19th of Summer, 513 AV. Slowly swishing a thin piece of dried beef around in his mouth, Matthew watched the daily ongoings of the Great Harbor with interested eyes. If he was looking to start a business himself, he figured the best way to start on some business skills would be to watch a large and successful business in action. The biggest and most well-known was likely the Harbor, so he had headed there, quill and paper in hand. He now sat upon an empty wooden box, sailors and knights running around like dozens of busy worker ants. They swarmed, carrying boxes here and there, helping ships dock over there, taking notes and Mizas over there, yelling and directing trafffic over there. It was all a bit much to take in, but he was barely managing, with glistening blue eyes loving all the information in front of him. He would study one little operation for several hours, taking mental note of how the leader of the group directed the workflow, and how the workers of the group managed to split up the work between themselves in an effective way. His first study was a group of knights and their leader who were merely counting the incoming cargo on a docked and unloaded ship. It was a small one, but there were dozens upon dozens of small boxes, making it a bit of a headache to accurately count. As Matthew watched, he tried to take notes, his horrible handwriting complete chicken scratch to anyone but himself. His hand was slow and shaky, his letters fumbled and messy. He had taken hours on his business cards and posters, so writing quick notes on the spot was practically impossible. He could read, but writing? Nonetheless, he needed to have some sort of study material. He watched the leader first, jotting down shorthand to help lessen all the scrawling he was going to have to do. The leadership role was the one he was looking to learn, so wouldn't it make sense to analyze it first? It only took the harlot about 15 minutes before his fingers wore out, clutching the quill much too tightly and attempting to write much too quickly. His overly-analytical mind had ended up being his bane, and his notes were all a scrambled mess of information. Half of the information was much too detailed, like a section where he had described the different tones of voice the leader had used to command his employees. Was it really something the leader did on purpose? Furrowing his brow, Matthew let out a deep sigh, gathering up his materials. Drying off the quill and corking the ink, he stuffed the items into his jacket pocket, hopping off of the box he had been on. Since he had somewhat failed in his studious observation, he figured it might be best to try and turn his trip to the Harbor into something productive. Wandering down the vast array of little shops, ships, and all sorts of stands, he tried his best to soak everything in. The smell of the ocean air was actually quite comforting, and he sucked it in, bringing back memories of his home back in Zeltiva. |