Sime~Gen Roleplaying on IRC: Snake River Dam Scenario
Episode #132: What's Eating You? (3/1/01)
Sylma has finally managed to take care of the most pressing cases at the infirmary, and is ready to take a well-earned break while her Donor has lunch.
Sylma has managed to get out of having lunch herself, by promising not to put up any resistance to eating a full dinner.
Sylma is, however, in the mood for a quiet cup of tea before the next emergency, and so heads to the empty corner of the supply room, which has a few improvised seats, and more importantly, a tea service.
Sylma is a young channel, only five years past changeover, with brown hair and more muscles than most Simes bother to acquire.
Sylma moves with the free stride of the trained athlete.
Sylma opens the door to the supply room and ducks inside.
Rifan is sitting at the table staring into his tea in a depressed fashion.
Rifan straightens as Sylma enters, and gets his nager in order.
Rifan: Hello Sylma.
Sylma was, however, able to zlin the depression before Rifan controlled it.
Sylma: Rifan. What's got you so depressed?
Sylma: ~~ sympathy ~~
Rifan is a small, neat, quick channel with a dark complexion and black hair tied in a pony tail. He would look like he'd never exercised, or gotten into a fight, in his life except for his obviously half-healed left ear.
Rifan shakes his head.
Rifan: Nothing you have to worry about. Just personal.
Rifan smiles to show her he's fine.
Sylma pours herself some tea.
Sylma: Did you have another "disagreement" with your wife?
Sylma sits down beside Rifan.
Rifan: She's been impossible over this Elte Andover thing.
Rifan: All I ask is that she refrain from talking about him in my presence. Is that so much to ask of my own wife?
Rifan sounds, and zlins, rather plaintive.
Rifan is... fairly... certain her obsession will pass eventually.
Rifan however really doesn't like to hear about another man's physique, looks and brains from his own wife, particularly after a long day at work.
Sylma: Elte Andover? Isn't he that journalist from Gen Territory?
Rifan: That's the one.
Sylma doesn't follow the Gen press very closely.
Sylma: You don't mean that he's got an eye on your wife?
Rifan points to a newspaper lying nearby. It's about two months out of date and much fingered. It's folded to show an Elte column.
Rifan: More like she's got her eye on him. I doubt he'd even notice her.
Sylma picks up the paper and scans the indicated column.
Sylma: Well, that's something.
Rifan: Don't repeat anything you read in there. [cautions]
Rifan: Controller didn't like most of it.
Sylma raises an eyebrow.
Rifan is in a position to know what the Controller doesn't like at the moment, having been vigorously uh, "debriefed" after the disastrous Plum donation.
Sylma: I can see why.
Sylma shakes her head.
Sylma: Where did he come up with such stuff?
Sylma hasn't been associated with Arat for all that long: she and her brother were recruited to round out the staff at the Dam, rather than specially requested by Arat.
Sylma therefore is unaware of many of the political nuances surrounding Arat's assignment to the Dam.
Rifan: Well, it's sort of based upon the conclusions one could draw based upon vague rumors about some things that might or might not have happened. If one had an overactive imagination.
Rifan may be exaggerating slightly, but since he needs to regain some status with his boss, he will err on the side of caution.
Sylma: Hmm, yes. You say your wife likes this stuff?
Rifan winces, zlinning somewhat embarrassed.
Rifan: Well, she likes his stuff anyway.
Rifan makes it sound like he is not necessarily referring to the written "stuff".
Sylma raises an eyebrow.
Sylma: Well, unless he's interested in hers, as well, there's nothing likely to come of it, is there?
Rifan would like to think so. But his wife has never had the same opinions as him on where to draw the line.
Rifan: I hope you're right.
Sylma: Does this sort of thing happen often?
Rifan's brow furrows.
Rifan: No, actually.
Rifan: It's never happened before.
Rifan: I mean, she has her... interests and stuff, but it's usually been causes, not people.
Sylma: Perhaps she could be distracted from her obsession with this Gen reporter, if she was too involved with a cause to dwell on it?
Sylma is, of course, ignorant of the causes that Rifan's wife thinks worthy of her attention.
Rifan: Well, I'm sure that'll happen eventually.
Rifan's wife has never had a very long attention span.
Sylma: I'm not being much help, am I? I'm sorry.
Rifan smiles at her.
Rifan: No, I'm sorry.
Rifan: I shouldn't mope around like that. It doesn't do me or anyone else any good.
Rifan used to have his own office, in which he could wallow as much as he wanted, but that was back in Capitol.
Rifan has much better access to uppers here, though, so the lack of office hasn't generally been a problem.
Sylma: I can't help noticing that you're a bit stiff, today. And what happened to your ear?
Sylma has her suspicions, which in this case happen to be at least partly wrong.
Rifan reaches up to touch the ear self-consciously.
Rifan: I had a difficult donation a couple of days ago.
Rifan: The man actually attacked me, if you can believe it!
Rifan: One of the prisoners in the IDAS compound.
Sylma looks at the ear more closely.
Sylma: A Gen attacked you, and did that kind of damage?
Sylma extends a tentacle for a closer zlin.
Rifan: He was out of his mind at the time.
Rifan: We ended up having to drug him.
Sylma: I'm not surprised.
Sylma: Why was he so upset? Or was it just insanity?
Rifan: Well, he didn't want to donate. But I don't think that's all it was.
Rifan thinks, for example, not wanting to donate doesn't explain why Plum was getting more and more turned on the longer they talked.
Sylma zlins ~~ openly curious ~~
Rifan: I recommended that he be drugged in advance in the future, when I filled out my report.
Sylma: It seems a rather extreme measure, for a simple donation.
Sylma is starting to get ~~ curious ~~ about this Gen.
