Sime~Gen Roleplaying on IRC: Snake River Dam Scenario
Episode #86: Moose Sandwich and Crow Hors d'Oeuvres (12/14/00)
Nick enters the Narosian bathhouse, looking around cautiously for the hazards which tend to accompany an enthusiastic but somewhat amateur (in spots) construction effort.
Nick doubts, for instance, that the murals would have been painted on the walls before the pools were tiled, if the place were being built by a commercial contractor.
Nick has to admit that the life-sized painted trees and bushes do add a nice touch to the atmosphere, however.
Nick steps to one side of the door, so as not to get in the way of people carrying supplies back and forth, and looks around for Riyyh.
Riyyh comes out of the great pool room, carrying some wood stain samples.
Riyyh is dressed in his "work" clothes which means more embroidery than jewelry (barely) and his hair partially in braids instead of 100% loose.
Riyyh: Oh, hello Nick. [smiles]
Riyyh has become accustomed to seeing Nick around the bath house more and more as the actual bath part comes nearer and nearer completion.
Riyyh: However did Arat persuade you to leave him at this time of month?
Nick: Jeniard is with him. Actually, it's on his behalf that I'm here.
Nick looks more serious than usual, when visiting his... progenitor.
Nick: We have a... somewhat awkward request to make.
Nick: ~~ moderate embarrassment ~~
Riyyh's eyebrows raise.
Riyyh: Anything for you, Nick.
Riyyh smiles.
Riyyh is just a generous type of guy.
Nick hopes that Riyyh doesn't regret his generosity.
Nick: I am afraid that we have had a slight problem with the plumbing, at our lodgings.
Riyyh looks puzzled.
Riyyh: But there is no plumbing at your lodgings. [kindly]
Riyyh means this in the nicest way, of course.
Riyyh does not like to be blunt about such things, but it is true. They have no plumbing.
Riyyh's eyes widen as he realizes Nick may be referring to the makeshift shower.
Riyyh: Not the shower?
Nick: I'm afraid so.
Riyyh would have preferred an arrangement that did not require heating one's own water first, and lifting buckets of it overhead into the makeshift cistern for the shower, and so forth, but after all it is the only real shower on the construction site.
Riyyh: How unfortunate.
Riyyh appears truly sincere.
Nick: The drain has been working very slowly lately--you may have noticed.
Nick might be glorifying the pipe leading to the edge of the cliff with this term, but it is the closest thing to a drain this side of the Dam.
Nick: Jeniard had it cleaned out this morning, but the plumber was late, and Arat arrived just as she was removing a large wad of hair.
Nick: He noticed that a large number of the hairs were silver.
Nick looks pointedly at Riyyh's mane.
Riyyh: Oh, dear.
Nick: We managed to pass them off as being from a former tenant, but if they reappear....
Riyyh: Well, fortunately the first of the bath pools should be usable within the next two weeks.
Riyyh tries to hide his disappointment at the news.
Nick: I am sorry, but I'm afraid that it is no longer practical for you to shower at our place.
Nick: Your boiler here is working properly, isn't it?
Riyyh: Yes, yes, of course. [kindly]
Riyyh knows that everybody has been very concerned about the condition of the boiler ever since the incident where Racknie... but I digress.
Nick looks relieved.
Nick: Then you won't be completely deprived.
Riyyh: I will be fine, Nick. [smiles and places a reassuring hand on Nick's wrist]
Riyyh is not only putting his hand there because Nick's Farris grade field is at maximum strength. No siree. Riyyh puts his hand on everybody's wrist.
Nick's nager ~~ warms ~~ at the contact. He doesn't get much of that sort of thing from Arat or Snake, and he enjoys it 75% as much as Riyyh.
Riyyh becomes a bit giddy at the change in Nick's nager.
Riyyh: ~~intil~~
Riyyh: Er... Ali dear! [calling into the other room]
Riyyh removes his hand apologetically.
