A Poet's Tale

Geoff turned the folded packet of paper over and over in his hands. It held his name on one side, written in a clear but decorative script. On the other side was a wax seal, one he'd seen countless times before.

It was a summons. He was being called home.

Bowing his head, the poet ran one hand through his short hair, mussing it even more than usual. Things had been going so well, and after only a few weeks House was feeling so much better. The treatment was working, albeit slowly, and even if the other man didn't always express his optimism about getting better, Geoff could see in his eyes that something was working.

And now this. He couldn't ignore a summons, not if he ever planned to return to his own time. And he had to, didn't he? Eventually. Besides, he had a duty, and he took that duty seriously.

Geoff stood, still gripping the papers in his hand, and went to find House.


[ooc: House has been modded like crazy! *g* Anything you want changed, please let me know, and I'll happily do it.]

[ooc: Locked to brothers_three.]


Geoff had met up with Yazoo at the brothers' shop first thing in the morning, his journal and a copy of Lysistrata tucked under his arm. After a breakfast at a nearby handwavey eating establishment, they'd headed over to Hyde Park, and settled on the ground under a large oak tree to being their discussion.

"So, Yazoo, welcome to the smallest literature class in Tropolis. Did you have any ideas as to how you wanted to go about this? Because I can treat it like I did my independent study classes, or we can just start with questions and observations on the text and see where it takes us."

[For royal_majesty.]

Geoff may have had worse days, he decided, but not recently. Not since that wretched time in the French prison. Not since the prince had paid his ransom, bought him back from French nobles. He'd broken a heart, drunk with a demon, fought with and been struck by the man he was committing himself to, and spent the night sleeping on a park bench. Only the fact that it wasn't the first time he'd slept drunken and under the stars had kept him from wearing his morning misery for all to see. Talking with Chihaya and meeting Freya Tuesday morning had helped his mood, but as midday rolled around Geoff realized that he had nowhere to go. He wasn't ready to go back to House, not after what had happened, not until he got some serious thinking done. And he wasn't about to distress Shane while she was still dealing with the effects of what had happened to her. And the only other person he'd have felt comfortable going to was Loz, and that certainly was no longer an option.

He sat on the bench, the one he'd slept on, for a long while, wondering if he was going to have to end up swallowing his pride and calling someone he barely knew, or Shane and Tara after all, when it hit him.

The person who'd helped him last time. The person who had almost a duty to help him, and would take that duty seriously. Edward.

Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, and the crumpled piece of paper with the prince's number, Geoff did something he'd hoped he would never have to do again. He asked Prince Edward for help.

[ooc: Locked to geoff_chaucer and gotcanewillpoke.]

He'd gotten drunk, very drunk, and had to give in and take a taxi home. It was well into the early hours of the morning when he finally did, and although he did his best to be quiet, inebriated people very rarely realize how much noise they're really making. He had it in mind just to crash on the couch, and deal with everything in the morning. Not a very good plan, but neither was getting plastered and missing your boyfriend's best friend's birthday party.

[ooc: Preplayed between geoff_chaucer and royal_majesty. Follow the link to the actual post below. Interaction no, popcorn yes.]


It was Sunday, the day after Geoff and House returned from Michigan. They'd slept in a little, then Geoff had returned a phone call from Shane and written out the promised copies of the poem he'd written. House had ensconced himself on the couch with Cash for a quiet afternoon in front of the television, but the poet was feeling a little restless, and he decided to hit the streets, wandering around town a bit in hopes of scoping out potential employment. He still had it in the back of his mind to try City Hall, but...he wasn't sure about that yet, and he didn't want to put the burden on CJ of feeling like she should hire him if she didn't have a real need for his work.

His feet eventually took him to Hyde Park, his favorite place for people-watching, and he strolled leisurely along one of the paths near the edge of the wooded area, hands stuffed into his coat pockets, whistling softly to himself and trying to figure out whether or not a couple seated on one of the benches was engaged in an illicit affair.

He didn't hear the hoofbeats until they were almost on top of him.

[ooc: Partially preplayed between geoff_chaucer and royal_majesty. Interaction no, popcorn yes.]


It was Sunday, the day after Geoff and House returned from Michigan. They'd slept in a little, then Geoff had returned a phone call from Shane and written out the promised copies of the poem he'd written. House had ensconced himself on the couch with Cash for a quiet afternoon in front of the television, but the poet was feeling a little restless, and he decided to hit the streets, wandering around town a bit in hopes of scoping out potential employment. He still had it in the back of his mind to try City Hall, but...he wasn't sure about that yet, and he didn't want to put the burden on CJ of feeling like she should hire him if she didn't have a real need for his work.

His feet eventually took him to Hyde Park, his favorite place for people-watching, and he strolled leisurely along one of the paths near the edge of the wooded area, hands stuffed into his coat pockets, whistling softly to himself and trying to figure out whether or not a couple seated on one of the benches was engaged in an illicit affair.

He didn't hear the hoofbeats until they were almost on top of him.

Once he'd left Shane at her house, Geoff had taken the train back to Dover but he wasn't ready to go home. What she'd told him about her kidnapping, and the fact that others had been involved -- including Dr. Wilson -- was weighing heavy on Geoff's mind. The perpetrators had to be found, obviously, and revenge taken. But how? He hadn't wanted to grill Shane for more information, but he had to get it from someone. And the only person he could think of to talk to was Wilson.

So he wandered through the park for a while, and then headed over to Beau Jardin. They weren't at home, and he cursed his luck, but he stayed in the neighborhood for a bit just in case.

He was sitting on the curb opposite the Brownstone when the couple pulled into the driveway.


