Sime~Gen Roleplaying: District Controller's Office Scenario
Episode #66: Angel in Black and Blue (9/1/99)
Nick finishes his long, slow back rub and sits back on Snake's cot.
Nick: Feeling any better now?
Nick himself is ~~ relaxed and comfortably idle ~~
Wise Snake: Ummh.
Wise Snake has never been one to be rendered coherent by a good back rub.
Nick runs a finger lightly down a handling tentacle.
Nick: Snake, if you could have any kind of work you wanted, what would you choose?
Wise Snake ponders the question, not very seriously.
Wise Snake of course has never been able to consider anything but channeling work seriously, for obvious health reasons.
Wise Snake: I think I'd like to be a hit man.
Wise Snake: [after some moments]
Nick raises an eyebrow in mild surprise.
Nick: A hit man?
Wise Snake: Yeah, and if somebody ticked me off, I could just let a few people know that I was in the money to knock them off, you know?
Nick nods thoughtfully.
Wise Snake: Or else maybe it could be just random, this or that person comes along with a little cash, or maybe a good sob story....
Wise Snake: I mean, think about it. There'd be a lot of free time in between gigs.
Wise Snake: And you wouldn't have to pay for expensive advertising or office space or anything.
Nick: True. What would you do with all that spare time?
Wise Snake thinks about it.
Wise Snake: Whatever I felt like.
Wise Snake: Nobody would try to stop me.
Nick: Would you hang out in tea shops? Or maybe those taverns the sailors use?
Wise Snake: Sometimes, if I wanted to.
Wise Snake rolls over on her back, and looks up at the ceiling.
Wise Snake: I would go all different places.
Nick: Travel the world?
Wise Snake: No, not like that.
Wise Snake: But all different places inside a town.
Wise Snake: A big town.
Nick: To make it your territory? Where you know where the power is, and who will do what?
Wise Snake looks undecided.
Wise Snake: Na. [finally]
Wise Snake: I wouldn't care about that. They'd have to care, but I wouldn't have to.
Wise Snake: I'd be outside of it.
Nick: You'd work for all sides?
Wise Snake: I guess so.
Wise Snake is starting to find this game a little tiresome.
Wise Snake: Who cares?
Nick: It is kind of hard to be a hit man and a channel, too. Your nager is too easily identified.
Wise Snake: I thought you meant if I didn't have to be a channel.
Nick: Well, it's kind of hard for me to imagine you as anything but a channel. What sort of channeling work would you grab, if you had the pick of the District?
Wise Snake snorts.
Wise Snake: I'd be out of here so fast, your head would spin.
Nick: The walls can't confine your imagination. How would you want to work, as a channel?
Wise Snake: Shen, Nick, who cares?
Wise Snake pushes herself up.
Wise Snake: How did your visit go? Is that what you're mooning about?
Nick makes a face.
Nick: Riyyh may be my father, and I admit that I like Narosian teas, but I wouldn't want to live at Naros.
Wise Snake: Is that what he asked you to do?
Wise Snake: ~~ demanding ~~
Nick: No, he's given up on that, I think. At least for the present.
Wise Snake looks as if she'd like to practice her fantasy employment upon Nick's father, to begin with.
Wise Snake: Good.
Wise Snake: But that's not who I was talking about.
Nick: Oh?
Wise Snake: Every time you get back from talking to my father, you act funny for hours.
Wise Snake: Even your nager is different.
Wise Snake shudders.
Wise Snake: It's like you remake yourself.
Nick reaches for the tentacle he was stroking earlier and idly wraps it around his finger.
Nick: ~~ comfort ~~
Wise Snake: I suppose I ought to be grateful you don't think of Riyyh that way as well.
Wise Snake: Or that Deah.
Wise Snake is, in fact, jealous.
Wise Snake has not exactly been innocent of this emotion in the past, particularly where Nick is concerned, but this has been the first time there was anything really serious to worry about in terms of permanently losing Nick.
Nick: I'm worried about Arat. He was in bad shape when I got back from New Othwol.
