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]

But that's just it ... I don't.

[ She makes sure her tone is even, but she can't help the plea in her eyes when she says it. ]

[vorbarra]

Mm, assume the best until you're proven the worst? You do get results that way.

[He means very specifically you, as in her, though he's employed that tactic himself before.]

[use_everything]

[It gets a wry upward tug at the corner of Aral's lips, but the edges of that humor was turned subtly inward.]

The latter.

... Though I'd like to hear of the test as well. Unless I've changed so much, my first plan for the Service was to squash preferential treatment.

[Which meant he made it to that point on his own merit and skill.]

[keep_nothing]

I'll ask you to tell me all about it. But—later, after Aral has no doubt grilled you about it, in excruciating detail, I'm sure.

[dendarii]

[ Fuck.

She's right, of course. His mother doesn't know him; it might even be a relief to be able to clarify over a link instead. Then again ... he and Aral just seem to misread each other even worse. ]

... What can it hurt?

[use_everything]

Hm.

He's the right age for service.

[There were more than enough lingering hostilities from the Escobaran-Barrayan war.. but Naismith would make no sense, then.]

[vorbarra]

No doubt, [he agrees, droll. Clearly he's used to that phenomenon.

Gregor thinks about what she might like to know instead, shuts the heat off, and slides the rice and vegetables and chicken into a serving bowl to cool before facing her directly again.]

It occurs to me you might like knowledge of a different nature. I did grow up with Miles, you know. [And he doesn't say it outright but he knows he is not very forthcoming with his parents. Which Gregor understands, honestly he does, but he also sympathizes deeply with Cordelia's urge to know her son and it pains him sometimes in a way exclusive to orphans to see her remain ignorant of him.]

[keep_nothing]

[ She offers another smile, but it ends up with more cheek than being actually apologetic. ]

[dendarii]

[ Sigh. ]

To do this properly, I really ought to kneel. And put my hands between yours.

[ A bit difficult at the moment. ]

[keep_nothing]

[ She sighs lightly. ]

We could sit here postulating all day. Couldn't we just seek this ... this Naismith out and get the story from him?

[use_everything]

[He doesn't need to feign anything here. To speak of Barrayar takes nothing at all. He clasps his hands behind his back, keeping pace as to not fall behind her or walk in front.]

It is a world and a people, together. Troubled at times, not entirely terraformed, but inarguably it is home.

[dendarii]

[ He decides to tackle the test first, despite Aral's direction; it's the simpler topic. ]

It has. Or it is in the progres of doing so. Precisely why I absolutely could not lean on you to pass me through.

[ It would have been abhorrent to his stubborn pride, but he admits to being sorely tempted at times. ]

I passed the written exam with flying colors, but the physical ... I shattered both legs on the first wall. Should have gone around and lost the points.

[keep_nothing]

[ Her eyes and even her whole self seem to light up with the change of subject, clearly hungry to know more. ]

You did? Then you—we did raise you ... together?

[ She can't help the small not of hesitancy in her voice towards the end there. She knows how she feels about the subject now: awkward and somewhat conflicted considering how she met his father and of his true end. She had only really started to figure out how she might approach Gregor while in charge of his upbringing, but the five-years-old-Gregor seems a different beast than talking to Gregor-in-front-of-her about it. ]

[use_everything]

[He keeps the sympathetic wince from surfacing, though he feels it, acutely.]

Hindsight is maddening.

[keep_nothing]

I'm not much of a Barrayaran traditionalist anyway.

[ She carefully extracts herself from the couch, careful not to jostle him too much. Then she moves to stand in front of him, taking each of his hands in hers, semi-awkward with one of his arms in the sling, but she makes it work. ]

[use_everything]

It would save some time, wouldn't it?

[keep_nothing]

We both prefer the direct approach anyway, when we can manage it.

[dendarii]

Yes, well ... It's a good idea in principle. I'd have hated to use nepotism anyway.