[ooc: Takes place after Geoff's visit with Shane and Michael's birthday party at Triangle, and before this NWS. For dr_jwilsonmd.]

House had been called on another page to the hospital, except that this one actually appeared to be an emergency, so Geoff decided to take the time to do a little exploring. He'd told House not be concerned if he wasn't there when the doctor returned, and pulling on his coat headed out into town.

It was a big place, quite a lot bigger than he was used to, but it was intriguing, and full of interesting-looking people. Eventually coming across another park, Geoff decided to take a little time to settle on the ground with his back leaned against a tree, rest a while, and watch the world go by.


[OOC: Locked to shane_mcc.]

It actually struck Geoff as rather amusing -- if not maybe just a bit sacreligious -- that his first stop in this new city was a place called Bethlehem. And it taken him a little work to find the place too, considering how large Tropolis was compared to his London. But several stops for directions to "the hospital" later (and he was taking a chance on Fate that this was even the right one), along with a lot of walking, Geoff wound up standing at the front door of a state-of-the-art medical facility, all glass and concrete and steel and pretty damn intimidating.

He was on a mission, though, and frankly he was also tired. He'd been walking for days, hadn't even expected to end up where he was, and it had been a long time since yesterday's supper. So through the doors he went, fixing a grin on his face he didn't feel inside and a saunter to his walk that belied his exhaustion, and approached the young woman at the desk.

"Good afternoon, my lady. Might you be so good as to direct me to the whereabouts of Dr. Greg House?"


[ooc: Geoff has arrived, although this is post is locked to gotcanewillpoke and dr_jwilsonmd for now.]

This post is to mark the separation between the Fandom High Geoff Chaucer and the Fandom Tropolis Geoff Chaucer. Everything from this point forward in this journal will pertain to fandom_tropolis.

For reference, Geoff's voicemail/cell phone can be reached here.

In the end there wasn't much to pack, mostly just the things he'd brought with him. A few extra books, gifts mainly, that he'd have to make sure to keep hidden -- because really, the fourteenth century was probably not ready for Sylvia Plath. A pocket watch and a ring, a set of metal-tipped quills, and his journals of course. A bottle of scotch and one of coffee liquer, which he wrapped carefully in his extra shirt. Then he made a couple of quick phone calls, and set the cell phone on table. Either he'd get another one, or it would be useless where he was going.

When he was finished, his pack was a little weightier than when he'd arrived, which gave him a sense of satisfaction. He pulled on his coat and slung the pack over his shoulder, whistled to Cash and put the dog on its leash, and headed out the door.

He took the long way through town, just to get one last look, before setting out across the causeway.


[ooc: Geoff Chaucer has left Fandom. Paige, if you wanted a word with him before he left, consider yourself one of the phone calls he made. Thank you to everyone, it's been a wonderful experience.]

I want to apologize to the people I've abandoned on unfinished threads. I've been fighting the Cold From Hell for about a week now, and it's determined to win. If I can rouse the energy and brainpower to do so, I'll try and catch some tags today. Otherwise...hopefully tomorrow.

kikidelivers: I know I bailed in the middle of your independent study session. *hangs head in shame* I'll do what I can to try and generate a coherent, intelligent response (but that may have to wait until tomorrow *g*) and get back on track.

Since I know this has already hit the grapevine, I thought it was probably time to announce officially that Geoff will be leaving Fandom at the end of February. He'll be teaching up until Spring Break, and his replacement will come on at that point. I'm not going to do a big 'goodbye' scene for him, you'll just see him pack up and head out. He's not going to make a secret of deciding to leave, though, so the people who generally interact with him will be aware of this. He'll also be making an announcement to his class.

Partly I'm doing this because Geoff isn't really fitting into the scheme of the game very well anymore, and I'm starting to have a little trouble keeping up with the pace of things outside of his classes. Also, frankly, he's a miserable little poet right now, and not a lot of fun to play in this state.

It has been a good time, and I'll be sorry to go – and Geoff will be sorry to leave as well.

Geoff's been puttering around the shop, trying to make it a little more livable now that he has a housemate, and setting up a place in the back room for Paige to crash. Luckily, House's couch has been delivered, so she'll actually have a comfortable place to sleep.

And he's worrying, just a little bit, because he hasn't seen House all day. Of course, that's certainly the doctor's right, to go off where he pleases, but still...something seems wrong and Geoff can't quite put his finger on it.

Hence, the worrying.

Although he'll deny it if you ask.


[ooc: For gotcanewillpoke. Slowplaying leik woah.]

[For gotcanewillpoke]

Geoff had headed straight out from class to his shop, grabbing a quick shower and changing into clothes that were a little more conducive to riding a motorcyle than the suits he usually wore to class -- his old leather trousers, a close-fitting sweater, and of course the leather jacket Ten had given him for Christmas (with the gloves tucked into the pocket).

So now, he's waiting in front of the shop, stretched out on the bench under the window with his hands behind his head and his feet propped against the doorjamb.



EDIT: Now NWS! (Guess maybe I should just go ahead and marks these threads that way right up front, huh?)

After his phone call with House, Geoff decides to keep a little closer eye on the weather. So he's watching out the window when the power goes out in town. "Guess that solves that," he murmurs to himself. Packing up his stack of papers, journal, and book (someone really needs to get this man a briefcase), he pulls on his coat and heads toward the clinic -- with a quick stop at the cafeteria to get dinner for them both.


[For gotcanewillpoke.]

A huge hug and many thanks to dr_jwilsonmd, who has gifted me with icon space for Geoff! You rock like a rockin' thing, m'dear.

*hugs and kisses and chocolate and coffee*

Whoo!