information of the informative sort.
Character Information
General
Canon Source:
Terry Pratchett's fantastmic Discworld novels! Susan is a featured character in Soul Music, Hogfather, and in Thief of Time.
Canon Format:
Several novels of an extremely footnoted and clever nature!
Character's Name:
Susan Sto Helit (once called Susan Death, perhaps ironically)
Character's Age:
about nineteen (it's never stated directly in the latter two books, but she's sixteen during the events of Soul Music, and the books take place in real time, for the most part).
What form will your character's NV take?
A raven! Throughout the novels, Susan is traditionally accompanied by the Death of Rats and an extremely chatty and sassy raven--so it seems natural that her NV would take a similar form to one of these. It won't be a real raven, but a clockwork one.
The raven will be able to fly, and scoot around on its little wheels. Audio posts will come out of its mouth--and similarly, Susan will be able to make posts by talking to the raven. Its eyes will act as a camera; its wings will unfold and open into a video screen to display video posts--and if any texts come or go out, they will be translated either from or into audio.
It's also worth noting that, though there is equivalent "technology" in Discworld (they have imps that act as beepers, for instance), there isn't any sort of real technology, so she wouldn't have any idea of what to do with a phone. She'll really be much more comfortable with this sort of technology.
Abilities
Character's Canon Abilities:
Susan is just a normal human girl, right? I mean, she's the granddaughter of Death, yes, but adopted granddaughter. There's nothing unusual about her.
Oh, if only that were so.
There is a simple explanation for why Susan is so very supernatural: the abilities are hereditary. The longer explanation is really no less clear. Why would Death's adoptive granddaughter receive any of his powers? Well, Ysabell (Susan's mother) was only adopted into Death's family. Mort (Susan's father) only married into Death's family. But Susan was conceived and born into Death's family--or, as the books put it: "some things were inherited through more than genetics... some things were inherited through the soul... some things were in the bones."
Susan, like Death, can "walk through walls and live outside time and be a little bit immortal". The first makes good sense on its own; the latter two are a bit more hazy to explain. It's never specifically defined how one can be a "little bit immortal", except that Susan has come extremely close to death, and always works her way out of it in the nick of time (sometimes with assistance from granddad). "Live outside time" only means that Susan has the ability to move through time without the usual constraints. She's shown time traveling, sometimes back hundreds of years. I will of course be placing a conditional on this ability--she won't be able to use it at all. That would be too easy!
Susan can also speak in THE VOICE. This is Death's voice, and it has the ability to command, compel, or intimidate others. It's been described as sounding like a coffin lid being nailed down, or a cellar door slamming, but the televised adaptation of Hogfather has a fairly good representation of it here. In the books, THE VOICE is always in small caps. Susan's VOICE is always accompanied by quotation marks, whereas Death's VOICE isn't. It's not always easy for Susan to speak in this way, and she doesn't abuse the power--it's usually used only to command people to get away from her. Especially men in pubs.
Death has the ability to remain unnoticed by humans. Witches in Discworld have this same ability--and so, it seems, does Susan. This ability doesn't mean that she's not present--she's very much present. It's just that she seems to fade into the background. She has to choose and want to use this ability in order for it to work--even if that want is unconscious, as it was during her Literature and History lessons in college. She didn't want to have to answer dull questions that she didn't care about, so she simply faded into the background and escaped the professor's notice. People can see her if they're concentrating on her specifically, or if she isn't trying to escape their specific notice--and of course, wizards are said to be able to see her without very much trouble at all, just as they can see Death without trying.
Yet another ability that Susan has inherited from her grandfather is his perfect memory. This not only means that she's able to recall things that have happened to her with crystal clarity--but she can also "remember the future". Death's memory isn't confined to a single plane, as the human mind is. He can see past, present, and future; he has the image of the whole picture fixed in his head. Since this would drive Susan's human brain insane, her mind suppresses most of the knowledge that she gets and turns the whole ability into a sort of precognitive sense instead. These generally manifest themselves as premonitions or intuitive insights, but don't generally do very much good, as they are extremely fragmented and only become really clear when Susan is practically on top of the event itself.
