#very happy with ridcully

[curarems]

Ridcully Bursar Ponder Librarian. This is brilliant. Best possible quartet for the journey to Lancre. I can't WAIT

[helenvader]

I am not that thrilled about the football plot of Unseen Academicals, but there are so many gems in the book. Here we have Lord Veterinary 🤣 who did his homework on the subject at hand so well that it makes everybody speechless (no news), and the last part is just... glorious.

--

At which point someone tried to slap Vetinari on the back. It happened with remarkable speed and ended possibly even faster than it began, with Vetinari still seated in his chair with his beer mug in one hand and the man’s wrist gripped tightly at head height. He let go and said, ‘Can I help you, sir?’

‘You’re that Lord Veterinary, ain’t ya? I seed you on them postage stamps.’

Ridcully glanced up. Some of Lord Vetinari’s clerks were briskly heading towards them, along with some of the slurred speaker’s friends, who could be defined at this point as people who were slightly more sober than he was and right now were sobering up very, very fast, because when you have just slapped a tyrant on the back you need all the friends you can get. Vetinari nodded at his gentlemen, who evaporated back into the crowd, and then he snapped his fingers at one of the waiters.

‘A chair here, please, for my new friend.’

‘Are you sure?’ said Ridcully, as a chair was pushed under the man who, by happy coincidence, was falling backwards in any case.

‘I mean,’ said the man, ‘everary one saysh you’re a bit of a wnacker, but I saysh you’re awright over thish football fing. ’Sno future in jus’ shlogging away. I should know, I got kicked inna head quite a few times.’

‘Really?’ said Lord Vetinari.

‘And what is your name?’

‘Swithin, shir,’ said the man.

‘Any other name, by any chance?’ said Vetinari.

‘Dustworthy,’ he said. He raised a finger in a kind of salute. ‘Captain, the Cockbill Boars.’

‘Ah, you aren’t having a good season,’ said Vetinari. ‘You need fresh blood in the squad, especially since Jimmy Wilkins got put into the Tanty after eating someone’s nose. Naphill walked all over you because you lost your backbone when both of the Pinchpenny brothers were taken to the Lady Sybil, and you’ve been stuck down in the mud for three seasons. Okay, everyone says that Harry Capstick is making a very good showing since you bought him from Treacle Mine Tuesday for two crates of Winkle’s Old Peculiar and a sack of pork scratchings, which is not bad for a man with a wooden leg, but there’s never anyone in support.’

A circle of silence spread outwards from Vetinari and the swaying Swithin. Ridcully’s mouth had dropped open and Henry’s brandy glass remained half empty, an unusual occurrence for a glass that’s been in the hands of a wizard for more than fifteen seconds.

‘Also, I’m hearing that your pies are leaving a lot to be desired, such as dead, cooked, organic content,’ continued Vetinari. ‘Can’t get the Shove behind you when the pies are seen to walk about.’

‘My ladsh,’ said Swithin, ‘are the besht there ish. It’sh not their fault they’re up againsht better people. They never getsh a chance to play shomeone they can beat. They alwaysh gives it one hundred and twenty pershent and you can’t give more than that. Anyhow, how come you know all this shtuff ? It’s not like we’re big in the league.’

‘Oh, I take an interest,’ said Vetinari. ‘I believe that football is a lot like life.’

‘There ish that, shir, there ish that. You does your besht and then shomeone kicksh you inna fork.’

‘Then I strongly advise you to take an interest in our new football,’ said Vetinari, ‘which will be about speed, skill and thinking.’

‘Oh, yeah, right, I can do all them,’ said Swithin, at which point he fell off his chair.

‘Does this poor man have any friends here?’ said Vetinari, turning to the crowd.

There was some diffidence among them concerning whether or not it was a good idea to be friends with Swithin at this point.

Vetinari raised his voice: ‘I would just like a couple of people to take him back to his home. I would like them to put him to bed and see that no trouble comes to him. Perhaps they ought to stay with him until morning too, because he just might try to commit suicide when he wakes up.’

[facetsofthecloset]

Top 5 non-protagonist discworld characters?

Otto Chriek x5

Lol but seriously:

1. Otto: I love vampires and dorks and he’s a vampire dork but also so so smart and clever and trying so hard!! He’s such a good guy!!! And he works for it!!! That conversation he has with Vimes in Thud! about how he presents himself as silly and harmless so people won’t be afraid of him! Ahhh 😭🖤 Even when he’s mentioned in passing I always go from 🙂 to 😍🥰 immediately lol

2. Drumknott: the pencil stealing war between him and Moist is adorable 😭 Hyper competent super nerd weirdo I love him. He shows up at the end of G!G! (Iirc) like “I live here now” and everyone including Vetinari is like “yes you do” and he’s there to the end. Good old Drumknott

