Ah, this prompt is related to your snowshoeing, right? You got lost in an icy maze up on a hill covered in blinding white snow, while worrying that my Ilmatu might be more real than you've given them credit for? Or were you just chased by a frost-snake? :)
Back and forth Fabian was in the kitchen getting himself his first coffee of the morning, yawning slightly and wondering what on earth had possessed him to get up early enough to be the first person in the building (though it was always possible the Maestro was in too and just hadn't appeared on the upper levels yet) when he finally caught up with Rystin. He turned to the door, his full cup in his hand, and found Rystin standing just outside, looking deferent. "How long have you been there?" said Fabian, glad that he'd not jumped and spilled his coffee. Hot coffee burned. "Not that it matters, if you want to talk to me, just do so. There's nothing special about being Director. Well, nothing special that should matter to you." "Me being an elf might be special, though," said Rystin. "Not to me." "That's not really the point," said Rystin. "Other people have expectations for the Director, and if you don't meet them and get replaced, I might lose my position as a consultant." "Are you enjoying it?" Fabian tried not to let himself get distracted but this was exactly the kind of conversation where he would casually drift off on tangents without even realising what he was doing. "Oh yes. But that's not what I came to talk to you about."
"Of course," said Fabian hastily, realising that he'd been about to head down a tangent. "My office?" He gestured, cautiously, with the hand holding the cup. The black coffee made a tiny tidal wave that managed not to spill over the rim. "No, again, I think the Director should probably not be seen to be meeting with Elves in his office," said Rystin. "I'm sorry if you find that slightly offensive, but I think this is safer all round." Fabian's frown formed and vanished as he felt it forming. He was well aware of the general levels of anti-elf sentiment and the racism around the Empire but it was annoying to have it held up like this in front of him. He wasn't exactly being accused of it, but it felt like he was being accused of perpetrating a system that permitted it, of being complicit in it. And there was a nagging thought that maybe, just maybe, he was. "Right," said Fabian. He sipped his coffee to conceal his annoyance and the fact he had no idea what to say. Rystin eyed him for a moment as though wondering if he would make a further protest, and then said, "I don't think you have many elves on staff." "A couple," said Fabian, nearly reflexively. There were supposedly positive-hiring policies in place across the Empire that made it illegal not to hire Elves, but in practice most policies constrained the roles that Elves could be employed for quite considerably. "Not as many as I'd like, if I'm honest." "You don't get enough candidates?" "Not for the kinds of jobs we're allowed to offer," said Fabian. As soon as the words were out of his mouth he heard them and felt a jolt of shock that he'd said that out loud. For the first time in a long time he wished his ex-wife were nearby to remind me to think before he spoke. "That's very honest," said Rystin. "Very honest. I think I like you, Director." "Fabian," said Fabian. That was a reflex also, but one he was proud of. Almost no-one called him Director unless he'd taken a dislike to them. "Well, Director," said Rystin, stressing the word again to remind Fabian of their earlier words, "I just wanted to let you know that there are signs of spider-elf magic around your office, and unless you employ a spider-elf, I would think that worrying." Fabian's coffee finally trembled enough to spill.
[I took the prompt a little indirectly; Fabian's conversations have a habit of going back and forth and circling around the point until he finally gets there -- hopefully I captured that here!]
Greg - for the record, the mere suggestion of the existence of a frost-snake made me swear out loud in your general direction.
Well, there's also the more general back and forth'ishness of their conversation, but I appreciate the extra layer of prompt response :)
Rystin continues to be a favorite addition to this tale. And the revelation that spider-elves have something to do with what's been going on with Fabian is... a little worrying, I think.
3 comments:
Ah, this prompt is related to your snowshoeing, right? You got lost in an icy maze up on a hill covered in blinding white snow, while worrying that my Ilmatu might be more real than you've given them credit for? Or were you just chased by a frost-snake? :)
Back and forth
Fabian was in the kitchen getting himself his first coffee of the morning, yawning slightly and wondering what on earth had possessed him to get up early enough to be the first person in the building (though it was always possible the Maestro was in too and just hadn't appeared on the upper levels yet) when he finally caught up with Rystin. He turned to the door, his full cup in his hand, and found Rystin standing just outside, looking deferent.
"How long have you been there?" said Fabian, glad that he'd not jumped and spilled his coffee. Hot coffee burned. "Not that it matters, if you want to talk to me, just do so. There's nothing special about being Director. Well, nothing special that should matter to you."
"Me being an elf might be special, though," said Rystin.
"Not to me."
"That's not really the point," said Rystin. "Other people have expectations for the Director, and if you don't meet them and get replaced, I might lose my position as a consultant."
"Are you enjoying it?" Fabian tried not to let himself get distracted but this was exactly the kind of conversation where he would casually drift off on tangents without even realising what he was doing.
"Oh yes. But that's not what I came to talk to you about."
"Of course," said Fabian hastily, realising that he'd been about to head down a tangent. "My office?" He gestured, cautiously, with the hand holding the cup. The black coffee made a tiny tidal wave that managed not to spill over the rim.
"No, again, I think the Director should probably not be seen to be meeting with Elves in his office," said Rystin. "I'm sorry if you find that slightly offensive, but I think this is safer all round."
Fabian's frown formed and vanished as he felt it forming. He was well aware of the general levels of anti-elf sentiment and the racism around the Empire but it was annoying to have it held up like this in front of him. He wasn't exactly being accused of it, but it felt like he was being accused of perpetrating a system that permitted it, of being complicit in it. And there was a nagging thought that maybe, just maybe, he was.
"Right," said Fabian. He sipped his coffee to conceal his annoyance and the fact he had no idea what to say. Rystin eyed him for a moment as though wondering if he would make a further protest, and then said,
"I don't think you have many elves on staff."
"A couple," said Fabian, nearly reflexively. There were supposedly positive-hiring policies in place across the Empire that made it illegal not to hire Elves, but in practice most policies constrained the roles that Elves could be employed for quite considerably. "Not as many as I'd like, if I'm honest."
"You don't get enough candidates?"
"Not for the kinds of jobs we're allowed to offer," said Fabian. As soon as the words were out of his mouth he heard them and felt a jolt of shock that he'd said that out loud. For the first time in a long time he wished his ex-wife were nearby to remind me to think before he spoke.
"That's very honest," said Rystin. "Very honest. I think I like you, Director."
"Fabian," said Fabian. That was a reflex also, but one he was proud of. Almost no-one called him Director unless he'd taken a dislike to them.
"Well, Director," said Rystin, stressing the word again to remind Fabian of their earlier words, "I just wanted to let you know that there are signs of spider-elf magic around your office, and unless you employ a spider-elf, I would think that worrying."
Fabian's coffee finally trembled enough to spill.
[I took the prompt a little indirectly; Fabian's conversations have a habit of going back and forth and circling around the point until he finally gets there -- hopefully I captured that here!]
Greg - for the record, the mere suggestion of the existence of a frost-snake made me swear out loud in your general direction.
Well, there's also the more general back and forth'ishness of their conversation, but I appreciate the extra layer of prompt response :)
Rystin continues to be a favorite addition to this tale. And the revelation that spider-elves have something to do with what's been going on with Fabian is... a little worrying, I think.
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