30. now that it's raining more than ever, know that we'll still have each other

[mememaker]

HURT & COMFORT RP [EXPANDED]
Hurt/Comfort - Hurt/comfort is a fan fiction genre that involves the physical pain or emotional distress of one character, who is cared for by another character. The injury, sickness or other kind of hurt allows an exploration of the characters and their relationship.

- Post with Character Name | Series in the subject.
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Comments

Hermes | Rise of the Argonauts

[sacrificemecake]

(OOC: The roll may either be what's affected him, or what's affected your character - please specify. Any roll's A-OK.)

8 - and how the heck did they catch Him?

[ooeeooahah]

[ The doors all locked when she cut the power to the building, but that wasn't going to be a problem for her, as long as there weren't too many doors she needed to juice. The emergency generator had been fooled into not kicking on by the little toy she'd placed yesterday. ]

[ She only hoped she managed to cut the power to the sunlamps in his cell as well. ]

Maybe he wanted more failure stories to tell Jason back home. :P

[sacrificemecake]

[Time is a funny thing to gods. It flows steadily, but doesn't catch them in the current. Gods stand in the river and stomp around to stir up silt and observe the rocks erode and fish migrations and are surprised when they find a crayfish stuck in a soda can. But rarely do they find themselves in a situation where their head's shoved under water, where mud clouds their vision and river weed gets stuck up their nose. Rarely do gods become a part of mortal's time. The time that pulls, that drags relentlessly towards oblivion, lengthens the moment and passes years underhandedly. And here Hermes's in it again. Had been for around a year. That's another way time is funny to gods - a year's soon lost in forever.

But the feeling of lights and plugs breaking contact, fading from communication, brings him back. Hermes doesn't open his eyes - hasn't for a while. But he hears the hum - the sunlamps still shine. His cell is soundproof, and he's long been deprived of sustenance. Maybe raiding Epimelios wasn't the brightest idea.]

[ooeeooahah]

[ Who would have thought the import company with the lovely olive oil was actually a front for a cabal of mad scientists tapping into the nature of the supernatural? Well, naming themselves after a trickster might have been a clue. ]

[ The offices on the ground floor were empty, and the sounds of the distraction generated by her tactical group were echoing down the halls as she found the emergency stairwell. Opening the door into the basement, she swore softly.]

Aaaah, fish on a bicycle!

[ Of course they had a separate power source for the labs. A second look gave her hope, though - these were the emergency lights only. From the shambles the lab was in, she guessed the usual occupants had left in a hurry. ]

[ It was past time to get Him out. The door to His cell was locked when the power was cut, but the battery unit she carried did the trick. The light inside the cell was blinding to her, and they had Him under these for weeks? Her anger fueled her strength as she disabled the control panel. ]

You called for a ride?

[sacrificemecake]

['Guardian/keeper of flocks' isn't suggestive of nefarious practices. But that could've been why they chose it. Moving on. The electrical break in communication interests Hermes enough to throw his hearing beyond his cell. But after being in soundproof solitary confinement, he's quick to flick it back. By the time Ilsa gets to his cell, he sits patiently. And smiles a little, hearing her voice, and replies, tone gentle, if not too soft.]

I was waiting for that. Took you long enough.

[Hermes stands up, a little slowly. His face is gaunt, glows faint, and his left eyelids have skin missing - a small triangular cut in each, won't be noticeable until he opens his eyes at close proximity. Slimmed muscles as well, especially in the arms and torso, and some parts of his skin have a stony, grainy texture. But he's quick to throw on a guise. A woman - one of the workers here. His eyes are still closed. He takes a step towards the door, towards Ilsa. He's silent for a moment, then laughs thinly.]

You even brought a diversion party! I'm

[ooeeooahah]

[ He wasn't fast enough to hide the depredations with that seeming. She wedges the door open and embraces him. ]

Dad's book-club was looking for a night out. We don't want to stay here too much longer, even if they are winning.

[ Her voice is tight with anger at the facility, and worry over His diminished physique. She had many questions as to how this had happened, but they could wait until they had Him at the safe-house, and he felt like telling the tale. ]

[ She leads Him to the stairwell, and away from the lights. Fumbling in her jacket pocket, she gives Him her sunglasses. ]

Don't open your eyes until you have to, but this might help if you do.

[ They made it to the loading dock just as the fire alarm sounded. ]

I'm surprised they kept Otto from setting anything alight this long. The car is over here.

