Love's Labor Day Lost.

[velesdonnersen]

[Tarvek awakes to find himself gazing up at a cieling that isn't his own. He's memorized the plaster of his quite well already, having spent enough nights staring up at it, trying to ignore the presence of The Betty, and later of Luka.  'E's a gennemun, 'e is, an' not one to take advannage of a laidy, after all

Comments

[ooeeooahah]

[ Ilsa doesn't wake up readily, except in panic. Hearing Tarvek's voice waking her up is not panic-inducing. She moves to curl up on his shoulder when the meaning of the words begin to penetrate the sleep fog. ]

Mnr? 's happinin' 'bibi?

[ She blinks at the tuxedo, then the room. ]

Oh, ye jigs and juleps, do they need an interior decorator, or what?

[ Okay, her priorities may be scrambled by the sleep-fog. ]

[velesdonnersen]

[He's a complete marshmallow for her cuddling on his shoulder, but he's also aware that Mayfield could be doing something horrible. And the room really is ugly...]

Don't know, love. Woke up here. With you. Which shows an unsettling awareness on Mayfield's part, given we're in different houses, married to different not!spouses, and Mayfield has the moral structure it does.

However it seems to want to dress you up. I have to say, it shows incredible taste.

[ooeeooahah]

[ She looks down at what she's wearing. ]

Hm. Not something Nadine ever designed for me, so it's Mayfield. Surprising tastes....

[ Wishful thinking aside, she scans the room from a defensive standpoint, and moves to sit on the edge of the bed. Mayfield just had to give her stiletto heels? Still, not taking them off immediately, since she's not quite sure about the carpet. ]

Standard hotel room layout, have you tried the doors, yet?

[velesdonnersen]

[Snotty and defensive, because, well, he could have checked it first...but didn't. Instead he sat there admiring her, and her dress.]

I thought you'd want to be part of the fun, liebchen. A Mayfield mystery.

[He strides to the door and gives the handle a firm twist and pull. No luck. Considers, and frowns. He does a classic shoulder-bump on the door. It doesn't even give -- as though it were a solid part of a brick wall. No give at all.]

Check the windows, liebchen. See if there's any sign they can open. Ever could open...