paixaorpg | Foundation Day Festival: At the Entrance

Entry tags:

Foundation Day Festival: At the Entrance

Character(s): everyone entering the festival by the gate
Content: weapons confiscation, greetings, etc.
Setting: Joco da Crianca Fairgrounds, entrance
Time: all day~
Warnings: Multithreaded posting format (please include time of day and sub-location in your comment's subject line)

For the festival, the Jogo da Crianca fairgrounds have been ringed by a modular eight-foot-tall iron-bar fence. Signs all around the vicinity point to the entrance, which is the only large gap in the fence. Because this is Paixao, there is a line to get in, but it moves quickly.

At the front of the line is a small security team; as people enter, they are asked to check their weapons or dangerous items with festival staff. Once unarmed, they are given a receipt to pick up their items on the way out, as well as one complimentary raffle ticket, and are allowed to proceed into the fairgrounds.

Just inside the entrance are two tents, one labeled "SECURITY / LOST AND FOUND," and the other labeled with "FIRST AID" and a large red cross.

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Had he eyelids, Death would have blinked in surprise. He'd had some occult maniacs come up with some very interesting ways of addressing him before, but this one was new. What was stranger was, it looked as though he meant it.

I APOLOGIZE, Death said simply. IT WAS NOT MY INTENTION TO STARTLE YOU.

AND I DO NOT UNDERSTAND THIS FAIREST AND FALLEN BUSINESS, he continued, confused. I HAVE YET TO FALL FROM ANYTHING. Not even his horse, which, given Binky's high spirits, was saying something. I SIMPLY WISH TO KNOW THE PURPOSE OF STANDING IN A LINE THAT DOES NOT SEEM TO MOVE IN ORDER TO ENTER AN ENCLOSED SPACE. I HAVE SEEN THIS SYSTEM BEFORE, in slaughterhouses, but that need not be said to a young boy who already seemed to be on edge, AND I AM CURIOUS AS TO WHY HUMANS WOULD WISH TO IMPLEMENT IT UPON THEMSELVES.

...Wait, what? Now Kit was confused. Maybe... this wasn't the Lone Power. "Erm... sorry to confuse you. I guess you're not the Death I know. I mean... based on your outfit, that's probably what you are, eh? As for what we're waiting for... well, I hear it's a carnival. A festival... which is basically a place with games and food and such."

He looked down the line and groaned. "And I think that it's not moving because people are taking too long at the weapons check-in."

THIS SEEMS TO BE THE CASE, Death replied, AS YOU DO NOT LOOK TO BE A CITIZEN OF ANKH-MORPORK. His hygiene was too good for that. BUT YOU INFERRED CORRECTLY. I AM DEATH.

FOOD AND GAMES AND SUCH. I SEE. In Death's experience, human "games" could be quite dangerous, both to those involved and innocent passerby, although it was entirely possible Christopher was speaking of children's games.

That was even worse. Children's games were even more dangerous than those played by their adult counterparts.

WEAPONS CHECK-IN? Death peered over the heads of the crowd, not a difficult feat, as he was at least a good head taller than most of them. OH. THEY EXPECT US TO GIVE UP OUR WEAPONS. It looked as though most people had complied, if the small arsenal behind the man at the booth was anything to judge by. I SHOULD BE INTERESTED TO SEE THEM TRY THAT WITH A WIZARD, he tried conversationally. In his experience, a wizard would sooner be separated from his left leg than his staff - or his hat, if it came to that.

"Ankh-Morpork? Sounds like an interesting place." Kit looked at Death. "Well, I don't really have weapons, per se. Most of them are spells in my head. They might not let you bring your scythe in." He smiled a little, though his head was reeling. Him. Talking to Death. And it wasn't the Lone Power. Oh boy.

THAT WOULD DEPEND ON YOUR DEFINITION OF INTERESTING, Death replied candidly. All of Discworld was "interesting" if your definition stretched that far.

YOU ARE A WIZARD? Death was surprised. He had known witches to start young, but to see a young wizard was something new.

LOOK CLOSELY, CHRISTOPHER. Death spread his arms wide, allowing the boy a full view of his cloak, woven of pure darkness and belying nothing. DO YOU SEE A SCYTHE ANYWHERE?

"Well, I was kidding. The stereotypical personification of Death, at least in my world, usually involves a scythe of some sort. Sorry if that offended you." Kit chuckled.

"And yes, I'm a wizard. My friend and her little sister are, too. They're... not extremely common in my world, but almost every area of my world has them. They're not generally out in the open, though that depends on the culture of the place they live in." He wasn't really keen on explaining exactly what they did, since, as a rule, they fought against entropy... which was also known as death.

