Sime~Gen Roleplaying: District Controller's Office Scenario
Episode #133: Jack-in-the-Box (1/10/00)
Nick steps out of Arat's room with a sigh, relaxing the concentration he's been holding.
Nick is very glad that Jeniard is willing to give him an occasional break.
Nick walks slowly down the hall, heading for the stairs to the roof.
Nick has not been getting his accustomed ration of fresh air.
Homer stands in the roof garden, leaning on the edge of the wall overlooking the city.
Homer has heard that Controller Arat's new Donor, Nick, sometimes comes up here.
Nick is looking forward to a bit of solitude as well, as he makes his way up the stairs.
Homer has had great difficulty tracking down the elusive new Donor, who is rarely to be encountered in the cafeteria or the halls or any of the other places Homer is allowed to go.
Nick is therefore a bit disconcerted when he opens the door to the roof garden and finds someone already there.
Nick: I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude.
Nick adjusts his nager for minimal disturbance of the other's meditations.
Homer looks at Nick, startled by the radiance of his nager.
Homer: You are welcome.
Homer is a Second Order Channel of 17 natal years, with olive skin, dark eyes and hair that is pulled back in a long braid.
Nick is 27 years old and 75% Riyyh, which is sufficient description for those familiar with Narosians.
Nick: Thank you.
Nick steps out on the roof.
Homer appreciates the nageric courtesy, but no adjustment can hide the power of his field.
Homer: Are you... Sosu Nick?
Nick walks over to look over the parapet.
Nick: Er, yes, I'm Nick Reckage.
Nick isn't sure exactly when he'll officially become a "Sosu".
Homer observes Nick with awe. He can hardly believe such a magnificent nager could exist.
Homer: Uh, my name is Homer.
Homer: Homer Hawke.
Homer: I mean, Hajene Homer.
Nick looks at Homer a bit absentmindedly.
Nick: Pleased to meet you, Homer.
Homer: I am honored.
Nick: I don't recall seeing you around before. Are you new here?
Homer: It's been about two months, for me.
Nick: Oh. You would have arrived after I left, then.
Nick is glad that he has not forgotten someone to whom he was introduced during his previous stay.
Homer: Yes. We have not met before.
Homer: I was hoping to ask you... about Controller Arat.
Nick: What about Arat?
Homer: How is he doing?
Homer: ~~ earnest and concerned ~~
Nick: Pylor didn't manage to quite murder him.
Nick doesn't bother to hide his dislike of Pylor from his voice, although his nager remains controlled.
Homer: That was wrong, to match them. Very wrong.
Homer shakes his head.
Homer: I was there when he collapsed.
Nick: You were?
Homer: I did not know what to do.
Nick looks at Homer with renewed interest.
Nick: I've only heard Jeniard's version--perhaps you would tell me what happened?
Homer can zlin Nick's concern for Arat and is more than willing to help.
Homer: Of course, Sosu.
Homer: Controller Arat had not been well for some time.
Homer: He is difficult for a Second to zlin, of course.
Homer: But anyone could see with sight alone that he did not sleep enough or eat enough.
Nick: With Pylor looking after him, I'm not surprised.
Nick looks a bit grim.
Homer: I am not of a rank to spend much time in that part of the building.
Homer: But when ever I met with him, Pylor was not there.
Homer: He worked without a Donor, even though his nager frayed about the edges.
Nick: He would. [mutters]
Nick has some experience with Farris oink-headedness, after all.
Homer: That day, we had a meeting, myself and Sosu Lemuse
Homer: We entered as usual, said our greetings, but the Controller seemed in a daze.
Nick: A daze? Are you sure he wasn't just concentrating on something else?
Homer: We had [blushing at remembering being dragged back half-conscious by Arat] serious business to discuss but he did not mention it.
Nick frowns.
Nick: I see.
Nick wonders what the blush is all about.
Homer: He just said everything was fine.
Homer: And then he lay down on the floor.
Nick: He fainted?
Homer: No. His nager was beginning to roll back and forth like water in a bucket.
Homer: I think he lay down to steady himself.
