Again I find myself diving into Greecian mythology-but what the hells, Discworld gods are like the Greek ones anyway...Oh and Reg takes advantage of Cassandra's inebriation-but not like that, before anyone starts.
Apparently part of becoming a member of the Watch involved going to the Bucket, buying a lot of drinks and then proceeding to get as hammered as an blind blacksmith's anvil.
Cassandra was being subjected to this rite of passage. Currently it was her name that was the topic of conversation.
'Cassandra? Wasn't she some mad seer who got involved with one of the gods hundreds of years ago?' The giant who had been introduced as Carrot said earnestly. As well as being the most honest of the group he was also the most sober.
'I was told that the god in question was Fedecks. And he drove her mad.' Pan told me that, she thought, he probably thought it was ironically appropriate.. She considered her fifth drink of the evening, drank it, and reflected that an empty glass was an abomination that should be remedied as soon as possible. Though her thoughts were sliding in and out of focus by this point.
Detritus was already snoring loudly somewhere in the vicinity of the floor, due to one too many vodka and cokes (the troll kind, without fizz).
Someone else was attempting to have a conversation with her, so she did her best to narrow the speaker down to one clear image. Unfortunately this was easier said than done.
'Tomorrow is Thursday. I'm betting you'll be wanting to attend that meeting I was talking about miss.'
'Yes?' Cassandra thought that maybe by saying this the speaker might be tempted into explaining themselves. She was sure it must be the drink talking, but whoever it was appeared have an unusually grey skin tone.
'Oh, everyone will be so happy to meet you, I'm sure.' The figure's voice had a bullet-proof smile in it.
'Really?' Cassandra had never, in her memory at least, met anyone who would be happy to have met her. Most were indifferent. Some were quite negative, now she thought about it.
'We'll all see you there at noon then?'
'Where?' She was beginning to panic, but only vaguely. The alcohol was doing an amazing job of soothing her nerves, and even blocking out the frantic hand signals from Angua.
'668 Elm street. Every body welcome.'
'Oh. Okay.' She looked around and proposed a drunken toast, 'to sweet beginnings and bitter endings!'
At this point the drink convinced her that the very best thing she could do now was join Detritus underneath the table. So she did.
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