Sime~Gen Roleplaying: District Controller's Office Scenario
Episode #41: Inconvenient Relatives (6/18/99)
Pylor brings Arat a cup of Tecton Standard.
Arat has been stonily silent all morning; rumor has it he and Jeniard had a screaming fight the night before, and the other channel has been conspicuously absent.
Pylor has been behaving himself for the past day or two, sort of, and is feeling vindicated when Arat sends him away less often.
Arat takes the cup of tea without saying anything.
Pylor: Want me to rub your shoulders a bit?
Arat sighs internally.
Pylor: You want to be in good shape when that lawyer fellow gets here.
Arat: I suppose you may as well.
Arat finds Pylor acting solicitous but zlinning smug even more irritating than Pylor being honestly nasty.
Arat however doesn't think he could get away with filing a complaint for "smug".
Pylor sets down his own cup of tea on a clear spot on the desk and starts working on Arat's shoulders.
Arat gives up on trying to sip his tea, rather than get it all over his front.
Pylor is at least moderately competent at shoulder rubs, whatever he lacks in support.
Arat sets it down on the desk and then simply sits, trying to concentrate on the benefits of the shoulder rub (it really is quite difficult to mess one of those up) while ignoring as best as possible the mess Pylor is making of nageric support.
Crassus, respected partner of the respected and well known firm of Adner, Balco and Crassus, signals at the door.
Pylor has at least gathered that it's his job to answer the door.
Pylor therefore does so.
Crassus walks right past Pylor as if he doesn't exist, and goes to Arat's desk.
Crassus: Controller Arat. I've brought the quarterly accounting, as you requested.
Arat: Thank you.
Crassus: If you would care to review it with me? There are also some requests made by your various dependents.
Pylor returns to his seat, very interested in the goings-on.
Arat: Of course.
Arat ignores Pylor's extremely rude attention.
Crassus opens up his tasteful briefcase made of imported leather, with the firm's name embossed in gold.
Crassus's dress matches the briefcase for business-type top of the line.
Crassus draws out a stack of bound papers.
Crassus: Would you care to view the information on your investments first?
Arat nods.
Pylor wonders just how much Arat is worth, with his family background.
Pylor has, perhaps, a limited knowledge of Arat's family's economic circumstances, post-Unity.
Arat's personal relationship with money is summed up thusly: 1) he feels he should at all times appear to be loaded, although tastefully; 2) he should never squander money, hence the tendency toward conservative investments, and 3) he generally gives his relatives (Audnes cousins, Farris children and their parents and siblings) whatever they ask for, within reason.
Arat defines 'within reason' as whatever they want that doesn't cause Crassus to feel it necessary to bring it to his personal attention.
Arat, other than that, prefers not to think about, or talk about, money at all.
Arat possibly would rather not be reminded that the main reason he is alive today is that the Tecton finds him valuable. Literally.
Crassus: There is a general increase in your portfolio of 7% over last year. The highest yields were from the button factory, and the lowest from the two farms.
Crassus: Your cousin Nirla has requested an increase in her stipend to allow her and her children to travel more--she feels it would be educational. Your cousin Alger has also requested an increase; I believe he wants to buy some better horses for his carriage.
Arat flicks a tentacle to indicate he has no problem with the increases.
Crassus passes the report to Arat.
Arat looks it over.
Crassus: Those are the highlights; you can examine the details at your leisure, and I will, of course, be glad to answer any questions you may have.
Crassus pauses to give Arat a chance to skim the document.
Arat finishes scanning it, sees nothing extremely noteworthy, and puts it in the locked desk drawer with the others.
Crassus shifts in his chair.
Crassus: ~~ discomfort at raising an awkward subject ~~
Crassus: There is one thing more.
Crassus is not quite sure how best to approach the matter.
Crassus: Your relatives have asked me to bring up a rather... awkward issue.
Arat looks at Crassus.
Crassus wishes they had the guts to tell Arat in person, but he has to earn his substantial salary somehow.
Arat zlinning Crassus' discomfort hopes it's the same awkward subject he has to bring up, since having two things this awkward in his life at the same time would surely be grounds for flinging himself in front of a train.
Crassus: They have been rather concerned over certain speculations regarding a previously unsuspected member of the family tree.
Arat: Wise Snake Farris.
