Sime~Gen Roleplaying: District Controller's Office Scenario
Episode #23: Hoi Polloi (4/29/99)
Nick sits near Arat's desk, absently providing support as he reads the newspaper.
Nick is wearing the Tecton's despised uniform pants over his new walking cast, but one of his new, non-regulation shirts over it.
Nick has stored a proper uniform shirt in the office, so that he can change for work involving patient contact.
Nick is willing to make some concessions to make his channel happy, after all.
Arat is frowning in utter lack of concentration at Jeniard's report.
Arat's tolerance for paperwork has plunged dramatically since he started getting more channeling work again.
Nick looks up and notices the frown.
Nick: Is something wrong?
Arat: I can't concentrate.
Arat's tone makes it clear he is affronted at the world in general because of this.
Nick's nageric support firms in a highly professional manner which contrasts with his casual dress.
Nick: Turnover?
Arat: Yes. [admits]
Nick sets the paper aside and takes Arat's hands.
Nick: Hmmmm.
Nick runs his fingers lightly up Arat's lateral sheathes, using the closer contact to stabilize Arat.
Nick: That better?
Arat allows Nick to work on him, since he was obviously getting nothing done anyway, and besides, it feels nice.
Arat is not used to using "it feels nice" as a reason for anything, but the excuse of treating/training/recruiting Nick has caused a number of temporary changes in his behavior.
Arat: Yes.
Nick looks at the stacks of paper on Arat's desk.
Nick: Is the Tecton going to collapse if you don't sign those reports in the next hour or two?
Arat: Probably not.
Arat tries to smile, but he hasn't much practice.
Nick: Well, then, why don't we go for a walk? I don't think you've been outside the building since I got here.
Nick: The exercise'll do you good.
Arat's expression turns to one of suppressed alarm.
Arat: Well, that would be, that is....
Arat is at a loss as to what Tecton regulation might prohibit such a thing, but is sure there must be one.
Nick: How long has it been since you got away from the Sime Center?
Arat: I have been very busy.
Nick stands.
Arat looks up at him.
Nick: But as you said yourself, the reports can wait a few hours, and we aren't due for a work shift until after lunch.
Arat: But... [realizes he's been outmaneuvered]
Arat: All right.
Arat: But only for a few minutes.
Nick smiles, and rewards Arat with ~~ light-hearted happiness ~~
Arat sighs as the light hearted happiness imbues his black shriveled small heart with something approaching adventurous optimism.
Arat finds it disquieting.
Nick: I spotted a little tea shop the other day. Not far at all.
Arat: Very well.
Arat thinks it's been years since the average person on the street knew who he was, and besides, those sorts of people who have to go up and talk to every Farris they see are few and far between.
Nick walks slowly towards the door, without aid of crutches.
Arat looks at the papers on his desk, starts to ask Nick to stop and wait until he's cleaned up, then gives up and rises to follow.
Arat after all is trying to be as agreeable as possible in order to win Nick over.
Arat hasn't gotten the impression that Nick is too big on office tidiness, while the going outside business seems to mean a lot to the Gen.
Nick eyes Arat's uniform, which is likely to be highly out of place on the street, but decides not to make an issue of it.
Nick isn't even sure that Arat has any clothes except his uniforms.
Nick pockets the Farris medkit Arat keeps by the door as he goes by, out of sheer reflex.
Arat takes note of the movement, and nods thoughtfully to himself.
Nick hums a popular (if lamentably working-class) ballad as they go down the hall.
Arat finds the humming almost unbearably irritating, but makes no comment.
Arat: [a tension through his shoulders and an all too characteristic scowl are evident, although these have partly to do with the chore of having to go out and about in the 'real' world]
Nick stops humming as they reach the stairs, which still require care, although the walking cast isn't as awkward as the crutches.
Nick: Hmm, I'll be glad when this ankle is really healed.
Nick is, however, too ~~ happy ~~ at the prospect of getting outside to be really annoyed at the inconvenience.
Arat watches Nick's descent closely as he follows behind.
Arat isn't worried that Nick will get hurt per se; he's just a control freak.
