Sime~Gen Roleplaying: District Controller's Office Scenario
Episode #142: In His Lair (1/27/00)
Nick makes his way to Arat's office after his duties in the burn ward are done.
Nick is not about to take "go away" for an answer, this time.
Nick pauses before the door, considers, then signals.
Nick frowns as Jeniard fails to open the door.
Nick bites his lip, then steadies his nager and opens the door, exercising his privilege as Arat's Donor.
Arat is sitting at his desk watching the door open.
Arat is staring reproachfully at it and the fellow opening it.
Nick enters the office, no longer surprised at having to open the door when he realizes that Jeniard is not present.
Nick checks Arat's condition carefully as he moves closer and offers ~~ support ~~
Nick: Are you all right?
Arat: Nick, what are you doing here?
Arat's voice doesn't come out as angrily as he'd planned, as his body at least is glad to see Nick.
Arat: [or, more to the point, zlin him]
Nick: You're my channel. Do you think I'd just desert you?
Nick pulls the Donor's chair closer to Arat and sits down.
Arat just looks at Nick.
Nick in fact hadn't even paused to change out of his Tecton uniform before coming to check on Arat.
Nick: Arat, I'm your Donor, not your enemy.
Nick puts a hand on Arat's arm.
Arat flinches slightly, not because there is anything wrong with Nick's touch, but because he was so tense to begin with.
Nick pulls his hand back at the flinch.
Nick: Arat, I'm not going to hurt you.
Arat nods.
Arat: I know.
Nick tries to ~~ soothe ~~ Arat's tension.
Arat: It just... isn't the same.
Nick sighs.
Nick: Arat, believe me, I didn't enjoy listening to Pylor snipe at you any more than you did.
Nick: The man is a whining, bigoted, lorsh who would rather blame anybody else for his problems than admit that he causes them himself.
Nick: I'd never have allowed it, if the alternative wasn't worse.
Nick's nager is not so controlled that the truthfulness of his statements are not plainly zlinnable.
Arat looks away from Nick, trying to think of a way to tell him that this problem isn't anything that can be solved by words.
Nick: Do you remember at the party, when I went to get more refreshments? I was gone for ten minutes, and when I got back, you asked me why I was so upset?
Arat nods once.
Nick: I said I'd tell you later.
Nick: I overheard Neptude talking to a woman I didn't recognize. About Pylor, and you.
Arat's dark eyes flick back to Nick.
Nick: He was saying that eventually, you and Pylor would manage to settle your differences, as long as you weren't given any other option.
Arat is not too surprised; that is in line with Neptude's actions over the past months.
Nick: He hasn't given up, Arat. Oh, he mentioned that he'd have to take some precautions--I don't think he'll make the mistake of not having a backup Donor for you.
Nick: But as soon as he thinks Pylor is ready, he'll assign that lorsh to you again.
Nick: And if Pylor hasn't make his peace with you, it will be a disaster.
Arat folds his hands carefully together and deliberately avoids dwelling on that too closely.
Nick's voice quavers a bit at the thought.
Arat: I realize you had your reasons for doing what you did.
Nick: Arat, I know Snake ambushed you. That's the way she is; she didn't consult me or Pylor, either.
Nick: But when I saw what she was doing--do you understand that I had to take the chance that it might help?
Arat: I know you made a decision you thought was best.
Arat does not have the words to describe what it is that had existed before, that was so unique and precious, and how it was severed, and how irreplaceable it might prove.
Arat's most powerful emotions seem dormant now, compared to before, but he can still feel the break between them.
Arat: I....
Arat: It has been many years since I could trust a Donor fully.
Nick: I know. And coming without warning, it must have felt like I'd thrown you to Pylor's mercy.
Nick's nager shows ~~ guilt and remorse ~~
Arat: It wasn't Pylor. It was Wise Snake.
Arat: You looked to her for direction.
Arat: Pylor simply... took advantage of the situation.
Arat's tone hints at the disparaging, although he knows the scene was due as much to his own weakness as Pylor's vitriol.
Arat knows nothing would have happened at all if he had refused to let Pylor speak of it, but he had succumbed to the lack of psychological support.
Arat is not proud of this aspect of himself, the leaning, but it is something he is very familiar with as it's been with him since his changeover.
Arat should have left the room immediately when he realized what was happening.
Arat naturally feels more defensive as he thinks about this, and it shows as anger externally.
Arat scowls.
Nick automatically steps up his ~~ support ~~ in response.
Arat: Nick, I... I thought there was something between us that really couldn't be. It could not have lasted in any case.
Arat: You shall not be held responsible for what is acknowledged to be a problem of mine.
Arat thinks, unless the Powers that Be reverse nearly two decades of precedence on the subject.
Arat: I tried to make you stay away because....
Arat stops, unable to say it: Because he hoped it wasn't ruined, and he had hoped to find it in himself to forget what happened.