Her final Death-inherited ability is her perspective. Most humans in Discworld see strange and unusual things that their minds simply can't accept--things that don't fit into a logical world view. The only way that they can deal with these things is to simply pretend that they aren't there. Susan doesn't need this preservation tactic--she can acknowledge and understand these things without trouble. Death's Domain (or the House that Death Built!) is vastly larger on the inside than it is on the outside. In fact, the rooms are incomprehensibly vast, and a normal human can't understand the sheer size--so their minds simply shrink it down and pretend that all that extra space isn't there. Susan accepts it without question. When other adult humans go to look for the bogeyman under their child's bed, they might see a dusty sock and a few tin soldiers, because of course all adults know that bogeymen don't exist. Susan would look and see the bogeyman, and then she would beat him with a fire poker. This is a difficult ability to explain, so if any additional clarification is necessary, I can do my best to give more insight.
Along with all of that, Susan is quite educated and intelligent. She is accomplished in the fields of Maths (she prides herself particularly on her ability to mentally calculate the square root of 27.4) and Logic. She's multilingual, and has a great deal of knowledge about the other cultures of the Discworld. She is also a strong swimmer, and knows several lifesaving techniques. As a teacher, Susan has a Look. The Look has been known to stop many people--and creatures--in their tracks. Even Death is susceptible to feeling sheepish when the Look is directed his way.
And she can do incredible damage with her fire poker.
Weapons:
The fire poker. Sorry, bogeymen of Siren's Port, you have met your match, and your match's name is Susan Sto Helit.
History/Personality/Plans/etc.
Character History:
WELCOME TO DISCWORLD! A flat world, balanced on the backs of four elephants, who in turn stand balanced on the back of Great A'Tuin, a giant tortoise swimming through the galaxy... don't try to understand it.
By Discworld standards, Susan Sto Heilet is an extremely normal young woman, thank you very much. In a world where wizards are a dime a dozen and your lawyer might just be a zombie, it's rare to find a young lady who is so very, very normal. Eventually, though, Susan will forget herself and walk right through a door without turning the knob, and then you'll realize: she isn't very normal at all.
Susan is nobility, the daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Sto Heilet, a dutchy in the kingdom of Sto Lat. Many of the Discworld books are focused in Ankh-Morpork, a dirty and bustling metropolis (think London). Sto Lat is of a slightly higher class and caliber, located about twenty miles outside of Ankh-Morpork. Susan's father, Mort, was given the title of Duke and gifted with the dutchy itself after saving the life of Sto Lat's monarch, Queen Kelirehenna. Only you might not want to ask how he saved her life, because--oh, you want to know?
Well then. Once upon a time, Mortimer (Mort; and he was too poor to have a proper last name) was a penniless and skinny boy in the Ramtops, looking for an apprenticeship.
And then Death showed up.
That doesn't mean that Mort died. Of course not; it wasn't his time. No, no, he was apprenticed by Death. Mort started off as the low man on the totem pole in the House of Death--mucking out the stables and caring for Death's skeletal horse, Binky. In Discworld, you see, Death is a skeleton dressed in a black robe--and actually a really nice guy. He's just there to do his job and though his voice IS ALWAYS IN SMALL CAPS AND VERY TERRIFYING TO THE EAR, he loves kittens and babies and curry and really sort of wishes that he was human sometimes, or at least that he understood them. And really wishes that people weren't quite so scared to see him. Feels bad, man.
So, despite having to clean up after a bony horse, and despite having to do "the Duty" from time to time, Mort's apprenticeship was fairly decent. He couldn't quite ignore the large and often melodramatic presence of Death's adopted daughter, Ysabell, a girl without much sense but a large collection of chocolates and romance novels. Long story short, Mort: became Death for a short time, fell in love with a beautiful princess, refused to kill a beautiful princess, mucked up time completely, became Death more fully and almost forgot himself, fell in love with Ysabell instead, set time to rights, saved the princess' life, and became a duke--because by the way, that princess was heir to the Sto Lat crown. Ysabell and Mort marry, with Death's approval (fathers have some rights, after all), and live happily ever after.