Wise Snake: It's that Pylor. An idiot.
Nick can only ~~ agree ~~
Nick: Beni hasn't been able to repair the damage as much as he should have.
Nick: Although he is trying.
Wise Snake: Arat doesn't help by being a self-destruction-fetishist with a martyr complex.
Nick chuckles at the description.
Nick: Too true.
Wise Snake: If he'd climb out of his delusions and get a grip on his real problem, there wouldn't be a problem.
Wise Snake doesn't have much respect for Arat, a channel who in Snake's eyes has pretty much had it all for years.
Wise Snake: Some people just live to be unhappy, and to spread it around to as many other people as possible.
Wise Snake: Your father made you a sucker for that. [adds]
Nick smiles in a lopsided fashion.
Wise Snake: Arat pushes your buttons, admit it.
Nick: Probably. Why else would I have ended up with a channel like you?
Wise Snake snorts.
Nick does not appear unhappy at the prospect.
Wise Snake: You got lucky, that's why.
Wise Snake: Don't you forget it, I chose you.
Wise Snake conveniently forgets she was desperate at the time.
Nick: Yes, but I also chose you. And I don't regret my choice.
Wise Snake shoots him a cynical look, but is secretly pleased by his words.
Pylor goes to Arat's hated office to make his latest no-progress report.
Pylor is at least not working there full time, which he considers an improvement.
Pylor signals at the door.
Arat: Enter!
Arat straightens.
Pylor obeys.
Pylor: You wanted to see me, Controller?
Arat does his best to keep his expression unrevealing of anything incriminating and/or inflammatory, which results in a distant and distracted effect.
Arat: Yes. Sit down, Sosu Pylor.
Pylor sits, with the peculiarly Gen lack of grace.
Arat picks up Pylor's and Brendalee's folders and flips through them briefly.
Arat: I am not sure how to handle this, Pylor. I had thought you'd have made more progress with Brendalee by now. Can you tell me what the main problem seems to be?
Pylor: I don't think she wants to be a First. Not really.
Arat actually knows exactly what he'd like to do -- bust Pylor down to a less important assignment -- but at this point Pylor's career wouldn't stand up to such a move and Arat isn't prepared to trash the guy's life in order to teach him a lesson.
Arat: [almost, but not quite]
Arat looks at Pylor seriously.
Arat: Explain.
Pylor does his best to set aside his dislike of Arat and what he stands for, and do his best to present a difficult situation to a Controller for advice.
Pylor: Oh, she'd like the greater authority and all that. But I don't think she's ready to see herself as a First.
Pylor struggles to articulate a half-formed impression, knowing that his career as well as his patient's depends on it.
Pylor: It's as if she's spent so much time forcing herself to be proud of what she is, that she can't make herself become something else.
Pylor waves a hand vaguely, in hopes that that will improve his coherence.
Pylor's gesture mostly underlies his ~~ concern ~~
Arat studies Pylor keenly, as if it is Pylor rather than his channel who requires diagnosis.
Arat: [actually it is, in Arat's book, but Pylor doesn't know that]
Arat: What is she proud of?
Pylor ponders the best way to phrase it.
Pylor: I suspect that she got a lot of grief over her background during training, from some of her teachers as well as her fellow students.
Pylor: And in response, she decided that she would fling her background back in their faces and make them accept her on her terms, backcountry ways and all.
Pylor: It was a brave thing to do, actually.
Arat: So you believe this problem developed only since she began training as a channel?
Pylor: From what she has told me of her childhood, she was happy enough on her parent's farm. At least she knew the rules, there, and nobody made her feel inferior.
Arat nods.
Arat has little to compare to Brendalee's situation in his own life; in fact, it was more the opposite. The Tecton gave him precious context and security after a childhood of bewildering contradictions.
Arat considers the problem from that angle for a moment.
Arat frowns to himself.
Arat: She feels competent as a Second, or she doesn't want to admit she's ever seen herself as less than she wished to be?
