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yakalskovich) wrote2004-09-14 06:02 pm
yakalskovich) wrote2004-09-14 06:02 pm
Drabblage
With this, my riddle is closed. One, I can't really remember any more from whose lists the remaining new interests came, as I didn't write it down at the time, and added the competition just as an afterthought. Being no Tomjon (and quite happy about that!), my memory turns a bit hazy after more than a day. Secondly, with so many already claimed and acknowledged, it would become unfair to those who guessed first.
If I see it turning up anywhere else, I will gleefully participate, of course! It helps to understand each other so much better.
[/fencepost waving]
And I now have the rough outlines of seven drabbles jotted down on a double page in Zer Handbook, and that should keep me occupied. As I was telling Ashie, I need to write soon before my inspiration runs dry, and if I'd accept any more drabble subjects, my inspiration would run dry before I'd finished with it all, and that's when I start accumulating daunting backlogs.
That said, of course there are two more drabbles owed: Lily and Madelyne, claim your prize at your own convenience when youcan think of something you want to see written.
And now, on to the drabbles. They are both about![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ponderstibbons, who is after all the centre and hub node of our RPG -- apart from the fact that all the RPers love him to bits...
First, a drabble about Angua meeting Ponder, forgaiamyles
Dogs
Dogs have their own schedules and rhythms and agendas. They have their own rituals and their own language. Ponder Stibbons was slowly learning this as his beautiful white dog Jospehine and he got used to each other.
Josephine wagging her tail means 'I like you.' Josephine scratching at the door means 'I want to go outside.' Josephine bringing him a toy means 'I want to play.' If she brings him her bowl, she wants to be fed. Other dogs sniffing Josephine's bottom isn't incredibly rude, as he'd originally thought, but simply their way of seeing who she is.
So, tonight, after his beautiful and discerning luxury dog had been suitably fed and played with, she scratched at the door. So he opened it for her. She turned around and brought her leash. So he put it on and, sighing, went with her.
The streets of Ankh-Morpork aren't the safest place to be at night, but if a wizard, recognisable by his pointy hat, and a large dog turn up, even licensed thieves think twice. Ponder is oblivious to any danger from that quarter; Victor "walking him home" from some evening out is more like a ruse they try believing in themselves, not actually a safety precaution.
And the only creature they meet is, after all, another dog. A tall, golden wolfhound, even bigger than Josephine, and with a wild intelligence in its eyes that would have worried Ponder if he were alone but that now, with Josephine, just make him all the more curious. Nor does he shoo the other dog away when Josephine sniffs its bottom, and the golden-haired stranger reciprocates. Not is he disconcerted at all when the other dog comes to him, tail wagging, to be touched on the head and spoken to kindly; she probably just wants to say hello to Josephine's human. He isn't even embarrassed anymore at recognising that the other dog is a 'she' at all.
"Aren't you a beauty," he says to the golden creature, awkwardly rummaging in his pocket for a treat.
Dog biscuits, he had learned, are quite unlike biscuits for humans, and partly made with ground-up bits of dried animal that even C.M.O.T. Dibbler wouldn't put in his sausages. But unfit as they are for human consumption, dogs love the stuff as much as he himself could ever love custard pies.
He gives a treat to the golden wolfhound, and she swallows it gracefully, looking up at Ponder again and wagging her tail in gratitude. Ponder feels as if he were supposed to say something.
"You can come on our walk with Josephine and me" he says, conversationally, even though he knew that dogs only understand a limited set of one- or two-syllable commands, plus their own name even if that was longer - but the shorter, the better. "Ponder" or "Victor", Josephine understands and can distinguish - "Archchancellor" is too much for her.
However, the strange dog follows tamely on his short round with Josephine, now and then accepting another treat, right along with his own dog. She leaves them at the Gate House with a final wag of her tail and a turnabout that is almost a canine shrug.
Ponder thinks no more about her; there are many dogs in the city. The big black dog with the orange eyebrows that hangs out in front of the Post Office worries him far more.
Months later, at the wizards' convivium, he is greeted by a stranger - a woman, and a Sergeant of the City Watch, no less. Ponder isn't really used to women, and not really comfortable around them, apart from Lady Margolotta, who of course isn't as young as this one any more, and a vampire. Sometimes, he even thinks the scullery maids rather frightening.
"Hello, Mr Stibbons", the watchwoman says. She is blond, and probably quite pretty, as far as Ponder can tell. "Taken any strangers for a walk lately?"
"Erm..." Ponder says.
"You carry very god dog biscuits, you know" the watchwoman continues, conversationally.
This is when Ponder remembers that there are rumours about a werewolf in the Watch. He turns bright red, struck by the realisation that dogs are really much more complex than he thought.
And now the second Ponder drabble, as requested byvikitickytembo, Ponder's RPer. She just wanted drabblage about Ponder.
Very Frightening
Because you are very frightening!