Riyyh: Your nager is... well, it's simply marvellous, as I'm sure you know.
Nick: I am sorry.
Nick adjusts his nager so that it warms without tempting.
Riyyh looks anxiously around for his Companion. He'd last seen him showing one of the construction worker volunteers the "best" way to lay river stones on the pool walls.
Riyyh: I hope that Arat wasn't too upset.
Riyyh fears that his hair in the drain may be the reason why Nick is not with Arat right now.
Riyyh: He didn't... send you away, did he?
Riyyh: [a bit plaintively]
Nick: Jeniard persuaded him to let me take a short break, so that I could discover what progress has been made with the encampment for the Gens.
Nick: He will be fine for a short period.
Riyyh: I see.
Riyyh has to take Nick's word on that, as he wouldn't be able to zlin whether Nick was being truthful or not.
Riyyh would rather think of Arat as OK and not angry and not missing his Donor anyway.
Nick: Since I'm here, how is the Gen encampment progressing?
Riyyh: Well, we have secured an agreement for the funding, and though the funds are still in transition some progress has been made toward gathering the required materials.
Riyyh: It will all have to be shipped at once to take advantage of the free shipping, of course.
Nick nods.
Nick: Has there been any progress in persuading the illegal Gens to actually live in the camp, once it is operational?
Nick has had a rather different view of the effort since Riyyh pointed out that it actually would technically be a Pen.
Riyyh: Well, we haven't really been able to collect many yet, [explains]
Riyyh: After all, we knew it would take a long time to detain them all and that is why we opted for a camp here instead of deporting them en masse.
Riyyh: And of course it will take some time to build the camp, by which time some of those currently imprisoned by IDAS may have already been released as citizens.
Nick: I suppose it's just as well. There aren't supplies on hand to feed a great many. Still, with a few to act as an example, perhaps the others will be easier to persuade.
Nick starts edging towards the door, now that he has enough information to convince a need-distracted Arat that the situation is more or less in hand, or at least, not a complete disaster yet.
Riyyh: Yes, yes, I hope so.
Riyyh: Er... it was nice seeing you! [as Nick and Nick's nager start to leave]
Nick waves, and ducks out the door, intent on returning to his channel's side.
Riyyh: Oh, my.
Riyyh turns to go find Ali.
Edka huddles next to the campfire beside his tent, hands wrapped around a steaming coffee cup.
Edka has a high tolerance for caffeine, which is probably fortunate.
Storm: [A clopping of hooves, then a scream:] Damnit, Moose, Move! I promise, you'll get a nice hot blanket soon. Or whenever soon is.
Storm: [A snow-covered figure rides toward Edka and the tents. It is obvious through the snow the clothes the figure wears are Gen Army.]
Storm: Sergeant Edka? They told me you were down here. [brushing back the snow, wry grey eyes looking at the group around the campfire.] Name's Storm. Anyone know where Edka is?
Edka gets to his feet.
Edka: I'm Sergeant Edka.
Storm: Well, finally! I hate this part of the job. I've got some messages for you from the brass. And some mail, too, for your men.
Elte comes trudging through the snow on the track of the mules, bundled up as snugly as a Gen can be.
Edka looks reprovingly at Storm.
Moose, Storm's mule, makes as to bite Edka. Storm pulls the reins away, clicking his tongue.
Edka: A bit less complaining might get you more choice of position, Private.
Edka holds out his hand for the packet.
Storm: You've got a lot of letters, Sarge. Here's your part of it. [puts the huge packet in Edka's hand]
Storm: Anyone here named... hmm... I can't make out the last name. HT? Sure smells good, too. [smiles]
Elte's got a tip that someone who looked like an Army courier had entered the camp.
Edka has been wiping the bottoms of green young privates for some 35 years.
Edka therefore feels he is entitled to a bit more respect than being called "Sarge" by a man young enough to be his son.
Edka: HT, see to the mail call.
Elte always has to be the first to hear any sort of news.
