Sime~Gen Roleplaying on IRC: Snake River Dam Scenario
Episode #58: So Shoot Me (10/26/00)
Nick is kneeling on the floor of Arat's office, going through a stack of reports in a makeshift box-cum-filing cabinet, in search of an old report Arat wanted to see.
Nick is trying his best to find an acceptable compromise between speed and not going right past his goal without realizing it.
Nick is hampered in his search by his clerical inexperience: as a relative newcomer to Tecton bureaucracy, he still finds that all reports look much the same to him.
Nick confidently discards a report on supplies, and one on disease management.
Nick's eyes brighten as he finds one on selyn-flow figures, then another.
Nick double-checks to make sure which one covers the time period of interest, then brings it over to Arat's desk.
Elte trots in the direction of the Sime Shack, the heavy apparatus in his hands balancing the heavy pack on his back. He also balances a box on his head.
Elte hates to make two trips when one will do.
Nick: Here it is. Donations taken on site for the past four months.
Arat takes the report from Nick, giving him a curt nod in the way of thanks.
Arat is not in a good mood.
Nick is careful to keep his sigh to himself.
Elte thinks it is time he picked up an assistant from among the ragged unemployed and very available labor pool.
Arat opens the report and scans it, comparing it with the figures he'd memorized.
Nick wishes that Arat would stop sulking every time someone refuses to leave the instant the order is given.
Elte arrives at the door to the Controllers office. Burdened as he is, knocking is impossible, so he yodels instead.
Elte: Yoohoo! Anybody home?
Nick looks at the door, a bit surprised by the unconventional signal.
Nick does go to open the door, however.
Nick: Elte!
Arat winces, as he knows he must accommodate the journalist's wishes to remain out of Mr. Birch's bad book.
Arat is not in a very accommodating mood today.
Nick blinks at the array of packages the other Gen is toting.
Nick: Do you want me to give you a hand with some of that?
Nick reaches for the box teetering on Elte's head.
Elte: Sure! This one on top is for you, complements of Mr. Birch and the Mayor of Salmonton!
Arat had hemmed and waffled and finally allowed Jeniard to make an appointment for the procedure.
Nick: Really?
Nick takes the box with considerable enthusiasm.
Elte: Yeah. The books you asked for?
Nick wishes Elte hadn't mentioned them in front of Arat, but supposes that was too much too ask for.
Elte twists his head back and forth, trying to get the kinks out.
Nick: Thank you for bringing them over.
Nick: Come in. Would you like some tea?
Nick steps back to admit Elte, with a welcoming smile that is fully 75% as hospitable as Riyyh's.
Elte wonders at the literary selection; "The History of Human Civilization Parts I - VI" is pretty heavy going, and he is not sure "Purity in Thought, Word and Deed" will be agreeable reading for any in-T citizen.
Nick figures that any hospitality that Elte is likely to get today will have to come from him, as Arat is showing no signs of it.
Elte: Certainly. Thank you.
Elte props his suede-wrapped camera and tripod against the wall.
Elte loosens the ties of his backpack and lowers it to the ground with a sigh of relief.
Arat delays over the paperwork as long as he can, and then gives Elte a brief nod to acknowledge his presence.
Nick hurries over to the tea table, placing the box of books discreetly out of sight under it, then assembling glasses.
Arat notices Nick's receipt of the books, but does not go so far as to read the titles.
Nick keeps up a steady ~~ support ~~ as he makes the tea, knowing Elte's tendency to indulge in enthusiasms.
Nick is pretty sure that Arat isn't in the mood for Gen enthusiasm today.
Elte notes that Nick seems a bit more formal today than usual, and that Arat has barely acknowledged his presence.
Elte: Good morning, Controller Arat!
Elte catches a whiff of the trin leaves and finds his mouth watering; he is beginning to acquire a taste for the Sime stuff.
Nick: Is Lilac Passion all right?
Nick: I also have Rose Delight and, hmm, Dellin's Delight.
Elte: Certainly.
Elte: Who was Dellin?
Nick: Err, one of my....
Nick tries to get the genetics right, and gives up: neither Simelan nor English has words for "person who shares a common father and grandfather, but a different grandmother".
Nick: ...um, relatives.
Nick: A son of Riyyh's.
Nick decides not to get into the grandparents issue; besides, he's not sure that Dellin's grandmother wasn't also related to Riyyh, somehow.