Nick: Arat, if I had seen any other way out, for any of us, I wouldn't have gone along with Snake's idea. But I could let the chance that it might help go by, when the alternative was to let Pylor have you, as he is.
Arat nods.
Arat is clearly not very happy.
Arat: I do not challenge your logic.
Nick: It... wasn't exactly logical. Not really.
Nick: All I knew was that my channel was in danger.
Nick has never developed the clinical detachment that might allow a Donor with more Tecton tenure to waive responsibility in such situations.
Arat thinks it is ironic that Nick still doesn't comprehend what was lost, and how it was lost - Donor instinct or no.
Arat looks down at his desk top, knowing that further attempts to explain will lead to more of Nick insisting that he was doing the right thing, that he was being protective.
Arat does not think that there is any point to putting Nick through that, since what is done is done.
Arat simply can't feel that implicit trust that used to be there, any more.
Arat: Whatever your motives were, nobody will fault your decision.
Arat: And I should not have treated you as I did afterward. I... apologize.
Nick's nager warms.
Arat finds it difficult to apologize, but the part about taking all the blame himself comes naturally to a Farris. It's part of the self-denial complex.
Nick: And I apologize for withdrawing my support.
Arat: I hope you will understand that it cannot be the same again.
Nick: I know. However my motives are judged by others, you were depending on me for something that I couldn't allow myself to provide.
Arat thinks back on all that had gone before between them - his attempts to lead Nick into his own social circles, and his utter lack of ability to convince him to join the Tecton - and thinks perhaps that it never was the way Arat had hoped it would be, and it is just the illusion that is gone.
Arat glances at Nick.
Nick: And that hurts.
Arat doesn't think it feels like pain.
Nick is, of course, careful to keep the ~~ bittersweet ~~ tinge of his nager from becoming overwhelming.
Arat thinks it feels like an uneven sidewalk, that can never be trusted not to trip one.
Arat's entire lifelong experience with Donors can pretty much be summed up by that analogy taken to an extreme.
see note 1
Pylor tiptoes furtively down the hall towards Arat's office, bending over as if to conceal something.
Pylor had waited around the corner until he heard Arat and Jeniard leave the office.
Pylor shoots one more glance up and down the hall, listening carefully, then scuttles through the office door.
Pylor tiptoes towards Arat's desk, knowing that things will look very bad if Arat should happen to return just now.
Pylor pulls something out from under his shirt, then levitates two feet as the handle of the office door turns.
Pylor: ~~ yeow! ~~
Arat takes one stride into his office, and then freezes.
Pylor whirls to face Arat.
Jeniard avoids running into Arat only because of Sime reflexes.
Pylor: ~~ caught in the act ~~
Pylor: Ccccontroller Arat!
Pylor does not, alas, have a career as a castrati, despite how it might sound.
Jeniard hesitates for only an instant, and then steps quickly forward to block Pylor from Arat.
Arat stares at Pylor with a typical Aratly expression of disbelieving anger.
Jeniard, though primarily interested in protecting Arat from Pylor, has enough practice at the opposite to jump in before Arat gets a chance to recover.
Jeniard: What are you doing here?
Jeniard: [to Pylor]
Pylor essays a smile. Alas, he's a lousy actor, as well.
Pylor: I was....
Jeniard is holding two plates with two sandwiches in his hands, which explains why their lunch break was only 4 minutes long instead of the recommended 1/2 hour.
Arat fixes a burning, no-nonsense stare on Pylor.
Pylor gulps, and reluctantly offers for inspection what was hidden under his shirt: A slightly battered, cheap frame with an equally cheap facsimile of a historical document.
Pylor: It didn't seem right to keep it, when you said that it was your father who threw it away.
Pylor: ~~ defensive ~~
Pylor has been nerving himself up to this for days, and it shows.
Arat's expression changes to one of incredulity.
Arat's mind boggles as the image of Pylor keeping the kiddie award all those years joins the equally preposterous images of Pylor wading through the dumpster in search of it and Pylor holding a grudge all these years because of it.
Jeniard decides that it is safe to go to the tea counter and get the water started, which will also let him put down the sandwiches.
Arat not only doesn't own anything from his childhood, he doesn't own anything from the intervening years either. He is basically a one trick pony specializing in working for the Tecton. Er, make that one trick Farris thoroughbred.
Pylor's hand starts to shake a bit at Arat's continued silence, causing the picture frame to wobble.
Pylor is fortunately not trying to read the text at the moment, as the shaking makes the print seem even more blurred than it actually is.
Arat finally categorizes the phenomenon under "those erratic things that people are always doing that don't make any sense, but which must be logged as very important to them" (such as getting married, and buying houses, and buying furniture).
Arat then has to decide how to respond to this.
Arat does not want that cheap piece of junk.
