(no subject)
A while ago robin_eliza asked me to write something in which Crowley encounters Susan Sto Helit of Discworld fame. This is my short, rather silly attempt.
Crowley didn’t really mind temporarily residing in the Death of Discworld’s Domain that much. It was, of course, completely devoid of anything that the demon would have called style; but then one couldn’t really expect an aspect of Azrael to be a frequent visitor to The Conran Shop. No what bothered Crowley was Death’s granddaughter. He wasn’t quite sure how the Azrael of this dimensional plane had acquired a granddaughter - and for that matter preferred to remain in a state of ignorance as to how any progeny of Death had entered into existence - but he did know that Susan Death probably wasn’t somebody you wanted to get on the wrong side of. It was also eminently clear from the way that she had looked at him upon their first meeting that she thoroughly disapproved of his presence in this universe and its adjuncts.
It was for this reason that he had been doing his level best to avoid contact. Unfortunately Susan seemed to have other ideas.
“Have you got any idea how much trouble you’ve caused?” she demanded, as she homed in on the demon, who was standing, in what he had previously thought to be unobtrusive manner, in the black and white garden of Death.
Crowley, being a demon, had never attended school*; however, there must have been some very primal part of his quasi-human form somehow pre-programmed to respond to ‘that’ tone of voice by standing up straight and making sure his shirt was tucked in. He only just managed to retain some semblance of demonic pride and keep himself from saying ‘no miss’ while staring nervously at the floor.
“Look, I didn’t actually intend for any of this to happen. Do you think I actually enjoyed crash landing into an ecclesiastical supplies shop in Ankh.”
“You shouldn’t have been there in the first place,” said Susan, who looked dangerously close to glowering point.
In his mind he could almost see the gold star being removed from the line next to the name Anthony J. Crowley. “I just made a very small mistake with the co-ordinates, that’s all.”
“Yes, a very small mistake that just happens to have has caused an almighty diplomatic uproar. And I do hope you realise that you’ve left a gaping plot hole in the narrative fabric of the The Disc. The auditors are complaining to my grandfather about it, you know.”
Crowley shifted uneasily. He didn’t think that the interdimensional political fallout could possibly be as bad as that which ensued when Hastur and Ligur had been arrested on Valinor for drunk and disorderly and thrown into The Void. He’d heard that Beelzebub was still fuming about the written apology he’d had to send to the Ainur. He wasn’t however about to tell Susan this. “I’m sorry alright; I was just trying to prove to a friend that there were alternatives means of travel to L-Space.”
From the look on her face this was not the right response.
DON’T DO IT AGAIN
Oh bloody he… heav… Glasgow, she could do the voice.
“Right… fine… won’t happen in the future, promise.”
“I should hope not.” And with that she turned back towards the house of Death and began to walk away.
Crowley was left with the vague and disconcerting feeling that he ought to be standing in a corner somewhere. Discworld was definitely getting crossed off his ‘Alternate Universes to Visit’ list
*Unless one counted the Basic Tempting Training seminar he’d been packed off to just before what was now colloquially known in hell as The Eden Job.
Crowley didn’t really mind temporarily residing in the Death of Discworld’s Domain that much. It was, of course, completely devoid of anything that the demon would have called style; but then one couldn’t really expect an aspect of Azrael to be a frequent visitor to The Conran Shop. No what bothered Crowley was Death’s granddaughter. He wasn’t quite sure how the Azrael of this dimensional plane had acquired a granddaughter - and for that matter preferred to remain in a state of ignorance as to how any progeny of Death had entered into existence - but he did know that Susan Death probably wasn’t somebody you wanted to get on the wrong side of. It was also eminently clear from the way that she had looked at him upon their first meeting that she thoroughly disapproved of his presence in this universe and its adjuncts.
It was for this reason that he had been doing his level best to avoid contact. Unfortunately Susan seemed to have other ideas.
“Have you got any idea how much trouble you’ve caused?” she demanded, as she homed in on the demon, who was standing, in what he had previously thought to be unobtrusive manner, in the black and white garden of Death.
Crowley, being a demon, had never attended school*; however, there must have been some very primal part of his quasi-human form somehow pre-programmed to respond to ‘that’ tone of voice by standing up straight and making sure his shirt was tucked in. He only just managed to retain some semblance of demonic pride and keep himself from saying ‘no miss’ while staring nervously at the floor.
“Look, I didn’t actually intend for any of this to happen. Do you think I actually enjoyed crash landing into an ecclesiastical supplies shop in Ankh.”
“You shouldn’t have been there in the first place,” said Susan, who looked dangerously close to glowering point.
In his mind he could almost see the gold star being removed from the line next to the name Anthony J. Crowley. “I just made a very small mistake with the co-ordinates, that’s all.”
“Yes, a very small mistake that just happens to have has caused an almighty diplomatic uproar. And I do hope you realise that you’ve left a gaping plot hole in the narrative fabric of the The Disc. The auditors are complaining to my grandfather about it, you know.”
Crowley shifted uneasily. He didn’t think that the interdimensional political fallout could possibly be as bad as that which ensued when Hastur and Ligur had been arrested on Valinor for drunk and disorderly and thrown into The Void. He’d heard that Beelzebub was still fuming about the written apology he’d had to send to the Ainur. He wasn’t however about to tell Susan this. “I’m sorry alright; I was just trying to prove to a friend that there were alternatives means of travel to L-Space.”
From the look on her face this was not the right response.
DON’T DO IT AGAIN
Oh bloody he… heav… Glasgow, she could do the voice.
“Right… fine… won’t happen in the future, promise.”
“I should hope not.” And with that she turned back towards the house of Death and began to walk away.
Crowley was left with the vague and disconcerting feeling that he ought to be standing in a corner somewhere. Discworld was definitely getting crossed off his ‘Alternate Universes to Visit’ list
*Unless one counted the Basic Tempting Training seminar he’d been packed off to just before what was now colloquially known in hell as The Eden Job.