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]

Oh, Miles. I'm so sorry.

[dendarii]

[ He shrugs a little, the ache still burning in his chest. ]

One last disappointment to speed him on his way.

[keep_nothing]

[ His shrug causes her to ache as well, both physically and emotionally. No matter how much she hated Piotr at the moment, it was clear he meant a great deal to Miles.

She leans in again despite the aches, wrapping her arms around him again. She knows it won't help. But. ]

But look at what you did since then. He'd be proud of that.

[dendarii]

[ That only makes his shoulders ache worse, but at least Cordelia's taking it and not him. He leans back against her, comfort taking the edge off his pain regardless. ]

I ... I hope so. I did end up in the service in the end.

[keep_nothing]

In a very flashy manner too. Maybe he'd be impressed.

[dendarii]

Very possibly.

[ Or would he scorn Miles' roundabout route? Hell. He doesn't know. No sense in wondering too much. ]

Iillyan is terribly frustrated with me, though.

[keep_nothing]

I can't imagine why.

[dendarii]

I seem to keep getting into scrapes. And I am terrible at being subordinate.

[keep_nothing]

You would think he'd be used to that even by my time. Poor man.

[dendarii]

And yet. I hope not to make him hate his life too much.

[keep_nothing]

Maybe pace yourself?

[dendarii]

Never. Full speed or full stop, that's all I know.

[keep_nothing]

The full stop being running into a wall?

[ Amazing how his mother picked that up so easily of him. ]

[dendarii]

Less often than one would think.

[ Absolutely his mother. ]

[keep_nothing]

Sidestepping to aim for another wall, delaying the inevitable?

[dendarii]

I was thinking more about barrelling straight through it. With no thought to speed or safety.

[keep_nothing]

That's my boy.

[dendarii]

Whom do I take after more, then? You or Da?

[keep_nothing]

I believe he would say me.

[dendarii]

I could see that.

[keep_nothing]

Oh could you.

[dendarii]

I've heard stories, at least. Wild ones. Something about vomiting being the only reason Da didn't shoot you on sight?

[keep_nothing]

[ She gives a faint grown with one hand half-covering her face, exasperation and amusement mingled along the link. She wished Aral would stop telling it like that. ]

I had a serious concussion at the time. But yes, I probably would've tried to reach for a weapon or even a rock had my stomach not rebelled.

[dendarii]

[ Gosh. It's cute. Miles can't help but grin fondly. ]

I'm glad that you didn't, then.

[keep_nothing]

Me too, but how is that an example of me rushing into things?