Thursday, 4 July 2013

OFUDisc Epilogue

The hillside was the sort of terrain which invokes words like ‘bleak’, ‘merciless’, or ‘desolate’. It was the kind of slope on which nothing ever happens – a bleak (there it is), soul-crushing nothingness that makes one want to scream just to feel something.

On this occasion, the sole occupant felt like screaming for another reason entirely. He’d been assured that however long his quest took, it would be less than five seconds in the present. That was all well and good, but in his personal timeline it had been closer to five months…

But this was the last. He had tracked this particular air current across a dozen miles before it had finally approached ground level, and now here he was. Staked out on the ground at his feet was a massive bedsheet, ready to catch the wind’s precious cargo. With a long-practiced eye he watched the wisp of black dust descend through the clear air, aimed directly at the sheet.

He was barely even surprised by the last-minute gust which shunted the powder sideways, onto bracken-covered ground.

With a weary curse, he pulled a bottle from his pack and glared at it. “You would have to be difficult,” he told it. “But I’m not playing anymore.” He uncorked the bottle and tipped the contents unceremoniously onto the ground. The black dust drifted down, coating a handful of flowers as he retrieved a far smaller, red bottle.

One drop of blood was all it took. The dust congealed, then burst upwards from the soil like the world’s largest earthworm. In seconds, a young woman stood on the hillside. She wrinkled her nose and looked down at herself distastefully.

“Why,” she began, “and I ask this with great trepidation, do my clothes smell of heather and fox droppings?”

The Administrator of OFUDisc sighed. “Yukimona,” he said tiredly. “Welcome back. It’s time to go home.”

Disclaimer: The Discworld is the creation of Sir Terry Pratchett. The Official Fanfiction University concept is the creation of Miss Cam. Yukimona is based on an application to OFUDisc. All details of (and mistakes in) plot, narrative and dialogue are mine. Thanks to the Irish Samurai for betaing.

Author’s Note: And so it ends. With Time’s assistance, all the students of OFUDisc have been recovered – and since this iteration of the Discworld is now under Ispace control, the year has been terminated. The Administrator has gone into hiding, and all students have been sent home.

Well… perhaps not all. Stay tuned for The Ispace Wars. And thank you for reading!

Thursday, 27 June 2013

OFUDisc Chapter 15

After a lunch consisting solely of their own cooking – Albert being an avid proponent of Learning Through Pain – the students of OFUDisc took a quick stroll from Ankh over to Ephebe. Now that she was aware of it, Phoebe found the absurdity of this almost too much to handle, but sadly her disapproval had little to no effect on the placid landscape. Cabbages gave way to sand, and they soon found themselves filing into a massive stone-built stadium.

"I don't recall any canonical mentions of stadia in Ephebe," Raen expounded as they assembled on the dusty track, "but this is clearly in the classical Greek mode, so it's a reasonable supposition."

"Didn't the Greeks do their athletics naked?" Nenya asked in a dreamy voice. At Raen's dubious nod, she pointed at the approaching figure in his moth-eaten red robe. "Do you think we could persuade him to keep the tradition?"

Rincewind came to a reluctant halt in front of the girls. Studying him – as all her classmates were – Phoebe decided the rodent-based descriptions of him were accurate: a weasel-faced man with a ratty beard and mouse-nibbled wardrobe who held himself like a rabbit on the verge of flight. She felt kind of sorry for him.

Thursday, 20 June 2013

OFUDisc Chapter 14

The mood was unsettled as Class Two made their way to their first lesson the following day. The two surviving vampires, Iplis and Lucy2, travelled under what was essentially armed guard – Raen with her knife and the alarmingly stern Lindyellwen with her sharpened hoof. The conversation in the rest of the diminished group was superficially normal, but tension lurked like a shark below the surface, its ripples touching the minds of all.
All, that is, except Phoebe and Penny, who chatted away as if they hadn't a care in the world. Eventually, Liliac – who had been checking up on Tisea, making sure she'd recovered from Kai's attempt to drain her dry – joined them. 

"Doing okay, then, Penny?" Liliac asked with forced cheer. 

Penny nodded. "Pretty much all healed now," she said. "Kaitlyn thinks the vamps had some sort of coagulant on their fangs – which makes no sense, by the way, and I don't think it's canon, so it's on the list – but that's why we've healed so fast." 

Liliac frowned at her. "You're really okay?" she pressed. "No lingering psychological trauma or anything? I mean, if you're going to go Bursar on us I need to know." 

Penny glanced across at the subdued figure of Iplis and sighed softly. "It still hurts to think about, if that's what you mean," she said, one hand rising to rub her throat absently. "But Phoebe's done a good job of taking my mind off it." 

Phoebe giggled, an incongruous sound in the general gloom. "You're welcome," she said, and Penny smiled back at her. 

Saturday, 18 May 2013

OFUDisc Chapter 13

That night, Phoebe lay awake in the near-darkness, listening to the sounds of the dormitory. Statistically, she knew, three (well, 2.9) of the girls in Class Two were likely to be gay. That meant that the no less than five pairs sharing beds – including, of all people, Gaia and Nenya – couldn't possibly all be sleeping together – right?

Her gaze strayed from the ceiling to the bed under the dorm's one barred window. That was Penny's bed – but she wasn't in it alone. In the faint starlight Phoebe could make out the occasional movement of the hunched shapes of two women.

A frown touched Phoebe's face. That was a very hunched figure. It looked less like – well, whatever legitimate things Penny and Iplis might be getting up to – and far more like one person kneeling by another's pillow, bending down...

Thursday, 16 May 2013

OFUDisc Chapter 12

"This is ridiculous," Phoebe muttered, her foot making a sucking noise as she pulled it out of the latest puddle.

"I would have said 'disgusting'," Iplis disagreed, skirting the same puddle. "What about you, Penny?"

"Hmm? Oh." Penny shook herself. "Yes," she said vaguely, and then her brow furrowed again as she lost herself in thought.

Iplis kissed the Assassin quickly on the cheek, shooting Phoebe a 'what can you do?' look. "We have to catch up with them soon," she pointed out, gesturing at the footprints they were following. "You can see for yourself they kept stopping – and we haven't."

"Assuming they're from the OFU at all," Phoebe said, scowling. "They could be anyone's footprints."

Sunday, 12 May 2013

OFUDisc Chapter 11

A subdued Liliac rejoined Class Two as they made their daily walk from Uberwald down to Ankh-Morpork. She glanced over the column as she slipped in between Phoebe and Cazzie. "Where's Lindyellwen?" she whispered to Phoebe.

Phoebe didn't look round. "With a doctor in the city," she said in a low voice. "Are you asking because she's an elf?"

Liliac blinked. "Well, yes."

"And is that why you claimed to be my friend, too?"

"... oh." Liliac shook her head slightly. "Phoebe, protecting elves is my job, but that doesn't mean I have to like them. Personally I think Lindyellwen is a vapid waste of oxygen."

Wednesday, 8 May 2013

OFUDisc Chapter 10

"Well, Lindy's settled in with the doctor," Cazzie said, walking into the dormitory. "He said he'd give her a hearty meal of oats and put her in the pasture overnight, but I think he was joking."