Nick is well aware of Arat's attention, and the reason for it, but considers it a normal part of working with a channel.
Nick has perhaps spent too much time working with Farris channels.
Nick reaches the bottom, and heads for the nearby side door in order to get outdoors sooner, rather than going through the main lobby.
Arat: Wait.
Arat: I will have to sign out.
Nick pauses, raising an eyebrow.
Nick: Oh.
Arat turns the other way, making for the station where the log is kept.
Nick follows.
Brinnly is trying hard to look busy at the main desk.
Brinnly is filling in the time considering how she should place her bet on the Nick-Arat honeymoon issue.
Arat goes to the log and carefully signs himself out, taking time due to his fussy script, and taking a new line because the last time he signed in was well before this particular log was born. [ignoring Brinnly]
Brinnly glances casually at the person signing the log, than straightens with what an unkind individual might call a faint squeal.
Brinnly: Controller Arat!
Arat looks up sharply.
Brinnly sees Nick behind him, and her eyes widen even more as she stares avidly.
Arat looks at Nick to see what Brinnly is looking at, then back at Brinnly.
Arat: Yes, what is it? [stiffly]
Brinnly: Err... I hadn't been notified that you were scheduled to attend the Diplomatic Corps reception and luncheon.
Brinnly smiles weakly.
Brinnly glances at the notorious rogue Donor again, noting that he is definitely not in uniform.
Brinnly wonders what the diplomatic types will say about that.
Brinnly wonders who'd be willing to go for a side bet.
Arat: We are not attending the reception.
Arat: We are just going out for some air.
Brinnly: Oh.
Arat makes a mental note to steer clear of any restaurant fancy enough to be housing such a reception.
Brinnly has been working at the Capitol Sime Center longer than Arat, and can't recall him ever "going out for air".
Brinnly had been considering shortening her original bet on the length of the honeymoon, after hearing about the shirt-buying episode, however, she now doubles her previous estimate.
Brinnly: Will you want an escort, Controller Arat?
Brinnly peeks at Nick again.
Arat: That will not be necessary. [firmly]
Arat: Come along, Nick.
Arat walks away from the desk, with some vague idea that this will keep him from exploding at the hapless clerk.
Arat doesn't usually bother, but with Nick present....
Nick follows Arat, letting his ~~ cheer ~~ permeate the ambient.
Arat: I find such behavior tedious, [complains] I really wish they wouldn't.
Nick: Wouldn't what?
Nick is all ~~ sympathy ~~ for Arat's having to deal with Tecton tedium.
Arat: Gossip.
Arat: It's unproductive, in some cases destructive, and I find it personally irritating as well.
Arat of course has tried to keep most of it from Nick, particularly the bit about the running bet.
Nick: I've seen worse.
Nick has a gene-deep feel for the intensity of gossip around him.
Arat wishes, for just a moment, that he was free to be himself, which would surely squash those bits of rumors foolish enough to stray into his presence, but then sighs, resigning himself to modified behavior until the question of Nick's future is settled.
Nick: I'd think there'd be lots of people coming and going here... they'll find something else to talk about soon enough.
Arat neglects to hold the door open for Nick, inadvertently hanging back to let Nick do it for him.
Nick: ~~ comfort ~~
Arat is somewhat mollified by Nick's pleasant nager.
Nick opens the door himself, then goes through first, pushing it a bit wider so that Arat can catch it before it closes.
Nick pauses to draw a deep breath of the fresh air.
Nick: Aaaahhhh!
Nick: ~~ delight ~~
Arat follows, then stops just outside the door, like a skittish horse confronted with a huge jump.
Nick sets off boldly, if not quite at his usual speed.
Nick is, of course, not currently sprinting after a channel, which explains the difference.
Arat hesitates, then forces himself to catch up to Nick.
Nick's nager ~~ welcomes ~~ Arat.
Arat has always loathed public places, which combine way too many strangers' nagers in way too much space, and no practical or socially acceptable way to control them all.
Nick: The tea place was a few blocks this way.
Nick sets off between government buildings.
Arat therefore tries to ignore those around them as if they weren't there, and cushions his perceptions with Nick's large nager.
