OOM post: Asar-Suti finds Gil in his world
By now, Asar-Suti thought, he'd be allowed to go and see what happened with Gil, and Gil's world, without history getting blasted apart from the interference of some otherworldly deity into earth-shattering events.
Or something.
He opened the door on a grey void, and stuck in a toe, slipping between worlds, finding his way sideways and backwards the way he always used to be, with a whiff of bright volcanic purple and a hint of the old pit --
-- and then, he was in a garden.
A herb garden in late autumn, a sky as lovely as inconstant, bare trees and hedgerows and hills and the tickle of magic. A world that was whole, cleansed, and without the sense of brooding evil and tightening oppression it had had before.
"Gil?" he called softly, feeling silly. He saw no faun, just some creature nearby, hunting something small, but very much not a cat mousing.
The golden brown ferret shaped beast cocked its ears and sat up on its haunches, long body swaying. It looked him over, beady black eyes bright, then said, "Piss off, shorty!" and thumped its forepaws on the ground and bounced away into a bed of lavender.
"Shorty yourself," Asar-Suti said, pleasantly, following the creature into the herb beds. "Hello?" he then called. "Is anybody here?"
This was a tended garden, not a wilderness. Somebody should be here, not just a rude ferret calling him names.
Gil, dressed warmly for the windy day in a woollen robe over his flannel shirt, cord pants and wellies, was on his knees cutting back the old stems of raspberries to give next years fruiting growth room to thrive. He chuckled as the jarvey leaped into his lap and nuzzled his chin.
"What's the matter, Quentin?" he asked. "Want a cuddle."
"Fuggin, squinty-eyed, little trespassers," Quentin grumbled, curling up and butting his head against Gil's stomach. "Make 'im go away. Never liked purkle."
Gil laughed, gathering his pet up, and rubbed its belly. "Purkle, what's purkle?" he said.
"HE'S purkle!" the jarvey said, resting its chin on Gil's shoulder and glaring at the stranger who was approaching.
"That critter's as cute as it's foul-mouthed," Asar-Suti said, stepping around the berry bushes. "Hello Gil!" The voice was unmistakeable, as were the horns.
Gil turned his head, mouth opening and gave a chuckle. "Well hello," he said. "How on earth did you get here?"
"Stepped between worlds, the way I used to," Asar-Suti said, coming closer. "I thought it had to be over now, and safe for me to come. You look well!"
He squatted down beside Gil, and kissed his cheek. "I missed you! I hope I didn't make you wait long."
Gil smiled and stroked Quentin who was grumbling again. "I've been here nearly a year and a half," he said. "That's why I didn't think when Quentin talked about purple."
"Can I touch him, or will he bite?" Asar-Suti asked. "I'm sorry -- I sort of had to aim roughly so I wouldn't turn up before things were over. I'm really glad your world and you made it."
"He won't bite but he might cuss a bit," Gil warned. "Yes, it was touch and go there for a while. I don't know what really happened. Not sure if anyone does. We just went where we were told to go and tossed charms about until we were told to stop." No need to tell Suti everything that had happened. "The department had a formal thank you from the Ministry. We may not have actually made much difference militarily but we certainly made a good distraction."
Quentin was eying Asar Suti suspiciously, ears flat and sharp little teeth showing.
"Be nice, now," Gil murmured.
"Arse," Quentin said but closed his mouth and sniffed Asar Suti's hand.
It was still purple-ish, of course. "Hello, Quentin!" Asar-Suti said. "Nice to meet you. I've lived in the strangest place in the multiverse for almost five years, but I've never met a talking ferret before."
"He's a jarvey," Gil said. "Sort of - ferret plus. Mainly plus attitude and the vocabulary of a nine year old."
"Bum," Quentin said and wriggled over Gil's shoulder like a furry golden snake and bounced off to hunt mice. Freed of the encumbrance Gil turned round properly and smiled at Asar Suti.
"Can you stay for a while?" he asked.
"Yes, I can, of course!" Asar-Suti said. "Milliways' not the same without you. It's become really boring. Werewolves and vampires have high drama. People read books and drink drinks. There's lots of sex going on upstairs. The usual. It makes me yawn, and miss my faun."