"Probably not," Penny said absently, leaning back against Iplis. "That sounds like Doughnut Jimmy. He usually treats racehorses."

"Why does it not surprise me," asked Mercuria loudly, "that this shamble of a university can't afford a real doctor?"

"Ignoramus," Raen snorted. "Everyone knows Doughnut Jimmy – Doctor James Folsom, I should say – is the best medical practitioner in Ankh."

"We're not all as obsessive-compulsive about these things as you, Assassin," Mercuria snapped back, and Raen's butter knife seemed to teleport to her hand.

"Insult me again", the PPCer said in a low voice. "I dare you."

Sunday, 5 May 2013

OFUDisc Chapter 9

"Do you know," said Phoebe as they walked out of Ankh and into the Ramtops, "I think that's the first lesson we've actually finished."

"Oh, surely not," Cazzie disagreed. "We finished woodwork, right?"

"If you call that 'finished'," Phoebe retorted. "Did anyone do the actual work?"

"We did," chimed in Liliac, "didn't we, Pen- oh." Penny was deep in conversation with Iplis, and didn't even seem to notice Liliac's question. "Well, anyway," the girl with multicoloured hair went on, "we totally finished our idol – I mean, project."

"And then there was Pretty Butterfly's class," Cazzie pointed out. "Remember, she – oh, that's right, you were busy."

"Okay," Phoebe said, giving in, "I guess what I mean is, that's the first class I've finished."

"No argument there," Liliac agreed. "Shiftless layabout, that's you."

Friday, 3 May 2013

OFUDisc Chapter 8

"I can't believe you killed her!"

"I didn't kill anyone," Phoebe snapped. "She fell down a hole. I just did the cleaning up."

"But you let her fall!" Liliac insisted. Phoebe scowled and lengthened her stride.

"It's her own fault, and she'll be back soon anyway. Look, what's Mercuria to you, anyway? You barely know the girl."

Liliac shrugged uncomfortably. "She's an elf," she failed to explain. "You know how it is."

"She's not an-" Phoebe bit off the sentence. "No, I don't know. Can you be any clearer?"

"Not really," Liliac said. "Just call it a Thing, okay?"

Tuesday, 23 April 2013

OFUDisc Chapter 7

That night, Class Two's dormitory was home to twenty young(ish) women, one (invisible) anthropomorphic personification – and one piece of clockwork.

"It's not fair!" Esme Something declared stridently from where she lay, ticking softly, on her bed. "The paperwork asked what you wanted to be brought back as, right? Well, I wanted to be in the City Watch!"

"Don't blame you," Tisea murmured, and Saphie nodded in agreement. They were both Vimes lusters (although Saphie also had other tastes), and Phoebe found it hard to keep herself from nodding along. Esme... probably would have scowled, had her face been anything other than the sort with numbers.

"So I put it down, and what do they make me? A freaking timepiece!"

"You may have meant... what you said," Raen said quietly, cleaning her nails with a butter knife (a substitute for the daggers she hadn't been allowed to bring), "but what you wrote..."

"... was just 'Watch', I know," Esme finished in a disgusted tone. "I didn't know they'd take it like that!"

"Should've been more careful, then," Nenya murmured. "Words are important, you know."

Wednesday, 17 April 2013

OFUDisc Chapter 6

"She called herself Llama," Phoebe explained quietly as the girls walked to their next class. "Said she was the anthropomorphic personification of insanity."

"And she's a student?" Penny repeated. "I wouldn't have thought they'd allow that level of... well, okay, there's you, but..."

"So where is she now?" Liliac asked, looking over the class. "She sounds like my sort of person."

Phoebe shook her head. "I can't see her unless I'm on call," she said. "See, I just put the Death of Fangirls thing in the notes, but hers is her species. She's on the job all the time."

"Must be nice to be able to skip class, though," Cazzie mused. Phoebe smiled wryly.

"Apparently she's still required to go," she pointed out. "All the work, none of the social perks..."

Friday, 12 April 2013

OFUDisc Chapter 5

The first thing that began to bother Phoebe as she settled into the first class of the day was the anxious look some of the students were giving the door. All right, everyone was looking across occasionally, wondering who the teacher would be (they were back in Unseen U, so it could be Rincewind – or Ponder), but a few of them – Phoebe noticed Kai, Yukimona and Maligna Chiroptera, all three of them vampires – looked particularly concerned, as if they could see something the others couldn't. Probably they can smell garlic or something, she mused.

The second thing, and this really got to her, was the empty seats. They were doing her head in. She counted six, which made one for each of the four deaths so far – Esme, Becky, Kisheara and Tindomiel – and, oh, the last one was probably where Penny's absent friend Vemi would have sat.

That's only five, a treacherous corner of her mind told her. What about the sixth?

She decided she must have miscounted. Let's see, one, two, three and four... five.

And the one by the window?

No, she'd done that one. Try again, though, starting there. One, two and three, four, five.

This time you missed the one in the front row, the little voice told her, but she firmly ignored it. There were no mysteries here.

Sunday, 7 April 2013

OFUDisc Chapter 4

Breakfast the next morning was a subdued affair, provided 'subdued' is an acceptable synonym for 'insane'. The brochures (which Phoebe had read as well as anyone, ie, she'd looked at the pictures) had promised an all-you-can-eat buffet of regional specialities, and the promise had been spectacularly fulfilled. Unfortunately, the students hadn't quite got the hang of the OFU teaching methods, so were rather incautious about what they ate.

"It looked perfectly normal!" Kisheara explained. "How was I supposed to know it was dwarf bread?"

"The bit where you hit yourself over the head with it might have been a hint," Phoebe muttered as she swung the scythe. Kisheara shrugged.

"By the time I realised my skull was cracked it was a bit late. So what happens-" A miniature sea-chest covered in creepers – Sam Vines, Phoebe thought – leapt from under the table, and Kisheara was gone. Phoebe started to walk back to her friends, the crowd moving unconsciously out of her way (although the various vampires gave her worried looks). Then there came a long scream, and she span round to see Tindomiel throw a coffee mug onto the floor and run straight through the Class 2 dining room's fifth-storey window.

The Death of Fangirls was waiting for her when she hit the ground. She listened to the girl's complaint – "How could I possibly have known it was Klashian coffee?" – then swung the scythe and left her for the newly-manifested camel-hair bag to take care of.

Tuesday, 2 April 2013

OFUDisc: Chapter 3

The arrival of Ponder Stibbons had not, Phoebe suspected, gone the way Ridcully had hoped. Half a dozen students had jumped the young Head of Inadvisably Applied Magic, with one of them – the incredibly-named Lucy2 "Diamanda2" Tockley2-Stibbons – screaming "Husband! Husband!" all the while. Nenya Gabriel, being the oldest human class member, had taken the opportunity to sneak out in search of refuge (or just possibly, as she commented later, in search of Rincewind), but had walked straight into an Administrator. His appearance had calmed things down some, although Saphie had taken one look at him and collapsed in a dead faint.

So Day One of OFUDisc classes had clattered to its end, and the students were set to walking to their quarters. On the way, shortly before they left Ankh-Morpork, a girl named Becky had committed suicide – at least, that's what Phoebe understood it to be called when you trip over, knock three trollish market stalls through Chrysoprase's front window... and then go inside when invited. When Phoebe had picked her up, she had seemed confused: "This wasn't supposed to happen!" she'd exclaimed. "I'm meant to be the main-" And then she'd been eaten by a battered-looking medical case. Such is death.