3. Salzella (from Maskerade): evil. But fuck he was hilarious, the dry sarcasm was right up my alley. I love that bit when they’re talking about how Dr. Undershaft was killed that’s like “something something he was hung” “Hanged. Dead meat is hung, people are hanged.” And Salzella goes “Ah yes? Then he was strangled to death, and then he was hung.” And Mr. Bucket is like “…you have issues :/“ AND IT’S TRUE BUT HE’S FUNNY OK

Aurgh this is hard bc I’m also kinda trying to avoid picking common fan favorites even if they’re technically not protagonists or like borderline not protagonists (like Adora, Ridcully, Cherri, Angua etc) (even though Otto kinda could be said to be protagonist-adjacent by this definition lol) ummm

4. Pin & Tulip: a two-for-one because more than either of them on their own I love their dynamic. Definitely high up there on my best Discworld villains. They contrast and complement each other well.

Also super fun to voice! I’ve recorded a few Discworld books for fun and to force my friend to get into them (lol), and I had a blast doing the voices for these two. Mr. Pin losing it is a super fun character to play ahhh

5. Mr. Bent: he is fascinating. Another one that’s fun to voice. And one of the best twists of any story ever of all time 🤡 I hope he’s very happy with Miss Drapes, or as I head canon her post marriage, Mrs. Bent-Drapes. (This is something I thought of when writing a ficlet of Moist and Adora’s wedding (shameless ao3 plug) as a dumb throwaway joke but now it’s kinda cemented in my brain lol)

[lancrewizzard]

A quick UU scribble because when I see a crack ship, I am cursed to think about how it would work. If it’s ooc, blame it on the fact that I haven’t read any faculty heavy books in a while and, well, it’s Ridcully/Bursar pre-relationship, what do you expect?

*

“BURSAR!”

The Bursar’s spoon dropped into his soup. His eye twitched.

“No wonder you’re so jumpy the whole time. What you need is some proper food in you. Roast pheasant. Pork. Here, have some of this duck.”

“I- I- I-”

Ridcully swept aside the Bursar’s stammering protest along with his soup bowl. Another plate landed in front of him with the same force the Archchancellor used for everything.

The Bursar eyed the crackling brown skin for a moment, then tried to scoop up the slice of roast duck with his wooden spoon.

“Good grief man, what are you doing?” Ridcully bellowed.

“I- erm. Spoon,” the Bursar explained.

The Senoir Wrangler leaned over. “Mustrum, must I remind you about last Hogswatch?”

“Ah, very true, very true. Well remembered that man. Can’t give a chap a dinner knife while he’s chasing the dried frog.”

So saying, Ridcully stood up, reached around the Bursar and started slicing his food into bite sized pieces.

“There has to be an easier way of doing that,” the Senior Wrangler muttered.

The Bursar didn’t say anything. He’d been dimly aware for a while that the Archchancellor did care in his own way. Now his slightly frog dazed mind was having to come to terms with the fact that Ridcully was not only doing something helpful, but that the arms around him were startlingly muscular and warm. Even more startling, for possibly the first time in his tenure, the Bursar had found one of Ridcully’s eccentricities that he hoped would continue.

[gideonthefirst]

ASOUE, Skulduggery Pleasant, Discworld

Hey Havelock this was a WILD emotional whiplash of things to read

ASOUE is answered here

Skulduggery Pleasant

How I first got into it: My grandma took me to the book store and was going to buy me the book and I had been really into PJO at the time and the American cover of the first book has a blurb from him on it and so I was like This Is The One. And the rest, unfortunately, is history.

Everything I ship: I’m actually not that into any particular relationships for sp anymore. I used to be big into Dexter Vex/Saracen Rue and China Sorrows/Skulduggery but now I’m just like…Valkyrie Cain and the concept of happiness? Tanith Low/me? 

My favourite platonic relationship(s): Valkyrie and Skulduggery are, like, the heart of anything that could be called good about this series and always have been. Val and her family also makes me ridiculously emotional as does, like, the Dead Men in general.

Top 3 Characters: Valkyrie Cain, China Sorrows, Tanith Low. Three gay awakenings, one after the other.

One of my favourite scenes: In Last Stand of Dead Men, when Val is escaping the Brides of Blood Tears and you only know what’s going on because of Darquesse’s inner, detached commentary and her slowly wearing Val down and convincing her to give in and then that final Yes is something I haven’t stopped thinking about since I read it.

Links to three fan works I like: 

This cool-ass animated Skulduggery

This comic of the Brides of Blood Tears scene!

Val Cain…

Favourite Fandom meme/inside joke: The thing where we all refuse to refer to Dark Landry by his actual name is very fun and good. Also, if anyone still follow me from The Dark Times, baguette.

Discworld

How I first got into it: Read the beginning of Color of Magic from the the library, wasn’t really into it, my dad got me Hogfather from the used bookstore near us and it changed my life. I did the thing where I just got whatever ones were available from my library and read them out of order and it was beautiful.

