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]

Worried about ... ?

[ She stops herself before she says something she can retract. About being like his father? ]

[dendarii]

About his mental state. If he would turn out like his family.

[ And his father, by association. ]

[keep_nothing]

Ah. Yes. I'm sure a great many people were worried about that too. But how do you confirm something like that?

[dendarii]

... The link, like I said. I ... went in as deeply as I could.

[keep_nothing]

No, I mean ... how do you know what's—[ Crazy? Sadistic? ]—not right and what is?

[dendarii]

[ Another flare of that blazing loyalty. ]

I know. I saw it myself. He couldn't have hidden anything at that level.

[keep_nothing]

[ She slowly breaks into a smile, feeling that fierce loyalty, recognizing it in herself too. She feels it when thinking of Aral, of Miles. She hasn't yet felt that for Gregor herself though, too cautious of herself around him from her point in time, not wanting to step in for Kareen. But there is some measure of it there in her heart, and it will more than likely grow in the years Miles remembers but she has yet to experience. ]

... You love Gregor a great deal.

[dendarii]

[ He opens his mouth - to do what, protest? Like hell. He won't do Gregor the disservice of denying. But it seems a strange thing to admit all the same, a strange knot in his stomach. What is so bad about loving Gregor, huh? It's strictly platonic, isn't it? Perfectly. Yes. ]

We grew up together. As much as we could, given our age gaps and his responsibilities. And he got mixed up with the Dendarii briefly as well.

[keep_nothing]

[ ... Huh, that little blip she felt was. Odd. But Miles seems to smoothly glide over it, or tries to with that odd stomach pit feeling. She's not quite sure what to make of it though; might as well glide over it too, for Miles' sake. ]

How did he and the Dendarii interact?

[dendarii]

[ Better not to poke at it yet; Miles won't be ready to come to grips with his feelings for a long time. ]

Spectacularly well, in fact. You should have seen him - he folded himself into my wild lying quite effortlessly.

[keep_nothing]

[ Her eyebrows raise. ]

I meant how did they get to interact, but ... [ Gives a small shrug. ] So they obviously didn't know he was the emperor.

[dendarii]

Not at first. IT was a very messy encounter in general.

[ As to how, well ... his enthusiasm dims a bit, wrapping protectively around his mental image of Gregor. He won't give her that detail. ]

He disappeared off Komarr and turned up again in a Jacksonian contract jail. That's how I found him.

[keep_nothing]

He disappeared off Komarr? And then to a jail? I bet ImpSec was having a collective conniption about that.

[dendarii]

Just so. Starting with me, as I was the first member of ImpSec to find him after.

[keep_nothing]

How on earth did he just disappear? I noticed you didn't say kidnap.

[dendarii]

He wasn't. He left on his own.

... It's a subject I think you ought to discuss with him, Mother.

[keep_nothing]

[ She opened her mouth for another question, but closes it at Miles' expression, feeling the protectiveness over their link. It was obviously something personal, for Gregor if not for Miles as well. ]

... With me, or the other me?

[dendarii]

Both yous. I think he already has, with the other you.

[keep_nothing]

And you're not afraid I might give two different opinions?

[ This is touchy for her, uncertain ground. She's only recently gotten used to the idea of being Gregor's guardian, but hasn't put it into actual practice yet. The same goes for being a mother. Her self-doubt at war with (what she thinks to be) motherly instinct, and she's not sure how to act or what to say to make everything okay. ]

[dendarii]

[ Only confidence in return; more of that blazing fire. ]

I expect there will be differences. But am I afraid of them? Hell no.

[keep_nothing]

[ The knot in her stomach eases slightly, grateful. She nods, her mouth suddenly dry. ]

[dendarii]

... You don't seem much changed, though. Just ... different.

[keep_nothing]

... Different how?

[ Her voice is small, even to her own ears. ]

[dendarii]

Differently focused. A little softer, maybe.

[keep_nothing]

Huh. I thought that might have come with age, not the other way around.

[ Especially with what's happened in just the last six months for her. After all that running in mountains, near civil war with the Pretendership ... she tries very hard not to visualize in her mind the prize she delivered to Aral after the memory Miles saw of Vordarian earlier. ]