Sime~Gen Roleplaying: District Controller's Office Scenario
Episode #183: High Emotion (3/27/00)
Ciralan winces as another window gets broken down below.
Ciralan has had more reason than usual lately to be glad that he rates an office on the third floor, out of reach of hand-thrown missiles, even under augmentation.
Ciralan doesn't have a Sime's horror of shattering glass, but even Gens hurt when cut.
Fragga hunkers down under the barrage of flying bottles and bricks hurtling in the direction of the Public Works Building.
Ciralan has not been happy with the attention his department has gotten lately.
Fragga unplugs the cap from her hip flask of porstan and takes a swig.
Fragga does so enjoy a good bar room brawl, but a riot is even better.
Fragga: [shouting] Demons! Corpse-eating sons of Pen dung beetles!
Zader and Darfus roll a huge barrel towards the steps of the Public Works Building, augmenting heavily.
Ciralan winces at the insult, then eyes the barrel with increasing alarm.
Zader is hit on the shoulder by one of the missiles that came in too low.
Fragga grins when the oscillation of his pain sweeps through her field, but she signals to her troops to give the barrel-movers a clear field.
Ciralan can't bear the thought of his plush command being demolished, and decides that Something Must Be Done.
Riyyh rides through Capitol, on a mission to rescue certain Narosian personnel from jail, and perhaps defend them in court. Again.
Ciralan is unfortunately aware that the rest of his staff failed to come to work today, for some reason, and that the police have been proving their inefficacy.
Zader and Darfus quickly position the barrel up-right by the front gate of the building.
Ciralan therefore girds his loins (and the rest of himself, too) and sets off down the stairs.
Riyyh had arrived at Naros thinking it would be relaxing after several weeks traveling with Ali, and been deluged with horror stories about riots and fires in Capitol, and the arrest of Racknie ambrov Naros, among others.
Zader is particularly pleased with himself, as it required a clandestine run over the Territory border to come up with the contents of this particular surprise package.
Fragga is pleased to note that the troops are obeying orders and that her special operatives are working in the clear.
Ciralan arrives at the main doors out of breath from the unaccustomed exercise.
Ciralan looks around for something from which to improvise a white flag of truce.
Zader whips a fire-starter out of his pocket with a flourish.
Riyyh's hope that reports were exaggerated faded upon the sight of smoke rising over the buildings, and even as he picks his way through the more deserted streets, there are signs of vandalism and violence everywhere. Unfortunately, the noises of fresh and active vandalism and violence can be clearly heard, and all of them seem to be centered around the jail.
Zader strikes a match and sets fire to a nice, long fuse.
Zader and Darfus augment like shen back to the barricades.
Riyyh is, of course, unaware that the jail's location is only a center of activity due to its proximity to a certain building belonging to the Department of Public Works.
Ciralan finally settles on a sheaf of pages from the front desk, and steps out the door waving them over his head.
Zader: [shouts] Lats in!
Ciralan: Stop! Don't hurt my building!
Ciralan: ~~ frantically pleading Gen nager ~~
Fragga: [shouts] Heads down! Take cover!
Ciralan: Wha...?
Zader: You idiot! Get the shen out of there!
Ciralan notes a sputtering fuse connected to the barrel.
Ciralan: ~~ YIPES!!! ~~
Zader leaps forward under 10th level augmentation to grab the hapless Gen and push him out of the way.
Ciralan finds himself being carried like a sack of potatoes, which he in fact resembles rather strongly, particularly in the region of his ample waist.
Ciralan grunts at the Sime shoulder pummeling his padding, but under the circumstances doesn't object further.
Zader hurls Ciralan to the floor on a side passage and jumps on top of him, holding him down. The passage walls provide some protection as the barrel of gunpowder ignites.
Riyyh turns the corner onto Judicial Street, some 2 blocks from what appears to be a mob.
Riyyh's horse jerks to a stop as an explosion rocks the street.
Riyyh's eyes widen as he struggles to control the animal. Is it possible that Racknie... no, not every act of impassioned vandalism is Naros' fault.
Fragga smiles with pleasure as the front door and gates of the Public Works Building explodes in a shower of glass, wood and metal confetti.
