The Ghoul

"There is nothing I want," he paused for a split second. "Nothing that you could give," he whispered. "No, I'm merely doing this out of curiosity, to perhaps feed a bit of ego I may have," he smiled. "You seem not to believe that I could do it?" he asked, placing a hand in his right pants pocket. " Who else could help but me?" he said. "At least I could try. What's the worst that can happen, chum? You would be the same as I see you now, if I can't cure you," he whispered, "or would you be wondering what if?" he whispered.

" What if I did find the cure? What if you could become normal again? Would you want that in the back of your mind? After you have endured so much?" He asked once more, "Care for another drink?" he asked. "If this works, think what I could do for those who need it…" he whispered, lowering his eyes, wondering if he could somehow repay society for his failure.

@thcghoul

"... Just another guinea pig..." The Ghoul muttered, thinking it over. How many times had he dreamed of a moment where he could regain his former appearance. Even if he had gotten used to this life, he would kill to honestly just feel again! The sensation of touch had become so faint on many parts of his body, and what wasn't covered up was starting to become what lay underneath all his leathers - rotting flesh that was barely saved by the serum he inhaled every few days.

"Although..." He felt it again, this kindling hope returning to him. A dastardly regurgitated emotion that never seemed to leave him ever. "--at least I'd be an experiment in more promising hands... Shit. What do I have to lose?? You're right, I do want to be that again. I want to try..." A smirk crossed his features, trying to mask the worry. "You gotta admit though-- I still do look kinda handsome all ghoulified, huh? I make it work!"

@xxthehousealwayswinsxx

#xxthehousealwayswinsxx

aurora-rph

reblog this if you're fine with your mutuals sending you asks unprompted

Mr. House wasn't the type to care for any fellow man or woman at that, unless he was going to do business with them for personal gain or self-interest; however, something struck the very core inside of his soul when he could see the sadness in the man's eyes. "Must've felt such a waste thinking they might be around still," he whispered. "Sorry…" he whispered. "Not used to empathy or another," he whispered. "But sometimes, such madness makes us who we are," he whispered.

"I know I have had my fair share." House lowered his eyes, gently placing his hand on the other's shoulder for a moment, only to take it back. He walked away. "I would ask if there is some part of you who wishes to be normal again, but perhaps it's too late," he whispered. "Perhaps your mind has changed after all? Who wants to still be a Hollywood monkey? Then again? Those men are long gone," he said.

"Or at least, I hope so," he whispered, adjusting his suit's tie. Two hundred years earlier, he sent a man to do the dirty work of getting rid of, but that moment didn't turn out the way he had hoped. In other news of his heart that has changed for a split second, he could help this man, but why would he? What could he possibly gain to help this ghoul be who he used to be? "I could help," he muttered.

"To bring you to your former glory, if you so wish?" he smirked. "How could you not say yes?" he mumbled under his breath. "Look at you, for Christ's sake," he muttered once again. He knew at a moment in this time, Howard might be a man who felt rather soft, even if he was rough around the edges.

@thcghoul

"Madness, indeed..." He calmly murmured, and felt that hand on his shoulder. A short breath was stolen as they both had this moment of sameness; two equals sharing in the loneliness that the world spun upon them. Then the words kept coming, and he felt his head start to spin, if only slightly at the idea of being how he had been before. "That's a dream I stopped believing in long ago. It's not possible... is it?"

The question lingering, and for once in his long life did that spark of hope stir in him again. He gave the man such a look, like a man so lost from the world, that not even this disfigured mess of flesh and scars could mask the genuine expression. Then he remembered the reality of this world, and of what such hope had done to himself already. His naivety is what got him in this situation - what had destroyed the world.

"You--- Listen... You may have been the world's smartest man, but the world isn't so smart anymore. They probably don't even have the ability to reverse this..." He paused. "And don't think for a second you would do that for me without there being... something else involved that you want."

@xxthehousealwayswinsxx

#xxthehousealwayswinsxx

"You have the option to," he whispered. "There was a time when I valued material things, but since I have seen what has become of my beloved strip, I have very little use for something not as valuable as once before," he said. He took a sip of his alcoholic drink to wash down the taste of his failure. "Yes, and after they got what they needed, no one cared for the rotting cowboy, neither," he whispered, "and I'm not talking about your flesh, my dear chum," he said.

