Vimes gothic

• You are pissed off. Pissed off at whom? No one know. Maybe at the world, maybe at yourself. The world is pissed off with you too, and the sky is pissing down. And honestly? You feel like that’s just taking the piss.

• Some days there’s a Beast inside of you. Other days there’s a demon. And then other days you’re just really, really hungry. Ye gods, you want some bacon. You would like a bacon farm all to yourself. You sigh as you imagine bacon, that well-known food stuff, growing on its bacon trees, being ploughed up out of the bacon soil. Maybe you could have a bacon tree in the Watchhouse, as a sort of pot plant. You make a note to ask Cheery.

• There are puns. You don’t really notice. You have higher things to consider, more important things to do. Such as being really, really, really pissed off. See bullet point 1.

• You are on some sort of ship. You feel sick, but a strong, powerful, I’m-definitely-not-going-green-shut-up-Corporal-Nobbs sort of sick.

• Music plays. The notes entwine around you like the armour of heaven, and trickle into your soul, caressing your heart like a mother’s fingers caresses a child. All sins are forgiven; maybe even yours. What sins have you actually done? No one knows. Just Sins. Maybe your anger is a sin, maybe the drinking. Maybe it’s that time you laughed at the name “Littlebottom”.

• All sins are forgiven, though. But at the same time, you’re not about to forgive eg. Carcer’s sins, but then he doesn’t really matter, because he was like books and books ago. You’ve moved on. He hasn’t, he’s in the ground somewhere. You chuckle, drily. No one has ever managed to chuckle drily before. You have perfected it.

• You get on well with darkness. You are the darkness, and it is inside of you. You stand in the second darkest shadow, and you wait for the enemy to arrive. You stub your toe. It hurts. Now you’re pissed off again. Great.

• You arrest people. You are arresting. The turtle moves. You arrest more people. “Wow” they think. “That man who arrested me - he sure is arresting.” You smile as you put them in handcuffs. They imagine a different situation, with you putting them in handcuffs. They look at your face. They feel ashamed.

• There are tights, and they are hated. Sometimes, you have to wear the tights. You hate it, but a tiny, very very hidden part of you thinks “Damn. My legs are hot.” before being trampled on, ripped to pieces, and thrown out. You sigh.

• Something happens. “Ye gods” you say. “Yes?” say the gods. “Ye gods” you repeat. “Hello, yes, we’re here, what can we help you with, Comman-” they say, but you’ve already moved on. Blind Io sits back down. “I’m starting to feel like that guy’s just taking the piss.” The other gods answer “At least he’s not pissed off with us.” Blind Io pauses for a moment, and then nods. You are too hardcore, even for the gods.

• You threaten people with awful things, with no intention to go through with it. They believe you, and tell you everything. You marvel at the power of an image, the power of the imagination of the guilty. They feel like tossers. You smile.

• Your latin is rusty. Some latin is said to you, and you translate it flawlessly. “Gods” you think. “My latin is rusty” There is latin everywhere. Latin is everything. “Ye gods [see bullet point 10]” you think. “I wish I could translate latin better, it’s embarrassing” You still translate it all flawlessly. The latin dances around you like mirages in the desert. “I’m too rusty for this” you shout to the sky as you translate it easily, and without mistake. You are, in fact, flawless. You woke up like this.

• You are on a train. The train feels alive. You are fighting on top of a train. You feel alive. You rip of your shirt. You feel embarrassed, uncomfortable, and a little bit sexy. You put your shirt back on.

• There is paperwork. It is avoided. 

• You walk with Death. You stare Death in the face, and do not back down. Death takes out a book, and sits down. “TELL ME WHEN YOU’RE DONE, WON’T YOU?” he says, in a voice like gravel and universes breaking. You nod. Death’s quite a nice guy, you think, as you refrain from dying.

• You shout so loudly that your son can hear, even though you are far away. You shout through dwarves, armed with flamethrowers and axes. You shout through rock, deep, dark, strong, and pretty sound impenetrable. You shout through the air, miles and miles of air, all carrying your message of “WHEERREE’S MMYYYYY COOOWWWWW“. You have impressive vocals. Perhaps you should consider a retirement career in the opera. They’d like to have someone stable around. Maybe you and Sybil could do duets together, you idly think to yourself, as you knock dwarves flying. It’d be kind of romantic, right? 

• There is still paperwork. You employ someone to do it for you. “Ye gods [see bullet point 10] “I’m getting the hang of this management thing” you think, as you get bored of sitting in an office and go off an fight the bad guys yourself. Vetinari is amused. He likes it when you fight bad guys. You’ve never asked why.

cries blood ears of joy