[ Hates it, in fact. But that's all he has to say on the test; time to go back to the actual topic at hand. His emotions swirl again, complex, uncertain of which thread to pick out first. ]

I ... adored Grandfather. Perhaps more than I should have. I wasn't aware of the full history until later on in life. He'd doted on me with the horses, and I admired his military record ...

[ He swallows a bit. ]

He did tell me, eventually. What he'd tried to do.

[vorbarra]

[That question deserves a more complicated answer than Cordelia might be expecting; Gregor palpably hesitates for a moment, looking uncertain, but he imagines even younger she is likely to appreciate the plain unvarnished truth.]

In a way. I... think of you as my foster-parents, [he says, cagey despite his intent, not quite able to stomach saying directly, You're my foster-mother and I miss you dearly at times, or even worse, Your husband can't bring himself to name himself as my father in any way and I cannot blame him.] Though I understand it is not a role you might have looked for at this age.

[He sounds very neutral about supplying his supposed foster-mother with an out to caring about him too overtly right now, and continues on without a blip. Obviously what she's interested in is what he'd know about Miles and he can't blame her; it's why he'd offered it out in the first place.]

We weren't raised physically together, obviously; I've always been at the Residence, and we're far enough apart in age that by the time he was walking I was always in lessons or the academy or my mandatory period of service... [An oblique, slightly awkward shrug.] But I did traipse around with Miles and Ivan and occasionally Elena from time to time.

[use_everything]

There's an element of surprise still available... and no mentions I've found of you yet.

[Another curiosity.]

It should be enough to see if the local authorities have a cell they could spare. A single night, just to see what his nerves are made of.

[dendarii]

[ It aches again, whether on Miles' side of the link or Aral's; he winces a little. ]

No ... no, you are not. All right.

[ He takes a deep breath. ]

I, Miles Naismith Vorkosigan, do testify that I am - [ Here he must pause, because this part won't quite work without modification - ] sworn to your husband, my Count, but that I am capable of swearing anyway - and take service under Cordelia Naismith Vorkosigan. And will hold her - in addition to Gregor and my father - as my liege commander until death releases me.

[ That last word seems to hang in the air; for a moment, he thinks that he modified oath can'd possibly have worked. And then, like an unfolding flower, he suddenly has the sense of some corner of his mind opening up. He - can feel something. Another strand, going off into the darkness... ]

[keep_nothing]

[ He'll feel hushed anticipation through that new strand, tinged with excitement and a sense of awkwardness—she never really quite understood the Vor's sense of decorum for this sort of thing. After a moment of standing there in silence after Miles finishes, that feeling starts to turn towards amusement, not yet feeling, or rather, not yet understanding what she's feeling from this new link with Miles. She feels a bit silly just standing there holding his hands. ]

... I don't suppose there's some sort of fanfare after you've said it, is there?

[keep_nothing]

But what could you accuse him of? I wouldn't think any authority would hold someone just for slander.

[use_everything]

[He considered a gentle correction, that he meant the test, not the reforms...

And decides that Miles' pride was the more important one here.

He stills, watching Miles under heavy, drawn brows. He doesn't refute the last, the frustration and hurt was still new. Not many more days from yesterday to Aral.

Carefully, as if afraid he would break it - this - again, he answers,]

He gives - gave - neither adoration nor scorn in half measures. There's no shame in returning what you were given. Were it not wholehearted, you'd have found no trace at all.

[He takes a breath, the next simply finding its way out. Pain made some men curt and irritable. For Aral, it had a tendency to loosen his tongue as much as drink did.]

It seems beyond me. He was so impossibly large.

[keep_nothing]

[ She seems to relax at his choice words though, her momentary hesitation eased. Though to Gregor, it may seem like she's getting side-tracked form the subject of Miles, a soft smile playing at her lips. She's talking to Gregor now. Even Miles, her son, can wait a moment for this. And the rest of it be damned. ]

With Ivan and Elena too ... I'm afraid it sounds like you were rather outnumbered with smaller children.