littledoglaughed (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
littledoglaughed) wrote2007-10-30 01:03 pm
littledoglaughed) wrote2007-10-30 01:03 pm
Entry tags:
Jack Harkness/Discworld fic: It Pays to Be a Member
Title: It Pays to Be a Member
Rating: PG for cartoonish violence
Fandom: Jack Harkness/Discworld crossover
Words: ~420
Summary: The city of Ankh-Morpork ran like clockwork until a Time Agent got stuck in the cogs.
Author's Note: I just finished Men at Arms last night, and then![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jadesfire2808 wanted something light. This was written very fast. Yikes.
Later, reflecting on that afternoon, Jack realized he'd been in trouble from the moment his vortex manipulator landed him in the middle of the Ankh. Simply walking to shore under his own power, which was quite possible in that stinking mess the people ironically referred to as a river, had angered the Guild of Ferrymen. If he'd known that, he might have gathered enough about the local culture to avoid his next mistake, which was greeting a group of passersby in a... friendly manner the people in this place obviously weren't used to except from members of the Guild of Seamstresses. Why the "Seamstresses" were upset with Jack, he never figured out, as he was sure they had no male prostitutes whose jobs he was threatening; but Mrs. Palm had yelled something about “unregistered solicitation” and "future expansion."
Then there were the alert buskers of the Guild of Musicians, who took offense to Jack's whistling a tune from Snow White after meeting his first dwarf; and the Tailors, who noticed his one-of-a-kind greatcoat and understandably assumed he'd had it made by a non-guild tailor.
He didn't know whether the Dog Guild had something against him, but it was a small, disgustingly mangy mutt with clearly unnatural powers of suggestion who seemed to have gathered all the disgruntled Guilds into one place just in time for an invigorating mob scene. No stranger to being pursued through narrow streets by an assortment of angry citizens, Jack did an admirable job of eluding them for awhile.
In fact, he almost escaped with his life. But when he was finally cornered against the wall of a house, there wasn't much he could do about being hit simultaneously by three oars, two stiletto boot heels, a surprisingly heavy mandolin case, and an iron sewing machine. As he slid down the wall, mercifully, a pair of pale arms reached through a nearby window and pulled his limp body into the house.
Which would have been fantastic in three unfortunately hypothetical scenarios: if he had not unmistakably expired shortly thereafter on the floor of the house; if he had not subsequently revived with a degree of vigor that was difficult to explain away; or if the residents of the house did not happen to be, themselves, both undead and registered members of the new Guild of the Alternatively Living .
And so that time, it was Mrs. Cake muttering angrily, and Jack was tossed back into the frying pan for another round of fascinating lessons in culture and commerce in a city that worked.
Rating: PG for cartoonish violence
Fandom: Jack Harkness/Discworld crossover
Words: ~420
Summary: The city of Ankh-Morpork ran like clockwork until a Time Agent got stuck in the cogs.
Author's Note: I just finished Men at Arms last night, and then
jadesfire2808 wanted something light. This was written very fast. Yikes.Later, reflecting on that afternoon, Jack realized he'd been in trouble from the moment his vortex manipulator landed him in the middle of the Ankh. Simply walking to shore under his own power, which was quite possible in that stinking mess the people ironically referred to as a river, had angered the Guild of Ferrymen. If he'd known that, he might have gathered enough about the local culture to avoid his next mistake, which was greeting a group of passersby in a... friendly manner the people in this place obviously weren't used to except from members of the Guild of Seamstresses. Why the "Seamstresses" were upset with Jack, he never figured out, as he was sure they had no male prostitutes whose jobs he was threatening; but Mrs. Palm had yelled something about “unregistered solicitation” and "future expansion."
Then there were the alert buskers of the Guild of Musicians, who took offense to Jack's whistling a tune from Snow White after meeting his first dwarf; and the Tailors, who noticed his one-of-a-kind greatcoat and understandably assumed he'd had it made by a non-guild tailor.
He didn't know whether the Dog Guild had something against him, but it was a small, disgustingly mangy mutt with clearly unnatural powers of suggestion who seemed to have gathered all the disgruntled Guilds into one place just in time for an invigorating mob scene. No stranger to being pursued through narrow streets by an assortment of angry citizens, Jack did an admirable job of eluding them for awhile.
In fact, he almost escaped with his life. But when he was finally cornered against the wall of a house, there wasn't much he could do about being hit simultaneously by three oars, two stiletto boot heels, a surprisingly heavy mandolin case, and an iron sewing machine. As he slid down the wall, mercifully, a pair of pale arms reached through a nearby window and pulled his limp body into the house.
Which would have been fantastic in three unfortunately hypothetical scenarios: if he had not unmistakably expired shortly thereafter on the floor of the house; if he had not subsequently revived with a degree of vigor that was difficult to explain away; or if the residents of the house did not happen to be, themselves, both undead and registered members of the new Guild of the Alternatively Living .
And so that time, it was Mrs. Cake muttering angrily, and Jack was tossed back into the frying pan for another round of fascinating lessons in culture and commerce in a city that worked.
no subject
(And when will the final scores be posted? I'm so nervous and excited!)
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It's going to be close...
edited to put an actual link in *headdesk*
Edited again to say: I just did the maths, and there's no way I can catch the person in second place - she's posted over 100 points of fic since the last tally, and I was already about 80 points behind. Still, 3rd isn't too shabby :D