The Problems of Duty and Curry
“But Mas- Master! Listen to me! Thousands die every day, it’s fate! You can’t change that! Not even you can do that! Gods know you’ve tried!” Albert entreated, hurrying after the Pony of Death as she made her way out of the library. The tiles cracked under every beat of her hooves, the stacks shook as Death’s creation responded to the anger of its new Mistress.
No! I can change it! He doesn't have to die!
“You’ve got his memories! Think back to Mort! He tried it, too!”
I can change it! It's not fair! It's not just!
“ ‘There is no justice!’ ”
Pinkie stopped, and turned her burning eyes on Albert.
“ ‘There is no justice’. That’s what you said. What HE said. ‘There is no justice, it’s just me.’ ” Albert’s old, waxy features entreated her, nearly desperate.
It's just me.
Pinkie’s eyes dimmed, and her head drooped.
Just me.
Albert stepped forward, but she held up a hoof.
I... need to think.
“Yes’m. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”
Minutes, hours, or perhaps days later, she was sitting, curled up, in the great leather chair that stood in Death’s Office, deep in thought.
She wasn’t feeling herself.
… She wasn’t feeling anything.
Resting between her hooves was a lifetimer, the wooden frame painted pink, and inscribed with the name ‘Aminata Odham’. She turned it over and over, the sand constantly flowing from one bulb into another, no matter which way up it was.
She remembered once, when she had been Him, that she had turned a life timer over and granted someone their life all over again. That wasn’t happening now, though. Perhaps the gods reserved such things for their own amusement.
She exhaled the sound of air escaping the hooded cloak more like a death rattle than a heartfelt sigh.
I could do with some amusement, she thought, out loud, the tone of her ‘voice’ vanishing into the all-encompassing hiss of sand falling through glass.
How long had she been here, in this world? Two days? Two weeks? Time stood still in Death’s Country, and Pinkie had been too busy with The Duty to keep track.
It was all becoming a blur, swallowed up in the vast recesses of her memory. His memory.
Their memory.
She remembered being in Ponyville, but she also remembered having never been there. She remembered Sugarcube Corner and her job, but she also remembered the slow aeons of watching the Disc turn, and The Duty.
She didn’t feel sad, or lonely. She just felt... Empty.
She’d noticed, when she stopped to look, that even the colours of the garden had faded away.
Everything was black. Her coat stood out in the darkness like a light from a candle. Her eyes burned brighter than any flame, but that was all the colour in the world.
She looked at the hourglass again, with the creeping realization that even what she had thought of as pink paint was really just a pink shade of black.
Suddenly, there always had been three grey, hooded robes floating in front of her desk.
The first time you showed up, I couldn't feel you doing that.
One said, Doing what?
Adjusting things. That's what you are, really, isn't it? Adjusters. You tweak and calibrate and clean up.
One said, That is one way of putting it.
Then we're not that different, are we?
One said, No.
One said, We are not.
Death, the Reaper. I clean up after everyone's gone. No time for the party. The staff don't get invited.
One said, This is what you chose.
One said, Do you regret it?
Pinkie glared at them.
I didn't choose this. You chose it. You adjusted.
She looked back down at her hooves.
It's not fair.
One said, The universe isn’t fair.
One said, But it continues.
One said, As do we all.
And then they had never been.
Death realised she hadn’t breathed back in.
Meanwhile, Bill Door was living through another strange new experience. It was not one he was entirely unfamiliar with, but he couldn’t truly say he’d ever lived through it before.
He scuffed his hoof on the carpet, aware of the overbearing silence weighing down on him, broken only by Rarity’s humming as she cooked. He glanced up, occasionally, to see the yellow pegasus standing there, hiding behind her hair and similarly scuffing her hoof.
Curiosity forced him to look up again, and their eyes met as she did the same.
There was a spark there, something he had never felt before.
He felt flushed, exposed, and far out of his depth.