Homer: And Sosu Lemuse ran to get Hajene Jeniard and said I should wait with him and let no one in.
Nick: Did he manage to stabilize himself?
Homer: ~~ distressed ~~
Homer: No, and that may have been my fault.
Homer: I tried to damp the oscillations and that made things worse.
Homer: I did not know what to do.
Nick looks alarmed.
Nick: You tried to work Arat's fields?
Homer: No, even knowing nothing of Farrises, I could see that would not be safe.
Nick is relieved.
Homer: But what I did made things worse.
Homer: I owe Controller Arat a great debt....
Homer reminds himself again of Lemuse's warnings about talking about his visions.
Homer: ...and I feel very guilty that I may have injured him.
Nick: Well, I'm sure it didn't help to have another nager in the room at the time.
Nick: However, Arat is recovering nicely.
Nick: I don't think there will be any permanent damage.
Homer: ~~ relief ~~
Homer: Do you think he is well enough to speak with me?
Homer: I would like to wish him well and ask his pardon.
Nick weighs his own desire to keep Arat resting, against Homer's obvious concern for Arat's health.
Nick then realizes that Homer might serve as a distraction, thus making it easier to keep Arat in bed.
Nick: I've taken a long enough break, I think. I should get back to Arat.
Nick: If you have time, you can come with me, and I'll ask Arat if he wants to see you.
Homer: ~~ grateful ~~
Homer: Thank you, Sosu.
Nick: He may not agree to see you, you know.
Homer: Yes, I understand.
Nick nods and leads the way back down the stairs.
Arat is, at this very moment, being distracted by Jeniard in a way that most people would not be able to get away with.
Homer follows Nick humbly.
Jeniard: Stop it... now, come on, this will only take a moment longer.
Jeniard works the comb over a particularly nasty tangle.
Arat manages to remain seated, although in his gradual convalescence he is becoming disproportionately much more restless.
Nick pauses before the door.
Arat would, of course, have to leave his head behind if he actually got up at this point, since Jeniard has him very thoroughly secured.
Nick: Wait here, while I see if Arat is interested in a visitor.
Homer: Very well, Sosu.
Nick slips through the door, exercising a Donor's right of entry.
Nick is careful not to disturb the fields, in case Jeniard is doing something therapeutic.
Jeniard and Arat look up suddenly at Nick's return, frozen in an... er... rather compromising pose.
Nick thinks that the family resemblance between Arat and Snake is much stronger than usual, at the moment.
Jeniard has managed to persuade Arat that he didn't look neat enough to go out, and removed every knot of the famous "anally retentive neat braid" that usually contains the er, Farrisness of....
Nick: Hello.
Arat nods at Nick, then winces.
Jeniard: You're back so soon!
Jeniard looks at the comb in his hand, then sets it aside and climbs hastily off the bed.
Nick ignores the compromising nature of their pose.
Jeniard: Well, they'd like to see me on the floor as soon as possible, so if it's all the same to you....
Jeniard had thought Nick would be gone for an hour at least.
Nick: Go on ahead, we'll manage.
Jeniard slips out, brushing himself off.
Jeniard nods to Homer as he passes.
Homer nods back.
Nick looks a tad doubtfully at Arat's Farris-wild mane.
Arat looks after Jeniard in disbelief, then looks up at Nick.
Arat realizes what Nick is looking at and becomes visibly self-conscious.
Nick: Do you require help with that?
Arat: No. [stiffly]
Arat: Jeniard...
Arat: Doesn't have many hobbies.
Nick forbears from making any pot-calling-kettle-Farris-black comparisons.
Nick: There's a channel named Homer out there.
Nick nods towards the hall.
Nick: He wanted to know if you are up to having a visitor.
Nick: He seemed quite concerned about your health.
Arat: Yes, ask him in.
Nick returns to the door and opens it.
Nick: Homer? Arat's willing to see you.
Homer smiles.
Homer: I am glad.
Homer enters the room.
Nick returns to Arat's side, holding the fields steady.
Homer takes in the view of Arat propped up in his bed, his hair flying wild just like the Black Stallion in his vision.
