Man VS Machine [solo]

The studio apartment was devoid of any furniture, and there wasn’t a single sign of someone’s residence there apart from a pile of untouched cardboard boxes relegated to one of its four corners. The walls were a faded yellow, the floors were generic but clean wooden panels, and the door to the bathroom was wide open to reveal the bare minimum amenities associated with one such room. On the floor sat a young woman dressed in a plain t-shirt and shorts, her short blonde hair kept out of her face with a series of haphazardly placed pins. It was Althea, and her severe gaze was trained on a particular cardboard box in front of her. The rectangular container was decently big, but it was still small enough that the average person of Althea’s build wouldn’t have found it daunting to lug around. Carefully and delicately, the aetherial released its tape and removed the styrofoam padding, her hands taking out the contaminants to reveal yet another cardboard box. However, this new box of possibilities was far from the same as that empty brown packaging that preceded it.

Labeled in stylish, modern print was the name ‘El Chefe Panini Press Grill Sandwich Maker 180.’  Althea looked down at the piece of modern kitchenware with dull, uncaring eyes, but her tense grip on the cardboard gave away her intense anticipation. Despite having the option to reside in Fairy Tail’s dormitory, she turned down a room in Fairy Hill to rent out one of her own. It wasn’t that her empty studio apartment was any better, in fact, it was most likely infinitely worse in quality. Despite her many escapades in her years as a mage for hire, she struggled immensely to actually locate any of her payments. No, she just wanted to retain a certain sense of distance from her guild and all those within it. There was no need to aim towards “befriending” Fairy Tail’s members as she had before, making lost lasting relationships was actually the opposite of being a priority at the moment.

Anyways, here the aetherial was, silently sitting in an apartment with an unopened box. She hadn’t originally gone online shopping for her living space with the intent of getting a sandwich machine, but… something about the idea of instantly and easily making delicious food in your own home… It was too tantalizing of an offer. Either way, Althea hadn’t spent her money on anything else particularly important. Some furniture to put together later, a small television, all things she didn’t necessarily need. Money was meant to be spent, so Althea didn’t feel any need to needlessly horde it for no reason. It was rather fun to get a bunch of “stuff” delivered right to your door, and it wasn’t like she had anything important to spend it on.

At any rate, Althea had a box to open. With the same care she afforded to the initial box that contains this one, she pried open the container and extracted her treasure: the sandwich maker. “Hoo.”  She couldn’t help but let out an impressed sigh as she sat cross-legged, turning over the device in her hands. This wasn’t her first time encountering a contraption such as this one, and there was no doubt that her from a couple years ago would’ve been absolutely ecstatic to own one. However, it hadn’t been that long since Althea returned from the Aetherial Wastes, and she was too busy using her emotional energy on coming to terms that she was finally back. But that was enough inspection, it was time to hurry up and try it out.

The young woman placed removed all the plastic wrapping, discarding it carelessly every which way through her apartment, and placed the sandwich press on the floorboards. And then, with a quick and decisive movement, she opened the sandwich maker…!

“...”

And came across a fatal flaw in her plans. She had seen a sandwich maker before, but she hadn’t ever bothered committing to memory how you’re meant to use one. The description online said it’d be simple to use, so it surely couldn’t be that complicated. Just in case though, Althea opened and closed the contraption a few times to ensure that her first attempt wasn’t just a one-off occurrence. Slowly close it, then slowly open it, peering into the widening gap to check for if a sandwich had appeared in its silvery maws. But despite her care, Althea’s efforts turned up no fruit. No matter how many times she tried opening and closing the machine, and no matter the speed, there weren’t any sandwiches in sight. Folding her arms as she gazed coldly down at the press, the spirit began to ponder some other alternative machine-activating techniques. Finally, she came to the conclusion that instead of simply relying on her lackluster knowledge about the subject, she was far better off just utilizing the insights of those most versed in technology. That was right, the spirit would be turning to the manual for answers.

Inspecting the labeled box that the machine originated from didn’t help much. There were several testimonies about its effectiveness and some pictures of sandwiches being generated by the device, but no ‘how-to.’  However, upon reinspecting the insides, she came across a pamphlet of paper she had previously overlooked. From the small text and bold words printed across it reading ‘Instructions,’ Althea could only deduce this was the manual she sought. “Hmm, how dull.”  Despite it holding the directions for how to utilize a seemingly mythical instrument of cooking, it was incredibly mundane to read. Thankfully, if spending who knows how long wandering around taught her anything, it was patience. Trudging through the preamble of safety instructions and disclaimers, Althea finally found the information she was actually looking for.

