What do you do?
 

Me? I'm a sorcerer.

No, I'm serious.

Sorcerers in fantasy things use arcane incantations, often in esoteric languages, tapping into forces that are usually only partially understood, especially by the masses.

I use structured statements (arcane incantations) in programming languages (esoteric languages), to make computers do cool stuff. And I only have a broad understanding of how a computer really works on the inside. I likely could never teach a medieval society to make a circuit board.



So, what do you do?

Don't tell me you're a barrista. Tell me you're a creator of invigorating draughts to energize wayward, uh... Hipsters? Desk Jockeys? You know...whatever kinds of people go to Starbucks regularly.

lol, This one is easier for me. I'm an elementalist, having control over fire and ice. (I'm a vender for heating and cooling services XD)

Oh, yes, everyone needs the services of a good elementalist, now and then!

As long as they use their powers for good, of course.

I am a Bard without a lute,
Working in a monastery,
I call fourth the starlights,
And measure water-sprites,
And wear time with my whim.

(In short: Writer & College Student - History, Geology, and Astronomy)

And I, as well, take up the name of bard,
with many verses wove upon these keys.
My words bring people any lore they seek.
My writings entertain them far and wide.

(I work for Google/YouTube. Search and video!)

I am the gatekeeper to the halls of wonders, a dazzling cavern of light and sound where, for sacrifices of varying severity, pilgrims may claim a material boon. However, not all who enter the cave of awesome and terrifying purchases have good intent, and some wish to steal away the trophies of wonder that we possess. Therefore, my Order has seen fit to bestow upon me the ability to forcibly detain those knaves who would remove our blessings without paying tithe. I am the Archivist, responsible for everything we possess, and casting down upon those leaving us the gaze of judgment, deeming them a rightful owner or heretical thief. My power is mighty, and my voice alone causes tremor and doubt to creep in to even the most guiltless of minds. Those who stay within the tenets of the agreement merely display their documents before allowing to proceed. However, those I catch sullying our abode are placed in the confinement purgatory to await judgment.

(I am the Asset Protections Specialist at Best Buy. This is fun though, I'm going to do one for all of my other jobs later.)

I am a wisewoman, I call upon the spirits to procure herbal remedies to ease others pain.

((I am not going to go into what that means. xD))

T_T
You always have to one-up everyone, dontcha?

xD If you think about it, it's not that hard to figure out...

I am a Green Mushroom.

But no not really, but I can't draw worth a damn so I have to at least practice what I was hired to do sometimes. =P

Yes, I agree Dolly. xD

OMG, its so much fun reading all of these. XD We need to do more things like this. Maybe hold a contest to describe different jobs? owo

From his position at the gates, the Archivist on sentry stood watch. With several artifacts of scrying he watched those who would enter his domain from afar, peering down upon them as they consulted with the other scribes for knowledge of the material boons they wished to acquire. His concentration is interrupted as the siren spells cast to alert of thieves sets off its shrill wail. Approaching the hapless traveler, the Gatekeeper on watch extends his hand, wordlessly taking their items and documents. His eyes pour over them, confirming that their papers are in order. He scrutinizes the contents of the sack, noting that the type of item, a Card of Many Memories has a habit of setting off the traps he has laid. After verifying the purchases, the Gatekeeper assures the trembling individual that there is nothing to worry about, and that they may proceed with their day and exit from these hallowed halls.

(Someone's purchase of an SD card wasn't de-magnetized and set off the security alarm.)

"No, and no, again I say it, no!"

The bard strikes at the keys of his instrument and dashes several lines of his manuscript to the ground.

"Alack! The ciphers here do not align,
nor do they speak of tidings fair. Alas!"

He takes up a hefty tome, weighty with the annals of those who have come and gone, and slowly turns its pages, searching through history in hopes of discerning the truth, so that no one would object when his script is performed to a live audience.

(I've been looking through a LOT of logs to try to figure out what's going on with some code I'm working on, and it's really quite frustrating.)