Anthropomorphism
Twist
A/n: No idea where this came from. I was bored, wanted to write something, and thought of things that might be true in Pratchett's Discworld. Lo, this bizarre little ditty came out. Read, laugh, weep, scream, gasp in horror, and run to the nearest sushi restaurant.
~
Vetinari tapped the paper idly with his pen, chewing his lip. The scene was obviously one of deep thoughtfulness, and silence was reigning supreme for the short bit of time. Ten minutes ago, some noble snot had been ranting about taxes to the walls* and five minutes from this point Vimes would probably be in here, becoming enraged about something that would come up. And so it went every day.
And, in the silence, the Patrician realized that he was completely and utterly bored. It was a familiar feeling, usually felt during banquets and pretty much everywhere else, but not in this way. Vetinari realized, as he doodled stick people all over the paper in front of him, that it was no longer his job that was boring - that had dawned on him at least five years previous - but his life in general. And this was a bad thing.
The Patrician was an extremely intelligent man, and often channeled it into the mounds an mounds of paperwork with big words and subtle wit that was lost on everyone else, save some Guild leaders. So, feeling that he really couldn't do anything more at the moment, he decided to disregard Vimes for the moment and left the room. Not to anywhere in particular, just to wander aimlessly for the next five minutes or so. And, presumably because he wasn't paying attention, that was when he died.**
~
Vimes was sitting in his office, minding his own business, not heartlessly wounding anyone, when his DisOrganizer decided that it had been ignored long enough, and made its presence known.
"Bingley-Bingley-Beep!"
"What?" The Commander asked wearily, looking to the small blue box buried amongst the paperwork.
"Three of the clock: Meeting with the Patrician!"
"Ah." Vimes shoved the box into his pocket, stood up, and walked out of his office, telling Colon shortly where he would be. The sergeant saluted, and Vimes left the Watch House.
~
Vetinari sat up, rubbing his head and looking annoyed at that fact that he'd just gone and died.
HELLO. I AM HERE TO ESCOR - OH. IT'S JUST YOU, THEN?
"Yes, looks like I've gone and bloody died again." Vetinari straightened, a slight blue glow resting on his outline. "Having an actual body's a bugger, isn't it?"
I WOULDN'T KNOW. Death said, entirely truthfully. Not all anthropomorphic personifications were gifted with actually possessing a body. Others, like Time, War, Kaos, and Political Stability were granted such a gift. Not that they enjoyed them.
"How are you these days, then?" Political Stability asked, dematerializing the sprawled body on the floor with a wave of a hand. "Keeping busy?"
OH, YOU KNOW HOW IT IS. THE WORLD ALWAYS HOVERING ON THE EDGE OF OBLIVIION WITH THIS UNCERTAINTY PRINCIPLE THING. AND YOU?
"Pretty much normal," the other personification replied. "How are the other four? Not seen much of them lately, except for that rather nasty business with the clock all those months ago."
IT IS GOOD TO HAVE KAOS BACK, CERTAINLY.
"Well," said Political Stability, glancing up the staircase, "it's certainly nice to have him out of the city. He always played hell with the whole 'stability' bit."
I CAN IMAGINE.
"What are the Gods up to, these days? I loose track of things in that bloody office." He was waving his hand around vaguely, making space-time swirl enough to suit his needs. It was a bad habit. His mother had always discouraged it.
SAME AS ALWAYS. ALTHOUGH I BELIVE YOU DID MAKE CONTACT A FEW MONTHS AGO AFTER THE KITE ORDEAL.
"Certainly I did. It would have been unprofessional not to respond." He looked around. "How would you happen to feel about sushi at this particular moment? It's been ages since I've had proper sushi." Death eyed the shorter personification, insofar as much as a skeleton is able to eye something.
DON'T' YOU HAVE THINGS TO DO?
"Don't you?" Stability asked, snapping his fingers. For a brief moment, time froze. In a glass castle far away, Lobsang swore. "Anyway, Time owes me a few favors. Not to mention joints and the effects of gravity on mortal skin and whatnot. Freezing Ankh-Morpork for an hour certainly wouldn't be that hard."
