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sparkindarknessI think i'm beginning to wind down now, either that or my threat of going on strike has got through to them.
Still, I've got some more to church out - reporting her brilliant success to her grandfather and basking in his glowing praise.
Well, not quite.
Of course there was a distinct lack of miracle hailing when I made my report. I am totally unappreciated in my time. Of course, I could end all of the world’s hunger and provide so many houses that no-one would ever be homeless again and my grandfather would still complain that the fish was too salty and the bedrooms aren’t big enough. If I miraculously cured him of leprosy he would whine that he still had a minor itch I hadn’t cured. If the messiah had had the misfortune to come across my grandfather he would have ended up stomping off in disgust and get himself a drink and a hooker.
“So, there will be no polluting waste plant on the site. There may be some disruption of the line while the wind turbines have been built but after that the line should be safe for perpetuity since no future government is going to be seen pulling down a wind turbine. The line and wellspring are safe – possibly even respectfully honoured by the turbine.” I finished, a little smugly, but most certainly deserved, even if I do say so myself. Grandma smiled at me over her knitting, her needles never pausing as they continued to churn out what appeared to be a straight jacket for a deformed monkey. Wow, actual approval! Be still me heart!
“And do you have any concerns?” Grandfather asked in a tone of acid. He has a strange look on his face, he’s caught between laughing gleefully at everything being done so perfectly and him being able to grovel perfectly to Camaalis and his inherent dislike of me doing anything right and him having to admit it. Ok, it was a standard question to ask, but I know he’s looking for something to nitpick.
“Two possible concerns,” I saw his face light up as I admitted this. If he bitched I was going to strangle him with grandmother’s deformed knitting. Then stab any squishy bits with her needles. “The local council has spent years preparing this site to be perfect for their waste disposal plant. That’s a lot of money and time and energy – if they find out we were responsible for taking it off them they’re going to be bloody furious.” My grandfather raised his eyebrows, mouth pursed as he shook his head with an expression of extreme disappointment – that’s it, I’m stabbing sensitive squishy bits.
Grandmother spoke up from the fire, dropping about a dozen stitches and adding a new sleeve in the process “It’s a small council without much money or power. I shouldn’t think it will matter.”
“Still, small problems have a habit of growing to be more,” grandfather pronounced censoriously. Oh, I’m going to sharpen the needles first. “It would be best if you returned and sought to mollify them as best you can.” Oh great, guess that means he has no other painfully tedious jobs to pawn off on me. Or maybe he’s storing them up for when I’ve finished this one. “And what was your other problem?”
I gave him a glare even if he couldn’t see it in the firelight. Probably for the best. “My other CONCERN,” I made the word as cutting as I could, “is a reporter I used as a source of information. She’s good at her job, intelligent and not easily distracted. She’s also very curious. She may investigate and connect the dots.”
My grandfather shook his head again, clearly ready to declare that the world was coming to an end and it was all entirely my fault. My grandmother, an unlikely peace maker at the best of times, quickly shuffled into the gap. “What about any opportunities, dear?”
See, I think this is why Camaalis is really successful. Sure, the magic and the money and the contacts help, but the real reason is that no matter what they’re doing – what we’re doing – we’re always looking for new opportunities. It’s standard. We could be in the middle of a war zone and a Camaalis will take a minute to note down that one of the field medics is especially skilled and could do with sponsorship. “Well, that nice government secretary is under severe pressure because of government targets that he wouldn’t have met if it weren’t for us… and probably still won’t.”
There was no need to elaborate – that minister now owed us – and owed us big. Give it a year or two and I’ll bet you cash against a stab with a rusty knitting needle that he’ll be ours. Hey, I deserve kudos for this, cabinet ministers are rare and beautiful catches (mainly because they’re all already owned by someone).
Even grandfather had to nod at that one, and made some small notes on his file. Hah, I rock and you know it old man.
“There’s also the reporter I mentioned.” I continued making sure I savoured my moment of superiority to the full. “She’s very good at her job but she’s also ambitious. She’s wasted at that local paper. If we can get her somewhere with more influence and prestige then we could gain a powerful friend. It would also neutralise whatever threat she poses at the same time.” Oh yes, he gave me lemons, I gave him single malt whisky. Did I mention that I rocked?
Grandmother nodded approvingly, jiggling her knitting and dropping a few more stitches. Grandfather gave me a wolfish smile, “At least that is one concern removed. I will deliver this report to Camaalis. In the meantime you only have one concern to deal with at least. As soon as you tie up this loose end you’ve left behind we can see about your next assignment.”
I didn’t grab the knitting and use it to stab him repeatedly in the head. I am very proud of myself for that. I did glare at him hard enough to flay off his skin and close the door a little louder than was strictly necessary on the way out, but I think that was quite restrained of me. One of these days I’m just going to scramble his mind and leave him dribbling on the floor.
I took a deep breath and took a hold of myself. That was not the direction I wanted my thoughts to go. Sometimes I thought grandfather kept pushing me because he was testin to see if I would crack. Not usually; most of the time I think he just pushes me because he’s a joyless, crotchety old goat.
I took another deep breath and latched on to some semblance of calm and headed back to Littlehole-in-Nowhere to try and convince the local Council not to write snide remarks about us, or whatever other dire revenge they could have waiting for us. Such bloody fun.
Still, I've got some more to church out - reporting her brilliant success to her grandfather and basking in his glowing praise.
Well, not quite.
