[Phone; Filtered from drones and the higher-ups]I really hope everyone's recovering from all the... everything. And I hope those of you who were stupid enough to fall for it are happy with yourselves. This town never, ever gives anything up so easily. They're just messing with our heads
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Hey there. You okay?
[She feels like she should say more, but... well, what do you say to a woman who watched you be murdered?]
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[ She hands over the bundle, it smells of cinnamon and is still warm. ]
Is everything back to normal for you?
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You didn't have to do this, Ilsa. But thank you.
I'm doing as well as can be expected. I've been in Mayfield for a year; it doesn't get any easier, but you learn how to cope and recover.
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I didn't find him.
I heard someone else took care of it, but that was after I was out of it.
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It's... it's fine. It's not your fault that he's a total monster and works there. And it's not your fault you were... taken out before you could do anything.
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It's why I put a geas before him to watch out for her. I'm not sure if he picked it up or not.
[ She shrugs ] I'm not above asking for the balance to help.
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[Pause.]
A geas? The balance?
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It's... not quite so much as complicated as different. Back home, I wasn't just a psychiatrist.
[ She's nervously looking about, almost as if she were checking for other observers. ]
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[Ema sets the bundle of baked goods down on the counter near where she's standing.]
What else did you do, if you don't mind my asking? I've been here long enough to not be surprised by much of anything, anymore.
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[ Ilsa traces her recognition sigil in the air between them, and it glows briefly with a pale blue light. ]
[ She waits for Ema's reaction before going further. ]
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Magic?
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[ She winces. ] I haven't even gotten enough control back to set up my usual house defenses. That's something I need to do soon.
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Not that I'd know; I don't come from a world where powers like that exist. It's all alien to me.
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[ Ilsa rubs the back of her neck. ] You'd be surprised what some people just refuse to see, because it doesn't fit their world view. I hate exploiting that, but sometimes I had to, just so someone could forget. There's a few "ferocious dog attacks" on the books because someone couldn't wrap their head around the memory that a hell-hound tried to eat them.
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And you're on the hunt? What do you hunt? Hell-hounds?
[All kinds of incredulous, here.]
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