In short, he felt acutely embarrassed. Despite himself, his rational mind was intrigued by this new sensation and immediately went to work studying it. The rest of him decided its time was far better spent by ignoring it entirely and focusing on something else.
The cat, for example. Opal had sidled up to him and was now rubbing herself against his legs, in that affectionate, I’m-hungry-and-you’re-not-doing-anything-important manner of felines. He reached down with the intent to pick her up, but realised half way there that his current, four-legged frame was not conducive to the picking up and cradling of small mammals.
He settled for rubbing Opal awkwardly, yet gently, with his hoof.
“O-oh, you like cats?” came a timid voice to his side, breaking the silence. He turned his head to see Fluttershy staring at him, wide-eyed with enthusiasm.
“Um. Yes. I like cats,” he replied, feeling more at ease with this level of conversation.
“Me too! They’re just so huggable and soft and friendly and...” Fluttershy trailed off when she realised the stallion was staring at her. “... uhm. Nice.”
“Do you have a cat?” he asked, trying to prevent another long, awkward silence.
“Oh, n-no. Well, kind of... I look after animals, you see, it’s my special talent. I have a few cats I take care of but they’re not mine, a-as such.” She watched as the stallion contined to stroke Opal, the normally violent little beast as tame as a manticore with a freshly de-thorned paw.
“I’m surprised, Opal’s usually so shy around strangers,” she said, at last (there followed a little hysterical giggle from the kitchen). “You must have a way with animals yourself, Mister... Uhm, I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Door. Bill Door.”
“I’m... Fluttershy.”
The two stood and stared at each other, while Bill Door idly continued to stroke Opal. He felt that flushing feeling from before, and slowly realised that he was feeling a burning sensation in his cheeks.
His brain’s initial panic of ‘why are my cheeks on fire’ soon melted into a sense of mild euphoria as he continued to stare, silently, at the yellow pegasus. Internally, his mind was racing, facing the unfamiliar assault of sensory information, a plethora of commands and demands from his own body, and, perhaps most unfamiliar of all, hormones.
Her delicate figure, her long mane, her lush coat, her eyes...
“Lunch is served!” Rarity called from the kitchen, interrupting Death’s train of thought. He realised he hadn’t been breathing, and took a sharp gulp of air. As Fluttershy trotted past him to the kitchen, he found his gaze wandering, taking in her, fine, shapely...
Death shook himself. This was not him. He was not ‘Bill Door’. He reasoned that he was just still... feeling a little ill. Nothing to do whatsoever with the apparent reversal of his natural anthropomorphogenic field and sudden loss of reality by means of his assistant taking over his job.
… Again.
The Pink Pony of Death swung the knife, cutting another cord and releasing another soul to their afterlife. The scythe still refused to obey her, so she was making do with one of the knives from Albert’s cutlery drawer.
The spectre said something to her, but she didn’t hear it. She watched the last glimmer of their soul fade as it flew away, and felt no emotion.
She hadn’t asked who they were.
She hadn’t listened to their questions.
She took another life timer from her robes, watching the last few minutes of sand ebb away. She realised she no longer cared where she would find this soul, or why they had to die. They were just grains of wheat, a part of the great harvest, and she was merely separating them from their chaff.
She turned, and the world melted beneath her hooves into a swirling, seething mass of nothing. This was The Duty. She had performed it for a thousand years, and a thousand again, since the Disc had been turning. She would dance the danse macabre until the last spark of life was snuffed from the universe, until Great A’Tuin itself came to journey’s end.
Swing. Cut. Bind.
Swing. Cut. Bind.
Swing. Cut. Bind.
Swing. Cut.
Swing.
The strong scent of tomato, coriander, cream and paprika rose from the dish. Bill Door just sat there a moment, savouring every sensation. The delicate hint of the spices, the stewed vegetables, the rice... It smelt real, vibrant.
