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.
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Drive on, then.
[He finds the seat adjustment lever and angles it back.]
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[ Parking in a section of the lot that is not terribly well-lit, Ilsa gets out of the car, and hurries around to help Hermes out... and into the vehicle in the next space. ]
[ The car is at a comfortable temperature, having been just driven there, from the heat signature over the hood. Ilsa gets in and drives off, taking the roads towards the downtown business district. ]
Not long now.
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I followed the bearded lady's advice and got a room at the Saratt. If that's any closer than what you have in mind.
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[ Her voice is tight. ]
The place was supposed to be better guarded than it was... i-it wasn't supposed to have been a chink in the armor.
[ A few more moments and she has her voice back under control. ]
I have a safe-house arranged. It should be nearly invisible to the outside, but not blocked from the inside out.
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Oh...I stole some good stuff for that room. Caught myself in my own trap once. Though I guess that's how they first learned.
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[ Ilsa falls silent, the tension in her shoulders giving away her distress. ]
[ She pulls into an underground garage, parking the car in a space marked as reserved, but the name is illegible. ]
[ Still being careful to support Hermes as they walk to the elevator, she finally speaks. ]
I'm sorry to take the decisions for tonight, but... just let me give You some time to rest and renew.
Please?
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All right, Ilsa. What's beyond the next step?
[An underground garage. Reserved parking in a house meant to keep him from the eyes of the outside world. Yeah he doubts this place. But for now he'll play along.]
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The condo is owned by one of my cousins. Lenore said you can use it as long as you need. She only knows I have a friend who might need to lie low and recharge. The wards on the place are hers. She's from Daddy's side of the family, so no real records of her exist on this plane.
[ The words spill rapidly, as if she's worried she won't get to cover everything. ]
I don't know what you'll need to recover, but whatever it is, if I can help, whatever it is, please let me know....
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A room with a balcony would help.
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Yes, there is a balcony. Lenny's "Don't Notice Me" extends out across it.
[ Her rate of speech has slowed, but Ilsa is still keeping an eye on the floor indicator. ]
She's got the place warded eight ways from sundown, all of it set up to be like a one-way mirror. Nobody sees in unless you "light up" the interior, so as long as nobody sets up a major work, all seems normal.
[ Just as the elevator slows for their floor, she adds: ]
Her signature is different from mine, so even if they traced me, we should be okay for a little bit.
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[And in a blink, his guise of the worker woman's gone. He looks healthy again - the gauntness, the fading glow, the emaciation, is gone. And he moves to kiss her, to run his hand up her spine and into her hair. But it's short, teasing, and in a moment Hermes draws away and guises himself as the worker woman again.]
Keep that moment just between us.
[He's pretty sure there're surveillance cameras. The elevator doors open and he steps out, looks at the floor. Thin carpet.]
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[ Unlocking the door takes a fraction longer, the actions seems to be someone fighting with a recalcitrant lock, except for those familiar with locks might note there is a pattern. Finally, the door opens, and Ilsa shrugs. ]
Just got to hold your mouth right for it.
[ She smiles, and bows to him as he enters. ]
To the hearth, be welcome.
[ She kicks off he shoes in the entryway, shrugging out of her jacket as she walks into the living space.
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Got a little something from their computer system. Or should it wait 'til tomorrow?
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It is tomorrow, hon...
[ Ilsa steps forward and catches Hermes's face in her hands. Not touching the eyes, she examines closer. ]
You can't hide all the injuries, can you?
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[When Ilsa touches his face, he doesn't react. But when she moves closer, examines him, he angles his head back slightly. Still, she'll find nothing more than those triangular skin removals as evidence. Hermes doesn't reply because he feels his words will betray him as well.]
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