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Slow Days
Work is going slowly. Debugging sucks. I want to know who wrote this crap. The worse part is that the errors it gives me are not reproducable.
I think I've damaged my lower back by stretching it out.
I met a pair of girls from Mexico in the dorm kitchen today. I got to try my rusty Spanish on them. I think I got some messages across, but I don't think the laughter I induced was entirely due to my sterling sense of humor. They got to work their English out on me, and that didn't go well either. At least we can talk Physics to each other.
Strange short character piece for my story. Totally unedited first draft, thirty minutes of work. You know the drill. Can anybody tell me how this character strikes you? I have absolutely no skill with character and I have a hard time making things come across. Plus I have no idea how people actually see such things.
Elisa Hawkshead glowered silently. It was something that she had gotten good at over the years, a way of releasing frustration that it just would not do to release in public. Instead she glowered, sinking into herself until her red hair almost shielding her baleful gaze from whoever she was glaring at. It did not help that her audience was so full of himself that he did not even notice.
“Absolutely not,” Elisa finally interrupted, losing patience with the man. “Do you mistake me for some sort of street conjurer?”
“My lady?” the merchant recoiled, shock entering his piggish features.
“See this?” Elisa held out the token that hung around her neck. “This is the symbol of a master mage of Elemin. I am versed in a hundred of the greater magics, possessed of lore that would drive an untrained mind like yours insane. I am not a tinker who sells cheap tricks as favors for money.”
“But my lady,” the merchant protested. “Even something as simple as scrying the route and helping to remove rock debris could open the pass. It would revitalize the trade routes, open the door for new opportunities, new jobs for the poor and-“
Elisa’s temper slowly ran out as he continued trying to speak. “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear. I am not going to waste my formidable talents doing something as mundane as moving rocks out of your path. That’s what you have laborers for, is that not correct? I am not a servant to do your bidding. Now get out of here before I have you thrown out.”
Stammering something the man made his way out of her office in a rushed shamble. As soon as he was gone and the door closed behind him, Elisa gave into temptation and tossed the nearest book to hand against the wall. The nerve of the man! Assuming that just because she was assigned here that she would jump up and help him with the first project that he brought to her attention. Fool. They would have to learn around here that a true practitioner of the magical arts was not just some puppet to do their tricks.
Absently she wondered what kind of effort his job would have taken. Maybe it would have been worth it if it had gotten her out of this stifling office where she was expected to spend her days. But there was no way she was going to go crawling back to that scum and give him the idea that he could call upon her services whenever he wished.
“Why can’t they all figure out how to fix their own problems?” Elisa groused, contemplating throwing yet another book against the wall. Unfortunately she did not have one close to hand so she contented herself with slamming her fist against the table. And muttering several words that she would never dare to say in public. Damn the lot of them.
Maybe it was the fact that she was almost never seen to be busy. Ignorant people probably assumed that scholarly research was not real work, did they not? So maybe it was just because she sat there sitting with a book all day. Well, maybe she should try and explain the contents of her studies to them so they could see what she did. Assuming, of course, that it did not make their brains explode. At least that outcome would guarantee her some peace and quiet.
And she wanted peace and quiet. Ever since she had gotten here there had only been demands on her time. First one group wanted her to purify the water in the city reservoir. Then another minister had wanted her help in repairing the city docks. Then it was digging a new extension for the city sewer system, or smoothing out the great eastern road that left the city. Did none of them understand that she was busy? Was this something that could not penetrate their rock-hard self-centered heads?
“Well, they’re going to have to learn how to deal with their problems themselves,” Elisa muttered. Her head hurt already, and it was only mid-afternoon. Well, she had listened to enough garbage for today. It seemed a good time to go back home and have a few glasses of wine. She had managed to force the city to provide her larder with something decent at least.
Well maybe tomorrow someone would cast a curse on the whole city and she could unravel that. That at least would make them grateful, then at least they would see.
Angrily she stormed out of her office, nearly bowling over the old woman standing by the door, and stalked off down the hall. How long would it take to train the incompetents of this city to leave her alone?