"But," he said, perking his head slightly back towards the conversation at hand rather than mumbled under his breath. "We have both lost part of our humanity, it seems, some more than others," he said sarcastically with a smile and glare at what the other had become. "But I'm willing to put my feelings of what could've been behind me, what I could have done, if I had stayed behind," he felt a strong feeling of guilt, but perhaps not as much as the other.

"Why are you here?" he asked. "I don't believe it's simply to take riches from my corpse," he whispered. "If that's what you would have found," he said. "If you wanted to loot my place, I couldn't imagine who else would have thought of the same malarkey," he whispered. "Though I'm sure you're not the only one who might show up," he said. Mr. House took a sip of the last drop, wishing he had more stash somewhere in a cabinet, in the dark where no one could access it, but these times were different.

He was lucky to have found what he had in the light of the cabinet; however, he didn't rule out that the only drink he wished could be near wasn't where he left it. "Ah, yes, how did I survive the extraordinary many years that everyone turned into monsters and money became useless?" he paused. "Sleeping chambers." He muttered.

"So My inquiry is for you, " he paused. his lips whispered words that could have been avoided but he did wish to gain a reaction out of the ghoul, to see if there was anything left of who he knew. "what ever did happen to that lovely wife of yours?" he asked. "Is she a ghoul like yourself?" he whispered.

@thcghoul

Cooper listened to the man ramble on, knowing full well the same set of emotions he was always battling with. To hear them spoken by another had him grimace and look away, as though to not see this one's brief moment of guilt would keep his own at bay. It pained him to know that he himself was the one to sell the world. To so foolishly believe that he was doing the right thing - the good thing. Trust for humanity had been utterly destroyed the moment he saw the sky ablaze with fire and ash.

How could he fix this problem? He knew that he never could. The world was so fucked and his hope dwindled more and more every day. His humanity kept hidden away under all the leather and misshapen skin; the horrors of the greatest sin being a huge slap in the face.

"My..." That question brought him back to the present, and he was forced to try and gather his thoughts. Guilt ebbed away once again, and that deep pain from which nothing could ever relieve. His head shook slowly, and he briefly glanced at the man. Disgust at himself. Regret and shame. All of those emotions flickering there for a moment, before his shoulders sagged a little and he forced his gaze away again.

"No... She's... -- They're gone. The both of them long gone. They gotta be." He muttered the last sentence, not wanting to bring up that sense of hope once more, and straightened his posture to try and reign in his emotions.

"It's just me, now..."

@xxthehousealwayswinsxx

Mr. House's head rose to the man's tone. His eyes fluttered with disbelief. Despite the man traveling this far to visit him, Mr. House's words repelled him for merely sharing the truth. A truth that is willful ignorance, "Why did you come back here, hm? Was it to reminisce about an old memory? Or did you want something specific?" His left eyebrow rose slightly upward.

"Because your presence is wearing thin with me," he glared. Mr. House knew there was a reason behind this man's appearance at his establishment, but what could it have been? Loneliness? Or something much greater? He waited for the other to speak. In a moment of his own weakness, he pitied the man standing before him, or what was left of him. Was he still a man inside, or was he something that was far beyond anyone's reach? Mr. House walked towards his glass once more to refill it with the Scotch that remained.

He had buried questions deep within his mind about what he wished to ask, but for now, he would let the other catch up on what he wanted to know. He raised his hand to take a sip from the clear glass, staying quiet. But his eyes never left the other's. He often wondered what he had seen; he wasn't going to leave this place. He truly felt saddened that the world had come to this; he thought for even one moment that he could have saved it, but perhaps in his own heart, he felt the pit of failure, too.

@thcghoul

It was strange to have someone remember who you were before the world was fucked over, and Cooper was trying to regain that feeling in himself to be okay with accepting that he was who he was. The Ghoul, or the man beneath the rotting flesh... He chuckled to himself, and then shrugged so dramatically at the other man.

"Well, to be honest... I thought you were long-dead. So imagine my surprise to find your near-perfect little self holed up in your grand castle." He gestured around him. "Sure, I probably was thinking to loot the place, but I doubt you have anything of worth to folk in this time. No one cares for money here, or anywhere. You find piles of it still burning in the atomic wasteland..."

Dusty leather boots stomped a little closer, as if almost too nervous to get that near the man. Yet, Cooper was still flourishing with the bravado of the old Wild West, and his tone shifted to something more somber when paused to really take in the features of this man-- who forever looked to be carved of the most perfect stone. It was infuriating! A stark reminder that he himself was not whole.