Everything I ship: Vimes/Sybil, because I have critical thinking skills. That might be it? It’s not, like, a ship-heavy series. I think Granny Weatherwax/Ridcully in the past is the FUNNIEST thing, but have no emotional investment in it at all. 

My favourite platonic relationship(s): Granny Weatherwax and Tiffany...and Tiffany and Jeannie...

Top 3 Characters: Oh MAN what the FUCK. I guess. Tiffany Aching, Death, Susan Sto Helit? Maybe? But also Vimes and Granny Weatherwax and Vetinari and Cheery there are so many!

One of my favourite scenes: When Vetinari assassinates whatsisname in Night Watch is one of the coolest things ever. It doesn’t get me emotionally in the way that a bunch of other Discworld scenes do, but it’s such a wild climax and sets up so many other things. Love that

Links to three fan works I like: I don’t really...do Discworld fanwork. I just think about it and cry

Favourite Fandom meme/inside joke: I don’t know if I actually know any? It’s not a joke for sure, but the use of GNU instead of RIP for Sir Terry really gets me.

[patricianandclerk]

So... I was struck with an idea for an audience of exactly one man, you, but-- Disc Death has some family obligation, has to cross some weird lines to get another Death to cover for him because he REALLY thinks this time he might get Rincewind, but there's GOT to be a competent Death on hand, one with good timing. The Death from this weird round earth is going to have to do. This falls apart in two crucial places, as I am about to lay out (1/?)

(2/?) First- Death 2 does NOT catch Rincewind. When there is a terrible explosion at UU, Rincewind escapes with his life. Drumknott, who had been arguing with Ridcully, is struck in the head by a large piece of the masonry, and winds up escorted off in Rincewind's place, much to his irritation.

(3/3) Secondly, Death 2 gets a little bit lost navigating the afterlife he's SUPPOSED to escort Drumknott to, like, once he does his thing, he reverts back to his own corner of the multiverse, where they do things differently. So rather than any of the things Drumknott had been prepared for, he comes face to face with... well, it IS Heaven, but he HATES it.

(4/?) It's very cushy and relaxed and there are loads of happy dead people enjoying themselves with all the leisure and ease they were denied in life, and it's a fucking NIGHTMARE. He would like to speak to the manager, actually. And he makes such a fuss about how he would like to do a Job, please, that finally, he gets his request.

(5/5) Drumknott winds up in Gabriel's office, and... oh, this he loves. Everything is right angles, nothing is out of place, nothing CAN be out of place, all is clean and orderly and businesslike and also, I mean... Gabriel. How can he NOT fuck him? And long story short they give Drumknott a job handling heavenly paperwork, he's great at it, he climbs Gabriel like a TREE.

anon i cannot tell you how LOVED i feel right now, after you’ve just handed me the craziest and most elaborate crossover concept just so that my two faves can fuck

AND IT WORKS! OH BOY DOES IT WORK!

like...

the fucking concept of Drumknott, this tiny little man in his suit, and Gabriel at his fucking standing desk, kinda looking at him and just

“There has been an error. I oughtn’t be here.”

And Gabriel who kinda laughs and claps his hands together and takes a step around the desk, and Drumknott looking up at him, and Gabriel just like, “Listen, buddy, you know, you’re not the first, uh, self-loathing type of guy to be thrown up here and you do deserve to be here, really, I--”

“My self-loathing is besides the point, sir. Look at my paperwork.” 

And Gabriel who kinda frowns and picks up what should be a big, beefy folder - the guy is forty, there should be more pages than this! - and there’s just like, a few lines about a last-minute transfer, a very vague backstory from what they could cobble together and skim off the top of his mind, and that’s it. “Oh,” Gabriel says.

“In any case, I don’t subscribe to the Omnian religion. I should be... elsewhere. This, leisure as a reward for a life of toil... I don’t need a reward, and I never wanted one. I like toil.”

“Well, pal, this doesn’t exactly happen often...” Gabriel mutters, and just!

Yeah. I absolutely die over Gabriel staring at this little dead guy as he fucking just. Reaches over and tidies paperwork on Gabriel’s desk, like it’s nothing, because he just... That’s what he does!

Everyone: Gabriel you can’t just keep a pet human, even if he’s dead

Gabriel: but he just looked so sad!

Although woe betide poor Aziraphale if he has fucking Drumknott organising Gabriel’s day, jeeze. 

[goodgriefwhatanerd]

An incomplete list of notable moments in the long, happy, blessedly uneventful lives of the UU lads

Bickering over the proper cataloguing system for rocks.

Shock and amazement when it’s discovered that the quiet little Professor of Thaumogeology knows more dirty songs than anyone else there thanks to training under Nanny Ogg before coming to the university.

Rowan misses cheese potato just like father used to make and takes it upon himself to cook it. Rincewind wanders in during the process and considers proposing on the spot.

