Creepy Mansion Full of Misery and Woe, Thursday Afternoon

[deathsmajesty]

Last night's indulgences (one could say to the point of excesses) had left Liliana with a fairly mild hangover. You know, the kind that a few glasses of water (or, better yet, a bottle of red Gatorade because blue was for cops), a few ibuprofen, and a cold shower could settle quite easily. That being said, Liliana was, of course, treating like she'd contracted some kind of wasting disease that had left her woebegone and bereft, unable to leave her bed, a most tragic expression affixed to her face.

Her head hurt and the sunshine was too bright and there was a weird hat on her head that kept appearing no matter how many times she took it off, and she wanted to sleep a little more but the dull throbbing in her head got minutely worse when she closed her eyes and and and--

Okay, it was a very short list of not-actual complaints, but Liliana was pouting and aggrieved about it anyway. There was no way she could go to work in this condition, obviously, that was far too much to ask someone suffering so terribly. All she was capable of doing was wasting away here in her bed, too weak to even continue the fight with the stupid hat.

Woe.

[Mostly establishy, but certainly available for phone calls, drop-ins, or any gentlemen who have been taken in by this showing of utter misery like no one else has ever experienced in the world.]

Comments

[chef_chocobro]

Truly, the level of suffering in this house this Thursday was unparalleled and it was all Ignis could do to try his best to soften the edges of such tribulations and lessen the misery by any margin at his disposal. But honestly, after the intensity of emotions he'd been feeling last night,from his conversation with Stark, to the reminder of all that he could have lost, all of the things he had, and just the sheer abandon in which Liliana had been enjoying things this week and just wanting to be dragged onto it until he was absolutely suffocating....the somewhat quiet of this bedridden day was welcome, the clear objectives in tending to her, the familiar beats of caring and fussing, making sure there was hardly anything except simply not being hungover she could be wanting for, keeping her supplied in curatives and hydration and wrll-fluffed pillows... it had a calming, settling effect on him that was incredibly appreciated.

"How are we feeling?" he asked, on one occasion of drifting back in to check on Liliana, to spend a little time with her before attempting to depart so she could get some peaceful rest without distraction. He drifted over to the bed, sat down beside her. "Hungry for anything yet? Maybe feeling up to an invigorating bit of fresh air with a jaunty jog around the island, perhaps?"