Arat's nager is under control, but he is looking not quite himself with a nightshirt instead of a uniform, and a hairstyle more suited to a Percheron than a man.
Homer zlins Nick and Arat together, and senses the balance between their fields.
Arat: Hajene Homer.
Homer stands very still, taking in the gestalt of what he is zlinning, seeing and experiencing in the room.
Homer: Controller Arat. I am glad to see that you are recovering.
Nick settles down on the bed beside Arat.
Homer: ~~ intense fascination mixed with devotion ~~
Arat nods gravely.
Arat: I apologize for what happened.
Homer: No need. I regret any harm I may have caused you in my ignorance.
Arat: I should not have allowed it to - come to that, particularly when you were there. It was not a situation you should have been forced to handle.
Nick thinks that Pylor was a situation Arat should not have been asked to handle.
Arat actually has a couple of questions to ask about Homer's nager while the channel was trying to help him, but would rather not admit he was paying attention to Homer's field during such a time while Nick is listening.
Homer: I am just sorry I was of so little assistance to you. I am deeply in your debt.
Nick: What exactly did you try to do?
Arat of course is unaware of just what kind of debt Homer is talking about.
Arat assumes it has more to do with being a guiding hand and a good Controller.
Nick has been a bit curious about this: by his understanding, either Arat or Homer should have been more badly injured by the interaction.
Homer: Ah, to dampen the oscillations at the periphery of the room's ambient. Controller Neptude tells me this was a mistake.
Homer: As I found out by experience.
Arat: It is easier for me if there are no perturbations of the ambient during such a situation.
Homer: So I have been instructed.
Arat has been told by Jeniard about 1000 times that he should have admitted he was ill much sooner than that and then the situation would never have happened.
Arat admits that it was his fault that he lost control, but doesn't think that claiming incapacity would have floated boats with the Powers that Be beforehand.
Homer: But perhaps all this is for the best
Arat has had some experience in these matters and has noticed that people tend to assume the impossible can be done indefinitely, until proven otherwise with hard evidence.
Nick happens to share Jeniard's opinion of Arat's behavior, but lacks his capacity for futile recriminations.
Arat looks at Homer, inviting an explanation.
Homer: Because now Sosu Nick has come to take proper care of you.
Nick certainly intends to try, while the Tecton allows--and maybe afterwards, as well.
Arat nods.
Arat: It was excellent timing, although somewhat of a coincidence.
Arat suspects it had less to do with taking care of himself than it had to do with Nick's father driving him crazy with inadequate transfers and prattling over clothing and such.
Arat is not objecting to the results, though!
Homer: ~~ smiles gently ~~
Arat looks at Nick, then places a hand on Nick's forearm.
Arat: Nick has agreed to pledge to the Tecton, for which I am thankful.
Arat: I hope that we will be able to work together regularly in the future.
Nick's nager ~~ warms ~~ a Farris-perceptible degree at the thought.
Arat hopes they will be able to work together in the future, period.
Arat pauses, for a moment.
Homer zlins them together and nods approvingly.
Homer: I am not a believer in coincidence, myself.
Homer has never known someone to encounter the Corn Spirit and come away empty-handed.
Homer has his faith strengthened to see that Arat is no exception to this rule.
Homer: But with all that has happened, I was concerned for you.
Homer: And thought you might require some additional protection.
Homer: I know I was worse than useless in coming to your aid when you fell ill.
Homer: But I hope this will prove more effective.
Homer hands Arat a tiny box.
Nick intercepts it.
Nick: What is in it?
Nick assumes that if Homer doesn't know enough to leave a Farris in trouble strictly alone, he probably isn't up on the allergies, either.
Arat had started to reach for the box, but lets his hand fall again as Nick takes it.
Arat isn't used to people intercepting things intended for him in mid-air, but realizes that it will take Nick a while to catch on to the subtleties of Tecton interactions.
Homer: A necklace. It bears a warding charm. Copper with fluorite beads. It should be safe; I looked it up.
Nick nods, and passes the box on to Arat.
