keire_ke | Well damn. (Reply)

This one actually has a plot in potentio. *grins* I imagine this would be somewhat of a first chapter. we shall see how long it will end up being... I am hoping for 10,000 words at least. Discworld knowledge optional, but would probably come in handy.

You knew I wouldn't be able to resist making Duo Susan, did you? No warnings - maybe except for the odd F word.

It is generally believed that the Word is run on the laws of physics. This supposition is fundamentally true, yet lacking.

Laws of physics do not run the World. They merely define the rules that do. These rules are beliefs. Now belief is not alcohol (though it comes close sometimes) and cannot be bottled, or weighed. It is measured by the amount of spotted logic-defying occurrences per square mile.

Understandably, by the year 201 A.C., that figure was rather low. One to 1969.35 times 10 to power 5.

One being a certain God of Death, who, at present time, was slowly coming awake in his own cosy bed. Slowly he stretched, with the clarity of mind and desire to spring into action of an individual perfectly aware that his day off had just begun. He basked in the golden rays of sun, purring lightly in their warmth and patting himself on the back for positioning the bed so carefully. Heero might have thought it was nuts to spend two days mathematically considering the proper positioning of a bed in relation to schedule, hemisphere and star alignment, but the sunny mornings were well worth the trouble.

This sunny morning however, something seemed different.

Duo opened his eyes fully and blinked. Very slowly he sat up and cocking his head he looked at the figure lounging – or rather occupying – his Perfect Chair.

“You are Death, aren’t you,” he said finally, barely batting an eye.

WHATEVER MAKES YOU THINK THAT?

“Just the little clues. I doubt anything alive would be able to enter and take up my Chair without waking me.” A little pause. “And – I hope you don’t mind me saying that – the skull on top of a menacing black robe and the scythe across you lap kind of lay the purpose of guessing games to rest.”

OH. The apparition seemed a little dazzled. Human reason does that to people who employ Logic. I WAS WORKING ON THE SHOCK FACTOR, I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW.

“It didn’t work out all that well. Unless you put up a big ‘Don’t Fear the Reaper’ campaign where I wasn’t looking. Course, then again, I might have been busy reaping people to shreds in my Deathscythe.” Duo looked at the ceiling, laying back against the pillows. “Sorry if I screwed anything up for you.”

NO. Death pondered his next statement thoroughly. I DECIDED IT DOESN’T REALLY MATTER. THE SHOCK OF SEEING ME USUALLY IS MILD COMPARED TO THE SHOCK OF BEING DEAD.

“Now that you mention it though,” the braided man sat up again, “Am I dead? Am not looking for shock value here, mind you. Merely information. I like to plan accordingly.”

Following the train of thought will some difficulty, Death slowly shook his skull. YOU ARE NOT DEAD. THIS IS… PERSONAL.

Considering the deliverance, the statement was pretty shocking. “Personal as in…?”

I HAD A DAUGHTER.

“Will not ask how, why or with whom. Nope, I like my mysteries unsolved, thank you very much,” Duo shifted on the bed so that his back was resting against the wall, allowing him to face Death.

SHE HAD A DAUGHTER. AND SHE HAD TWINS. AND THEY HAD CHILDREN AS WELL. THIS WAS APPROXIMATELY ONE THOUSAND SEVEN HUNDRED AND SIXTY THREE YEARS AGO.

“Your point being?”

IT IS COMPLICATED. THE SECOND SON AND SEVENTH DAUGHTER SEEMED TO HAVE NO TALENTS WHATSOEVER. HOWEVER, CERTAIN FAMILY TRAITS… LINGERED, Death said sombrely. Of course, he didn’t have much choice. Sobriety was a part of his initial design.

“Hold on. Are you trying to tell me I’m related to you?”

I THINK I WAS SUCCEEDING?

“Damn.” Duo leaned forward, pressing his palms against his face. “Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.”

NOT LITERALLY, I SHOULD HOPE. Seeing the glare that statement earned, Death coughed lightly. YOU DO NOT SEEM OVERLY SHOCKED. MOST PEOPLE WOULD BE. Duo straightened and with a sigh took the tie of his braid.

“Yeah, well. I guess normal people aren’t used to their hair doing *that*,” he said, as the long honey-brown tresses straightened and started weaving themselves into a thick plait.

