|
Post by Ponder Stibbons on Mar 9, 2012 23:59:31 GMT
"You have an appointment with Lord Vetinari."
The words were almost infamous, and the last thing Ponder Stibbons had ever expected was for them to be directed at him. The black coach had pulled up outside the university's gates at precisely nine that morning, and the rather bewildered wizard had been bundled into it. Upon arrival at the palace, he'd been escorted through the foyer and shunted off down a long hall in the general direction of a room where he had been instructed to wait.
The Patrician's palace was silent as a tomb-- and vaguely resembled one as well, he couldn't help but note. It wasn't that he had a great deal of experience when it came to mausoleums, or that the palace's motif was overly grim. Honestly, it didn't seem to have one at all, and if it did, it was one of muted colors and spartan simplicity. It was all the marble that brought a cemetery to mind, really-- and by now he'd lost track of the analogy and was only giving himself a headache.
Discarding the train of thought entirely, the wizard tried his best to piece a new one together, one that didn't involve idle speculation as to his presence here, but failed miserably and soon found his mind treading that path with a sort of spiteful glee, dredging up all sorts of unpleasant ideas.
It can't be about what happened last week. No one knows about what happened last week.
He struggled to assure himself. He'd set it to rights within minutes, recalibrated HEX immediately, and gone to great pains to make sure there was no harm done-- there hadn't been (With the exception of all of Ankh-Morpork's dairy products being a bit, er, off for a day or two afterwards).
Even if he does know, there's nothing to worry about. Wanton-but-unintentional-cruelty to lactose isn't a hanging offense.
He tugged at the brim of his hat anxiously and drew the folder that he'd absently carried out with him closer to his chest, suddenly intent upon smoothing the wrinkles from his rumpled gray robe. Between worrying himself senseless and picking every last mysterious strand of cat fur from his garments, he'd neglected to watch where he was going and paid for the oversight dearly when he collided with someone. Staggering backwards, he landed on his rear, papers flew every which way, his glasses skittered off into a corner, and he was left blinking muzzily up at the suddenly indistinct figure.
"Er, I'm terribly..."
He went only so far before he trailed off, because the blurry frame before him was slender and dark. Try as he might, Ponder couldn't shake the oddly terrifying notion that he might have collided with the Patrician himself.
"--Terribly... sorry."
He finally finished, voice petering off into nothing.
|
|
|
Post by Lady Margolotta von Überwald on Mar 10, 2012 10:43:11 GMT
...tic toc tic...
Lady Margolotta yawned, lowering the copy of Ankh-Morpork Times beside her. Her ladyship had spent the last hour in the Patrician's waiting-room, reading the morning newspapers. Of course, Margolotta wasn't actually waiting for anyone or anything in particular, she had merely been in need of a quiet place, where she could read without being disturbed.
..tictoctic...toc... the clock continued and Margolotta arched an eyebrow, giving it a sideways glance. She had inquired, once or twice, about the clock, but his lordship refused to tell her where and from whom he had obtained it. The irregular tic-tocing was supposed to drive the unfortunate listener nearly insane, turning their brain into 'a sort of porridge', but Margolotta actually found it quite relaxing. It would add a nice touch to her chintz salon back home.
Anyway, it was nine o'clock in the morning and Margolotta was usually fast asleep by that time. Her more or less frequent visits to Ankh-Morpork had proved to be enjoyable and interesting, but rather tiring at the same time. She was, after all, a nocturnal creature and she usually slept when the daylight was strongest. The trouble was that events and activities in Ankh-Morpork, at least the legal and socially acceptable ones, took place in the daylight. Several sleepless days in a row affected even the strongest vampires.
Margolotta stood up and walked out of the room, casting a quick glance at the door which lead to the Oblong office before she left. Havelock was expecting someone, probably Downey and the other heads of the guilds and she didn't want to be there when they came. Margolotta didn't like lord Downey and she was well aware that the feeling was mutual. It was amazing how easily one could end up staked, even in the civilised Ankh-Morpork.
Occupied by her thoughts, lady Margolotta was strolling down the corridor. The rustle of her long black dress was the only sound in the empty corridor. Even the servants seemed to be avoiding her, for some strange reason. Her ladyship did have a strange effect on people. She had been working on it for decades. Margolotta yawned again. She was very very tired. A drowsy vampire was a sight to behold. Had she not been so tired and sleepy, lady Margolotta would have heard the footsteps coming her way and she would have reacted in time to avoid the person who collided into her.
Her ladyship let out a small surprised cry and staggered backwards, slamming into a wall. Margolotta opened her mouth to protest, swear or just yell, but the moment her eyes focused on the figure sitting on the floor before her, her eyebrows raised and the corner of her lips curved slightly. It wasn't too hard for her to recognise Mister Stibbons, the youngest and probably the only sane member of the Unseen University faculty. She carefully approached the young wizard, tilting her head to the side slightly as she observed him.
Wizards didn't usually leave the university, unless invited to a feast; she knew that much about the Ankh-Morpork wizards. However, Stibbons looked as though he hadn't had a decent meal for ages. And what would any wizard be doing in the Patrician's palace? The realisation dawned on her - the Patrician had summoned him. Then, another question emerged - why would Havelock need the services of a wizard? Well, there was only one way to find out...