Edka starts to sort through his mail.
Storm: God, this snow is awful. The passes are almost all closed. Barely got through Bastard Pass before it closed. [sighs] If you're planning on heading out that way, sir, forget it. The snow was up to my knees... and do you have any coffee?
Elte trudges in the wake of the hoof-prints, which have at least partially cut through the deep snowdrifts.
Elte's breast is, however, aflame with curiosity under all the layers of wooly stuff.
Edka dutifully starts with the letters from Headquarters.
Elte tracks the newcomers in the directions of the Demolition squad quarters.
Edka notes that the demands that he return -- with his unused inventory -- have not been lessened by his previous report on the dearth of transportation.
Storm hands the rest of the mail to HT, winking at him as Storm hands over the vanilla scented letter.
Elte scents the delightful odor of well-boiled coffee wafting on the breeze.
Edka has started seriously debating the notion of just setting off the remaining explosives, thus relieving himself of inventory and allowing his men to go home on the regularly scheduled ferry.
Storm: Sir, I'm supposed to stay with you. [sighs] I can't go back through the passes, and, well... are there any ferries working?
Elte takes in the scene of the weary courier on the mule talking to Sergeant Edka, while the soldiers distribute letters.
Elte had wondered if Edka was ever going to get back to Headquarters.
Storm: Would someone please get me some coffee?!? It was cold up in those mountains!
Edka gestures for one of his crew to bring Storm some coffee.
Moose spies Elte, and seems to lick its lips in anticipation. Surely her rider wouldn't mind her biting a reporter....
Edka: There's a ferry twice a week, to Salmonton. At least in decent weather.
Elte: [gaily] And if you'll pour a cup for me I've got something tasty to enrich the flavor!
Elte has been raiding Mr. Birch's private stock again.
Storm leans down to take a cup of coffee from a soldier. "Oh, thanks!" He takes a sip, then a longer one.
Elte works his hip flask loose from under his wool layers.
Elte: Try a taste of this, soldier.
Storm: Decent weather? There's supposed to be a storm coming in, soon. The forecasters could be wrong, through. I did leave two weeks ago.
Elte holds out the hip flask to sweeten Storm's cup of coffee.
Edka: Two weeks!
Storm: "Thanks!" Storm leans down so Elte can pour in Birch's stock.
Elte dilutes the black as mud coffee with premium brandy.
Edka is no longer surprised at the tone of the carping from Headquarters: if his own reply was suffering a similar delay, it wouldn't have reached them at the time the messages were written.
Edka holds his own cup out to Elte for a shot.
Storm: Yeah. I was supposed to make it here in a week, but... the snow got real bad. Some places, its' up to about 10 inches or so. I'm surprised the river haven't frozen over yet.
Elte pours a generous dollop into Edka's cup.
Elte is pleased to buy his way into the inner circle so cheaply.
Edka: It will, before long.
Edka: ~~ grim ~~
Elte pulls back his hood a bit, to free his ears which may get red but are very sharp.
Storm: Well, if you can, get over soon. That storm--it's supposed to come in with really low temperatures. Enough to freeze over a river. Look, sir... are we leaving any time soon? Because....
Edka: If you had trouble getting through with courier mules, we'd never make it with the kind of loads we'd have to carry.
Storm desperately wishes for a warm room, a nice hot bath, and for Moose to quit looking at Elte like he was a sugar cube.
Elte notices the mule staring at him and stares back.
Edka: And there appears to be a remarkable dearth of dog sleds available.
Edka thinks that he should never have let Mr. Birch sucker him into staying so long, no matter his orders and professional pride in finishing his assigned job.
Elte: Didn't Birch promise you that you wouldn't have to winter here?
Edka hadn't known, of course, that neither the ferry nor any of the fishing boats would permit explosives on board.
Storm: "Dog sleds? I don't think I want to know, sir." Storm shifts in his saddle.