And then, there was Susan.
At first, Susan saw her grandfather quite often. In Hogfather, she has vague childhood memories of being pushed on a swing by a particularly bony set of hands. But alas, such a happy relationship was not allowed to last. Concerned about the possible ramifications of having Death as a grandfather (I mean really), Mort and Ysabell raised Susan away from her grandfather's doting and caring and rather skeletal presence. They wanted Susan to have a very sensible life, so they also instilled a deep-set skepticism in their daughter's young mind. There was no such thing as bogeymen, no such thing as the Tooth Fairy, no such thing as the Hogfather (the Discworld equivalent to Santa Claus), no such thing as the Soul Cake Duck, et cetera et cetera. She believed in nothing outside of the practical every-day magic of Discworld (imps, wizards, and so on). It's even implied that Ysabell and Mort chose the name "Susan" for their daughter specifically because of the sensible and completely normal connotations attached to it.
So Susan Sto Helit grew up very seriously and very sensibly, without a bit of fancy or whimsy at all. The only problem with all of this was--well, in Discworld, all of those things are real. But Susan stayed stubborn in the face of it all. The Hogfather was only her parents; the bogeyman was only the shadow of a coat rack; the world was wholly and completely normal.
Just prior to Susan's sixteenth birthday, Ysabell and Mort were killed in a carriage wreck. They had known about their fate for some time--being Death's daughter and son in law has its perks--but there was no altering it. Death had at one point offered them a sort of continued existence in his realm, but the couple had refused, as this would only be delaying the inevitable. Susan didn't seem very much shocked by their deaths when Soul Music begins--rather, she accepted the event as a fact of life.
At sixteen years old, Susan was right on track to graduate from Quirm College for Young Ladies. She was a successful student in her career there, but her life certainly took a turn for the stranger when her past caught up with her. Unbeknown to Susan, Death had gotten into a rather philosophical frame of mine and had decided to take some time off. Of course, this left a metaphysical vacancy in the universe--as Death's job is extremely necessary--and so Susan found herself "sucked in". She was forced to temporarily act as Death, reaping the souls of the Disc that were due for death.
Of course, she hit a snag. Falling in love with the target seems to run in the family, because Susan found herself smitten with Buddy (real name Imp Y Celen, which translates to 'bud of the holly'--geddit?), star of the newest musical sensation to hit the Discworld. Music With Rocks In was sweeping the nation, and Buddy of The Band With Rocks In was the latest sex symbol. Susan fully recognized the stupidity of being in love with a "rock god", and that it was neither a sensible or practical thing to do--but when Buddy was around, and when he played music, he exuded this almost magical charisma that you couldn't help but to pay notice to.
But his life timer said that he was the live fast and die young type--and that just didn't sit well with Susan. Why should someone like Buddy die when there were terrible people out there, doing terrible things? As the events of the book progress, Susan fond herself learning more and more about her grandfather and the nature of his work--and the nature of death itself. At first, she tried to use her powers for good, saving people who deserve saving. And yet, things still happened the way that they were supposed to. The universe seemed to have a way of righting itself, and time went on, and she was powerless to stop it: the inevitability of destiny and death.
Fortunately, old granddad came back from his mental health holiday just in time to take back up the scythe, and bend the rules to save Buddy's life. And play a kick-ass guitar riff. I am not making this up.
After Soul Music, Susan moved to the city of Ankh-Morpork and became a governess for the Gaiters, a family of New Money. She was technically a duchess at this time, but she was quite focused on the merit and benefit of hard work, and she believed that working in such a position will be good for her. This made the Gaiters a bit uncomfortable, since technically she outranked them (and gave us such lovely exchanges as, "Susan, what would you call the Duke of Sto Planes?" "Mostly we called him Kevin..."). But Susan didn't have any patience for that sort of thing. She was there to do her job, to make sure that the children grew up properly.
