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]

Ahh, but what of that one outlying Liliana? Since it was hardly unanimous...

Ignis head tilted, slightly, at this abrupt, albeit valuable, information. One might consider it entirely a non-sequitor, but considering the source, considering the topic they'd just been discussing, he found it difficult...nay, downright impossible...to believe that Liliana was just pulling details out from the vault at random.

He let out a soft, thoughtful hum. "And indeed," he said, "one I am admittedly quite fond of using. In moderation, of course. But something very helpful to keep in mind."

A soft, gentle smile.

"Though I'll have to now completely rework my entire lavender-centric plans for dinner, but better I know now than before it's far too late."

He carefully extracted himself from his, from the bed, leaning in to kiss her forehead before straightening to his feet.

"But I have kept you off your lunch for long enough already. Anything else I should get for you while I'm downstairs?"

[deathsmajesty]

Nobody liked or listened to her and she was kept locked in the attic like the ex-wife of an innocent governess' brooding employer.

"It's something to keep you occupied while I nap for a few hours and can't entertain you with my scintillating conversation," she offered, unaware of any idle thoughts of going to abuse gym equipment instead, if such things still existed after a morning of caretaking. "Some more juice would be lovely and I've heard baked goods are a known headache reliever..."

She grinned up at him, lacing their fingers together. "And perhaps soup for yourself, that we might have lunch together," she added, a little more softly.