Elte figures anything involving Narosian relations is on his investigative to do list.
Elte: Hmmm.... I'll try that one then. See what's so delightful.
Nick in fact has good reason to suspect that the Narosians of Riyyh's own generation also have tangled family trees.
Nick: Certainly.
Nick measures Dellin's Delight into two cups, and plain (if premium) tea into a third.
Nick adds water, and brings one of the cups to Elte.
Nick: Here you are. Dellin's Delight.
Nick picks up the remaining two cups, and returns to Arat's side with them.
Nick places the cup of plain trin in the particular spot where the draft will waft the odor into Arat's nostrils, then takes a sip of Dellin's creation.
Arat grimly picks up his tea and takes the requisite initial sip.
Nick lets himself feel ~~ quiet enjoyment ~~ of his tea.
Elte savors the aroma of the tea and gingerly takes a sip.
Elte: Ummm. This is good.
Nick wonders if he's really tasting a hint of ginger.
Nick decides that he'd better ensure that Elte doesn't outstay his welcome, such as it is.
Nick: Jeniard said you wanted to take some pictures of Arat's new robes?
Elte: That's right. Now that you've had a chance to try them, how are they working out?
Nick decides that Arat really ought to answer that one himself, and so takes another sip from his tea.
Arat eyes Elte, his theoretical savior and practical tormentor.
Arat: It will require some adjustment.
Arat doesn't mean measurement-wise, he means concept-wise.
Arat is of course speaking from his own point of view; he can't speak for the OT Gens who are supposed to be impressed by it.
Nick thinks, not least on the part of the security guards and other in-Territory staff, who have shown a distinct tendency to stare, then run quickly behind the nearest insulation.
Elte: Ah, what changes are required?
Arat had meant some mental adjustment, not physical adjustment.
Arat frowns.
Elte just has that can-do attitude.
Arat has spent some time attempting to formulate the right wording for his complaint.
Arat: It appears ridiculous to in-Territory personnel.
Elte is disappointed.
Elte: That's very serious indeed.
Nick is frankly very glad that he had a chance to look the garments over before Arat saw them, and make sure that Jeniard did the same, otherwise there would have been major trouble at the start.
Elte: What aspects of the design offend in-Territory sensibilities?
Arat looks pointedly at Nick.
Arat: Nick, perhaps you would be so kind as to explain.
Arat noticed Nick had the same reaction.
Nick ponders how to put it tactfully.
Nick: That robe looks dignified enough, by itself, but in combination with the mask...
Elte: Yes, masks are always a disturbing element.
Nick: It's not just that Arat's face isn't bare--the veil didn't look funny to me at all.
Nick: But that particular style of mask makes him look like the philandering husband in the joke about... well, never mind.
Nick shrugs..
Elte: ~~all attention~~
Arat's expression grows even more sour as Nick goes on.
Elte: That's certainly not acceptable.
Elte thinks.
Nick: Are the robes sufficiently dignified that we could go back to the veil?
Nick noticed that the veil offered additional protection to Arat's eyes, beyond that offered by the surgical mask.
Elte: Probably. Without the hood, the veil looked like a style used out-Territory for brides at their weddings.
Elte: If we use a sheer veil and tuck the edges under the hood, it will create an entirely different impression.
Nick: Arat, would a sheer veil offer enough protection?
Arat: It must block particles the size of the dust particles on the construction site.
Elte frowns.
Elte: We could use cotton, but silk would be stronger and thinner.
Nick: It's available in a tighter weave, too, I think.
Elte is aware of a process that can render silk almost invisible, as demonstrated by the wardrobe of his lady friend in Canabar... but I digress.
Elte: And can it be manufactured Farris-safe?
Nick: Yes, with care. Fortunately, silk is very inert, if nothing is done to it.
Nick: Perfumes are particularly dangerous.
Elte: Well, back to the drawing board. A pity.
Elte: I had hoped to shoot some photographs of the "new Arat" today.
Elte: Perhaps we could proceed without the veil, Controller, if you are feeling well enough?
Arat hesitates, and then nods.
Arat will see it through, in order to maintain the current level of not-so-hostile relations with Mr. Birch.
Nick once more contains a sigh of relief, and goes to fetch the robe.
Elte steps forward and peers at Arat's face intently, searching for signs of watering eyes or a leaking proboscis.
Nick checks the robe carefully for allergens that might have been picked up on the way over to the Shack this morning, then nods and returns.
