Summary:Bast just happens to 'drop by' The Cover Story to un-curse May. What could go wrong? Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
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The door to Cover Story opens, making the bell above it jangle happily. "Why are you bringing us here, Bethany?" The voice of the woman that precedes the blonde is familiar to the proprietor of the bookstore. The tall, stern, blonde is accompanied by a slighter shorter dark haired woman who looks a lot like Catherine Zeta Jones - but isn't.
The feeling of 'other wordliness' that accompanies is palpable - *if* one has the senses to feel it.
"Veronica, I told you. There's someone I must see here … Now. Where is she. I wonder if she's here yet…"
See…there's a lot of warding spells on Cover Story, a LOT. Many of them are very proactive about defense, but most are alarms. The arrival of another deity will definitely trigger some major alarms, so it isn't Loki Laufeyson the man who appears, it is Loki Laufeyson the GOD and he's more than a little vexed. Really, first that little guttersnipe, less than a week ago…for a guy that ages a hundred times slower than humans, that's like half a day.
And then he realizes who it is, and stands down a bit. "Hello, Bastet, you're a bit far afield of your usual stomping grounds." His sword is not even visible, though there's a dagger or three visible. "To what do I owe the pleasure? May I offer you something to drink or eat after your long journey?"
Having had a rather extremely unsettling encounter last time she'd visited Cover Story, May is currently enjoying a rare extension of sorcerer Loki's hospitality — he's shown her Sigyn's vegetable and herb garden. She'd been leery at first, but is now quite contentedly basking in the warmth of the open-air yet warm as a greenhouse area behind the bookstore. The neighbors must be positively BLUE with envy.
One ear flicks toward the shop proper as she hears the front door open and close, but … she's just finally completely warm and comfortable, and loathe to move. Thus, the arrival of Astryd and one Bethany is given little more than a lazy wave of her tail.
The ear says cocked in that direction though, because she's NOT above eavesdropping.
Sigyn materializes in the garden, not the store proper, and in Asgardian formal wear though not armor. Loki, after all, is expected to be the aggressive one. Sigyn's reputation is of a more domestic sort. She smiles at Melinda, "Good to see you again. Enjoying my garden?" She offers her fingertips to Melinda in greeting, even as she keeps cautious tabs on the visitors. Sigyn is -hoping- that things will go well, that it is help for Melinda that arrived. But… well… hope for the best, prepare for the worst.
"Loki." Bast smirks at Astryd, who she called Veronica, as the God appears. "I believe you have one of mine here … I can sense her."
May feels the tug on her, urging her to follow. It's not domineering but deep down she really wants to follow this.
"Bring her forth, if you will."
Astryd steps to the side and starts browsing the books."Loki. It is good to see you again."
Loki can sense his wife's appearance outside, and her proximity to Tortie-May. /Good/, he thinks. That's still the grounds of the house, so her home based boost is in full effect. That's very good, in case things go Pear-Shaped.
It is a tad concerning that Bastet does not accept his offer of refreshment.
And then follows that up with making demands, politely worded, but still -demands- in his home. He cannot help but bristle a bit.
However…he is not really up for a duel with another deity, not in his home and place of business.
A gracious smile to Pruor. "Hello, Lady Astryd, how's your lord doing?" And then he looks back to Bastet, and sends his thoughts to Sigyn. «Wife Sigyn, if you'd be so kind, and if she does not object, bring the cat in please.»
« It is very soothing here, » May mrrs in reply to the question posed to her. She blinks slowly up at Sigyn, arching her whiskers toward the offered fingertips but still not in the habit of actually sniffing.
She then, without really consciously understanding why, stands and streeetches, the bobs her head to her hostess. « Thank you for letting me spend some time here. I've needed it. » After all, she's been missing the catharsis of the almost meditative act of fixing tea as well and the tried and true method for clearing one's self of aggressions: kicking butt.
Hopping down lightly from her lounging spot, she goes to the door leading back inside and pushes through it paws first, partly because humans don't typically open doors with their faces. Mostly because it just smells odd that up-close and feels weird against her whiskers.
As soon as she's inside and can smell the newcomers, she becomes far more cautious and slinks to observe from under a display table. One of them smells vaguely like Sigyn (and like dog), the other… different in a way she's not ever encountered before.