Elte thinks that soon they will be cut off alone here in the wilderness; man against the elements; human will against the inexorable cold and the arrogant pines.
Moose is just thinking about how nice the reporter's behind looks... and just as Elte is sermonizing to himself, Moose bites him.
Elte: Yhehow!
Edka chuckles at the sight.
Elte is startled but the mule's teeth can't really penetrate his cold-insulated rear.
Storm: "Damnit! Moose!" Storm kicks the stubborn mule's flank. "Just how many times did I tell you not to do that?!"
Elte turns to the offending animal.
Elte: Hey, don't tear the material!
Edka: Storm, get that ornery beast over to the picket line and give it some hay, before it decides to have us all for lunch.
Elte: You got a lively one there, soldier!
Storm: Sure, sir. But where is the picket line? And could you help me off? I don't think I can move.
Elte wonders what would happen if Moose were to encounter Arat. He shudders.
Edka gestures for two of him men to lift Storm off the mule -- and for two more to hold the beast's head while they do it.
Edka is, of course, long since inured to the sort of language that accompanies the exercise.
Elte wonders if he should pour a bit of the brandy into the mule's feed. Would that sweeten his disposition at all?
Storm is very, very happy to get off. Moose swings her head around to look at him, and lets Storm be.
Elte decides to save that experiment for when he has a barrel of the stuff, not just a hip flask.
Edka notes that Storm is having a bit of difficulty standing.
Edka: You're half frozen.
Storm: Yes, I am. Let's put it this way: remember all those passes? No place to stay for the night most of the time, and after Bastard Pass, no more Shrines.
Edka: Norb, you and Erl see to the mule while he thaws out a bit.
Elte: So how'd you be the lucky one to draw this posting, soldier? What's your name, anyway?
Storm: Name? Pvt. Storm. [tries to salute, but can't get his hand up to do it.] And as for why? It's my job. Full time courier.
Elte: Elte Andover here. Ever seen a more God-forsaken wilderness than this?
Storm: Anywhere there is snow, it's a wilderness, sir.
Elte: Well, with a name like Storm, you ought to be right at home in it.
Moose can be heard munching happily on hay. Storm smiles, sickly. "My mother, she was from Norwest. You know, when it collapsed. She fled to our Territory, and well, she had to pick a new name. A storm was going on that day....
Storm holds out his hand. "My name's Pvt. Daniel Storm. But call me Storm. Please. Call me Daniel, and I'll be thinking its my mother." He thinks. "Or my drill sergeant."
Elte shakes Storm's frozen appendage.
Elte: Hey, you got to get thawed out here.
Storm: Storm nods and withdraws his frozen hand. He drinks some more of the coffee, which is promptly filled by another soldier. Storm nods his thanks.
Elte: Come drop by my tent sometime, Daniel, if you want another nip and we'll talk about our world travels.
Edka notes this offer with some trepidation, and makes a mental note to take the private aside later and educate him on the dangers of uncontrolled press coverage in general, and Elte Andover in particular.
Elte: So, gentlemen, what's the news from New Washington?
Storm is not about to talk to this guy. Not only did Moose bite this Elte, Elte called him Daniel after Storm asked him not to.
Storm: News? General Swift's wife finally got caught. Remember that spoke legged guy? That's him. [smiles inwardly. Should get this one's goat.]
Storm drinks some more coffee.
Elte knows when his leg is being pulled.
Elte grins.
Elte: Oh, I thought it was the one with the hump back.
Storm: No, it was the spoke legged one. Zack Cullen, I think his name was. Got caught in middle of a meeting--they were under the table, going at it, when Swift and the others came in.... [nods] Sir, if you got any bitchy messages from Swift, that's why.
Bony Dog wanders up to where the men are talking.
Bony Dog sniffs Storm's leg.
Elte actually knows of six other guys she got it on with.
Storm gently nudges the dog away. He doesn't want urine to be yet one more thing to worry about.
Bony Dog starts to lift its leg, then has to abort mission when Storm nudges it off balance.
