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]

[ Breathe, dammit. He lets her in, as much as it may hurt, to help clear the worst of it out. Slowly the agony trickles back into mere guilt. ]

She didn't. Neither of us did until that precise moment.

[keep_nothing]

[ She holds Miles close in their minds as close as she can't do at the moment physically, the mental equivalent of holding him to her bosom. ]

We have ImpSec retain the records. I'm sure Illyan covered it. ... Is that how you found out, working for ImpSec?

[dendarii]

[ He's grateful for it- doubly so, having his mother close. God he missed her. ]

No, something far more random than that. She was among the Dendarii for a while - caught in the middle of the blockade we were breaking up. I noticed how similar she and Elena looked.

[keep_nothing]

But you didn't think to bring it up with Bothari first?—No, you would've wanted to surprise him too ...

[dendarii]

Exactly that. My mistake, from start to finish. Preventable.

[keep_nothing]

[ She gives a small sigh, shifting closer so that she can lean her forehead against Miles', the closest she can come to a hug while on the floor and half of Miles in casts. ]

You know what they say about the road to hell.

[dendarii]

Paved with good intentions? And beautifully woven handbaskets?

[ He leans back against her, just ... going sort of boneless. He really just wants to lean in and hug her, all these casts be damned. ]

[keep_nothing]

[ This will have to do for now. She'll make it up tomorrow when they're off of him. ]

Unfortunately, it sounds like you really do take after your father and me.

[dendarii]

... What do you mean?

[keep_nothing]

Our actions more often than not have resounding consequences.

[dendarii]

Fracturing in endless directions, after. Oh yes.

[keep_nothing]

[ She gives a light sigh to try to lighten the impact of the conversation, make a joke of it. ]

I wonder if Vorkosigans are cursed in some way, so everything blows up in our faces.

[dendarii]

I wouldn't be surprised. And yet, neither did I marry into it on purpose ...

[keep_nothing]

[ She gives a light snort, the smile twitching in the corner of her mouth again. ]

Maybe I like a little excitement.

[dendarii]

This much?

[keep_nothing]

I am finding it a bit more than I expected.

[dendarii]

Ah ... well, this sort of situation isn't standard. Even if it suits.

[keep_nothing]

[ She moves one of her hands from Miles' to his shoulder, gently cupping an area not covered in casts. ]

We'll get through it.

[dendarii]

Yes, we will. All four of us together. What a thought that is ...

[ He doesn't even wince - she somehow found the right spot. ]

[keep_nothing]

A good one, I hope. My precious boys ...

[dendarii]

A very good one. I've missed you, Mother.

[keep_nothing]

[ Her stomach does a little flop. She's still getting used to being called that, but it pleases her immensely when Miles says it like that. She leans in to press a kiss to his forehead. ]

[dendarii]

[ And Miles, in return, warms with affection. ]

This ... is not such a bad place. Gregor and I can show you the rules.

[keep_nothing]

[ She barely manages to hold back that laugh, the sound ending up to be more of a mirthful snort. Rules, huh? ]

[dendarii]

[ Really. Surprise - exasperation - and then a sour little twist underneath all of it, a worry shoved down too deep for conscious thought. ]

Mother, really. Not your sort of rules. That's for you and father, not me and Gregor.