Voice Testing Post

[use_everything]

Canon

A.

[You may find yourself facing large, heavy gates. Behind the bars, you can easily see the enormous, austere residence spread both tall and wide against a backdrop of a lake, stables and a small, private cemetery. The unbridled horse grazing, unhitched beside a carriage, by a liveried servant is in direct opposition to an obviously futuristic lightflier not far from it.

Even the guard that narrows to nervous attention holds both a sword and a strange, small device.]

And you are?

[The voice comes from behind.

Aral, for his part, neither looks, nor feels the part of the lord. Having taken the long way, treacherous and unmonitored paths and foothills back to the residence, he smells of sap, a chemical tinge of smoke and the exertion it took to get back. His green dress uniform had survived in all but the pressed edges, looking as if he'd intended the slight look of disarray and set jaw.

He lifts a hand, stilling the guard from comment on him, and focuses all of his attention on this newcomer.]

B.

[The Counts and Minsters poured out of the building first. The debates of the evening being traded in words so sharp that they might as well have been blows. Aral followed much more sedately, having taken a bit of time to brief his intelligence officer and leave orders for the evening.

It's by chance he stumbled across a stranger, enough out of place to inspire both caution and curiosity in equal measures.]

You seem lost.

Mask or Menace

C.

[It helped to liken the city to a space station. It had the bustle of a large hub.. the rowdy clash and wild fusion of fashions and cultures that defied any easy identification of a trend or perhaps some anthropological hint as to the people - and species... intelligent and alien, the very thought sent his mind into fits of fantasy and planning at once. It was like water, as far as he could tell. Formless, impossible to grip, but could fill the air around you and sweep one far away should he let it. There were colors and layers fitting the ghem Cetagandan... lack of modesty known to the Betans... the maliable gathering of anything adorned by a Jacksonian mindset...

And yet, nothing that fit anything else.

There was only one way to begin. Diplomatically.]

Might I ask a question?

OTHER

[Pick your poison, or let me know and I'll cater a starter to you.]

Comments

[keep_nothing]

[ Wherever could he have gotten that idea from. ]

No, I think not. Not for now.

[dendarii]

[ Instinct, maybe. ]

Mother, please. This isn't your decision.

[use_everything]

[Just relax. Easy for him to say. How on earth did someone relax their MIND? It was such a foreign idea to him that he simply defaulted to attempted to physically relax and hope the rest followed. The same pattern he would take at bedtime, first the neck, then shoulders, then back...

But what happened, that pressure and the pull, it felt too much like an intrusion. That the fire banks, roaring against stone walls, but getting no further.

Aral rubs at his temples, wryly. It's a moment, then another.]

That.. was unpleasant.

[keep_nothing]

It was my decision when I wouldn't let the soltoxin antidote take my child from me. It was my decision to let Vaagen cut you from my womb and transfer you to the replicator so late into the pregnancy, to doom you to a life of doctors and hospitals and forever brittle bones in a world that eats its sons. Let me pay for my decisions now.

[ Her voice started out hard at the beginning, using her anger at herself that had been brewing for weeks now, using it to hide the fact that it also shakes her to her core. As she continues, the fear and regret in her wins over the anger, causing her voice to tremble at the end, finally lowering it almost to a whisper. A simple plea: ]

... Please. Let me do this for you.

[use_everything]

The same, it is.

Well, seems I wont have to displace someone else.

[It's light, almost teasing. One who didn't know him as well might actually assumed he wouldn't actually do that.]

[keep_nothing]

[ She smacks him lightly with the file again, knowing full well he would have. ]

How fortunate for both parties.

[protagerrant]

That's fine by me, it's enough of a pain catching up as it is.

[use_everything]

[The cloning comment passes without note or change on the man's face. A simple lack of guilt? Was it such a common practice?

Instead Aral focuses on the weaponry, as is his wont.]

Laser weaponry is particularly obsolete now. Where a weapon is made a counter is developed.

[use_everything]

Agreed. There's more than enough absurdities and oddities to keep a man preoccupied for years just cataloging.

[rathercommon]

[ Damn. Or is he sidestepping it...? ]

How interesting. What about the other stuff?

[use_everything]

[They were all missing. The first time Gregor had snapped back at Aral. He'd received a dressing down at the subject, but an open compliment on his fire. The subtle sighs of relief when a young Miles talked about Gregor's empathetic tears during a hunt, guilelessly related. The arguments, privately held of Barrayaran sentiments versus Betan. Watching and having to let Gregor make his own mistakes, even if they could cost Aral all he had left.

To the man who'd become a practiced tiger, hunting through the political works of Barrayar, it had been watching a chrysalis for years - knowing that no young man knew who he was from one day to the next - wondering what species would emerge, grasping at little signs.

But to him, he was meeting him almost for the first time as an adult. His eyes had scarcely strayed from Gregor, taking constant measure there. He'd always believed you could know a man by his eyes.

He folds his arms on the back of the chair, that keen, hungry interest giving away to a cooler sort, save for the upward turn of his lips.]

Oh, I have more than a few wonders.

[You didn't think you were getting free without this, did you?]

[use_everything]

The best conflict is the one you don't have to engage in.

[keep_nothing]

[ She lightly rolls her eyes at him, pinching the back of his hand again for good measure. ]

Come on, let's go see our accommodations.