Storm tosses it a bit of jerky from his belt bag to make sure it stays away.
Bony Dog eats the jerky.
Edka waves at the dog.
Edka: Hai! Shoo!
Bony Dog gives Edka a mournful look, and hobbles away.
Bony Dog perfected the pathetic hobble back when it was younger and lived in a much nicer place.
Storm: Sir? Is there anything I need to do? I didn't go through Customs down at Westfield--they just shoved the mail in my arms, told me where you were, and shoved me off.
Storm's body is starting to limber up, and he's very happy. It means he'll soon feel his fingers.
Crow lands on the peak of the nearest tent and mutters to itself.
Edka: Well, if they really want to inspect HT's coffee beans, I suppose they can come here and ask them.
Edka: They did give you a valid travel visa, didn't they?
Elte glances at the crow and wonders if its mutterings mean anything?
Crow: I likes the little pink ones. The littlest ones. So pink, so tender.
Crow snickers self-satisfiedly to itself.
Crow: Some likes the eyes, I used to like a pretty blue eye now and then, but the pink small tentacles are really the better portion, don't you think?
Crow knows they can't understand it.
Elte has learned a lot of human languages; he wishes he knew the animal ones.
Storm: Travel visa? The brass, you know, told me to come down here, give you the mail, then go home with you. They didn't mention anything about a travel visa. [looks suspicious] I've never been In Territory before. I've been everywhere Out-T, but In? Never.
Edka sighs, foreseeing a trip to the IDAS, which is having more than enough problems of its own.
Edka reflects that at least he doesn't have anything else to do, with the blasting shut down.
Crow cocks its head, inspecting the forearms of the men standing below.
Crow: Tut tut. [disappointed]
Edka: You did at least find time to donate before heading out here?
Elte stares at the crow; something about it is vaguely disquieting.
Storm: I'm supposed to have a travel visa, aren't I? That explains why the brass told me to get my tail back as fast as possible. [looks angry, then startled by Edka's comment] Donate? No....
Crow: An eye is not so poor a meal. Not so poor, indeed, on a snowy day. [reflects]
Edka: Well, we can take care of that easily enough. You'll have a much easier time convincing the IDAS that you're present in good faith if you're low field.
Elte: Oh, they're real sticklers about that!
Crow cranes its neck to watch Elte's eyes, until his sudden exclamation causes him to turn away.
Storm: Oh shit. I only donate once a year, on Faith Day. Can't be that bad, now can it? [looks worried, then sighs]
Edka: It isn't any different doing it on Faith Day or any other day.
Edka ought to know, as he was a participant in the original Faith Day.
Storm: Well, then. That's good. [looks dubiously at Edka] Do I have to do it now?
Crow paces along the spine of the tent, mantling and folding its wings.
Elte: That Hajene Roliver tracked me all the way out to Sand Hill camp when I forgot my appointment.
Edka: Well, you can have another cup of coffee first.
Crow: Kill!! Kill!! Kill!! [caws suddenly]
Elte glances up, startled by the fierce note in the cry.
Storm: No, might as well get it over with. Come with me?
Elte finds his fists bunching up.
Storm shudders as he finally notices the crow. "Mama used to tell me crows were bad luck. Crow on the cradle, your life'll be complicated."
Crow strops its beak on the edge of the tent.
Elte: I don't like that bird.
Crow natters to itself.
Elte had a nightmare about something like that. He can't exactly remember.
Elte wishes he had his rifle.
Elte shoves the uneasy feeling aside.
Edka: It's just a bird. Can't hurt you none.
Elte nods, but there is a superstitious place in him that isn't sure that's true.
Edka has spent much of his life chasing after and working with things capable of inflicting fatal injury, and he knows that birds aren't on that list.
Storm: Sir, if you don't mind, I'd like to have Elte show me where... the channels are. You'll need time to look over the letters. That OK, sir?
Crow takes off, flapping heavily just over the tops of the tents and disappearing from view.