Arat's other difficulty is that he has never been anything but a workaholic, and that included being a learnaholic.
Arat therefore always sees the workaholic or learnaholic in a person, no matter how small a part of them it might be, struggling to get out.
Pylor frowns, trying to articulate.
Pylor: It's as if she's made herself believe that Seconds are morally superior to Firsts, and so on some level, she feels that Qualifying First will make her into something she despises.
Pylor waves his hand some more.
Pylor: It's kind of hard to describe.
Pylor: Anyway, until she can see Firsts as tough, she won't let herself Qualify.
Pylor is struck with an idea.
Pylor: ~~ inspiration ~~
Pylor: Perhaps that's the solution.
Arat gives Pylor an unreadable look.
Arat's raised eyebrow invites elaboration.
Pylor: We could follow the advice of her favorite stories about repairing fences, and use the materials at hand.
Pylor is actually excited enough at the idea to lean forward, even though that means getting closer to Arat.
Pylor: We have at least two Firsts here who have lived even rougher than Brendalee did on her parents' farm.
Pylor: With them as an example, it should be possible to convince Brendalee that she can be tough and a First.
Arat: I am not convinced that such a parallel would be enough to get the attention of a person with that particular problem. [dryly]
Pylor's collegial enthusiasm deflates at having his one useful idea so summarily dismissed.
Pylor thinks he should have remembered whom he was talking to.
Arat: I placed you with her because I thought she would illustrate your own problem to you. It didn't make any impression upon you at all.
Arat: Neither did you current predicament make any impression upon her, at least not so far as I can tell.
Arat: A certain refusal to see the world, and other people, for what they are explains both the problem and the failure of the proposed solution.
Arat looks disappointed both in them and in himself for not having succeeded with the assignment.
Pylor is reminded how very much he hates Farris arrogance, and the cold, humorless way they go about playing with other peoples' lives. And the Audnes version is worse than the Zeor one.
Pylor: If you have a better solution to Brendalee, by all means, share it with me.
Pylor wonders why Arat bothered to ask for his assessment at all, since he apparently had no intention of giving it any serious consideration.
Pylor is furious at himself for letting himself think of Arat as a colleague, even for a moment.
Arat gathers the folders together fastidiously on his desk, then studies Pylor.
Arat: Your idea may work.
Arat: However, she is young and ambitious enough to work through her problem eventually in any case.
Arat: I am more concerned about your situation.
Arat: I had hoped that working with Brendalee would help you become more aware of the way you have been hindering your own success.
Arat: If you introduce Brendalee to these other Firsts, and she is impressed enough by their stories of difficult childhoods to want to emulate them, where does that leave you? What will you learn from it?
Arat appears to be genuinely looking for an answer from Pylor.
Pylor is not going to fall for the "I really want your opinion" bit twice in one conversation.
Pylor: If it works, I'll have a way to handle the problem if I run across it again.
Arat's anger shows in his expressive lips, and the spark in his dark eyes.
Arat's nager is pristine, of course, as if there were anybody besides himself there to pick up on it.
Arat: Will you suicide in your career, in order to avoid the topic of your prejudice?
Pylor: What prejudice?
Pylor glares back.
Arat: You've hardly made a secret of it.
Arat: You despise me and everything I am. You despise all Audnes, and all like us.
Arat: And all Farrises, and those who serve them.
Arat: It hurts you more than it hurts us, although I can't say I've enjoyed being on the receiving end of it.
Arat actually looks distinctly upset.
Arat: It was holding you back before, and now your career is in peril because of it.
Pylor: Oh, so that's it? Anyone who doesn't fall down at your feet and worship you and your family is by definition a bigot?
Pylor is not exactly calm himself.
Arat: Anyone who despises a certain class of person, of any kind or any part of society, is by definition a bigot. [tightly]
Arat: And a person who acts upon such bigotry is worse.
Pylor: And where does that leave you? When you were a child, you wouldn't soil your Audnes hands playing with your lowly classmates, and as far as I can see, you haven't changed your opinions a bit.
