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

[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.

[keep_nothing]

[ The last note surprised her, but it's gone too quick to examine it, leaving her wondering if she actually felt it. ]

Yes, sorry, of course not.

[dendarii]

We'll show you normal things. Like where to buy clothing. Alas, there's a distinct lack of computer-made or tailored options.

[ Miles himself is in a hoodie and jeans, obviously not tailored but not terrible either. ]

[keep_nothing]

Too bad about no computer-made items, but I think I'll be glad for some normal clothes. As pretty as a Vor's ladies wardrobe is, sometimes I long for my fatigues.

[dendarii]

You will love jeans, then. I'm terribly fond of hoodies, myself.

[ He manages to slide a hand into one of the pockets, wiggling it demonstratively. ]

[keep_nothing]

Ooh, they do look practical. And comfortable. Alys would be horrified. I love them already.

[ There's a teasing edge to her voice at mention of his aunt. ]

[dendarii]

Precisely my thought. Gregor looks sharp as ever, of course.

[keep_nothing]

I'll have to take your word on that. Since this is the only way I've seen him, it's hard to imagine him in dress greens.

[dendarii]

He cuts a sharp figure in those as well. ... Have you seen him yet?

[keep_nothing]

Only briefly. I thought it better to let Aral speak to him first.

[ Her gaze drifts over to the kitchen even if the men she's looking at are out of sight from this angle. ]

... What's he like?

[dendarii]

[ Ah. Miles' affection for Gregor is as bright as a sunburst - admiration, fondness, and absolute loyalty all rolled into one. ]

He's incredible, Mother. You have no idea.

[keep_nothing]

[ She almost sags in relief. So he turned out a good man. Hopefully that means she did something right too. Miles' affection is contagious, smiling with him. ]

Well I won't if you don't tell me.

[dendarii]

You really have to see it for yourself, I suppose. But he's ... he will be a good Emperor, I'm sure of it. And we used the link to make sure he wasn't mad. His proposal, more or less.

[ And Miles' idea too; he's like a puppy trotting out a favorite toy, talking about Gregor. ]

[keep_nothing]

[ She had been smiling wider at his enthusiasm, the comparison to a puppy not that far off. But she blinks at the last part. ]

You what?