Thursday, 28 March 2013

OFUDisc: Chapter 2

Class 2's first lesson had gone well – at least by OFU standards, which list student discomfort as the highest imperative. Complaints to the Administration about the spinning kicks Pretty Butterfly punctuated her instruction with (the hairstick had been retired after Esme's fall – it had made its point) were returned by a sniggering Death of Rats – and there's only so many times you can hear 'SNH SNH SNH' before you give up. The group were on their way to their second lecture – which presented a minor problem for the Administration.

"Students? In my University?"

Mustrum Ridcully strode down a corridor, deliberately lengthening his steps so that the OFUDisc pest had to scurry to keep up. "I won't have it, sir, I simply will not have it."

The pest in question – an Administrator in a sensible suit with a white t-shirt just visible underneath – sighed. "Not for long, Archchancellor," he said. "This isn't like last time."

"You mean when you and that bird-woman insisted I had to house the lot of you?" Ridcully snapped. "Good. Nothing but trouble, students."

"Which is why we intend to make a brief visit, teach them that magic is Not To Be Meddled With, and move on," the pest agreed. The Archchancellor raised an eyebrow.

"That's your game? Well, can't say I object to the lesson, at least." He sighed, stopped, turned to face the Administrator. "This came from the Hat, you say?"

"Directly, sir," the pest acknowledged. Ridcully nodded.

"Drat," he said. "Then I don't seem to have much choice. All right, lead the way."

The Administrator blinked. "I wasn't asking you to teach them..." he managed. Ridcully snorted.

"What – tell one of the Faculty they have to teach students? Not on my watch, sir. This Archchancellor won't lead where others follow!" And off he marched, leaving the pest staring in his wake.

Phoebe already had a backache from pulling herself onto a low-flying monolith, leg-ache from the five-mile hike beforehand, and various other -aches from Pretty Butterfly's kicks on her return (she had, it appeared, unaccountably missed most of the lesson). Now she could feel a headache coming on. All that was needed to complete her misery would be people shouting and screaming.

"Right then, you chaps!" came the bellow on-cue. "As Archancellor of this University, I am here to whip you into – oh I'm terribly sorry." The robed figure of Ridcully entered the room and stopped dead. "I may have the wrong room."

"I don't think we're what he was expecting," the girl next to Phoebe whispered, and giggled. Phoebe's chance to reply was lost in a high-pitched squeal, and a pink-clad girl flung herself towards Ridcully.

"Mustard!" she screamed as she threw her arms around him, not noticing (or not caring) how the wizard's entire body stiffened. "Mustard Ridicully! I'm your biggest fan ever! Oh em gee!" Something hit the ground with a thud just outside the door, and Phoebe caught a glimpse of a small suitcase.

"His face'll match his robes soon," Phoebe's neighbour murmured, and held out her hand. "I'm Liliac, by the way. Like the colour only not."

"Um, Phoebe," said Phoebe, shaking her hand. The other girl had blonde streaks running through her otherwise brown hair, and Phoebe couldn't resist asking, "Did you put that on your form?"

"The application?" Liliac's lip twisted. "No, I was boring. I should have, though. Your Death thing is awesome."

"Well, sort of," Phoebe agreed dubiously. She glanced towards the door, where the Ridcully fangirl was still clinging, making soft 'oh em gee' noises all the time. The emotion building up in Ridcully appeared to have reached boiling point, and sure enough (to mix up the metaphor a little), it erupted.

"What. Is. This?" Ridcully ground out. "You – girl – explain yourself."

The fangirl beamed up at him. "My name is Lindyellwen," she said in a rapid, singsong squeak. "I'm the princess of the Silverwood only I didn't know that because I was kidnapped at birth and raised by an evil person but my real parents Killewonwyn and Jonydkled found me after years and rescued me and also I'm the mistress of air and water and guardian of the book of light and-"

"Be quiet!" Ridcully cut her off. "Don't you breathe, creature? What are you?"

"I'm not a creature!" Lindyellwen protested. "I'm an elf and I happen to be two million eight hundred and ninety-three thousand nine hundred and four years old!"

Phoebe sprang to her feet without any clear idea why she was doing so – it certainly didn't feel like another call to the Duty. "You're no elf!" she exclaimed. "I'm the only elf here!" She stopped, gasping for breath, and realised everyone was staring. She felt her cheeks start to burn and sat down hurriedly. Burying her face in her hands, she mumbled, "I don't know why I did that."

There was an electronic beep, and she turned her head to see Liliac slipping a complicated-looking bit of equipment back into her pocket.

"You're a Token Elf," the other girl informed her. "Apparently that means you can't stand the presence of other elves; your instincts tell you you're the only one."

"I am the only-" Phoebe snapped, cutting herself off with a hand over her mouth. "Okay, but why? I applied as a Tolkien elf."

"Because there's no Tolkien here," a whispered voice said from behind them. "Believe me, I'd know."

Phoebe turned to see a short, bespectacled girl leaning forward. "How?" she asked. The other shrugged.

"I applied to OFUM, but they say my papers got misfiled. Cazzie, by the way. And you must be Phoebe. You're a little bit famous."

"Um, nice to-" Phoebe began.

"Magic!" boomed Ridcully in a faintly desperate voice, and the three girls looked round to see Lindyellwen pinned to the floor by a small ambulatory suitcase, leaving the Archchancellor free to teach. Liliac's lip set in a thin line, but she ignored Phoebe's inquisitive look.

"Magic is what makes the Discworld, what keeps it going. It is in everything; indeed in some ways, Mr. Stibbons tells me, it is everything." Ridcully looked over the class. "Which of you... children can name any of the groups who use magic?"

"Wizards!" several voices called at once, and Ridcully nodded, a hint of satisfaction on his face. Encouraged, a girl named Hawkelf added, "And witches!"

"To a lesser extent," Ridcully agreed. "A wizard draws-"

"And priests!" shouted another student. Ridcully scowled.

"Gods-bothering is hardly the same as magic. To continue-"

"Don't forget astronomers!" put in a girl dressed as either a vampire or someone who has never heard of the colour 'not black'. The wizard's face darkened further.

"Men who stare at the sky all night-" he began, but was interrupted again – by Cazzie.

"Sourcerers, too," she called, and shrugged when Phoebe and Liliac stared at her. "I never said I didn't read Discworld," she pointed out.

Ridcully's face was thunderous to behold. "There are no sourcerers on the Disc," he declared, "and-"

"Sure there are," one girl – Andy – said. "There's one in Class 4."

"No, didn't you hear?" put in her friend Saphie. "She got downgraded. She's just a saucer now."

The sound of Ridcully's teeth grinding filled the room. "But perhaps," he said in an exquisitely polite tone, "the theory of magic is not the best starting point. We will proceed directly to the practical demonstration." He pushed up his sleeves and began to mutter under his breath, coloured lights springing into existence around his head. The class leant forward to watch – except for the few most cautious, who leant back instead (and Phoebe noted a few of the oldest ones trying to sneak out of the door). Finally, Ridcully straightened up, one hand held in front of him. "Observe," he said, "the common fireball."

