Out of the shadows
~note to Zela (and anyone else scratching their heads over the Magrat thing.)
This isn't really set in any particular time zone; it uses whatever characters are needed in the plot, (plus I just like writing Magrat more!)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Death sat at his desk with his feet up, relaxing while he could. He knew a busy time was coming, he could remember it happening. He could remember everything, even things that haven't happened yet - that's the trouble with being an anthropomorphic personification.
He looked at the lifetimer in front of him and noticed that he had approximately ten minutes, just enough time for a cup of tea.
Death pulled the servants bell and after much shuffling of feet, crashing into things and swearing Albert appeared in front of him.
"Your tea," said Albert passing him the tray, "time off, eh?"
YES, I FIND IT HELPS ME TO HAVE SOME TIME TO JUST SIT AND WATCH THE WORLD GO BY, FORGET MY JOB, FORGET TIME ITSELF AND JUST LET MY MIND BECOME A BLANK SLATE
"How long have you got then?
6 MINUTES AND 29 SECONDS
Albert sighed. "Make the most of it..." He left the study to pursue his preferred habit of skulking in the kitchen.
It was lucky that death looked up at the lifetimer at that moment (this was an important lifetimer) - If he hadn't, the entire fabric of the universe and each person in it would have slowly and painfully not existed and the Discworld would have imploded causing a large hole in the universe that would have then sucked the rest of the multiverse into the dungeon dimensions.
So it was very lucky he had looked up from his tea at that precise moment.
In that horrible stomach clenching moment, something unthinkable had happened.
OH BUGGER
Death had forgotten something.
* * *
The green fog of the river Ankh hung over the Shades, causing the
large doglike rats to disappear into the sweeter smelling sewers.
One rather stupid woman was walking through the Shades, holding her
handkerchief tightly to her nose. She was a tourist, a rare species of
rich, gullible human. They'll buy anything with the words authentic,
traditional or locally produced in the title; they'd even eat one of
Dibblers 'almost 100 percent meat pies.'
She was seeing the sights, soaking up the atmosphere and also about to
get mugged.
A dark and stooping figure slipped out of the shadows holding a large
rusty knife.
"Boo."
The effect of this one noise caused a shriek like that of twenty cats
having their tails trodden on, just as the opera singer reaches his
highest note and the carpenter bangs his thumb with the hammer.
In other words - it was a very loud sound.
"Gimme all your money," He whispered threateningly to the tourist, "and shut up."
Light dawned on the tourist's dim brain... he was an unlicensed thief.
"OHHH, I see, an illegal thief. how strange." She said loudly.
"Shutupshutupshutupshutu." The thief urged. He had seen another shape coming out of the darkness.
This silhouette was very different from the thief's in many
ways.
1) It was not stooping, it held itself high and proud, afraid of
nothing, because there was nothing worse than itself.
2) It did not feel the need for introductions. It is far easier
to commit a crime when the victim doesn't even know it's happening
until it's over.
3) The weapon it was carrying was not a rusty dagger. If it had
been carrying a dagger it would have been sharp and silver, the finest
it could steal, but as it happened it was not carrying any weapons.
It didn't need weapons.
* * *
Death skidded around the corner just in time to see the thief running away very quickly from a large shadow and a woman.
He was 3 minutes early.
Thank Gods.
~note to Zela (and anyone else scratching their heads over the Magrat thing.)
This isn't really set in any particular time zone; it uses whatever characters are needed in the plot, (plus I just like writing Magrat more!)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Death sat at his desk with his feet up, relaxing while he could. He knew a busy time was coming, he could remember it happening. He could remember everything, even things that haven't happened yet - that's the trouble with being an anthropomorphic personification.
He looked at the lifetimer in front of him and noticed that he had approximately ten minutes, just enough time for a cup of tea.
Death pulled the servants bell and after much shuffling of feet, crashing into things and swearing Albert appeared in front of him.
"Your tea," said Albert passing him the tray, "time off, eh?"
YES, I FIND IT HELPS ME TO HAVE SOME TIME TO JUST SIT AND WATCH THE WORLD GO BY, FORGET MY JOB, FORGET TIME ITSELF AND JUST LET MY MIND BECOME A BLANK SLATE
"How long have you got then?
6 MINUTES AND 29 SECONDS
Albert sighed. "Make the most of it..." He left the study to pursue his preferred habit of skulking in the kitchen.
It was lucky that death looked up at the lifetimer at that moment (this was an important lifetimer) - If he hadn't, the entire fabric of the universe and each person in it would have slowly and painfully not existed and the Discworld would have imploded causing a large hole in the universe that would have then sucked the rest of the multiverse into the dungeon dimensions.
So it was very lucky he had looked up from his tea at that precise moment.
In that horrible stomach clenching moment, something unthinkable had happened.
OH BUGGER
Death had forgotten something.
* * *
The green fog of the river Ankh hung over the Shades, causing the
large doglike rats to disappear into the sweeter smelling sewers.
One rather stupid woman was walking through the Shades, holding her
handkerchief tightly to her nose. She was a tourist, a rare species of
rich, gullible human. They'll buy anything with the words authentic,
traditional or locally produced in the title; they'd even eat one of
Dibblers 'almost 100 percent meat pies.'
She was seeing the sights, soaking up the atmosphere and also about to
get mugged.
A dark and stooping figure slipped out of the shadows holding a large
rusty knife.
"Boo."
The effect of this one noise caused a shriek like that of twenty cats
having their tails trodden on, just as the opera singer reaches his
highest note and the carpenter bangs his thumb with the hammer.
In other words - it was a very loud sound.
"Gimme all your money," He whispered threateningly to the tourist, "and shut up."
Light dawned on the tourist's dim brain... he was an unlicensed thief.
"OHHH, I see, an illegal thief. how strange." She said loudly.
"Shutupshutupshutupshutu." The thief urged. He had seen another shape coming out of the darkness.
This silhouette was very different from the thief's in many
ways.
1) It was not stooping, it held itself high and proud, afraid of
nothing, because there was nothing worse than itself.
2) It did not feel the need for introductions. It is far easier
to commit a crime when the victim doesn't even know it's happening
until it's over.
3) The weapon it was carrying was not a rusty dagger. If it had
been carrying a dagger it would have been sharp and silver, the finest
it could steal, but as it happened it was not carrying any weapons.
It didn't need weapons.
* * *
Death skidded around the corner just in time to see the thief running away very quickly from a large shadow and a woman.
He was 3 minutes early.
Thank Gods.