Ciralan keens with anguish at the noise, as he contemplates what the damage will do to his budget.
Ciralan: You blasted criminals!
Ciralan pushes Zader off of him.
Zader, blasted by the nager of the anguished, impassioned, enraged Gen in his arms, faints dead away.
Riyyh's irrepressible Narosian curiosity, and his natural worry that someone may have been injured, get the better of his more basic instinct to turn and leave.
Ciralan: You belong in jail!
Riyyh turns his horse back and trots toward the angry crowd.
Riyyh doesn't plan on getting too close, mind you. He has a pretty good idea of how much lead a horse needs on an augmenting Sime, from pre-Unity experiences.
Fragga is rather annoyed with Zader for rescuing the fat Gen. A little blood and pain would flavor the ambient nicely.
Ciralan notes Zader's condition and gives him a vicious kick.
Fragga: [sighs with pleasure as she feels the kick] Ah, not bad.
Ciralan's kick doesn't pack the whollop it did during his younger days, but it's not bad for someone of his age and sedentary habits.
Riyyh watches the crowd shrink rapidly, its members funneling into a large, unappealing looking building.
Fragga: Next time he won't play the hero.
Ciralan: Hero!
Ciralan turns to glare at Fragga.
Riyyh rides closer, scanning for anybody who might be injured (and likewise for anybody who is paying him any undue attention).
Ciralan: He's a criminal lunatic and should be caged to die of attrition with the rest of those lorshes who are tearing my department apart!
Riyyh does not zlin anybody he knows, which is a major blessing.
Fragga grins at Ciralan with shark teeth.
Fragga: Ah, your anger is quite exciting.
Fragga eyes Ciralan's rotund belly.
Fragga: You remind me of my second husband.
Ciralan waddles forward, shaking his fist.
Ciralan: I'll teach you what's exciting!
Fragga grins wider. Is this crazed Gen actually going to hit her?
Ciralan slips on the rubble and lands face down.
Fragga knows she should go into the building to supervise the looting, but she is enjoying herself too much.
Fragga basks in the nager of Ciralan's outrage.
Riyyh finally notices Fragga and Ciralan; they stand out better now that the majority of the crowd is indoors (causing faint crashing and tinkling noises) and the rest has gathered around them shouting helpful, but inflammatory, advice.
Ciralan sits up, shaking glass from his mussed hair.
Fragga: Come to Mama, little one. Let's dance.
Riyyh: Oh, dear.
Ciralan snarls and reaches for a larger piece of glass.
Riyyh doesn't think that looks like the sort of situation a person can turn their back on without reading about it in the newspaper the next day.
Fragga holds out her tentacles invitingly.
Riyyh sighs, and urges his horse forward, coming up behind the small crowd that is watching.
Riyyh is not riding Vanity, it is a sturdier horse he took when he learned he had to ride to Capitol immediately upon coming home.
Riyyh: Excuse me. [to Fragga]
Ciralan charges forward, flailing with his shard.
Ciralan: ~~ grief and anger ~~
Riyyh: I don't mean to intrude, but I can't help but notice... oh, my.
Fragga grabs Ciralan with her handling tentacles, forcing him to drop the shard with Sime strength.
Fragga: Naughty, naughty. Shouldn't play with glass.
Riyyh zlins Fragga, gauging her level of need.
Fragga is pre-turnover; she is just enjoying herself.
Ciralan curses as he tries to pull free.
Fragga immobilizes Ciralan to see if that frightens him.
Ciralan would normally have better sense, but he's not thinking too clearly at the moment.
Riyyh frowns, as they ignore him and the people surrounding them only seem to egg them on.
Riyyh thinks none of these people is behaving rationally, and therefore anything could happen.
Ciralan's stamina has decreased as his waist increased, and it doesn't take him long to tire.
Fragga turns Ciralan around and holds him so he can see the looting.
Ciralan starts to cry at the sight of the destruction.
Fragga: Look! This is what we do to lorshes who lie to us!
Ciralan: They're destroying everything!
Fragga: Public servants who don't do their jobs don't deserve such pretty buildings.
Riyyh pushes his horse between the watchers, coming up behind Fragga and Ciralan.