Arat walks along at his side.
Nick is, of course, much more accustomed to escorting highly sensitive channels in crowd situations than the average Tecton Donor.
Nick does out of habit allow Arat to zlin enough of the surrounding nagers to spot potential medical problems, although not to be particularly bothered by them.
Beggar thinks he spots a likely prospect: a Tecton channel escorting a Gen.
Beggar knows that Tecton channels make a lot, and being Gen, can't zlin that Nick is a Donor in civvies.
Beggar steps out of his doorway.
Beggar: Spare some change, Hajene?
Nick automatically evaluates the beggar's physical condition, forgetting for a moment that Arat isn't necessarily going to consider him fair game.
Beggar reaches out to pluck at Arat's sleeve, grinning with rotting teeth.
Arat twitches away from the Beggar and goes around him.
Nick hesitates a tiny instant, then follows Arat.
Beggar lets out a string of curses at their backs.
Arat ignores it, though his tension has increased.
Nick moves closer to Arat, trying to ~~ calm ~~ the tension.
Arat obligingly tucks into the added nageric cover.
Nick: He was just a beggar. Harmless enough.
Arat's eyes rove over the seething masses, not exactly nervously, but tensely.
Arat might have been better off being just a bit shorter, so he wouldn't have to have such a good view of it all.
Arat: Yes, I suppose so.
Nick, in contrast, is relaxing more as they enter the fringes of a working-class neighborhood.
Arat is showing many of the characteristics of a high strung race horse in unfamiliar surroundings.
Nick: The tea place is right around the corner there.
Nick wonders if Arat has enemies among the teamsters or something; they're not in a bad enough part of town for it to be drug dealers.
Arat nods shortly.
Nick pauses to look longingly in the window of the clothing store at a particularly flashy pair of pants.
Arat will be glad when they have settled in one spot and he can keep a good eye on everything around them.
Nick: Those look like they're my size.
Arat stops beside him, then follows his gaze.
Arat: Those? [disbelief]
Nick: At least, if you leave off the cast.
Arat: Perhaps you had better let me buy you some clothing.
Arat had been appalled by what Nick had brought back with him on his solo shopping spree.
Arat is a clothing snob, as much as he is any kind of snob, which is a lot.
Nick can guess the kind of sober, conservative stuff Arat would pick out.
Arat also has a thing about clothing fitting properly, particularly on Gens.
Nick: I wouldn't want to put you to any trouble.
Nick: Besides, I can't try anything on until the cast is gone.
Nick moves reluctantly away from the window.
Arat: True.
Nick is used to dealing with channels who don't appreciate proper clothes, although at least Arat's are clean, and without the intervention of Linn, either.
Arat mentally arranges for a laundering mishap to befall Nick's original purchases, just as soon as some mutually acceptable substitutes can be found.
Arat had been prepared to put up with the loud clothing, back when he'd assumed they'd never be seen in public together, but now....
Nick wanders slowly on towards the tea shop, ~~ comfortably relaxed ~~ in the familiar surroundings in a way which he isn't at the Sime Center.
Arat is saved from extreme discomfort by the blunting effect of Nick's mood.
Nick goes into the tea shop, which is not that much different from the one in which he met Snake.
Arat hasn't had much contact with these places at all, having been under a restraining order to remain in Sime Centers during his first 5 years of service, and then being limited by his fame, his busy schedule, his tendency to spend his free time in private with Jeniard and, ultimately, by simple habit.
Nick sniffs appreciatively at the odor of reasonably decent trin, and baked goods.
Waiter: Goooooood afternoon, gentlemen! [oozes]
Waiter picks up a couple of menus.
Waiter: Two?
Nick: Yes.
Waiter: Smoking, or non-smoking?
Nick: Non-smoking.
Waiter: Window, sidewalk, or interior?
Nick glances at Arat to see if he has a strong preference.
Arat's gaze shifts to the waiter, suggesting a strong... irritation.
Waiter gulps.
Nick: How about that table over there?
Waiter: Yes, of course.
Nick points to a rather secluded nook, with empty tables around it.
Waiter scurries off in that direction as if chased by wild dogs.