Crassus: They realize that your resources are not infinite, and since the individual in question is known to have the wherewithal to be self-supporting....
Crassus gulps.
Arat looks at him a bit incredulously.
Arat: The individual in question is confined to a hospital room.
Crassus: They have asked me for some assurance that you will not be supporting her as well.
Crassus hastily holds up a tentacle.
Crassus: Rest assured that your funds are yours to do with as you please.
Arat: I am well aware of that.
Crassus: However, your other dependents are naturally concerned about their future.
Crassus thinks the whole crew of them have fine futures in the medical field--as leeches--but he doesn't get paid to offer his opinion on such matters.
Arat zlins Crassus' opinion anyway, or at least the emotions resulting from it, but does not comment on it.
Arat: [it isn't, after all, entirely out of line]
Arat: It is not necessary for them to fear for their futures.
Crassus: ~~ relief ~~
Crassus: I will tell them that you have said so.
Arat: However, if it is proven that Wise Snake Farris is indeed my daughter, I do intend to support her, and any remaining relatives of hers, to the best of my ability.
Crassus nods.
Arat intends to start by suing Jeniard, Mepig, and every other channel who was with him on the train the night he was - so he is told - forced into doing the deed.
Crassus: If that occurs, the firm of Adner, Balco and Crassus is ready to help facilitate any arrangements you might wish to make.
Arat nods.
Crassus: Is there any way in which I might serve you today?
Arat: Yes.
Crassus waits attentively for Arat to explain.
Arat withdraws a slim folder from his protected file and offers it to Crassus.
Crassus takes the folder and skims it.
Arat: This what I've been able to discover on my own regarding the circumstances of Snake Farris' conception.
Arat: Please arrange for a formal investigation.
Crassus skims the material intently.
Arat: If your findings corroborate mine, I will require your services in the pursuit of legal actions against those involved.
Crassus: There is not much to go on here, particularly after so many years.
Arat's dark eyes spark anger.
Arat: There were many witnesses, all of whom still live.
Arat: I do not have time to contact them all myself.
Arat: Will you be useless to me, must I interview them all myself?
Crassus: We will, of course, pursue the matter as far as we can.
Arat is maybe a little distraught over this issue, and his emotional self-control not what it is when he's at his best.
Arat: As far as you can?
Crassus: There are experts in the field who can be relied upon to find any witnesses who have survived. Perhaps they will recall enough to settle the matter.
Arat's eyes narrow.
Crassus: The legal angle may be more difficult; much depends on the quality of the witnesses.
Arat slowly reaches his hand out for the folder again.
Crassus hates to disappoint a valued client, but he does not believe in providing false hope on legal matters.
Arat: Give it to me.
Crassus passes the folder back.
Arat puts it back in his drawer.
Arat: Do not concern yourself about it.
Crassus nods ~ apologetically ~
Arat has decided there is more than a bit of conflict of interest here; why else would Crassus start digging in his heels?
Arat will find a high powered old money lawyer in Capitol, one of the type who are too expensive for anybody to hire for anything but lawsuits.
Crassus: Is there anything else I can assist you with?
Arat: No. But do tell my relatives their futures remain intact.
Crassus: I will, and may I offer thanks in return on their behalf?
Crassus closes his briefcase neatly.
Arat waves a hand half-heartedly, either accepting or passing off the thanks.
Arat sometimes views Crassus as a welcome shield against the tedium of dealing with his relatives and dealing with his money, but other times Crassus seems like a huge leech, with the many smaller leeches attached behind.
Crassus decides to leave quickly, before Arat comes up with any more difficulties.
Pylor tries to stay inconspicuous, since Arat seems to be in a bad mood.
Pylor didn't like having Jeniard around all the time, but he likes the new, Jeniard-free Arat even less.
Arat tries to remember what he was doing before Crassus came in.
Arat wonders if he could foist some of his relatives off on Riyyh ambrov Naros, who'd hardly notice a few more.
Prunida comes storming down the hall, directly for Arat's office.
Prunida: ~~ renSime rage ~~
Arat looks up.
Arat: Pylor, stop her. [indicates the door.]
Prunida's voice is a largely unintelligible snarl in which words like "ungrateful" and "disloyal" play a large part.
Pylor gets up.
Pylor: Stop who?
Arat is not interested in being physically attacked again so soon after the last time.
Pylor starts for the door.