I SEE. IT IS A FORTUNATE CIRCUMSTANCE. I WAS AFRAID I WOULD NEED TO DEAL WITH SURPRISE.

“Try and surprise me, mister. That’s an experience few ever survived. No offence.”

YES, I HAVE MET THE MAN WHO TRIED TO SURPRISE YOU WITH A METAL PIPE IN A DARK ALLEY. HE WAS MOST ASTONISHED.

“Mostly about the distance his gut travelled before he landed in it face-first?”

I DID NOT ENQUIRE ABOUT THE DETAILS.

“I imagine he would have been most unwilling to supply them. I was, after all, barely four feet tall.”

FOUR FEET, ONE AND THREE QUARTERS OF AN INCH. WHICH, INCIDENTALLY, WAS THE EXACT POSITION OF HIS STOMACH, WASN’T IT? Duo blinked, before tying off his braid.

“You’ve been keeping tabs on me?

… I HAVE BEEN OBSERVING YOUR PROGRESS.

“Damn. I have made you busy over the last couple if years, haven’t I?”

QUITE SO. BUT THIS IS NOT IMPORTANT RIGHT NOW.

“Oh?”

I AM AFRAID I AM THE BEARER OF BAD NEWS, Death said gravely. For a few moments silence filled the sunny room.

“Uh – was that a joke? Cause I imagine this is what you normally do, deliver bad news, I mean.”

NO. THESE NEWS ARE INDEED BAD.

“I’m listening.”

THE END OF THE WORLD WILL OCCUR IN EXACTLY ONE MONTH. AT 9 AM LOCAL TIME.

“Good to know I will be able to get my breakfast before then,” Duo muttered. Then rewound the statement. “Wait, what do you mean the end of the world will occur? Like – the apocalypse?”

NO. APOCALYPSE IS MANAGEABLE, PREDICTABLE AND SCHEDULED. END OF THE WORLD IS NOT.

“But why? A giant meteor is heading for Earth or something?”

NO. THERE IS A DEFICIENCY OF BELIEF.

“I don’t understand.”

PEOPLE DO NOT BELIEVE. THEY THINK WORLD RUNS ITSELF USING PHYSICS.

“Uh… doesn’t it?”

NO. WORLD RUNS ON BELIEF. SOLELY.

“Okay. Let’s say it is true. What do I have to do with the whole mess?”

YOU ARE THE LAST CENTER OF BELIEF. YOU MUST EXPAND IT AND DO SO SOON.

“Hold it right there mister. What do you mean ‘centre of belief’? I am a real person, people don’t need to believe in me! I exist and they know it!”

YES. BUT MANY ALSO BELIEVE IN THE GOD OF DEATH, WHO IS ABLE TO ACHIEVE THE IMPOSSIBLE.

“But – there’s God and Allah and Buddha and heavens know who else!”

HOW MANY DO YOU THINK BELIEVE IN THEM? TRULY BELIEVE?

“Why me?” Duo very nearly wailed. “What the hell did I do to warrant a Belief, of all things! I don’t want to have an altar or anything! Do I look like worship material? Do I?”

IT WAS EITHER YOU OR THE U.F.O, BUT I COULDN’T CONTACT ANY OF THE LATTER.

“Hilarious,” the braided man said morosely. “I am sure E.T. would be wounded you didn’t try calling home.”

I MUST LEAVE YOU NOW. BINKY SHOULD BE OF SOME USE TO YOU, Death remarked getting up.

“Hey! You’re not allowed to go yet! You haven’t even told me what needs to be done!”

YOU SHALL FIGURE IT OUT.

“In a month? How am I supposed to figure out what needs to be done and then do it in one month?”

YOU NEED TO REINSTATE A BELIEF.

“How?!” Death seemed somewhat embarrassed.

I AM… NOT QUITE CERTAIN. Duo rolled his eyes.

“Brilliant. Just fucking brilliant. Anything I am allowed to know?”

TIME IS NOT A PROBLEM, YOU WILL REALISE. MUCH OF WHAT YOU’RE USED TO IS NOT A PROBLEM.

“Yeah, right. Walking through the walls and all that jazz. Gotcha,” the violet-eyed mad muttered, rubbing his forehead. “Saving the world. I must be mad.” Noting that the apparition had not yet left, the young man looked up again. “Is there anything else?”

