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There was a slightly violet deity by the fireplace, wearing a warm and brightly purple sweater, drinking a hot beverage almost totally but not quite entirely unlike chocolate from a violet mug, and reading a supernatural detective novel the cover of which was black and lurid purple.

Shortly before Christmas, Asar-Suti remembered last year and went for creature comforts.

[[OOC: Plot-locked to Námo and/or Nerdanel, and Gil. Say sorry!]]

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"Or lace and leather," Gil suggests, with a lift of the eyebrow.

"I'm sure you'd look very lovely in that," Asar-Suti said, with a smile.

In fact, he found Gil very lovely in any clothes or shape. But the appeal of a stiped apron tied around a faun midriff, with a little tail sticking out behind, would be lost on most people...

Gil chuckled. "You'd look better, and anyhow I like you Ihlini gear. It's like complicated gift wrap with too much sellotape - I really work up and interest while I'm getting down to the skin. Plus," he nods, "it looks good."

Asar-Suti giggled, and held out his hand for Gil. "Sit with me a bit?" he offered. "Well, then it'll be the Ihlini robes and furs, the black and purple silks and velvets, to give you something to unwrap later. By the way, how are the lebkuchens?"

"The ones that are left are just fine," Gil said, fitting his behind into the chair beside Sooty's. He put the jug down, drew his wand and summoned the orange tin with sooty's name on it. He had refilled it this morning and, to be honset, quite fancied a lebkuchen himself.

"I am sure they miss their companions and wish to join them," Asar-Suti grinned, opening the orange tin.

"They smell delicious - want one as well?"

"Mmm - please, if you can spare one," Gil said, because Sooty's capacity for lebkuchen was awe inspiring. Gil took two, just cuz, and leaned back in the chair munching happily on one, the second frosted crescent between his fingers.

"Solstice Wednesday," he said. "Think I might go and light a fire down by the lake."

"Would you have me along, or am I too un-organic a deity for that very earthy festival," Asar-Suti asked.

He wouldn't really mind; vegetation festivals were so Cheysuli, after the standards of his world. On the other hand, even Cheysuli felt very familiar in the constant fount of strangeness that was Miliways Bar.

"Feel free," Gil said. "All I'll be doing is keeping it going and having the odd nip to keep out the cold. Probably won't go to bed though. Keep the fire going all through the night. Not even sure why other than that's what Dad always did."

"If that is how you do it, I'll be along and help you. I suppose a little flask with usca in wouldn't come amiss in the coldest part of the night, too," Asar-Suti said.

He nibbled a lebkuchen, sighed, and looked at Gil a bit guiltily. Well, not guilty as such, but expecting a displeased reaction. "Something else is going to happen that night as well."

"Oh, whassat?" Gil asked, cocking his head. He knew that look all to well and wondered what harebrained scheme Sooty had signed up for now.

"I spoke to Námo just now. Seems Nerdanel has gone and offered him what he'd originally asked," Asar-Suti said, trying to sound neutral. "They're going to do that on the 21st as well."

He expected Gil to have a mild conniption fit now at the silliness of people in general and elves and gods in particular.

"Well as long as she's offering," Gil said. "Offering's different. It was the element of coercion that made me want to go and kick Namo's divine patoosh."

he grinned at the thought. "And while Nerdanel's in an offering mood what about us? Eh? Fine figure of an elfess that Nerdanel and I've always liked big redheads."

"I think they are doing that purely for procreation; Námo was terribly nervous about, erm, how he'd get to do the deed. Nervous for a Vala, that is. I fear we're not going to get lucky for mere fun reasons," Asar-Suti said, sadly.

"Fun reasons - so all that business with Gorlim was - um - what?" Gil asked. "If they only do it to breed - lordy what a sterile existence. Unless they truly do just get off on the stuff they make with their hands. Come to that," Gil said, philosophically, "I made a sachertorte last month that, sorry Sooty, was better than sex by a long streak - and lasted longer too."

Asar-Suti stuck out his tongue and giggled. "Nah, it's that thing with Námo and Nerdanel in particular; they're nto exactly keen on each other. Luckily, elves can control conception, so they need to do this only once. And afterwards, Námo will curl up with Gorlim and/or Lee, I suppose. How about I ask Nerdanel to come to our fire when they're done?"

"Good idea, Sooty," Gil agreed. "We can teach her to comfort snuggle, even if there's no possibility of any follow-through."

"I'll conjure blankets, and we can snuggle by the solstice fire - that'll cheer her up," Asar-Suti said.

Well, he didn't believe in any follow-through, but would, astonishingly, not say no if it happened. Somebody should warn him about elvish customs, though...

Elvish customs - hah, Gil laughs in their face, faun customs being far friendlier and much less worthy, being based around a terrible fear of sensory deprivation.

"I'll get a stock of firewood and some marshmallows then," gil suggests."

"That sounds very good," Aar-Suti said, hugging Gil. "Poor Nerdanel will probably like something sweet and sqishy to nibble by then. I'll bring the warming drinks, but perhaps if we could have a jug of cocoa along as well? To dip the marshmallows in, the way Strahan does it. Did I tell you about him, by the way?"

"Quasi-chocolate," Gil said. "i knew it would come in handy. And no you didn't. What's he done now?"

"Told him about us in so many word - Strahan can be a bit slow at times. I made some remark (http://www.livejournal.com/community/milliways_bar/9857662.html?thread=410201470#t410201470) about me not getting any from you if I allowed him to chase rats, and he thought I meant food, the poor thing, so I had to explain. You won't believe what he smelled like at that - we were being maned wolves at the time, so that was our primary sense - the very picture of rejection. Why does his god have somebody he cares about, beside himself, and why doesn't he have someone? So if you see a very dejected maned wolf staring at you and following you around unhappily one of these days, don't worry, it'll be only Strahan wondering why you."

"Well, he's not the only one," Gil said. "Poor guy. You know, Sooty, having a follower like that is quite a serious business. I'm quite prepared to bet that he's not wondering why he hasn't got 'someone' but what he has to do to get into your pants. After all, he has been faithful, he obeyed all your precepts, he loved you above all others, and now he's finally in a position to prove it in more tangible and pleasnat terms than committing genocide, he finds you shacked up with what he'd consider to be a half human kitchen hand." Gil shook his head sadly. "No wonder he looked dejected."

"I don't know," Asar-Suti sighed. "To be quite honest, had he done anything of that sort, I'd have had problems telling him no. My closest followers and I have always been - special. Inferring things after Strahan and applying that to Lochiel without asking was what brought all that unhappiness about. Strahan was - Strahan was breath-taking, sneaky, stylish, lovely, extraordinary, dedicated and devoted, back home. He would spend hours on end by my Gate, letting my flames touch him, crawl all over his skin. We were very close; but here, he's been moving slowly away from me, and I know I have to let him. As anybody, he grows beyond what he used to be. Like me, he's without a purpose here, and he has to make his own. It takes time, though - of course, he is Strahan."

Asar-Suti shrugged. "And I don't think he would say anything about 'half-human kitchen hand' - unlike Lochiel, Strahan never needed to be high-handed, standoffish, or condescending. He just is what he is, with dedication and abandon as always. I just wanted you to warn about the maned wolf."

"Thanks, Soots," Gil says. "Don't worry, I won't hurt him."

Gil's come a hell of a long way since Ember's wolf chased him into a broom cupboard.

He sighs and picks up the jug and slurps a little of the quasi-chocolate from it. He can't give it away today.

Pine flavoured chocolate isn't catching on like he hoped it might, bearing in mind the season.