write what you know - or not

[higginbottom]

Today, Esther is seated in the Plaza, as centrally located as she can possibly get. She's got a desk in front of her with a typewriter on it (don't ask where she found that), and she's got an expectant sort of smile on her face.

She's been feeling better lately, and so she figured she'd do some work of sorts. That's why there's a handwritten sign at the edge of her desk that simply asks:

What's your story?

and in smaller print, adds:

Recent English major will write your story/poem/memoir/etc out via typewriter for a small fee of your choosing. Very skilled with imagery and metaphor.

Any takers?

Comments

[coffee_elf]

"Really? I can pay whatever you need--well, I shouldn't say it like that, I don't have infinite money, but I'm pretty sure I can give you a fair rate." He eyes her typewriter curiously. "That's not a computer at all. It just uses paper and ink? I don't think we use those where I come from."

He reaches into the bag he carries at his hip and pulls out a small, square pad with a leather cover. Flipping it open reveals a sleek, flat box of metal and plastic, and if Esther has seen people using tablets, or Starfleet folks with padds, this is very similar. A couple taps of his fingers lights the screen up, and opens up a file with the outline he's already made.

"After the Revolution, the Mage's Council was the only governing body we had for a little over a decade. Their first priorities were reconstruction, but one of the big things they did was dividing territories that had once been owned by mining corporations into governable provinces. The person I'm writing about, her name was Eilyss Pridwyn. She did a lot of the travel and surveying to enable the borders to be drawn. And she was by all accounts kind of a character. Hard-drinking, hated people in general, and she was especially bitter toward the Council, in fact, but she did the work anyway."

((Please forgive the infodump. We can handwave to whatever degree you want. He can and will go on like this for hours if Esther lets him.))

[higginbottom]

"It's called a typewriter," Esther explains. "It's what we use where I come from. I'm curious about computers, though. Haven't used one yet."

She peers at the outline, her face glowing from the light of the screen.

"I see," she says, and begins to type. Unfortunately, she makes a small typo, and—

"Oh, damn it!" She didn't really mean to curse, but Esther's a touch ticked off at herself for making that mistake.

"Sorry, I have to start over." She sighs, pulling the typo-ed paper out of her typewriter. "This doesn't usually happen to me."

[ooc: it's cool! This might be a good lesson for Esther, lol.]

[coffee_elf]

"It's a pretty little machine," Rondo says of the typewriter. "But I suppose you can't send articles directly from it. You'd have to scan them into an electronic system first."

Which he can do, fortunately.

He blinks in surprise when she swears, though the curse word doesn't particularly bother him. Her taking the paper out seems to bewilder him, though. "Wait, you have to start the whole page over when that happens? That's...uh, that seems like a lot of work. Do you want me to teach you how to use the word processor on my comm-pad?"

[higginbottom]

Esther looks at the comm-pad, then looks back at the typewriter.

"Um, maybe..." Her mouth twists. "I do like my typewriter, but it's terribly annoying when I make a mistake."