IT IS YOUR BIRTHDAY TODAY.

“My… birthday?”

YES.

“As in – the anniversary of my birth?”

IS THERE ANOTHER KIND OF BIRTHDAY I AM NOT AWARE OF?

“Sorry.”

I UNDERSTAND YOU COULDN’T HAVE KNOWN. Death looked at the pale youth carefully, as if pondering something. I GOT YOU BIRTHDAY CARD. AND A GIFT. Duo blinked.

“Really?” he asked, childish awe clear in his voice. The seven feet tall skeleton soberly nodded, withdrawing a big, black envelope from the folds of his robe and placing it on Duo’s lap.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY. When Duo raised his head again, he was alone in the room. Furrowing his brows he carefully unfolded the thick paper and revealed the card inside. It was white with generously sized numbers 2 and 1 taking up most of it’s surface. The rest was decorated with intricate flowery pattern. Opening the card, the man trembled. Inside was tucked a photo of a young couple, an auburn-haired man and a woman with nearly white mane with a violet eyed baby in her lap. Removing the photo almost reverently, Duo read the inscription inside the card. There was no pre-printed ‘Happy Birthday’. Instead, someone wrote in heavy gothic letters ‘Best Birthday Wishes from Your Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great…’ suppressing a snicker, Duo flipped the card over. As expected, the ‘Great’ came to a stop not too far from the bottom edge, neatly finished with ‘Grandfather’.

If he was to wager a guess, Duo was almost certain that if he tracked his family tree down, the amount of ‘Greats’ would match exactly the number of ancestors from Death’s daughter to himself. Flopping back on the bed, he barely noticed when his eyes moistened and filled with tears. Bringing the photo back to his face, he sighed. “Damn. And now I need to save the world.”

Slowly he got up, taking care to immediately tuck the picture into a frame on the bedside table. He would have to get another one, and fast. Stretching he made his way into the bathroom, his mind already processing the newly acquired information. Belief. What is it that people want to believe in?

Sliding the brush over his teeth one last final time, he glared at his reflection in the mirror. “Brain fuzzy,” he declared loudly. “Needs caffeine.”

Duo rinsed the toothbrush and – after slapping some cold water onto his face – made a beeline for the kitchen. Caffeine. He felt the need surge through his veins. He could feel the distinct *lack* of blessed Beverage of Life in his veins. “You keep that up, Maxwell,” he told himself rounding the corner, “and one day Po will actually discover some blood in your caffeine stream.”

However was the corner was rounded, Duo found that his daily intake of caffeine was the least of his problems.

“How in the flying fuck did he get a fucking horse into my apartment!?” he yelled, as the massive, pure black animal finished off his favourite fern. Immediately after it trotted towards him and nuzzled the side of his face with its velvety nose. It was then that Duo noticed the black bow circling the creature’s neck. There was also a small card attached to the bow, card written in familiar gothic letters. Dropping the ribbon to the floor, the man unfolded the small card.

‘This Is Your Present. Her Name Is Inky.’

Locking gazes with the friendly mare, Duo scowled. “And how, pray tell, I’m supposed to keep you in my tenth-floor apartment?” Inky gave him a stern look and motioned towards her back. Still eyeing the horse warily, Duo made an effort to climb on top of its back. “I knew I should have asked Heero to give me riding lessons,” he ground out, attempting futilely to press his thighs together. While he was perfectly aware that from normal standing position the floor was a lot closer than it seemed, sitting on top of a horse the statement sounded much more ludicrous than it normally would. “Okay, I’m on,” he continued. “Now whaaaaaaa…”

Without the slightest warning, Inky took off at full speed, galloping towards the living room window. Duo clenched his eyes tightly, trying to keep the scream deep in his throat.

By the time he dared to look again, Inky was halfway across the city, running on thin air over the glowing clouds. Looking around with startled eyes, he drew in a sharp breath.

Well – so much for not having much to believe in. “One month. Something for people to believe in,” he whispered as they floated over a cumulous. “I feel as if I landed in some sort of a fairy tale.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath again. The air tasted cold and fresh.

“Fuck. I need caffeine. And a cigarette.”