He was quite a fan of curry, of course, and often stopped in the famed Curry Gardens of Ankh-Morpork after work. He realised now that perhaps the reason he’d taken to it was the rich explosion of flavour it contained, no matter which sauce or stock it used. Back then, even his poor imitation of sense was given a treat, but now that his senses were really working, (indeed, now that he had senses), they were nearly overwhelmed. He caught himself almost drooling at just the sight and scent of the meal alone.
Rarity, too, was happy to show off her skills in cooking. Sweetie Belle, like all foals her age, just wanted crispy carrot nuggets and chips, or other such simple staples of childhood. Her palate certainly couldn’t stand the rich and refined foodstuffs that Rarity preferred to eat, but she never enjoyed cooking such elaborate meals for just herself, and barely had the time to entertain guests.
She wouldn’t dare admit it, but the moment Bill Door had asked for curry, she’d made a hasty exit through the laundry room and galloped to the market for the right ingredients. The dish was nearly unknown in Ponyville, but was quickly becoming a fad among the upper crust of society, and like always Rarity kept her hoof on the nub of fashion.
Fluttershy had never seen the dish before, and was not entirely sure how to react to it. Or indeed, how to eat it. Given the large amount of sauce present, diving in muzzle first didn’t seem entirely sensible, but the pegasus was largely lacking in means of operating cutlery.*
Bill Door had encountered the same problem. His instinct had been to reach out his hoof and grab for the provided fork, but this had run into difficulties at the second step of the plan. He’d then thought of attempting to eat it out of his hoof. After all, that was the traditional way of eating a curry back in Klatch.
He hesitated, and looked around at the kitchen. Despite having just been used, it was as pristine as if it had been freshly installed. The table cloth was embroidered silk. Bill Door just knew that if he attempted to eat with his hoof, he’d drop something on the cloth. Similarly, he understood, at the very core of his being, that this would be the worst. Possible. Thing.
Instead he settled for occasionally glancing at Fluttershy, hoping she would begin eating and give him a cue as to what he was supposed to be doing.
Unfortunately, she was glancing at Bill Door with the same intentions. Both plates remained untouched.
After a few minutes of observing this in polite silence, Rarity gave in.
“... Is there something wrong, darlings? You’ve not even touched your curry!”
They looked at each other. They looked back at her, and opened their mouths to reply.
“I-”
“Uhm-”
They looked at each other again, and finally Fluttershy took the initiative.
“Uhm, I’m sure it’s lovely, but... I don’t want to make a mess,” she whispered, hiding sheepishly behind her fringe.
Rarity blinked.
“Oh! My poor darlings, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think! Let me get you some napkins... In fact, you’re right, I’m being far too formal, aren’t I? I’ll just take away that cloth...” before Fluttershy could protest, their plates were hoisted into the air as the cloth was whisked away, folded mid-air, and neatly placed into a waiting open draw. As that one slammed shut, another slid open, and a stream of white linen cloths danced out, arranging themselves in a pile on the table.
It was Bill Door’s turn to blink. Why didn’t the Wizards ever use their magic for tasks like that?
Rarity returned the plates to their proper places, and lifted her fork to begin. Half-way to the plate, she realised that this would be a little rude, given the circumstances, and slowly placed it back on the table. Smiling at Fluttershy and Bill Door, she gulped, summoned up her courage, and dove face-first into the plate, ignoring her brain screaming at her that she’d never get those oils stains out of her coat.
Satisfied, Fluttershy began taking tiny mouthfuls and chewing demurely. Bill Door remained looking perplexed, unaccustomed to the idea of eating a meal with one’s face without an intervening step involving the limbs in some way. Fortunately, he was spared further thought on the matter when Fluttershy leapt up from her chair and began flying around the kitchen, fanning her mouth and repeating ‘Ohmygoodnessohmygoodnessohmygoodness’.
Rarity sighed. This wasn’t going to plan.