Homer: You may think this superstition, Controller Arat, but this gift also bears my wishes for your good health.
Arat opens the box and looks inside, and then closes it thoughtfully.
Arat: Thank you.
Homer hopes that Arat will wear the necklace, as anyone who fights the Death Spirit without a shaman's training will need all the protection he can get.
Homer knows Arat better than to try to insist he put it on, however.
Homer: ~~ deep respect ~~
Arat: Please give my thanks to Sosu Lemuse as well.
Arat: I have not been able to speak to her since then.
Arat has been sat upon by his caretakers.
Homer: Yes, I will do that. She has been most concerned for you.
Nick, as the chief among those caretakers, surveys Arat for signs of tiring.
Homer: I am glad to see that you are recovering, Controller.
Homer: I will leave now. Thank you for receiving me.
Homer leaves the room.
Pylor approaches his recently scheduled "training session" with caution.
Pylor finds it rather strange that the notice didn't include any information on which channel is supposed to be training him.
Pylor hadn't heard that Arat was working yet, not that Nick would be likely to allow Pylor anywhere near him.
Wise Snake is lounging in a multipurpose room, picking her fingernails with an object resembling a suspiciously wide, sharp letter opener.
Wise Snake has temporarily ditched Beni, not because she plans to use Pylor as a Donor but because she doesn't want any artificial inhibitions put upon their meeting.
Pylor approaches the room mentioned on the schedule notice and signals.
Wise Snake: It's open!
Wise Snake puts her feet up on a convenient table and waits for Pylor to get some spine.
Pylor frowns, trying to remember where he's heard that voice before.
Pylor shrugs, then opens the door and steps through.
Pylor is not paying complete attention (a common failing with him), and therefore gets a full three steps into the room before he realizes who spoke.
Wise Snake looks at him cynically.
Pylor: Hajene Snake!
Wise Snake: You're late.
Wise Snake: Or am I allowed to say that?
Pylor: ~~ yikes! ~~
Pylor: What are you doing here?
Wise Snake removes her feet from the table, places the letter opener(?) in a convenient pocket, and gets up to examine Pylor more closely, walking around him.
Pylor had thought her safely locked up, outside of carefully supervised training sessions.
Wise Snake: Hmmm... hmmm... interesting.
Pylor looks around nervously, noting the apparent lack of supervisory types.
Pylor: Where's Beni?
Pylor has heard that Beni can sometimes calm Snake down.
Pylor does not like Snake's inspection one bit.
Wise Snake: Beni? I believe he's spending his bonus over at the leather shop.
Pylor: Leather shop?
Wise Snake finishes her zlinning, and nods.
Wise Snake: Do-able.
Wise Snake: Difficult, but do-able.
Wise Snake: That's OK, I've been dying for a challenge.
Wise Snake: The attitude will have to go, of course.
Wise Snake: [apparently talking to herself]
Pylor starts inching back towards the door.
Pylor: Apparently I got the wrong room.
Pylor: I'll just go straighten it out now.
Pylor: Sorry to have bothered you....
Pylor realizes he's babbling, but Snake has that effect on him, particularly when she calls him "friend" in that tone of voice.
Wise Snake: Pylor, the room will be so right for you, once I've finished.
Wise Snake: Ah - not so fast, friend.
Wise Snake applies some sort of judo and trips Pylor into a convenient chair.
Pylor: Oooof!
Wise Snake: Let's see. We shall require a volunteer.
Wise Snake whips open the door, and buttonholes an innocent passerby.
Wise Snake's dorsal enters Max's buttonhole and tugs him rather unexpectedly into the room.
Max was walking down the corridor, several weighty research books under his arms, lost in contemplation.
Max is in the room before he realizes what is happening.
Pylor looks at Max, hoping for help.
Wise Snake closes the door.
Wise Snake: Hello, my name is Wise Snake Farris.
Max finds himself face-to-face with a rather maniacal-looking Farris channel.
Max: P-Pleased to meet you, Hajene Farris.
Max, being Sime, manages to hold onto his books despite his surprise.