"No one cares for the greatest mind to have ever existed, either..."

@xthehousealwayswinsx

His eyes darted from the double windows that still stand even from the likes of the blast, but this wasn't what drew the attention of his thoughts, not until the words came from the ghouls lips, not the part of he was right, but the part of knowing his name, true everyone knew his name, who wouldn't know the man name Mr. house, but the catch was? He didn't exactly make his whereabouts known to too many out there; his body double was the prominent one. "Robert?" he repeated softly.

House perhaps finally caught on to who this individual might be. He tilted his head slightly downward to pick it back up to give a hint of familiarity towards the individual. "The only people who know about my whereabouts were the individuals in my close circle, and one man," he said. He got up from his chair, turning his back for a split moment to reminisce about the moment they finally came face to face, not in the restroom, but in the very same room they were standing in.

"The very same man who gave a cold fusion diode to that horrendous specimen." The very thought made his blood boil. "Am I right, Mr. Howard?" He said in an acerbic manner, "A man who never did gaze inward," he whispered. "I pity the life you carried," he said, giving a slight shake of the head. "But I guess it was the safest choice," he muttered. "Do you still think it was the safest?" he asked.

@thcghoul

#xthehousealwayswinsx #//he's like BITCH U WHAT?!?!

Howard. The name no one has called him, personally, in the two-hundred years he has been like this. A name that burned shame and horror into his mind with the want to forget. Yet, anytime he did ever gaze into a broken, dusty mirror, he was viciously reminded of what he had done. Or whenever it was too difficult to breathe, or even think; a mind slowly wanting to consume itself to this wretched affliction. That instant look of hatred crossed his features, and it was mostly for himself this said hate, and he forced himself to look downwards a bit. It was as though he couldn't bear to face it - to face him.

"... Would you shut the fuck up?! You're barely awake, and already at it with your overly eccentric ways of yapping!" He wanted to leave, to just walk out and go, because he shouldn't have showed up here. He shouldn't have brought back the memory of a man who had been so mysterious to him - still was so...

"Yes. It's me. Hello." The aggressive sass in his tone was spat, and he looked at him finally with a face annoyance. Still, he didn't really even answer the man's questions out of spite.

@xthehousealwayswinsx

He nodded with a slight movement of his head, hovering the drink over the glass. "Let me assure you," he paused for a moment, walking towards a small box that held ice. Mr. House picked up the small tongs that had been left from a moment in time when he used them before, to use once more, pick up the cubes, placing them in the small glass, filling it with scotch.

"If I hadn't missed, what happened?" He picked up his own glass to take a small sip and placed it back down. "I wouldn't be sipping my drink with something that looked like it crawled from the grave," he said. "Although it would be much obliged if you shed a little light, on what has come to be," he said lightly, although his tone was calm, he himself wasn't.

He wanted to know what had become of his strip, his casino; he hadn't had the heart to get out of the room since this stranger had stopped him from setting foot outside. Mr. House walked towards a chair that seemed to have had better days, but in his brown eyes. It would do. He sat down, crossing his legs, moving both hands to both sides of the chair, but now and then he would pick up his drink to have a sip. The man waited for the other to answer if he knew what had happened.

It seems this ghoul has endured enough to be considered hell. The look in the ghoul's eyes seemed distant and vacant in his own eyes. "Did anything change?" he whispered to himself. lift the glass to finish his drink. "Perhaps nothing has," he said. He didn't mean the apocalypse that was outside; he meant the respect he thought he gained.

@thcghoul

"... from the grave..." He muttered under his breath, almost a scoff as he considered the fact that that is perfectly right. Though, it was really hammered home that the man knew nothing of what happened. With a somewhat dramatic exaggeration, he set his drink down after taking a few generous sips (because you can't waste a real decent drink).

Then he turned fully to the man, all with a snarky little smirk on his face as he said in a near-joyous tone, like he were passing some wisdom onto a school of kids - or a boardroom of execs needing to be persuaded of some grand idea.

"Well, good sir! To answer your questions, why don't you take a little look out the window and see..." He paused, and then gestured to himself; an almost theatrical little flick of his wrist, with gloved fingers pointing towards his own chest. "Or take a look at me, and that could be answer enough, right? The world fucked itself, backwards and under, over and over again. But if we're to be honest, it wasn't by good ol' mother nature... No, Man did this. In fact, you were there when it happened, weren't you Robert..."

