use_everything | Voice Testing Post

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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Something like that.

[ She eats a few more bites, obviously enjoying the meal even if it is a little bland. Her smile also dims, thinking about something he just said. ]

... Can I ask ...

[ She stops herself, unsure if she wants to continue. ]

... You may ask me anything. You always have.

[Something Gregor obviously hasn't minded, as he drops the words into the air quietly, setting down his fork. There's no guarantee that he'll answer, but.]

She has. I haven't.

[ An important distinction in her mind, a necessary separation. For now. It's hard for her to phrase this, the struggling emotions apparent in her eyes. Gregor probably doesn't even need to open the link between them to know what she's thinking. ]

Can I ask ... what am I to you? I never wanted to replace your mother.

Ah. Would you like me to make the distinction more clearly? I wouldn't mind. [It would be hard for him, but not impossible, and Gregor of all people knows the desire to be seen as entirely yourself and no one else.

He has to pause and gather himself before answering, but it's not so difficult as he was expecting, to say this.]

You didn't. You and Lord Vorkosigan were always very careful not to step into... either of those shadows. [Gregor is careful to sound neutral, saying that.] You're the person who always lets me hide behind you when I need to, [he ends up saying, plainly and a little helplessly.] Except it's not so much behind your skirts so I can eat cream pies, now that I'm older. You... listen. And you have no further agenda than myself.

I can't tell you what that means to me. [And there is no word like mother in there, but that's alright.]

[ Carefully neutral through all of that. She understands. It's ... somewhat of a relief, actually, knowing she never crosses that line with him, but her heart also aches for him, both emotions reflected in her eyes as she looks at him.

She nods, accepting it. ]

A confidant. You would absolutely need one.

[Gregor can't help but feel a matching confusion of relief and ache about it. It's hard for him sometimes to watch the Vorkosigans, and how unconditionally they all love each other, through all their foibles and misadventures. But he's extraordinarily grateful to them, too, for so many things, and he knows that his place as bystander is not one that could have been changed.]

Oh, I do, [he sighs, setting his chin on his palm, a small, wry smile offered out at her.] It expedites things immensely that you already know all of the really gory Vorbarra secrets, anyway. I don't actually have to explain anything to you.

[ That catches her attention, a curiosity bubbling up. She doesn't want to make him tense again, but ... Careful, Cordelia, careful. ]

And ... you know them now, too?

[This has to come out eventually, and Gregor truly doesn't want to hide it, because-- God, he does miss getting to talk to her. A confidante, as she'd said.

His eyes darken and go abstract, unfocused.] One, anyway. I learned the truth about my father just earlier this year. Not in any detail, but... enough. Enough to know. Miles insisted I speak to you about it-- I'd just done that a few days before arriving here.

[Which is cutting a significant amount out of that story, but one thing at a time. For all his talk, Gregor is still a little uncertain around this younger Cordelia.]

[ She may not know this man yet, but she's able to tell when he's hiding something. Mother's intuition? She dismisses that description immediately. She's not sure what to say to that though so she settles on something safe: ]

I imagine you had a lot of questions for her.

... Surprisingly few, actually. [That really hadn't been the primary topic of discussion there, but there's no way for this Cordelia to know. Gregor glances up at her again, finally, and his voice softens.] But I don't expect you to want to talk about it. It's very recent, for you.

More recent than your Lady Vorkosigan, at any rate.

[ She meant that offhandedly, something to say because she's not sure what to say. It's certainly not a pleasant subject, and nothing she ever imagined she'd be talking about so soon with Serg's son.

But she meets his gaze without flinching or hesitancy, not turning away from her past with her future staring back at her. ]

I just—I didn't think it would be something you would want to talk about.

[He goes silent for a few long seconds, turning that over.]

I didn't, really, but I found that I had to. [Gregor shakes his head.] It's not plaguing me so much these days. Please don't let me dredge up awful memories when you've just arrived.

[Miles has already assured him that he's not going to turn out like Serg, irrefutably. All the rest of it Gregor can handle on his own.]

[ She lets out a puff of relieved breath, but not for the fact that she's off the hook to talk about it. ]

Thank goodness. I didn't want you haunted by anything—anything that happened. Or could happen.

[Or could happen. She's hit the nail on the head with that one, as per usual. Gregor is stuck in a position of not wanting to lie to her (it did haunt him, does still haunt him) but also not wanting to invite the conversation. It's far too heavy for day one of their newly balancing relationship.]

In retrospect I definitely understand why you wouldn't tell me. [Though he'd felt a bit betrayed at the time. Now, wryly,] Being an adolescent is confusing enough on its own, without all the complications.

[ She senses that there's something to that, even without the link between them open. She doesn;t want to tug on that particular thread anyway, afraid this easiness between them would unravel. ]

Sorry to break it to you, kiddo, but being an adult is just as confusing. Then you get to throw politics into it.

[Gregor is very thankful for her grace in that.]

I've always had the politics, at least, [he says dolefully.] But couldn't you have told me it doesn't get less confusing? It's been a nasty shock.

Maybe I was trying to ease you into it slowly?

More like I was so focused on being twenty meaning I was the Emperor that I lost track of all the other things it means.

One is a little more overwhelming than the other, I'll give you that.

Yes, and I've had years of dedicated training for it. Your husband gave me all the preparation he could.

[ A light smile forms again, full of relief. ]

I'm glad ...

Voice Testing Post

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject