[ Hopefully, he isn't going to be given a nasty look or comment at him trying to take anything from Olympus. Even if he's been let in, he's also aware he isn't allowed the same freedoms as everyone else. Still, he said what he said; he'll get that flower for him. ]
[Namely, trying to stop the bleeding. Luckily gods are very sturdy, and Olympians even sturdier, but Hermes does not appreciate being grounded while he handles this.]
dreamwidth really went, i don't want anyone to be able to make tags
[ It isn't as snide a comment as he would give to his sister or even the Flame Thief. Hermes has earned the right to hear something like concern; something like softness from him.
Of course, those "soft" feelings are mangled and barely recognizable in him, but he still is able to catch the shadow of them when he talks to some people. ]
[Hermes recognizes the tenderness for what it is, and dutifully doesn't acknowledge it. He knows his brother struggles showing that kind of thing, and struggles even more acknowledging it for what it is. He doesn't think that Heracles is as broken as he clearly believes himself to be--just bitter and hardened from circumstance.]
I'll be careful, promise.
[He's just going to press an old blanket against the injury to slow the bleeding down. Luckily, he doesn't have to worry about things like infections. But this will be easier once Heracles is there with the iris.]
[ The iris isn't as difficult as he thought it would be to get. Too much going on for people to worry what he's doing - he shows up, smashes in a few heads of shades, and leaves one flower richer.
Perhaps, if things weren't so chaotic, he would be stopped and questioned. He doesn't take the time to think about it as he heads to where Hermes says he is - each leap crossing unfathomable amount of distance.
It's falling with style to where he needs to go, anyway.
And so with a loud thump, he arrives. ]
Got your flower. You still breathing? [ His steps are hurried even if his words are not. ]
[Hermes hears the loud thump. He's curled up in an old arm chair, pressing a blanket up against his injury. The floor looks like someone's gone through to paint gold leaf on it with all the ichor, and Hermes' bag sits next to his chair, Chellen turning her head to examine her person.
The injury is the sort that would have killed a human within seconds. It's a large slice straight through his side, the sort that could spill organs out of the body. But here he is, tutting like he's been mildly inconvenienced, and he smiles at Heracles with wings fluffing as he arrives. And when he speaks, it's with his usual chipper, breezy charm.]
Still breathing! Lucky I'm sturdy. [He reaches into his bag, careful not to aggravate the injury, and pulls a bottle of Nectar from it. One of the bottles that M had given him, sweet girl she is.] Would you put the flower in here? M taught me some beginner magic for this sort of thing.
[ Clicking his tongue as soon as he arrives, his eyes drift down to the blood before assessing the damage. It makes him glad that Hermes is a god instead of anything else -- he isn't even sure some of the monsters he's fought would've survived what happened.
In his empty hand, he clenches his fist tight. He wishes Olympus would send him to fight Cronos, but he understands their concerns. The Flame Thief's already working with him - so they must worry what would happen if he joined them. Funny since he already intends to join them every so often.
He breathes out another sigh; it sounds irritated. Caring but not trying to be too soft about it. But he does keep staring at the slash -- the area around one eye twitching in anger. Coming closer, he takes the bottle to place the iris inside. ]
[Hermes' bread and butter as a spymaster and trickster is knowing how to read people. Heracles is a man of few words, and a man who bristles at vulnerability for good reason. So that makes his actions and body language louder. And despite Hermes' breezy mannerisms, he cares a little too hard about family, especially family born into messes they never asked for.
Hermes' wings relax against his head. He makes a show of flicking one wing a little, as if to put a feather back in place. He's definitely hurting, but he'll feign less pain than he's actually feeling to put his little brother's worries to rest.]
A shake and... oh, what was it? Askion--oh right, just shake, I'll do it. [He holds up a hand, and as the nectar is shaking, he says the phrase M taught him--askion ataski.
The nectar changes color, turning an iridescent rainbow, swirls of color spinning with every motion of the liquid.]
Oh good, good. Would please just pour that on the injury?
[ There still is no bite in his words. But he readily takes the bottle. Another small sigh as he kneels down to carefully pour the concoction over the injury. Could Hermes actually die? He's a god - so probably not. But the rules they've all been playing by have started to change.
He hmphs underneath his breath once more. ]
This means you'll be staying out of that pit from now on, right? Gonna leave that to our sister to deal with? I'm not gonna be nice and help you out more than once, you know.
[ It's all grumbling; it's all for show. He'll help him out again if asked, because he's helped him out more times than he can count. ]
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no subject
Brother, you make me sigh.
Very well. I'll get an iris for you, too.
[ Hopefully, he isn't going to be given a nasty look or comment at him trying to take anything from Olympus. Even if he's been let in, he's also aware he isn't allowed the same freedoms as everyone else. Still, he said what he said; he'll get that flower for him. ]
dreamwidth really went, i don't want anyone to be able to make tags
[ It isn't as snide a comment as he would give to his sister or even the Flame Thief. Hermes has earned the right to hear something like concern; something like softness from him.
Of course, those "soft" feelings are mangled and barely recognizable in him, but he still is able to catch the shadow of them when he talks to some people. ]
think it is a cloudflare problem :(
Perhaps, if things weren't so chaotic, he would be stopped and questioned. He doesn't take the time to think about it as he heads to where Hermes says he is - each leap crossing unfathomable amount of distance.
It's falling with style to where he needs to go, anyway.
And so with a loud thump, he arrives. ]
Got your flower. You still breathing? [ His steps are hurried even if his words are not. ]
sorry - so much happened
In his empty hand, he clenches his fist tight. He wishes Olympus would send him to fight Cronos, but he understands their concerns. The Flame Thief's already working with him - so they must worry what would happen if he joined them. Funny since he already intends to join them every so often.
He breathes out another sigh; it sounds irritated. Caring but not trying to be too soft about it. But he does keep staring at the slash -- the area around one eye twitching in anger. Coming closer, he takes the bottle to place the iris inside. ]
Did the witch say it needs a shake or something?
no subject
[ There still is no bite in his words. But he readily takes the bottle. Another small sigh as he kneels down to carefully pour the concoction over the injury. Could Hermes actually die? He's a god - so probably not. But the rules they've all been playing by have started to change.
He hmphs underneath his breath once more. ]
This means you'll be staying out of that pit from now on, right? Gonna leave that to our sister to deal with? I'm not gonna be nice and help you out more than once, you know.
[ It's all grumbling; it's all for show. He'll help him out again if asked, because he's helped him out more times than he can count. ]