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[8th_castellan]

Ramon, while having come to terms long ago with the thought of being a father, is still finding it hard to adapt to the wild changes his wife is going through. The mood swings were nearly comical sometimes in how sudden and violent they were, her self-esteem was becoming inversely proportionate to her waistline, and all of his time was spent mainly

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[h_hollister]

Hope is a glorious, golden fuel for the ages. Hold on to that hope, Ramon, and much good may it do you.

"Ramooooooon!"

He should well be used to that tone by now, and she'd loathe herself if she heard it outside of her own head. It's the petulant tone of the perpetually bored, a fitful and pervasive whine that echoes just right off the stone walls. She cannot help it; with nothing to do except read, play on the internet and occasionally do some cross stitching, Hippolyta has come to rely almost entirely on Ramon to brighten up her day. The whine is a demand on him, and it's an unconscious one at that. A sort of an unspoken, "YOU DID THIS TO ME YOU BASTARD!"

[8th_castellan]

He does feel that weird, creeping guilt in that tone. Which goes to show how well she has the boy whipped at this point, as most normal men would have their teeth on edge hearing that tone from their beloved through most of the day.

But no. Instead of growling cuss words to himself like any sensible person would do, he gives a reply as he comes down the hall towards the room she's taken residence in until their baby's birth. "Coming!"

And come he does, scurrying down that hall at a slightly faster clip. He'll see what she wants and then attempt the sneaking off with the laptop. Because that's a flawless plan.

[h_hollister]

Yes, well, if she's got him whipped, he's the one who handed the whip to her in the first place. Besides, this could be considered pay-back for all the times she's had to take care of him. Revenge is a bitter fruit.

She's laying on her left side, her hair a darker blonde than usual. The effects of being indoors and major hormonal shifts have ruined the honey blonde, and in its place is something almost edging on brunette at the roots. Her breasts are ridiculously huge under her nightshirt. They're also sagging in a race to her knees. It's a damn good thing her enormous belly is in the way, keeping them up where they're supposed to be. She's only dressed in that nightshirt, too, her bare legs on top of the blanket. But the bed is not made; she's constantly adjusting herself, pulling on the covers when she gets too cold, kicking them off when she starts sweating. She's also surrounded by the detritus of a month in bed. Empty and full water bottles, medications, food, books and magazines, all within easy reach

[8th_castellan]

"Hola." He gives a small smile and a wave, lingering in the doorway to do so before crossing the remainder of the room to be at her bedside.

"What do you need, dearest?" Ramon asks gently, rubbing one hand up and down her nearest thigh. It's considerably more squishy these days compared to before she was pregnant, but isn't that to be expected at this point?

[h_hollister]

"Oh, for fuck's sake..."

She angrily yanks the blankets up over her legs and stomach as Ramon's doing up his fly again. Since she's dressed only in her nightshirt, Sharpe probably got an eyeful of HER as well. Big, fat, pregnant her. Damn it.

"Sharpe, if this is anything less than Umbrella turning Des Moines into a George Romero movie, you can buzz right off."

Oh, the seething, glaring hatred.

[corporation_s]

He'll get over it. That's probably on Sharpe's resumé somewhere. 'Hard to fluster with nudity of any variety.' Hard to fluster, period.

"It involves people being turned into something," is the drawled response, Sharpe finally turning his eyes back towards the two on the bed, now that Hips is covered and Ramon isn't making as much noise, indicating that things are tucked back in place and firmly zipped up.

"You may or may not be aware of the mysterious, encroaching scourge that's turned up worldwide. Namely, that of people turning into trees. The only place the news has reported on thus far is British Columbia, but other reports have been coming in from the United States, Brazil, Germany, Russia, the UK, Greenland...This is obviously not an isolated incident.

"Mr. Salazar, as our agent best equipped for handling Nexus-related incidents, I'm dispatching you immediately to go and investigate the multiversal possibilities that could be bringing this about, should the multiverse be at fault here."

[h_hollister]

The words Ramon spoke earlier are now deeply ironic. 'As long as it doesn't affect us...' Jeezus. It's like somebody's watching and laughing.

Oh, right. S was watching. Laughing, probably not, but you never knew.

She reaches over and takes Ramon's hand, clutching it out of some sense of irrational fear. She never likes it when he's sent away from her to try and save the world, no matter what exactly is going on. She always has the feeling that he's not going to come back.

[8th_castellan]

He gives her fingers a short, reassuring squeeze in response, though his eyes don't leave the suit-clad figure standing in the room now.

"...All right. And I go immediately, I take it?" The curt nod in response to that makes Ramon sigh and finally turns to give his wife an apologetic look.