Admiral Lord Aral Vorkosigan (
use_everything) wrote2016-01-16 07:55 am
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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
It was such a Betan sentiment. But, he was not Barrayaran to the bone, it permeated to the cellular level.]
I'm not sure that's so easy for me to separate.
...
Let me sleep on it.
no subject
no subject
His absolution, his saving grace. Honestly, what else DID he need?
He smiles against her lips and pulls her gently across his lap before tilting his head up into the kiss, just as soft.]
no subject
But with Aral's arms around her and his lips against hers, she finds she really, really doesn't mind. ]
no subject
The bedrooms are upstairs.
no subject
Then the absurdity of the situation suddenly makes her laugh; she stifles it before she can laugh outright, the sound coming out as a sort of muffled snort. Her thoughts are kind of singsong even in her own head: our own son just caught us being naughty~. ]
Yes, thank you, Miles.
no subject
For Miles, what had been a relaxation into some powerful, warm emotion, suddenly shuttered so fast it completely cut the connection down in a moment of fluster.
He clears his throat, properly, and moves to untangle themselves.]
no subject
Would you like help finding it? The one on the end, maybe, with the thickest walls.
no subject
Oh, I thought we'd take the one next to yours. Wanting to be close to our baby boy and all that loving parental stuff.
no subject
Cordelia.
no subject
Kindly do not provide me with a sibling, please.
no subject
... Would that we could.
no subject
no subject
Deep breath. And squash down the curiosity as to why. ]
Ah ... my apologies. I hadn't realized. You ... never indicated to me otherwise.
no subject
Don't worry about it. Just ... still coming to grips with it.
no subject
no subject
I know the feeling. Gregor and I were much the same.
no subject
no subject
It's still soon. [Not quite an apology. Not quite an explanation. He nods to Miles.]
Rest well. [And he takes his own leave.]