milliways_bar | (no subject)

[ooc: Pokes to Sands/Mal thread]

[ooc: ooooh, is Mal about? I'd love to send a Dworkin your way.]

[ooc: Points down, ignoring lack of linkage to Mal/Sands returning after giant fight. She's rather ~~dying~~ broken at the moment.]

[ooc: both tagged up, yay, because irresistable wacky fun. Do you have aim or, could you email underwater.owl@gmail.com? What with there being Dworkin and blood in the same thread we should probably be talking]

It's Gorlim.

Somewhere under the stinking spider blood, the blood that's more obviously HIS, the mud, leaves, white silky fibres, tangled mess of hair, it really is Gorlim, glowing triumphantly and looking like he wants to kiss Random, he's so happy to see him.

"You're back!" he observes insightfully.

"You're dead!" he exclaims in, well, panic is a fair word for it. And then leaps to his feet and, while pulling him into a hug with one arm sets about picking silk off him and trying to wipe inneffectually at the mess.

"Shit. Gorlim. Sit down!"

Gorlim has never been happier to obey, but Random gets tugged with him, and pulled into a hug like a deathgrip.

"I'm fine," he says, "or will be. I won this time."

"Thank fucking God."

Pause.

"When you're clean you can tell me what you lost before. But only then. Do you want something to eat?"

A rat is already flagged down, and water ordered.

Gorlim shakes his head. His movements are a bit jerky, the aftereffects of adrenaline wearing off now.

"Random. Your cards. There's one with swords. Ten of them. In his back. He's here. He looks like me. EXACTLY like me. He likes to impersonate me. He's called Ruin. Don't look for him."

"The Ten of Swords, yes, I..."

Pause.

"Why the hell not?"

"Because if you go looking for your own ruin, it doesn't work," he answers vaguely. "Bad thing to do. Don't. Also Sands' gun is with Bar. I told her to let you take it if you want, you'd know what to do with it."

He sounds a bit like he's had too much caffeine.

Or spiders.

"Right."

French fries are ordered, because they seem to be needed.

If it weren't for things, he would. But. Children. Child.
Shit, it grates though.

"Tell the fucker if he comes near you again I'm taking a lit match to him so help me God. Although you probably tried that."

"He's got some nights left." Gorlim pauses, and counts on his fingers. "Eleven."

His wrists are bruised in a way that suggests someone might have handcuffed him a little too tight.

There is a bandaged wound beneath the cloth on his shoulder.

"I made a deal," he explains.

"Lean back."

The returning rat is relieved of its burdens, and Random pushes the fries towards him before grabbing the wash cloth and dabbing at his face with it, trying to get the blood off.

"MMPH!"

Gorlim chews the fries, suddenly realizing how hungry he is, and puts up with the towel.

"Sands," he mumbles between mouthfuls of fries, "is a fucking nitwit. I'll have you know he does nasty things with guns. If I see him pissing Ramon off again, I might have to do them back. You get fair warning, cuz Ramon says you like him."

He grabs more fries.

"I do. He reminds me of me" he says with a smirk, dabbing more at the blood.

"And you have my blessing to do non-fatal, non-permanent things. Not the smartest of boys."

"He's fatal," Gorlim grumbles.

Random, meet the warrior side of scarecrow-boy.

"How've you been?" he asks, in a moment of relative lucidity.

"Busy."

He doesn't ask 'you?'

Answer's obvious.

"And just try, mmkay? Keep eating."

Gorlim nods and grabs more fries.

"Missed you."

As if it wasn't obvious.

"Kid okay?"

"Perfect."

As always.

"Still eats like a vacuum cleaner. How's Kelly?"

"Good. Gabriel, too. Do you know Gabriel?"

He can't remember.

Brain still wrinkled as the month-old blouse at the bottom of the laundry pile.

"I don't know Gabriel."

He pushes the plate forwards again.

"Who is he?"

"My son."

More fries are yoinked. He doesn't argue as long as Random keeps reminding him.

"Namo's really, and Nerdanel's. But I get to help raise him. My son." GRIN.

"Oh wow."

Random smiles at him, with a kind of shared understanding.

"Wow, love. 's good."

He nods.

"Baby. Teeny." More with the grinning. "Perfect. Red hair."

Eventually he'll come up with a complete sentence.

Before Random does?

All he's done so far is beam.

And then affectionately tug at Gorlim's, rather tangled, hair.

He can deal with that.

He tilts his head into Random's shoulder.

"Missed you."

"And I you."

A brush is created, not summoned, and he slowly, tentatively, sets to work because ow.

"Terribly. Now don't fidget, kay?"

"Uh-huh."

But he does. Just a bit. Because he's GORLIM and he can't NOT and Random's shirt is convenient. He just tugs it back and forth between his fingers along the hem seam, thrice one way, thrice the other.

He might sniffle a little.

It's the spider-blood.

Really.

Really.

Random begins to hum softly as he continues brushing.

"Ruin. Are you sure you don't want me to find him?"

Seen and drawn his own conclusions, perhaps, but he'll leave it to Gorlim.

"Would you like to come and stay for a little?"

"I'm sure. He wouldn't like you."

To the shellshocked mind, it occurs that a fight between a card-caster and a tarot incarnation could be fascinating.

It also might cause the universe to end. REALLY end.

So the small functioning part of his brain shuts him up and does not mention anything more about Ruin. Except...

"Namo's taking care. He's lots of help. Big power god thing."

"Good."

His hand lingers on his pocket.

"If he needs a deck with a little more, erm, 'ooomph' to it than a normal set then use your Moon, okay? And don't hesitate, as usual, to trump out. The little ball of shit won't be able to touch my Majors."

Gorlim nods, then sits up a little.

"Moon's here! I met her. She read cards for me. She's pretty. I told her I was your Moon." He grins. "She said about Ruin that I can pick a new card. That's all right. I won." Babbling, but happy. "And the kid's safe. There's a spell... thingy. I asked. Ruin cannot find him. Or you."

After a moment to decipher, he smiles, and inclines his head, continuing to brush.

"My thanks, then. I'll look for Moon."

But not Ruin. A promise to be kept.

Gorlim leans against him and keeps playing with the hem of his shirt.

Smells like Random. His voice. His touch. Best friend.

He's safe here.

Yes, he is.

If only he could stay.

But.

"The hour is late. Come to Haven? Just for tonight?"

Gorlim nods. Vehemently.

"Let me get cleaned up first? Namo will want to see me. He knows I'd gone tonight. He'll be worried."

"Trump through."

He hands him the brush, gently steers him upright, then stands.

"I'll be waiting."

"All right." Gorlim takes the brush. "Thank you. For the fries and... stuff. I'll be along in a bit."

"I'll see you then."

One last ruffle to Gorlim's hair, and Random heads for the door.