Is this a date or a group outing? Nobody knows (occurs at least once a month)

A very awkward conversation stemming from Rincewind being oblivious to gender things and Rowan kind of assuming he was aware. Mostly awkward because due to this, said conversation happened in bed.

Rincewind coming along on Rowan’s Hogswatch trip back home to cover for the local witches. It’s uncertain if meeting Granny Weatherwax or Nanny Ogg is worse.

The whole football debacle, including A Look passing between Professor Surname Pending and Professor Macarona over the sheltered innocent UU natives. And celebratory kisses.

Haircuts, catching up and gossip at Conina’s.

Pride parades come to Ankh Morpork, along with Letitia, Darleen and Nielette. They bond with Rowan over Rincewind’s obliviousness. Prancing Queen is sung very badly with great enthusiasm at an unholy time of morning.

The senior faculty do not notice Rincewind and Rowan’s wedding rings for several years. Any objections are quashed by Archchancellor Ridcully’s complete lack of interest in hearing them.

[pratchettpatricianpages]

Ridcully’s jaw dropped. “Six thousand miles? By magic? Do you know how hard that is?”

“I cherish my ignorance on the subject,” said Lord Vetinari.

“Besides,” Ridcully went on, “they’re, well… foreign over there. I thought they had enough wizards of their own.”

“I really couldn’t say.”

“We don’t know why they want this wizard?”

“No. But I’m sure there is someone you could spare. There seems to be such a lot of you down there.”

“I mean, it could be for some terrible foreign purpose,” said Ridcully. For some reason the face of the Dean waddled across his mind, and he brightened up. “They might be happy with a great wizard, do you think?” he mused.

“I leave that entirely to you. But by tonight I would like to be able to send back a message saying the Great Wizzard is duly on his way. And then we can forget about it.”

“Of course, it would be very hard to bring the chap back,” said Ridcully. He thought of the Dean again. “Practically impossible,” he added, in an inappropriately happy way. “I expect we’d try for months and months without succeeding. I expect we’d attempt everything with no luck. Damn it.”

“I can see you are agog to rise to the challenge,” said the Patrician. “Let me not detain you from rushing back to the University and putting measures in hand.”

-Interesting Times, Terry Pratchett

[discworldtour]

“Try my left pocket,” said Ridcully, when they were well aloft. “There’s something that belongs to you, I believe.” Nervously, well aware of what a wizard’s pocket might hold, Vimes pulled out a bunch of paper flowers, a string of flags of all nations... and a silver cigar case. “Landed on the Bursar’s head,” said the Archchancellor, steering around a seagull. “I hope it’s not damaged.” “It’s... fine,” said Vimes. “Thank you. “Er... I’ll put it back for now, shall I? Don’t seem to have any pockets on me at the moment.” It found its way back, Vimes thought. We’re home. “And a suit of ornamental armor landed in the High Energy Magic building,” Ridcully went on, “and, I am happy to report, it is--” “Very badly bent out of shape?” said Vimes. Ridcully hesitated. He was well aware of Vimes’s feelings of gilt. “Excessively, your grace. Completely bent out of shape because of quantum thingummies, I suspect,” he said.

-- the gilt puns continue | Terry Pratchett, Night Watch

I wonder about Ridcully and Vimes a lot. They barely interact in the books but they always seem friendly when they do and Ridcully is the only person I can think of besides Fred Colon and Sybil who ever calls Vimes “Sam.” How long have they known each other?

[wendynerdwrites]

A Notable Bi-Magical Union

My contribution to @jonxsansafanfiction‘s Twelve Days of Shipping. 

Dec 30th Hogwarts or Magic Au ❖ Bed Sharing Trope 

Because I’m me, I went with a Discworld AU with Jon as an Unseen University Professor, Sansa as a Witch and Nac Mac Feegle Hag/Duchess, featuring Arya as a Fairy Godmother, witch, and wizard. To stay true to Sir Terry’s writing style, this includes footnotes which will be designated by asterisks. 

Beware: Utter farce, drunk pictsies, and the Stark sisters being ALL OF THE EXTRA below:

The Ankh-Morpork Times had run its first engagement announcement in the liner notes of the ‘Society’ Section in the year of the Mongoose, an act which kick-started a trend among the aspiring aristocrats of the city to declare the impending nuptials of their sons and daughters through the press, paying a modest fee to see their children’s names in small print. These announcements were restrained to small blurbs of no more than fifty words apiece, as there was only so much any writer was willing to do for ten pence and two delusional strangers. The founding editors of the Times, William de Worde and Miss Sacharissa Cripslock, had Views on the matter of publicizing one’s private life (these Views, coincidentally, were the same reason that Miss Cripslock refused to be addressed as Mrs. de Worde).

The Society pages of the Times were usually more concerned with public events and exhibitions than people and whatever nonsense they got up to with their Favors. Even the marriage of the Right Honorable Samuel Vimes II, son of Their Graces Ser Samuel Vimes and Lady Sybil Ramkin Vimes, the Duke and Duchess of Ankh, to Princess Tiffany With Two F’s Please Don’t Say This Part Aloud Oh Bugger of Lancre* got the same space as Miss Muffy Butcher and Mr. Jiminy Stronginthearm.