Wise Snake: And you are?
Wise Snake sometimes has to help people along a little bit.
Max: Max ambrov Chanel.
Wise Snake: Max.
Pylor notes the closed door with alarm, since it means that passers by are unlikely to observe that he requires a rescue.
Wise Snake: Max, this is Sosu Pylor.
Wise Snake: Sosu Pylor, Max.
Pylor's eyes meet Max's, pleading for rescue.
Max zlins the First Order Donor who appears to be in an unaccustomed state of terror.
Max: Greetings, Sosu Pylor.
Wise Snake: Since my father, in his infinite wisdom, chose to become sick leaving Neptude with no choice but to assign me to complete Pylor's training, we shall begin with a brief rundown of what exactly will be required.
Pylor: Assigned to complete...?
Pylor: ~~ protest ~~
Pylor doesn't like Arat at all, but Snake gives him the willies.
Wise Snake: Max, could you please look for a roll of medical tape? The wide kind.
Max knows that Wise Snake is supposed to be in protective confinement and is only allowed to treat staff members.
Max knows that Pylor, of course, is a staff member.
Max zlins Pylor and Wise Snake, trying to determine just what is going on here.
Pylor really wishes he knew; it would make it so much easier to make his protests stick.
Wise Snake's nager is ~~ bright, powerful, and decisive ~~.
Pylor cautiously tries to stand up from the chair into which he was so unceremoniously deposited.
Max thinks that Wise Snake appears to be quite sure of herself while Pylor seems confused and indecisive.
Max gives into his well-trained impulse to accept any Farris as an authority.
Max: Certainly, Hajene Farris.
Wise Snake smiles at Max, a snakishly earnest smile.
Max leaves the room and goes to get tape from the store room.
Wise Snake nods smartly and turns on her heel to face Pylor.
Pylor settles back into the chair with a weak, placating smile.
Pylor pretends he was merely stretching.
Wise Snake: Now, as I understand it, you are a perfectly acceptable Donor, you simply lack common sense, a constructive attitude and stamina.
Pylor: ...what?
Pylor tries to figure out if that was a compliment or an insult, and if so, to what degree.
Wise Snake: Farris-specific skills can come later, of course, once you've mastered the basics.
Wise Snake goes to a small counter and reaches into a cardboard box.
Wise Snake returns carrying a rather overripe pumpkin of approximately 6" diameter.
Wise Snake: In case you're wondering what that smell was, this is it.
Pylor looks nervously at the rotten cucurbit.
Wise Snake: Of course, it would smell quite a bit more if the skin weren't intact. [conversationally]
Max returns, medical tape in tentacle.
Wise Snake: Thank you.
Max stares oddly at the pumpkin.
Wise Snake hands Max the soft, saggy pumpkin and takes the tape.
Wise Snake: Please be careful with that. [to Max]
Wise Snake: Now. As I was saying [to Pylor] it is necessary to develop common sense, constructive attitude and stamina before attempting the more difficult Donoring skills specific to working with Farrises.
Max takes the pumpkin in both hands, passing his research books dexterously from tentacle to tentacle and finally setting them down on the table.
Pylor's mouth opens in a silent protest he does not quite dare to voice.
Max wonders why he has been drafted to assist in Donor training when he is assigned to the Sime Center.
Max knows better than to do anything but graciously accept orders from a Farris channel.
Max notes Pylor's distress and wonders why such a high order Donor should object to training.
Wise Snake: Now. [peels off a 2' section of tape from the roll]
Pylor hopes that Snake will not do anything too horrendous to him with Max present as a witness.
Pylor would find Max's presence less reassuring if he knew how little Snake cared about witnesses.
Max has heard the rumors about Sosu Pylor and finds nothing strange in the idea that he might require additional instruction.
Wise Snake: Oh... I almost forgot.
Wise Snake hands the tape roll (complete with dangling section) to Pylor, then hurries back to her cardboard box.
Pylor holds the tape roll, looking at it as if expecting it to bite him.
Wise Snake returns with the box, and places it upside down over Pylor's head, covering it.
