showing off
I got the chance to show the Dana off again tonight. I was about an hour later than usual for my usual Saturday night hangout-and-write session at Moe's, and between that and the NCAA Tournament* on one television, it was fuller than usual. I still scored my corner table, but I knew I was likely to end up there right until closing.
Just as they turned off the televisions to close up, one of the other patrons walked up. Her teenaged daughter and niece were with her. What's that? I've never seen it before.
I ended up spending ten minutes explaining what a dedicated word processor was, why I liked it, and how it all worked. They thought it was extremely neat, especially when I threw it up in the air, bounced it, and showed them that there had been no change to the text at all.
I could sort of see that one was thinking, why not just use a real laptop? But I didn't really want to explain that I prefer using the Dana exactly because it's nothing but a word processor. That would have required explaining what I was doing, and I got caught at a bad time. Here's what was displaying when they walked up.
She is always cautious, approaching through carefully hidden means and maintaining absolute silence and discretion, even when he chooses to indulge himself with her body.
Oops. That's not exactly something I would show to a random teenager, particularly if said teenager is with an adult guardian type. It may just be my outwardly straitlaced self, especially given that I know teenagers read much worse, but it was a tad embarrassing.
Only a tad, though.
The paragraph is from that Tain/Mila fic I've been working on. Current word count is around 3200 and I downloaded a backup copy to my PC tonight. It's far from done, but the shape is definitely clear and I'm debating going ahead and posting part of it, even though it is still a WIP. It's hard to talk about how much you're writing without actually producing proof.
If you're curious, there's a snippet under the cut.
**********
She never questions his authority; she's made it clear she would never presume. But all the details are handled entirely by her direction. In her own way she subtly directs the household simply by managing all of its daily functions.
In that moment he realizes how significant a lowly administrator's position can be, and decides to take steps to bind her closer to him. She is too important, too critical to risk the possibility of her betrayal. He couldn't stand to lose her.
It's for his protection, he tells himself. Before one can address the enemy ahead, one must ensure that there are no enemies within. Loyalty is paramount, and cannot be earned by position alone.
So he finds himself bringing her presents from time to time, trinkets from the places he travels in service to the Order. She accepts them graciously, sometimes even with a smile, and every now and then he sees that mysterious flash in her eyes.
It's when he presents her with a length of high-quality Risan silk that he recognizes another nuance of that flash. "You find this amusing."
She drops her eyes. "Only in the most benign of ways. It is no comment about the quality of your generosity."
"Come now, Mila. There is a difference between humor and gratitude. I don't doubt the latter," he continues, carefully shielding the fact that he isn't as sure as he sounds. "But I don't understand the former. What is so funny?"
"It's nothing. A trifle."
"I'm waiting," he says, forcing the patience into his voice.
She lifts her head although she still will not meet his eyes. "The silk is exquisite. Its quality is obvious without examination. But it is impractical."
"Impractical?" He had not expected to hear that.
"Cloth this fine is fit only for clothing. But why would a mere housekeeper have need for a garment so fine?" She runs the cloth through her hands. "This is a beautiful gift. But I have no use for it. It will require some effort on my part to create something of it that would show my appreciation."
"So you're saying I actually made more work for you?"
She risks a glance at his eyes. "Yes."
**********
So what do you think? Want to see more, or do you want to wait?
* TARHEELS ARE IN THE HOUSE. BOO YEAH.
Just as they turned off the televisions to close up, one of the other patrons walked up. Her teenaged daughter and niece were with her. What's that? I've never seen it before.
I ended up spending ten minutes explaining what a dedicated word processor was, why I liked it, and how it all worked. They thought it was extremely neat, especially when I threw it up in the air, bounced it, and showed them that there had been no change to the text at all.
I could sort of see that one was thinking, why not just use a real laptop? But I didn't really want to explain that I prefer using the Dana exactly because it's nothing but a word processor. That would have required explaining what I was doing, and I got caught at a bad time. Here's what was displaying when they walked up.
She is always cautious, approaching through carefully hidden means and maintaining absolute silence and discretion, even when he chooses to indulge himself with her body.
Oops. That's not exactly something I would show to a random teenager, particularly if said teenager is with an adult guardian type. It may just be my outwardly straitlaced self, especially given that I know teenagers read much worse, but it was a tad embarrassing.
Only a tad, though.
The paragraph is from that Tain/Mila fic I've been working on. Current word count is around 3200 and I downloaded a backup copy to my PC tonight. It's far from done, but the shape is definitely clear and I'm debating going ahead and posting part of it, even though it is still a WIP. It's hard to talk about how much you're writing without actually producing proof.
If you're curious, there's a snippet under the cut.
**********
She never questions his authority; she's made it clear she would never presume. But all the details are handled entirely by her direction. In her own way she subtly directs the household simply by managing all of its daily functions.
In that moment he realizes how significant a lowly administrator's position can be, and decides to take steps to bind her closer to him. She is too important, too critical to risk the possibility of her betrayal. He couldn't stand to lose her.
It's for his protection, he tells himself. Before one can address the enemy ahead, one must ensure that there are no enemies within. Loyalty is paramount, and cannot be earned by position alone.
So he finds himself bringing her presents from time to time, trinkets from the places he travels in service to the Order. She accepts them graciously, sometimes even with a smile, and every now and then he sees that mysterious flash in her eyes.
It's when he presents her with a length of high-quality Risan silk that he recognizes another nuance of that flash. "You find this amusing."
She drops her eyes. "Only in the most benign of ways. It is no comment about the quality of your generosity."
"Come now, Mila. There is a difference between humor and gratitude. I don't doubt the latter," he continues, carefully shielding the fact that he isn't as sure as he sounds. "But I don't understand the former. What is so funny?"
"It's nothing. A trifle."
"I'm waiting," he says, forcing the patience into his voice.
She lifts her head although she still will not meet his eyes. "The silk is exquisite. Its quality is obvious without examination. But it is impractical."
"Impractical?" He had not expected to hear that.
"Cloth this fine is fit only for clothing. But why would a mere housekeeper have need for a garment so fine?" She runs the cloth through her hands. "This is a beautiful gift. But I have no use for it. It will require some effort on my part to create something of it that would show my appreciation."
"So you're saying I actually made more work for you?"
She risks a glance at his eyes. "Yes."
**********
So what do you think? Want to see more, or do you want to wait?
* TARHEELS ARE IN THE HOUSE. BOO YEAH.