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

[dendarii]

Yes. I - well - it all escalated very quickly, but it started with this jump pilot named Arde Mayhew.

[keep_nothing]

One pilot to 3000?

[ Now The Look starts to shift into a barely concealed smile. She's reminded heavily of how Aral squirms whenever she catches him out of sorts over some personal matter. ]

[dendarii]

Yes. He was drunk and refusing to come out of the ship, so I bought it. And swore him in as an armsman. Which - required me to mortgage some radioactive land back on Barrayar, so I took a very risky supply run to pay it off, which turned out to be a weapons smuggling deal, which ended with us taking over and suborning the mercenaries that caught our ship, and we used them to take over the capital ship, and then the station, and then ... eventually, the entire fleet.

[keep_nothing]

[ She listens to him going on and on ... and on ... gradually tilting her chin down and her eyes widening at the scope it grows to. Escalated, indeed. ]

That sure is a big accident, Miles.

[ Which is the exact same thing she said when he told her the first time, after getting back home and the whole treason charge was over and done with and she could finally see her boy. The tone is slightly different, and maybe the exasperation his mother the Countess had is absent from the mother in front of him, but ... it's good to know they still think the same, isn't it? ]

[dendarii]

[ Gosh. That's - deeply comforting, in fact. She surprises a relieved laugh out of him. ]

That's exactly what you said. After - after I'd gotten back to Barrayar, finally. And the whole treason thing was done with.

[keep_nothing]

Treason? What for?

[dendarii]

[ Ah. That's ... complicated. His link muddies a bit as he tries to think through it. ]

For the Dendarii. I was supposedly amassing an armor against Gregor.

[keep_nothing]

[ She's not used to this link business yet, frowning and becoming lightly confused at his thinking through it. She shakes her head lightly as if to clear it. Which was a bad idea because ow. ]

Was ... Aral still Regent at the time?

[dendarii]

[ Miles shakes his head. ]

Recently achieved majority. You'd approved my trip to Beta Colony half to get me out of the way of things, I think. But instead I made my own trouble.

[keep_nothing]

[ She's suddenly fighting a smile again, almost laughing. ]

... Oops?

[dendarii]

An excellent word for the whole ordeal.

[ Something ... clouds him, though, even as he tries to push it away. In many ways it hadn't been just a collection of hijinks at all. ]

[keep_nothing]

[ It dampens her amusement over this happening on Beta Colony of all places (Aral's going to kill me), causing her to look at him more closely. ]

... What else? What aren't you saying?

[dendarii]

[ Better get this over with. ]

Sergeant Bothari is dead.

[ Even three years away from the event, the loss is a shard of ice direct to the heart. ]

[keep_nothing]

[ Her stomach suddenly drops out from under her, her breath stopped in her throat. Bothari. Miles will feel her shock at the news of course, but there's ... something else with that. Much more complicated than anything Miles himself felt for the man, but he'd probably guessed years ago that the relationship between Bothari and Cordelia was not as straight-forward as the stories told.

Helpless to stop her own mind, a memory of Bothari rises to the link giving Miles confirmation just how complicated it was: "Bothari." He was at her side instantly. "Pick up that sword." He did so. She set the replicator on the floor and laid her hand briefly atop his, wrapped around the hilt. "Bothari, execute this man for me, please." Her tone sounded weirdly serene to her own ears, as if she'd just asked Bothari to pass the butter. Murder didn't really require hysterics.

"Yes, milady," Bothari intoned, and lifted the blade. His eyes gleamed with joy.

"What?" yelped Vordarian in astonishment, still kneeling on the floor. "You're a Betan! You can't do—"

The flashing stroke cut off his words, his head, and his life. It was really extremely neat, despite the last spurts of blood from the stump of his neck. Vorkosigan should have loaned Bothari's services the day they'd executed Carl Vorhalas. A;; that upper body strength, combined with that extraordinary steel ... the bemused gyration of her thought snapped back to near-reality as Bothari fell to his kees with the body, dropping the swordstick and clutching his head. He screamed. It was as if Vordarian's death cry had been forced out of Bothari's throat. ]

[dendarii]

[ Oh.

The memory blots out the rest of the world in an instant - he feels as though he's truly there, setting down his own replicator as Bothari takes up the sword. It's different from how he pictured it. He'd always thought she was the one to strike the blow herself. And yet this hardly seems any different - her making the decision, his stalwart bodyguard merely the weapon.

(Weapon? Victim? Both tangled, as always was the case with Bothari--)

Miles' face goes pale as a sheet. He's overwhelmed, unable to even respond with it all washing over him. He tries to stand - tilts dangerously - ]

[keep_nothing]

[ She can move faster, having held the memory longer makes it somewhat dulled by time; she has no clue that her memory is also flashing behind Miles' eyes. Her eyes widen and she tries to stand—her leg caught under her since she was sitting casually, the bone ache making itself more prominent as she reaches out to catch her son. ]

Miles—!

[dendarii]

[ Just barely far enough away for her to miss. She gets the resulting crunch of pain as Miles hits the floor at an awkward angle, bruising (but thankfully not breaking) some new part of his shoulder.

Meanwhile, his mind whirls trying to process the memory. His own flickers back in bits and pieces - Miles, shadowed by Bothari all his life - Bothari, protective of Elena and loyal to the last - Elena Visconti, standing over his dead body with a needler -- ]

[keep_nothing]

[ She only lets out a small, strangled gasp of pain, nearly falling over herself with her momentum. She barely manages to stay standing, hovering dangerously close over Miles, catching those bits and pieces through the near-blinding pain. ]

[dendarii]

[ It dims, thankfully, after a moment, though everything else is still raw. Even with analgesics, Miles' broken bones are a terror to deal with. He groans, faintly, unable to get back up. Damn these restraints. ]

A-are you all right?

[keep_nothing]

I should be asking you that.

[ She hates that she can't hide the tremor in her voice just then. She moves stiffly, wincing as she does, bending down to try and help Miles up without twisting or bruising anything else on him. The effort is made harder and more awkward by the casts, but she grits her teeth to bear it. ]

[dendarii]

I'm fine. Didn't feel a thing.

[ The gratitude leaks over, though, as she helps him sit back up. ]

-- It's all right. I've done so much worse to myself, you have no idea.

[keep_nothing]

[ She can believe that just from what little she's heard so far. But now that her mind isn't screaming with is he hurt?, her momentary adrenaline seeps out of her, causing her to sit on the floor with him as the aches are that much more powerful. She flops onto the ground next to him, her knee bumping his. ]

[dendarii]

[ Careful not to jostle his injuries further, Miles edges closer to her. A moment's hesitation, and then he leans against her shoulder. A familiar gesture, accompanied by the memory of having done so many times as a child. Seated like this, the only way for him not to be completely lost in the height gap between them. ]

I didn't ... realize. That Bothari held the sword.

[keep_nothing]

[ She automatically leans towards him as well, comforted by that small gesture. Then her posture stiffens. ]

... What did you say?

[dendarii]

[ Confusion from Miles, still half heartsick from the vision he'd seen. ]

With Vordarian. Removing the head. I always thought you had done that.