Video; open to Action for Nonah #03 residents

[wizzardly]

[This is not Rincewind's first attempt at accessing the network. Shamefully, it's not even his fourth attempt, even after all the helpful advice (which he smiled brightly through and nodded at and didn't listen to at all). Obviously he's managed to get the unfamiliar technology to finally work for him though, as that's definitely his sullen face coming across the imPort channels. He's on the floor of his new room, his back against his bed and his arm slung over a large wooden chest. His broad-brimmed hat proclaims him to be a 'Wizzard'.

He is also, quite obviously, very drunk.]

Right. I think we can all agree that this is absolutely mad, right? And not even - not even all these things that are going 'round doing stuff without any sort of magic or tiny imps painting pictures inside them, that's not even what I'm talking about here, that part I could almost like, since it seems somewhat sensible, the principle of it. ...Although it still isn't, is it, because there's apparently all these powers and such, which totally throws that whole thing about being sensible right out the window. And being handed out like meat-pies or something too, with no thought as to who's getting them. M'sure that's not something that's going to blow up in anyone's face, is it? Probably literally, if I had my guess.

...Right, where was I going with this?

[there's a pause as Rincewind casts about for the tenuous line of focus that brought him here in the first place, and which he's sure to be appropriately horrified he followed when he sobers up tomorrow.

Apparently he finds it again, and slaps his hand (the one not currently holding a bottle of wine) on the wooden trunk for emphasis. The chest lifts its lid some, in grumpy protest.] - Heroes! Heroes, that's what I was getting at - this whole business about people being fished out of their own perfectly good - well, okay, mostly good. Somewhat. ...At least familiar worlds, and then being asked to - to - to do what? Be a hero? I've met heroes, you know, quite more than I'd have liked, and do you know what heroes are?

Dangerous, that's what. [firmly.] Dangerous, utterly reckless madmen, that's what heroes are. People who have as much trouble realizing why you shouldn't go barreling into dark caves full of horrible monsters to get the gold, or rescue the girl, as they do recognizing a good thing when they have it. Which is living. ...Which they risk. ...To be heroes.

But you know the most important thing about them? [he continues, fervently] The most important thing about heroes is that - ! Well, it's that - !

...It's that I'm not one.

[Rincewind quiets, and swipes the sleeve of his robe across his nose with a miserable, dry sniff. He frowns, sighs.] Not that it matters, I suppose. Not that it ever matters.

Comments

[wizzardly]

What? I'm - well, no, I mean - well there's just not a lot of them. ...I have met one or two. [thoughtfully.] Cohen's daughter was rather good at it, I suppose, although she also rather resented it. Was more interested in being a hairdresser.

...Sorry, why are you angry about this?

[rathercommon]

[ She clucks her tongue in irritation. ]

Because being active, doing things, taking agency, oughtn't be a gendered narrative!

[wizzardly]

[he doesn't quite understand... any of that. So he latches onto the part he does.]

Er. I don't think anyone's saying you can't be active. Or do things. ...Don't understand why you'd want to, but I'm certainly not holding you back. If you... thought I was. Did you?

[rathercommon]

Well, no. Obviously I'm not talking about myself. I do what I want to. But these dominant narratives - they get used by people to shape their paths through life. By just repeating this trope of, oh, heroes are men, that discourages those outside the normal narrative from even trying.

[ A beat. ]

Not that they ought to try. Heroics are quite stupid. But everyone should have the equal right to be stupid, I say.

[wizzardly]

...Well I don't know anything about your dominant or not-dominant trope things, but I'm glad we agree on that last part. The heroics being stupid, I mean. And I might be a lot more sensitive about their right to be that dumb if they didn't always end up dragging innocent bystanders into it.

[rathercommon]

I'm guessing you're one of these innocent bystanders?

[wizzardly]

Absolutely. 'That Rincewind fellow, he's the most innocent man I've ever seen stand by anything, he is'. That's what people say about me, when they aren't giving me creative nicknames like 'Stop him!' or 'Don't let him get away!'