"Apology accepted." she finally said, giving the poor creature a radiant smile.
|
|
|
Post by Ponder Stibbons on Mar 19, 2012 1:41:54 GMT
Ponder could hear the soft click of heels on tile as whoever it was strode forward, and when the figure spoke at last, the voice-- much to the wizard's relief-- was distinctly female. Not the Patrician, then, but the possible alternatives were just as unsettling.
He rose to his feet as much as was possible with his legs tangled in his robes, and with one hand gripping the wall for guidance, the other fumbling across the floor aimlessly, shuffled along the far edge of the blurry corridor until he located his glasses.
He returned them to their proper place, glanced up, and promptly froze. A quite distinctive vampiress stood a foot or two away, examining him with a bright, fanged smile spread across her lips. It took little more than a glance to recognize her, although the instant he had, he rather wished that he hadn’t; the victim of his brief lapse in attention was none other than the Lady von Überwald.
He knew of her, but only in the most general of terms, which admittedly amounted to a scarce handful of information and a great deal of rumor-- but did anyone know anything beyond that? As far as Ponder could gather, she and the Patrician were birds of a feather in that aspect, among others.
The sheepishly apologetic expression the wizard wore quickly dissolved, replaced by a look that was rather owlish-- if the owl in question had just been bludgeoned with some sort of terribly heavy object.
“Your Ladyship. Er.”
He scrabbled for even the vaguest inkling of a proper response, and unable to form one, hastily ducked and began gathering the scattered contents of his folder from the floor.
|
|
|
Post by Lady Margolotta von Überwald on Mar 21, 2012 1:43:16 GMT
Margolotta was genuinely amused by Ponder's behaviour and his facial expression. Her smile, however, slowly faded, turning into a look of mild, yet polite interest. Margolotta was actually fascinated with the concept of the modern wizard; there weren't any of them in Überwald, the climate didn't suit them and there probably wasn't enough food in entire Bonk to keep them happy for longer than a fortnight. What impressed her the most, was the fact that Havelock allowed them to peacefully co-exist with other more useful groups in his city. Perhaps that was the civilised way to deal with things?
Young Stibbons, on the other hand, was different. Far more capable and intelligent than his superiors, but still quite clumsy and a bit confused. Well, wizards weren't actually known for being particularly capable of communicating with women, especially if the woman in question was a foreign vampire politician and a particularly close friend of the current tyrant of the city. The boy could hardly be blamed for being cautious. Pink jumpers, chocolate biscuits and sweet smiles didn't really work, no matter how hard she tried.
"Oh, Mister Stibbons." she spoke, carefully setting her accent to sound as vampirish as possible. "Szuch a surprise to szee you here." Margolotta moved a step closer to the wizard. "Let me help you viz zat..." she said gently, waving a hand. The rest of the contents of his folder slowly and returned back to their proper place.
|
|
|
Post by Ponder Stibbons on Mar 27, 2012 22:42:29 GMT
Ponder had been shuffling pages of his rumpled notes back into some semblance of order when the vampiress's voice, thick with Überwaldian accent, (Complete with the familiar Vs replacing Ws and Zs substituted for Ts) drifted toward him-- the remainder of the papers followed shortly, flapping softly in the quiet hall.
He really had no right to think so, not as a wizard, but there was something rather eerie about the way they neatly fluttered back into place.
On the other hand, it was kind of her, and very, very efficient-- that, he could certainly appreciate. As Ponder-esque as ever, he couldn’t help but wonder how he could replicate the effect. Finnblaugh’s Thaumic Float spliced with a suitable organization spell, perhaps?
"Ah.. right. Thank you."
He stood up, hat slightly askew, tucked the haphazardly-packed folder under one arm, and offered her a smile. It was a bit sheepish, granted, but he seemed to have recovered from his earlier faltering panic.
"...I trust your Ladyship is well?"
The wizard politely ventured.
[/size]
|
|
|
Post by Lady Margolotta von Überwald on Mar 31, 2012 19:57:19 GMT
Margolotta sighed, with her gaze still fixed on young wizard. Wizards were so predictable... and so were humans in general. And vampires, she had to admit that rather reluctantly. Her kind dwelt on old clichés and even without consuming 'zer b-vord' they were simply unable or unwilling to adjust to modern times. Old habits unfortunately did die hard.
While the papers flew to return to their place, Margolotta managed to catch a glimpse of a complicated diagram. She had no idea what it was, but it made her even more curious. If Havelock was up to something, she had to learn what it was; especially if it included wizards and magical diagrams. Margolotta for a brief moment contemplated the idea of starting a wizarding school in Bonk. It was a very brief moment and very stupid idea. It simply wouldn't work. Besides, it was much more fun to play with Havelock's wizards if you needed them. It was similar to playing Thud!, only with bigger figures. Why would anyone need blood when you had politics?
"My pleasure. Margolotta said and gave him a small smile, not showing her fangs this time. It was still a rather feline smile, but hopefully a less intimidating one. "Very vell, indeed." she continued. "I vonder vhat a busy person like yourself" she spoke again, as innocently as she could manage. "could be doink here at szuch a late hour... I meant szo early in zer morning?" The vampiress let out a brief laugh and once again focused her intense gaze on the wizard.
|
|