Sime~Gen Roleplaying: District Controller's Office Scenario
Episode #81: Punch Hour (9/26/99)
Pylor makes his way to Arat's office at the appointed time, still ~~ skeptical ~~
Pylor isn't sure exactly what is going on, but he's pretty sure that whatever it is, it's not Arat having a change of heart where he is concerned.
Pylor debates whether he should signal or not, seeing as how he is technically filling in for Arat's Donor.
Arat is sitting by himself in his office, having sent Alea away and Jeniard knows not to come.
Pylor considers Arat's rigid formality earlier, and decides to do so.
Pylor: ~~ signal ~~
Arat starts to say "enter", then decides this could be interpreted as less than groveling camaraderie, and gets up and goes over to the door.
Arat opens the door.
Pylor: Hello, Hajene...
Pylor starts to say "Jeniard", then blinks in amazement.
Pylor: ...Arat.
Arat normally would simply say "Pylor." in acknowledgment of his presence at this point (as opposed to ignoring his presence utterly, which would be the case with someone he hadn't planned on interacting with and won't be forced to be).
Arat therefore has to force himself to say "Hello, Pylor. Thank you for coming."
Arat finds it excruciating, but the words eventually come out.
Arat finds the thought of thanking somebody for what is essentially a torture to him - Pylor's presence - is appalling.
Pylor nods and enters, so that Arat can close the door.
Arat closes the door.
Arat hesitates, and then walks over to the tea area.
Arat pours one cup for Pylor, since he knows perfectly well Pylor always starts any session with a cup of tea.
Pylor is off balance enough that his usual intense dislike of Arat is substantially mitigated by ~~ confusion ~~
Arat wordlessly hands the tea to Pylor and returns to his desk.
Pylor raises an eyebrow, and glances at Arat's desk to see if there is already a cup there.
Pylor: Thank you.
Pylor settles down in the Donor's chair.
Arat hopes he has satisfied Pylor's fetish for equality enough for now, so he can get some work done.
Arat thinks if it's just a matter of "praising" Pylor for anything that isn't too obviously deliberate in the way of mishandling, he ought to be able to get some of his work done at the same time.
Arat supposes if that works out for several days, they can work their way up to actual channeling work and such.
Arat pulls a report from his In-Box and starts reading it studiously.
Pylor sips at the tea, still so astonished at being offered it in the first place that he barely notices that it is Tecton Standard, not one of the nicer blends Arat keeps handy for Nick. 1
Pylor recalls that he is supposed to be providing support, and decides to make an effort.
Pylor takes a deep breath, and tries his best ~~ support ~~
Arat looks surprised.
Pylor's effort doesn't have quite the desperation behind it that it did just before their last transfer, but it is still significantly better than is required by his usual channels.
Arat wonders if Neptude came down on Pylor in person too.
Pylor has still not quite managed to get rid of the wobble, alas.
Arat knows it can't last, of course.
Arat: That's... not as bad as usual. [still sounds surprised]
Arat realizes that didn't come out 100% free of criticism, and tries again.
Arat: Aside from the low frequency flutter, it is very nearly acceptable.
Arat realizes that didn't cut the mustard either, and realizes he's going to have to avoid specifics altogether.
Pylor's nager flattens just a tad at this faint praise.
Arat: It's good.
Arat sighs as the praise causes Pylor to reduce his efforts.
Arat doesn't think this is the way to do this, but Neptude is, after all, his Controller.
Pylor nods a bit shortly, grits his teeth, and tries to maintain the effort.
Arat tries to ignore the gritted teeth as he returns to his report.
Pylor's teeth gradually ungrit as he focuses on what he is doing; it requires too much effort to leave much energy for his dislike of Aratly arrogance.
Pylor knows he's not going to last a full hour of this, and hopes Alea gets back from lunch early.
Pylor's nageric wobble gradually increases as he tires.
Arat is fully aware of every tiny increment of the unpleasant effect, of course.
Arat simply endures it at first, and then spends some time trying to think of a way to phrase a comment on it as a compliment, to no avail.
Arat needless to say is no longer getting any work done at that point.
Arat finally puts down his pen and rubs his temples with both hands, deciding he has to say something, but still having no idea what he's going to say.
Pylor's concentration finally breaks after some 30 minutes of sustained effort, and his nager slips out of support.
Pylor: Sorry.
Pylor actually seems to mean the ~~ apology ~~
Arat is very relieved, actually; it means he doesn't have to say anything at all.
Arat gestures with two tentacles, which might mean either "I noticed" or "that's OK".
Pylor leans back in the chair, closes his eyes while he takes a few deep breaths, then opens them again and struggles to find the proper nageric configuration again.
Arat: Why don't you take a break. [at last]
Arat: Five minutes.
Arat isn't keen enough on Neptude's plan to sit through the equivalent to a nageric charlie horse if Pylor gets himself into a knot trying to prove something.