Arat: You idiot, the woman about to come through that door.
Prunida slams the door open.
Arat in fact has totally gone off being physically attacked, if in fact he ever enjoyed it, which he is pretty sure he didn't.
Prunida: You tell that ungrateful lorsh that I want my money!
Pylor: Madam, please!
Pylor makes an effort to ~~ calm ~~ Prunida.
Arat tries not to zlin what escapes from Pylor's shielding attempts.
Arat also, as a precaution, stands, since one's neck is so much more easily reached in a sitting position.
Pylor is, unfortunately, still rather low field, and under the illusion that Prunida is a normal renSime.
Prunida shoves Pylor aside absently, too caught up in her tantrum to be bothered by what she zlins.
Prunida: That no-good grandson of mine is trying to cheat me out of my due and I won't have it!!!
Arat regards Prunida much as one would regard a loud, screaming ape which is throwing dung at the glass between it and oneself.
Pylor yells as he goes flying, with somewhat less grace than the average ape-flung dung ball.
Arat: Have a care! [exclaims indignantly, as his Donor is shoved aside]
Arat: Please, behave in a civilized fashion.
Prunida: You said Nick would get a fat salary! He's a good Donor, and I want my due!
Arat: Sit down. [irritated]
Prunida has never been very good at the parts of civilization not connected to interesting forms of recreation.
Prunida puts both hands on Arat's desk and leans towards him.
Prunida: I haven't seen a penny since I gave you Nick!
Arat: Nick did not authorize the release of his funds to you.
Arat, in response to her leaning forward, has drawn himself up as tall and arrogant as possible, which is his standard fear reaction.
Pylor catches his breath, then starts to inch closer to Arat, trying to offer what support he can without attracting Prunida's attention.
Pylor: ~~ support/aches/support ~~
Pylor would be inching for the door to get a security team, but Prunida is between him and it.
Prunida: Didn't authorize?
Prunida: What is there to authorize? I raised the boy; he'll do what he's told, if he knows what's good for him.
Arat takes great pains to respond in a quiet, level voice, instead of duplicating her ear splitting scream.
Arat: It is necessary to get his permission to release his funds to you. He is an adult and his compensation for work is legally his.
Arat: Nick specifically refused the transfer.
Prunida: Refused??!!!
Arat nods shortly.
Arat is not finding this conversation very pleasant.
Prunida: Who does the boy think he is, stealing from his own grandmother?
Prunida: Let me talk to him. I'll set him straight, soon enough.
Arat: Nick is not here.
Prunida: He's run off again?
Arat: He has been reassigned.
Prunida: Reassigned where?? If he thinks he can run out on me again....
Prunida is not quite as murderous-looking as Snake, but she does pretty well, for a relative amateur.
Arat: Perhaps you should have a seat, and we can discuss this in more detail.
Prunida glares at Arat, but finally takes a seat.
Prunida: ~~ grudging ~~
Arat has lost much of his initial fear as it becomes clear Prunida does not intend to leap at him, and it is nearly impossible for a civilian renSime to intimidate Arat under any other circumstances.
Arat sits also.
Arat: Pylor. [indicates tea area]
Arat: Nick's reassignment has nothing to do with you. He was reassigned to serve another channel because he'd been here for two of my transfers already. It is standard Tecton procedure.
Arat: He will return here again in two months.
Pylor slinks off to the tea table, and starts brewing an extra-strong trin for Prunida, in hopes that it will act as a tranquilizer.
Prunida: Two months!
Arat: Had you and he formally agreed that he would transfer his wages to you?
Prunida: He understood what's expected of him from earliest childhood.
Prunida: That's why I bred him, after all.
Prunida: What use is a great hulking Gen like that, otherwise?
Arat: So you feel he has reneged on this agreement.
Pylor offers Prunida her tea, from the safety of Arat's side of the desk.
Prunida snatches the tea roughly from Pylor's grasp with two tentacles, splashing it on Pylor's hand.
Arat frowns.
Prunida: He has no right to cheat me, particularly now that he's come to his senses and started making something of himself.
Arat: I'm afraid the law states that money made by his work for the Tecton is his own, unless he willingly releases it.
Pylor quickly damps the ~pain~ from the boiling water, and goes to the sink to cool his hand.
Arat: If you wish to gain access to the money, you have no choice but to re-negotiate the agreement with Nick.
