Admiral Lord Aral Vorkosigan (
use_everything) wrote2016-01-16 07:55 am
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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.]
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.]
no subject
Alarm and surprise, clear on his face as the cool, cloudless winter sky, both step aside, making way for the procession of relief and joy in their equal measure. No thought of selfishness, nor in sparing her. This whole foreign, confusing and slightly menacing world seemed trivial or, at the least, less indomitable than it had a moment before.]
My dear Captain, [He resists the urge to simply sweep her up, off of her feet, and settles for taking her hand, a deep bow over it.] You, alone, are a necessary answer.
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When he straightens up, it's all she can do not to step in close and kiss him in full view of everyone there, the cautious excitement of being in this new, strange place already making her a bit giddy. She makes herself settle with merely reaching out with her free hand, curling it around the side and back of his neck, her small and ring finger sliding down past his collar. Her eyes and hand are hungry for him, deeply familiar in this unfamiliar place. ]
Though I alone can't answer any other questions we both might have here.
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[There is a temptation to close his eyes and lean into in such a touch, and in private, he surely would have. He lifted his hand, covering hers, and catching it there for a moment, as if she could vanish as quickly as she'd reappeared at his side.]
You've been well treated.
[The lift of his voice at the end just barely makes it a question.]
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[ She continues to smile at him, though it dims slightly now, catching his tone and the bigger meaning behind it. ]
As well treated as I could claim to be with being dumped to a unknown place with only a paper brochure—real paper!—to give me any clues as to why. At least finding you made up for that.
[ The hand in his gently withdraws in order to reach for the said brochure, stuffed in her pocket after being carefully folded. ]
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[Aral murmurs, amusement light in his eyes. The ocean hadn't been far from here, visible in the ride out to the city from the base. It had been a mere observation before, but now, certainly, it was a plan to take her there.
He lets his own hand rest back at his side, tracing where he'd placed his own, brochure and file.]
There's some interesting claims of ... magic, I suppose. [It's bemused.]
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[ But she gives a soft snort, looking over the paper(!!) as she does. ]
Magic, they say. I'd like to know how they can claim all this though ...
[ Her eyes pause on the part where it lists out her powers though, somehow missing it before. Her other hand withdraws from his neck to hold the paper with both hands as she now looks it over in more detail, her eyebrows drawing together to frown at the items she mistakenly skipped. ]
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[He frowned, an echo to the change of her expression.]
An issue?
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A poor attempt at humor.
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I might have had a bit more fortune, inexplicably.
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At least they seem to suit you.
1/2
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Keep that on.
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I believe that would apply to you too, love. Best you keep that in mind whenever you're feeling mischievous.
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I wonder what use we could find for that...
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Later.
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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.]
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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. ]
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So, our first point of order is established.
[What about home?]
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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?
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[He hadn't been the only one at the facility. Had he missed her by minutes? Hours?]
It may be worth asking ourselves.
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