There was one wedding, however, which even the intractable de Worde-Cripslocks admitted was newsworthy enough to earn a proper article.

“Notable Bi-Magical Union! Acting Wizard Legally Marries Witch!”

This was deemed newsworthy for three reasons.

The first was that by law and custom, acting Wizards (with few exceptions) were celibate, as certain accidents of wizarding genetics had a tendency to… snowball. An eighth son of an eighth son (or, in one accidental case, an eighth child of an eighth son) was an automatic wizard. The eighth son of an eighth son of an eighth son was a global catastrophe colloquially known as a Sourcerer. Thus, if a wizard did take it upon himself to wed, he was required to surrender his staff and magic to the Unseen University and retire.

Professor Jon Snow, DThau., DMS., DCM., and Her Grace Lady Sansa Tully-Whent**, Duchess of Genua, Hag o’ the Waters***, received a special dispensation for the marriage from Archchancellor Lannister for a whole other newsworthy reason: that being that they, along with the Her Grace’s sister, had rescued the Main Continent from a hoard of dragons and Ice Demons led by the bastard son of the Wintersmith and the Disc’s first ever Sourceress.

The third reason this event was deemed relevant had to do with the events of the wedding itself. The Duchess, mindful of the historic significance of the occasion, had reportedly summoned over four dozen witches from all across the main continent and employed over a thousand Pictsies, gnomes, and golems in order to create the perfect magical wedding. The Archchancellor himself was to officiate the ceremony, which would consist of over an hour of ancient rituals from nearly every major nation of the Main Continent, for the purposes of cultural sensitivity. The bride was to fly down the aisle on her broomstick, which had been refurbished and gilded with white gold, sapphires, and opals by the dwarves of Uberwald, who had also crafted over fifty ornate centerpieces for the reception. The gown had a thirty-foot train of Klatchian silk.

Professor Snow, rarely seen wearing anything but his severe black robe and hat, agreed to all of this on the condition that he not be required to take the courtesy title of “Duke of Genua” upon their marriage.

Unfortunately for the bride, things did not quite go as planned. The Duchess’s sister, Dr. Arya Tully-Whent, DThau., DMn., DMS., BEIL., F.G, was a notable bi-magical union in her own right, being only the second woman in history to master Wizarding magic and attend the Unseen University, a reluctant witch, and, thanks to her guardian’s sense of irony****, a most reluctant fairy godmother.

The good Dr. Arya was the Maid of Honor  and tasked with following her sister on her own broom and carrying a portion of the bride’s train. Prior to the wedding, the Duchess made the mistake of enchanting her sister’s broom to sprout roses. The furious wizard proceeded to attempt to undo the spell as they flew down the aisle of U.U’s Great Hall, resulting in a mishap in which the bride’s skirts burst into violet and emerald flames. A panic erupted, more as a result of the “help” the bride received from her guests. Many of which, unfortunately, were witches and wizards. The Great Hall of the University erupted in blasts of stray magic.

The Duchess was thankfully unharmed, having the good sense to avoid spells altogether and simply tear off her skirts and fly towards the nearest mop-bucket, which she immediately had to empty onto her bridegroom, who had been struck by a poorly-cast Luthsome’s UN-cinerater. By the time most of the guests fled and the ash and thaumaturgy had settled, the Great Hall was in a shambles and the Duchess’s once-glorious Klatchian silk gown had been reduced to what amounted to some conveniently-placed bandages.

Dr. Arya chose this moment to start another fire, this one smaller and more contained, at the center of the Hall. She then grabbed her dazed sister and brother-in-law by the wrists and rushed them towards the flames, yelling, “Leap, Knave! Jump, Whore! Be married now forevermore!”

The Times was lucky enough that their Chief Iconographer, Otto Chriek, was there at precisely the right moment to capture the happy moment. The Duchess had envisioned a more elegant public wedding portrait. She was later crowned ‘Best Legs on The Disc’ by Ankh-Morpork Masculine on the basis of the image, an honor which became less dubious to her when she continued to receive fan-mail from gentleman admirers well into her golden years. She was spared some humiliation at the reception, when her loyal Pictsie Companions decided to steal everyone else’s clothes and present the garments to their beloved Hag. The entire affair would go down in history and legend as “The Nude Wedding.”*****

For her part, the Duchess got revenge on her sister by casting a new spell on Arya’s broom to sprout roses, daffodils, lilies, hyacinths, and azaleas. Arya took her vehicle to every broom-maker and magical authority on the Disc and never managed to reverse it. To her extreme annoyance, she eventually earned the nickname ‘The Flower Fairy.’