Sigyn follows Melinda inside and nods politely to Bast. "Greetings, welcome to my home. May I offer you refreshment?" She keeps close to Melinda, her body-language a bit protective. After all, Melinda did get tangled up in a cursed object and the fact that it was an accident not malice on May's part may or may not matter to Bast. Deities are not required to be reasonable, and since it's rare to run into someone with enough power to make them be reasonable, most never develop the habit.
Astryd also has a faint scent of death, barely noticeable but it's there. "My Lord is well and if he knew we coming here today …" The blonde casts a brunette a *look* "… he would send his regards. Forgive our intrusion but … Bethany … was insistent that we stop here."
As tortie-May comes in, Bast turns her attention to her, watching her slink under that table. "Come here, little one and tell me what you did …"
Did. It's a curse. That's what people have said and Bast seems to be acknowledging that.
"Lady Sigyn. I had heard you'd returned to Midgard. I trust that you have been pleased to do so. Do you have tea, by chance? A nice egyptian blend, perhaps?"
A little nettled that he's being ignored by Bast, or the older name he met her with, Bastet, Loki instead turns his attention to Sigyn as she arrives. «I already offered, she seems in a bit of a mood.» He mentally grouses to her, but see, he's being GOOD! No insults, cloaked flaming stword still sheathed, nobody lit on fire or stabbed with a dagger!
He inclines his head to Astryd then, and nods. "Convey my regards to my son, Lady, if you'd be so kind."
Now he's REALLY nettled, when she accepts tea from his wife, but…okay, fine, that is the role of a hostess. He'll just grump a bit on the inside, and try to stay gracious.
No doubt Bast is having fun poking at him too. Toying with him, as it were.
May reacts as Sigyn and Loki will likely expect to Bethany's words, her ears flattening to the sides and her tailtip twitching. Did? What she did? Who the hell is this woman, and how dare she instantly presume guilt that way? May hasn't tolerated scolding from ANYONE since her last supervising senior agent, more than ten years ago.
Not moving (other than ears and tail) and not replying right away, she's feverishly trying to think of anything that she's DONE of late that this strange woman might be asking about. She's … ducked out of playing tea party with a six year old repeatedly…
Sigyn smiles at Bast. "Of course. Is Koshary alright?" She summons a blown glass tea set, the dark black tea flavored with mint and heavy with sugar as is traditional. A plate of cookies appears as well, scarcely surprising as Sigyn is fond of baking and the time of year gives an excuse if Sigyn needed one. "I always enjoy my stays on Midgard. The changes seem to come faster and faster, but that is what makes it interesting." She pours the cups of tea, and lets Bast and Astryd select cups first, before Loki and Sigyn take what is left. She even pours some into a small bowl and works a quick 'remove caffeine' spell and sets it down for Melinda. "I believe she is asking how you got trapped in your current form."
Sigyn looks at Bast, "From what she told me earlier, she had a certain collar in her possession when an incompetent magus had a spell backfire nearby and well…" Sigyn looks thoughtful. "I could see a bit of that mages magic still tangled in the mess, and offered to try to transfer the curse to him. But she declined to save herself at another's expense."
Bast looks at Loki and smirks a little. Does she know what's going through his mind. "Do you have any Basbousa to go with the tea, Lord of Mischief?" Basbousa, Egyptian Semolina Cake. Maybe she's doing it on purpose.
When May doesn't come forward, Bast clears a space on the counter top and pats it. "Up here, little one, and let me look. You can talk to me, you know, I will understand." Her fingers trace over the collar that circles that cats neck and sighs "I was wondering where I left this, where did you find it?" beat "It's a good thing you didn't try to transfer the curse. This was some of my priestesses best work."
A glance to Sigyn and Loki. "I'll need help with the ritual to remove this and break the curse, if you two you would be so kind as to do so? Astryd, I need you call a shade forth from my dominion. I would do it, but they'll just ignore me if I do…"
"As for you little one, you must be aware that everything has a price. For me to remove the collar and break this curse, you have to be willing to accept the price. It can't be done any other way."
The three Asgardians present know this to be case.