"It bloody well would!" Time appeared at Death's shoulder, looking rather angry. "And could you please stop swirling your hand like that? The monks are going to have headaches for months . . . And the Mandala . . ."
"Alright, keep you robe on. I know a really quick sushi place over in Klatch that we can be in and out of in half an hour." Stability looked at Time, pleading. "Please? I won't play with space time anymore, I promise."
DO THEY HAVE CURRY?
"I believe so, yes," Stability said, grinning.
"What about sea bass?" Time asked, looking at Stability with a new curiosity. "I haven't had sea bass since I was mortal." Death and Stability gave Time a Look, having never been wholly mortal themselves.
"Sure," Stability said. "Just one half of an hour. I swear that I will not do the hand thing again."
Time gave in. "Alright, I'll give you half an hour. But I'm coming, just to make sure."
"Right," Stability said, eyes gleaming and hands clasped. "You do have your horse with you, don't you? I promised I wouldn't play with space-time."
~
Vimes had been sitting in the Patrician's audience chamber for the past ten minutes, and had cultivated some brand new hemorrhoids in those oh-so-comfy chairs. Exciting, hmm? So Vimes sat, staring at the wall, wondering where the hell the man was and why the Office was so quiet. Deciding to investigate, he stood up and strode purposefully toward the large doors. As he laid his hand on the door, Ankh-Morpork froze.
In other places on the Disc, anything that had nothing to do with Ankh- Morpork continued on uninterrupted for a half an hour. And then Ankh- Morpork, citizens, and anyone who had been traveling there flowed back into life.
Vimes turned the doorknob and stepped into the office, where the Patrician was working furiously away at his pile of papers. For the briefest of moments, Vimes was sure there was a faint blue glow outlining the man. Upon closer inspection, it vanished. Vetinari looked up.
"Ah, Commander . . ."
And so the meeting commenced.
End
~
*Vetinari had certainly not been paying attention.
**Note to the little kiddies: Do not attempt to walk down stairs while not paying attention. It hurts and, as Havelock has demonstrated, it can be fatal at times. Good boy, Havelock. /hands him a biscuit/ (See also: Wyrd Sisters, Lord of the Flies)
A/n: No idea where this came from. I was bored, wanted to write something, and thought of things that might be true in Pratchett's Discworld. Lo, this bizarre little ditty came out. Read, laugh, weep, scream, gasp in horror, and run to the nearest sushi restaurant.
~
Vetinari tapped the paper idly with his pen, chewing his lip. The scene was obviously one of deep thoughtfulness, and silence was reigning supreme for the short bit of time. Ten minutes ago, some noble snot had been ranting about taxes to the walls* and five minutes from this point Vimes would probably be in here, becoming enraged about something that would come up. And so it went every day.
And, in the silence, the Patrician realized that he was completely and utterly bored. It was a familiar feeling, usually felt during banquets and pretty much everywhere else, but not in this way. Vetinari realized, as he doodled stick people all over the paper in front of him, that it was no longer his job that was boring - that had dawned on him at least five years previous - but his life in general. And this was a bad thing.
The Patrician was an extremely intelligent man, and often channeled it into the mounds an mounds of paperwork with big words and subtle wit that was lost on everyone else, save some Guild leaders. So, feeling that he really couldn't do anything more at the moment, he decided to disregard Vimes for the moment and left the room. Not to anywhere in particular, just to wander aimlessly for the next five minutes or so. And, presumably because he wasn't paying attention, that was when he died.**
~
Vimes was sitting in his office, minding his own business, not heartlessly wounding anyone, when his DisOrganizer decided that it had been ignored long enough, and made its presence known.
"Bingley-Bingley-Beep!"
"What?" The Commander asked wearily, looking to the small blue box buried amongst the paperwork.
"Three of the clock: Meeting with the Patrician!"
"Ah." Vimes shoved the box into his pocket, stood up, and walked out of his office, telling Colon shortly where he would be. The sergeant saluted, and Vimes left the Watch House.
~
Vetinari sat up, rubbing his head and looking annoyed at that fact that he'd just gone and died.
HELLO. I AM HERE TO ESCOR - OH. IT'S JUST YOU, THEN?
