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rainbowfic2014-10-06 08:30 pm
kay_brooke) wrote in rainbowfic2014-10-06 08:30 pm
Pineapple Yellow #18, Wizard #20
Name: kay_brooke
Story: The Drakes
Colors: Pineapple Yellow #18 (Give me one good reason I shouldn't punch you in the face), Wizard #20 (NEWTS)
Styles/Supplies: Canvas, Oils (dailyprompt "ultimately disappointed"), Pastels (origfic_bingo prompt “wound(s)”)
Word Count: 732
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply
Summary: Finley doesn't need her instructor's approval.
Note: Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
Finley had a pen clutched tightly in one hand. And the longer Instructor Alain talked, the harder she clutched it, until it was on the verge of breaking.
“Investigative techniques,” said Alain, flipping rapidly through the packet of papers in front of him. “Average.” Flip. “Tactics, average.” Flip. “Reconnaissance skills, average.” Flip. “Physical fitness, average.”
The pen creaked under her hand. She’d set a record, finishing the mile faster than any women at the academy before.
“Covert skills.” Alain raised an eyebrow at her. “Poor. Not surprising, though, is it?”
“So I merited an average score.” Said through clenched teeth, and the knowledge that she was being deliberately humiliated. There was no reason for the instructor to go through every one of her exam results and proclaim out loud how much of a disappointment it all way. She was perfectly capable of reading.
Although.
“Reading and literature,” Alain continued, ignoring her earlier question, “below average. Mathematics, average. Oh, here we are.” He held up the last paper and his grin dripped teeth. “Above average in the home arts. That’s something, isn’t it?”
She had done horribly in the home arts, burning or wrecking everything she’d tried to cook or sew. But she had realized early on that the exams were not about assessing her qualifications for graduation from the academy, but for making a point. Putting her in her place.
It was a wonder how far the pen could bend without snapping.
“So what is your recommendation, as my adviser?” She asked as calmly as she could, resisting the urge to snatch the bundle of papers away from him.
Alain folded his hands and regarded her for a few moments. “Well, you’ll graduate. As for after that, had you made any plans?”
“Since I trained for the SID, I’m going to apply for that.” Let them try to put her in her place; she wasn’t going to let that stop her. And maybe in the SID they’d be less inclined to sneer.
Alain sighed and shook his head. “My recommendation? I think that would be a mistake. There have only ever been a handful of female agents, and your scores are mediocre at best. You’ll only embarrass yourself. You should stick to your strengths.” He tapped the home arts score sheet.
“I’m terrible at home arts,” Finley snapped. And my scores are better than average, except that my instructors are more interested in destroying me than teaching me.. Which she would never say aloud, because without a formal accusation of unfair and discriminatory grading practices it was nothing more than gossip. And she had no interest in making a formal complaint, not when to do so would likely just invite the further rage of her enemies. She couldn’t afford that, not when she was so close to graduation. She would take her scores, as average as they were, and find a way to prove herself to people who didn’t despise her on principle.
Instructor Alain looked for a moment like he wasn’t sure how to take her small outburst, but he quickly regained his composure. “Well, based on your exam scores I’m not sure what else I would recommend…”
“Then I think I’ll stick with my original plan,” said Finley.
“You know I won’t be able to write a recommendation to the SID,” said Alain, his sad face just as false as Finley’s exam scores. “I couldn’t possibly, with such a middling showing from you.”
Did he think he was going to shame her away from her dream? Did he have any idea the amount of shame and humiliation she had already been put through, just during her years at the academy? She would have laughed if she wasn’t so angry. Compared to her other instructors, Alain’s words were bordering on kind.
“Well, I won’t ask you to write one,” said Finley, not that she would have asked him anyway.
“You should know, the chances of you getting into the SID without a recommendation from an academy instructor are so small as to be negligible?”
Finley stood up. This conversation was over, if only because she couldn’t trust herself to contain her temper for a single moment longer. “I’m aware. I’m still going to do it. Is that all?”