Before doing anything, the Egyptian Cat Goddess, watches May intently, waiting to see if she'll accept.
Rather than offend the goddess, rather than be a poor host, Loki simply nods. "It will be my honor to get you some, Lady Bastet." Yes, he's used to the older form of her name. Regardless, Loki takes a moment to walk the ways to Egypt, a divination cast to find the best Basbousa in the country, and then walks to there. Rather than dicker, he simply cloaks himself in illusion, and then takes what he wants. Since he doesnt't want to offend by the theft, he leaves behind an ancient Egyptian coin - a coin in mint condition with Bastet's likeness on it. Maybe it will start some useful rumors!
Only then does he return, his fire magic used to keep it warm as it was when it emerged from the oven.
He returns in good time to hear Bast's description of what is needed, and then he nods. "Of course. This mortal is very sensible, and shows proper respect. She is honorable and brave, my honor to assist."
WOW. That's some serious praise from /Loki/.
He does nod very subtly towards May, confirming that there is a price to be paid.
May glances up at Sigyn, truly appreciating the woman's graceful and understated hospitality, and then samples a bit of the tea. Ugh. Too sweet. She doesn't feel at all bad about abandoning the saucer's worth of beverage and — however reluctantly — padding forward and hopping up onto the counter top as indicated.
« It is as Her Grace Sigyn explained, » she mrrps, the definitely not original bell attached to the collar translates her meaning to a chiming synthesized imitation of Engligh that is very likely not at all needed in this collection of people. She tolerates the examination of the collar, then explains how she came by the unusual item. « It was listed as belonging to an … unusual guest of the organization that I work for. A cat with a second head somehow surgically attached and referred to by the nickname 'Besas'. » No, she doesn't realize where that nickname came from. « I put it in my jacket pocket for safekeeping, and I really should have returned it promptly, » she adds a bit ruefully.
« What is the price for breaking this curse? » She asks of the dark-haired woman a bit warily even though Loki has nodded to confirm bast — wait, BASTET? Goshe. — the woman's explanation. If it means someone else has to die, or live the rest of their days as a cat, she's going to say no. She won't wish that on anyone else, and really, she's close enough to the end of her ability to be an active field agent that this would possibly be a thankfully short retirement.
Sigyn nods politely, "I would be honored to assist." She doesn't address the matter of trying to transfer the curse. Melinda said no, and that was that. She nods subtly in approval when Melinda asks what the price would be. Agreeing blindly is a bad idea when magic is involved, much less deities.
Bast smiles broadly when Loki appears, taking the cake and tasting it delicately. "Oh. This is good. Almost as good as the one from the Egyptian bakery down the road …" The smirk gives it away. She's teasing. Though there really is a very good Egyptian bakery down the road.
"So the collar wasn't really intended for him either, I think. These things often change hands many times." She considers. "As much as I wish I could just remove the curse, it's not possible. Magic doesn't behave that way. I can't say what the price will be, magic exacts its own costs. It's a gamble you are going to have to take."
"Lady Sigyn, is that lemon poppy-seed I smell from upstairs? I think you've been baking for Yule. I will need a tincture of lemon poppy-seed and apple cider vinegar, if you please."
"Lord Loki. I will need your assistance in my casting. Yours as well, when you return, Lady Sigyn. Astryd, if you can find the warrior Djoser. The warrior, mind, not the Pharoah."
Loki is pleased that May has a good head on her shoulders, she's not dumb to ask the price - even if her concerns are a tad overly sentimental. Still, she's bright for a woman with /no/ magic whatever, no real understanding of it. «I should steal an apple from Idunn's grove for you to make a cider of for this one.» He bespeaks to Sigyn. «What could possibly go wrong?» Yes, he likes tempting fate, Loki does.
His smile remains firmly in place when Bast comments on the cake, and then blithely teases a bit, ah well, she IS a cat, perhaps The Cat, really.
"Sometimes, little one, you needs must roll the dice and hope the Norns don't want to shove them up your arse, sideways." Yes, the voice of experience!
To Bast, he nods. "Very well, Lady Bastet, my aid if offered and without any debt incurred for it to anyone."