The mini-Luggage Mustard Ridicully leapt away as the incandescent orb struck Lindyellwen full on. The class gasped in dismay – Liliac actually started to her feet – and Phoebe braced herself for the call of the Duty. If ever there was a fangirl in need of a death...

But the call never came. Her lurid pink top still smouldering, Lindyellwen leapt to her feet and gave Ridcully a brilliant smile. The Archchancellor spluttered, "But... how?" The smile widened.

"Oh, Mustard," she said affectionately, "how clever of you figuring it out!" She turned to the rest of the class, still beaming. "Didn't you know?" she asked them. "Elves can't die."

Ridcully tried to dodge, but moved too slowly. With Lindyellwen's arms once more locked around his waist, he scowled at the class. "Can't die, eh?" he grumbled. "We'll see about that, whatever you are." He drew in a deep breath and bellowed:


Disclaimer: All Discworld canon characters and locations are the creations of Sir Terry Pratchett. The Official Fanfiction University concept is the creation of Miss Cam. Phoebe is based on an application to OFUDisc by Fawkes Phoenix. All other students are based on applications to OFUDisc. All details of (and mistakes in) plot, narrative and dialogue are mine. Thanks to the Irish Samauri for betaing.

Author's Note: Lindyellwen is based entirely on her application form. Right down to 'Elves can't die'.

Tuesday, 26 March 2013

OFUDisc: Chapter 1

The first death in Class 2 occurred approximately three minutes into Pretty Butterfly's lecture on underused elements. "We'll start with a few easy questions," the Auriental woman said, tossing a lacquered hairstick idly from hand to hand. "Can anyone tell me what is worn by an alumnus of Unseen University?"

"A pointy hat!" went up the cry from several cross-legged students. Pretty Butterfly shook her head in disappointment.

"Oh, dear, and it's in the very first book, too. No-one? Hm, perhaps too tricky. How about this – where are pyramids most commonly found?"

"Egypt!" called one student – Phoebe thought her name was Esme something. Pretty Butterfly scowled.

"Clearly my sister is rubbing off on me; I forgot to consider that you're all as thick as... well, students. Do any of you even know who my father is?"

Silence hung heavy – except for the somewhat sullen voice of Esme. "I actually do know this one – it's Rinsewind!"

Phoebe didn't even see the hairstick leave Pretty Butterfly's hand – just heard the thud as, with unerring accuracy, it lodged itself an inch deep in Esme's textbook. "However you try to spell his name, the so-called Great Wizzard is definitely not-" Pretty Butterfly began, then stopped, frowning "Where is she?"

Several of the students near Esme's empty spot pointed – over the edge of the hovering menhir, into the clouds below. There was a muffled thud, and Pretty Butterfly sighed. "Typical."

Sunday, 24 March 2013

OFUDisc: Chapter 0


The Abbot was still a young man – about six years old, on this particular cycle – but he had already regained his booming voice. Or at least, it would be booming when it broke. For now, 'strident' was probably the politest way to describe it. Lu-Tze the Sweeper hurried through the door into the Mandala hall and stopped dead. There weren't many things that could halt Lu-Tze in his tracks, but the pattern still forming in the sand was one of them.

"Lancre again?" he asked, his worried eyes finding the Abbot's face.

The other monk shrugged. "Similar," he agreed. "But the location...?"

Lu-Tze studied the pattern – stable now, even beginning to fade. After a long silence, he checked no-one else was present, and admitted, "I don't know."

"Can you find out?"

The Sweeper shook his head slowly. "It is written, 'I'm stumped'. It looks like it's everywhere – or nowhere – or both."

The Abbot of the History Monks nodded. "Then... your protégé?"

Lu-Tze looked startled. "The boy? I wouldn't begin to know how to reach him."

"I see." The Abbot's mouth set in a thin line. "Then you cannot help?"

"... well, I do have one idea," Lu-Tze admitted, glancing towards the door. "But I'll have to persuade Qu to let me into his kitchen again..."

The Official Fanfiction University of Discworld

Dear fangirls, I beg your pardon, students,

As you have no doubt realised, the Official Fanfiction University of Discworld is not a joke. It is not a prank. We are not your brother, sister, friend or enemy attempting to fool you. We are not kidding. We are deadly serious.

The above sentence is not hyperbole.

Following the example of Miss Cam and the staff of OFUM, this facility will adopt the principles of Learning Through Pain in our efforts to teach you the virtues of writing good-quality fanfiction instead of mediocre scrawl or appaling drivel. You are not expected to enjoy this. Please let us know if you are, and we will attempt to make adjustments.


The Administration

Monday, 4 February 2013

OFUDisc - A Summary

The Official Fanfiction University of Discworld was founded twice, eight years apart. At its second founding, the students from the first were written in by the Administrator - but they were written in as they had been nearly a decade before. As the girls attempted to resolve their confusion over exactly how old they were, they faced off against their own vampiric co-students - including one Iplis, who successfully seduced Agent Penny of the PPC - and against Ispace, the Interdimensional Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Elves.

Ispace had a goal: to stop people abusing fictional elves at all costs. Whether those elves were canon characters, OFU students, or Mary-Sues, didn't matter - and ultimately, Ispace launched a full-on attack on OFUDisc. They were driven off, but took one of the students with them - Phoebe, the Death of Fangirls. Phoebe had been friends with Liliac, the Ispace infiltrator, and with Cazzie - but especially with Penny, who now returned to the PPC...

Sunday, 3 February 2013

OFU-Squared Sueniversity Listing

As part of the OFU2 initiative, it has proven sadly necessary to compile a list of Sueniversities to be discussed and... 'gently corrected'. More accurately, this is a list of suspected and suggested Sueniversities. Final confirmation of status will take place before any filming is undertaken. If you are the author, creator, or management of any of the linked universities, we'd like to talk to you! We can discuss why your work is on this list, potentially help you to improve it, and get it removed from consideration. OFU2 is an education enterprise, after all - we want people to learn!

The Listing
Fandoms: About half a dozen.
Chapters: 12. Words: Unknown.
Fandom: Hetalia - Axis Powers
Chapters: 33. Words: 19,847

Hetalia Writing University
Fandom: Hetalia - Axis Powers
Chapters: 1. Words: 796
Fandom: Star Trek - Voyager
Chapters: 16. Words: 20,150 

Traning Time Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Chapters: 6. Words: Unknown.

Saturday, 2 February 2013

The Protectors of the Plot Continuum

The Protectors of the Plot Continuum, or PPC, is a trans-dimensional organisation dedicated to fighting the scourge of bad fanfiction in the places it hurts most - the fictional Word Worlds of Canon. PPC Agents, from the Departments of Mary-Sues, Bad Slash, Implausible Crossovers and more, step through their blue portals into badfics, record their charge lists, and... rectify the problems. They are the militant wing of the Canon Protection Initiative, and its most visible - and numerous - adherents.

From another point of view, the PPC is a shared fictional universe invented by Jay and Acacia way back in 2002, and since written for by dozens if not hundreds of fans. PPC authors take bad fanfics and dissect them in story form - a form of combined catharsis and entertainment.

