Rincewind (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wizzardly) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenace2016-02-08 10:11 am
wizzardly) wrote in maskormenace2016-02-08 10:11 am
Entry tags:
- anakin skywalker | darth vader,
- † bill cipher | your lord and master,
- † commander shepard | blasto,
- † dorian gray | n/a,
- † francis urquhart | n/a,
- † frederick chilton | chief of staff!!,
- † ken kaneki | one eyed king,
- † kitty jones | n/a,
- † l'arachel | n/a,
- † lucifer | n/a,
- † mabel pines | n/a,
- † ray kowalski | n/a,
- † rincewind | n/a,
- † sabriel | abhorsen,
- † yuri lowell | n/a
Video; open to Action for Nonah #03 residents
[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.
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.
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...And that on the whole it isn't nearly the glamorous position people make it out to be.
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Yeah, okay- I got it. Sure, the good guys always seem to rope someone else into their antics. I happen to know one and so I almost died a few extra times than I would'a expected. Not that it was for a bad reason, but-
It's only glamorous if you're lucky. [ Apparently he's going to bitch anyway. ]
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Gods, right? There you are at a bar, just minding your own business, and the next thing you know you're halfway 'round the Disc fleeing from one of Ancient Dark Gods you didn't even know existed anymore. D'you know I almost died 27 times in the course of one year? 27. In one year. He counted.
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Anyway, what'd yours do?
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The kinda stuff that's just all too telling of things to come.
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You've got to wonder why we were still around these people, after things like that.
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[ ... Er, well, that's kind of sappy. ] That or it's an addiction.
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Maybe we ought to get ourselves seen to then. I for one would like to put all near-death experiences firmly behind me.
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You got yourself here, right? Away from your hero buddy?
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Do you want to know where I was, right before I came here? Hm? [eyebrows lifted high on his head, gesturing with his wine] Hell. I was literally in Hell.
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You know the Devil's here, right? One of 'em, at least. [ He's the most helpful, always. ]
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But pitchforks and such, yes. Although oddly enough they had done away with the flames while I was there. Something about wanting a "more productive work environment".
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Though yeah, I can definitely see where the fire and brimstone would get in the way of all the paperwork. Cause that's what Hell is, right? Desk job until the end of time.
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Seems to be in mine. At least for a while - I think there was a coup going on. I think I was a part of it, in some way. But - [he waves a hand] Life is depressing enough without thinking about what happens afterwards, right?
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Might as well stick with the shit going on in front of you.
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