Sigyn frowns just for a moment, then produces two vials, plucking them seemingly from thin air. "Tincture of Poppy seed and Tincture of lemon." The apple cider vinegar appears in a larger brown glass jug. Her husband's tempting of fate generates a mental sigh from her. «Well… if you don't get caught… making a cider of it should change the effects of the apples only slightly. Enough for plausible deniablity, perhaps. We'll have to think about it a bit. But I'm fond of the mortal as well. She's respectful, honorable, amd sensible. All good traits. But let's get her back in human form first, dear. One thing at a time.» The mental conversation is quick, taking no longer than it takes to give Loki a slightly exasperated look. And to be fair, Sigyn probably gives Loki a great many of those.
'Magic exacts its own costs'. Great. Well, in for a penny in for a pound. May resettles her front paws and curls her tail around them. « If you are not going to remove the curse, what will you be doing with it? » She has a sneaking suspicion that it will amount to the same thing that Sigyn already offered — transferring the curse to another. And if that's the case, she's already refused once.
When the jog of vinegar appears, her ears twitch and it takes every bit of self control she has to not make a face at the SMELL. As it is, she's squinted her eyes against it.
"What was that child?" Bast looks at May with a frown. "No, no. *Just* remove the curse, without cost." She clarifies, offer a small feral smile to Sigyn as the ingredients appear. Finding a bowl, the dark haired woman mixes them together and sets the bowl in front of May, ignoring the wrinkling nose and squinting eyes.
"If you would, please, Astryd?"
Astryd has been quiet and she looks to Loki for permission to do what she must within his shop. When that's received, the blonde concentrates. The air becomes chill, a feeling of the grave filling it. "Come forth, Warrior Djoser. You are called to service by a Valkyr." There's a distinct delay before a man with a shock of dark hair appears. He's … built - nicely - and in traditional Egyptian armour. "You called, Valkyr, I obey…" His eyes cut to Bast with a look disgust.
"There you are, Djoser. I need you to take this curse." Taht might explain to May how this will happen. Djoser … siiiiiiighs.
"Drink, little one, as Prince Loki, Princess Sigyn and I combine forces." May will *love* that.
The feeling of power rises as Bast starts to murmur, in a language long dead in this realm. Loki and Sigyn will feel when their power is needed to add to it, will feel as the curse on the collar starts to resist.
For May - apart from having to *drink* that concoction, it's not an all together pleasant experience either.
«I am an exceptional thief.» Loki sends with the mental equivalence of a smug grin, after all, he stole Sigyn!
"I know, right?" Loki has been a cat enough times to /know/ just how vile vinegar smells to them. The poppy extract is a lot more pleasant. Astryd is given a nod and upswept open hand - permission granted.
The look of disgust is a bit of a surprise from the rather fetching specimen of Egyptian manhood, okay, sure — he's DEAD, still built like a brick shithouse, so Loki can enjoy the view if he wants to! (He does)
Loki can't help but -grin- that the curse is being given to a dead guy, so that's something. "Well played." He murmurs in Ancient Egyptian, not Allspeak.
Reaching out with his magic, he links to both Sigyn and Bastet, ready to invoke his power when it is needed. He enjoys the team casting of the spell, but, he /loves/ magic. A lot.
Sigyn loves magic as much as Loki does. She doesn't just feed power into the spell, she does so with the deft touch of a mistress of the art, not too much to avoid the spell getting away from them. Not too little, the spell would fizzle. The right amount of power, the right flavor or power to suit each spell is not something most can sense, much less do on the fly. Sigyn has spent decades perfecting the most minute variations on her favorite spells, she has the knowledge and finesse for something like this.
May bobs her head and arches her whiskers forward in acknowledgement as Bast clarifies. There's more eye-squinting when the saucer is placed before her, and the man's appearance has her hackles spiking, but she manages to stay still and not hunch over defensively. When she's bid to drink, she does so without complaint, though not without flattening her ears and visibly shuddering at the initial flavor on top of the SMELL.
Quite quickly she starts feeling dizzy, like going straight from sober to drunk without the happy buzz in between. And there's…ohhh. Poppy seeds. Opiates. And beyond that, a decidedly … not good feeling, like being slowly garrotted with a wide silk scarf. Sideways.