General Links

The Original Series by Jay and Acacia, which started it all
The PPC Wiki, a treasure trove of trivia
The official 'FAQ For Other People', for if you've had a story killed by us
The Guide to the PPC, for a summary of who we are and what we write

OFUDisc Students
For characters mentioned in the OFUDisc Files

Penny - OFUDisc Student and Department of Mary-Sues Agent
Vemi - (missing) OFUDisc Student and Department of Mary-Sues Agent
Raen - OFUDisc Student and Department of Mary-Sues Agent
Nenya - OFUDisc Student and Department of Multiple Offenses Agent
Kaitlyn - OFUDisc Student and Department of Character Protective Services Caseworker

Reluctant Warriors
For additional characters mentioned in The Ispace Wars

The Sunflower Official - Head of the Department of Mary-Sues
Estelnar - Department of Mary-Sues Agent and Former Tabloid Editor
Kayleigh - Conspiracy Theorist and Department of Bad Slash Agent
Dafydd - Former Department of Geographical Aberrations Agent
Constance - Former Department of Mary-Sues Agent
Narto - Former Department of Geographical Aberrations Agent
Lou - Former Department of Geographical Aberrations Agent (sort of)

Friday, 1 February 2013

The Mini-Luggage Adoption Centre

In the grand tradition of Fanfiction Universities, OFUDisc is seeking to send all of its mini-Luggages to good homes. As the minis are spawned by the endless misspelling of canon names, they will be listed here.

To adopt a mini, simply select one without a home, and leave a comment here specifying the name under which you wish to adopt it. Your name will be noted as the mini's official adopter, and you will be given a special certificate of ownership, either in reply to your comment or by email.

To keep things fair, we're keeping things on a one-mini-per-person, first-come-first-served basis. Additionally, if you have previously adopted a mini-Luggage (freelance, as it were), we encourage you to register them here so we can add them to the list. All previous adopters will receive credit and a certificate - and if two people have contrived to adopt the same mini, we'll organise some sort of time-share.

Any PPC writers who want their Agent to also adopt their mini - that's fine. Let us know, and we'll issue twin adoption certificates.

The Mini-Luggage Master List

Albert O'Malley
Alberto Malice
Old Burn
Carrrot - adopted by DawnFire (& PPC Agent Edgar Sullivan)
Chair of Desperately Studly
Doctor Lunch
dried fog pills

Granny Wetherwax
Granhy Weatherwax
Hexxx - adopted by Outhra

Klashian Coffee
Lecturer in Decent Rooms - adopted by the Irish Samurai
Library Nun
Lubsang - adopted by Ivan the Not-so-Terrible

ms. Cakes
Mustard Ridicully
Nanny Og

Rinsewind - adopted by Huinesoron
San Vimes - adopted by Khaosity
Sam Vines
Seedier Waggler
Susan Sto Hellit

Unclean University

Thursday, 3 January 2013

OFU-Squared: Welcome

A black screen.

Out of the darkness something bright and cheerful comes spinning: a sunshine-yellow smiley face. As it approaches, it becomes clear that 'cheerful' is either an understatement or an outright lie – the teeth-baring smile reaches far above where its ears would be, utterly dominating the face and giving the whole thing a distinctly malevolent aspect.

The image – the logo, though of what it is not made clear – holds for a long moment. And then another. And another. It holds for long enough that any viewer might begin to feel like it is... watching them? And when it fades – is it vanishing, or simply... going elsewhere?

A desk fades into view. It is large, solid, wooden, and set in a stone-walled room. On the shelves around it sit a handful of egg-timers, several heaps of paperwork, and a battered red handbag. A man is standing in front of the desk, looking at the camera.

"Good morning," he says, "or afternoon, or evening, or potentially night. I am Doctor Huinesoron, the Administrator of the Official Fanfiction University of Discworld, and I am here to welcome you to the Official Fanfiction University of Official Fanfiction Universities!"

The man rubs the bridge of his nose. "Yes, I know how that sounds," he admits. "We call it OFU2, or OFU-Squared, for what I hope are obvious reasons." He considers this, and adds, "In fact, if they aren't obvious reasons, you may have further to go in becoming an OFU Coordinator than you think."

Doctor Huinesoron picks up a sheet of paper and scans it. "As you know – by which I mean, as we hope you know, but have learnt not to expect – you have been accepted as a student of OFU2 due to your expressed desire to create an Official Fanfiction University of your own. Your desire is to be commended – however, it says nothing about your skill level.

"It is a sad fact that some who attempt to run OFUs fail miserably at their stated task. They drive their staff members wildly out of character, allow fangirl students of the worst kind complete freedom from consequences, and distort the very fabric of the world – all while purporting to teach their students how not to do these exact things!

"From this tragic state of affairs has arisen OFU2. As your astute minds will no doubt have detected, this is a distance-learning university. Your lessons and lectures will be delivered in the form of videos filmed by myself and other OFU Course Coordinators. You will be expected to watch these, and take notes, because yes, there is an exam at the end of it.

"The Headmistress – and if you have gotten this far you ought to be able to figure out who that is in short order – has expressed concern that the ideals of Learning Through Pain may be neglected by this video format. She need have no such fear. As part of your education, we will be walking through several 'Sueniversities', OFUs which managed to get everything precisely wrong. And to ensure that you experience the pain of seeing such things just as much as we do, you will be writing a 10,000-word essay detailing and analysing the Sueniversity of your choice."

Doctor Huinesoron smiles at the camera. "One more thing," he notes. "It may have occurred to the brighter among you that OFU2 is unlikely to collect any minis of its own, and thus, that you will not be under the usual threat of danger, distress and dismemberment. On your first point, you would be correct – but not the latter. Rinsewind!"

The battered red handbag on the shelves suddenly sprouts hundreds of tiny little legs and leaps down onto the desk. Doctor Huinesoron pats it gently and smiles.

"This is a mini-Luggage," he explains. "I will be donating several to the service of OFU2 – and my colleagues on the teaching staff will be following suit. Since we have access to PPC-designed portal technology, we can reach you if needed."
He pauses a moment, and his smile widens into something approaching the OFU emblem at the beginning of the video.

"In fact, this may be a good time to look behind you," he suggests. "I hope you have some bacon handy..."

Disclaimer: OFU2: Welcome is written by Huinesoron. The OFU concept is the property and creation of Miss Cam. All Discworld material belongs to Terry Pratchett.



They are a blight on the multiverse. They are the end result of decades of neglect by those who should know better. They are an eyesore, an atrocity, a- sorry, what's that? What are they? Oh.

A Sueniversity is a fanfiction written along the lines of the Official Fanfiction University of Middle-earth. However, unlike the many authorised spinoffs - those which were specifically authorised by Miss Cam, and those which follow in her footsteps - these Sueniversities do not promote goodfic over bad. They do not encourage Learning Through Pain. They do not put a stop to fangirlish activities.

In short, a Sueniversity is a Fanfiction University - with all the hallmarks of the OFU brand, such as lessons taught by canon characters, cruelty to students, etc etc - which... doesn't do its job. It's badly written, it lets the fangirls run riot, the canons are out of character - you get the gist.
No more. The problem has been recognised at last, and it will be addressed. Those who know the most about creating OFUs - the Course Coordinators of Miss Cam's heirs - have banded together to form the Official Fanfiction University of Official Fanfiction Universities.

