals come with far more predictability than us. A raptor will almost always certainly bite. But people… “
He allows the words to fill in the blanks, knowing well by now that Ian didn’t need him to string along any longer to get his point.
Now settling into the room, he throws off his coat to his desk, finally flopped in his chair.
“ I hear that one from patient more than you’d think. Coming from you it might sound like a compliment for once. “
[ Immediately his eyes settled upon what was displayed across the glass table. There were more items simply to look at or play with than had some sort of office utility, something Ian felt a kinship towards. His own office is full of decorative and novelty items, keeping his hands occupied while his mind works freely. ]
“You seem to have taken the words right out of my mind. You’re right. Nature can and will not be contained –even a puppy has it’s ways of rushing out the front door when you’re not looking. Though, to assume non-human animals are in any way predictable, I would disagree. We are all as predictable –or unpredictable rather– in an ever-changing paradigm that loves– no, craves control. This… Operation that’s being done, this project, it goes deeper than I could have um, possibly imagined. There are so many variables and possibilities it… It keeps me up at night. Of course so does the paranoia, and the nightmares.”
[ Ian carefully settles himself into the closest chair to him. Not the most comfortable seat, but he wasn’t here for comfort. At least, he assumed so when he arrived. The way that House spoke so expertly on the topic, saying things that Ian has tried many times to reiterate to people who refused to listen. It was refreshing. He idly began itching his neck, not even realising how deep he was digging his chewed nails. ]
“In that case, i’ll reserve that compliment for another time. Now where do I start…”
[ He racked his brain to find a pinpoint in time, a memory he could use as a springboard to finally talk about his experiences without the fear of breaking any- Oh shit. He reached down into his satchel, pulling out papers with a sticky note labelled “HOUSE” on the top. He placed them in front of Gregory, almost knocking over a little statue ]
“Oh, oh sorry. My coordination hasn’t- hasn’t been great. Just sign a couple of things there, like I said it just makes sure you know not to talk about this.”
[ He carefully reaches over to tap a finger on one of the sections highlighted on the top page, making sure to avoid the poor statue he almost knocked over earlier ]
“Also, you’re ah, essentially telling InGen investors that i’m your patient… Couldn’t make a convincing case to tell a ‘family friend’ though… Wether you consider yourself that i’m not too sure.”
[ Ian looked up at House above the rim of his glasses for a second, brows raised. Cuddy may not have told Ian much about her life until he came back home in a wheelchair, but even the information about House eluded him until yesterday. It was the only reason the call lasted almost four hours. ]
“ Predictability is a matter of the variable—that’s how it goes in the hospital, at least. And is it so wrong to assume it’s the case with all non hominids? They’re…predictably unpredictable. Their motives are primal; fight or flight. And those options narrow down their possible actions quite nicely in comparison to us. People on the other hand…there’s more levels of predictability than just the biologics of adrenaline. There’s emotions, knowledge, standards they themselves keep and society places on them. They’re… “
House doesn’t bother to continue, already beginning to trail off as Ian bribed his mind elsewhere. As much as he would love to talk about species differences, hearing about the park was of far more interest to him.
And so, his eyes focus on one of many things in his office as he drafts conversation starters. A small Lythronax figure; posed rather unsuspectingly other than the pen it holds between articulated jaws. The same figure Ian almost knocks over.
Given he had no lack of things to knock over in his office, he doesn’t pay any mind to it. His only acknowledgement of it is a lingering look. And yet…not for the clumsiness.
“ You have pruritus. Medically induced itching. If I had to guess—some sort of opioid. Given I had to guess—fentanyl or morphine. Probably Morphine. If you haven’t heard, the other one is pretty good at killing people. “
Accusatory as he might sound, he doesn’t seem to have any shame in taking out a bottle from his pocket. Characteristically he tosses one of the unnamed pills in his mouth.
“ Just wait until you get to the hallucinations. Or maybe you already have. “
With that, he turns his attention to the paperwork that was put in front of him. He certainly doesn’t seem too thrilled at the thought of paperwork, but he obliges.