Pylor: Your still as sanctimoniously convinced of your own superiority as you ever were.
Pylor wonders why the sight of Arat always brings out the worst in him.
Arat: I am your Controller. [furious] I am technically your superior in Tecton matters, and in matters of your career and you assignments.
Arat tries to control his heart rate, and his temper.
Arat: What happened when I was a child was not entirely within my control. [not quite as loudly] And it is hardly applicable to today.
Arat does not actually remember ever wanting to play with other children, although he does remember his parents exercising a good deal of control to make sure any such desires would be throttled or at least blocked from action.
Arat: Nor, I imagine, is your childhood behavior applicable to your behavior today.
Arat ignores the obvious opening left by that last sentence.
Arat in fact barely remembers Pylor as a child, having only noticed him once or twice.
Pylor: You have to imagine, because you never saw me or any of your other classmates as people.
Pylor: We weren't worthy to even talk to you, because you were an Audnes.
Pylor: If I don't like your family, Arat, it's because you taught me to hate it.
Arat is feeling defensive as well as angry, because he cannot counter any accusations about his childhood without revealing more about his family life than he is prepared to reveal.
Arat will never be free of the Audnes stigma, even now when he is little more than a supplier of ready money to the vestiges of that family, without even bearing its name.
Arat: And so you punish me for what I was born to, is that it?
Arat: Who, then, is the better of us, when I am struggling to keep you from burying your career out of spite?
Arat: I did not have to ask to keep you here, after our transfer. Anybody would have understood, if I let you continue on your way.
Pylor has to wonder if Arat is, indeed, trying to save Pylor's career out of spite.
Pylor: I've never understood why you didn't.
Arat barely understands it himself, and it shows in his expression.
Arat: I... felt partially responsible.
Pylor raises an interrogative eyebrow.
Arat: I should have done something about this a long time ago. Years ago, the first time we were assigned.
Arat: I was too proud to report your behavior, not the first time, not the second.
Arat: It could have been stopped before it became damaging. To... either of us.
Arat is basically a glutton for punishment, there's no way around it.
Pylor gives a humorless laugh.
Pylor: Well, you don't have to worry. As long as you can dangle Nick in front of their faces, the higher-ups won't hold you responsible for anything that happens to me.
Arat's eyes narrow.
Arat: Their opinions are not at issue.
Arat had felt the sting nonetheless.
Arat: Your attitude, and your failure, are my responsibility regardless of what they think.
Arat: I was tempted to forget it after that abortive transfer, but knowing nobody else cares what happens to you made me change my mind.
Arat may be using a more precise definition of "nobody else" than just anybody would use, of course.
Pylor flinches at this reminder of how little support he has at the moment, among the Powers That Be.
Pylor thinks Arat is never more patronizing than when declaring himself a patron.
Pylor: How noble of you. [muttered under his breath]
Pylor isn't quite suicidal enough to shout it, although it is a near thing.
Arat: I think might be better if Brendalee is not exposed to you any longer. [after a long silence]
Arat: What do you think?
Pylor thinks, with some bitterness, that Arat is determined not to let him have a success, and hopes that Brendalee's next Donor will be allowed to actually carry through on any therapeutic ideas he or she may have.
Pylor: You're the Controller. What I think makes no difference, as you've demonstrated on many occasions.
Arat's lips tighten.
Arat: Will it be easier for you if I let the Morale Corps send you away, then?
Arat: Is it truly so impossible for you to believe I have any personal stake or interest in your success or failure?
Pylor: How can I possibly believe you want me to succeed, when you overrule and discard every recommendation you've ever asked from me?
Arat: I ask you not for instructions, but to gauge the direction your mind is working in.
Arat: Just because I do not interpret your words literally doesn't mean I'm ignoring them.
Arat may as well be saying his mind is operating on a level light-years beyond Pylor's.
Arat: And I have not said you cannot take the direction you wish with Brendalee, so long as you can demonstrate that you will gain some worthwhile benefit from the exercise.
Arat: Nor have I promised to take her from you, if you feel that you can help her without poisoning her convictions.