Of course there was a distinct lack of miracle hailing when I made my report. I am totally unappreciated in my time. Of course, I could end all of the world’s hunger and provide so many houses that no-one would ever be homeless again and my grandfather would still complain that the fish was too salty and the bedrooms aren’t big enough. If I miraculously cured him of leprosy he would whine that he still had a minor itch I hadn’t cured. If the messiah had had the misfortune to come across my grandfather he would have ended up stomping off in disgust and get himself a drink and a hooker.
“So, there will be no polluting waste plant on the site. There may be some disruption of the line while the wind turbines have been built but after that the line should be safe for perpetuity since no future government is going to be seen pulling down a wind turbine. The line and wellspring are safe – possibly even respectfully honoured by the turbine.” I finished, a little smugly, but most certainly deserved, even if I do say so myself. Grandma smiled at me over her knitting, her needles never pausing as they continued to churn out what appeared to be a straight jacket for a deformed monkey. Wow, actual approval! Be still me heart!
“And do you have any concerns?” Grandfather asked in a tone of acid. He has a strange look on his face, he’s caught between laughing gleefully at everything being done so perfectly and him being able to grovel perfectly to Camaalis and his inherent dislike of me doing anything right and him having to admit it. Ok, it was a standard question to ask, but I know he’s looking for something to nitpick.
“Two possible concerns,” I saw his face light up as I admitted this. If he bitched I was going to strangle him with grandmother’s deformed knitting. Then stab any squishy bits with her needles. “The local council has spent years preparing this site to be perfect for their waste disposal plant. That’s a lot of money and time and energy – if they find out we were responsible for taking it off them they’re going to be bloody furious.” My grandfather raised his eyebrows, mouth pursed as he shook his head with an expression of extreme disappointment – that’s it, I’m stabbing sensitive squishy bits.
Grandmother spoke up from the fire, dropping about a dozen stitches and adding a new sleeve in the process “It’s a small council without much money or power. I shouldn’t think it will matter.”
“Still, small problems have a habit of growing to be more,” grandfather pronounced censoriously. Oh, I’m going to sharpen the needles first. “It would be best if you returned and sought to mollify them as best you can.” Oh great, guess that means he has no other painfully tedious jobs to pawn off on me. Or maybe he’s storing them up for when I’ve finished this one. “And what was your other problem?”
I gave him a glare even if he couldn’t see it in the firelight. Probably for the best. “My other CONCERN,” I made the word as cutting as I could, “is a reporter I used as a source of information. She’s good at her job, intelligent and not easily distracted. She’s also very curious. She may investigate and connect the dots.”
My grandfather shook his head again, clearly ready to declare that the world was coming to an end and it was all entirely my fault. My grandmother, an unlikely peace maker at the best of times, quickly shuffled into the gap. “What about any opportunities, dear?”
See, I think this is why Camaalis is really successful. Sure, the magic and the money and the contacts help, but the real reason is that no matter what they’re doing – what we’re doing – we’re always looking for new opportunities. It’s standard. We could be in the middle of a war zone and a Camaalis will take a minute to note down that one of the field medics is especially skilled and could do with sponsorship. “Well, that nice government secretary is under severe pressure because of government targets that he wouldn’t have met if it weren’t for us… and probably still won’t.”
There was no need to elaborate – that minister now owed us – and owed us big. Give it a year or two and I’ll bet you cash against a stab with a rusty knitting needle that he’ll be ours. Hey, I deserve kudos for this, cabinet ministers are rare and beautiful catches (mainly because they’re all already owned by someone).
Even grandfather had to nod at that one, and made some small notes on his file. Hah, I rock and you know it old man.
“There’s also the reporter I mentioned.” I continued making sure I savoured my moment of superiority to the full. “She’s very good at her job but she’s also ambitious. She’s wasted at that local paper. If we can get her somewhere with more influence and prestige then we could gain a powerful friend. It would also neutralise whatever threat she poses at the same time.” Oh yes, he gave me lemons, I gave him single malt whisky. Did I mention that I rocked?
Grandmother nodded approvingly, jiggling her knitting and dropping a few more stitches. Grandfather gave me a wolfish smile, “At least that is one concern removed. I will deliver this report to Camaalis. In the meantime you only have one concern to deal with at least. As soon as you tie up this loose end you’ve left behind we can see about your next assignment.”
I didn’t grab the knitting and use it to stab him repeatedly in the head. I am very proud of myself for that. I did glare at him hard enough to flay off his skin and close the door a little louder than was strictly necessary on the way out, but I think that was quite restrained of me. One of these days I’m just going to scramble his mind and leave him dribbling on the floor.
I took a deep breath and took a hold of myself. That was not the direction I wanted my thoughts to go. Sometimes I thought grandfather kept pushing me because he was testin to see if I would crack. Not usually; most of the time I think he just pushes me because he’s a joyless, crotchety old goat.
I took another deep breath and latched on to some semblance of calm and headed back to Littlehole-in-Nowhere to try and convince the local Council not to write snide remarks about us, or whatever other dire revenge they could have waiting for us. Such bloody fun.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-14 06:35 pm (UTC)*pets the kitties*
Yes my darlings, he writes the fic. You must continue to hunger. But look at these maps of England. Familiarize yourselves. Be prepared. He will be yours to gnaw upon should he fail in his output.
*kitties looks hopeful*
*removes evil overlord persona*
Nice conclusion. Always about the potential, never good enough. Lord they sound like my family.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-19 11:24 pm (UTC)Errr,,,
*hides from kitties*