Nick: You didn't have to scare her to death, you know.
Nick is a touch ~~ amused ~~ at the reaction, though.
Nick follows the waiter.
Arat follows without comment.
Waiter puts the two menus down, nervously making several changes as to which two place settings are in which positions around the square table.
Waiter: ~~ flustered ~~
Nick: Why don't you bring us a pot of the Serendipity blend to start out?
Waiter: What would you like to drink fi... er... yes, right away.
Waiter ducks around Arat and scampers off.
Nick sits.
Arat looks around, and then sits stiffly.
Customer comes out of the ladies' room, and her eyes widen as she zlins the new scenery.
Arat wonders what makes this so much more desirable than the peace and quiet of the office, or, in a pinch, of the executive lounge.
Arat: [for Nick]
Customer figures that the channel is past turnover and therefore probably not interested, but then, she's always preferred Gens anyway.
Customer sashays over to Nick and Arat's table.
Customer: Well, hel-lo there, handsome! [to Nick]
Waiter reappears almost immediately, bearing a scalding hot pot of water, a jar of leaves, and two cups and saucers.
Arat stares at the Customer, caught by surprise by her bold approach of Nick.
Nick looks up, with moderate interest, although he doesn't let it interfere with his nager.
Waiter leans between Nick and the other customer to place the two tea cups on the table, balancing the rest of the tray.
Customer: I'd saw you looking lonely, and thought I'd come over and welcome you to the neighborhood.
Customer tries to bend over to give Nick a good view of her (Simely modest, alas) cleavage.
Nick always has appreciated such scenery, even when he's not actively looking for company.
Arat grinds his teeth as these extra distractions wreck what little good he'd been getting out of the outing previously.
Arat: Would you people kindly go away? [snaps]
Nick jumps up his support to full-muffle, blocking all other nageric influences.
Waiter jumps, spilling water about the table, but manages to finish putting down the teapot and the jar before fleeing.
Customer yelps as some of the hot water splashes on her.
Customer: ~~ burning ~~
Arat: Go away. [tightly, to Customer]
Customer pouts, sucking on her burned hand, then reluctantly sashays away.
Arat primly resets his silverware to their original locations, trying to keep fury and resentment off his Farris features.
Nick busies himself making the tea.
Nick: Relax, Arat. They didn't mean anything.
Arat is used to the people around him comporting themselves with a good deal more dignity than this.
Nick pours tea for them both.
Nick: Those cakes look good, and there's apple pie as well.
Nick still thinks of channels as being automatically on a high-apple diet.
Arat accepts the tea, and the distraction of the menu, with ill grace.
Nick debates the relative merits of cherry pie versus fudge cake.
Arat decides nothing looks good on the menu and sips his tea instead.
Arat tries to decide whether the difference in the tea is a good one or a bad one.
Arat keeps his eye on the "hoi polloi" in case any of them get too close again.
Nick sips tea as well, enjoying the variety. (yes, even a steady diet of a Narosian blend can wear, after a while, at least to the point where change is welcome.)
Waiter peeks out from behind the buffet cart, trying to catch Nick's eye without getting Arat's attention.
Nick notes the waiter's attention on him and points to the picture advertising the cherry pie.
Waiter disappears.
Arat glances suspiciously in that direction.
Nick: How about some fruit, at least?
Arat: I'm not hungry at the moment.
Nick decides not to press the issue just now, considering Arat's obvious discomfort in his surroundings, but makes a mental note to insist on a full dinner.
Nick looks to see if the Waiter is coming back with his pie yet.
Waiter: [there is a piece of pie sitting on the top of the buffet table's hood]
Nick is a bit ~~ amused ~~ at this heroic effort to offer service while obeying Arat's order to stay away.
Nick: I'll be back in half a second.
Nick: ~~ reassuring ~~
Arat nods.
Arat continues to sip his tea, arms crossed in a less than relaxed posture.
Nick goes over and nabs his pie, leaving a tip behind.
Nick returns, his mouth watering at the smell.
Nick: It's still warm.
Nick starts consuming the pie in a blatant exhibition of Gen appetite.
