♣ Application

[professionaldefibrillist]

NAME: Emily
JOURNAL: iluvroadrunner6
EMAIL: iluvroadrunner6@yahoo.com
AIM: iluvroadrunner6
WIKI NAME: iluvroadrunner
CHARACTERS: TBD

CHARACTER NAME: Dr. Lawrence Kutner
FANDOM: House MD
CANON: 405: Mirror Mirror
WHAT THEY LOST: Any memories related to his birth parents.

PERSONALITY: Kutner is the kind of person who’s not afraid to take risks, whether it be for his own personal enjoyment or in order to save a patient. He’s a lot like House in that respect, where he likes to think outside the box, and he likes to push the limits. He nearly electrocuted himself trying to save a patient who was soaking wet, but needed the use of the defibrillators. He also set another patient on fire doing the same thing, earning him the nickname of House’s “professional defibrillist.” A short attention span combined with a general interest for everything leaves him constantly searching for the new and exciting, to the point where he’s willing to try almost everything once.

Kutner is also very gentle with a great bedside manner. He tries to relate to every patient he can on some level. He feels if he can find some way to connect with them, he can more helpfully diagnose them. He’s good with people, and is relatively easy to talk to. He’s also a huge comic book and science-fiction fan, which he often works into the different elements of his conversation. He also tries his best to be there for his friends, to help talk them through things and understand where they’re coming from. He even tends to offer his help unsolicited, and has developed strong bonds with the other members of House’s team, Doctors Chris Taub and Remy Hadley.

Despite his tendency to act like a goof at times, he really is quite smart. He’s even stolen some of House’s epiphany moments on occasion, solving the case before House could figure it out. He doesn’t rub House’s face it in, but he seems to enjoy the medicine and the challenge of trying to find things out that other people can’t.

THIRD-PERSON WRITING SAMPLE: Kutner hates silence.

He knows there are times when silence is necessary, and that he should keep his mouth shut, but silence was always a sign of bad news. The long, pregnant pause right before the gut shot was the favorite tactic of the state troopers who had told him that his parents were dead, as well as the social worker who was trying to explain that since he didn’t have any local family in the area, he was going to be placed in foster care. Silence reminded him of times he’d rather not repeat, and things that needed to be said that weren’t. Silence was clearly the enemy.

That was most of the reason why he wouldn’t shut up a lot of the time.

He rambled to fill the space, almost as though to delay the inevitable. He talked even when most times he should have just shut up, he talked when he knew for the fact that it was sounding stupid—he talked because it was something to say. A lot of the time what he said was neither relevant, nor an attempt to make sense, but it was something. He’s like to think it was comforting. And it was certainly less awkward than silence.

He knew most people thought it was annoying.

Actually, he knew probably everyone thought it was annoying.

As far as he was concerned, he could live with that. It was either you’d rip it off like a band-aid, or you talk them to death, either way—sometimes it was just easier to talk about the lack of George Lucas’s inspired genius in a person’s life, rather than the fact that they’re dying and he didn’t know why. It was easier to talk about himself, his likes, dislikes, experiences, and take the focus off that person and their own. It was easier to trust them, let them know he sympathized with them and their situation, rather than try and analyze the words they didn’t say in the silence of the exam room.

Talking was just easier. And the day that he didn’t have something to say? He was going to be very, very worried.

FIRST-PERSON WRITING SAMPLE: I know a lot of the time that people think I’m crazy. Or—masochistic. Probably leaning a lot more towards crazy a lot of the time, and it’s probably true. I mean, look at my track record—I set a patient on fire and electrocuted myself on another one. I know I’m a liability for the hospital, and that eventually, a patient is going to sue me, regardless of the fact that I may have saved their life. Cuddy was right to put me on the chopping block. I wasn’t mad about that.

I was mad because Cole actually went through with it.

I know he was just honoring the terms of the deal, and all that, but he was my friend. He was my friend and he sold me out for a job, and yeah, maybe it was a pretty awesome job—I was there, I wanted it myself—but I’d like to think that I wouldn’t sell out what could be a great friendship all for a paycheck every week. That doesn’t make sense to me. I mean, after everything me and Cole had done together—the magic show, me hanging out with his kid—I thought we were tight. I thought we were, and I was wrong.

Nothing really I can do about it now, but—we could have been great friends. Guess most of the time, you can only do so much.