Even well after their literally-explosive wedding, the marriage of Professor Snow and Her Grace attracted plenty of interest and attention from the gossips of the Disc. Professor Snow had famously refused to cast the final anti-sourcery sequence during the Battle for the Dawn until Archchancellor Lannister granted him a dispensation to wed the Duchess******.

The passion the two had for each other was mystery on its own to those who took interest in such things, as they were deemed ‘ill suited’ for one another. The Duchess had inherited her position in Genua from her elderly Aunt, the Baroness Ella Saturday. Not content with being a mere ‘Baroness’, she had herself upgraded within the peerage to the rank of Duchess. She was known as a passionate supporter of artists and up-and-coming magical talent, eventually starting the Genua Home for Magical Ladies, a halfway house for displaced witches, and a high-profile advocate of Female Dwarf Awareness. Under her rule, Genua became the art and fashion capital of The Disc.

Professor Snow, on the other hand, was a student of the legendary Ponder Stibbons, the founder of the University’s High Energy Magical Department. He’d received his basic education in the Assassin’s Guild as one of the charity cases, but declined his Black Syllabus on the basis of it being “Too Posh” and transferred to the University instead. After acquiring his Doctorate in Thaumaturgy, he was granted a Professorship in the field of Magical Avoidance. While professors at the Unseen University were famous for acquiring the body mass index of an adolescent whale, Professor Snow was one of the few faculty who could keep up with the hunting schedule of the resident ghost of the late Archchancellor Ridcully, and was Captain of U.U.’s official Foot-the-Ball team. Under his leadership, the school’s team gained its first legal win.

The two had met through Arya, and no one knows exactly where it went from there. Only that on three separate occasions at three separate society functions, Professor Snow was caught hiding beneath the Duchess’s voluminous gowns.*******

Furthermore, despite the great pains the two went to in order to wed, they lived surprisingly separate lives, mostly visiting one another on the weekends, flying back and forth between Genua and Ankh-Morpork. Despite this, the two managed to produce six daughters and were known to openly adore each other. When asked about the secrets of their success on their sixtieth wedding anniversary, Professor Snow replied, “Distance, affection, and very big skirts.”

*Youngest Sister of Queen Esmeralda Margaret Note Spelling I of Lancre

**Daughter of Catelyn Tully-Whent, who was Daughter of Minisa Whent. Witches aren’t really interested in their male forebears.

***The Duchess was the official witch or ‘Hag’ of the Genuan Clan of the Nac Mac Feegle. Despite the seemingly incompatible personalities of Her Grace and the Pictsies, she is credited as mastering the dreaded arts of “the crossin’ o’ the arms”, “the tappin’ of the feets”, and ‘“the knowin’ of the speakin’”. She was affectionately referred to as ‘The Fancy Hag’ by the Disc’s population of Feegle in general before eventually ascending to senior witch status as a ‘Hag o’ Hags.’

****Said Guardian was the Tully-Whents’ elderly aunt, the Baroness Ella Saturday, who had helped raise the girls after their parents’ death. Both girls were witches and their similarities ended there. Sansa had always yearned to be a magical fairy godmother and noblewoman. Arya, on the other hand, wanted to be a wizard and the next “Hag” to Genua’s Clan of Nac Mac Feegle. The Baroness, who had no small amount of experience with witches and fairy godmothers, arranged in her will for the girls to get some of what they wanted, but mostly what they needed. Arya got to go to the Unseen University and study under her idol Eskarina Smith. However, instead of being designated as the next ‘Hag o’ The Waters’, she was left the recovered Fairy Godmother’s wand instead. Sansa, as the elder sister, did inherit rule of Genua, but that also came with the deed to the Nac Mac Feegle’s mound, making her the new Hag (Hag being the Feegle term for ‘witch’). Thus it happened that in the annals of history, the tomboyish, staff-wielding Arya eventually became known as The Flower Fairy, while ladylike, delicate, class-conscious Sansa ascended to the revered position of ‘Hag o’ Hags’

***** “I wish,” sighed many a reader of Ankh-Morpork Masculine.

****** In order to ensure that the dispensation was honored, the dispensation was drafted by Her Grace’s clan of Feegles, for whom the concepts of law and the written word are weapons. It is a good idea "neever te sign a feegle contract; six inch high people write verra small print".

*******The Duchess’s dresses, and their thick, heavy skirts would acquire a legend of their own. It has been speculated that Her Grace popularized the trend of “poofy” skirts for the express purpose of having a place to hide her husband, who had been caught beneath them twice during the War for the Dawn and at at least three different foot-the-ball games. So frequent were these incidents that it became a running joke among the UU student body to reply to any inquiry about the Professor’s whereabouts to “check the Duchess’s skirts.” Others claim she kept to the seemingly-impractical style in order to house her Feegle companions, who she’d unleash upon any guests she found distasteful. The most famous incident involving her use of the Feegles in this manner was during a ball in Genua, when Lord Rust was overheard making a bigoted comment about Her Grace inviting goblins to the event and referring to the dwarf guests as ‘Lawn Ornaments’. The Duchess demanded an apology and, when that was refused, lifted her hemline and cried out “Alrae, Lads, gets dis Scuggan Offski!” Lord Rust was allowed to remain in Genua only long enough to collect all of his teeth.