Arat watches, wearing an expression of inhibited desire, torment and fascination.
Nick: Would you care to try a bite?
Arat: No. [automatically]
Nick pushes the plate towards Arat.
Nick: Here.
Arat realizes he meant yes, has some more tea to cover his confusion, then discovers the pie has crossed the gap between them.
Arat: Nick....
Arat realizes there is no point in protesting, and besides that, he actually wants some.
Nick sips at his own tea, zlinning of ~~ amusement, affection, and appetite ~~
Arat can't quite seem to get used to that "wanting some" bit, which seems to be a feature of Nick's presence.
Arat picks up a fork and diffidently prods at a cherry, unable to shake the sensation that if he eats one, he'll be somehow "losing" or "giving in".
Nick seems completely oblivious to the existence of any contest to be won or lost.
Arat finally does give in, taking a cherry almost furtively.
Nick is watching the other customers, ignoring Arat's cherry consumption.
Nick has learned over the past two weeks that watching Arat eat is a sure way to make him stop.
Arat pulls the plate a bit closer and picks at the pie, eating a little of it.
Nick sits back in his chair and relaxes.
Nick pours himself a second cup of tea.
Nick refills Arat's cup without asking, fearing to distract him from eating.
Arat: Why does this place make you so comfortable?
Arat isn't blind to the difference in the Gen.
Nick looks at Arat thoughtfully.
Nick: This is the sort of neighborhood I grew up in.
Nick actually finds this sort of reasonably prosperous, working-class area more comfortable than the slums Snake preferred, but prefers either to the stiflingly formal atmosphere of the Sime Center.
Nick has perhaps not gotten a fair assessment of Sime Center atmosphere, having spent the last two weeks almost exclusively in the company of a Big Cheese with a known lack of anything resembling a sense of humor.
Arat nods thoughtfully.
Arat sips his tea, which has somehow become warm again without his knowledge.
Nick: I'd guess that you come from a different sort of background?
Nick has not been blind to the increase in Arat's tension, not all due to the onset of need.
Arat: Yes. [with feeling]
Nick's nager ~~ encourages ~~ elaboration.
Arat: My parents were not wealthy, but they had been.
Arat: They lived in the same manner, as far as they could manage.
Arat doesn't mention that they also beat the lifestyle into his head as a matter of pride.
Nick: Had been?
Arat: They lost everything in the Unity Wars.
Arat: I was born the same year the first treaty was signed.
Nick nods.
Nick: My grandmother saw Unity as an opportunity.
Nick: There was the possibility of getting a steady income from my mother, not just the one time fee that she'd have gotten from selling a Gen.
Nick: Of course, when my mother proved unsuitable for Donor training, Grandmother had to try again.
Nick's expression turns just a touch sour.
Arat studies Nick, in his usual intense manner.
Arat: Kenmore's report on your genetic makeup....
Nick: Yes.
Arat had been hoping that part was inaccurate.
Arat: I see.
Nick does indeed bear a reasonably strong resemblance to Riyyh.
Arat: Have any of your grandmother's other progeny shown as much potential as you have? [curiously]
Nick: My sister turned out to be a renSime, like Grandmother. But we didn't have the same father.
Nick: Her kids are still children.
Arat frowns.
Arat always frowns when forcibly required to think upon Riyyh ambrov Naros.
Nick is reasonably sure that the kids aren't Riyyh's.
Arat: I would like to have more information as to the potential present in other Narosians.
Arat prefers the term "other Narosians" to "other people 75% Riyyh by blood", although in point of fact the two terms might as well be interchangeable.
Arat: High quality people are so badly required.
Nick had sort of gathered that, from the treatment he's been receiving.
Arat thinks it would be worth experimenting to find if rigorous training in First Year would be enough to counter a hedonistic Narosian childhood and result in a fine, hardworking, disciplined employee.
Nick: There was one girl who traveled with me and Snake for a while--Hero, her name was.
Arat: Oh?
Arat remembers something about a young Gen named Hero in Kenmore's report, but will have to go back and reread it for the details.
Nick: She left as soon as the thaw hit, heading back for Naros.