Rather than sit up straight and proper again, she flops over to one side and lets the room spin and float and tilt around her. NOT a good trip, this one.
"This is not the first time I've had to break a curse." Bast responds to Loki before she turns her full attention to the spell. That might explain why Djoser wouldn't respond to her - who could blame him, after all?
The curse tugs and pulls on May as it resists the Cat Goddesses workings. Loki and Sigyn feel it resist, as thread ends of the spell are handed to them. The three of them have to untangle this and pass it to Djoser. This is not simple and … they can feel the danger in it. One slip … one misstep … the curse might become permanent or the spell backfire.
All the time, May can feel it tugging at her very being. It doesn't want to let go. With the poppy seed there may be no pain, but it's not comfortable. Not at all.
It's not every day that a large owl thumps and flaps muffled against the windows of one's apartment. Steve very nearly threw his coffee across the island countertop at the abrupt sound and even the goldfish, FUBAR and SNAFU, briefly flickered away into hiding within their recently-cleaned tank.
It turns out to be a scroll, a la something like Harry Potter, and the Captain admittedly ends up sighing at its contents. "…yeah, yeah, I'll come anyways," he mutters as he collects his motorcycle jacket and keys. Of course the scroll is stamped with a particular seal he recognizes and the book store only cements it: Loki's up to something, especially when it reads, 'Captain Rogers, if convenient, please come to Cover Story immediately. If inconvenient, come anyway.'
It's a crap shoot if anyone involved in the invocations hears the Harley motorcycle pull up and park beside the curb. After threading traffic for enough time to make him dearly wish he was anyone BUT Steve Rogers, the Captain then makes to enter the shop. Maybe people glance up when the bell rings.
Closing the door behind him, Steve then turns and as he does so, words die on his tongue. He now looks like he's seen a ghost — and he has, in a way, as well as what appears to be some ancient rite of absolute insanity involving Tortie-May and Loki and his wife and that one woman named Astryd and he was NOT PREPARED FOR THIS.
"— «Maithair De»?!" It's not English, but it is heartfelt, this sharp exclamation in Gaelic.
Somewhere, Barnes sighs.
Spinning, tilting, PULLING… it feels like her limbs and spine are being stretched like the visual effects from that old Werewolf in London movie, and May suspects that if it weren't for that nasty stuff Bast had her drink she'd be in some serious pain. This, this is more like having bones set and wounds stitched with only a local. Only over her entire body.
Perhaps it's luck or perhaps it was good planning on Bast's part, but May's back is to where Steve just came in and likely for the better as she starts visibly and wincingly slowly growing and shifting back from housecat to human. Fur is disappearing, and no. Cats don't wear clothes.
In truth Loki & Sigyn are both agape with the magicness, like, forever and a day. Further, they're both very well practiced at joint workings with each other, so the handing off of threads and the tugging and reweaving of the strands is not at all something that they've never done, just not with Bastet. That's new.
Now, the way the curse feels is /not/ such a good thing, it is clearly ancient and very powerful, and that tends to lend a curse a close semblance of sentience - of /true/ malice. Even more telling is that the Liesmith has a very malleable form - his form shifts a bit in counterpoint with every change from May.
This is not pleasant. Not insurmountable, just damned uncomforatable, and it makes his part of the spell crafting all that much harder.
Still, he got to send Steve a message Harry Potter style, he loves those books! They're so silly and wrong that they edge over into fun for him.
Curses are nasty things, but Sigyn does what she can to temper the nastiness. She certainly isn't going to let it latch on to her or Loki! Nor claim poor May's life. Still, Bast is leading the casting and Sigyn is careful not to get in her way. Roger's arrival is noted, but she's got her hands full with the curse breaking and is not going to spare any attention for Steve. Right now May needs her, and May is where her fous is.
It's just as Steve walks in, witnessing May in her full glory morphing back and forward between human and cat, that the threesome of Gods achieve their goal. The curse unravels, to the knot at the end - Bast deftly grasps all the threads and passes them to Djoser - who sighs, deeply, and starts tying them off as the Cat Goddess severs the knot.