Arat appears exhausted, irritated, runny-nosed and red eyed. He also has an interesting bright red and sharply delineated rash on his neck. In other words, he's looking pretty good.
Nick holds the robe for Arat to get into.
Arat ignores Elte's peering and stands, allowing Nick to put the robe on him, then helping when it's most of the way on.
Arat will at least put up the pretense of dressing himself when in front of company.
Elte frowns, but accepts that in his current state the subject is as photogenic as he is likely to get.
Elte is relieved that the robe will cover up the rash, at least.
Elte: Nick, is there any such thing as Farris-safe make-up?
Nick frowns.
Nick: Makeup? I don't know of any Farris who wears it.
Nick of course knows only two Farris channels well.
Elte: Is charcoal dangerous? Or flour?
Arat adjusts the lay of the robe across his shoulders.
Elte has been known to improvise when necessary.
Nick: Flour would have him choking in half a second.
Nick: I don't know about charcoal, specifically, but it would be an unnecessary risk.
Elte remembers Snake's rather deft maneuvers avoiding his cigar smoke.
Elte: Well, I guess we will have to go with the antihistamines, then. My apologies for the inconvenience.
Elte: But you mustn't look as if you're crying.
Nick frowns, then brings over a half dose of the mildest Farris-safe antihistamine.
Nick would really prefer to keep the drugs for critical situations, but PR might come under that heading, more's the pity.
Arat looks disapproving, but he takes the antihistamines from Nick and washes them down with the now-cooling tea without making any complaints.
Arat is determined to get this over with.
Elte rearranges Arat's hood, steps back, and nods approvingly. It covers a multitude of flaws.
Elte sees that the flowing robe also hides the channel's skeletal build.
Arat's naturally severe and forbidding expression goes well with the judge's raiments.
Elte: Now first I'll want to take a few portrait shots, but then I'd like to show you in your role as the decision-maker here.
Elte: Perhaps a shot consulting with some of your aides, or in conference with other officials.
Elte: If there is someone in particular you'd like to be seen with, please send for that person.
Arat: Nick is not sufficient?
Elte: It would be best to show you consulting with some out-Territory official. I alerted Mr. Birch that we might require his presence, if that would be acceptable.
Nick isn't so sure that it's a good thing to have Mr. Birch in Arat's office, given his cigar habit. Even if he can be persuaded not to actually use one inside, the smoke clings to his clothes.
Nick: Perhaps Sayward would be a better choice?
Arat thinks Sayward hardly qualifies as an "official" even in Gen Territory.
Elte: Either would convey the message of cross-territorial co-operation.
Elte: Including Mr. Birch would show you have influence at the highest levels of management.
Arat also is none too pleased with Sayward after the flapjacks incident.
Elte: Including Mz. Sayward would convey involvement in the nitty-gritty of the project implementation.
Arat suspects that Sayward would not be particularly thrilled at being called off the job site to play photo model for that matter.
Elte: Actually, it might be best to have them both here.
Elte likes to have lots of options.
Arat: As you say. [curious blend of tense and indifferent; the latter is what he is attempting to convey]
Nick steps to the door to send a messenger for Mr. Birch and Sayward.
Elte begins unwrapping his camera and its stand. He brought the big box today, with the high quality photographic plates.
Elte adjusts the drapes at the window. The sun is streaming in brightly, just right to create the strong, harsh contrasts that will accentuate Arat's gaunt features.
Arat, temporarily abandoned by his tormentors, sits in the Mayor's chair and tries to finish a bit more of his perusal of the old report.
Elte repositions the Mayor's chair (with Arat in it) so that the light falls on it more advantageously.
Nick watches with as much concentration as supporting Arat allows, while Elte takes a series of portrait shots.
Mr. Birch swaggers into the Sime Shack, dressed in his most elegant official duds.
Mr. Birch has taken much care with the arrangement of his sideburns and the positioning of his necktie.
Mr. Birch glances behind him to be sure Sayward is following; the woman has always been a bit camera-shy.
Sayward follows Marty Birch into the Sime Shack. She has been trying to brush the dirt out of her hair. She got caught when the wind suddenly changed and blew the blast debris right into her face. She has managed to get almost all of it brushed out. No one has seen her hair down except Cris.
Elte focuses his total attention on Arat. He snaps another shot as the Sime's eyes glance towards the door opening.
Elte wishes his subject were a bit more enthusiastic, but steely endurance will suit his purposes.