Edka decides that the dangers of too much talking are less than the dangers of having Elte think he's trying to hide something.
Elte: Storm, I'd be happy to show you around.
Edka: That's fine. I'll see that you have some tent space for your bedroll when you return.
Storm: Thanks. The sooner this is over with, the better it is. And, uh, stay out of Moose's reach. She bites. If she does, punch her.
Storm: "In the nose. It really seems to help" Storm assurates Edka. He does not want to be thought of as cruel to animals. But it really does help.
Elte gestures to Storm, indicating the direction of the Tecton's collection station.
Elte: I donated just the other day. There's really nothing to it.
Storm: I know. [looks at Elte] I donate once a year, but really... you know.
Elte raises his eyebrows.
Elte: Know what?
Storm starts walking towards the collection station. He turns and looks at Elte. "I told you. My mother was in Norwest when it collapsed. The things she would tell me...." Storm shakes his head. "Turn your hair white."
Elte nods.
Elte: Yeah. That was bad.
Storm: It's just a little, well, unsettling going to Simes.
Elte: My family's from Norwest too.
Elte: They never would talk about what happened there.
Storm: Really? Mama was from Sattle. Where were your family?
Storm: Maybe that's a good thing, Mr. Andover. From what Mama told me, you really don't want to know.
Elte: They'd whisper about it, but it was all a big secret to us kids.
Elte: Some little village up in the mountains.
Storm: "In the mountains? Good places to hide, there." Storm tries the door to the collection station. "Is this it?"
Elte: Yeah, this is the place. Let's see who's on duty today.
Elte opens the door to the rough wooden building used as a Collectorium. Some care has been taken to try to insulate it better than most of the shacks.
Elte holds the door open for Storm.
Storm enters, looking around him. "Warm... not bad." Water starts dripping off his army greens and onto the floor.
Wise Snake is sitting in the collectorium chamber with her seat on a chair and her feet on the high part of a transfer lounge.
Wise Snake is picking her teeth with a hunting knife and looking through some confidential files.
Wise Snake: Multiple personalities. Really. Huh.
Wise Snake flips a few more pages.
Storm quietly wrings out his scarf, wishing for the hundredth time his mother could have picked any color but this funny magenta color. But it does keep him warm..
Storm: Miss? Umm..I'm Pvt. Storm. Just came in....
Wise Snake: Nothing like a little privacy is there?
Wise Snake sets the papers aside, removes her feet from the bench and stands.
Wise Snake: You should signal next time.
Wise Snake: Paperwork?
Elte: Hajene Wise Snake! Got a client for you here.
Wise Snake holds out her hand to Storm.
Wise Snake looks at her hand to see if there is anything wrong with it.
Wise Snake: No papers?
Storm steps back. His eyes widen. "I... I... signal? What signal? First the fucking brass don't give me a travel visa, then I end up wandering through the snow here. I'm here to donate! Then I'm getting out!
Wise Snake 's eyebrows quirk up toward her bushy hairline.
Storm is truly alarmed. The hunting knife didn't help any. As did the mention of paperwork. "I just arrived!"
Wise Snake notices Storm's attention on the knife and sheaths it.
Wise Snake: Sure thing, buddy.
Elte: He's a little nervous, as I guess you can zlin.
Wise Snake: Y-ah.
Wise Snake: [wryly]
Wise Snake: OK... first of all, I don't eat soldiers for lunch, no matter what they told you.
Wise Snake: Also, you don't have to donate, so long as your get your lily livered butt out of Sime Territory within twenty-four hours.
Wise Snake's tone is mock stern.
Elte finds Wise Snakes eccentricities refreshing, although he can understand why some other people might be disconcerted by them.
Storm: "Nervous? Nervous don't even start to cover it, sister!" Storm is really wishing he'd taken Edka's advice and had a nice night's sleep. Instead, he's wound up from nights in the mountains. He absentmindedly wrings out more water.