Max finds this behavior somewhat unorthodox.
Wise Snake takes the tape back.
Pylor: What the shen????
Pylor reaches up to remove the box.
Max hefts the pumpkin; he is pre-turnover and is finding it hard to ignore the smell.
Wise Snake frowns at Pylor removing the box.
Wise Snake: I'll have to make a note of that. [to herself]
Wise Snake: Max, give him the pumpkin instead.
Pylor finds any notes Snake might make less intimidating than being blind in her presence.
Max gladly hands the pumpkin off to Pylor.
Pylor doesn't care to hold the smelly thing, and so puts it in the cardboard box.
Wise Snake: Well well, creative avoidance of unpleasantness does seem to be a pattern with you, doesn't it?
Wise Snake tsks.
Wise Snake: Let me tell you a little bit about that pumpkin.
Max searches his memory but cannot recall any Donor training exercises involving overripe pumpkins.
Wise Snake: It belongs to a man named Ekwoo Domle.
Wise Snake: Well, to be more precise, it belongs to his boss.
Wise Snake: But you see, Tuib Domle is the one who is supposed to be taking care of it.
Wise Snake: He doesn't know where it is.
Wise Snake smiles sweetly, not a reassuring sight.
Pylor: Ekwoo Domle is babysitting a rotten pumpkin?
Pylor: ~~ confusion ~~
Pylor knew the man was a bit strange, but still.
Wise Snake: It was given to his boss by the World Controller's daughter, if I recall the details of the situation correctly.
Wise Snake: However, due to certain, shall we say, diplomatic duties required of the office where the pumpkin was housed, it had to be removed just for this afternoon.
Wise Snake: I'm sure you can understand why.
Pylor: What does the Diplomatic office want with a rotten pumpkin?
Max searches his memory but cannot recall any diplomatic ceremonies involving overripe pumpkins.
Wise Snake: I don't think they really want it, [gently] they're just stuck with it until it gets so gnarly even the World Controller's daughter has to admit it's ready to be thrown out.
Wise Snake: Speaking of which, this does have to be back in its rightful place just as soon as the meeting is over.
Wise Snake: Ekwoo Domle is probably going to start wondering where it is any minute now.
Pylor thinks that the man is probably very glad that the smelly thing is gone.
Wise Snake: He's probably wondering where this is, too.
Wise Snake withdraws a folded piece of paper from her pocket.
Wise Snake: Let's see... ah, yes.
Wise Snake: No, that's something else.
Wise Snake lets the paper fall at Pylor's feet; it is an assignment order with Pylor's name prominently featured.
Wise Snake starts checking her other pockets.
Pylor bends over and picks up the assignment order.
Pylor's eye skims over his name, and moves on to the assigned channel.
Wise Snake: Ah!
Wise Snake proudly produces an ornately decorated (with more than just forgeries of Arat's writing, that is) paper bearing the seal of the Diplomatic Office.
Pylor can't help a ~~ pang ~~ of disappointment as he sees that he is doomed to spend the month as a "substitute/spare as required".
Wise Snake: Max, could you assist me for a moment please?
Max thinks that this does not resemble any type of Donor training he has ever seen, but maybe it's a Farris thing.
Max: Certainly, Hajene.
Wise Snake beckons Max to come over near them.
Max moves closer.
Pylor discreetly sets the box with smelly pumpkin aside on a nearby table.
Wise Snake: You aren't in a hurry to get anywhere, are you? [to Max]
Max is pleased that Pylor no longer seems as frightened as before; he would not like to get too close to a panicked First Order Donor.
Max: I am at your service, Hajene Farris.
Wise Snake: Great.
Wise Snake: OK. Now, have a look at this letter. As you can see, it's a request for a team of Firsts to escort some visitors from out of town to inspect the City's Sime Centers. All 38 of them.
Wise Snake: It's addressed to Arat... of course, he wouldn't have received it, it hasn't even been given to the courier yet.
Wise Snake: Does this seem like the sort of request Arat would jump to fill?
Pylor: ....You have private correspondence to Controller Arat which hasn't been sent yet? Stolen from the Diplomatic Office?