I AM NOT OFFENDED, Death replied simply, pulling his scythe from seemingly nowhere, the blue-edged blade humming softly in the morning light. I AM SIMPLY MAKING A POINT. He tucked the scythe away again, seemingly into nowhere. IF THEY DO NOT KNOW I HAVE IT, THEY CAN NOT TAKE IT FROM ME.

INTERESTING, he commented. ALL OF THE WIZARDS I KNOW HAVE HAD YEARS OF EDUCATION AND TRAINING. YOU ARE NOT OLD ENOUGH FOR SOMETHING LIKE THAT. It was not an insult, but a mere statement of fact. I AM CURIOUS AS TO HOW YOU BECAME A WIZARD WITHOUT THAT BENEFIT.

"Point taken." Kit shrugged. "It makes sense."

He nodded, listening to Death talk. "Well, mostly we learn on the job. We tend to get a small break from when we take our Oath, but not very long... in most of the instances I've seen, you get less than a week. You're thrown into your Ordeal, which is basically..." He had a feeling it would get to this. "Basically where we're thrown against our version of Death. The Lone Power. Most of what wizards do is try to help slow down the heat-death of the universe. And so we're tested. Not all of us make it out alive."

IS THAT SO, Death replied. As interesting as it was to hear about the wizards of another world and their training, he had to wonder about their ultimate goal. AND IS THE DEATH IN YOUR WORLD A MALEVOLENT ENTITY OR SIMPLY AN INEVITABLE OCCURRENCE? He wouldn't have been surprised to receive either answer at this point.

"Oh, He's malevolent all right." Kit kicked at the ground gently. "He likes to mess with sentient species and try to make them accept painful deaths... a good portion of the species fall for it. He's a trickster and a deceiver. The Father of Lies, too. He's got lots of titles... almost none of them are good."

Christopher was no longer speaking Death's language, and he was finding it difficult to comprehend. YOU ARE TELLING ME THIS ENTITY NOT ONLY CREATED THE IDEA OF DEATH, BUT ENFORCES AND CAUSES IT AS WELL? This fell far outside his bounds. Contrary to popular (and misguided) belief, Death did not kill people; rather, he simply helped them to cross over after they had been killed by something else. Only in rare circumstances would he cause anything to cease living - a scythe that could cut the very soul out of a body was not just for show, after all. But to be the cause of death instead of just a part of its cycle, and to do it on a consistant basis...that was unthinkable.

And suddenly, Death understood. SO YOU ARE FIGHTING A GOD, THEN.

"Yeah. That's pretty much what He does." Kit sighed.

And then, when Death spoke again, he knew that he had gotten through. "Yes. In essence... that's what the Lone Power is. A god."

Death had no sense of tact, only of truth. Fighting a god was often suicide for anything mortal and, depending on the god, for some things that weren't. YOU ARE EITHER VERY BRAVE OR VERY FOOLISH.

Needless to say, conversations with Death often got rather awkward because of this.

GOOD LUCK, he continued, distractedly flipping open his journal, seemingly oblivious to the potential implications of his previous statement.

After several moments, he flipped the journal shut and looked at his companion. CHRISTOPHER. I WISH TO SPEAK WITH YOU ON A RATHER SERIOUS MATTER.

"Something like that, yeah. Not sure which, but at least we've got to try." Kit waited patiently while Death flipped through his journal and didn't ask. It was probably none of his business, anyway, and a wizard knew when not to pry.

"Thanks, and... yeah?" He tilted his head. "What's wrong?"

I AM TO MEET A COMPANION OF MINE HERE TO DISCUSS MATTERS THAT AFFECT EVERYONE IN THIS CITY, Death replied, well aware of the implications of his words and wondering if his companion had even been in the city for that long.

He hated to turn this power on anybody he liked, but unsure times called for very decisive measures. When he next spoke, his voice had a certain tone that had not been present before, one expecting the absolute truth in a question's answer and complete obedience in response to any command. For all this power, the question in itself was quite simple. CAN I TRUST YOU?

Kit recognized the tone a little, he thought, and knew that he had to answer truthfully, which he always tried to do anyway. He nodded. "Yeah. You can trust me. I try not to lie, anyway. So you can trust me."

GOOD, Death replied. I WILL EXPLAIN LATER. They had reached the weapons check, after all, and Death was not about to discuss something so sensitive in front of strange - and to him, lifeless - faces. He waited mutely as the security glanced at him and, seemingly unperturbed, okayed him to enter the festival. He received his raffle ticket and stepped through the entrance, turning and waiting patiently for his companion to go through the same process.

Kit smiled, and held out his hands, showing that he didn't have any weapons. The guard nodded to him, and waved him through. Kit picked up his raffle ticket and looked at it for a moment, trying to figure out what it was for. Then he decided it didn't matter, tucked it into his pocket, and went through the entrance, walking over to near where Death was.

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Foundation Day Festival: At the Entrance

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