Prunida: Tell me where he is, so I can talk to him. He'll be willing enough, by the time I'm done.
Pylor is, for once, offering Arat full support without a hint of dislike, contempt, or smugness.
Pylor just hopes that Arat can convince this horror to go away before she remembers that he is there.
Arat accepts the support.
Prunida: And after I rescued him from that stingy daughter of a trollop he was wasting himself on!
Prunida is speaking figuratively; her knowledge of Snake does not extend to the latest rumors of her parentage.
Arat's eyes narrow.
Prunida: Where is he?
Arat considers carefully.
Arat turns to Pylor.
Arat: Where did they send Nick?
Pylor's eyes widen, since he knows that Arat knows exactly where Nick is.
Pylor: Err.... Wasn't it back East someplace?
Arat: Please go look it up for me, and come back as soon as you know.
Arat hopes that nasty Pylor will come up with something suitably inconvenient for Prunida.
Pylor gathers that Arat does not mean he should consult Nick's file, which is in the locked drawer of Arat's desk.
Pylor: They're reorganizing some of the files today. Should I ask Linbe to help, so we can get a prompt answer for the lady?
Pylor is not, of course, offering to involve the Security Chief in a search for paperwork.
Arat sighs.
Pylor is inching towards the door as he speaks, hoping that Prunida will stay distracted.
Arat: Just do as I say.
Pylor scats while the going is good.
Prunida sips the tea, loudly.
Arat realizes he is not sure how to make small talk with a woman who obsesses on the dollar value of her own chromosomes.
Arat clears his throat.
Prunida: What have you been teaching Nick, that he would turn against his own grandmother?
Prunida: If he had any idea how much effort I went to, to get him born.
Arat: Nick was very explicit about this particular matter, shortly after he arrived. It was none of my doing.
Prunida: It's the influence of that ill-begotten rogue of his.
Prunida: She turned him against me.
Arat's upper lip twitches but he manages to avoid snarling.
Arat: [then again with the amazing expressiveness of the Farris features, he hardly had to!]
Arat: I am sorry you feel that way.
Arat: Snake Farris is herself under retraining as we speak.
Prunida: He's not going to get rid of me that easily!
Prunida snorts.
Arat wishes Prunida had come before Crassus; it would have been so much easier to feel benevolent toward his various lee... relatives then.
Prunida: Retraining? You can't think you can turn Snake into a respectable Tecton channel, do you?
Prunida: ~~ disbelief ~~
Arat on second thought realizes it's probably just as well she didn't, because it might have had a different result entirely.
Arat: We have no choice but to try.
Prunida: Well, keep your tentacles on your wallet while you do, or you may find her taking an unexpected bite out of your assets.
Goon barges into Arat's office, waving a club.
Goon had been led to believe that either an insane gorilla or a killer renSime in hard need was demolishing the Controller's office.
Prunida squawks at the interruption, and jumps to her feet.
Prunida looks closer. And closer.
Prunida: ~~ LUST ~~
Prunida has always found weapons....stimulating.
Goon: Right - that's the one.
Goon starts to clonk Prunida over the head with the bat, then pauses at her, well, all too understandable reaction to his buffness.
Goon: Hey, baby.
Prunida: What's your name?
Arat glares at them both, irritated by Pylor's idiocy.
Prunida reaches out a tentacle to examine the closeness of his shave.
Prunida: What do you say we go find a place to get... better acquainted?
Goon takes the opportunity to take Prunida's elbow and guide her, much more gently than he'd originally intended, out of Arat's office.
Prunida looks over her shoulder.
Prunida: I'll be back for that information later.
Arat: I'm surrounded by incompetents.
Arat: [to himself]
Arat decides to take the rest of the day off and spend it trying to land a competent trial lawyer.
Arat removes the pertinent folder from safe storage and leaves to go change into civilian clothing.
Pylor pauses outside the office door, listening for sounds of carnage.
Pylor hadn't realized just what sort of home life Nick was subjected to, and finds himself much more sympathetic to the rogue than he had ever suspected he could be.
Pylor hears nothing, and cautiously opens the door.
Pylor's eyes gradually widen.
Pylor: The Controller's missing!
see note 1
Arat walks down a public sidewalk, hardly recognizable in dark, conservative civilian attire.
Arat has divested himself of the folder, and of the chore of finding a suitable lawyer.