Riyyh: Perhaps you had better leave him alone now.
Riyyh: The police will surely be here at any moment.
Riyyh: If you disperse now, you won't be caught.
Ciralan turns.
Ciralan: You want her to get away?
Ciralan: She's the one who gave the order to blow up my department!
Fragga glances at Riyyh, taking in his Sectuibly presence.
Riyyh: Better that she get away, than you be badly injured, don't you think?
Riyyh is trying to be reasonable, something he often does when nobody is at all interested.
Fragga: Oh, we're waiting for the police. That's when the real fun starts.
Fragga lets Ciralan loose however. Not a good idea to mess with channels.
Riyyh winces. If the demonstrators are willing to blow up buildings and clash with police, things must have gotten much worse since the last reports received at Naros.
Ciralan: Fun? Is that all you care about? Destroying as much as possible?
Fragga: We're the ones who built all this. We can destroy it if we want to.
Riyyh has noticed that many of the people surrounding them are concentrating on Fragga. She seems to be a person of some influence with them. He tries to place her - she does seem familiar, perhaps he has met her at a political event in the past?
Fragga: You wouldn't have a pot to piss in without the labor of the working Sime.
Fragga: And what do we ask in return?
Fragga: Not much.
Fragga: Trust.
Fragga: Security.
Ciralan has nothing but ~~ contempt ~~ for the working Sime, particularly when vandalizing his department.
Fragga: A living.
Ciralan: And you think that destroying the whole city brings security to anyone?
Fragga plays to the crowd.
Fragga: Right?
Riyyh's horse shifts uneasily as shouts rise around them, in agreement with Fragga.
Fragga: We built this city. We can destroy it. We can build it again.
Fragga: [shouts] The choice is yours!
Ciralan: Well, then, I hope you're willing to pay double taxes while you do it.
Ciralan: Because all the damage has to be paid for.
Ciralan: But then, you won't have to worry about it, will you?
Ciralan: You'll be in jail for destroying the buildings that belong to the public.
Fragga: We won't be in jail because we'll tear down the jail! All the jails!
Riyyh thinks it is rather unwise of Ciralan to bait the demonstrators, and thinks about leaving while he still can.
Fragga: [leading the crowd in a chant] We built the jail. We can destroy the jail! We can build it again!
Ciralan: With what?
Ciralan: Who's going to pay for it?
Ciralan: You are, that's who!
Fragga smiles; the stupid Gen is feeding her really good lines.
Ciralan: And the more you destroy, the more it will cost you to rebuild it!
Fragga: We will build it with our hands and our hearts!
Fragga: With the timber we drag from the forest!
Riyyh wonders where Racknie and the others are, and whether they are mixed up with this woman's issues or if they have managed to stay marginally on track this time.
Fragga: With the stones we pull from the earth!
Riyyh supposes the latter would be too much to ask, however.
Riyyh: Please, both of you. Surely there is some more constructive way to make your concerns known. Not this violence, and shouting.
Fragga: We pay as we always pay, with our selves, our bodies, our sweat!
Riyyh has been slowly building a ~~ calming ~~ nager, trying to influence the crowd without being obvious about it.
Fragga is annoyed that the channel has interrupted her grandstand speech.
Ciralan winces as a file cabinet comes flying out a third story window.
Ciralan: I hope you're prepared to go without wages while you rebuild. It looks like your looters have reached Payroll and Records.
Fragga thinks she recognizes the House colors; this must be Sectuib Naros, the boss of that ridiculous Racknie fellow.
Riyyh's horse does a little dance as papers float slowly down around the entire street, like giant snowflakes.
Riyyh pats its neck. Really, it's doing remarkably well, considering the surroundings.
Ciralan: That means that Public Works will no longer be able to issue paychecks until the damage is repaired.
Fragga thinks the message of the riot is written pretty large, but perhaps a Sectuib would be more articulate.
Ciralan: And, of course, it will greatly delay any further work to repair that dam your people have been so concerned about.
Ciralan: Did you think about that, before you destroyed everything?
Fragga: The violence is necessary, Sectuib, to get the attention of the Powers that Be.