* In fact, a Pegasus and Earth Pony line of cutlery had been developed in the past, but after several cases of petrification, accidental gelding, and an outbreak of Cutie Pox, they were recalled by Royal Edict and summarily destroyed.
Stats
Page generated in 0.026 seconds
Total duration
980 users online
1,833,881 hits today, 2,280,440 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
The frequency of these updates isn't good enough! It makes me crave more of this delectable feast!
Wow, this story is nearly two separate ones at this point. I'm loving it!! It allows me to spread my attention so thinly, yet keep a solid hold! A workout, if I say so, and I enjoy it!
Ciao!
62186
Much like a good curry, it can't be rushed!
Always nice to see an update
thank you
Love the note at the end.
62191
YES IT CAN! DO IT FASTER
In Equestria cutlery uses you!
Also perhaps the greatest crossover of all time!
I don't know what Death's problem is; I eat things with my face all the time.
Cats!
Yay! Excellent work! I'm not getting the same Pratchett vibe as in earlier chapters, but it's still superbly written.
I haven't read any Terry Pratchett. Yes, I know its a crime punishable by all manner of unspeakable things, but its not my fault! I have no money and I wouldn't know which book to start with!
Ahem. That said, I am very much enjoying this story and I feel an explicit urge to go and read some Discworld so maybe then I will actually recongise Character/Place names and be more familiar with basic concepts.
62414 Start with any book, from the library. It's supposed to be a series that you can pick up at any point. I went with The Fifth Elephant first.
Accidental gelding?
NO
62414 There was a good article on The Onion AV Club about where to get into this series. It's worth a read.
This has got to be the saddest Pinkie storyline ever.
Keep up the amazing work!
In short, he felt acutely embarrassed.
-Normally embarrassed, or romantically embarrassed? Probably just ordinary embarrassment.
He reached down
-He was standing bipedally?
the normally violent little beast as tame as a manticore with a freshly de-thorned paw.
-I suppose that since he DOES like them, that he would have studied how to be nice to them... there were probably mistakes along the way, but he had plenty of time to learn.
soon melted into a sense of mild euphoria
-Ah, so he DOES like her after all...
so she was making do with one of the knives from Albert’s cutlery draw.
-drawer
and felt no emotion.
-This is... very bad. Probably worse that Bill Door felling emotions. Pinkie Pie's goodness is bound up in her emotions, unlike his. Bill can learn to be good with emotions. Pinkie might never think to try to be good without them. Then again, she WAS probably a decent (if unhappy) filly on the rockfarm (if that ever actually happened) before the Rainboom, and perhaps she will remember that. Or maybe she will see a rainbow and remember... she might not feel, but she might recall that she SHOULD feel, and see if she can do something about it. What are rainbows on Diskworld? Anything special? I seem to recall the include octarien(sp?).
but after several cases of petrification, accidental gelding, and an outbreak of Cutie Pox,
-Enchanted then?
the worst. Possible. Thing.
-I take it that he is supernaturally attuned to be able to pick up the aura of good manners that surrounds Rarity, and to which most ponies (including most if not all of her friends are, sadly, insensible)?
Why didn’t the Wizards ever use their magic for tasks like that?
-Because, where-as Rarity is refined, Wizards are merely stuffed shirts. The difference may seem small to the uninitiated, but it is obvious to anyone who has studied the minds of creatures of sufficient mental complexity to have invented both curry and the desire not to drip curry on a table-cloth.
‘Ohmygoodnessohmygoodnessohmygoodness’.
-Merely too hot on the tongue, or did she neglect to close her nostrils and/or keep them above the surface-level of the curry?
Hm. So Pinkie Pie has lost that which makes her, well, Pinkie Pie, while Bill Door is becoming more and more a pony. The Discworld doesn't go in for straight-up happy endings, but they aren't generally downers either, and Equestria is practically made of happy endings, so...
