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]

[ She can't help the upward twitch at the corner of her mouth, especially when he makes that sort of face. ]

I believe that would apply to you too, love. Best you keep that in mind whenever you're feeling mischievous.

[use_everything]

[He couldn't help it. His voice drops low, for her ears only, though his eyes only held laughter.]

I wonder what use we could find for that...

[keep_nothing]

[ She takes back the brochure to smack him with it. ]

Later.

[use_everything]

[He hums in response to that, pleased, an answering low fire in his eyes all but says he takes that for a promise.

It's put aside.]

There's more pressing matters. There couldn't have been a worse time for a transdimensional abduction if they'd picked it during the Pretendership itself.

[Transdimensional. Even to his own ears it sounded bizarre. Absurd, even.]

[keep_nothing]

[ The humor in her eyes dims fully away with that, replaced by worry. ]

For several reasons ...

[ But there's one reason that rises above the others in her mind. They'd only just birthed their son from the replicator a day or two ago. ]

[use_everything]

[There's a tone she only takes on the subject of their son. He doesn't need to ask for elaboration for the understanding and edged worry to be reflected in his own countenance.]

So, our first point of order is established.

[What about home?]

[keep_nothing]

[ She gives a single nod, both confirming and agreeing with him. ]

Have you seen or found anything that would give us a clue to know what's going on back on Barrayar? Or how to find out?

[use_everything]

Nothing. There's a communications network I've been monitoring for similar questions.

[He hadn't been the only one at the facility. Had he missed her by minutes? Hours?]

It may be worth asking ourselves.

[keep_nothing]

More than worth it. I want to know he's all right.

[use_everything]

[He nods at that and fishes out his own communicator, pauses, and looks around. He waves her towards a park bench near by, as they can both at least have some comfort in case this should go on long.]

[keep_nothing]

[ Moves immediately, walking next to him then sitting beside him on the bench, the length of her thigh pressed to his. He's not the only one who wanted some contact; to prove to herself that he's not going anywhere out of her sight. ]

[use_everything]

[Some tension left his shoulders and when his hand drops, it is chastely, companionably settled just above her knee. Before putting out any question of himself, he searches again for any hint of command or hierarchy.

His gaze automatically settles on 'Admiral' and fixes at the name that follows it.]

Dear Captain, may I ask you a somewhat uncomfortable question.

[keep_nothing]

[ She can't quite see what he's looking at from the angle she's sitting, frowning faintly at his tone. ]

What is it?

[use_everything]

Could you describe your father for me? His looks, specifically. I don't think it has chanced to come up before.

[keep_nothing]

[ Her frown deepens, but describes her father anyway, trusting his reasoning even if she doesn't know what they are yet. The description decidedly does not fit this Admiral Naismith. ]

[use_everything]

[He considers, a moment, and then turns the screen to her, his own expression schooled. The first question had willingly surrendered any chance of some misguided attempts to shelter her.]

I had cause to wonder.

[keep_nothing]

[ She looks, mystified at first, then something else replacing the confusion in her eyes as she reaches out to take his communicator from him to scroll and view what he had seen. Her expression becomes more hardened the longer she looks. ]

[use_everything]

[It becomes evident that it not merely her father's name being used, but his own.]

The chance of a coincidence seems vanishingly small.

[keep_nothing]

Clearly someone who thought they couldn't get burned so far from the fire. but what could they hope to accomplish here?

[ She hands back his comm. ]

[use_everything]

Nothing comes to mind. There's no reward to such slander, no allies that could be curried from it.

The boy's accent is frankly Betan.

[keep_nothing]

Which makes even less sense than if he was Barrayaran.

[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.]

[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]

It would save some time, wouldn't it?

[keep_nothing]

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