Nick: I don't think she got the sort of training she had expected from Snake.
Arat: What was she expecting?
Arat doesn't know where Nick is going with this.
Nick grimaces.
Nick: Something that would allow her to, um, catch her father's attention.
Nick still finds it hard to admit that Riyyh is his own father, as well.
Arat follows the various twists and turns of Nick's emotions with some confusion.
Arat: She did not realize he was her father at this time?
Nick: Oh, she did.
Arat looks unsettled.
Arat: I see. [doesn't at all]
Nick notes Arat's discomfort and works to smooth his nager.
Arat: I would like to get some of the younger ones into a proper training program sometime, just to see how they work out.
Arat wants to doubly now that he has heard of this waste of what might have been another Donor of Nick's quality one day.
Nick somehow doubts that Hero would take to a Tecton training camp any more than he did.
Arat: However, relations with Naros [hesitates, then decides to leave that lie as spoken] do not permit it. Yet.
Arat zlins Nick's doubt and looks at him thoughtfully.
Nick makes a mental note that Naros is still maintaining some independence from the Tecton, in case things don't work out.
Nick also notes that Arat has stopped eating.
Nick pulls the plate back to his side of the table and starts to polish off what's left.
Arat doesn't notice.
Arat is pondering a favorite fantasy of his, the one where Riyyh is seized and thrown into service for the Tecton in some god-forsaken sinkhole where nobody has ever heard of soap or new clothing, never to be heard from again except for pathetic monthly reports more resembling cries for help and/or mercy.
Arat had been disappointed when Riyyh's seemingly legitimate (if entirely unpredicted) "pledge" to the Tecton and subsequent assignment to Bender Cove turned out to be a hoax.
Arat's expressive Farris features betray a slight, cruel smile, which disappears almost as soon as it forms.
Nick wonders what hapless employee is going to get a need-aggravated scolding this afternoon.
Nick does not, of course, consider himself a Tecton employee.
Arat: It is time we should be returning.
Nick nods reluctantly.
Nick: I suppose so.
Nick gets to his feet.
Waiter: [the bill is lying on top of the buffet's hood]
Arat rises also, smoothing back his [already perfect] braid and tugging his uniform to perfect shape.
Nick reaches for the bill, inspects it briefly, and puts some coins on it.
Nick figures treating Arat is the least he can do, since Arat is so obviously subjecting himself to this trip only because Nick wanted to get out.
Arat doesn't even think about it, simply waiting until Nick is finished and then following him from the establishment.
Nick strolls back in the general direction of the Sime Center, although by a different street.
Arat walks at his side, a little bit less tense than before, but still practicing an odd combination of hyperalertness and ignoring those around him.
Nick's attention is caught by a sign in the window of a small house.
Nick stops to inspect the house more closely.
Nick: That's not a bad place. I wonder what sort of rent they're asking?
Arat studies it critically.
Arat: It's close enough, but this neighborhood isn't safe.
Arat thinks, to say nothing of the condition of the place.
Nick chuckles.
Arat looks at him.
Nick: This neighborhood isn't bad at all--I expect almost everyone on the block has legitimate work at least part of the time.
Nick has a sudden vision of Arat being confronted by some of the neighborhoods Snake used to work in.
Nick thinks the place could be quite nice, with a little bit of fixing up.
Arat looks doubtful.
Arat: If you say so.
Arat thinks Nick requires a bit of supervision in the area of housing as well as clothing.
Nick pulls a pencil from his pocket and scribbles the landlord's address on his cast.
Nick: It's worth an inquiry, anyway. I can't live in your room forever.
Arat: You might at least look into the better areas.
Arat: Or I could arrange for you to have your own quarters.
Arat: They'd have to be in the visitor's area, but....
Nick: I appreciate the offer, but I'd really prefer quarters outside of the Sime Center.
Nick: A place I can make my own.
Arat nods.
Arat appears slightly depressed and distressed at the thought of Nick spending so much time thinking about freedom and running around at large, but at least he hasn't said anything about not working for the Tecton.
Nick gives the house one more searching look, then starts walking again.
Arat follows, worrying over his own thoughts.