OFU2 is here. Prepare to learn.


Wednesday, 2 January 2013

Ispace Chapter Six: Fight For Your Life

With the onset of the Alarm, Agents and Department Heads gathered in the Admin foyer. Everyone was there - Sauron in his black cloak, the Medical team, led by Elanor Gamgee, in white . . . even Rachel from Supplies had turned up, and was distributing a variety of interesting weapons to the assembled.

Glorfindel swept out of his office, green cloak billowing around him. Bilbo- san and Malfoyelf stepped into guard positions at his side as he spoke to the assembled horde.

"We are in danger of failing our obligation to my people. An elf is under attack by a fangirl swarm, and we have done nothing to prevent this.

"A greater swarming has not been seen since the Great Breakthrough when the Lord of the Rings film was released. We will use all available resources. Liliac, can MEAPS help us out?"

"Of course," said Liliac. "If you'll excuse me, I'll go and arrange things with Sariah and Kellex."

Glorfindel nodded his ascent, and she ran from the room. As she left, she heard him start up again. Dramatic speeches were his thing, and he wasn't going to miss a chance like this.

Ispace Chapter Five: Elves Invade, Fear Their Wrath

Liliac stepped through the portal between her offices with a smile. Her lovely Smaug was all settled in, and Kellex had organised a short mission while she'd been distracted with the dragon. Normally she wouldn't have appreciated this, but when he and Spyra had brought back a real live Balrog - from the reality with the pancaking Legolas, the one she had visited a while back - Liliac had decided that a little independence was a good thing. Especially if it got her new pets.

There was but one thing that stopped her going totally hyper and setting fire to everything in sight, which was that she was now obliged to report to the Head of Admin on the success of the missions. This was the first time an Agent/Tech team had worked together in the field, and Glorfindel had to know.

Ispace Chapter Four: Operation - Dragon and Death

Deep in the desolation of Smaug, a glimmering blue portal appeared in the air. If anyone had been watching, they would have seen four girls tumble out, followed by some sort of strange furry duck. They would have watched as the two girls in brown cloaks rose, using the other two as support, and walked off to the north, accompanied by the small brown creature. A short while later, they would have noticed the girl in the royal blue cloak walk off in the opposite direction, the last figure, the one in the lilac cape, tagging along behind. Then, they would have only seen the ashes that remained of a once verdant land. But there was no one watching, and no one saw.

As Hethien walked towards the Lonely Mountain, leading Pointy and Platy, she thought about the shock she had recieved on entering Sarah's office and seeing her former partner sitting at the desk. Had she known that Merrylyn was free, and had been recruited as an operative for the Middle Earth Animal Protection Society, she would never have permitted a MEAPS team to accompany the mission. As the senior Agent here, she, Hethien, had the right to change any part of the operation, provided she had good reason to. And the presence of a fangirl was quite good enough.

Ispace Chapter Three: Preparations

Liliac gave Hethien, Kjersti - Pointy - and Platy their briefing in her purple office. As she read through the prepared speech - "You shall not harm elves. You shall not cause elves to come to harm. You shall not . . ." - her mind wandered. She contemplated the deep purple of the walls, the lighter lilac splodges spaced over them. She ran her gaze along the lines of purple candles covering every surface, noting those which had gone out and needed replacing. She saw the black wooden door, behind which a fixed blue portal lead to her MEAPS ofice, set into the side of the crater of an extinct volcano further down the chain.

She came to the end of the spiel, and looked back at her two new agents and one veteran. "Do you understand?"

"We do," the trio chorused.

"Good." Liliac nodded. "Go and see Rachel down in Supplies for your equipment, then meet me in the Tech department. Ask for Sarah when you get there."

Ispace Chapter Two: Pointy and Platy

Liliac entered Lecture Hall Three and stood against the back wall, her dark purple cloak allowing her to blend into the shadows. At the front of the large chamber, Marcus was standing on a podium, talking about the principle of Dimensional Split.

". . . contrary to popular opinion, the splits in any given Dimension come not from war, political upheaval, or any such thing, but from works of fiction.

"When an author writes a story, or tells it in any other way, that is not based on fact, this causes a split into two dimensions - one where the story was told, and one where it was not. Hence such universes as Middle-earth, where reading is an uncommon skill, have barely a dozen different, conflicting timelines, while Earth has countless millions.

"But that is not all. A story written in one universe can affect another. And that is why the Middle-earth reality has, in recent times, been fractured into countless different strands. Since the release of the Lord of the Rings movies in many of the Earth realities, many have taken up the practice of writing 'fan-fiction', stories of their own set in Middle-earth.

"Each of these tales then splits the Middle -earth continuum in two, doubling the number of universes - one half in which the story occurred, and one in which it did not.

"In your free time, I want you to use the Trans-dimensional computers to visit a storage place of these tales, a place called '', and find me an example of a fanfic that you believe has caused a great split in the Middle-earth reality. That is all."

Ispace Chapter One: Train of Thought

Liliac sat in the Assignments office - her office - at the headquarters of the Interdimensional Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Elves and thought. She had just returned from one of the many Middle-earth dimensions. There were thousands of them, ever since a third of the Earth dimensions had brought out the films of Tolkien's masterpiece and let the fangirls in. That was a terrible mistake, and she thoroughly approved of the universe in which any fangirls were put to death.

In the universe she had just come from, Legolas had acquired an Ispace portal generator - they had given him one to prevent him wearing his legs out, once it had become clear he would be moving all over the world no matter what - and was throwing pancakes - no one knew how he learned about them - at everyone he met. Recently, however, he had been captured, and Liliac had sent her best agent, Merrylyn, in to assist the rescue operation, accompanied by Hethien, a trainee who was now ready to operate independently.
That had, as it turned out, been a mistake. Although Merrylyn had been to Middle-earth before, she had never been near Legolas. It transpired that, having come from an Earth on which the films existed, the girl had in fact been a Legolas fangirl. When they had found him, she had called down a horde of others like her from Earth, using pirated Ispace portals to transport them.

The Interdimensional Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Elves

ISPCE, or Ispace, is an organisation dedicated to protective Elves - usually at the expense of everyone else. Based out of Ispace Mountain, somewhere in Middle-earth, their operatives travel the multiverse guarding Elves of all kinds from any harm that might come their way. It was founded by Glorfindel of Rivendell, and is currently operating under the (temporary) leadership of Liliac.

In another sense, Ispace is the subject of a story written by me some years ago. It tied in with the epic act of insanity known as Pancakes!, and may be relevant to the OFUDisc Files...

ISPCE, Protecting Elves Everywhere

Chapter 6: Fight For Your Life

The Ispace Wars

The Ispace Wars is the sequel to OFUDisc - and to the original ISPCE. It can be found here.

Tuesday, 1 January 2013

OldFUDisc: Chapter 4

Please note: This chapter is presented here as an archive of OldFUDisc; it was written eight years ago and has no direct relationship to the current story. ~The Administrator.

