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)
maskormenace2016-03-12 09:26 pm
wizzardly) wrote in maskormenace2016-03-12 09:26 pm
Entry tags:
- anakin skywalker | darth vader,
- † anastasya griffin | the necromancer,
- † carl grimes | n/a,
- † cisco ramon | vibe,
- † commander shepard | blasto,
- † dipper pines | n/a,
- † flynn lambert | walter white junior,
- † francis urquhart | n/a,
- † frederick chilton | chief of staff!!,
- † jeff winger | wingman,
- † kaneda shotaro | n/a,
- † keladry of mindelan | lady knight,
- † khada jhin | n/a,
- † kitty jones | n/a,
- † lapis lazuli | n/a,
- † mabel pines | n/a,
- † megan gwynn | pixie,
- † riku | darkeater,
- † rincewind | n/a,
- † santo vaccarro | rockslide,
- † shinya kogami | n/a,
- † tauriel | n/a,
- † yuri lowell | n/a
Video;
[The first thing to come over the feed will be a too-close shot of a handmade sign before the wizard gets the right angle to show his face and the small park behind him in Nonah. He appears to be Unhappy.]
Right, okay, was I not legible enough, do you think? Should I have offered translations? I consider myself rather patient on the whole, but when some idiot - for the third time in two days - takes a clear warning and turns it into an invitation to create the sort of disaster which loses me my job, I get the feeling this blasted sign is doing more harm than good. So let's just make something clear, shall we?
This - [the video shifts for a moment to show a wooden trunk on legs, running full tilt behind him after a few terrified squirrels] - is not a pet! It is certainly not some sort of tame training dummy for empty-headed fighters to test their skills on. It is a monstrosity crafted of sapient pearwood, and when it feels its owner, who happens to be me, is being attacked, it eats people. No stern warnings, no shining letterheads or gentle taps on the shoulder, just death. Maybe missing fingers or a quick trampling, if they're lucky.
Am I making myself clear enough? Try to hurt me, this man right here, and my magical box will murder you, and I will watch.
[a pause.]
...Provided I have not already run away.
[Rincewind nods sharply, then takes off his sign and throws it in a trash can.]
There. I've officially done all I can do, I've said my piece, this is no longer my responsibility. [he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.] Honestly, I don't understand how it was so difficult to understand in the first place. You see a sign telling you not to do something - who then thinks 'Oh, well surely they don't mean that for me?' I swear, no matter where I find myself, it seems I'm always the only sane man arou -
[there's the loud crack of splintering wood and the sound of several screaming members of the rodent family. Rincewind (and the video) looks behind him to see that the Luggage has knocked down a large oak tree in its pursuit of the squirrels. His face drains of color.]
Oh bugger - !
Right, okay, was I not legible enough, do you think? Should I have offered translations? I consider myself rather patient on the whole, but when some idiot - for the third time in two days - takes a clear warning and turns it into an invitation to create the sort of disaster which loses me my job, I get the feeling this blasted sign is doing more harm than good. So let's just make something clear, shall we?
This - [the video shifts for a moment to show a wooden trunk on legs, running full tilt behind him after a few terrified squirrels] - is not a pet! It is certainly not some sort of tame training dummy for empty-headed fighters to test their skills on. It is a monstrosity crafted of sapient pearwood, and when it feels its owner, who happens to be me, is being attacked, it eats people. No stern warnings, no shining letterheads or gentle taps on the shoulder, just death. Maybe missing fingers or a quick trampling, if they're lucky.
Am I making myself clear enough? Try to hurt me, this man right here, and my magical box will murder you, and I will watch.
[a pause.]
...Provided I have not already run away.
[Rincewind nods sharply, then takes off his sign and throws it in a trash can.]
There. I've officially done all I can do, I've said my piece, this is no longer my responsibility. [he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.] Honestly, I don't understand how it was so difficult to understand in the first place. You see a sign telling you not to do something - who then thinks 'Oh, well surely they don't mean that for me?' I swear, no matter where I find myself, it seems I'm always the only sane man arou -
[there's the loud crack of splintering wood and the sound of several screaming members of the rodent family. Rincewind (and the video) looks behind him to see that the Luggage has knocked down a large oak tree in its pursuit of the squirrels. His face drains of color.]
Oh bugger - !
voice
...Can I fight your box? I wanna fight your box.
voice
voice
But, I want you to hear me out here, dude.
I really wanna fight your box.
1/2
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[The video function switches on, revealing a smugly grinning seven-ish feet tall rock man sitting on a poor, buckling bed.
He waves.]
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He totally didn't just scream a little.
Except that yes, he did.]You're a troll?
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[this is going to take a moment to puzzle out. The trolls he met certainly didn't talk like this, but they did look quite a lot like him. Rincewind isn't sure he's buying this yet.]
You're saying you... are a human? Technically? Just covered in rocks? [there's a power he's glad he didn't get. Sounds heavy.]
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[And then he suddenly explodes. Into a billion, rocky fragments, bits of stones howering the room he's sitting in. The communicator clatters to the floor.]
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GOOD JOB, "TROLL".]
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He's so smug.]
Oh man, I totally got you!
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You're an absolute bastard! [HIS HEARTRATE, GODDAMN. Is thirty-four too young for a heartattack???]
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[he pulls on the brim of his hat. So offended!!1]
How in the hell did you do that? You can just break apart and come back together?
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Like I said. Complicated.
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...Well clearly you're making excellent use of it. [so. dry.] The life of many a party, I'd imagine.
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At least you don't need a costume. But what's that bit about wrestling?
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I'll still be surprised if they don't try to pull you into the ring yourself. You look rather, er, cut out for it.