He was leaning against the doorframe with half a sandwich in his mouth, wearing a shirt he'd pulled from the nearest pile and pants that were clearly the first thing his fingers found instead of having put any thought into his fashion.
The silence was unanimous.
"No," Aria said.
"Absolutely not," Nyx agreed.
"Darling, what is that shirt," Calypso said. It was not a question.
They descended on him.
Aria took point, pulling the sandwich from his mouth and handing it to Alexandra.
"There's really no need-"
Every pair of eyes in the room turned on him at once, and whatever he'd been about to say didn't survive the experience. He raised both hands in surrender.
Bastet circled him, tail flicking, evaluating cuts and fabrics with an intensity she usually reserved for skirt hems.
Nyx ran her fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead, then tilted her head and messed it up in a different direction.