Arat: But if there is any chance, any chance at all, that she will learn to further her prejudices, learn by example to hate forever those she feels are her betters, then it is not in her interests to leave you two together.
Arat: Can you tell me that will not happen?
Pylor wishes that Arat would just come out and announce his decision (no doubt made long before Pylor entered the room), and not play these endless mind games to make it all Pylor's fault.
Arat zlins, and stares at, Pylor intensely.
Pylor: I think I can convince Brendalee that there's more than one kind of toughness, and that she is wrong to assume that she can't be tough and a First. She'll still have to learn to deal with people different from those she grew up with, and that won't be easy for her.
Pylor: But she should be able to get past her problem long enough to Qualify, and in a more open frame of mind than she has now.
Pylor shrugs and stops, since he's sure that Arat's mind has long since been made up.
Arat: And as for you?
Pylor: If it works, I'll have a success to convince the higher-ups that I'm not completely worthless.
Pylor figures that it's a lost cause, trying to convince Arat he's worth anything.
Pylor: Shen knows, I could use one.
Pylor has not had a success in so many months that he's almost forgotten what it's like.
Arat looks at Pylor with a different expression, one of veiled contempt.
Arat: If you insist upon failing in any case where you are not allowed to do everything exactly as you wish and in accordance with your prejudices, then I will not be able to help you.
Arat: I will tell the Morale Corps so at our next meeting.
Arat doesn't specify if said meeting would be one regarding Pylor, or one scheduled for discussion of Arat.
Arat is not exactly free of Morale Department scrutiny even at the best of times.
Pylor takes this to mean that Arat has decided to shoot down what's left of his career.
Arat: In the meantime, do as you will with Hajene Brendalee.
Arat: So long as the situation doesn't worsen, I will not interfere.
Pylor wonders how long it will take Arat to decide the situation has "worsened", and thus justify removing Pylor from the case.
Arat: You are dismissed.
Pylor nods tightly, not trusting himself to speak.
Arat discovers that he can't wait to be quit of Pylor forever.
Pylor gets up and stalks stiffly from the room.
Arat knows that if the Morale Corps sends Pylor to some tiny town on the edge of nowhere, he'll probably never be back.
Arat hears the door close and stares down at his desk, pondering the fresh new failure, self-loathing and frustration he has to incorporate into his permanent collection.
see note 1
Alea carries a large bag in through the door.
Alea, dropping it down, glances around at her surroundings.
Alea: ~~ calm soothing controlled nager~~
Arat is frozen in astonishment.
Alea sees the channel and bows her head formerly.
Alea: Zeor offers greetings, Hajene.
Arat hasn't zlinned a Zeor Donor in years, not for lack of wanting to, and certainly wasn't expecting one to walk in just now, particularly without signaling.
Alea is wearing black and blue.
Arat manages a nod.
Alea ~~ apologetically signals hello ~~~
Arat: Sosu...?
Alea: Yes.
Arat: Farris. [says unnecessarily]
Alea bends over and pulls some papers out of her carpet bag.
Alea nods.
Alea: As you zlin, Hajene.
Alea: Alea Farris ambrov Zeor.
Alea carefully holds out the folder of papers.
Arat isn't quite recovered from the disastrous meeting with Pylor yet, and needless to say hadn't heard anything about a visit from Alea Farris ambrov Zeor.
Alea: Assigned to you for an undetermined amount of time.
Arat reaches for the papers.
Arat: Assigned...?
Arat usually isn't quite this dopey.
Arat scans the papers in amazement.
Alea: To you.
Alea's papers state some recent retraining and the move after a loss of family members.
Alea is basically starting over somewhere fresh, though it's not quite stated why.
Arat looks up at her with an uncharacteristic expression of open disbelief.
Alea: It'll be nice to be around Farrises, Hajene.
Arat: You are... welcome, of course.
Alea smiles.
Arat: I apologize, this is the first I've heard of it.
Arat: Apparently the paperwork was held up.