Mr. Birch: [heartily] How goes it, Controller Arat? Not too painful, hey?
Nick quickly checks to see that Mr. Birch is not puffing toxic smoke.
Mr. Birch is not smoking, but his toilet has included cologne.
Nick's nose twitches with alarm.
Nick is rather an expert on cologne, after being Riyyh's Companion for months.
Sayward remembers her last visit to the office. This time Arat would be less likely to run off.
Sayward thinks well, at least she had a chance to get into a clean shirt. Now she just has to wrestle her hair back into plaits. This wouldn't be a problem if she had cut it to her usual shoulder length but now it was almost to her waist.
Nick: Mr. Birch, is there any way you could wash some of that cologne off?
Elte, focusing through the lens, sees the tear-drop start to form in Arat's eye at the same moment the scent of pines wafts his way.
Nick: It's rather strong.
Nick tries to look and sound apologetic, while zlinning properly supportive.
Elte comes alert like a hunting hound on point.
Arat's throat tickles with increasing persistence as the cologne finds its way into his sinuses.
Arat holds his pose stoically, something he has more experience at than most people realize.
Elte: Marty, what did I tell you! Get rid of that blasted stuff!
Nick hurries to the tea table, pours hot water onto a clean towel, and hands it to Mr. Birch.
Mr. Birch: But--
Nick: Here, wipe it off quickly, before Arat starts choking.
Elte: This isn't a beauty pageant.
Elte: Go wash off in the stream if you have to.
Elte glances at Sayward.
Elte: You look great, Miz Sayward, with your hair down like that.
Sayward looks up in horror.
Mr. Birch takes the bowl Nick offers him and begins mopping off, crestfallen.
Sayward: Uh, uh I don't wear it down it gets in the way.
Elte: But it looks very thick, very free!
Elte grins at her.
Arat listens to this interchange and is glad OT military men's idea of macho manhood is unlikely to include thick, free long hair.
Arat avoids looking at Sayward.
Sayward: It, uh, I don't want... I'll be finished braiding it in a moment.
Nick thinks that if Elte likes loose, long hair, it's just as well that he hasn't yet managed to barge in when Arat is taking a shower--or worse yet, has just finished one.
Elte thinks Sayward looks like quite a hunk of woman with her hair down.
Sayward manages to get her fingers tangled in her own hair. This is not going well.
Elte: Want me to give you a hand with that?
Sayward: Uh, no, I can manage.
Elte: Don't be shy.
Sayward is trying to mange but she needs a good strong comb.
Elte pulls a large comb out of his backpack, along with various other hair-management implements. He always comes prepared.
Elte: Now hold still.
Sayward has been this flustered since she was a teenager. Of course she hasn't let her hair down since then either.
Sayward: Okay [she resigns herself to her fate.]
Elte works on the braid with gusto. He had four sisters, so he has had lots of practice.
Nick notes Elte's imprecise but enthusiastic technique.
Elte notices the smudge of dirt on Sayward's cheek and decides to leave that. It is a nice touch; very gritty and realistic.
Mr. Birch finishes scrubbing himself down. He tugs at his tie and cuffs, hoping they have not been dislodged in the process.
Elte: Miz Sayward, you look marvelous! Please put on your hard hat.
Sayward does as she is told. She has never had a man comb and braid her hair before. This has been a weird day.
Sayward thinks her father would not approve.
Elte: Marty, that tie is fine, but you might want to touch up with some powder. There's a bit of a shine on your nose.
Nick sneaks a peek at Mr. Birch's nose, but it looks normal enough to him.
Elte hopes a bit of pancake makeup from several feet away won't inflame Arat's allergies any further.
Nick is perhaps more used to seeing abnormal noses than most, particularly when it comes to redness, running, rashes and other such problems.
Elte glances inquiringly at Nick.
Elte would ask Arat, but the channel has becoming more and more distant as the session has proceeded.
Nick is only 75% as handsome as his sire/grandsire, but that is still much more photogenic than average.
Nick: Well, can you apply it outside?
Elte figures Nick would warn him Arat was getting ill; he has come to know Arat well enough to realize the channel hates to admit to any physical discomfort whatever.
Elte: Sure! Come on, Marty! Out we go.
Elte grabs up the jar of pancake makeup and the comb.
Sayward starts to wonder if Elte has any such plans for her. She is relieved to see his attention focused on Marty.
