Hippolyta Hollister

"Oh, damn, and I have spilled some on you, please, I am so sorry. And I do not know about stains, I--" He lifts his feet to make sure he isn't leaving inky bird-tracks.

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He can find it in him to chuckle. "Relax. The humans have something wonderful they call "Oxy-Clean." Miraculous, really."

He is rather impressed. It's the first time he's seen Djehuty fully hieroglyphic...at least, while he's awake.

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"And she has this wonderful thing called scourgify, which is even better. She still rolls her eyes whenever she uses it, though."

Dez. Oh, sweet jesus, Dez, please be okay...

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He blinks a bit, looking rather sniffly and damp around the edges. Then with an effort he goes back to being solid and present. He hugs Ruthven tight, and then kneels to help clean up.

"I will buy some Oxy-Clean, then, for you here, and save you from eye-rolling."

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"I hope she rolls her eyes at me for the rest of her life."

She gives up at the clean up effort and puts her head on Djehuty's lap.

"You're so good. You and Hermes. So good. I feel so wicked whenever I'm around you two. Why is that, I wonder?"

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He pats her hair, awkwardly at first. "Oh, no, no...you are not wicked, you are not. You are such a good and fiercely loving friend, that is good. It's more complicated to be human, that is all...."

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She says nothing to that, but just nods a bit distractedly, turning her face to look at him when Ruthven addresses her.

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"See? You are the best of all possible guests."

He turns to Hollister. "Regarding Mr. Osborn. Is he, in fact, being nagged to eat and not sink into utter despondency?"

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"I... I dunnow. Last I heard he was still trapped, I don't even know where he is... Did Dez get him out in time?" She looks apologetic. "Wade gave me a happy little pill that knocked me right the hell out. I've been asleep for the past day and a half."

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"Good lord, I envy you. No, I think they got him out. I seem to remember Serenskaya sending me a rather incoherent and sleep-deprived note. She was keeping him in the surgery." He peers at her. "And you? Are you all right?"

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Djehuty is patting her back, and giving Ruthven an ibisy anxious look.

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"I'm scared shitl... sorry. Sick. Scared sick. Heh. I don't know why, it's hard for me to cuss around you guys. I feel like a kid getting caught scrawling dirty words on a fence."

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"I know lots of bad words. I can teach you some more, if you like, some time."

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"Can you teach me to cuss in ancient Egyptian? I think Wade would appreciate that. I think he's getting sick of 'smeg.'"

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"I can! I can, and I will. Sometime when we've had more to drink than cocoa, though, I think."

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She laughs, although it's not anywhere near her usual, free laugh. "We can get smashed when Dez and Hermes come back. To celebrate. A birthday party. Heh."

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"I think that's one of the best ideas I have heard all day. God, yes."

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Ruthven returns the anxious look with a slightly more serene, but not-very, one. His eyes are doing that polished-tin thing again.

"I expect it's because in this reality we're ever so much older than you, my dear, but do feel free to use extremely creative language around me at least. I'm not sure about Djehuty."

He gives her a bit of a smile. "And it's quite understandable to be frightened. I myself am bloody terrified, but I doubt it's having any effect."

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"Oh, boy. If you're scared, then I should probably ratchet up my own flailing."

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"I beg of you, don't." He makes an effort, and the eyes are just ordinary grey eyes again. "Hermes knows what he's doing, and Serenskaya can just about follow instructions, if they're given to her in a clear and understandable manner. They'll do, Miss Hollister."

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Djehuty nods firmly, gratefully. "They will. They truly will."

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Another chuckle. "Hey, no pickin' on Dez when she's not around to defend herself. Or I'll turn you into a fruit bat. Oh. Wait. Bazookoid's at the Lab still. Rats."

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"You wound me. Bats, yes, but fruitbats? Beneath a Ruthven's dignity."

He looks hopeful. "There any more cocoa left? With those little marshmallows in it? I love those."

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Djehuty bobs his head. "They melt, they do melt, in the hot chocolate, and they cling to the side of the mug, it is just like I imagined."

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