"Doesn't sound any different," Gil said. "How long have I been gone?"
"You went in June, and it's October now," Asar-Suti said, leaning over to kiss Gil properly. "I was totally fed up, though, because there was no Gil to make it all bearable. I think I'd rather be with you than be there, and rather sit in a garden than be a powerful god."
Gil turned his head a little to catch the kiss on his cheek again. Kissing Asar Suti, kissing him 'properly', if it happened, should be more than punctuation in mid sentence. Four months for Asar Suti well loved and popular, seventeen months for Gil, unkissed apart from his mother. Kisses - 'proper' kisses - mattered and should be treated with respect.
"To sit in a garden," he said, picking up his secateurs again. "You can do that here if you wish, but I'm afraid that, once again, I will be too busy to sit with you apart from a couple of times a day."
He got up, slipped the secateurs into his pocket and picked up the bag of clippings. "Have you brought your baggage?" he asked.
"Just a few things," Asar-Suti said. "I can conjure everything else that I want. And I can pull my own weight here, too -- you know me! If you'll have me, I, erm, would sort of stay?"
Gil smiled. "We'll be pleased to have you," he said. "Won't we Quentin?"
"Bollocks," came the faint reply from the lavender patch and Gil chuckled.
"I think he likes you," he said. "Come on, I'll show you the house and your room."
"You have one ready for me?" Asar-Suti says, astonished. "Ahhh, Gil! I'm sorry I made you wait so long."
Gil looked down at the bag of raspberry clippings and shook his head, smiling. "No, Suti," he said. "I didn't know I was waiting, you see. I thought I was living."
"You were," Asar-Suti said, a bit chastened. "It's not all about me after all. I guess I still have an ego like a god. Let's go in, shall we?"
"We'll go in, dear friend," Gil said, his smile calm, his eyes loving, "and have coffee and pain au chocolate - because while much has changed, that hasn't. I am still a very excellent cook."
Asar-Suti followed, smiling. Pain au chocolat! It was what they had met over, almost five years ago by his own count, and much longer by Gil's. Other couples had special songs, they had special food. Some things did remain the same!
Or something.
He opened the door on a grey void, and stuck in a toe, slipping between worlds, finding his way sideways and backwards the way he always used to be, with a whiff of bright volcanic purple and a hint of the old pit --
-- and then, he was in a garden.
A herb garden in late autumn, a sky as lovely as inconstant, bare trees and hedgerows and hills and the tickle of magic. A world that was whole, cleansed, and without the sense of brooding evil and tightening oppression it had had before.
"Gil?" he called softly, feeling silly. He saw no faun, just some creature nearby, hunting something small, but very much not a cat mousing.
The golden brown ferret shaped beast cocked its ears and sat up on its haunches, long body swaying. It looked him over, beady black eyes bright, then said, "Piss off, shorty!" and thumped its forepaws on the ground and bounced away into a bed of lavender.
"Shorty yourself," Asar-Suti said, pleasantly, following the creature into the herb beds. "Hello?" he then called. "Is anybody here?"
This was a tended garden, not a wilderness. Somebody should be here, not just a rude ferret calling him names.
Gil, dressed warmly for the windy day in a woollen robe over his flannel shirt, cord pants and wellies, was on his knees cutting back the old stems of raspberries to give next years fruiting growth room to thrive. He chuckled as the jarvey leaped into his lap and nuzzled his chin.
"What's the matter, Quentin?" he asked. "Want a cuddle."
"Fuggin, squinty-eyed, little trespassers," Quentin grumbled, curling up and butting his head against Gil's stomach. "Make 'im go away. Never liked purkle."
Gil laughed, gathering his pet up, and rubbed its belly. "Purkle, what's purkle?" he said.
"HE'S purkle!" the jarvey said, resting its chin on Gil's shoulder and glaring at the stranger who was approaching.
"That critter's as cute as it's foul-mouthed," Asar-Suti said, stepping around the berry bushes. "Hello Gil!" The voice was unmistakeable, as were the horns.