The previous governess had instilled a great fear of the world in the Gaiter children, threatening them with dire consequences should certain childish actions continue. Children who sucked their thumbs, for instance, are attacked by bears in the park. Children who misbehaved must face the bogeyman. Susan had no truck with this--children should behave because they should behave, not because some mystical threat was going to attack them--and furthermore, she didn't see a point in being afraid of creatures that are real. So she dealt with the situations accordingly. When the bogeyman came out, she beat him with a fire poker. The same went for those bears.
Of course, it couldn't all be reading lessons and fire pokers forever. The Auditors of the Universe--the little picky bastards who make sure that everything goes according to plan--had hired an assassin called Mr. Johnathan Teatime (Tea-AH Time-AH, please pronounce it properly or else he goes all mad). They wanted Mr. Teatime to kill the Hogfather (the Disc's Santa Claus), because he didn't fit into their neat and tidy view of the world.
The Hogfather's absence created a--yeah, you guessed it, a metaphysical vacancy in the universe. But this time, Death himself rose to the job and stepped in for the Hogfather, with a false beard and a robe and a pillow shoved up to give those bones a bit of padding. He rode through the sky, giving very literal presents to all the children of Ankh-Morpork. In the meantime, it became Susan's job to find out what exactly happened to the real Hogfather, so her granddad could stop going all Jack Skellington at everyone and return to his real duties.
Susan went to the Hogfather's Castle of Bones in the north, which she found in ruins. It was falling apart because children weren't believing any longer. Oh, she also found Bilious, the Oh God of Hangovers. What's that you say, you didn't know that there was any sort of God of Hangovers? Well, in the absence of the Hogfather, it seemed that all the spare belief hanging around the world was creating new and small gods--the God of Hangnails, the Cheerfulness Witch, the Bluebird of Happiness, the monster that lives in your clothes dryer and eats your socks--all sorts of weird anthropomorphic representations of things that are mentioned in passing.
Susan eventually made her way to the land of the Tooth Fairy, where it was discovered that Mr. Teatime had killed the Hogfather by collecting millions of teeth and using them to control children into not believing in the Hogfather. Without anyone to believe in him, he had faded and died. A battle ensued, and Susan shoved Mr. Teatime off the top of the Tooth Fairy's tower, and the balance of the universe was restored.
Well, almost. Susan returned to the Gaiter's nursery only to find Mr. Teatime waiting for her. But she killed him with the fire poker, because it's quite good at killing monsters.
There's another book, Thief of Time, in which Susan battled the Auditors once more, this time in opposition to their quest to stop time so they could "catch up with the paperwork"--but as I'll be taking Susan from after the events of Hogfather, I'm not going to summarize it here. A brief synopsis can be found here at the Wikipedia page, if you're interested.
Point in Canon:
Some time after the events of Hogfather--she's still a governess, still wielding that fire poker against monsters and bad hats.
Character Personality:
The first thing that can be said about Susan Sto Helit is that she's sensible. This is a trait that she values above all others, and it's her most notable one. She was raised very specifically to embody this attitude by her parents, and she's not strayed one step from that path. Included with this is a significant lack of romanticism. In college, her interpretation of a poem about daffodils was as follows: Apparently, the poet had liked them very much. This single line sums up Susan's attitude towards life very succinctly. There isn't any room for fancy or fantasy.
