[It takes a little while. There's the fumbling for the nightstand, a few sleepy attempts at the unlock code and finally... he rubs his face, glances at the woman still sleeping beside him and ... resigns himself to texting back.]
[ Poor Aral. Forced into texting by his own son. (Miles has surely snuck over to Gregor's room by now anyway, so it's not as though he can get up either.) ]
[ Totally fine. He believes you now. A small cackle escapes him - sorry, Gregor - and perhaps tellingly, if Aral has keen enough hearing, the sound of it through the walls does not come from Miles' room... ]
Yes, Da. Love you too.
[ And this time he really does put it down for the night. ]
[No answer comes back at that. The casual phrase at the end, chipper, perhaps teasing, was arresting for ... well, not having seen it before, with their misaligned timelines.
Thus he ends up simply staring at it until the display dims and winks out. With a contented smile, he blindly sets the comm back around where he thought the nightstand was (the faint clatter signaled a miss), turned back over and went to sleep himself.]
no subject
yes what subject
no subject
A Barrayaran uniform. I've found a tailor.
no subject
really? yes certainly military or House
[He did, in fact, take the time to figure out how to capitalize that one single solitary word.]
no subject
Yes, really. I need normal clothes too, but - well, "casual livery" only goes so far.
I'll need both. Military for me and a House uniform for Tex.
no subject
At a soft, disgruntled noise from Cordelia, he turns in bed carefully, shielding the room from the light.]
and the third? your dendarii or not here
no subject
[ He hasn't worn it around Aral yet. Not even to the staff meeting - he'd felt it unbecoming to their status as being distinctly un-mercenary. ]
no subject
[Picking up on the lingo or getting annoyed at the keyboard again? Who can tell.]
no subject
I'll show you tomorrow then. It's mostly just gray, but.
[ He's very pleased with it, a sense of pride leaking gently across their link. ]
no subject
tommorrow
[And goes to set the comm back.]
no subject
You really hate texting, don't you?
no subject
Except for that burst of exasperation over the link, mild but prominent.]
no subject
That's a yes. You poor bastard.
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It's the fact that he knows the message is going to be irritating that makes him pick it up.
SURE WAS.
ANNOYED HE COMPOSES A MESSAGE BACK. TO PROVE HE IS COMPLETELY FINE WITH MESSAGES. It takes embarrassingly long.]
Go to sleep.
no subject
Yes, Da. Love you too.
[ And this time he really does put it down for the night. ]
no subject
Thus he ends up simply staring at it until the display dims and winks out. With a contented smile, he blindly sets the comm back around where he thought the nightstand was (the faint clatter signaled a miss), turned back over and went to sleep himself.]