Sime/Gen Roleplaying: Bender Cove Township Scenario
Episode #230: Nostalgia (2/28/98)
Mytag puts a cup of trin in front of Darrel.
Darrel picks up the cup, wrapping handling tentacles around it for comfort.
Mytag: Where did you work before you came here, Darrel?
Darrel: Down South, mostly. Far away from the Border.
Darrel: It was nice. No customers freaking out at the sight of tentacles, no drug addicts tearing the place apart....
Mytag: You were raised in-Territory then? Household?
Darrel is feeling very nostalgic for the good old days.
Darrel: No.
Mytag supplies support as automatically as breathing.
Darrel: I'm from Gulf Territory; my parents never bothered to join a Householding, but they weren't junct, either.
Mytag: You were lucky, then. Where did you get your training?
Darrel: A small Tecton camp in East Nivet.
Darrel: And you?
Mytag: Born, breed and raised in Naros.
Mytag: I did spend one summer at a training camp. Learnt more at home, to be truthful.
Mytag puts down his tea.
Darrel's time sense suggests the reason.
Darrel: Our shift's about to start.
Mytag: Yep - you right?
Darrel remembers the days when he would have looked forward to working.
Darrel: As well as I'm going to be.
Mytag: If you like I can get the clients and bring them in to you.
Mytag: No need for you to go get them. That way you can work on the paper work between.
Darrel: ~~ tempted ~~
Darrel: Well...
Mytag: ~ everything is fine ~
Darrel: The manual recommends meeting out-T donors personally, to reassure them, but we can give it a try and see how it goes.
Darrel leads the way to his usual donation room.
Darrel feels reasonably confident until Mytag leaves to get the first donor, then realizes just whose confidence it was.
Darrel looks down at his knotting tentacles.
Darrel: Shen!
Darrel: Can't handle a skittish Gen like this.
Mytag enters the lobby and picks up a file.
Darrel runs through the relaxation exercises he learned during training.
Darrel is suddenly aware of the fatal flaw in Mytag's plan for disaster-avoidance: any client he brings will come directly from the Dreaded Lobby!
Mytag looks up. "Warren Peterson?"
Warren: That's me.
Warren jumps up, looking eager.
Warren: I've come to make a donation.
Warren: This is where you donate celin, isn't it?
Mytag: Err... Selyn, yes.
Darrel putters about the donation room, unable to sit still.
Mytag: My name is Mytag. Hajene Darrel will be taking your donation.
Mytag: If you would like to come this way?
Mytag: Have you donated before?
Warren: Oh yes, many times.
Warren: Well, actually not very often.
Warren: Ummm, this will be my second donation.
Warren nods.
Mytag thinks, "oh, great."
Mytag: Well then, you know that all you have to do is relax, it doesn't take long.
Warren: Actually last time wasn't at a Center.
Warren: Was sort of a surprise.
Warren: I was just out walking and then this guy came along and offered me money.
Warren: But you are right - was sure quick.
Mytag opens the door to the donation room just in time for Darrel to have heard these last comments.
Darrel's fears are realized: another nutcase!
Darrel looks to Mytag for support and an introduction.
Mytag: Hajene, this is Warren. [hands over folder]
Mytag resumed support as soon as he opened the door.
Darrel zlins Warren cautiously as he inspects the file for irregularities.
Warren looks at Darrel in some surprise, cleaner and more professional looking then he expected compared to some of the other Sime channels he has met (i.e. Snake and BumBum).
Warren: ~ keen, expectant ~
Darrel: All right, then. If you've donated before, you know there isn't much to it.
Darrel: Why don't you sit down there, and we can start?
Mytag is careful to stay in a position to block anything unexpected while giving Darrel freedom to maneuver.
Warren sits down where he is told to and pushes up his sleeves to bare hairy, Gen arms.
Warren: So, how much will I get today?
Warren: ~ eager ~
Mytag puts a hand on Darrel's shoulder.
Darrel: It depends on how much I get.
Darrel: The Tecton pays by the dynopter, you see.
Darrel cautiously takes Warren's arms and wraps handling tentacles around them.
Warren: By the what oter?
Warren watches Darrel's tentacles.
Warren: It was so fast last time, never got to see what was happening, really.
Darrel: By the dynopter. That's how we measure selyn.
Darrel leans on Mytag's support for a moment, then lets his laterals make contact.
Warren squints, head down, at the smaller softer looking pink tentacles
Warren: ~ interest ~
Darrel lets Warren observe; after all, curious is MUCH better than terrified.
Warren presents the top of his head to Darrel.
Darrel: I'll let you make the fifth contact when you're ready.
Darrel hopes it's soon, so his laterals don't dry out.
Warren: What contact?
Warren looks up.
Darrel decides that there are times when demonstrations are more effective than explanations.
Darrel: Like this.
Darrel makes lip contact.
Darrel zlins the state of Warren's health, since he's a new donor.
Mytag smiles slightly but lets Darrel explain.
Mytag: ~ support ~
Warren pulls his head back.
Warren: ~ healthy ~
Warren: What do you think you are doing!
Warren: I'm NOT that sort of person.
Warren tries to take his arms back.
Darrel doesn't let Warren's arms move.
Mytag: ~ increased support ~ Warren, please hold still.
Darrel: I'm trying to take your donation, as you requested.
