Ridcully: I don’t want to fuck my clone because it would be gay sex and I’m not gay.
Angua:I’m not gay but I would totally fuck my clone.
Cheery Littlebottom: I’m gay but I still don’t want to fuck my clone, that’s gross and weird.
Rincewind: I don’t want to fuck my clone because my self-loathing is THAT strong.
Moist: I’d fuck my clone because who would know better how to fuck ME than ME?
Glenda: I’d totally do all sorts of weird things to my clone I’d be embarrassed to ask somebody else to do.
Sally: To be honest, fucking my clone has always been my fantasy.
Fred Colon: It’s basically the same as masturbating, right? So no big deal.
Carrot: It’s not the same as masturbating; it’d be like having sex with your twin. Wrong and bad!
Sam Vimes: I would not have sex with my clone because what if my clone is evil.
Nanny Ogg: Not only would I have sex with my clone, I’d probably make a bunch of clones and just get it on with all of them at once because that’s how pro-clone fucking I am.
The staff turned again in mid-air, glowing red-hot now, and swept back for another and quite definitely final run. Rincewind struggled up on his elbows and watched in horrified fascination as it swooped through the chilly air which, for some reason he didn’t understand, seemed to be full of snowflakes.
And became tinged with purple, blotched with blue. Time slowed and ground to a halt like an underwound phonograph.
Just a quick little something because I never remember the 25th in time to make anything and how small things matter even if they’re not remembered and how someone, probably bookhobbit, made the connection between Rincewind’s attitude to revolution in Interesting Times and the events of Night Watch.
*
It was a little over nine months after the Agatean People’s Revolution that it hit him. The overpowering sweet scent that dragged Rincewind back over twenty years to when he’d still been young and foolish enough to believe in revolutions.
He stopped and stared at the lilac flowers until even Twoflower noticed that he’d been prattling on to himself and Rincewind was several metres behind.
Rincewind barely flinched when a warm hand touched his.
“Twoflower, what’s today’s date?”
“May twenty sixth. Are you alright?”
“Then I’ve missed it,” Rincewind said, still not looking at him. “Wouldn’t be the first time, nor the third either for that matter. Not much you can do when you’re shipwrecked or running for your life, but I tried. They all tried too bloody hard, the poor sods.”
He plucked a bloom and tucked it into his hatband. Only then did he seem to notice Twoflower was staring at him.
“It was… a long time ago. A symbol of our own revolution, in Ankh Morpork.”
Twoflower didn’t look away. The silence drew more words out.
“I was a student back then, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew what Winder was doing to the city. No, scratch that, I was bloody stupid for wanting to get involved. Not that I even did anything in the end; I don’t think bundling some drunk sod into the back of the university to avoid the hurry-up wagon counts.”
Twoflower squeezed his hand. “Dear chap, small things matter. You should know that. Think of that travelogue I wrote.”
“I’d rather not.” Rincewind played with the fraying hem of his sleeve and stared back into the past. “Ye gods, I couldn’t have been any older than Lotus Blossom is now.”
A breeze scattered lilac petals across the ground. Six thousand miles away, Rincewind knew, the same flowers were falling onto a marble headstone.
Some small, never quite quashed voice whispered, It could have worked. We could have won, the same as we did here. Another part of him, the part which was always counting exits, always looking for concealed weapons, growled back. And we could have, should have lost last year! Anyone with any sense could see we’d have died every bit as slowly as those poor bastards in Cable Street. And we didn’t. We’re here. We’re alive. And if I ever meet the Lady again, I can’t be grateful to her for it.
Rincewind pulled Twoflower close against his skinny chest. “Promise me something?”
“Anything you want.” He tucked his head under Rincewind’s chin.
Mostly mort but i threw in a rincewind for uh…flavor (?)
The ending of Sourcery annihilated me man. Finally sold me on rince as a character tbh. I still want to draw the entire summoning scene from Mort too sigh