[sator-the-wanderer]

Other part I recall from my May 25th AU. Hughnon somehow gets captured for breaking curfew, so Ridcully and (a first, reluctant) Henry team up to save him. Henry is all too happy to throw fireballs despite the seriousness. Hugh is shaken up even after they rescue him. The gatekeepers of the UU want to deny Hugh entry as a non-wizard, but Ridcully changes their minds very quickly with the business end of his crossbow. The main trio then holes up in Ridcully's dorm.

Wow I would read the hell out of this book. Your concept are so adventurous!

You should write a fanfic!

[siverwrites]

A Not Quite Magical Mystery

And the other piece born of @alia-mael ‘s prompt for a Discworld/Ghost Trick crossover.

Major spoiler for Ghost Trick.

Other piece here: Patrol

These were both so much fun even though Discworld makes me nervous to touch. And now I’ve gone and tackled Stibbons who I’ve never even considered writing for before.

Taking prompts

Each of Ponder’s days in the High Energy Magic building started – start time variable – with a thorough checkup of Hex. This particular day happened to begin in the early morning in an unusual and rare occurrence. Everything looked well, until he found a sheet left out and he had to stop in puzzlement at what he saw.

+++ Yy +++

And below that in wobbly lettering that brought to mind a young child there was:

Yy

+++ Correct. Oo +++

Oo.

+++ Correct. Mm +++

Mm

And so it continued down to and including Ll.

‘Yomiel’. Strange. Ponder knew Yomiel’s writing now and while it left something to be desired in neatness, it was also a sight better than that of some of his colleagues who seemed to think that being indecipherable added to the magic, or perhaps it was only a self-defence mechanism against students.

A vague memory nudged at him. Chalkboards and a harried woman. A sense of boredom, mind wandering to more complicated and interesting things. Yes, that’s what this was. It had all the appearances of Hex teaching someone his letters – very specific letters.

It was yet another oddity in the growing list surrounding Yomiel and his cat, Sissel. To his growing concern and against all logic he found himself watching the cat more and more often. It was a well-known fact that the HEM building had odd effects on animals, but the pair hadn’t been here for very long yet. It was possible, he supposed, that Brazeneck College had had a similar effect, yet for all his attempts to quietly get a thaumic reading he saw no sign of magic from the cat.

It all added up to that wonderful mix of excitement, uncertainty and worry – the latter fueled by what he would say to the Archchancellor.

It had been a challenge to get Ridcully to accept Yomiel into their ranks. He was one of Them. He had been in quite a huff until Ponder gently steered him into the idea that Brazeneck took the Dean and Adrian Turnipseed and so it was only fair that they took, or poached, Yomiel into their ranks.

He turned out to be a welcome asset. He previously worked with Pex, which Ponder knew first hand was inferior to their Hex, so he had expected some difficulties in readjusting. Instead Yomiel took to Hex immediately and even suggested some improvements that Ponder could find no fault in.

It was all very refreshing and beneficial. Ponder only wished he could explain the little things that started happening since they arrived and why was Yomiel so insistent on Sissel’s presence?

What purpose did the little black cat have in being here even if the students seemed to have taken a liking to him? Why were objects he was certain were in one place found in another? What of the last magical mishap – an event, after all there was still something to be learned from explosions – that didn’t happen and left them all hiding behind various hopefully sturdy pieces of furniture while a lot of nothing didn’t go up in smoke? What did this sheet left in Hex mean?

And why, Ponder thought as he stared up at Hex, was Sissel sitting on it staring down at him with the most knowing look he had ever seen on a cat?

Ponder wasn’t one to be unnerved. You didn’t last long in the Unseen University let alone the High Energy Magic building if you were easily unnerved (unless your name happened to be Rincewind who was another matter entirely) and any ability to feel so had long been knocked out and trodden on by Ridcully. The cat’s stare brought him close to the borders of that territory.

“Shoo,” he tried futilely. “You shouldn’t be up there.”

Sissel gave him a look that couldn’t be more unimpressed if he tried and jumped down. Ponder reached out. “Good cat… now just back away from the very complicated machine…”

Another flat stare and Sissel abruptly jumped away, knocked a lever and sauntered off. There was a click of a button and Ponder could only watch in dismay as the sheet was sucked into a tube, deposited into a bin and promptly torn to shreds.

He sighed and made a mental note to add some form of check to the whole process. Maybe another bin for things that might be reused.

“He doesn’t like to be touched.”

Ponder turned to see Yomiel had entered the room. He stood, his hands stuffed in the deep pockets of his robes and stared past Ponder at either Hex or Sissel, Ponder couldn’t be sure.

