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]

[ He's more than happy to relax into both, sinking into that fondness all the more. ]

Sorry. I - you must tire of saying it so often.

[keep_nothing]

Never.

[dendarii]

[ Dammit, here his voice goes cracking again. Too overwhelmed with emotion, all that brightness pouring straight down the abyss that is his self-worth issues. (But oh so soothing in the moment.) ]

Mother...

[keep_nothing]

[ She leans in all the more, closing the distance of their minds, her love and complete and utter acceptance of him shining all the stronger. ]

Just remember it.

[dendarii]

[ He shivers a little in her arms. It's almost too much, like putting his hand in a fire. ]

I - I will. I promise.

[keep_nothing]

[ Oops,she's getting this link stuff wrong again. She slowly withdraws again, or ties to, until it's no longer that blinding light but just a warm glow, unwavering and constant so long as their link is open. ]

[dendarii]

[ Better. He doesn't feel quite so gloriously scorched now. ]

Sorry, it gets rather intense sometimes.

[keep_nothing]

I would imagine so. Was it like that when you [ gestures vaguely in the direction of their heads ] with Gregor? With that deep dive?

[dendarii]

Multiplied even more so, yes. I can still feel it sometimes. Like a brand.

[keep_nothing]

Ah, no wonder you're still sensitive from it.

[dendarii]

Yes. It's ... not bad at all. I feel as though it's sealed off something worse.

[keep_nothing]

Sealed off?

[dendarii]

Cauterizing a wound. -- Don't tell Gregor though, he'll think he injured me. Quite the opposite.

[keep_nothing]

[ She's sharing the same thoughts here, frowning lightly at him. She just doesn't know enough about this link yet. She wished it came with a manual. ]

What kind of wound?

[dendarii]

... I'm not sure, to be honest. But I feel better. Patched up.

[keep_nothing]

[ She starts combing her fingers through his hair again, gentle and intimate. ]

Were you so wounded before it?

[dendarii]

I'm not sure either. Probably like my bones - no idea I was hurting until it was gone.

[ He leans into it fondly. ]

Gregor helped me discover that, you know. He's been so good about walking me through my powers.

[keep_nothing]

Yeah?

[dendarii]

Yeah. Uh - early experiments did not go well. Taller is ridiculously uncomfortable.

[keep_nothing]

Your bone structure probably couldn't support it.

[dendarii]

More or less. I haven't broken anything trying, but I rebound rather badly afterwards. Poor Gregor got dragged along the first time.

[keep_nothing]

Rebound, huh? What does that entail?

[dendarii]

Snapping back down to a much smaller size. Gregor and I were at roughly half my baseline that time. Fainted after another one ...

[keep_nothing]

So no growing larger, huh?

[ She can guess at how that makes him feel. ]

[dendarii]

Yes. It's not fair.

[ Pretty much that, yep. ]