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]

... The same to you as well. There are few things you don't know, eventually.

[ A few collected secrets over the years, ones his mind won't even flit to even thinking about the subject in general. ]

[use_everything]

[An eyebrow lifts and there's a rumble of curiosity.]

Hm. [Then, a nod followed.] Naturally, you are your own man.

[dendarii]

Of course. My own hells and triumphs included. I'd rather not inflict the former on you.

[use_everything]

And the latter is rarely free of the former.

Still, it's not you I worry on. The number of men sworn to me, however temporarily, is somewhat sobering.

[dendarii]

[ Miles puzzles at that comment for a moment. ]

What do you mean? Here? It's only me, technically.

[use_everything]

Indeed.

But that is not guaranteed to stay fixed.

[dendarii]

... I hardly intend to take on more armsmen. Are you?

[use_everything]

God, no.

... Though it may not honestly be an issue. Gregor had attained his majority... It will take some adjusting to remember.

[dendarii]

[ Miles can't hide the faintly wicked gleam that comes into his eyes at that. It makes him look very much like his mother. ]

That's right, Gregor is in charge now. I wish you luck in adjusting.

[use_everything]

[There's a start, an almost comical blink at the resemblance. It took no connection to see the warm humor in his eyes, even so he put on a dour show.]

Frankly, my boy, he can take the job.

[dendarii]

[ Heh. He might be getting the hang of this. ]

Oh, certainly. I have no doubt of that. But in my time, that just shifts you from Regent to Prime Minister.

[use_everything]

You know, I had non-com in Academy who predicted I'd never know when to quit.

I imagine that was a discussion or two back at the house.

[dendarii]

Frequently, and at great length. [ A pause as a though occurs to him. ] Perhaps this can be a vacation then. Gregor and I are trying to take it as such.

[use_everything]

[There's kind of a stutter there, an almost cautious uncertainty.]

...

We'll see.

[dendarii]

Just consider it. It's possible to just get up and leave if you want - go anywhere on the planet. No messes waiting for you back home except Gregor and I.

[use_everything]

It has appeal. You're mother is here as well, you know.

[It's honest. He shifts through thought, refocusing on the day. He pauses, a dry brush of irritation with it.]

I'm going to take it you know a Miss Jones.

[dendarii]

[ Oh shit. All the color goes out of Miles' face. He's not sure which he likes less - Aral upholding the cover, or upending it. Neither is a pleasant thought. ]

... You encountered her?

[use_everything]

You have a staunch, if somewhat irrational, protector.

[dendarii]

Yes ... yes, she would ...

Whatever we do with the cover, we must clarify that point. You can't be Lord Vorkosigan to her. Everything will fall apart.

[use_everything]

By some lucky whim, I used Admiral as my title.

[He spreads his hands.]

It seemed slightly less obtrusive in this world. But yes... it wasn't until after I took my leave I saw what she was needling at.

[dendarii]

[ He lets out a breath. God, how to play this ... Kitty is too damn smart for her own good. ]

Let me guess: entirely too many leading questions about clones? And whether you consider them to be people?

[use_everything]

The former. The latter was interrupted by a discussion of political systems over coffee.

[Enjoy picturing how THAT went.]

[dendarii]

[ Miles manages one hilarious mental image before he bursts out laughing. ]

Oh no.

[use_everything]

So.

This is a normal affliction she carries. Good to know.

[dendarii]

Yes. It's delightful, usually, and her ideas are good ones, just - impractical. Democratic to the core.