“Step one, turn on the sandwich maker.”  She mumbled, cycling her gaze between the machine in front of her and the marvel depicted in the manual’s diagram. Now that she looked at it, there were all sorts of knobs and little lights adorning its metallic surface. Letting out a sigh, she pressed the same ‘on’ button as shown in the illustration, opened the sandwich maker, and… nothing. Althea’s eyebrows furrowed as she closed the device and repeated the whole process. Still, nothing. There wasn’t a single sandwich in sight, let alone any cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, or any of the components typically seen in between two slices of bread. As far as Althea was concerned, there were only two explanations. One, she was doing something wrong. Two, there was something wrong with the machine itself. However, considering her faithful recreation of the button pressing demonstrated in the operation manual, the aetherial was more inclined to believe the former.

And as she gazed back at the pamphlet in her hands, she noticed something. There was a strange black line drawn from the sandwich maker, and Althea drew her face closer to the image, her amber eyes squinted. What in the world was that meant to be?  A printing mistake perhaps?  But composting the visage of her sandwich machine with the one in the manual, there was a clear difference. Hers too had a strange black line, but at the end of it was a plug. Once again, she came to a crossroads. Who was wrong, her or the manufacturer?  Something wasn’t working, and she had to pick. In the end, she raised her pointer finger, enveloping it in a white mist with a deep, dark glow. Then, using her other hand to grab her sandwich maker’s “line,” she performed some quick corrective surgery. The magic was more than enough to incinerate the cord’s plug. Once pruning to a satisfactory degree, Althea once again tried her hands at sandwich creation. She pressed the button before gently opening the lid but was once again met with a whole lot of nothing. Unwilling to simply give up, she closed the lid and alternated between a variety of button-pressing techniques for one that would produce a sandwich. Long and soft pushes, quick and hard ones, but it was all for naught.

At this point, Althea was ready to concede that this sandwich issue wasn’t something she was equipped to solve on her own. Her course of action in regard to the cord was wholly binary, but after choosing one side over the other, it became very difficult to diagnose exactly where she went wrong. Maybe her choice to simply and quickly correct the cord with her magic was incorrect?  It was wholly possible that professionals had some sort of specialized tools for doing so. However, it was equally possible that cutting the cord was in fact NOT the right solution to her conundrum. So, Althea put the device back into its box, slipped on a pair of socks and sneakers, and left her studio apartment with her sandwich maker.

After only a bit of walking, she arrived at her destination: the local corner store. Sadly, there didn’t seem to be a counter dedicated to her particular issue of “I think my sandwich maker is broken, can you please tell me if I was supposed to cut the cord or not?”. But still, she didn’t place any fault on them for their lack of preparedness. It wasn’t every day that someone needed assistance with operating their brand-new El Chefe Panini Press Grill Sandwich Maker 180. Since there wasn’t anyone else at the store’s counter, Althea strode right up to it, placing down her boxed sandwich maker with a resolute thud.

“Hi. I need help with this.”  She explained simply, removing the machine.

The cashier seemed far from prepared for the aetherial’s sudden entrance into the store and subsequent query, their drowsy eyes slowly blinking as they visibly processed what she just said. But eventually, they seemed to give up, instead replying with a confused, “Excuse me?”

“I need help with this sandwich device I ordered online.”

“You ordered this online… and is there anything at all stopping you from calling the manufacturer?  Why did you think… nevermind. Either way, I can’t help you, ma’am.”

Althea tilted her head, placing a hand on her chin. As an establishment that sold basic elements of cooking, it had only made sense to her that the corner store also specialized in culinary instruments. However, she guessed that the topics were far more complex than she had previously bothered to investigate. “I see… but I already read the manufacturer’s manual. It didn’t help.”  She held up her machine’s charred, severed cord. “I’m still confused about this part.”

They let out an exasperated sigh, alternating an exhausted gaze between the young woman and the sandwich maker. “Ma’am, I don’t know where you got this thing, but it’s completely busted. Did the cord come like that???”

“No, I tried fixing it myself.”  At this point, the cashier’s expression eclipsed exasperation, moving firmly into the territory of pure astonishment and confusion. Maybe further elaboration would help?  “It came with a plug at the end, but I cut it off.”

“Why would you–??!”  The cashier let out a confounded exclamation but quickly regained their professionality. “I’m not being paid enough for this. Please go home and learn how to use common appliances.”  They once again cast a vexed gaze at the sandwich maker. “You cut off the plug, and just from looking at it, I can already see that the button is completely done for.”  The cashier massaged their forehead, “What did you do?  Use a hammer to try and see if pressing it harder would work?”  They mumbled under their breath. The employee probably didn’t intend for Althea to actually hear them, but despite her no longer having the enhanced senses of a dragon slayer, there was nothing stopping her from doing so. Her sense of smell had gotten a significant downgrade that she hadn’t really noticed until coming back to the streets of Magnolia, but everything else was simply all right. But either way, she really couldn’t get mad at them for their comments. Now that she thought of it, they weren’t necessarily wrong. Soft button presses and hard button presses really were subjective.

Clearly, there was still a lot more adjusting to Earthland for Althea to do. Without saying a single word, she took her sandwich machine, left the corner store, and headed home. If she still felt like eating a sandwich later, the blonde could just go buy one.