Rarely are human thoughts as clear as that. Beth always maintained that he read people, not minds; but in this case, the words hung in the middle of the parlour, slowly drifting apart as if actually written in smoke rings.
Perhaps it was because the one who'd thought them was a wizard, or because his mind was as clear and logical as people around them always claimed it was.
Beth had just asked, rhethorically more than everything, why the dog was afraid of him. It wasn't any old dog; she was a discerning luxury dog, and she belonged to the young wizard, shy but determined, pudgy and sweet, on whose mere whim he himself was only tolerated at the castle. "If you annoy Ponder, you go before you can say 'blood', and I mean it", Margo had said, and the fact she actually spoke the forbidden b-word out loud had the effect of a suden obscenity from a mild-spoken person. "Do what you want, but don't annoy Ponder," Lajos had added, and even if he knew, intellectually, that any number of willing partners and humans enjoying the sup were waiting for him at home if he wanted them, Beth was determined that this one stubborn human wasn't going to deny him his body for ichor or pleasure, not because of that pudgy little wizard - who actually appeared quite tasty and desirable himself.
But the wizard was off-limits, especially as he'd brought his own lover along, a silent, tall, extremely good-looking fellow. Beth had to be content with looking at the two of them in secret, and painting them, walking hand in hand through the sun-flooded summer garden, the dog trotting after them.
He wasn't going to leave things like this. He was not going to be thought of as "very frightening" and be content with it - not from that wizard, infuriating and cute at the same time, that held Beth's future fortunes with that very delectable Captain in his chubby hands and didn't even know it.
So Beth went on a crusade.-
Now, months later, he felt that phrase again. Again, it hung in the air, almost tangible, slowly dispersing like smoke.
Because it's very frightening!
Beth had been talking about the two abandonend mansions and their pictures that he had the key to now, and where they might go the next week on their excursions to the private art collections in Ankh-Morpork. And just as Ponder had said aloud, that other time, "Perhaps she doesn't like what you smell like", now he said "All that dust might turn on my allergies, you know."
And as the unspoken sentence had been a challenge the other time, it was one now. "Don't worry, Ponder, I will be with you, and I'm more frightening than anything that can be there. Allergies will flee before me! I'm supposed to be the monster here!"
"I wish you'd stop calling yourself that" Ponder said, disapproving. "Silly vampire", he added with a smile.
You're really as tame as a kitten, he added, not saying it aloud again. Beth grinned at him, showing his pointy little fangs. Ponder grinned back, a challenge and a reassurance at once.
It was a victory of sorts.
If I see it turning up anywhere else, I will gleefully participate, of course! It helps to understand each other so much better.
[/fencepost waving]
And I now have the rough outlines of seven drabbles jotted down on a double page in Zer Handbook, and that should keep me occupied. As I was telling Ashie, I need to write soon before my inspiration runs dry, and if I'd accept any more drabble subjects, my inspiration would run dry before I'd finished with it all, and that's when I start accumulating daunting backlogs.
That said, of course there are two more drabbles owed: Lily and Madelyne, claim your prize at your own convenience when youcan think of something you want to see written.
And now, on to the drabbles. They are both about
ponderstibbons, who is after all the centre and hub node of our RPG -- apart from the fact that all the RPers love him to bits...First, a drabble about Angua meeting Ponder, for
gaiamylesDogs
Dogs have their own schedules and rhythms and agendas. They have their own rituals and their own language. Ponder Stibbons was slowly learning this as his beautiful white dog Jospehine and he got used to each other.
Josephine wagging her tail means 'I like you.' Josephine scratching at the door means 'I want to go outside.' Josephine bringing him a toy means 'I want to play.' If she brings him her bowl, she wants to be fed. Other dogs sniffing Josephine's bottom isn't incredibly rude, as he'd originally thought, but simply their way of seeing who she is.
So, tonight, after his beautiful and discerning luxury dog had been suitably fed and played with, she scratched at the door. So he opened it for her. She turned around and brought her leash. So he put it on and, sighing, went with her.
The streets of Ankh-Morpork aren't the safest place to be at night, but if a wizard, recognisable by his pointy hat, and a large dog turn up, even licensed thieves think twice. Ponder is oblivious to any danger from that quarter; Victor "walking him home" from some evening out is more like a ruse they try believing in themselves, not actually a safety precaution.
And the only creature they meet is, after all, another dog. A tall, golden wolfhound, even bigger than Josephine, and with a wild intelligence in its eyes that would have worried Ponder if he were alone but that now, with Josephine, just make him all the more curious. Nor does he shoo the other dog away when Josephine sniffs its bottom, and the golden-haired stranger reciprocates. Not is he disconcerted at all when the other dog comes to him, tail wagging, to be touched on the head and spoken to kindly; she probably just wants to say hello to Josephine's human. He isn't even embarrassed anymore at recognising that the other dog is a 'she' at all.
"Aren't you a beauty," he says to the golden creature, awkwardly rummaging in his pocket for a treat.