"Yes, looks like I've gone and bloody died again." Vetinari straightened, a slight blue glow resting on his outline. "Having an actual body's a bugger, isn't it?"
I WOULDN'T KNOW. Death said, entirely truthfully. Not all anthropomorphic personifications were gifted with actually possessing a body. Others, like Time, War, Kaos, and Political Stability were granted such a gift. Not that they enjoyed them.
"How are you these days, then?" Political Stability asked, dematerializing the sprawled body on the floor with a wave of a hand. "Keeping busy?"
OH, YOU KNOW HOW IT IS. THE WORLD ALWAYS HOVERING ON THE EDGE OF OBLIVIION WITH THIS UNCERTAINTY PRINCIPLE THING. AND YOU?
"Pretty much normal," the other personification replied. "How are the other four? Not seen much of them lately, except for that rather nasty business with the clock all those months ago."
IT IS GOOD TO HAVE KAOS BACK, CERTAINLY.
"Well," said Political Stability, glancing up the staircase, "it's certainly nice to have him out of the city. He always played hell with the whole 'stability' bit."
I CAN IMAGINE.
"What are the Gods up to, these days? I loose track of things in that bloody office." He was waving his hand around vaguely, making space-time swirl enough to suit his needs. It was a bad habit. His mother had always discouraged it.
SAME AS ALWAYS. ALTHOUGH I BELIVE YOU DID MAKE CONTACT A FEW MONTHS AGO AFTER THE KITE ORDEAL.
"Certainly I did. It would have been unprofessional not to respond." He looked around. "How would you happen to feel about sushi at this particular moment? It's been ages since I've had proper sushi." Death eyed the shorter personification, insofar as much as a skeleton is able to eye something.
DON'T' YOU HAVE THINGS TO DO?
"Don't you?" Stability asked, snapping his fingers. For a brief moment, time froze. In a glass castle far away, Lobsang swore. "Anyway, Time owes me a few favors. Not to mention joints and the effects of gravity on mortal skin and whatnot. Freezing Ankh-Morpork for an hour certainly wouldn't be that hard."
"It bloody well would!" Time appeared at Death's shoulder, looking rather angry. "And could you please stop swirling your hand like that? The monks are going to have headaches for months . . . And the Mandala . . ."
"Alright, keep you robe on. I know a really quick sushi place over in Klatch that we can be in and out of in half an hour." Stability looked at Time, pleading. "Please? I won't play with space time anymore, I promise."
DO THEY HAVE CURRY?
"I believe so, yes," Stability said, grinning.
"What about sea bass?" Time asked, looking at Stability with a new curiosity. "I haven't had sea bass since I was mortal." Death and Stability gave Time a Look, having never been wholly mortal themselves.
"Sure," Stability said. "Just one half of an hour. I swear that I will not do the hand thing again."
Time gave in. "Alright, I'll give you half an hour. But I'm coming, just to make sure."
"Right," Stability said, eyes gleaming and hands clasped. "You do have your horse with you, don't you? I promised I wouldn't play with space-time."
~
Vimes had been sitting in the Patrician's audience chamber for the past ten minutes, and had cultivated some brand new hemorrhoids in those oh-so-comfy chairs. Exciting, hmm? So Vimes sat, staring at the wall, wondering where the hell the man was and why the Office was so quiet. Deciding to investigate, he stood up and strode purposefully toward the large doors. As he laid his hand on the door, Ankh-Morpork froze.
In other places on the Disc, anything that had nothing to do with Ankh- Morpork continued on uninterrupted for a half an hour. And then Ankh- Morpork, citizens, and anyone who had been traveling there flowed back into life.
Vimes turned the doorknob and stepped into the office, where the Patrician was working furiously away at his pile of papers. For the briefest of moments, Vimes was sure there was a faint blue glow outlining the man. Upon closer inspection, it vanished. Vetinari looked up.
"Ah, Commander . . ."
And so the meeting commenced.
End
~
*Vetinari had certainly not been paying attention.
**Note to the little kiddies: Do not attempt to walk down stairs while not paying attention. It hurts and, as Havelock has demonstrated, it can be fatal at times. Good boy, Havelock. /hands him a biscuit/ (See also: Wyrd Sisters, Lord of the Flies)