I think I've damaged my lower back by stretching it out.
I met a pair of girls from Mexico in the dorm kitchen today. I got to try my rusty Spanish on them. I think I got some messages across, but I don't think the laughter I induced was entirely due to my sterling sense of humor. They got to work their English out on me, and that didn't go well either. At least we can talk Physics to each other.
Strange short character piece for my story. Totally unedited first draft, thirty minutes of work. You know the drill. Can anybody tell me how this character strikes you? I have absolutely no skill with character and I have a hard time making things come across. Plus I have no idea how people actually see such things.
Elisa Hawkshead glowered silently. It was something that she had gotten good at over the years, a way of releasing frustration that it just would not do to release in public. Instead she glowered, sinking into herself until her red hair almost shielding her baleful gaze from whoever she was glaring at. It did not help that her audience was so full of himself that he did not even notice.
“Absolutely not,” Elisa finally interrupted, losing patience with the man. “Do you mistake me for some sort of street conjurer?”
“My lady?” the merchant recoiled, shock entering his piggish features.
“See this?” Elisa held out the token that hung around her neck. “This is the symbol of a master mage of Elemin. I am versed in a hundred of the greater magics, possessed of lore that would drive an untrained mind like yours insane. I am not a tinker who sells cheap tricks as favors for money.”
“But my lady,” the merchant protested. “Even something as simple as scrying the route and helping to remove rock debris could open the pass. It would revitalize the trade routes, open the door for new opportunities, new jobs for the poor and-“
Elisa’s temper slowly ran out as he continued trying to speak. “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear. I am not going to waste my formidable talents doing something as mundane as moving rocks out of your path. That’s what you have laborers for, is that not correct? I am not a servant to do your bidding. Now get out of here before I have you thrown out.”
Stammering something the man made his way out of her office in a rushed shamble. As soon as he was gone and the door closed behind him, Elisa gave into temptation and tossed the nearest book to hand against the wall. The nerve of the man! Assuming that just because she was assigned here that she would jump up and help him with the first project that he brought to her attention. Fool. They would have to learn around here that a true practitioner of the magical arts was not just some puppet to do their tricks.
Absently she wondered what kind of effort his job would have taken. Maybe it would have been worth it if it had gotten her out of this stifling office where she was expected to spend her days. But there was no way she was going to go crawling back to that scum and give him the idea that he could call upon her services whenever he wished.
“Why can’t they all figure out how to fix their own problems?” Elisa groused, contemplating throwing yet another book against the wall. Unfortunately she did not have one close to hand so she contented herself with slamming her fist against the table. And muttering several words that she would never dare to say in public. Damn the lot of them.
Maybe it was the fact that she was almost never seen to be busy. Ignorant people probably assumed that scholarly research was not real work, did they not? So maybe it was just because she sat there sitting with a book all day. Well, maybe she should try and explain the contents of her studies to them so they could see what she did. Assuming, of course, that it did not make their brains explode. At least that outcome would guarantee her some peace and quiet.
And she wanted peace and quiet. Ever since she had gotten here there had only been demands on her time. First one group wanted her to purify the water in the city reservoir. Then another minister had wanted her help in repairing the city docks. Then it was digging a new extension for the city sewer system, or smoothing out the great eastern road that left the city. Did none of them understand that she was busy? Was this something that could not penetrate their rock-hard self-centered heads?
“Well, they’re going to have to learn how to deal with their problems themselves,” Elisa muttered. Her head hurt already, and it was only mid-afternoon. Well, she had listened to enough garbage for today. It seemed a good time to go back home and have a few glasses of wine. She had managed to force the city to provide her larder with something decent at least.
Well maybe tomorrow someone would cast a curse on the whole city and she could unravel that. That at least would make them grateful, then at least they would see.
Angrily she stormed out of her office, nearly bowling over the old woman standing by the door, and stalked off down the hall. How long would it take to train the incompetents of this city to leave her alone?