Foreign Parts
"I don't hold with it, these foreign parts." "You've been to Limsa Lominsa and Ul'dah and even Idyllshire. That's foreign!" "That's not foreign parts. That's just--a long way off, that's not foreign. Foreign parts are where they gabble at you in strange lingo and eat foreign muck and worship--you know. Objects," said Gannet Fenstanton, good-will diplomat. "Foreign parts can be quite close too if you're not careful." The witches all looked at the red-haired man, who was self-assuredly stirring the cauldron. Gannet had been in a bleaker mood than usual ever since he'd gotten back from helping those Agents with that last job, the one where they went to help some man named Gideon or some such get free from having his soul taken by his old tutor. Gannet was an excellent sulker, he'd nearly turned it into a profession he could charge for; at the present, however, he was turning it all inwards which was never a good sign. Of course, they all knew why he was acting this way. He'd had to reveal he wasn't nearly as terrifying as he wished people thought he was, or rather, not in the way he wished they did. Gannet was a firm believer that respect was a dish best served with a side of fear and most everyone thought a witch consorted with the demons of the Hells and could turn a man into a toad with a word. That last part was true and while the first might be for others, no real upstanding witch with half a mind would consort with Voidsent--they simply knew Voidsent were nothing to be afraid of was all. Unfortunately for Gannet, he had been forced to admit aloud that he had no such pacts with any such beings which, naturally, left him feeling as exposed as a streaker in Ishgard--cold, humiliated and like important parts were about to fall off. "I don't think it really matters if its foreign or not," said Missus Pinte, a middled-aged wise-woman that had made her name by being the best chocobo witch in this side of the Wall. "It's just another place that has things that need doing and so someone needs to go do them." Gannet loathed her. She was simplistically practical when he didn't want to be. "And you're the only one that really has anyone what can take you over there, my lad." Brother Mars, who had been reservedly quiet during this entire discussion and coven so far finally spoke, turning his bound eyes towards (and by towards, it should be clarified as 'downwards') at Gugubu Gubu, the lalafell that acted as the sole representative of that race in their collection of witchcraft (though none of them held that against her). "Did you bring the biscuits?" "Well now, I thought I'd forgotten something! I'll lose me own head next...!" the elderly woman of a lalafell mumbled, fishing in her pockets for the biscuits she knew weren't there. "I have a toffee. It's only been in my pocket for a week or so...!" Gugubu had the habit of speaking loudly at first and then trailing off into an almost inaudible mumble by the end. "It's not like it was my turn to bring them anyroad, that's what I'm saying....It ain't like it was my turn, that's all I'm saying..." "That's alright. I was asking merely for information," Brother Mars calmly replied. Gannet's brow quirked at that--information was lethal in Brother Mars' hands. When you didn't have eyes, you had to make up for it elsewhere. "Gannet, I don't think you need to speak ill of foreign lands. I actually was going to say that I'd prefer you didn't go. It's best you remain here and keep an eye on things." "What?" The entire coven fell silent, the gossiping and rumor-mongering screeching to a halt. Everyone knew you didn't tell Gannet what he could or couldn't do. "I am saying that you will be better served to remain here instead of travelling to foreign parts. As a matter of fact, I'm forbidding you to go." There was a pregnant pause before he added, "And don't think of going to your Agent friends for help on it either. This is my final word on the matter. I'll get someone else to go for us." Everyone knew you didn't tell Gannet not to go somewhere. It was the fastest way to see to it that he did go there or did do the thing just to spite you. As it had been explained to them once by Brother Mars, it was a matter of 'psycholology' or 'Mindomancy'--that his eggo wouldn't stand for being told what he could or couldn't do. It had always worked for Brother Mars in the past and he saw no reason to stop now or any time soon. "Well. Fine then. I suppose I'll just go home and start packing." "I believe I just told you--" "Oh I heard you. And I ain't packing for foreign parts. I'm packing for--closer parts. Parts that are--you know. Not-foreign." Gannet tugged on the brim of his hat and turned, leaving the fire and the cauldron and the coven behind on their little spot on the hill in the forest and made his way back to his home. "He really does have a big eggo," Missus Pinte remarked as he disappeared from view. "I mean, he's sharp as a tack but that eggo of his..." "It's what makes him such a good witch, Missus Pinte. You need a will like that to get done the things that need to be done," Brother Mars remarked, taking up his mug and drinking a long draught of his tea from it. "It ain't like it's my turn to bring them....ain't been my turn in three moons..." mumbled Gugubu to herself, jabbing the fire with a stick, sulkily. @astralagents