Arat is somewhat less uncomfortable on the streets than he had been before Nick's arrival, but he still finds it a bit unpleasant.
Alvin is heading down the street with all the determination that a three-year-old can muster.
Arat has never been able to put a tentacle on exactly what it is that he dislikes about it. Perhaps it is all the other human beings there, none of them requiring a channel's services, none of them watching where they are going.
Alvin has recently learned how to run as well as walk, and has been happily practicing the two skills.
Arat notices a small child walking down the street completely alone.
Alvin has a few skills yet to develop, like staying in his own yard, and not running into the street, and obeying his mother.
Arat looks around to see where the parent might be.
Alvin encounters a pothole, and finds his new skills insufficient to the task.
Alvin stumbles, trips, and lands on his knees.
Arat looks around to see if anybody else has noticed the child so he can gracefully ignore it and keep walking.
Alvin lets out a roar of outraged pain, fear, and frustration.
Arat sighs.
Alvin frequently does this when tired, and he has been actively exploring for a while.
Arat looks around one more time to make very sure there is nobody who could possible deal with this besides himself.
Alvin: Mooooommmmiiiieeee!!!!!
Arat finds that, as he'd feared, this is definitely the case.
Alvin scrubs angrily at the big, fat tears flowing down his cheeks.
Arat walks reluctantly over to the child.
Arat crouches down to get a better zlin if there is any actual injury.
Alvin has a skinned knee and torn pants; also a dirty diaper.
Alvin gasps for a big breath, the better to increase the volume of his wailing.
Arat: Hello. [in the gap]
Alvin looks up, sees Arat, and the wail never quite makes it out.
Alvin: Are you strange?
Arat: Are you lost?
Alvin: No, I'm Alvin.
Arat: Oh, I see.
Alvin chews on a thumb.
Arat: Where is your mother?
Arat looks up and down the street, in vain.
Alvin looks around, having found that being asked where something is, usually means the adult asking the question knows its location.
Alvin: I want my mommie!
Alvin's upper lip trembles at the abandonment, threatening to renew the wailing.
Arat: I will take you to the police station. They will know where your mother is.
Alvin frowns.
Arat: She might even be waiting there for you.
Alvin: You aren't a p'liceman. They wear blue.
Arat: No, I'm not a policeman, I'm a channel.
Alvin looks at Arat closely.
Alvin: No, channels wear funny clothes too, like p'licemen.
Alvin: My mommy showed me.
Arat: I can leave you here all by yourself, if that is what you prefer.
Arat is sick of dealing with stubborn ignorance.
Arat has been dealing with it all day, and talking to an intelligent lawyer was refreshing, but not a panacea.
Alvin's eyes widen with fear.
Alvin: Noooooo!
Arat stops.
Alvin: Want Mommie!
Arat: Well, how do you propose to find her?
Arat: Are you going to let me help, or are you going to find her yourself?
Alvin: I wanna go home!
Arat thinks this kid is not too bright, even for a three year old.
Alvin lifts his arms in a demand to be carried.
Arat picks up Alvin carefully.
Arat: [because he is injured and, more to the point, because he is filthy.]
Alvin clings moistly.
Alvin puts his fist in his mouth and starts chewing.
Arat starts walking in the direction he was going in, which was also the direction Alvin had been coming from.
Arat hopes to accidentally encounter the mother before toting the child all the way to the police station.
Alvin settles more or less contentedly.
Arat does actually know where the police stations are in town, mainly because he has to deal with them in the course of business from time to time.
Arat wishes Alvin weren't so... fragrant.
Alvin takes his hand out of his mouth and pats Arat's face.
Arat winces as hot stickiness cools on his cheek.
Arat had been treated as an adult (when he wasn't set aside and forgotten) for all of his childhood, and though he doesn't condone that way of raising children, he does prefer for others to handle it.
Arat therefore hasn't been in this situation too often.
Alvin is rapidly dozing off after the excitement of his adventure.
Arat continues to walk along, scanning both sides of the street, and keeping an ear out for somebody wailing the name "Alvin".
Alvin wriggles a bit, just to get really comfortable, and abruptly his head plops onto Arat's shoulder.
Arat thinks, rather self-pityingly, that this hasn't been his week at all.
Notes:
1) Some hours pass between these two scenes. [return]