Arat supposes that Neptude has a certain amount of stake in the outcome of this looking good; if he has put as much pressure on Pylor as he put on Arat, the Donor would be trying to look good.
Pylor's assumption that he has failed to make the mark again is somewhat assuaged by the briefness of the break, which will result in another support-session before Alea returns.
Arat has a number of problems with this method, though. Not least that he has a very hard time sucking-up, even falsely, to somebody who has abused him as badly as Pylor in the past. Arat's method for dealing with those who dislike him is to refuse them the pleasure of his company.
Pylor is also well aware that there is no way he could manage another 25 minutes without rest.
Pylor stands up and goes to refresh his cup of tea.
Pylor: You want some, too?
Arat: No.
Arat forces out the rest of it.
Arat: Thanks.
Arat intends to use his free time to attempt to devise some subtle, nonverbal and non-threatening way to communicate news of the unhappy nageric wobble to Pylor in such a way that the Donor can correct it without feeling defensive or giving up entirely.
Arat at first thinks maybe a swaying tentacle or pen moving in rhythm with the disturbance, but this could just as easily cause it to become worse.
Pylor nods, refills his cup, and returns to his chair.
Arat is hunched up over his desk, looking quite unconsciously as if he's trying to curl up and disappear.
Pylor takes full advantage of the rest opportunity to go through some of those refreshing exercises he learned in training.
Pylor notes Arat's hunched posture, puts that together with Arat's request for emergency support while still pre-turnover, and makes the erroneous but plausible assumption that Arat is having a bad month with Alea.
Pylor has, of course, been briefed on some of Alea's more... unfortunate... adventures by Darrel, in rather colorful terms.
Pylor has enough Donor instinct left to feel a generic sympathy for any channel working with a Donor so accident-prone as Alea is alleged to be.
Pylor is sure that Arat must be working full-time to prevent any major incidents.
Pylor is unaware that Darrel might have overstated Alea's accident-proneness just a tad.
Pylor therefore cuts his rest break as short as he dares, and resumes the best ~~ support ~~ he can manage a full 30 seconds early.
Pylor finds it much more difficult to find the proper nageric configuration this time, staring tired.
Pylor's nager fumbles back and forth, trying to find the right spot.
Arat looks up from his desk.
Arat looks pretty whipped; this hasn't exactly been an easy session for him, and it hasn't been getting any easier.
Pylor is starting to get a bit ~ frustrated ~ as he fails.
Arat supposes that Pylor thinks he hasn't been receiving his due as an equal, since Arat hasn't worked that angle in a while.
Arat sighs, and carefully chooses words which include no threatening specifics.
Arat: I can tell you are trying your best. Thank you.
Pylor grimaces.
Pylor: I can almost feel where I should be, but it keeps slipping away before I can lock it in.
Arat: That will improve with practice.
Arat means, assuming Pylor actually continues to practice.
Pylor is soothed enough by this reassurance to keep trying.
Pylor finally gets the wobbles to narrow down to sort-of-close to where they should be.
Pylor: That's not quite it either, but....
Pylor lets a brief apology flare in his nager, then damps it down as he concentrates to the best of his (limited, by Farris standards) ability.
Arat is not sure what he could add that would be helpful, so he says nothing.
Pylor's nager is definitely fraying at the edges by the five-minute mark.
Arat isn't sure which would be worse, to tell Pylor to have mercy on himself [read: Arat] and stop, or to allow him to continue to struggle.
Arat would ordinarily have ordered Pylor to stop, or better yet, leave the room, until he was better rested.
Arat knows one thing for sure; there is nothing here to compliment, other than sheer bloodyminded persistence.
Arat still doesn't know why Pylor has completely set aside his hatred of Arat, or how long it will last.
Arat is pretty sure he'd know if this fumbling was intentional, and it doesn't seem like it is.
Pylor breaks down with two minutes to go.
Pylor: I'm sorry. I just can't hold it any longer.
Pylor has never liked failing, particularly not with such a harsh critic as Arat.
Pylor braces himself for the expected condemnation for less-than perfect results.
Pylor: ~~ defensive ~~
Arat: Stamina also improves with application to practice.
Arat's nager withdraws from the defensiveness.
Arat doesn't suppose Pylor will be any more willing to practice than he'd been in the past, however.
Arat can't imagine that whatever magical effect was in place today will last for too many more sessions.
Pylor waits for the inevitable lecture on hard work, and using-your-potential, and optimization-of-talent.
Arat looks down.
Pylor has been hearing all too much of that from his Employee Morale counselor.
Arat can tell that Pylor is not feeling too friendly at the moment, and tries to think of what he can do to convince the man that he is pretending they are equals.
Arat thinks maybe the comment about practice, neutral though it was in terms of actual criticism, implied superior knowledge on Arat's part.
Arat takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the most blatant of lies yet.
Arat: I appreciate your coming. Your presence was a help to me.
Arat tries not to sound depressed when he says it.
Pylor looks at Arat closely, trying to judge exactly what Arat meant by that statement.