The backlash isn't as great as it might have been - but that was a powerful curse - it whips about the room, hitting each and all present, except May. The majority of it lands on Steve though…
Steve can't seen the true breadth of the magic in action. If he could, he'd be further shellshocked into gape-mouthed silence. All he can see with his mortal eyes is the rapidly morphing form of May — which is almost nauseating in itself because joints shouldn't sound like that — and in flashes, the shifting of Loki's own form. Hands are gesturing and moving in esoteric shapes against the air; this is charged enough to raise the fine hairs on Steve's neck and make him take a step back.
But too late. He can feel the backwash of the curse slam into him like an unexpected wave at the beach. It soaks into his skin and sets his body on ice-fire. The Captain stumbles back and thumps to his keister on the store's floor, his skull bouncing off the closed front door. As he heaves out what sound like a growling whine and digs nails flickering blunt to sharp and back into the store's flooring, Glydril makes an appearance.
And she's pissed. Curling up into existence from Steve's back, the dragon lets out a plainly-threatening hiss with jaws full spread. Her forked tongue curls upon itself even as saliva strands cling between her scaled lips. Wings flap once and then mantle overtop the man still making sounds better left to car-hit dogs.
Something in him sings, clarion and clear, to the Valkyrie: a long rising crescendo of a soul still marked by the wild and the untamed, recognizing that which calls back to him.
And then it's abruptly over. May still feels like she's stuck on a bad trip, but… she feels air against her skin. That horrid vinegar SMELL is now just a normal vinegar smell. Sounds aren't overwhelming anymore. She's not a cat anymore. She's—
Wuh duh ma huh tah duh fong kwong duh wai shung SHE'S LYING ON A TABLE AND SHE'S NOT WEARING ANY CLOTHES.
And, she just really doesn't feel like moving. Like, the GOOD morphine kind of lassitude. Maybe she can just stay here for another minute or two. Then she'll try to get the hell up and find some clothes.
Yeah, no question that curses are nasty things. Loki is also careful to let Bast's hand guide the spell working - her portfolio is the one that has the strongest ties to the curse, after all. And then the curse is broken moments after Steve enters, and yes, Loki did notice the man, he DID key the defenses to let him in, after all.
The backwash actually feels nasty enough to get a grunt out of the Trickster god, and for a brief moment he resembles a man/cat fusion, before he resumes his birth form.
Oh, a dragon. A slavering dragon. In. Cover. Story.
He draws his beloved flaming sword and is prepared to defend his home when he realizes that May is starkers, okay, first he appreciates the view - because: Loki, THEN he weaves a garment for her, spinning illusions from moonbeams, and then tying off the strands of that working so they will last for a time. What you end up with is May dressed in traditional Japanese garb for a Samurai, sans armor, but fashioned of constantly shimmering moonbeams. Oh, and it glows a little bit.
CAP's state, draws a frown. "Are you alright, Captain?" He asks.
Sigyn's lips curl back almost in a snarl as she tells the magic NO. No, it will not change her. NO it will not hold on to her. NO… and the backlash hums around her. She is able to keep it at bay, but for Sigyn the effect is much like being inside a giant brass bell when it is hit with a hammer. She is almost overwhelmed by the pain, but manages to stay on her feet. And once her head clears a little, she shudders and moves closer to May to check on her.
Though as soon as she can slip away, she's going upstairs and taking a double dose of headache cure.
Maybe triple…
Bast gasps as the spell finishes, letting out a long slow breath. Djoser snarls, draws his sword and steps in front her as the Dragon appears. "That's …. not supposed to happen." she says, curiously looking at the dragon as it hovers. "Thank you, Prince Loki, Princess Sigyn. I trust all is well." A nice way of asking if they've side effects.
Glydril is pissed, smoke curling from her nose as she fights Steve for control. The super soldier can feel the call as it goes out to the tall stern blonde who's stepped over to May, putting herself between the Agent and that … man and Dragon. "I thought St George killed the last dragon." She says mildly. "And this would be the famous Captain America." beat "Tell your Dragon to desist and step forward…"
Oh. He's going to find that hard resist.
"Agent May, are you alright?" The blonde asks. May wouldn't know who the hell she was.