Alea ~~ mild relief reflected in her nager ~~
Alea: Not surprising. Flooding up North, from where I came.
Arat appears to be panicking, to anybody experienced in reading the faces of Farrises who try to hide their expressions.
Alea steps forward, her nager still carefully controlled.
Alea: Is there... perhaps... anything I can... um....
Arat: Has Beni been reassigned, then? [helplessly]
Alea ~~ offer of support ~~
Arat's nager is already yearning toward her support.
Alea: Beni?
Alea has no idea who this is and shrugs helplessly.
Alea: Should you sit down, Hajene?
Arat promptly sits down.
Alea is worried by the look of near panic on the Farris's face and wonders if perhaps she smells or something.
Alea: On the furniture would be better, Hajene.
Arat's system, which has been in rough shape following the 2 months with Pylor, despite Beni's best efforts, is about to go into shock with this sort of teasing.
Alea: Where is your Companion, Hajene?
Alea is growing more concerned by the moment.
Arat picks himself up and uses the chair instead.
Arat: Your assistance would be... most appreciated.
Arat is doing the Arat equivalent of begging for help.
Arat at this point couldn't care less where Beni is, having mostly forgotten Beni exists.
Alea is so very glad to have the opportunity that she opens herself up to the Farris, her golden glowing field dancing lightly, shifting, flowing ebbing as it dances over Arat to calm his frayed nerves.
Alea sits down on the arm of the chair next to him and lays a hand on his shoulder.
Alea: I seem to have come at a bad time.
Alea (or good, she thinks.)
Arat: No....
Arat's hand finds, and clutches her arm.
Arat: I don't know whose decision this was, or why it was made, but I am glad you are here.
Alea rests a hand over his tentacles, stroking, but not enticing ~~ calm ~~
Alea: Oh.
Alea thinks now that surprised her, though she doesn't say so and works to keep it out of her nager.
Alea: And you are...?
Alea: If I may be as so bold to ask your name, Hajene?
Alea knows some Controllers and such don't bother with names and isn't sure if this person is like that.
Alea carefully uses her field to mesh with his, blending into his beautifully, becoming one with him.
Arat: Arat. District Controller Arat Farris.
Alea: The Arat....
Alea: I... um....
Alea: ... have heard of you. You run a tight ship.
Alea: I know your... daughter.
Alea also knows his application to Zeor was rejected and wonders if he's noticed her Zeor ring--or her offering him greetings when she walked in.
Arat: I thought you'd come for her. Most Zeor come here for her.
Arat in fact had not had much luck in keeping them away, at least when Snake was first captured.
Alea: Oh?
Alea: No. I'm not here for her.
Alea: I'm under your command now, it looks like. So, I suppose you can do with me what you will.
Alea smiles ~~ encouragement to rest on her field and not worry about losing her ~~
Jeniard walks into Arat's office without signaling, completely unaware that Arat is not alone.
Jeniard is a nondescript, uniformed First Order channel.
Jeniard stops in surprise.
Alea glances around, keeping her field steady as she notes the new person
Jeniard does a double take as he zlins Alea's nager and what it's doing to Arat.
Alea nods formally, rather protective of the channel in her grip.
Arat meets Jeniard's eyes.
Alea, strangely enough, feels like an intruder between the two.
Arat: Jeniard, this is Alea Farris ambrov Zeor.
Arat: Sosu Alea, Hajene Jeniard.
Arat: He is my... assistant.
Alea nods.
Jeniard tears his eyes away from Arat's to meet Alea's.
Alea: Greetings to you, Hajene Jeniard.
Jeniard: Pleased to meet you. [awkwardly]
Alea is a short gently rounded Gen with long blonde hair... definitely Farris features other than the blond hair.
Alea smiles pleasantly, trying to put this person at ease, wondering what she is doing wrong.
Alea has decided she must definitely smell of the mule she rode into town, from the way both are acting.
Arat: Alea has been assigned to me, and to this Center, indefinitely.
Jeniard smiles, a bit tensely, and places a pile of papers in Arat's In-box.