Alain sighed again and handed over the bundle of papers. “Yes, that’s all.”
kay_brookeStory: The Drakes
Colors: Pineapple Yellow #18 (Give me one good reason I shouldn't punch you in the face), Wizard #20 (NEWTS)
Styles/Supplies: Canvas, Oils (
dailyprompt "ultimately disappointed"), Pastels (origfic_bingo prompt “wound(s)”)Word Count: 732
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply
Summary: Finley doesn't need her instructor's approval.
Note: Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
Finley had a pen clutched tightly in one hand. And the longer Instructor Alain talked, the harder she clutched it, until it was on the verge of breaking.
“Investigative techniques,” said Alain, flipping rapidly through the packet of papers in front of him. “Average.” Flip. “Tactics, average.” Flip. “Reconnaissance skills, average.” Flip. “Physical fitness, average.”
The pen creaked under her hand. She’d set a record, finishing the mile faster than any women at the academy before.
“Covert skills.” Alain raised an eyebrow at her. “Poor. Not surprising, though, is it?”
“So I merited an average score.” Said through clenched teeth, and the knowledge that she was being deliberately humiliated. There was no reason for the instructor to go through every one of her exam results and proclaim out loud how much of a disappointment it all way. She was perfectly capable of reading.
Although.
“Reading and literature,” Alain continued, ignoring her earlier question, “below average. Mathematics, average. Oh, here we are.” He held up the last paper and his grin dripped teeth. “Above average in the home arts. That’s something, isn’t it?”
She had done horribly in the home arts, burning or wrecking everything she’d tried to cook or sew. But she had realized early on that the exams were not about assessing her qualifications for graduation from the academy, but for making a point. Putting her in her place.
It was a wonder how far the pen could bend without snapping.
“So what is your recommendation, as my adviser?” She asked as calmly as she could, resisting the urge to snatch the bundle of papers away from him.
Alain folded his hands and regarded her for a few moments. “Well, you’ll graduate. As for after that, had you made any plans?”
“Since I trained for the SID, I’m going to apply for that.” Let them try to put her in her place; she wasn’t going to let that stop her. And maybe in the SID they’d be less inclined to sneer.
Alain sighed and shook his head. “My recommendation? I think that would be a mistake. There have only ever been a handful of female agents, and your scores are mediocre at best. You’ll only embarrass yourself. You should stick to your strengths.” He tapped the home arts score sheet.
“I’m terrible at home arts,” Finley snapped. And my scores are better than average, except that my instructors are more interested in destroying me than teaching me.. Which she would never say aloud, because without a formal accusation of unfair and discriminatory grading practices it was nothing more than gossip. And she had no interest in making a formal complaint, not when to do so would likely just invite the further rage of her enemies. She couldn’t afford that, not when she was so close to graduation. She would take her scores, as average as they were, and find a way to prove herself to people who didn’t despise her on principle.
Instructor Alain looked for a moment like he wasn’t sure how to take her small outburst, but he quickly regained his composure. “Well, based on your exam scores I’m not sure what else I would recommend…”
“Then I think I’ll stick with my original plan,” said Finley.
“You know I won’t be able to write a recommendation to the SID,” said Alain, his sad face just as false as Finley’s exam scores. “I couldn’t possibly, with such a middling showing from you.”
Did he think he was going to shame her away from her dream? Did he have any idea the amount of shame and humiliation she had already been put through, just during her years at the academy? She would have laughed if she wasn’t so angry. Compared to her other instructors, Alain’s words were bordering on kind.
“Well, I won’t ask you to write one,” said Finley, not that she would have asked him anyway.
“You should know, the chances of you getting into the SID without a recommendation from an academy instructor are so small as to be negligible?”
Finley stood up. This conversation was over, if only because she couldn’t trust herself to contain her temper for a single moment longer. “I’m aware. I’m still going to do it. Is that all?”
Alain sighed again and handed over the bundle of papers. “Yes, that’s all.”
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no subject
Thanks for reading.