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

[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.

[use_everything]

Democratic. [There's a tone that most Barrayarans use to discuss topics like women in political posts or doing away with horses.

Aral reserves it for certain political philosophies.]

Possessed with some Betan sophistry that all battlefields can be won with the same tactics.

[dendarii]

Well. That cuts both ways, you know. We may learn something from her.

[use_everything]

I've no intentions of discarding the parts even if the whole of it is ill-suited.

[A faint sigh and some pre-emptive bracing.]

I merely don't look forward to when your mother meets her.

[As one does not keep Cordelia, from or at anywhere. The idea never even registers.]

[dendarii]

[ Oh god. He's grinning - and terrified in equal amounts. It's as much a defense mechanism as anything else. ]

That will be amazing. And potentially explosive.

[use_everything]

I plan to be no where near it. [There's a crack of dry humor there, under the long suffering expression.]

I likewise encourage a tactical retreat before the word "constitution" drops, and some decent wine.

[dendarii]

Ah, see, you're missing all the fun. I think I'd prefer a front row seat.

[use_everything]

Hm.

[The sound had a doubtful air of "suit yourself."]

[dendarii]

Hm, indeed.

[ And that is very much a "I'll do what I want." Miles has relaxed, finally, having found some kind of even footing with his father. He reaches out carefully - suppressing a wince - and awkwardly moves to slide the dagger back into its sheath. ]

[use_everything]

[He doesn't move to help, having picked up enough of Miles to see the blazingly obvious. It would hurt far more than it would help. Still, there's some relief in see him take it back, no matter how painful that looked. An acceptance after the last hour was more than he expected. The relief was sharp, a little poignant.]

Speaking of your mother, I should message her.

[This was not a discussion he was looking forward to having. Hello, dear. I nearly killed our son.]

[dendarii]

[ Miles winces too - that will not be a fun conversation. ]

... Tell her it was my fault if need be. Because it is the truth, you know.

[use_everything]

I wont have to tell her anything.

One look.

[dendarii]

[ He just. Sighs, softly. ]

I do wish you'd contacted me over the network first. I could have explained.

[use_everything]

I find anger pushes anything good or wise from me.

[He lets his gaze drop. It wasn't anything to do with HIM.]

You had used her name, her father's name in whole, and took to insult what I saw as my son. The combination lead to a loss of my intentions and better sense.