Discworld/Clamp
May. 31st, 2005 11:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katharosFirst exam over. Yay. Think I did ok. Two weeks till the next one now.
Joy.
But you know, it's amazing the lengths your brain will go to to distract itself when it's supposed to be revising.
Doodled in the margins of my note book. Discworld/Clamp crossover. A misperformed rite of Ashke Ente results in a smiling guest. Tell me I am insane and should write no more.
‘Shouting’ was the High Energy Magic Building’s natural noise state. Usually these shouts consisted of nice, normal things like “Who ate the last slice of pizza?” and, “Die, invading alien hordes from Sector 9!”
However, as a result of one student ingeniously attempting to perform the Rite of Ashke Ente with 1cc of cow’s blood and a magnolia flower, the shouts had taken on a rather more panicked edge.
It was, a small voice at the back of Ponder Stibbon’s brain pointed out, rather unfair that they were all looking to him to solve it.
For the rite had failed to produce, as was proper, an animated skeleton that was the personification of humanity’s Ultimate End. Instead there was a tall man dressed in elegant robes1, seated on a huge chair whose ‘throne-like’ suggestions had pointy bits, holding a teacup from which steam was rising gently, and wearing a mildly perturbed expression.
It was not a good day to be Ponder Stibbons.
Two hours later and the frantic activity still had not abated. Hex was strangely quiet, and the students had been busy drawing glyphs, measuring thaumatic energy levels – in fact, using any and every investigative tool they could dream up, including divining pizza.2
Their guest didn’t seem at all offended. He had even offered several helpful suggestions.
Ponder could feel his stress levels rack up another notch everytime the stranger took a sip from his cup (and surely he had gone through at least three cup fulls of the things by now? He hadn’t managed to catch him refilling it) and commented gently to a beleaguered student who really hadn’t done anything that bad in his life, that the third line of Mackinpo’s Nintey-eighth Glyph should be more of a ziggle than a squiggle.
It was at this point that the Archchancellor wondered in to see what they were all up too. 3
He stopped and blinked at the calm centre of the flurry of activity. The he leaned over and hissed loudly in Ponder’s ear. “Where did he come from, Stibbons?”
“A misperformed Rite of Ashke Ente, Archchancellor,” Ponder answered miserably.
“Huh.” Ridcully eyed the figure in the armchair for a long moment. “Well let him up then. Least we can do is offer the fellow dinner.”
“But Archchancellor!” Ponder exclaimed, shocked. “We don’t know who he is!”
“You mean all you clever young chaps haven’t been able to figure that out?”
“We have been attempting to do so, Archchancellor,” Ponder said stiffly, gesturing at the disaster area.
Ridcully sniffed and turned to the stranger who was politely pretending not to listen. “I’m Mustrum Ridcully, Archchancellor of this University. Who’re you?”
“I am Clow Reed,” the stranger introduced himself, bowing gracefully from his seated position. “It is an honour to meet you, Archchancellor.”
“See,” Ridcully said smugly, turning to Ponder. “Bit of common courtesy will always get things going.”
“Yes, Archancellor,” Ponder wilted.
Ridcully sniffed. “That’s what you young fellows lack, a bit of acquaintance with Miss Manners. Well?” he added, swinging a glare on Stibbons. “Let the chap get up.”
“But Archchancellor!” Ponder wailed miserably. “What if he’s some horrible beast from the Dungeon Dimensions bent upon subjugating the world!”
Clow contrived to look hurt.
“Nonsense,” Ridcully said bracingly. “Chap hasn’t got a tentacle on him. Besides,” he added as if as an afterthought. “It isn’t a Tuesday.”
“Why- why is that significant, Archchancellor?” Ponder asked weakly.
“Extra-dimensional invasions always happen on a Tuesday,” Clow said, and smiled over the rim of his teacup.
1. Even Wizards, whose idea of style was, “well, maybe just a few more sequins could tell these robes were the height of elegance.
2. A new discipline discovered as a consequence of Student lunches being left untouched for months
3. always a bad trait in a manager
Oh yeah, and I am actually thinking about having a go at the fic_on_demand June challenge. Take my hand and lead me gently to the nice men in white coats.
Joy.
But you know, it's amazing the lengths your brain will go to to distract itself when it's supposed to be revising.
Doodled in the margins of my note book. Discworld/Clamp crossover. A misperformed rite of Ashke Ente results in a smiling guest. Tell me I am insane and should write no more.
‘Shouting’ was the High Energy Magic Building’s natural noise state. Usually these shouts consisted of nice, normal things like “Who ate the last slice of pizza?” and, “Die, invading alien hordes from Sector 9!”