Jeniard: I just came to drop off these.
Alea glances at Arat.
Alea: Should I wait outside?
Alea would normally not ask that of any channel and is afraid leaving the two here would be the wrong decision, but then again, Gens know when it's best to hide and looking at those two thought this might have been one of those times.
Arat: No. [not taking his eyes off Jeniard]
Arat: You're fine.
Jeniard turns and walks out of the office, his back stiff.
Alea glances at Arat when Jeniard leaves.
Alea: Not that it is my business, Hajene, but he was angry....
Arat: He was jealous.
Arat turns to appraise Alea and her nager.
Arat: He will adjust.
Alea bows her head humbly.
Alea: Of course, Hajene.
Alea: Are you short of Donors?
Arat: We are not short of Donors, no.
Arat: In fact, I expect that Beni will be reassigned to another District as a result of your arrival.
Alea has no idea why he would be jealous then.
Alea: Oh, dear.
Alea: Did Beni and this person have a... um... relationship and he's afraid to lose her?
Alea flushes.
Alea: Pardon me for asking.
Alea is stepping out of bounds already, she realizes, with personal questions.
Alea: I'll be glad to serve however I can.
Arat, normally unable to trust Donors with even the most basic information they need to do their jobs, is not quite ready to answer questions that personal even from a Donor such as Alea.
Arat nods.
Alea turns her full Farris attention to soothing Arat and working out the knots from his system.
Alea: Is Snake assigned here right now?
Alea asks this casually as she concentrates on Arat and his systems.
Arat: She is my patient, yes.
Alea: Would it be possible, some date in the future, if I might stop by and see her?
Alea: We're old, very close friends.
Alea smiles nostalgically.
Arat's paranoia is pretty robust under even the best conditions, so he hesitates.
Alea pauses at his hesitation and studies him closely.
Alea: That gives you pause.
Alea: Why?
Arat: I am sure it can be arranged, eventually.
Alea nods.
Arat eludes the direct question.
Alea: I'm ever ready to follow your lead, Hajene.
Alea: When you deem it appropriate.
Arat is pleased by her response, and allows himself to relax a bit more in reaction.
Arat still can't believe his luck, and if the truth be told is kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Alea starts working on his arms, stroking his tentacles gently projecting relaxation and steady calmness.
Alea: Did I interrupt your work?
Alea wonders why the man is so quiet and calm and so unFarrislike.
Arat forgets what he'd been working on as she manipulates his forearms.
Arat: ...No. I had just finished a meeting.
Alea thinks, 'ah ha'.
Alea: Forgive me for barging in... I had thought this was the... secretary's....
Alea realizes Farris = no lies.
Alea sighs.
Alea: My field responded and I felt the need to enter.
Arat had actually been interrupted in the act of staring morbidly at his desk and contemplating all the worst details of his life, and his personality, and the doom of being associated with his birth family despite his Tecton career, etc. and therefore really needed to be interrupted, although he'd never actually admit this even to himself.
Alea: I wasn't sure until I opened the door what was here. Forgive me, Hajene, for my intrusion, but thank you for the opportunity to work.
Alea: Can you take a moment from your busy schedule to tell me a bit about this place?
Arat drags himself up from wondering at her seemingly perfect nager.
Arat: Of course.
Alea is overly calm because of the exhaustion of riding for hours. She also is in a totally secluded room where she's not being badgered by lesser channels that would normally drive her insane.
Alea waits to hear what the tall, long haired channel has to say. She notes how very neat he is, how very in control, how very together and doesn't seem the least bit ready to break into a million pieces. This encourages her greatly after her last assignment.
Arat: This is the office of the 53rd District of the Tecton. We're based here in Capitol but only a corner of the District is here, and it stretches as far as New Othwol to the Northwest.
Arat pretends as if New Othwol has no more meaning to him than a landmark.
Alea: Nice country. First time I've been up here.
Arat nods.
Alea: Have you been in New Othwol much?
Arat stiffens.