Nick takes the opportunity to do a little very unmacho, mother-hennish hovering over his channel.
Sayward: So, Nick did you ever get breakfast the other day?
Mr. Birch lets himself be dragged outside. He has been subjected to press interviews before, and lets himself be managed with unusual docility.
Nick: Actually, I didn't.
Sayward: Well I did try. [looks meaningfully at Arat]
Nick leaves out a great many details about how angry Arat was that Nick had not been more emphatic in ejecting Sayward and the flapjacks.
Nick: Yes.
Sayward: Tell you what why don't you join me tomorrow morning about 5:30?
Nick: Perhaps. I'll have to see.
Nick is in fact pretty sure that Arat would not be happy about such a visit.
Elte anoints Mr Birch's nose with the make-up, brushes his hair and straightens his lapels.
Sayward: I've managed to get Cris to eat breakfast everyday now. She is doing much better.
Elte: Okay, Marty, now you're ready for action!
Nick: Simes do require good nutrition.
Elte leads Mr Birch back inside.
Sayward: You would think that would be pretty obvious. Do most Simes take such poor care of themselves?
Nick smiles.
Nick: Oh, no. A lot of Simes are much worse.
Sayward: I don't know why they aren't all dead from malnutrition or something.
Elte drags a chair near Arat and positions Mr. Birch in it.
Nick sniffs carefully to determine the success of the cologne-removal, then allows this.
Mr. Birch is practically in Arat's lap. He smiles at the Controller uncomfortably.
Nick could have told Mr. Birch that it is perfectly safe to sit in Arat's lap, although he wouldn't recommend doing so with Riyyh.
Elte: Now, Sayward, go stand at Marty's side. Right there, with the window on your right.
Sayward positions herself as ordered.
Nick has not, of course, abandoned his position behind Arat.
Elte: Okay, now I'd like you all to have a conversation.
Nick: A conversation?
Nick had thought that they were conversing.
Sayward almost laughs. Conversation he says.
Elte: A meeting. About something earth-shattering.
Elte grins and pulls a collection of small mirrors from his backpack.
Sayward can think of several things none of which would make for a good picture.
Nick's standards of "conversation" are of course set to Farris standards, where everyday conversation among familiars is carried out largely with frowns and signals, with a few stock phrases such as "I'm not hungry".
Elte: How about the selyn crisis? Or the work schedules?
Sayward looks to Marty for something.
Nick leans dutifully over Arat's shoulder and points at the old report on the desk.
Mr. Birch knows how to perform on cue when it is called for.
Mr. Birch: Hmmmm. Sayward, how are you coming along with rounding up those Gen stragglers? Come up with a plan yet?
Sayward: I approached Sectuib Riyyh. He is willing to help but it is a large job with not enough time on our side.
Nick is glad that Riyyh agreed to help, after seeing how angry Mr. Birch was after Sergeant Edka refused.
Sayward is trying not to get depressed about it again. She wishes now more than ever that Starlin had kept his post with SWAT.
Mr. Birch: Oh, excellent! What kind of assistance can he offer?
Elte darts about the room, artfully placing mirrors to redirect light where needed to illuminate shadowed areas.
Nick winces as reflected sunlight hits his eyes.
Sayward: He says he will have his people assist in rounding up as many as possible before the snows.
Elte returns to his position behind the camera.
Sayward: Controller Arat, is there anything that your people can do to assist?
Elte begins to snap photographs of the tableau.
Nick notes that Arat does not seem inclined to answer this question.
Nick: The Tecton staff are quite busy with selyn maintenance, but we will certainly discuss the issue with every unemployed out-Territory Gen who comes in to donate.
Sayward notices that Arat is not forthcoming with an answer. Poor fellow must be overcome by all the attention.
Elte likes the compassionate look in Sayward's eyes and the implacable set to Arat's lips.
Elte does, however, require a bit more animation on the part of his principal subject.
Sayward: Well, any help you give us will be appreciated. Thank you, Nick.
Sayward thinks a lot of the problem will be self solving with the solution becoming evident only after the spring thaw.
Elte: Controller, you wish to convey the impression of being in charge. Perhaps you could explain the Tecton's relocation incentive plan for the camera?
Elte is discouraged by the lack of response, but he knew Arat would not be an easy subject.
see note 1
Notes:
1) This scene was not finished. [return]
Go on to Episode #59: Must Have Been Quite a Party
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