@xthehousealwayswinsx

"I was asleep for two hundred years," he whispered. "You would have to disregard my ignorance," he said. He lowered the crowbar. "A wanderer?" he whispered. "Well, I don't have anything you would want," he said. "If you're looking for cash, you're out of luck," he whispered, although, as yet, he didn't know that cash was a meaningless thing at this time; he would still parade it around until someone spoke otherwise.

Something about this ghoul's eyes rings with familiarity; he felt he had seen them before. He walked away to a nearby cabinet. He lifted his right hand to pull the doors away to look inside. He thought these would be gone by now, but it seemed they were still here, along with his scotch. "Are you thirsty?" he asked.

"Do you drink Scotch?" he asked. "Or do you require something else?" he asked. He didn't wait for an answer for himself. He set the cup down, popped the cork, and poured his own drink, but he waited in case the other was thirsty.

@thcghoul

"Sure, I'll have one..." A short huff of a laugh escaped past parched lips, and he was indeed thirsty enough for some hard liquor. Though, he wasn't sure if the area was safe to move more into just yet. Quiet taps of leather boots across the near-perfect flooring, and if he were to guess how this place had sustained itself for so long must have been through impenetrable craftsmanship from long ago.

Once near enough, he looked the man over for a couple more seconds, and silence echoed loudly in the spacious room. Those soft, gentle eyes of his were searching for any expression of familiarity within the other's face. "If you have any on the rocks, it'd be much appreciated..."

Maybe it was the span of two-hundred years of not giving much thought about anyone else but himself, and the potential hope that was his family being somewhere out in the wasteland... but right here and now, he was feeling like he could be more of himself. It was a strange feeling to think about, since he hadn't been able to in a long while. Always being the 'cowboy' persona he's grown to have.

There was something about this particular man that this sense of cockiness decided to come about so suddenly. "You know... not many could ever afford living in a fortress like this. You said you've been asleep this whole time? So, must've meant that you just missed the warring that happened after the smoke cleared..."

@xthehousealwayswinsx

mochisquish

obsessed with them

whereareyourightnow

[Walton Goggins] shares one moment that he chose as a first for the Ghoul. When he touches Lucy’s back as she gets sick, “That was the first time I’ve ever touched anyone in this show that wasn’t to harm them. I just want to put my hand on her back.” (x)

FALLOUT - The Wrangler

Mr. House awoke from his cryonic chambers, disoriented, but slowly the feeling returned, his mind and body felt relieved, nothing was damaged though all those years, he soon realized where he was, two hundred years, was his strip the same? His thoughts were hazy, about the years that had passed him by.

Some were scattered beyond space, and others were buried as he liked them, fossils amongst the depths of his mind. Once all that had settled, he went to the wardrobe he left behind. Was it still there? Or was it taken? he went to the room, slowly sliding the door to the right, and saw one suit there, but on the floor, he didn't remember at the moment if this was his home or was it just for business purposes, it wasn't like he had amnesia, it was just a small haze for a moment or two. He bent over to pick up the suit that had been on the floor and placed it on.

Was he the only man alive? he thought, or were there others? He walked out of the bedroom he had at the casino and towards the room where he heard some noise. He stopped for a moment to hear the settled sound of footsteps hitting the floor. His eyes shifted to the floor, where a bar had been lying among some shattered glass. Slowly, he leaned over to pick up the bar and walked out to spot a figure. "Who are you?" he asked. slowly raising the crowbar.

@thcghoul

That question made him go still, and he slowly turned with his pistol trained on the man who had spoken. As soon as he looked in their direction, realization dawned on him with exactly who this was. A slight tilt of his head to the side, and he kept to the shadows of this room to obscure most of himself. “Someone who doesn’t know me? Now, that’s new…”

Quietly, he observed the other, partly not wanting to reveal his identity. Perhaps it was from fear of the past truly creeping up, and him having to acknowledge it. Yet, there was also this feeling inside of him that had been eating away at his calm demeanor the moment he stepped into this very building; that the past is what kept him going each day. His mistakes were still felt and the real repercussions were a constant reminder. Even how his body had endured all this time was still a mystery.

“I’m just a lonely wanderer…”

@xthehousealwayswinsx