Fragga: Nobody listens to workers.
Fragga: We are here to toil and sweat and create things for others to enjoy.
Ciralan snorts in disbelief.
Fragga: But there are problems. Our needs are not met.
Fragga: So we protest.
Ciralan: You're here to destroy everything you can get your tentacles on.
Fragga: Perhaps, if the government would listen to us, this violence would not be necessary.
Ciralan: Listen to what? Random looting? The sound of smashing glass?
Ciralan: That's what you stand for: Random destruction of anything that suits your fancy.
Fragga: When we spoke softly, no one listened.
Riyyh: Please. [to Ciralan] Perhaps there is means for a compromise here.
Riyyh: [to Fragga] Surely you have their attention, now. Perhaps it is time to speak softly once again?
Riyyh: At the right table, words can accomplish nearly anything.
Riyyh speaks from personal experience, although said experiences aren't limited to tables.
Riyyh: [or words, for that matter...]
Fragga: If those in power will listen. If they will answer our questions. Fulfill our requirements.
Riyyh: If you tell them the violence will stop if they meet with you, how can they not listen?
Fragga: The violence will stop when our demands are met.
Fragga: But we are willing to pause for a bit and see if those in authority can be reasonable.
Fragga: You might tell them that.
Riyyh: Oh dear. [to himself]
Ciralan: Prove it! Get those idiots out of the building before they destroy all our ability to meet our current obligations, much less the new ones you want.
Ciralan: Then, perhaps we can discuss your ideas.
Fragga grins.
Fragga: I'm just a simple renSime. Just a tentacle laborer. I'm not sophisticated.
Fragga: So round me up some big shots with the power to do something.
Fragga: And since I don't trust you government stooges, I'll want someone to speak for me.
Fragga: Someone educated. Someone I can trust.
Riyyh definitely doesn't want that job. He's already up to his ass in alligators because of Racknie's activities... whatever they have been.
Riyyh glances nervously in the direction of the jail, which is sitting relatively unmolested up the road.
Fragga glances at Riyyh, sensing his nager curl up like a salted mealworm.
Ciralan: I'll not negotiate with some unkempt radical.
Riyyh is starting to wonder if he brought enough cash for the bail. Unfortunately, there hadn't been an exact number specified, it said only "everything up to and including the shirt off your daddy's back" in the note.
Fragga: [to Riyyh] How about your bigshot channel buddy then?
Riyyh glances at Fragga.
Riyyh: Oh, I could never... that is to say, my political circumstances are none too clean at the moment, you understand....
Riyyh: I don't think I would be of much help to you. [confesses]
Fragga: Controller Arat. He wrote so nice in the paper. He could speak for us.
Riyyh blinks.
Riyyh: Controller Arat Farris?
Ciralan is equally dumbfounded.
Riyyh has heard a lot of crazy ideas set forth by radicals in his time, but none quite that provocatively weird.
Fragga: That's right. People would listen to him, and they say he's fair.
Riyyh: But he's... [tries to think of a delicate way of putting it]
Riyyh: Well, he's not known for his allegiance to, er,
Fragga: [prompts Riyyh] ...the working Sime?
Fragga: Well no one listens to the working Sime.
Fragga: That's why we need a representative.
Riyyh had been going to say, "the people he sees as peasants", and is glad that Fragga found a less insulting phrase.
Riyyh: Well, perhaps under these extreme circumstances....
Zader sets off another barrel of gunpowder, demolishing all the windows on the east wing.
Zader waves out the empty windows as thick black smoke billows upward.
Fragga: Yeah, get him. And your own collection of big shots.
Ciralan had been prepared to reject the idea of negotiating out of hand, but is intrigued by the idea of dealing with Arat instead of Fragga.
Ciralan glares at Zader, then turns on Fragga.
Fragga: And we'll have a little talk.
Riyyh's horse tosses its head high, fortunately missing Riyyh's. It's quivering with nerves, but definitely much calmer than most other beasts would have been under the circumstances. Vanity, for example, would have been perfectly unmanageable within 10 minutes of the edge of town.
Ciralan: But first, you get those hooligans out my building in five minutes, or the only negotiations will be with the police.