Pylor: ~~ horror and outrage ~~
Wise Snake: Excuse me. [to Max]
Wise Snake retrieves the roll of tape, breaks off the loose strip, and applies it over Pylor's mouth.
Wise Snake: Please try to control your nager, there is a Second in the room. [somewhat reprovingly]
Pylor: Grummmmpfh!!!
Max: [distressed] What are you doing!
Wise Snake: Oh... were you listening to that?
Max: He can't breath that way!
Wise Snake: Of course he can. Now, as I was saying.
Max: Hajene, what you are doing is most... unconventional.
Wise Snake: Have you noticed the conventional methods were doing Pylor any good?
Wise Snake rather suspects not.
Pylor tries to figure out which is worse: The indignity of having his mouth taped shut, or the danger that Snake will apply some fiendish punishment if he removes the tape.
Max cannot argue with the fact that Pylor's incompetence has been the talk of the District.
Wise Snake: Now. Since Pylor wouldn't be able to land a decent gig to save his life at this point, I thought it'd be just the thing to snap up this tasty little number and do the honors myself.
Pylor rips the tape from his mouth.
Pylor: Yourself!
Pylor: You can't tell me Controller Arat agreed to that!
Wise Snake: Well, I've always wanted to see the 38 City Sime Centers of Capitol.
Wise Snake: And don't you need the work?
Wise Snake looks at him with one eyebrow quirked.
Wise Snake: Or should I say, the practice?
Pylor is a First Order Donor, after all, however Farris-inadequate, and is therefore starting to feel the effects of being a "spare", with apparently no relief in sight.
Wise Snake: Anyway. [to Max]
Wise Snake: I'm not super familiar with Capitol yet, and I want to do this all on a foot route.
Wise Snake: Is it better to cross 54th at the Jamos bridge or the Corcoran?
Max: Well, I'm new in town myself.
Max: But I just happen to have my orientation packet handy.
Wise Snake: Excellent.
Max turns to his pile of books and papers and extracts the map he was given at his employee orientation.
Max examines the map.
Pylor, of course, has lived in Capitol for some years.
Pylor: It depends on the time of day.
Pylor: Jamos is shorter, but it's congested when the market is in session.
Wise Snake: Obviously speed will be of some importance, since we'll be trying to make it there ahead of dignitaries in a carriage.
Wise Snake zlins Pylor again, estimating his fitness level.
Pylor is reasonably healthy, aside from the physical effects of his ongoing bout of depression.
Pylor is, however, definitely citified, unlike Nick.
Wise Snake, who is comparing him to the condition Rapol and Nick were in after spending months trekking after her in Bender Cove, tsks to herself again.
Wise Snake: Well, it's somewhere to start anyway.
Wise Snake folds the paper and places it in the box with the pumpkin.
Wise Snake: Now, I trust you are aware of the location of Ekwoo Domle's office? In the Diplomatic Wing of the main government building on Hope Way?
Wise Snake: [to Pylor]
Pylor: Of course.
Wise Snake: If not, there is a directory on the first floor.
Wise Snake: Ah, good.
Pylor prides himself on his connections.
Wise Snake: You'll want to get this back there within... [checks the time] ten minutes, if you don't want to create a political incident involving the World Controller's little girl.
Wise Snake: Oh... and it's up to you whether you return the letter or not.
Wise Snake: Of course, we won't have much to do tomorrow if you do.
Wise Snake winks.
Wise Snake claps Max on the shoulder.
Wise Snake: You've been a great help.
Wise Snake: Thank you very much, that will be all.
Max stares at Wise Snake, totally bewildered.
Max: Thank you, Hajene.
Max leaves, thinking that he will make a point to ask his Zeor-raised Donor wife Meg if she has ever heard of a training exercise involving pumpkins.
Wise Snake leaves also, planning on making a few stops before heading back to her supposedly secure cell.
Pylor looks at the rotten pumpkin in the box, considers the distance to Ekwoo's office and the improbability of covering the distance in the allotted ten minutes, and groans.