“He was sitting on Hex,” Ponder said stiffly. “You know there are many delicate workings that shouldn’t be disturbed.”

“He won’t hurt anything,” Yomiel replied calmly.

“He already caused a document to be shredded!”

Yomiel raised an eyebrow. “Was it important?”

“Well, no I suppose not, but nevertheless!”

Yomiel’s stare was as impassive as Sissel’s. They belonged to each other all right. Ponder calmed himself. He was getting silly. Everything was fine and Yomiel was right. Sissel hadn’t caused any harm yet.

“I did want to speak to you about the document in question.”

“STIBBONS!”

Ponder and Yomiel both winced at the loud tones of Archchancellor Ridcully’s approach.

“Later,” Ponder sighed.

“I wanted to check on the hive,” Yomiel said.

Ponder nodded and Yomiel made his escape into the next room in time for Ridcully to enter, large, furious and waving a letter.

“The nerve of that man! Would you believe HE has the audacity to accuse us of stealing his faculty?”

“Well, it’s not entirely a lie,” Ponder said.

“HE’s the one who left US!”

“Though Yomiel was very happy to transfer here…” Ponder trailed off. It was clear Ridcully wasn’t listening to a word he said.

“If that traitor hadn’t left he wouldn’t have this problem.” Ridcully huffed and stared about the room before finally focusing on Ponder.

Yes, sometimes Ponder felt as though the former Dean leaving was a sign he had lost all of his faculties. Other times, such as now, in the face of Ridcully’s rage, he thought perhaps it was an unexpected bout of clarity and good sense. 

“How is that Yomiel doing?” Ridcully barked. “Any use to you fellows?”

Ponder grappled with the enormous task of trying to fit the words into a size and shape suitable for the Archchancellor before giving it up as a lost cause. He fell back on the tried and true solution of the on-a-need-to-know basis. Ridcully did not need to know therefore the problem could remain squarely in Ponder’s camp.

“He’s been a great asset. He works well with Hex.”

A smug air descended around Ridcully. “Ha! So we got the better deal here, eh?”

“Yes, Archchancellor,” Ponder said simply. It was easier that way. He didn’t need to know about the attached odd things and as long as nothing worse happened it was all worth it, wasn’t it? Hex appeared to be in excellent hands and the possibility of further scientific discoveries sent a pleasant shiver down Ponder’s spine.

“Hmph. At least that college,” he sneered, “hasn’t let standards completely slip. Though he puts up a poor image of a wizard I must say.”

“Archchancellor?” Now what was the problem?

“His hat, man! What self-respecting wizard goes without his hat? And that hair is ridiculous.”

Ponder had a brief mental image of a hat trying to be fit over said hair before quickly shutting down the thought. “I suppose you could say it’s his hat in spirit,” Ponder tried weakly, regretting the words even as he spoke them. Thankfully, Ridcully already appeared to have switched paths back to the subject of the Dean’s ‘betrayal’.

“He thinks he can get the better of us. Ha. How the crossbow bolt has turned.”

And there was another mental image Ponder would have preferred to avoid.

Ridcully nodded with satisfaction to himself. “Make sure that man stays up to snuff.” He crumpled the letter and turned, stomping out of the room.

Ponder sighed. He needed to come up with some tactics to better handle Ridcully in the many and frequent towering tempers he sustained now.

In the meantime he still had a handful of mysteries here.

Ponder went back to his inspection of Hex. There were no further abnormalities and Sissel was nowhere to be found. The reason for that became apparent when Yomiel entered with the cat on his shoulder.

“One of the combs was clogged and causing a stall,” Yomiel said. “I’ve cleaned it out.”

Ponder nodded thoughtfully. “That’s a problem we need to find a solution for soon. I know it’s not common, but I’d rather it not happen at all.”

“I’ll let you know if I figure something out.”

“In the meantime.” Ponder turned to face Yomiel. “When I came in earlier I found a paper left in Hex with letters spelling out your name. Letters Hex wrote and letters someone else wrote, rather crudely I must say. Do you know anything about that?”

There was a long pause and he was sure Yomiel glanced at Sissel before shrugging. “…I don’t know anything.”

But there’s knowing and knowing, isn’t there?

Your cat is not giving off any magical readings and yet I still think there’s something abnormal about him and no, I can’t explain what, but it would be helpful if you provided some insight, but I know you won’t. So, I will keep investigating with or without your help and I will find out what is going on with you two.

The words all bubbled up quickly, but he remained silent. Yomiel hadn’t been of any help and seemed unlikely to be. There was no sense in putting Sissel on his guard… He let that thought trail off as well. He was worried about putting the cat on guard. Ridiculous. And yet…

“I’m going to take a look at the mouse. I had an idea,” Yomiel said.

“Very well. Go on.”

The HEM building existed for mysteries and now Ponder had one more furry puzzle to piece together.