“ You’ll have some of your own to do, then. Sorry to hassle you, but I’m pretty sure your sister will kill me if I don’t. “
“Ohhh no no Doctor, to narrow down their behaviours to two instincts or- or to underestimate especially these creatures, i’m afraid, is precisely what led me here with a bum leg and bite marks. See, observing their natural behaviours in the wild is um, is one thing, but once humanity attempts to contain them… The variables infinitely multiply. Humanity can have as developed of a-a prefrontal lobe as they’d like but may never truly predict what an animal will do and… And get it one hundred percent right all of the time…”
[By now he was leaning forward, eyes flitting between House’s desk items His eyes narrowed at the man’s observations. The mention of his pain medication, or rather his dependence on it, definitely struck a nerve. Intentional or not, Ian gritted his teeth, eyes narrowing. He did what could only be described as eye-roll of admission. For once, he'd rather talk about the dinosaurs. ]
“Hallucinations… Yes, though… Less sure wether it’s the morphine or the trauma… Both… Maybe…”
[ Not knowing things like this bothered Ian. Even in all of his preaching about Chaos Theory, to know was to find comfort. His eyes lingered on one of the skulls House had in his posession. Between that and the figurine, Ian had some idea of why the man was so personally fascinated by all of this. ]
“First things first, I… Assume you’ve done some reading into this? No doubt the articles about venomous ‘lizards’ in Costa Rica biting little children? Or the mathematician hellbent on slandering the poor, dying philanthropist John Hammond?”
Annoyed as he had been earlier with the whole ‘doctor thing’, he’d turned to introject the other man’s talking when his eyes momentarily catch his. In those few moments, little else registers for him other than the words bum leg and bite marks, leaving him with a familiar throbbing feeling in his own. Somehow eying the others made his own hurt a whole lot more. Or maybe it was simply because he was trying to imagine what must have happened to him. The way he spoke so cynically didn’t make it hard to guess. Or perhaps Malcom was just that solidified in his opinions as him.
Try as he might, he didn’t take his eyes off him as he talked, far too engaged in a conversation of a complexity he didn’t often get to encounter. For once he didn’t have any comments to make back. Not ones that wouldn’t come off as rude, anyway. And something about him made it worth while not to be.
“ …Morphine and opioids aren’t anything to have any shame in needing, if me popping a pill of my own hadn’t just now given you the memo. I’m sure Cuddy has told you enough for you to know I have a bit of a ‘problem’ of my own. Simply put—I pointed it out because symptoms like those can be managed. Without taking you off it and putting you in pain. “
In comparison to earlier, his voice had softened a few octaves, far more cool than the fire it’d held in their ‘debate’ moments prior. Somewhere between his words, he’d looked away, though.
Shifting in his seat, he finishes up the paperwork and hands Ian his own share out of his desk, pen neatly clipped to it and all.
“ Yea. The great spitting Costa Rican lizards, the giant ‘elephant’ that had happened to get sick there. The kids that were chased by that really, really big lizard—the stupid rich fool—philanthropist seems a bit too strong for the things he got up to….I’ve read enough. Never believed it—because I never had proof. To see is to believe. And you’re…definitely what they’ve said you are. All good or neutral things, promise. “
[ Despite House's reassurance, he kept his guard. No good came of giving doctors an inch, they'd take a mile and his entire morphine stash with it. He simply tilted his head, his lips thinning and eyes staring up into the doctor's. The sight of him swallowing his own medicine gave Ian a feeling in his throat. Hopefully not physical, or he'd be here longer than he'd like. While House continues he flips quickly through the paperwork provided to him, eyes flicking between it and House. ]
" Yes, ohh yes you do know your stuff... Venom spitting chicken-lizards, a man ripped in half by machinery... While in a bathroom stall... "
[ Ian grinded his teeth, jaw muscles clenching while absentmindedly itching his neck. The elephant, the lizards, it seems he really did do his research. More than most were willing to aside from tabloids and biased news reports, anyway. The fact that anyone was willing to believe someone had they acquired enough capital... Ian cleared his throat, shaking his head slowly at the thought. ]
" You must have really done your research then, because I... I have yet to see anything better than pity pieces to read about me so far. "
" ... A lawyer called me early in the morning. I had just gotten up when he told me about something that would-, would blow my mind. Now, it's not often I got called up by lawyers before i've brushed my teeth though I um... I definitely miss that now. He told me about a project in Costa Rica, of which he was supposed to inspect to see if it was up to code. Something about genetic engineering, top of the line computers and rooms full of processors. Three days in an 'exotic animal sanctuary' and fifty pages of legal documents... Needless to say I was curious. It was only a few weeks before I arrived that Gennaro informed me just what kind of animals they were dealing with... "
The reassurance doesn’t help, and House can’t get himself to blame him. As both a doctor and someone in pain most of the time too, he couldn’t. The medical system was a joke. Even when his doctors were suppose to be his friends. Thinking about makes a taste far more bitter than his pills cover his tongue.