Gil turned his head, mouth opening and gave a chuckle. "Well hello," he said. "How on earth did you get here?"
"Stepped between worlds, the way I used to," Asar-Suti said, coming closer. "I thought it had to be over now, and safe for me to come. You look well!"
He squatted down beside Gil, and kissed his cheek. "I missed you! I hope I didn't make you wait long."
Gil smiled and stroked Quentin who was grumbling again. "I've been here nearly a year and a half," he said. "That's why I didn't think when Quentin talked about purple."
"Can I touch him, or will he bite?" Asar-Suti asked. "I'm sorry -- I sort of had to aim roughly so I wouldn't turn up before things were over. I'm really glad your world and you made it."
"He won't bite but he might cuss a bit," Gil warned. "Yes, it was touch and go there for a while. I don't know what really happened. Not sure if anyone does. We just went where we were told to go and tossed charms about until we were told to stop." No need to tell Suti everything that had happened. "The department had a formal thank you from the Ministry. We may not have actually made much difference militarily but we certainly made a good distraction."
Quentin was eying Asar Suti suspiciously, ears flat and sharp little teeth showing.
"Be nice, now," Gil murmured.
"Arse," Quentin said but closed his mouth and sniffed Asar Suti's hand.
It was still purple-ish, of course. "Hello, Quentin!" Asar-Suti said. "Nice to meet you. I've lived in the strangest place in the multiverse for almost five years, but I've never met a talking ferret before."
"He's a jarvey," Gil said. "Sort of - ferret plus. Mainly plus attitude and the vocabulary of a nine year old."
"Bum," Quentin said and wriggled over Gil's shoulder like a furry golden snake and bounced off to hunt mice. Freed of the encumbrance Gil turned round properly and smiled at Asar Suti.
"Can you stay for a while?" he asked.
"Yes, I can, of course!" Asar-Suti said. "Milliways' not the same without you. It's become really boring. Werewolves and vampires have high drama. People read books and drink drinks. There's lots of sex going on upstairs. The usual. It makes me yawn, and miss my faun."
"Doesn't sound any different," Gil said. "How long have I been gone?"
"You went in June, and it's October now," Asar-Suti said, leaning over to kiss Gil properly. "I was totally fed up, though, because there was no Gil to make it all bearable. I think I'd rather be with you than be there, and rather sit in a garden than be a powerful god."
Gil turned his head a little to catch the kiss on his cheek again. Kissing Asar Suti, kissing him 'properly', if it happened, should be more than punctuation in mid sentence. Four months for Asar Suti well loved and popular, seventeen months for Gil, unkissed apart from his mother. Kisses - 'proper' kisses - mattered and should be treated with respect.
"To sit in a garden," he said, picking up his secateurs again. "You can do that here if you wish, but I'm afraid that, once again, I will be too busy to sit with you apart from a couple of times a day."
He got up, slipped the secateurs into his pocket and picked up the bag of clippings. "Have you brought your baggage?" he asked.
"Just a few things," Asar-Suti said. "I can conjure everything else that I want. And I can pull my own weight here, too -- you know me! If you'll have me, I, erm, would sort of stay?"
Gil smiled. "We'll be pleased to have you," he said. "Won't we Quentin?"
"Bollocks," came the faint reply from the lavender patch and Gil chuckled.
"I think he likes you," he said. "Come on, I'll show you the house and your room."
"You have one ready for me?" Asar-Suti says, astonished. "Ahhh, Gil! I'm sorry I made you wait so long."
Gil looked down at the bag of raspberry clippings and shook his head, smiling. "No, Suti," he said. "I didn't know I was waiting, you see. I thought I was living."
"You were," Asar-Suti said, a bit chastened. "It's not all about me after all. I guess I still have an ego like a god. Let's go in, shall we?"
"We'll go in, dear friend," Gil said, his smile calm, his eyes loving, "and have coffee and pain au chocolate - because while much has changed, that hasn't. I am still a very excellent cook."
Asar-Suti followed, smiling. Pain au chocolat! It was what they had met over, almost five years ago by his own count, and much longer by Gil's. Other couples had special songs, they had special food. Some things did remain the same!