Becky sat on the floor of the Great Hall, studying the bruises on her arm. They really were quite spectacular – she'd never seen bruising that spelt out the words 'HA HA HA' before. Nevertheless, she felt she had been unfairly treated.

She hadn't been one of the ones who had yelled in outrage when Miss Susan had announced that no lust objects were going to be on campus for the next few days. Sure, she might have mumbled a little, but that was no reason for that fat wizard – the one who kept yelling at her Ponder, his name was Ridully or something – to have picked her out to drop bits of ceiling on. It really was utterly unfair.

At this point, Becky noticed the groaning from around her, and realised that she had not been singled out. In fact, only two students remained upright – the one who had been pinned to the wall by Ms Raven, and a tall, pale girl in a frilly floral-print skirt and matching big-sleeved shirt, who seemed to be clinging to the pinned one for support.

Becky was just looking around to make certain no one else was still standing when Miss Susan's voice reached her ears. "Mustrum Ridcully, when I said 'Calm them down', I did not mean 'Shoot their heads off with fireballs'. Is this understood?"

Becky turned and stared in the direction the voice was coming from. The fat wizard who had been dropping ceilings on her was standing with Miss Susan. They seemed to be staring at something on the ground, and Becky realised with horror that it was, in fact, a student. One without a head.

"Now then, be fair," Ridcully was saying, "It was only one fireball. And that Huinesoron person did say that they were planning to get your grandfather to bring them back."

Miss Susan nodded, while Becky tried to remember exactly who her grandfather was supposed to be. "Yes," the headmistress said, "but I haven't been able to get in touch with him." At that point, she paused, turned to look into the space beside her, and said, "Until now, that is. Hello, Grandfather."

Becky blinked. There wasn't anyone in the space Miss Susan was talking to. Was her grandfather a ghost, or something?

Her musings were broken when the Ridully guy pulled out a piece of broken glass, attached to a bit of wood. This, Becky recognised. It was a piece of that omniscope that Ponder had broken – obviously he had done it deliberately, knowing that it could then be used for two-way communication.

Dr Huinesoron ran down into the Great Hall, slamming the door back and crushing a couple of students – the one who had tried to glomp him and her friend, a pair going by the names of Saphie and Andy – while trying to sort through a pile of paperwork at the same time. He found the sheet of paper he was looking for just as he reached the group of three Canons. Ignoring the headless corpse at their feet, he looked instead at the translucent figure attached to the body by a pale blue cord.

"Well now, Fawkes, you may have noticed you are dead," he began. The short girl nodded.

"Yes, Dr Huinesoron, sir," she replied in a high voice. "Er . . . am I going to be brought back?"

Huinesoron frowned at her. "Well, there's a slight problem with that. On your form you put down that you wished to be brought back as the 'Death of Fangirls'. Correct?" At her nod, he continued. "You do understand what this means? That you will be entirely responsible for returning your fellow students to life, or whatever state they desire, on each and every occasion that one of them is killed. You will likely lose sleep, miss out on lessons, and be feared by everyone. Are you willing to do that?"

The girl nodded. "Yes, sir. It's what I want, sir."

Huinesoron sighed. "Right, then." He turned to the dark figure beside him. "Milord, would you care to give her what powers she needs?"

CERTAINLY, replied Death, and leant over the body of the student. Huinesoron, Susan and Ridcully watched as the pale shade that had stood among them was pulled along the blue cord into her former body. The ashes that had once been her head coalesced, and after only a minute or two the girl sat up. Her red hair had developed a black streak down the middle – something Raven later declared to be 'a sign that narritivium has little imagination' – and one of her hazel eyes had turned blue. She looked around at the three Canons and the one Administrator.

Dr Huinesoron offered a hand to help her up – a gesture that sent his one fangirl, Saphie, who was only now recovering from being slammed against a wall, into a fit of envious rage – and handed her a sheet of paper. "This lists the requested post-death states of all the students in the University. You will need to stick to it exactly, or your powers will be revoked. You will not be provided with a scythe, as no students should be permitted to pass on completely. A black robe will be given to you if you require it."

Death seemed about to say something, but Fawkes got there first. "There's no need," said the new Death of Fangirls with a twinkle in her eye. She concentrated, and Huinesoron was shocked to see her clothes transform into something similar to Death's robe, but with the hood left down. After a moment to recover, he smiled.

"Excellent. We shall have to see about getting you a staff position once your time here is done." With that, he turned and left the room, pushing the door with Saphie attached against the wall one last time on the way out.

* * *

Yes, I realise it's been a while, but there's a new chapter.

I also realise that there's a lot of Cruelty To Students in here. That, of course, is the whole point.

Disclaimer: Dr. hS is ours. Becky, Saphie, Andy, Fawkes are ours now. No one else is.


OldFUDisc: Chapter 3

Please note: This chapter is presented here as an archive of OldFUDisc; it was written eight years ago and has no direct relationship to the current story. ~The Administrator.

When Becky finally came round, her first coherent feelings were thankfulness that she wasn’t greeted by the fearsome visage of Granny Weatherwax this time.

Looking around she saw that she was in a large hall, with high ceilings and tall windows. Seeking around for someone familiar she saw Kisheara talking to a short girl with glasses and short brown hair. They were surrounded by a crowd of what Becky assumed were other students, some talking in small groups and some still regaining or yet to regain consciousness. Kisheara noticed that Becky was awake and beckoned her over for introductions.

“Becky, this is Cazzie, Cazzie this is Becky. Cazzie got misfiled - she was meant to go to OFUM but ended up here.”

Becky looked sympathetically at the confused-looking girl, who was currently glancing nervously at the luggages who lined the walls.

“Why don’t you just tell the course co-ordinators? I’m sure they’ll sort it out,” Becky commented.

Kisheara snorted and turned Becky to face the front of the hall. On raised dais at the front she saw some people milling around, she recognised the witches from the flight and – her heart skipped a beat – she thought she saw someone who could only be Ponder Stibbons standing with a group of wizards. Her legs automatically tensed to leap before Cazzie grabbed her shoulders to hold her back.

“Don’t,” she said, pointing to the large doors near the dais. Becky gasped at what she. A girl with frizzy hair and glasses seemed to be pinned to the door by her loose hippy-type clothing. Cazzie explained.

“I think she was sitting by that door with some other students, but I didn’t notice her until I heard her yell. She was running towards that stage-part and she looked like she was going to tackle that guy in black.”

Becky looked towards the dais but failed to isolate said guy in black.


“That one!” Cazzie pointed. “The one with black hair. Looks elvish.”

“Disc or Tolkien?” Kisheara asked.

“Tolkien of course! Noldorin, I think, but I can’t see if his ears are pointy.”

Suddenly both girls saw who she meant - it was the man who had been introduced as Dr Huinesoron. He was talking to a woman wearing a black coat over a red dress. Her hair was black and wound in a bun. Her hair, glasses and leather coat resulted in an image like a psychotic librarian.

“See that woman he’s talking to? I think her name’s Raven or something, anyway, when that girl started to stampede she pulled a crossbow out of no- where and shot it at her!”

They now considered this woman, and quickly rethought their strategies to gain the attentions of their Lust Objects. When strange women pulled out crossbows and pinned innocent fangirls to doors, it was not good. Becky wished that she had read more than the first five chapters of the Official Fanfiction University of Middle-Earth, as then she might have a better idea of what exactly she had signed up for.