Doctors were a major source of so many issues in their lives—or at least he presumes so for Ian based off the reactions he’s been given.
How could he get defensive when he himself has doctors—loved ones, that use his medical dependence like a leash?
“ Of course I do. I figured having some background would make things easier on you... In my specialty it’s better to know about things ahead of time—anyways. Kind of why they make you go through years and years of medical schooling. Plus, seeing what the idiots defending it had to say was pretty humoring—I will admit. “
That and the fact that he hated not knowing. To know as much as he could in all situations was…assuring. Gave him an upper ground, in a way. And not in some great strive for competition. It was just usually safer for him that way.
“ You would think they would have given you a little bit more information on what they were doing…guess it checks out if they’re doing animal testing, though. Not like we regulate even simple animal testing anyway—and on a private island I guess Hammond wouldn’t have much of an incentive to disclose the true details of what he was doing. Safety must be nothing when you have enough money to treat humans like cattle—far too common in the scientific field. “
[ Ian took in House’s words like a breath of fresh air, a voice that made sense in a world that made him seem insane. His eyes began to wander around as he listened, taking in the eccentric collections the doctor had. Each one told Malcolm just a little bit more about his new doctor, just as much as the way he spoke about Ian’s situation. Ah yes, the ills of the scientific field, a problem many choose to ignore in the name of progress and something Ian has stuck his nose into more than once. Some say it would come back to bite him one day, but he didn’t realise how hard. ]
“From the digging I could do, I had enough to calculate that this would fail. You’d think it would be common sense, altering genetics and bringing back animals from millions of years ago is a disaster on it’s own. Not even accurate ones, mind you as I found out through a couple of others who visited the place with me. You see I ah, I was the only one who didn’t have a stake in the park. My career theoretically wouldn’t change and I have no reason to invest…”
[ As he thought of his next words, Ian fiddled with his watch, giving it a look. Plenty of time to keep explaining, more than he ever could since it happened. ]
“Yet it did change. A lot.”
“Funny how that works, even when you think something is inconsequential, the nature of the universe we live in is always there to prove you wrong. You’d know as a doctor, i’m sure.”
[ Ian gave him a nod as he adjusted his jacket. ]
“We had questions. Lots of them. How could you find enough DNA to sequence? What about the gaps? What do they eat? How much land could you possibly need to house them? Why did you bring kids to the god damn park?”
[ His voice cracked as he asked the last question, still unable to truly understand it. Kids, Hammond’s grandchildren no less, traumatised forever all because they were set to be his tiny test subjects. Ian cleared his throat. The memories of their faces only made his jaw ache ]
“They filled in the gaps using frog DNA. That and ahhh, a combination of other animals, it escapes me. It’s easy for a young, probably underpaid scientist in their own discipline to get a superiority complex. One in particular would be so narrowly focused that they’d fail to account for Parthenogenesis…”
“I’ve never pretended to know everything in my discipline, House… But come on.”