Wise Snake shakes her head.
Wise Snake: Well, he can't donate in this condition. Take him away and bring him back when he's ready.
Wise Snake: Better yet, send him home before he gets himself in trouble.
Wise Snake sincerely hopes that the average Gen Army soldier isn't quite this easily spooked.
Elte: Snake, he can't leave that fast. The roads are snowed in.
Wise Snake: Ten inches of snow? [exasperated]
Elte: Hey, Storm, get a grip on yourself. Or you'll just have to come back tomorrow.
Storm: "Hey, Hajene Wise Snake? I wish. I really, really wish I could go home. But I can't, not until Sgt. Edka does, thanks to that cuckolded Swift." He looks at Wise Snake. "Look, I've been in the mountains the last two weeks. I'm not happy about this, but I know I need to do this. Either that or have Moose bite that shit Swift."
Wise Snake files away the description of Swift. She has a good memory for that sort of detail. Comes in handy later.
Storm takes off his coat, making more puddles of water on the floor. "Got a coat rack?"
Wise Snake opens her mouth to ask what a moose has to do with any of this, then decides she'd rather not know.
Wise Snake: Whatever.
Wise Snake: You're going to have to calm down, though. I
Wise Snake: I'm not going to bronco bust today.
Elte takes charge of Storm's coat.
Wise Snake: I'm going to take it nice and easy this afternoon, so I'm all rested up when the exposure victims start rolling in tonight.
Wise Snake laces her fingers and tentacles together and cracks her knuckles.
Wise Snake: Sit here... [indicates transfer lounge]
Wise Snake: No border papers?
Elte watches Storm's agitation and anger, perplexed.
Storm quirks a brow at her. He is a exposure victim, or at least close to it. He sits where Wise Snake tells him to.
Wise Snake: I didn't realize feeling sorry for oneself was acceptable practice in the military.
Wise Snake sits on her own half of the couch and begins to fill out some blank forms.
Storm: Border papers? Is that the same thing as a travel visa? This's my army identity papers if that helps.
Wise Snake: Thanks.
Wise Snake takes the papers. She begins to translate everything from Genlan to Simelan.
Elte lies the dripping coat down on one of the wooden benches in the waiting room.
Wise Snake translates "Daniel Storm" to "Daniel Tempertantrum", and so forth.
Wise Snake: And you intend to stay, or go?
Storm, curious, looks at what Wise Snake is putting down on the papers and laughs when he sees what she has written.
Storm: "Stay." ~~determination~~
Wise Snake: Uh-huh.
Wise Snake: You'll be donating monthly then.
Storm shrugs. "Mama was from Norwest."
Elte leans back against the wall, watching the play of emotions in Storm and Wise Snake's faces.
Wise Snake stops writing and looks up at Storm oddly.
Wise Snake: You want to stay permanently?
Storm: And I'm going home when Sgt. Edka does.
Wise Snake: Ah.
Wise Snake wonders what that bit about his mother was all about.
Wise Snake shrugs and finishes filling in what parts of the form she can.
Wise Snake: I'd strongly suggest you go back to the border point and obtain some legitimate paperwork before too long.
Elte notices that, although the knife was a rather menacing touch, Wise Snake today is lacking the green-stained lips she sported on their first meeting. The hair is just as snaky, though.
Wise Snake: IDAS is cracking down on illegal Gens.
Elte laughs.
Storm: "I plan to. Unfortunately, I can't leave until Edka does... because of Swift." Storm scowls. That wife of Swift has made them all suffer.
Wise Snake: Ummmh.
Wise Snake puts the papers aside.
Wise Snake: Let's see your hands. Can you roll up your sleeves for me?
Elte: Yeah, you'll want those papers. Wouldn't even let a CoP Minister cross the border without 'em.
Storm: "Sure."
Storm rolls up his sleeves. He has the typical Gen arms. Storm looks at Elte somehow oddly.