Certainly by this point, Susan believes in the Hogfather and the Tooth Fairy and all the rest--because you can't help believing in what you've seen and fought for. So while she accepts that these creatures inhabit her world, she still wishes that they didn't. They make things difficult--because (in keeping with that sensibility that her parents instilled in her) Susan wants to be normal. Indeed, she makes great strides toward remaining wholly and completely normal, even in the face of her abilities. She makes significant efforts in Hogfather to NOT use her powers, but she does note that it takes a great deal of effort to remember to open doors with doorknobs, to remember to fall asleep, to remember to actually forget things. She feels that if she succumbs to relying on these abilities, she will lose her humanity. By Thief of Time, Susan has relaxed a little in this philosophy, but in the point of canon that I'm taking her from, she will still feel that obligation towards remaining wholly and completely human.
Related to this distrust of all things not human, Susan is very skeptical about philosophy as a whole. She believes that it oversimplifies a complicated world, and she has no patience for oversimplification, either. This much is evident in her teaching style, and in her way of dealing with children. Susan enjoys children--as long as they are "not raw"--meaning that she herself doesn't want children, but she enjoys their company. And children generally seem to like Susan in return--probably because of her very specific and unusual way of dealing with them and their problems.
One might not think Susan inclined towards dealing with children, but actually, she's quite good with them. Susan's approach to child rearing and education is quite simple. As mentioned in the history section, when a child complains about the bogeyman, Susan believes in dealing with the problem head on. She will trounce the bogeyman with a fire poker--or simply hand the child the fire poker and allow him to do it for himself. She also has a similar approach towards the subject of reading. Rather than forcing a child to read dull and simple books, Susan hands them an interesting book that is slightly too difficult for them. Some people might have reservations about using General Tacticus' Campaigns to teach an eight-year-old boy reading, but that's only because some people don't believe that "a boy does not need to know how to spell 'disemboweled' until he is ten".
As a teacher in Thief of Time, Susan is seen using her powers to teach her pupils a history lesson. Rather than simply having them read about famous battles, Susan takes her class to these battles on a field trip. She can get away with this, because most parents assume that the children have merely read a very vivid and descriptive text--since how could a classroom of children possibly go back in time? Of course, the children believe without difficulty, and Susan becomes a very popular instructor at the school.
Susan is very cool-headed and can be counted upon to remain cool-headed no matter the circumstances. She doesn't once cry, or shout out, during the course of the novels. She's very stoic, and very cut-and-dry, dealing with every crisis in a very matter of fact way. Even when she's transported to Death's realm and forced to act as Death in Soul Music, she's not much bothered by it. Perhaps irritated, but certainly not bothered. Susan deals with every problem in a very direct manner. She herself is a little like the fire poker that she wields so formidably--straight as iron, unbending, unwilling to change her position, and tough as nails. It's stated that Susan actually views this ability to remain calm as a character flaw. Not much detail is given on the idea, but it's very interesting to consider when so many others aspire to such stoicism.
I've speculated about this facet of Susan's personality, and I think that it has something to do with her own childhood, and her very nature. She was never permitted a moment of truly childish behavior or fancy. She's been raised to be brittle and hard as iron, and she hardly allows herself to even feel feelings towards anyone--man, woman, or child. The best relationship she ends up having is with her grandfather--which is a little twisted in itself, as he's Death. She can't let go of herself for even a second--she's always questioning or frowning about one thing or another. There is a wonderful Moment at the end of Thief of Time, where Susan realizes that she's got a thing for the new Time--but it's so difficult for her to come to this conclusion, and even then, she doesn't act on it. Of course, my Susan comes before this point in her life, so she'd never even think in that way. And, really, this extremely sensibility stands in Susan's way, as she wants more than anything else to be normal. Normal humans don't behave in this way, and Susan is fully aware of that--and I think it saddens her slightly.
Her inability to really deal with people--or relate to them in any way outside of practical disapproval--is really one of her greatest flaws. Susan is nearly incapable of relating to anyone, and despite her likable qualities, she has a tendency to drive people away with her staunch sensibility. She's almost too sensible for anyone to relate to--and Susan certainly doesn't put any effort into relationships. Throughout her canon, Susan doesn't once attempt to initiate any sort of relationship with a single person or being. If someone tries to initiate one with her, she treats them as she treats everyone: rather coldly. It's not many who are prepared to continue to respond to such treatment, and so Susan is generally left well enough alone.