...Who am I talking to, anyway?

[rathercommon]

Kitty Jones. Pleasure. Does that mean you're a thief, then?

[wizzardly]

Kitty? S'a bit of an odd name, isn't it?

Only if snatching my life out of Death's skeletal hands counts.

[rathercommon]

What, and Rincewind's a normal one, is it? Anyway, if you're not a criminal, why are people always bellowing at you to stop?

[wizzardly]

Fine, fine, point taken. Was just wondering if that's the sort of thing people are called around this dimension. [airily, taking another drink from the bottle.] Could be a whole world full of people named after animals, how am I to know?

Generally so they can kill me in some sort of imaginative and terrible way. I try not to make it a habit of hanging about to ask.

[rathercommon]

[ A little sigh. ]

It's a nickname. My real name is Kathleen. Don't call me that, though. Anyway. Why would they want to kill you?

[wizzardly]

You're starting to make it sound as though there's got to be a reason. Those are the sorts of questions you stop asking, when you've got a life like mine. Personally, I think Fate's got it out for me. He's a right prick when he wants to be.

[a thought occurs.] - Hey, was it true, what that intimidating woman said in the beginning? Did everyone I'm talking to on this thing get dragged in from somewhere else?

[rathercommon]

What? Oh - yeah. That's true.

[wizzardly]

...Don't suppose you've known anyone saying they're from Ankh-Morpork, have you? Or even just - just from around the Circle Sea would do. Or the Disc in general?

Where are you from, come to think of it?

[rathercommon]

Erm - London. Don't suppose you've heard of it. I've not heard of any of your places, I'm afraid.

[wizzardly]

[he deflates some. Well, he'd known it was a long shot.]

No, I didn't really think you had. "London" doesn't sounds like anywhere I know either. Not that it would, since you don't even know about the Disc. ...Was it nice, there? Do you miss it?

[rathercommon]

[ A short, sharp, humorless laugh. ]

It was ruled by a repressive oligarchy of magicians who derived their power from enslaving an entire species. Commoners like me had no rights whatsoever. It's rather better here.

[ And then she runs her hand through her hair and gentles a bit. ]

What about you? How many days have you been here, now?

[wizzardly]

Oh. Well. Er. Yes, I suppose it would be.

[for a moment he looks pretty awkward. That... sounds rather uncomfortably like what almost happened in his world. Came very close to it, actually.]

Oh, about... two days, now? I think? I expect you've been here a little longer.

[rathercommon]

Yeah. A bit over a year.

Are you doing okay? You seem like...you're...sort of coping.

[wizzardly]

If that's what you call drinking, because yes, I'm definitely sort of doing that. [with a smarmy little smile, shaking the bottle. It's nearly empty.]

You're welcome to join in, if you're in the neighborhood. I've got a few more bottles in The Luggage. Some man just gave them to me for agreeing to let him use his iconograph to take pictures of it.

[rathercommon]

Oh. Erm - If you'd like, I'll certainly get drinks with you somewhere.

[ But just going over to some guy's house and drinking his stuff? Sounds like a bad idea. Even if he does seem like a vaguely sweet mess. ]

[wizzardly]

[he quirks an eyebrow, catching the hesitation]

You don't have to, of course. I didn't mean anything by it, was just offering.

[rathercommon]

No, just -

[ She bites her lip, a little embarrassed. ]

You know. We don't know each other so much. All that. I always like meeting people in public first. No offense meant, really.

[wizzardly]

[it occurs to him, suddenly, that she means she was just being cautious. Of him. The idea that anyone could look at Rincewind and think to be cautious is so foreign to him that it never crossed his mind. He looks genuinely shocked.]

Oh, oh - no, yeah, I see what you mean. Still a stranger, and going 'round to people's homes you don't know, 'specially being - well, I mean, right. That's smart of you, being careful. - I'd do the same thing, in your shoes.