Elte: It's the news of the week. The Immigration Service tossed the Minister of Salmonton in the pokey.
Wise Snake: Yeah, yeah. Um, Elte, don't let the door hit you on the way to the waiting room.
Wise Snake: It closes kind of fast if you give it a tug.
Elte was hoping he could stay and watch; he is curious, as usual.
Elte: Don't you think Storm could use me here for, like, moral support?
Wise Snake: No. [firmly]
Storm is not looking forward to this, and is grateful Wise Snake told Elte to get out.
Wise Snake: You'll destroy my concentration, and that could get someone hurt.
Wise Snake isn't talking about Storm, either.
Elte is rather hurt; he thought his Simelan etiquette was improving.
Elte: Oh, all right.
Wise Snake doesn't care if Elte is hurt; people don't watch other people's transfers, particularly when the Farris in charge is sans Donor.
Elte retreats to the waiting room, his high spirits somewhat dampened (but still not as wet as Storm's coat)
Wise Snake waits until the door is tightly closed, then turns back to Storm with a somewhat different manner.
Wise Snake seems less abrupt now.
Wise Snake: You got any prayers or anything you have to make in advance?
Wise Snake: Been getting a lot of CoP folks in recently.
Storm: No. I'm not exactly Church of Purity. I get enough of that shit from other privates. I already got my will made out, if that's what you're asking." [Storm smiles at Wise Snake]
Wise Snake takes hold of his arms in a strong, muscular grip. A lot like all the other channels.
Wise Snake: Nope... just asking if you're ready.
Wise Snake makes a 3rd contact before he can say anything else.
Wise Snake hates it when they babble.
Wise Snake lets him go after a moment.
Wise Snake: There you go, all done.
Wise Snake: Here's a towel.
Storm shakes himself off, splattering more water onto the lounge. "Thanks." He looks up at Wise Snake. "I was going to say go ahead when you kissed me." He shrugs, then smiles. "Worth it to get a kiss from an interesting woman."
Wise Snake looks at him oddly.
Wise Snake thinks if he thinks that was a kiss, then he has had some pretty crappy kissing girlfriends.
Wise Snake: Huh.
Wise Snake shrugs and grabs the forms, finishes filling them in with Storm's numbers.
Wise Snake hands him a pay stub and a receipt.
Wise Snake: You'll want to keep track of those. For the next few hours you can claim you came here just to donate.
Storm gets up, sighs as he sees more water seep out from under his pants. "You might want to get someone with a mop into here. Wish I could really dry out before I go back to Edka's.
Wise Snake looks at the floor, which has been tramped upon by dozens of snowy feeted Simes and Gens already today, and snorts.
Wise Snake: Dream on, buddy.
Wise Snake: You aren't going to see dry -- or a mop -- until you're back home.
Wise Snake: Have a nice day....
Storm's eyes widen with surprise when he sees the amount of money on the pay stub. "I did come here to donate, you know. Had to---Sgt. said it would make IDAS happy. And since the brass got me into this mess...."
Wise Snake: Remember, that's yours by Sime Territory law.
Wise Snake: Don't give it to Edka unless you want to.
Wise Snake gets up and opens the door in the hopes that it will entice him outward.
Storm: "It is? Why is there so much money here? This is more than I make as a private in the Army."
Wise Snake: A Sime will live for a month because of that.
Wise Snake: Technically, more than one Sime. The Donation process is very efficient.
Wise Snake: That's worth a lot.
Storm: Storm shrugs again. "I'm sure it is. Thanks, ma'am." He starts to walk through the door.
Elte grins.
Wise Snake watches patiently, adding a little wave with her other hand.
Wise Snake thinks, spare me the OT Gen fear/giddiness cycle.
Elte: I see you survived the ordeal, Private Storm.
Storm doesn't see Wise Snake's wave; he's now focused on getting back to Edka and Moose before Edka decides to punch Moose out.
Go on to Episode #87: Glass Houses
Return to the Index of Episodes