However, as a result of one student ingeniously attempting to perform the Rite of Ashke Ente with 1cc of cow’s blood and a magnolia flower, the shouts had taken on a rather more panicked edge.
It was, a small voice at the back of Ponder Stibbon’s brain pointed out, rather unfair that they were all looking to him to solve it.
For the rite had failed to produce, as was proper, an animated skeleton that was the personification of humanity’s Ultimate End. Instead there was a tall man dressed in elegant robes1, seated on a huge chair whose ‘throne-like’ suggestions had pointy bits, holding a teacup from which steam was rising gently, and wearing a mildly perturbed expression.
It was not a good day to be Ponder Stibbons.
Two hours later and the frantic activity still had not abated. Hex was strangely quiet, and the students had been busy drawing glyphs, measuring thaumatic energy levels – in fact, using any and every investigative tool they could dream up, including divining pizza.2
Their guest didn’t seem at all offended. He had even offered several helpful suggestions.
Ponder could feel his stress levels rack up another notch everytime the stranger took a sip from his cup (and surely he had gone through at least three cup fulls of the things by now? He hadn’t managed to catch him refilling it) and commented gently to a beleaguered student who really hadn’t done anything that bad in his life, that the third line of Mackinpo’s Nintey-eighth Glyph should be more of a ziggle than a squiggle.
It was at this point that the Archchancellor wondered in to see what they were all up too. 3
He stopped and blinked at the calm centre of the flurry of activity. The he leaned over and hissed loudly in Ponder’s ear. “Where did he come from, Stibbons?”
“A misperformed Rite of Ashke Ente, Archchancellor,” Ponder answered miserably.
“Huh.” Ridcully eyed the figure in the armchair for a long moment. “Well let him up then. Least we can do is offer the fellow dinner.”
“But Archchancellor!” Ponder exclaimed, shocked. “We don’t know who he is!”
“You mean all you clever young chaps haven’t been able to figure that out?”
“We have been attempting to do so, Archchancellor,” Ponder said stiffly, gesturing at the disaster area.
Ridcully sniffed and turned to the stranger who was politely pretending not to listen. “I’m Mustrum Ridcully, Archchancellor of this University. Who’re you?”
“I am Clow Reed,” the stranger introduced himself, bowing gracefully from his seated position. “It is an honour to meet you, Archchancellor.”
“See,” Ridcully said smugly, turning to Ponder. “Bit of common courtesy will always get things going.”
“Yes, Archancellor,” Ponder wilted.
Ridcully sniffed. “That’s what you young fellows lack, a bit of acquaintance with Miss Manners. Well?” he added, swinging a glare on Stibbons. “Let the chap get up.”
“But Archchancellor!” Ponder wailed miserably. “What if he’s some horrible beast from the Dungeon Dimensions bent upon subjugating the world!”
Clow contrived to look hurt.
“Nonsense,” Ridcully said bracingly. “Chap hasn’t got a tentacle on him. Besides,” he added as if as an afterthought. “It isn’t a Tuesday.”
“Why- why is that significant, Archchancellor?” Ponder asked weakly.
“Extra-dimensional invasions always happen on a Tuesday,” Clow said, and smiled over the rim of his teacup.
1. Even Wizards, whose idea of style was, “well, maybe just a few more sequins could tell these robes were the height of elegance.
2. A new discipline discovered as a consequence of Student lunches being left untouched for months
3. always a bad trait in a manager
Oh yeah, and I am actually thinking about having a go at the fic_on_demand June challenge. Take my hand and lead me gently to the nice men in white coats.
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Date: 2005-05-31 11:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-31 11:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-01 12:04 am (UTC)On a more serious note, I liked the little details you managed to incorporate into the piece and I must now re-read Discworld. I've read several books but I can't connect them with the characters you're using, so I must brush up on my Pratchett. Any suggestions, since there are so many books in the series.
no subject
Date: 2005-06-01 12:10 am (UTC)I did a huge advice thing for
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Date: 2005-06-01 12:19 am (UTC)Have you read Good Omens by Pratchett and Gaiman?
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Date: 2005-06-01 12:26 pm (UTC)"All the high lifeformd scythed away... nothing left but dust and fundamentalists."
*glee*
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Date: 2005-06-02 01:32 am (UTC)Who is your favorite character from Good Omens? I absolutely adore Aziraphale and his little quirks ^_^
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Date: 2005-06-01 07:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-01 12:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-01 12:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-01 12:58 pm (UTC)There are 17 Pratchett books in Spanish.
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Date: 2005-06-01 08:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-02 06:53 am (UTC)*pokes* Any chance of another one?