[use_everything]

All present in galactic technology. Biological engineering is prevalent throughout to varying degrees depending on planet. At even the most basic level, most natural diseases have been eliminated from humanity through it.

Cloning has been useful for bringing species to new worlds, seeing them adapt and flourish, such as the horses on Barrayar.

[vorbarra]

[Ah. No, he really didn't think that.

For all Aral is clearly positively predisposed to him, most of his biggest concerns soothed away already, Gregor still feels a bit like he's had a pop quiz sprung on him (which Aral has done more than a few times) and correspondingly straightens up subtly.

He matches that coolness, impassivity descending again-- it succeeds in making him look the most overtly Imperial yet this evening, though he'd seemed very Imperial on first meeting, in the wake of Miles's injuries-- even as he wordlessly dishes up two plates of stir fry and walks around the counter to set each at the table. The mundanity of his actions does not pierce his composure at all.

He settles himself in a chair first before nodding at Aral, with precisely the sort of inclination that indicates he knows very well everyone else waits on him and he has decided not to fight it.] Then ask.

[An open floor. But he could do offer no less for this man, his most unflagging protector.]

[keep_nothing]

[ It pleases her immensely that there's only a hint of self-consciousness, tugging another smile on her lips.. ]

Self-defense, huh? From starvation, I take it. I guess Miles would be in the same boat on that too, growing up a lord's son.

I guess I meant more I'm surprised that Illyan didn't have conniptions at what I allowed, or disallowed, you to do. Or maybe he did. I'm sure he would've had nightmares of you catching fire by standing too close to a heat plate.

[ She takes over the serving, taking the serving spoon from him, just barely missed brushing their hands together as she starts to shovel food onto the plates, handing the first plate to him after she deems it adequately filled. ]

Come to think of it ... do you happen to remembers Drou's wedding night?

[rathercommon]

[ She pushes a little more: ]

Is cloning allowed for humans, too? I just read an article here recently talking about the ethics of it.

[use_everything]

[He walks in silence for some long few moments. For all of the complicated affairs of the galactic empires, Barrayar hadn't truly begun to touch the mess of it.]

The laws vary from world to world, as do the debates upon the ethics. It's a complicated topic.

[vorbarra]

[How odd to think that at one point she'd had to think of things like that, growing up a lord's son, as if it weren't a fact of reality as much as the sun rises. It's a look into her coming to terms with Barrayar that Gregor had never thought of.

He also hadn't thought of that she could tell him a few things. He'd had a discussion about her with Serg shortly before arriving here, and it is not a topic he would dare revisit with this incarnation of her, who barely knows him and it so fresh in her memory. More innocent things like Drou's wedding...]

I have no idea what Illyan thought of you, [says Gregor frankly,] but I can't fathom him thinking you irresponsible or careless in any way. [This probably says more of Gregor's impression of her, than of his impression of Illyan's impression.

A short silence as he takes his place and seats himself, thinking back.] I'd have been... five, or thereabouts? Not really. That time period is not very clear to me. [He'd been a frighteningly mute, obedient child with somber eyes through most of it, with a tendency to clutch at Drou and Cordelia when allowed.]

[dendarii]

[ And Miles, rebuffed, gets a flash of heat right back in his own face. Ugh. This ... is not going the way he'd planned. ]

You're not relaxing, that's why. I can't get in. You're all - rocks and hard places.

[dendarii]

[ Goddammit.

If he'd really wanted to prevent her from taking it, he should have slammed down his shield right away and not heard a word of this. And yet, he couldn't possibly have done that either - not to his mother, especially not his mother barely with a son at all, not having seen Miles struggle his way through twenty years of operations and pain and near misses. It may be his body - but it is their pain. All of theirs. His, his parents', even Gregor's.

His stubbornness wavers, dissolves. He can give this one poor gift back to his mother, who has given him so much in return. No argument or response, just ... a mute nod, to begin with. He's agreed, flat out. There's only one more point for him to negotiate on. ]

Then ... then let me lessen it a little. Without taking any back for myself. It's senseless just - enduring for no reason.

[use_everything]

[He leans back to pick up a fork and stab a bit of the stir fry. He waves it, thoughtfully, letting it cool. In the mean time, he considers that. There's a lot to ask, twenty years. Those bare incidents mentioned didn't begin to cover how they had started, the factors surrounding them, how they were resolved. There's a hundred places to begin and "the beginning" was as inadequate as "current events."

But it did give him one interesting thought. He regards Gregor with lidded eyes... reminiscent of those self same pop quizzes Gregor grew up on.]

This situation. How would you use it? Would you use it?

[Two of them from different timelines, for as much as it baffled him, grated upon him its impossibility, another part of him had seized upon it. He regards Gregor with closed curiosity.]

[use_everything]

[There's a puff of air, echoing frustration.]

This IS relaxed. [It's not relaxed at all.]

[dendarii]

[ God. If Miles weren't so terribly annoyed by the situation, it would be kind of funny. His father is wound up so tight he can't even undo this minor bit of telepathy. ]

... You're about as relaxed as Illyan at the Emperor's Birthday.

[keep_nothing]

[ She lets out a breath at his nod, releasing the last of her own tension. She'd surprised herself with that outburst, with her own guilt. ]

... How?