Arat has well and truly matured beyond the age of ten years old, when the award had been symbolic of a good number of important struggles in his life, now all irrelevant.
Arat however has gotten to know Pylor's peculiarities rather well in the past months, and is certain that refusing it would only provoke a negative reaction.
Arat, perhaps more importantly, senses that dragging this out will prevent Jeniard from accosting him with that sandwich before he has to go back on shift.
Arat: [well, perhaps less importantly but perhaps more compellingly]
Arat finally manages to get a lock on his expression and moderate it to something a bit less ferocious.
Arat: You... kept it.
Arat succeeds in sounding simply surprised, rather than surprised and dismayed.
Arat tries to picture a person travelling from Sime Center to Sime Center in the life of an adult Donor and packing that particular item carefully along with each time, and frankly is unable to do so.
Arat is genuinely dumbfounded.
Pylor's control has improved under Snake's less-than-gentle tutelage, but he is still unable to hide his ~~ relief ~~ at Arat's relatively nonaggressive response.
Pylor: Yes.
Pylor carefully brushes a bit of shirt lint off the wavy glass.
Pylor then holds it back out to Arat.
Pylor: But it's yours.
Arat reaches slowly for it, understandably reluctant.
Arat almost takes it, but then at the last minute withdraws his hand.
Arat: I cannot accept that.
Arat: That you have kept it all this time demonstrates that it meant more to you, long term, than it did to me. You should keep it.
Pylor disciplines a twinge of relief.
Pylor: But you won it.
Pylor can't quite bring himself to add "fair and square", even now.
Pylor is, however, making a genuine attempt to put the incident behind him at last.
Arat: I did. But my reasons for doing so are buried in the past.
Arat had done it in a desperate attempt to please a world full of angry adults who are now mostly, as it happens, actually buried.
Arat had not meant his words quite so literally, though.
Pylor has always been curious about this particular point.
Pylor: I wanted to win to be a part of the new order, but your parents raised you to be an enemy of the Tecton.
Pylor: I've always wondered why you tried so hard.
Pylor has spent a lot of time during the past few days in soul-searching, which has finally forced him to admit that Arat did work for the prize, at least in comparison to their classmates.
Arat: It may not have seemed so from the outside, but my childhood was a difficult one. Because my parents and the Tecton constantly struggled for custody of me, I was forced to attempt to please both parties. In that case, I thought that the teachers would respect me if I did well, and that my parents would respect me for telling the truth in my essay.
Arat: As it happens, it only succeeded on one front.
Arat: My parents were never easy to please.
Pylor smiles wryly.
Arat: But, [adds significantly] I always try my hardest in everything I do.
Jeniard does too, at least when it comes to Arat.
Pylor: Your parents were Audnes. And you're very like them, at times.
Pylor: The same look, the same... attitude towards others, particularly those who are part of your staff.
Pylor: I think it comes from knowing your family.
Pylor: ~~ thoughtful ~~
Arat regards Pylor with wary suspicion, not sure where he is going with this.
Pylor: Apart from my parents, I don't have one, really.
Pylor: At least, they'd stopped speaking to my parents long before I was born.
Pylor: They didn't approve of the Tecton any more than your parents.
Arat nods.
Arat was carefully taught the craft of leadership of the loyal villagers, including Pylor's extended family.
Arat in fact still retains fairly close ties, in politics and otherwise, to the original families of what is now New Othwol - including those descended from Pylor's ancestors.
Arat's actual level of interference has recently been limited by the long distances imposed by his frustrating assignment to Capitol, though.
Arat is not unaware that the assignment to Capitol was made at least 50% for that very reason.
Pylor's nager has become much more bearable during the discussion.
Pylor is not offering support, of course, which disguises the worst deficiencies, but there is also significantly less hate and pent-up resentment.
Pylor looks down at the picture frame one more time.
Pylor: Well, I'm sure you want time to finish your lunch before you go on duty. If you're sure...?
Pylor makes himself offer the childhood memento one more time.
Arat gestures for Pylor to keep it. And yes, he's very sure.
Pylor: Then I'll leave you to it.
Pylor leaves the office, in a much more relaxed fashion than he entered it.
Arat turns to stare after him, wearing a puzzled expression.
Jeniard, who had been lurking quietly over by the tea counter and didn't miss a single word, suddenly chuckles.
Arat turns his head sharply, wondering what is supposed to be so funny.
Jeniard smiles in apology.
Jeniard: It's just... the picture of Pylor of all people, climbing through the Audnes trash heap.
Jeniard: I have to laugh every time I think of it!
Arat holds his stern expression for a moment, and then softens somewhat.
Arat: I hadn't expected that either. [confesses]
Jeniard takes advantage of the unguarded moment and steps forward decisively carrying the two plates and a pot of hot tea.
Notes:
1) Some time passes between these two scenes. [return]