Along with her sensibility is Susan's sense of practicality. She doesn't have any patience for people who behave in a foolish or inefficient manner, and she's certainly not afraid to speak her mind in response to their behavior. It's not that she seeks out confrontation--not in the slightest; that would be too much a bother. But when a confrontation makes itself known, Susan is not afraid to deal with it in her usual hard way.
One final note: it's very easy to compare Susan to Mary Poppins. And you should make the comparison. Terry Pratchett himself has said that he considers Susan to be something of a "Goth Mary Poppins", and they're very similar, both in temperament and in method. There's even a direct correlation in Hogfather, when Susan is considering her role as a governess. "She'd sworn that if she did indeed ever find herself dancing on rooftops with chimney sweeps, she'd beat herself to death with her own umbrella." In fact, this eschewing of all things whimsical is perhaps the biggest difference between them. Mary Poppins (at least in film canon) positively encourages childish behaviors and imagination, whereas Susan has her wonderfully stoic quote: "Real children don't go hoppity-skip unless they're on drugs."
Character Plans:
Susan will be the resident Mary Poppins. All you whining kids best shut your yaps, she will have none of your nonsense, thank you very much. I imagine that she will deal very directly with any monsters that dare cross her path, and will probably eventually end up as a governess or a schoolteacher herself. Since I'm taking her from just after Hogfather, she still has that hypersensitivity about being normal--so I'd like to play with the idea of her coming to terms with her abilities, and become more adjusted to using them. It will also be interesting to see her forced to admit a little weakness, because the poker won't be as formidable here as it is in Discworld, and she won't be able to fight each and every monster that comes across her path.
Appearance/PB:
Terry Pratchett describes Susan as being "attractive in a skinny sort of way", a "slightly built young woman". Other characters have noted that she has a very "striking" physical presence. She has a mass of pure white hair with a single black streak running from her left temple down to the tip of that particular shock of hair. Her whole head of hair is described as looking rather like a frizzy dandelion in its natural state, but then, her hair also has powers of its own--it can rearrange itself to suit Susan's mood. It often takes the appearance of a neat bun when she's working. She's traditionally depicted in Edwardian clothing, supposedly because it fits the "mood" of a governess--black, exclusively, as that's Susan's color preference of choice. She also has a birthmark on her cheek that's only visible when she blushes--three finger-shaped marks. These lines were left on her father's face when Death slapped him during the events of Mort; they glow when Susan is angry.
And she has a tendency to occasionally complain about her cheekbones. As Death's granddaughter, she reasons, they should be better.
Since Susan is a book character, it's difficult to find icons for her. Fortunately, there has been one live-action televised special of Hogfather (or perhaps not so fortunately arrrgh damn you adaptations!), so there are some out there. In the televised adaptation, Susan was portrayed by English actress Michelle Dockery.
Anyways, here she is!
Writing Samples
First Person Sample
[The video begins with a view of a very well-put together young woman. The first word that might come to mind is sensible. She's dressed all in black, in an Eduardian fashion, and her white hair is piled on top of her head. She is also clutching a fire poker, much the same way someone else of her station might clutch a handbag or an umbrella.]
I have noticed a great deal of complaining over this-- [a tiny pause.] --this "network". I've not been here very long, but already I see the flaw in the approach that's commonly taken here. I'm not in the habit of giving unsolicited advice, but given that this is an open forum, and in the interest of discouraging future complaints, I shall offer a few pointers.
[A small frown creases her face for a moment, and she touches her hair reflexively. It looks a bit neater than when the video first engaged, as if her hair has somehow straightened itself out.] Securing a position in a job is not nearly as difficult as many of you seem to believe. Putting together a proper list of references will not be necessary, as your references can't be contacted. Instead, a list of accomplishments will do nicely. Once you have secured a position, punctuality and attention to your duties will ensure that you retain the position. It isn't much more difficult than that.