Glydril is no more at ease seeing the sudden appearance of the flaming sword. If anything, she drops her head and neck to enact a sinuous motion backwards as if readying herself for a viper-like strike in Loki's direction. Naked people mean nothing to her; she lives in skin as a spirit-tattoo as it stands.
She does balk after Astryd speaks, however. Steve manages to get a proper breath of air from where he works himself up to his hip and snarls out something in Gaelic again. His true-blue eyes snap. It was decidedly impromper if full of steel-spined command. With a final sputtering hiss as if to say 'AND YOUR MOM DRESSED YOU FUNNY AS A KID', she mists away into a swirling smoke. This sucks through Steve's motorcycle jacket to his skin and he lets out a shuddering groan as if someone had shoved a joint back into place. Then, moving as if recently recovered from a flu, he uses a nearby display table to make it fully to his feet.
"'m fine, Loki," he croaks even as he takes a few steps towards the Asgardian. Coin toss if he ends up stopping short because he either realized that May is now wearing moonbeam-clothing rather than her birthday suit or there's something eerie about how compelling the blonde warrior's voice was. Either way, Steve is the epitome of long-suffering patience strained. He looks between everyone present and wipes the back of his hand across one lightly-sweated temple. "Figure it's all done here now?"
Has it been three minutes yet? May HATES when her internal clock is not working right, and this is by far the worst. But time must have passed, she feels the clothing against her skin now. It feels like silk, but not silk, but…
Voices. Unfamiliar voices, and one that just said her name. "M'fine," she more slurs than mumbles, and forces herself to start trying to move, feeling a bit odd about resting a hand flat against the table. It's a bit akin to watching a newborn horse or giraffe foal starting to move for the first time.
Steve. That was Steve's voice. She tries to force her muddled mind to clear some, and at the same time shoves with her hands to try and sit up, and only succeeds in rolling off of the table and onto the floor.
"Go tsao de. ow."
That didn't hurt nearly as much as it probably should have, but still. Ow. She suspects she'll have bruises tomorrow.
Sigyn tries not to wince. So much shouting. Or maybe it is just her head. "I am well, Bast. Save for a bit of headache, but temporary pain is a small price to pay." She manages a wan smile. "Forgive me for being a terrible hostess, but I think I will take my leave."
Loki hasn't slain a dragon in -ages-! That could have been fun - though - in retrospect, they ARE in a room that is chock-a-bloc with flammables! So, maybe not so epic at that. He's quietly relieved not to have to fight the thing and then moves over to offer Steve a steadying arm as he rises so shakily. "Well enough, thank you for coming so swiftly, as you can see, Agent May is more herself again."
He moves over to the woman, and helps /her/ up, then watches as his wife departs to take her rest. "Triple." He suggests in regards to the pain potion.
He looks then to Bast. "So, the collar - did you wish to keep it?"
A smirk then curves his lips. "You have some business with Captain Rogers, Lady Astryd? Hopefully not Valkyrior business, I'd prefer not to have anyone chosen in my place of business this eve…"
Astryd looks at Steve, frowning. Oh, this isn't good but she doesn't have time to ponder it. With the dragon gone, Djoser stands down. "Let me send you back, Warrior. You've earned your rest this day."
All present will feel the touch of the grave as the Valkyr draws on her innate power. "Rest well, mighty warrior." Djoser disappears. "I don't believe so, Prince Loki."
"I think so. Will you take care of her? If you need help, call Loki, he'll know how to contact us." Us. Her and Bast.
Bast nods and takes the collar, watching Sigyn leave with a slight frown. "My best to your lady, Prince Loki. You best tend to her. Astryd and I will take our leave now. Come along Astryd and stop staring at that fine specimen of a man…"
Astryd laughs, giving Steve one last look as she and the Cat Goddess depart.
Steve may well have the feeling he's not seen the last of her yet.
"Wait," May manages, even though Loki's supporting more of her weight than her own legs are at the moment. "The bell." Once she gets it back from the collar she looks at Bast and nods her head as respectfully as she can manage.
"Thank you, Bastet."
She has multiple people to extend her thanks to. Once she feels back to normal, though. Right now she feels like Inigo in the Thieves' Forest, and she suspects soup and buckets of water aren't goign to help.