All the students were by now awake and talking excitedly to each other while being careful to stay far away from the mini-luggages. The mini- luggages were not large enough to eat someone; they only came up to the average student’s knee. However, they were definitely capable of knocking someone over or taking a chunk out of their leg, and they were willing to do this by the way that they – Becky gulped nervously – they were licking their lids at the students.

Suddenly, there was a commotion at the front of the hall. The door opposite the one decorated with a student opened, and a woman stepped through flanked by mini-luggages. She wore a black dress and her white hair was in bun, though frizzy tendrils were beginning to escape from it. When she turned to look at the students a black streak was visible in her hair. Kisheara gasped in recognition while the other two just looked at her blankly. Becky was about to ask a question when the woman cleared her throat and began to speak. Due to the many students talking loudly, this was inaudible. She frowned, and then spoke again.


That shut them up. Everyone in the hall ceased to talk and swivelled their head towards her, when she had everyone’s attention she started to talk.

“Welcome to the Official Fanfiction University of Discworld. I am your Headmistress, Susan Sto Helit, and you will address me as Miss Susan. Anyone who refers to me as ‘Susan’, ‘Susie’, or any other such name will be meeting my grandfather in short order. You have already met the course co- ordinators Dr Huinesoron and Ms Raven. They, myself and others will be teaching you the ways of the Discworld as well as how to actually write.”

At this point Raven went over to Susan and whispered something in her ear. Susan listened and then carried on speaking.

“Ms Raven has asked inform you of the standards of behaviour expected. As you can see,” she gestured towards the unfortunate girl still pinned to the door, “fangirlish tackling, glomping, stampeding, leaping, rushing or any other over-enthusiastic attack upon any members of staff or visitors will not be tolerated. You are here to learn how to write decent fanfiction, not to ogle your lust objects.”

Susan paused again then, and looked at the horde of almost drooling students before her. Why had she let herself be persuaded into this? Oh yes, she remembered - a chance to rid herself and the Disc of the scourge of bad fanfiction. That, and Raven had introduced her to Godiva and Thorntons chocolate. Chocolate. Susan had a feeling that she would be in need of a lot of chocolate before this lot had gained their certificates.

* * *

Look! We got our act together! Go us!

Now, onto the next chapter...

Disclaimer: Miss Susan isn’t ours. The Disc isn’t ours. Ponder Stibbons isn’t ours. They belong to the great and glorious Pterry. We are just borrowing them to play with. We promise to give them back..

hS and RF

OldFUDisc: Chapter 1

Please note: This chapter is presented here as an archive of OldFUDisc; it was written eight years ago and has no direct relationship to the current story. ~The Administrator.

"Students? In my University?"

A large figure in red strode through the corridors of Unseen University. The large amounts of tasteless glitter, the thick beard and the tall, pointed hat marked him instantly as a wizard, and the crossbow shoved into the hatband left no doubt as to his identity - Mustrum Ridcully, Archchancellor of UU and head of all the wizards in the world. At least, those who knew he existed and were actually willing to listen to him.

Beside him, walking slightly faster to match his larger stride, came a raven-haired woman in a black leather coat. "That is the point of an educational institution, Archchancellor," she was saying, "So can't you see that it's important to educate these poor children?"

"Of course it is," he agreed, "just not here. Go and talk to those chaps over on Fourecks, I'm sure they'll love the idea."

"That's not possible, with respect, that's too far away from this city. And after all, we only want one wing."

Ridcully stopped and turned to face his companion. "My dear woman," he said, ignoring her bristle at being addressed as such, "it matters not whether it is one wing or even one room. I will not agree to any more students in this establishment."

"Having trouble, Raven?" came a voice from the shadows. The wizard and the woman turned to see a man, clad similarly to the woman addressed as Raven, step out into the torchlight. "Looks like I got here just in time," he continued.

"And who might you be, young man?" asked Ridcully. The newcomer glanced at Raven quizzically.

"You didn't mention me?" She shook her head, and he sighed. "Figures. I am Doctor Huinesoron, sir, and I am working with Raven on this project."

The Archchancellor frowned. "Then perhaps you can convince her to stop pestering me."

"Pestering? Oh, yes, that." Huinesoron thought for a moment, and then said, "Archchancellor, are you aware that the students we plan to bring in all believe your use of a large staff with a knob on the end is... compensation for a lack in another area?"

"WHAT?" The Archchancellor swelled up in indignation. "How DARE they? You bring them here, we'll show them the REAL use for these staffs! By the time we're through, they won't be able to STAND!"

"That's the point," said Raven, calmly. Ridcully looked over, and she continued. "Our University would embrace the Teachings of Miss Cam, especially in the area of Learning Through Pain."

"In fact," added Huinesoron, "we're hoping to make a deal with Death - through his granddaughter Susan, I believe you've met her - so that we can retrieve any students who... accidentally die during their education."

The Archchancellor pondered. Eventually, he agreed. "Hubwards Wing. Ask that cheese fellow - whatsisname, Wincerind? - for the key to the main entrance, I think he's the only one using it. And if I can help in any way with the 'pain' part, my door is always open." With that, he strode off.

The pair in black leather coats stared after him for a few seconds. The Doctor turned to his companion and said with an evil smile as she grinned back at him, "You go pick up the minis, I'll sort out the application forms, and I'll meet you outside Rincewind's office. The Official Fanfiction University of Discworld is ready for launch!"

* * *

Behold, the enrolement form. Sadly, we're up to our maximum number of students, so you can't use it. It's just here for entertainment value.

The Official Fanfiction University of Discworld

Enrolment Form

Erudition emensus adflictatio

Chosen Name:




Generic Physical Description:

Lust Object:

Idol, in a non-lusting way:

Favourite Pairing:

Favourite Location:

Favourite Group of People:

Favourite Genre: Humour/Romance/Action/Slash/Other

Number of Discworld books read: None/One/Two/Many/Lots/All

Familiarity with Canon: Not really/Hell yeah/Better than PTerry's, whatever happened to Esk?

In the event of death, what form would you prefer to come back as? Ghost/Zombie/Vampire/Vampyre/Alive/Other.

Have you ever written a Disc Mary-Sue?:

Have you ever written a Disc Slashfic?:

Complete this phrase "Do not meddle."

Sign here .............

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The OFUD claims no responsibility or liability for any or all injuries suffered, mental, physical, or terminal. It's your own fault for being such a godawful writer. Once term has commenced students will not be able to leave until gaining a certification of completion of the course or failing the course. In the event of death the student will still have to complete the course, just say hi to Susan's Grandfather. The certificate of completion is necessary for any writing of further fanfiction in the Discworld fandom. The decisions of the course co-ordinators are final and always right. Susan Sto Helit has the right to take any action she deems appropriate. By signing the form above you show acceptance of and agreement with these conditions.

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Phew, finally the end. Disclaimer and all notes will be put down here, for ease of reading.

We don't own Discworld, it is the Great Pterry's.

We don't own the OFU idea. It belongs to the Great and Glorious Miss Cam, who can be found by the links on my bio page.

In fact, I think all we own is ourselves!

hS and RF