I was originally warned of the prejudices that we face in this city. I have seen them first-hand. They are not so difficult to endure. If one takes a proper mind and a firm hand when addressing the situation, those that are laughing at you may suddenly find themselves being laughed at. [With an audible creaking of leather, her fingers tighten just slightly on the end of the fire poker--and then relax.] Simply keep a cool head and respond logically. There is no greater advice than this, and to act in any contrary manner will only further the disdain that you may meet.
With these things in mind, it isn't so difficult to get on in this city. I see that there has been a recent crisis, so I understand some distress. But I don't have any patience at all for complaints about circumstances that can easily be put to rights. It's a tired cliche, but it puts the situation quite nicely: Those that do not help themselves won't get any help at all.
I understand that there is a map on this--device, but it isn't readable. I assume that there is a library where one may secure a paper map. I request directions, if someone would be so kind.
Third Person Sample
Susan Sto Helit was most wholly and sincerely not amused.
It certainly wasn't the idea of being transported somewhere foreign that was bothering her. That had happened to her many times in the past, enough for her to become quite acquainted with the idea. Usually she was transported to Death's Domain, yes, but one need not be transported all over the Disc in order to know how to deal with comperable situations.
Likewise, the thought of the Gaiter children was not what was bothering Suan. The children were perfectly capable of getting on without her. Twyla wasn't frightened of the bogeyman any longer, and had a very good eye with the poker. They had learned nearly all that she was willing to teach them, and would do a better job of learning on their own at this point. It was about time that she move on from them as it was.
Nor was Susan troubled by the idea of the "monsters", as so many others here seemed to be. Just the thought of that willy-nilly sort of panic made Susan's lips press together in a singularly unamused sort of way. Really, if people would just keep their heads, the situation that they were in would be dealt with without any real trouble at all.
No. Susan was must unamused by this--what was it called? Can-opener.
She frowned at the device in her hand, and set it to the lip of the tin can once again.
Susan was not accustomed to things of any sort of nature getting the best of her. Disorder tended to tidy itself up around her. Messy rooms seemed almost to put themselves to rights the moment that the hem of her skirts darkened the doorstep. Misbehaving children suddenly righted themselves, shocked into good manners and proper posture. So why would a can-opener daunt her?
Well, for one, the idea of canned food seemed wholly unappetizing. It was difficult to work past a distrust for withered little vegetables floating in juices in an unhealthily warm environment. It was apparently safe for consumption, given its commonality in the marketplace, but to Susan, eating it seemed foolish. Preserves, safely stored in a cool and dry cellar--that was quite one thing. Jars of the stuff sitting around on shelves, gathering dust, spoiling--that was another thing entirely. It was not sensibly done.
Furthermore, machinery in itself was not to be trusted. Susan disliked most short cuts. They were sloppy and spoke mainly of inferior skill and of a desire to do a poor and quick job. There was nothing neat about a short cut. Machinery was man's biggest short cut, and to Susan, that was not to be tolerated. It wasn't that she was old-fashioned, she thought to herself as she gave a firm twist to the head of the can-opener. It was more that she was too practical to rely on machines to do what she could do just as well in ten minute's time. The fallibility of machinery was irritating--and the way that everyone began to rely on it instead of doing good hard work, despite the many and frequent failings of the devices.
Really. Susan gave the can-opener a Look. It did not respond. She could feel her hair beginning to uncoil slightly, puffing up in response to her irritation.
"That's entirely enough of that," she told her scalp firmly, directing a sharp look upwards. Immediately after speaking, Susan frowned yet again. Talking to one's self was equally foolish. Only young women in silly novels talked to themselves. And now she was distracting herself, and getting away from the issue at hand.
Susan set the tin can to one side, depositing the can-opener beside it. Fresh vegetables were better than preserved ones. The same could probably be said for vegetables in tin cans. Better to eat something else, and not waste the time with such foolishness. There was enough foolishness in this place as it was.