Warren: Just don't kiss me, okay?
Darrel: To do so, I have to have a fifth contact.
Warren: Sheesh.
Darrel: You've done this before.
Warren: I heard stories about this place.
Warren: You mean you HAVE to kiss me?
Warren looks incredulous.
Warren: I thought that other guy was just weird, too.
Warren: ~ suddenly not liking the idea ~
Darrel: To take your donation, I have to have a fifth contact to balance the fields.
Mytag: It will be very quick.
Mytag: ~ soothing ~
Warren: Well, okay, but NO tongue.
Darrel: Certainly not. [indignant]
Warren: Okay. Make it quick.
Darrel makes the contact, eliminating the possibility of further objections.
Warren: ~ nervous ~
Warren holds sort of still.
Darrel draws as fast as he can from the GN-3 level without causing any sensation, cursing the sudden nervousness.
Warren thinks "bunch of perverts".
Darrel decides that trying for the GN-2 level isn't worth putting up with Warren's disgust, and breaks the lip contact.
Darrel: There. All done.
Darrel carefully withdraws his laterals.
Mytag holds a unwavering support.
Darrel leans on Mytag's support, then releases Warren.
Warren grabs the towel off Mytag and scrubs at his lips with it before rubbing his arms dry.
Warren: ~ scowling ~
Warren glares at Mytag, too.
Darrel sighs, and starts writing out a voucher.
Mytag smiles sweetly at Warren and winks.
Darrel hands the voucher to Warren.
Mytag makes a mental note to make sure that Warrens file suggests that he be handled by a female channel next time - if there is a next time.
Darrel: Here. If you'll take that to the bursar's office down the hall, she'll see that you receive your donation payment.
Warren looks away from Mytag quickly and watches Darrel filling out the voucher.
Warren: What's this, then?
Darrel: Your donation voucher.
Darrel: It's a record of how much selyn you donated, and therefore, how much you have earned.
Warren looks at the voucher.
Warren: This isn't even half of what that other guy gave me!
Warren: What sort of rip off is this?
Warren gapes at the amount.
Warren looks threateningly at Darrel.
Darrel: This is the standard Tecton payment.
Warren hands him back the paper.
Warren: This isn't right.
Warren: Fix it.
Warren: ~ threatening ~
Darrel: As you continue to donate, you will be able to give more selyn, and your payment will increase.
Mytag keeps his support steadily on Darrel.
Mytag: Warren, I don't know what you were paid last time, but I assure you that this is the Tecton's rate.
Darrel is not terribly impressed with the threat: no Gen can physically overpower a Sime, and Warren is too lowfield to cause trouble nagerically.
Warren glares at Darrel.
Darrel looks back at Warren, his expression one of polite firmness.
Warren takes a step forward, he towers over Darrel. (Of course, Darrel is sitting down.)
Warren waits for Darrel to wimp out.
Darrel keeps his expression professionally neutral.
Mytag takes the voucher.
Mytag: Shall I show you where the bursar's office is?
Warren sees his voucher (pathetic as it is) disappearing and makes a grab for it.
Warren: Hey, that's mine!
Warren snatches it from Mytag's hand.
Mytag lets it go.
Mytag: Certainly is, want me to show you where to cash it?
Warren just glares at them both and storms out.
Mytag turns to Darrel.
Mytag: You okay?
Darrel slumps.
Darrel: I should have known better than to expect a normal client to come through that lobby....
Darrel: I'm beginning to think the place has a curse on it, which causes all donors to go stark raving bonkers.
Darrel shudders.
Mytag: I think that all the regular sane types go to the Uptown Center.
Mytag: And we get left with the rest.
Darrel: Do you think we could get Controller Briel to send us to the Uptown Center?
Darrel's tentacles are twitching pathetically.
Mytag: From what I hear, they are overstaffed, if anything.
Mytag: Here, let's get you settled again.
Mytag takes Darrel into transfer position.
Mytag wonders if there is some trauma in Darrel's past that he hasn't been frank about.
Darrel clutches at Mytag for security.
Mytag: ~ soothing ~
Mytag: Try to think of it as "interesting" rather then disturbing.
Darrel: There's an old curse: "May you live in interesting times."
Mytag laughs.
Mytag: Well, better interesting then dull.
Darrel: Give me dull any day.
Darrel: I've had enough interesting in the past month to last me a lifetime.
Mytag nods.
Mytag: I know you didn't have a Donor with you much last month.
Darrel: Not even for transfer.
Darrel: She just--never showed up.
Mytag: I heard she quit.
Mytag: Well, don't let it worry you. That was an extreme occurrence.
Mytag: Probably never happy to you again.
Darrel: This Center seems to specialize in extreme occurrences.
Mytag: ~ I'm here ~
Mytag: I'd be happy to move some of my things into your room and stay with you, for the rest of the month, if you like.
Mytag: On one condition.
Mytag waits.
Darrel: What's that?
Darrel: ~~ hope warring with pessimism ~~
Mytag flutters his eyes at Darrel.
Mytag: You DON'T tell Warren.
Mytag finally can't stand it any longer and bursts out laughing.
Darrel is a bit confused about why Mytag thinks he'd be talking to Warren, but Gen laughter is infectious, and he joins in.
Darrel: It's a deal.