Arat looks tired and depressed, and is staring rather hopelessly at the same report he'd tried to start reading earlier in the hour.
Arat realizes Pylor is studying him, and turns to meet his eyes, carefully wiping all expression from his face so as not to offend.
Pylor sees Arat's depression, and because he wants very much for Arat's compliment to be true, decides that the situation must be worse than he had assumed.
Pylor is not a Farris, of course, but is still egotistical enough to rise to the challenge.
Pylor: I see Darrel wasn't exaggerating, after all. I will return at dinner time, then.
Arat's expression flickers confusion at the mention of Darrel, but he lets it pass.
Arat nods.
Arat: Very well.
Pylor gets to his feet, trying to figure out how he can swing at least an hour of complete rest before then.
Pylor is well aware that he is in no condition to help even his current assignment at the moment.
Arat reflects to himself that while Neptude's plan may very well succeed in saving Pylor's career and Neptude's ass, he can't really see that pretending to be not Arat and not a Farris, in all ways emotionally, intellectually and nagerically, will help Pylor do anything but serve more low-Firsts.
Pylor leaves Arat's office, wondering if this arrangement entitles him to read Arat's file, and if so, what horrendous things have been going on behind the closed doors.
Arat however will do it, if that's what it takes to satisfy Neptude and be rid of Pylor forever.
Nick pokes his nose into Arat's office on his way back from lunch, forgetting to signal.
Nick: Arat, are you sure that.... What happened?
Arat is startled by the intrusion, having not been zlinning.
Arat: Nick!
Nick looks around.
Arat collects himself quickly.
Nick: Where's Alea?
Arat: She is due back momentarily.
Arat wouldn't dream of leaning on another channel's Donor, at least not without an invitation, but Nick's presence is a physical relief nonetheless.
Nick goes further into the office, letting his nager slide towards generic support.
Nick: You look awful. What have you been doing to yourself?
Arat flings himself, nagerically speaking, onto the generic support, considering it invitation enough.
Arat: I have been... working short sessions with a Donor for therapeutic purposes.
Nick automatically adjusts his nager, hitting the proper configuration effortlessly.
Arat does not needlessly state that the therapy was for the Donor, not him.
Nick: You should have Alea with you when you do something that difficult.
Nick assumes that if it weren't difficult, Arat wouldn't have been the one doing it, and he wouldn't look so wiped out.
Arat: According to the prescribed treatment, it is important that the Donor be given full access to me, and my handling.
Arat: If Alea were present, it would be a distraction.
Nick: Oh. Well, maybe you should shorten the sessions, then?
Arat doesn't doubt it would also be a disaster, at least once Alea got a good feel for Pylor's personality.
Arat shakes his head.
Arat: He is to be challenged.
Nick expertly irons the wrinkles from Arat's nager.
Arat had found that detail of Neptude's plan one of the more tricky ones; simply rolling belly up to Pylor without trying to push him at all would have been loathsome, but simpler.
Nick puts together bits and pieces of gossip with Narosian expertise.
Nick: This doesn't have anything to do with Pylor, does it?
Arat finds Nick's manipulations to be heavenly.
Arat sighs, not liking to discuss patients' details with their peers, but knowing this is going to be all over the place shortly no matter what he does.
Arat: Yes, it is Pylor.
Arat: Controller Neptude has prescribed a series of short work sessions to accustom Pylor to working with me.
Nick: ~~ concern ~~
Arat leaves out the detail that Arat is not supposed to be himself during the sessions.
Nick: I thought you'd requested that he be rotated elsewhere?
Arat: That was not deemed to be suitable.
Nick himself sees no reason to force an obviously incompatible pairing.
Arat: Neptude would like to see Pylor working with Farrises, and I am the most practical means to that end.
Nick: That's hard.
Nick: ~~ sympathy ~~
Arat has to admit that with Pylor's attitude, most Zeor Farrises wouldn't give him a chance at all.
Arat wouldn't either, but he's easier for Regional to strong-arm.
Nick: Well, if Snake and I can help, let us know.
Arat nods once.
Nick: She's been rather successful at getting cooperation from reluctant students in the past.
Nick thinks of Linn, and Hero.
Arat is not going to be doing any more experimenting with Pylor, since Neptude had made it very clear he thought Arat had ruined Pylor and he was taking matters into his own hands.
Arat does not feel it necessary to relay these details to Nick, however.
Nick finishes his work on Arat's nager, and gently disengages.
Arat looks much better than he had only minutes before.
Nick: There, that should help.
Arat gives Nick a look somewhere between I-wish-I-could-take-you-home-with-me and thank-you.
Nick: Alea can finish up when she returns.
Arat: I will see you and Snake at our next session.
Nick nods, having decided that his question isn't important enough to bug Arat when he's in bad shape.
Nick: Until then.
Notes:
1) This is a misapprehension on Pylor's part. Nick supplied his own tea. It wouldn't occur to Arat to buy nice tea just because Nick likes it. [return]