Dog biscuits, he had learned, are quite unlike biscuits for humans, and partly made with ground-up bits of dried animal that even C.M.O.T. Dibbler wouldn't put in his sausages. But unfit as they are for human consumption, dogs love the stuff as much as he himself could ever love custard pies.
He gives a treat to the golden wolfhound, and she swallows it gracefully, looking up at Ponder again and wagging her tail in gratitude. Ponder feels as if he were supposed to say something.
"You can come on our walk with Josephine and me" he says, conversationally, even though he knew that dogs only understand a limited set of one- or two-syllable commands, plus their own name even if that was longer - but the shorter, the better. "Ponder" or "Victor", Josephine understands and can distinguish - "Archchancellor" is too much for her.
However, the strange dog follows tamely on his short round with Josephine, now and then accepting another treat, right along with his own dog. She leaves them at the Gate House with a final wag of her tail and a turnabout that is almost a canine shrug.
Ponder thinks no more about her; there are many dogs in the city. The big black dog with the orange eyebrows that hangs out in front of the Post Office worries him far more.
Months later, at the wizards' convivium, he is greeted by a stranger - a woman, and a Sergeant of the City Watch, no less. Ponder isn't really used to women, and not really comfortable around them, apart from Lady Margolotta, who of course isn't as young as this one any more, and a vampire. Sometimes, he even thinks the scullery maids rather frightening.
"Hello, Mr Stibbons", the watchwoman says. She is blond, and probably quite pretty, as far as Ponder can tell. "Taken any strangers for a walk lately?"
"Erm..." Ponder says.
"You carry very god dog biscuits, you know" the watchwoman continues, conversationally.
This is when Ponder remembers that there are rumours about a werewolf in the Watch. He turns bright red, struck by the realisation that dogs are really much more complex than he thought.
And now the second Ponder drabble, as requested by
vikitickytembo, Ponder's RPer. She just wanted drabblage about Ponder.Very Frightening
Because you are very frightening!
Rarely are human thoughts as clear as that. Beth always maintained that he read people, not minds; but in this case, the words hung in the middle of the parlour, slowly drifting apart as if actually written in smoke rings.
Perhaps it was because the one who'd thought them was a wizard, or because his mind was as clear and logical as people around them always claimed it was.
Beth had just asked, rhethorically more than everything, why the dog was afraid of him. It wasn't any old dog; she was a discerning luxury dog, and she belonged to the young wizard, shy but determined, pudgy and sweet, on whose mere whim he himself was only tolerated at the castle. "If you annoy Ponder, you go before you can say 'blood', and I mean it", Margo had said, and the fact she actually spoke the forbidden b-word out loud had the effect of a suden obscenity from a mild-spoken person. "Do what you want, but don't annoy Ponder," Lajos had added, and even if he knew, intellectually, that any number of willing partners and humans enjoying the sup were waiting for him at home if he wanted them, Beth was determined that this one stubborn human wasn't going to deny him his body for ichor or pleasure, not because of that pudgy little wizard - who actually appeared quite tasty and desirable himself.
But the wizard was off-limits, especially as he'd brought his own lover along, a silent, tall, extremely good-looking fellow. Beth had to be content with looking at the two of them in secret, and painting them, walking hand in hand through the sun-flooded summer garden, the dog trotting after them.
He wasn't going to leave things like this. He was not going to be thought of as "very frightening" and be content with it - not from that wizard, infuriating and cute at the same time, that held Beth's future fortunes with that very delectable Captain in his chubby hands and didn't even know it.
So Beth went on a crusade.-
Now, months later, he felt that phrase again. Again, it hung in the air, almost tangible, slowly dispersing like smoke.
Because it's very frightening!
Beth had been talking about the two abandonend mansions and their pictures that he had the key to now, and where they might go the next week on their excursions to the private art collections in Ankh-Morpork. And just as Ponder had said aloud, that other time, "Perhaps she doesn't like what you smell like", now he said "All that dust might turn on my allergies, you know."
And as the unspoken sentence had been a challenge the other time, it was one now. "Don't worry, Ponder, I will be with you, and I'm more frightening than anything that can be there. Allergies will flee before me! I'm supposed to be the monster here!"
"I wish you'd stop calling yourself that" Ponder said, disapproving. "Silly vampire", he added with a smile.
You're really as tame as a kitten, he added, not saying it aloud again. Beth grinned at him, showing his pointy little fangs. Ponder grinned back, a challenge and a reassurance at once.
It was a victory of sorts.
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<3 for you!
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The inspiration was there immediately when I read "Angua meeting Ponder", too.
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Ponder is best when mortified, I think.
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And yes, he is. I have so put him into mortifying situations in those two fics, too. Poor, dear Ponder...
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Dog biscuits, he had learned, are quite unlike biscuits for humans, and partly made with ground-up bits of dried animal that even C.M.O.T. Dibbler wouldn't put in his sausages. But unfit as they are for human consumption...
That amused me for whatever reason. And how had Ponder learned this? ;)
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