Alea thinks... ooops.
Arat: I was born there.
Alea: Perhaps you can give me a tour sometime.
Alea quickly changes the subject.
Alea: How long have you been here now?
Alea: At the 53rd district?
Arat: I have been District Controller for three years.
Alea: Wonderful.
Arat has made no secret of his dislike of the post or his beliefs that it is unfair for any one channel to be stuck with the same Controller position for longer than a few months.
Alea is simply glad to be working with a Farris, even if they aren't Zeor.
Arat however is so incredibly good at his job that almost nothing he could do will ever get him dislodged from the position.
Alea wonders why he has been there so long and what he did to be punished but doesn't ask this.
Alea: Will I be your Donor this month then, Hajene?
Arat: But Capitol is a large city, and there are many opportunities for work which could not be duplicated in a smaller setting.
Alea nods.
Alea: That's a nice challenge.
Arat: Our District Offices and Sime Center contain a children's burn ward which has no equal anywhere else.
Alea: Yes... I've heard of that.
Arat: And there are many opportunities to interact with the personnel of other Districts, as well as the Territory and World level Controller's offices.
Arat: And of course, the local Sime Centers and government.
Alea: Have you met the World Controller then?
Arat: Upon formal occasions, yes.
Alea chuckles.
Alea: I haven't known him to be very formal.
Alea: Ever.
Arat is more familiar with Seruffin, the Second Assistant World Controller whose domain includes Neptude's Regional Controllership and therefore Arat's 53rd District.
Arat studies Alea somberly.
Alea doesn't realize he isn't talking about Muryin's son and has fond memories dancing in her head.
Alea tilts her head.
Alea ~~ yes? ~~
Arat is rarely informal under any circumstances, and other people are generally formal around him, at least if they know him well. Arat also has no personal connection whatsoever with the World Controller, aside from the last name.
Arat: I lack your connections, it would seem.
Alea reaches out in her very informal way and pats his hand.
Alea: Not connections, Hajene. He simply likes chocolate and post activities.
Alea shakes her head on a chuckle.
Arat is not comfortable with this level of familiarity and it shows in a subtly worried expression and a tenseness through his shoulders.
Alea frowns and gets up to move behind him and rub his shoulders.
Alea wants to ask, "Have I said something to offend you, Hajene?" but instead just works on relaxing him.
Arat is curiously caught between nager-worship of the Farris Gen and an acute sense of possessing something that must have fallen into his hands by accident, and which he is not equipped to relate to in any normal fashion.
Alea: I know my arrival must have disrupted your day.
Alea: Again, however, I thank you for the time you've allowed me in your busy schedule to talk with you.
Alea: Can you tell me where my quarters might be and what my orders are?
Arat's tentacles curl around Alea's wrist just in case she had any ideas of leaving.
Alea knows that action from a channel and immediately drops down, running her hand up his arm.
Alea: ~~ pleasure working with him~~
Alea: I'll stay as long as you like, Hajene.
Arat: Thank you.
Arat is infamous for working his Donors until they drop.
Alea: Is there something special you require of me, Hajene, or might I lay on the sofa and rest while you work?
Arat looks reluctant.
Arat looks as if he'd rather anything but. Short of her actually leaving, of course.
Alea: If you would prefer I'll sit by you. ~~ allows a bit of her exhaustion to show ~~
Arat: You may lie on the sofa.
Alea: Thank you, Hajene.
Alea has a feeling this man is going to be hard to please.
Alea picks up her carpet bag and takes it over to the sofa and lays down ~~ soothing support directed solely at Arat, never leaving him ~~
Alea: I guess, Hajene, I'm on duty immediately, so let me know when you require me for anything.
Alea ~~ wry amusement ~~
Arat feels just a tiny bit sheepish for his reaction to her, but the reaction is strong enough that he wouldn't dream of letting her go, either.
Arat puts her papers in his in-basket for further investigation, and decides to enjoy an hour or two of not knowing, before he actually does anything about them.
Notes:
1) Some time passes between these two scenes. [return]