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

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[His tone has some small, almost impossible wonder, given the last argument with his father.]

It was given to him by my father. They managed some peace.

[He can't help the gentle tease.] He likes the horses. I suppose it was inevitable.

[keep_nothing]

[ He can feel her let out a slow breath as she leans against him, different from the exasperated sigh of a moment ago, relieved. ]

I guess he didn't mean all that never-ever stuff after all.

[ She turns her face up to him, letting him see her exaggerated squint to tease right back. ]

The horses are unfortunate though. I wonder if that's how they bonded. [ Then she drops the squint, eyes more wide now as she realizes the ramifications. ] God, I hope Miles didn't actually ride them as a child. He'd be broken in two.

[use_everything]

[He can't help a tug of a smile here.]

Have you seen his eyes? I don't think the whole of the Imperial Service could keep him from it.

[keep_nothing]

[ She groans plaintively, thumping her forehead down on his shoulder. ]

My poor nerves ... I bet he didn't give us any time to breathe when he could finally walk.

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[The arm around her squeezed gently in sympathy, though his eyes were light with amusement.]

.. I wonder when that was.

[keep_nothing]

[ She shifts again, her cheek pressing against the point of his shoulder now. ]

I'm not sure. I didn't want to ask, really ... keep it a surprise.

[use_everything]

[Two years ago or two years old... The answer could be a loaded one.]

Well, he's found more sport than horses now. The stories are impressive.

[keep_nothing]

I'll say, He barely got started in the telling ...

But what about his story here?

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That's something I mean to speak with you about.

[keep_nothing]

[ It's subtle, her shift in posture, but as close as they are he'll be able to feel the way she lightly holds her breath in anticipation, preparing for the complications this discussion is more than likely to have. ]

Oh?

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There is the subject of whether that story should continue.

It is pending their and your decisions.

[keep_nothing]

[ She frowns. Something is missing there. ]

What about your decision?

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I've made mine.

The whole game they've been playing has been to keep Gregor's identity quiet. There's no reason my presence should destroy that.

I imagine the plan will be for me to assume the role of Count and leave the villain, Lord Vorkosigan free. Still, it might give us some trouble by association.

[keep_nothing]

[ She tries not to reject his decision out of slight, but it's hard to hide her eyes from him. ]

But the lie will just become bigger won't it? Having to keep its own cover by adding more and more details.

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Oh. It's already unbelievably convoluted. Twisted, contradictory and nonsensical in it's own way. [Dendarii. Honestly.] And it certainly caused the... mess today. Frankly, I can practically feel the blood pressure of ImpSec collectively going up by the double digits every next part I hear.

But something like this is nothing that can go backwards.

Besides, I have a suspicion at least some aspects of it hold some weight I haven't fully grasped.

[keep_nothing]

[ Her lip twitches at the thought of that. Poor Illyan. ]

But even if you were Count instead of Lord, what does that make us to Miles? Would we still be his parents? I don't want to lie about that.

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Were that he were whom he claim to be, would you not consider him a son as well?

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He could claim to be the emperor and I'd still say he was mine.

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Lets not offer any new ideas.

[keep_nothing]

[ She puffs out a breath at that, an aborted laugh. He probably didn't mean that as a joke. ]

But wouldn't it be simpler to drop the grander lie in order to keep the smaller one? Go back on this clone of an evil Lord while still keeping Gregor's cover?

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I'll be happy to see it fizzle into obscurity. Without repetition, hopefully it should fall into rumor and then nothing at all.

[It was a weak, shallow hope though. The afternoon coffee he'd had with the intense Miss Jones spoke otherwise. That could be a problem.]

It will be something I suggest. [He nods to her.]

[keep_nothing]

Miles could also squash it entirely by telling the truth too.

[ Though she doesn't believe that herself, but wanted to say it out loud. For completeness if nothing else. ]

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[He would like to leave her that, to simply agree. His hand traces down her side, soothing.]

Without Admiral Naismith all of Greg Vorthys falls into doubt.

No, it must be committed in full or deconstructed.

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[ She lets out a slow sigh, closing her eyes briefly to feel his hand all the more. Her voice lowers almost to a whisper. ]

So deconstruction isn't out of the question?

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[He shakes his head.]

Not as such. It's as viable an option as continuing.