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 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. ]

[dendarii]

It's ... hard to describe, sorry. You are definitely younger. It's - strange seeing you still figuring things out.

[ He still jolts a bit, suddenly picturing a shopping bag thrown onto a table. ]

[keep_nothing]

With age comes wisdom, I guess.

[ She frowns a bit at his jolt, then her eyes widen as she guesses why. ]

Oh god, I didn't show you that too, did I? How do I block—[ she gestures at her head wildly ]—this?

[dendarii]

[ He winces again, trying not to get stuck in a feedback loop here. Winces upon winces ... ]

It's - a few things. There is shielding, which helps. And - putting a bit of distance between us. Keeps it leaking less.

[keep_nothing]

[ Oh. She reluctantly pulls back a bit from him, still close as they sit on the ground together, but not quite touching anymore. ]

I think I'll need to learn shielding then. Sometimes I just—recall things with alarming clarity. Hopefully that goes away with age too.

... What did you see? Just now?

[dendarii]

[ Awww. Mother. He warms a bit, sadly. ]

Not physical distance. Mental distance.

[ He shrugs his shoulders a little. ]

Ah ... a shopping bag. Very heavy.

[keep_nothing]

Oh. Well you didn't specify. Not sure how to do that either, though.

[ Moving back in then. Just in time to tense against him. ]

But not what was in it?

[ Don' think of it, don't recall it, don't imagine it, keep your mind blank Cordelia— ]

[dendarii]

Like ... untangling. Letting a line reel out.

[ Aha. He winces a little more, having gotten a rather clear picture the first time... ]

Vordarian's head.

[keep_nothing]

[ She winces in turn. What was that about feedback loop? ]

Damn it. I'm no good at this link stuff.

[dendarii]

[ Ow ow yeah. He tries mentally taking a step back, trying to untangle himself. ]

It's - we're just both very - loud.

[keep_nothing]

[ She tries the same, having no clue if she's succeeding or not. She wills herself to calm down, focusing on herself rather than on Miles this time. Slowly, slowly she starts to drift away from the link. Taking one last deep breath, she sighs it out. ]

... I'm sorry you saw that.

[dendarii]

[ Better. Yes. He's forced to lick his lips a bit, his mouth gone dry. ]

I knew it had happened. It's not as though I was surprised.

[keep_nothing]

Still. Not something I'd want to show my son as if it were a holovid I could play back.

[dendarii]

... Show me something you do want me to see, then.

[keep_nothing]

[ She thinks for a moment, going over a couple options before dismissing them in turn before she settles on one.

She takes that mental step closer over the link, getting a little better about this already. She shares her memory of Miles, the second time she got to see him in the flesh ...

Happy birthday, she had thought, Aral's arm around her had tightened enough to hurt, his muffled laugh in her ear as Dr. Ritter had cut Miles out of his biological packaging, slicing through the nutrient tubing. Her heart swelled as Miles gave his first cry, weak and thin compared to his cousin Ivan's angry, hungry bellow at his birth. She blinked back her own tears as she took in his tiny, wizened, and wrinkled form. His spine noticeably deformed, legs frozen in a tight bend, but he kept breathing, kept fighting for every breath. Alive. My son ... ]

[dendarii]

[ Oh. He's taken aback by how small he looks - but more importantly, by the amazement he can feel coming from his mother. Proud to have him even in such a tiny, deformed state. How much more, then, must she be happy to see him alive and mobile twenty years later ...

He chokes a little himself, trying to hold back tears. ]

[keep_nothing]

[ She leans in close again, cupping his face and wiping under his eyes as if the tears had already fallen. Her own eyes were pools too. ]

Now you see the joy you give us.