Ciralan: Or with the military, when the troops arrive tomorrow morning.
Ciralan: Whatever it takes.
Fragga: Patience, patience, little man.
Ciralan: No, the time for patience is past.
Fragga: They'll leave when the negotiations start. Not before.
Fragga: Think of it as an incentive plan.
Riyyh: Please, be reasonable. [to Ciralan] Neither she, or any one person, could stop them now.
Riyyh: Let the three of us go to the authorities together, and offer to parley.
Riyyh: Leave these people here to do as they will.
Riyyh would actually rather not go with them, or at least he'd rather not show up with them.
Riyyh, however, has to be realistic; they might get into more personal violence if he does not stay near.
Ciralan: I wasn't just grandstanding when I said that if you destroy this building, you will get nothing.
Ciralan: If I don't have a functioning department, it doesn't matter what happens during any negotiations--I won't be able to do anything.
Ciralan: About the dam, or any other project.
Riyyh: There's nothing she can do.
Fragga decides that Riyyh and Ciralan together may have enough clout to start the process she wants.
Fragga zlins that Ciralan is serious.
Fragga: Well, I'll see what I can do.
Fragga: As a gesture of good faith.
Fragga puts two dorsals in her mouth and produces a piercingly loud whistle.
Zader pokes his head out of a window in the south side of the building.
Fragga makes a complex series of gestures with her tentacles, with the meaning "Hold position" in miner's slang.
Zader gestures back.
Fragga: He'll see what he can do to slow them down.
Riyyh's eyes widen as they say "please meet me at my place for dinner and a little humpty-dumpty", and "sure, the house or the barn?" in farmers' slang.
Riyyh hopes he misunderstood.
Fragga: Can't promise anything, of course.
Fragga: Not till negotiations start.
Riyyh has a good deal of experience (most of it unwanted) in the area of civil unrest, and he thinks Fragga is being rather overly optimistic about how easy it will be to get people to stop now that they're started.
Riyyh naturally hopes that negotiations will stop everything, he just isn't too optimistic on that score.
Riyyh: All right, then.
Riyyh: Shall we go to... [his eyes skip over the prison] ... well, how about the City Controller's office?
Riyyh: Or do the two of you have another preference?
Fragga has confidence that discipline will hold in her organization, but of course Ciralan won't zlin when she's lying.
Ciralan winces as two more windows go.
Fragga thinks of course the channel will; need to dump this Householder quickly and get our chosen representative.
Fragga: That sounds like a plan.
Riyyh is pretty sure he can handle the City Controller, although she may be a bit miffed at not having received a letter from him in over 2 months.
Riyyh thinks she may have a few choice things to say to him about Racknie too, come to think of it.
Riyyh bites his lip.
Riyyh: Very well.
Zader pushes a sadly undisciplined rioter out a window; the Sime augments, twisting in the air like a cat to land on his feet.
Ciralan hopes the police show quickly, and clear what's left of his building while there is still some hope of salvaging the records.
Riyyh turns his horse away from the still-smoking building, apologizing to one person whose foot almost gets stepped on.
Riyyh thinks he will never live it down, when he has to go home and admit to Rachel that this unstylish and lumpish nag proved the perfect mount for his trip.
Fragga nudges Riyyh and Ciralan through the rubble towards the City Controller's office.
see note 1
Seruffin has retreated to his office to make some decisions about how to handle the current crisis.
Seruffin is, of course, well aware that crises are by definition more or less unhandleable.
Seruffin is therefore more than a little relieved when his appointment shows up, exactly on time, as usual.
Seruffin hopes that this appointment will assist in his current task.
Arat signals at Seruffin's door.
Seruffin: Enter!
Seruffin is already pouring tea.
Arat enters.
Arat's nager is as transparently inscrutable as usual, but his Farris features betray an uncharacteristic excitement barely under the surface.
Arat's also actively controlling what wants to be a continual adrenaline rush.
Seruffin pushes one teacup across his desk in Arat's general direction.
Arat: Controller Seruffin.
Seruffin: Sit down, sit down.
Arat: Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.
Arat sits down.
Seruffin nods.
Seruffin: I hear that there is hope that the riots can be ended.