Bill's been mortal before, but it hasn't had this effect on him. I wonder just how completely he's being transformed. Will he, at some point, no longer be bound by the right because he no longer counts as Death? If so, then the only obstacle to getting home will be that, no longer being Death, he'll lack the power to snap himself home.
But I find myself thinking that, in Equestria, if you name yourself Bill Door, becoming an opener of ways is not out of the realm of possibility. Especially if you're acquiring the leftover energies of the Element of Laughter.
Not that he'll be able to just go back and handle it himself, mind. Even if he finds a way to get back, he knows exactly jack about friendship. Oh, if only he had access to experts on the subject who also happen to know Pinkie very well and who would be concerned for her well-being...
Er, bound by the rite.
62949
He was standing bipedally?
Lowered his head. It's the same basic motion as reaching down for something when you're doing the reaching with your head.
I take it that he is supernaturally attuned to be able to pick up the aura of good manners that surrounds Rarity, and to which most ponies (including most if not all of her friends are, sadly, insensible)?
He's just rather more observant than most. Being on the outside and looking in for billions of years will do that to you. Even if he doesn't always get it right, he still notices things that others wouldn't.
Merely too hot on the tongue, or did she neglect to close her nostrils and/or keep them above the surface-level of the curry?
My thought was just the tongue, but I suppose getting chilli up the nose is not particularly desirable either.
Curry too hot for you Fluttershy? Eh, could be worse...
upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/0/0b/Labskaus.jpg
5 Stars & Tracking btw
I just found out about this Story on Equestria Dialy. I normally dont read fanfics. English is not my native language, that means i never completely understand an english text without taking a look at the dictonary. I do understand the Story and i usually do understand whats happening... at least roughly. But not beeing able to understand every Word and Sentence completely always gives me the feeling that i might be missing something (wich i probably do).
However, i decided to give it a try. I never red any Terry Pratchett and i dont know anything about the Discworld, but that picture of Death riding Pinkie just made me very curious.
Ok, now for the Story. As i said i normally dont read fanfics, so its hard to tell if this is, compared to others, a good one or not. But i know i really enjoyed reading it. So for me it is a good one.
However, the last Chapter left me a little sad. Pinkie losing her good cheer? Thats really sad and i hope it wont last for too long.
Well, i'll just have to wait like everyone else. I hope Equestria Daily will make a post aboutg the next chapter when its out. I dont have an account here, so i cant keep track of it directly. Or is there any other way?
Last word...
you showed me with this sotrry, that im not unable to understand english fanfics at all. Sure, there where some exceptions, i didnt understand everything at first. But it wasnt nearly as bad as i feared it to be. So, while waiting for your next Chapter i think i will try some other fanfics now.
God, this text got long.. and i bet its full of mistakes too. oh well..
62414
This handy reading order guide might be of service.
Hue
I adore Discworld, and I adore MLP. And I adore this fic. So, tracking and 5 stars from me, and now I have an idea for my own Discworld/MLP fic, so thanks for that!
I'm very impressed with this story - it manages to capture both discworld and mlp:fim to a 'T'.
Carry on, good author!
62414
A suggestion: Library.
A book to start with? 'Going Postal', followed up by 'Making money'. They are not the first in the series, but the great thing about that series is that very few of the books need to be read in order to be enjoyable. Those particular two involve the same main character, and the second takes place after the first in terms of linear storyline.
They're a real lol.
Wow. Fantastic balance of humor and plotline. I look forward to more, whenever it may come. Also, Fluttershy/Death is the most adorable crack pairing I have ever borne witness to.
Poor pinkie
, I just had an idea twilight could find the rite in an old tome preform it and have pinkie appear, thus alerting her to the plight of her friend
Poor Pinkie Pie!
Yes, "shy". Opal is "shy."
Amazing job, as always, at integrating Discworld with MLP.
But what about ponies magnet/sticky hooves stuff?
Im sooo confused by the end...
Are they fucking with Pinkie Pies memories?!