so. they made a new german discowrld essentials edition, with a new covers (which is good because the old ones are real bad)
and they are these manga-like ‘build a picture’ style, which i like
but. oh my god. look at that vimes
this isn’t samuel ‘worked the night-shift for 30 years, runs on coffee and spit, has probably not slept more than 3hours any given day’ vimes
this is the guy who played vimes in murder-mystery play, ‘inspired by real events’. hammy acting, horrible script, ‘Clues’ everywhere, heroic fightscenes, big speaches. Vimes threadened to shut the whole thing down for slander. Sybil probably got an autograph
I’ve been staring at this post for 15 minutes and I can’t stop laughing omg omg I’m seeing stars oh no.
Sybil invited the damn company to the house for their afterparty and you know it.
the actor earnestly explains at one point the fitness routine he undertook to ‘get in character’ for the part of the ‘heroic commander’ while pointing at various melon-sized muscle groups. vimes himself is sitting there shoveling something that’s 98% grease by volume into his face and also staring balefully. he’s never done a pushup in his life. he wouldn’t know a fucking pushup if it spat on him in the street. sybil is doing her absolute best not to laugh and her best is nowhere good enough. the actor, encouraged by the (presumably) admiring male stares and flirtatious female giggles, goes on to describe his hair-care regimen.
Nooooooo oooooonnnnne stops coups like Sam Vimes
Distrusts clues like Sam Vimes
No one lives off of Klatchian brews like Sam Vimes
He’s especially good at in-VEST-igating
My what a guy, that Sam Vimes
This post got better since I saw it last night oh my gods.
Thank you @roachpatrol I don’t think I’ll ever stop laughing now.
Affectionate subtitle: Look at what you made me do! (3678 words)
“There you go,
buttercup. You have a lovely day now!”
Varlen visible
bristled as the old lady waved, and he offered her a tight smile as he backed
away, a pouch of powder clutched tightly in his hand. Senile old woman… Varlen shook his head sharply, scolding himself
for his own harshness. He wasn’t sure why he was so on edge. Okay, maybe it was
because they had finally tracked one of Corypheus’ captains to the area. Maybe
it was because they had a good enough idea of where his stronghold was, but no
real clue on how to breach it. Or maybe
it was because he had told that woman
his name was Varlen, yet she had still insisted on…
“Now now buttercup – keep frowning like that and
your face will get stuck!” Dorian’s rich voice wafted over from Varlen’s right,
and he shot an angry glare across at the mage.
“Do not call me that.”
“As you wish.” His
mouth still curled into a satisfied smirk, Dorian gestured to the pouch.
“What’s in there, pray tell?”
“What? And you’re…
keeping it in some little leather pouch? Just breathing in the stuff can kill
you, you know.”
“It’s fine.” Varlen
said dismissively, tucking it into his belt. “I spent my last few years with my
clan building up an immunity to iocane powder.”
“Half your luck.”
Dorian grumbled, rather unsubtly putting another foot’s distance between
himself and the strolling elven man. Just to be safe. “Where are the others?”
“Who? Bull and
Varric?” Varlen asked, and when Dorian nodded, he frowned. “I’m… not sure. They
said they’d meet us by the cliff at sundown though. Should we just head there?”
“Of course. But we
have a moment’s time. Perhaps we should… steel our nerves for the coming battle
while we can? Say, with a bottle of the most expensive wine available at the
tavern over there?”
Varlen laughed, his
eyes warm as they met Dorian’s. “You are wonderful.”
“Thank you; I’ve worked hard to become so.”
“I don’t suppose you
can speed things up?” Dorian drawled as Bull grunted somewhere up ahead, his
hulking form like a giant black shadow rising from the earth. They had located
the stronghold that contained the man they believed they sought. A former
Templar so corrupted by red lyrium that he had grown an extra finger on his
right hand. They knew not his name – everyone simply referred to him as the Six-Fingered
Man.
“If you’re in such a
hurry, you could push, or find something useful to do.” Bull grunted, sweating
as he heaved a heavy wooden cart up the hill. “It would also… be easier… if you would all… get out.”
Yes. They were all
sitting in the cart, being towed up the steep incline by their large companion.
Rather comfortably, really. No, they had no intention of getting out.
“Doing well, big-guy!”
Varlen encouraged cheerily, and Bull shook his head, not dignifying it with a
response. Beside the elven man, Varric sighed, leaning back slightly, his blue
eyes drinking in the darkened countryside as it awkwardly lurched past in time
with Bull’s steps.
“You know what the
best thing is about all of our little adventures? Endlessinspiration.”
Varric declared to no one in particular, his deep voice lilting almost
wistfully. “Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases,
escapes, true love, miracles… they all make for good romance serials. Ones
those Orlesians just lap up.”
“Wonderful. I’ll try
to stay awake through your next one.” Dorian chimed snidely, and Varric shot
him a stung look.
“Oh, well, thank you
very much, very nice of you. Your vote of confidence is overwhelming,
Sparkler.”
Delicious Fish 