Rifan: Well, if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not have other people's injuries on my conscience.
Rifan is aware that not all Dar feel that way about other people's injuries.
Sylma looks at Rifan speculatively.
Sylma: You really feel that this Gen is that dangerous?
Rifan shrugs, somewhat defensively.
Rifan: In my opinion, yes.
Rifan: Imagine what would happen if he went after the Controller?
Rifan: Or Wise Snake?
Sylma would rather not.
Sylma concedes the point with a graceful wave of two tentacles.
Sylma has no doubt of what would happen if such a Gen were to attack her, but is willing to admit that she's perhaps better trained in handling physical attacks than the average channel.
Sylma: It would throw the schedule into an uproar, if the Controller had to take time off to heal.
Rifan: Well, he has his bodyguards. But I doubt the fellow would get fair treatment after that.
Rifan: And Snake, well,
Sylma: I really wouldn't like to see what would happen, to any Gen who attacked her.
Rifan: She is armed.
Rifan zlins about carefully to make sure they are not being overheard.
Rifan is fairly certain his zlinning range is longer than either Farris' hearing range, but it's probably pretty risky of them to be discussing this in the infirmary.
Sylma thinks that Snake is more than just armed: by all accounts she's crazy.
Sylma: Do you think it's likely that one of them will be in charge of your violent Gen next month?
Rifan: Beats me.
Rifan: Probably not.
Sylma: He's no particular challenge, apart from the violent tendencies?
Rifan would hate to see a 3rd order channel with a small female Donor handle Plum. They might never recover from their recovery.
Sylma knows that Firsts, and Farrises in particular, love a challenge, but not of the physical variety.
Rifan: I don't think so.
Rifan: Well, that and being unwilling.
Sylma: You know, there are ways to keep a Gen from doing that kind of damage to you.
Rifan thinks oh no, here it comes.
Rifan: Oh yeah?
Sylma smiles in amusement at Rifan's reaction.
Sylma: It's not very difficult to learn how to block a punch, in a way that leaves you in a position to act.
Rifan: He didn't punch me. He bit me.
Rifan: I was injecting him at the time.
Sylma: How were you holding him?
Rifan tries to remember.
Rifan: I was holding his left arm with my right hand and tentacles. Berlynna had him by the other arm. He was struggling madly.
Rifan: I had the needle in my free hand. The footing was terrible. There was food all over the floor.
Rifan: I managed to pull myself near enough to get him with the needle, and he bit me in the ear just as the needle was going in.
Sylma listens closely, visualizing the situation.
Rifan: I had to hold long enough for the drug to enter the bloodstream, of course.
Rifan: It only took an instant, but he was gnawing away like a pit bull.
Sylma winces at the description.
Rifan: There was blood everywhere. It was ugly.
Rifan doesn't even mention the oatmeal.
Sylma: It sounds dreadful.
Rifan: If only I hadn't made the mistake of trying to talk to him like a reasonable person before hand.
Rifan smiles ruefully.
Sylma: Is that what enraged him so? You seldom hear of an out-Territory Gen who's willing to attack a Sime, bare-handed.
Rifan: He was under the impression that going willingly to his donation would damage his immortal soul.
Sylma: What the shen is he doing on this side of the Border, if he feels that way?
Sylma: Didn't anyone tell him that donating is required?
Rifan shrugs.
Rifan: He thought he could get away without.
Rifan: I mean, his main purpose in coming here was to try to get other Gens not to donate.
Rifan: Or so I've been told.
Sylma shakes her head in disbelief.
Sylma: I suppose there's at least one idiot in every crowd.
Sylma: Still, there are ways to make injury less likely, for all concerned.
Sylma: For instance, a Gen can struggle quite effectively when held by the arms, but it's much harder to do so if you flop him down on his belly.
Rifan tries to imagine flopping a wildly struggling Plum down on his belly on a concrete floor without causing any injury.
Sylma: And there are ways to hold even a standing Gen, that don't allow much movement.
Rifan remembers Plum's leg flying forcefully towards his midriff and wonders how one is supposed to hold both arms and both legs simultaneously while the Gen is standing.
Sylma: Some of them are a bit uncomfortable, but you wouldn't have to zlin while you were injecting the drug.
Sylma is like most Dar Simes well used to not zlinning when in a combat situation.
Rifan: No thanks. I'll just stick to trying to avoid those kind of situations.
Sylma: Well, then, I hope that you will be able to avoid this obstreperous Gen, in the future.
Rifan: Oh, no worries on that account.
Rifan doesn't think that Arat will be assigning him to Plum again anytime in the next millennium or two.
Sylma thinks it is a pity that Rifan seems uninterested in hand-to-hand techniques. From what she has heard about his fights with his wife, and zlinned of their aftermath, she thinks it would do him a world of good to learn a bit.
Sylma: I hope not, for your sake and his. It can't have been pleasant for the man to go through that kind of struggle.
Sylma: Although I expect he inflicted more damage than he received.
Sylma is, of course, not factoring in damage due to soul loss.
Rifan: I'll say.
Sylma finishes her tea, and stands.
Sylma: If you do find yourself in a situation where you're likely to be attacked again, I would be happy to work with you.
Rifan: Uh... thanks. [grins weakly]
Rifan waves to Sylma.
Sylma chuckles.
Sylma: Really, you could learn some useful things in even a few sessions.
Rifan shakes his head.
Rifan: The day I leave a session wishing I knew how to fight is the day I retire.
Rifan: ~~with feeling~~
Sylma: Well, it's not for everyone, I suppose.
Sylma: I do hope that you and your wife can reach an understanding.
Rifan hopes so too.
Go on to Episode #133: The Stain of the Rogue
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