Arat: There is. That is what I came to speak to you about.
Arat had assumed that Seruffin will have had advance warning of this, but it will be easier if he hasn't.
Arat: They've asked me to negotiate.
Seruffin's face and nager firm with displeasure at this confirmation.
Seruffin: That could be... awkward.
Seruffin: For you, for me, and for the Tecton.
Arat looks down, hiding a hint of anxiety at this reaction.
Arat: I know.
Arat: But it's an important opportunity.
Seruffin: You know there are those who have never accepted that you are not trying to follow in your parents' footsteps.
Seruffin: This would convince many of them that their worst fears are true.
Arat knows this is very true. It's a terrible gamble.
Arat: Then you think I should refuse?
Seruffin: What are the chances that they could be persuaded to accept someone else?
Arat spreads his hands.
Arat: I can't know, without having spoken to them directly.
Seruffin considers.
Arat: But... I don't think I would have been told of this, if it wasn't a serious situation.
Arat quoth the understatement of the century.
Seruffin: Very serious. Five deaths from fire and injury in the past day and a half. Not to mention injuries and property damage.
Arat: As you'll see in my report, the emergency wards have been seriously overloaded. [confirms]
Seruffin: And because of that, and to prevent more damage, I won't forbid you to do this.
Seruffin is not particularly happy with the necessity.
Arat looks up again, meeting Seruffin's eyes with a curiously intense and sincere look.
Seruffin: I'll protect you if I can, but I might not be able to do much.
Seruffin: You're likely to lose your Controllership, if there are too many objections.
Arat: I... that had occurred to me. [admits] But there is a solution.
Seruffin: Yes?
Seruffin has worked with Farris channels before, and easily recognizes the Impassioned Martyr syndrome.
Arat: If the negotiation is successful, assign me to the Snake River Dam project as selyn movement Controller.
Seruffin's jaw drops at this totally unexpected degree of martyrdom.
Seruffin: Snake River? Arat, have you ever worked at a construction site? Or deep in the wilderness, for that matter?
Arat's expression flickers.
Arat: No.
Seruffin is well aware of Arat's inexperience in these areas, of course, having full access to his file.
Arat: But it will prevent the accusations.
Seruffin: It might at that.
Seruffin: But if you take such a position, you'd be stuck with it until the dam is built. That could be years.
Seruffin is all in favor of anything that will gain control of the current situation, but is too basically honest to let Arat shoot down his career without fair warning.
Arat looks suitably sober. That is, indeed, the sticky part of this plan. He has no desire to go to Snake River, and he particularly doesn't want to be stuck there for years. But he doesn't want to swim circles in a barrel being followed by the tip of Neptude's shotgun, either.
Arat: Something could be worked out, later.
Arat: I admit I don't like the idea myself, but it would be worth it to end the violence.
Seruffin: It might be a long time before the suspicions die down enough that you could take another position.
Seruffin: But if you are willing, I won't forbid it.
Seruffin: Because you're right; somehow, these riots have to be stopped.
Arat: I have not yet decided. I wanted to hear your opinion first.
Arat: I will decide tonight, if I can.
Seruffin nods.
Seruffin: It's not a decision to be made lightly.
Arat will, as a matter of fact, spend the night being yelled at by Jeniard, who despite his very strong public show of support for Arat, thinks this entire plan is dangerous lunacy.
Arat: No, it isn't.
Arat: I appreciate your taking the time to speak with me about it.
Seruffin: If you decide to do this, let me know if there is any support you require from my office, or if you encounter difficulties with other departments.
Arat: Thank you.
Arat's nager loosens for a moment, revealing a hint of genuine ~ gratitude ~.
Seruffin smiles.
Seruffin: It's the least I can do, under the circumstances.
Seruffin might be inclined to do considerably more, of course, if he knew all the relevant circumstances.
Arat: And now, I must return. Wise Snake and I are required in the emergency room.
Arat rises.
Seruffin: Be careful on the streets.
Arat departs.
Seruffin stares after Arat, wondering whether he has committed to solving a short-term problem, only to create a long-term one.
Notes:
1) Some time passes between these two scenes, possibly several hours or a day. [return]