[sacrificemecake]

[Hermes allows himself to be led. Once they're out of the cell, he peeks open an eye, soon both, and looks around without moving his head. He moves stiffly, but if that's because of the tight knee skirt and high heels or not is debatable. When Ilsa offers him the sunglasses, he accepts, puts them on, and smirks when she looks forward, the slightest grin. Along the way he snatches a couple things, slips them in his pockets, but he's careful to do it smoothly

[ooeeooahah]

[ Ilsa thinks very hard about throwing something at the worker, but instead concentrates on being unnoticeable, and unmemorable. It's nothing like what one of Hermes's guises would be, but maybe it can help keep the lab personnel off His trail. ]

Going to the ER, just to make sure.

[ Helping Hermes into the car, she murmurs, ] Don't worry about it, just relax and buckle up.

[ She waves to the worker, and quickly drives off. ]

The car's a rental, and I can have someone drop it in the lot after it's been cleaned. The guy who signed the paperwork for the car won't be seen again for a year or two.

[ A shame, because that beard had served her well. ]

I'm sorry I didn't find You sooner.

[sacrificemecake]

[The man slows, stops, cautiously accepts her reason - after all, Ilsa'd played along to what he believed. Hermes complies after a moment, sits, stares at the seat belt a while. But he buckles in. Small car. Such a small car. And once they start moving, he gently edges his hearing back to him, just in time to catch Ilsa's last statement. He collapses against the seat, against the headrest, and shuts his eyes again, lets his mouth hang open. It's a while before he speaks.]

...When did you start looking?

[Hermes won't be casting off his guise soon.]

[ooeeooahah]

...eight months ago.

[ It hurts to admit it took her four months to realize He was in trouble, and not just distracted by one of His questions. ]

You don't really have a set schedule, or a regular address. You've disappeared for longer times, but...

[ Just admitting she missed His company sounded so weak, even to herself. ]

[sacrificemecake]

[He exhales through his nose in amusement - or scorn? - and sits forward slightly.]

You started missing me?

[In truth, Hermes had been held in that place for far less than a year. During most of his absence he'd retained his guide aspect as his single tie to divinity. And he had run into many troubles, made many mistakes, learned of and saw things that disheartened him. His wasted state wasn't brought purely by the experiments.]

[ooeeooahah]

Yes, I did.

[ Her knuckles turn white on the steering wheel, as she fights to control her voice, thinking that He is still resting His eyes. ]

As much as it may amuse You to find out, I've been quite attached to You for some time.

[ She hasn't taken her eyes off the road. She doesn't dare look at Him for this. ]

Even if You can be the rudest cuss ever and the patron god of Attention Deficit Disorder, I didn't spend the better part of a year trying to find you because of any hope of patronage, o-or because of the world needs Hermes, but because I missed you.

[ She isn't aware that she's no longer talking about the deity, but the personality behind the divinity. ]

I missed you. I wanted your company, a-and...

[ Not going to cry, dangit... ]

[sacrificemecake]

[His eyes are open, though they belong to someone else. Ilsa may notice if she glances at the rear view mirror. He listens to her without much physical reaction - keeps his face unreadable, as he taught himself. But slowly, ever so slowly, he sits back against the seat, notes that's the third time she's said his name. His eyes leave what he can find of her in the mirrors, flick and focus beyond the car, past the first dots of rain. They look like stars, so small on the window

[ooeeooahah]

[ That startled sound might have been a laugh, no matter what it was when it began. ]

I sometimes think Lorenz's term for sensitive dependence on initial conditions was inspired by your reaction to a butterfly migration path.

[ Still focused on the road and the worsening weather, her voice becomes quieter, perhaps attempting to mask her emotional state. ]

Maybe it's just because I'm unable to follow the multiple paths thoughts can take when they're in your head.

[ Another pause as navigates another intersection, then she speaks again. ]

Shoot, I can't figure out my head, these days.

[sacrificemecake]

Should anyone's thought not turn on its way to the bank, their neighbors will rile. All those lot violations...

[One way to tell if Hermes is relaxed is if he says something that makes little to no sense. He's about to comment on Ilsa not figuring her head out, but decides his situation is more important.]

...Where are you taking me?

[He's back to looking out the window again.]

[ooeeooahah]

[ She gives a small sigh of relief when he quotes what sounds to be cerebral homeowner association rules. ]

We are going to an emergency room, but only as far as the parking lot. Trading vehicles, then on to a place to stay until we can figure out the next step,

[ She nearly says more, but clamps down on the rest of the thought. ]