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 reopens her eyes when she hears him, not being able to see it from the inside. ]

What?

[dendarii]

It's - rather beautiful, actually. This iridescent bubble all around you.

[ He reaches out hesitantly, stopping just short of touching it. ]

[keep_nothing]

[ Watching his hand, eyes darting around herself too. ]

I don't see it ...

[dendarii]

It's right here. I'm going to touch it, all right?

[ He inches just close enough to make contact. ]

[keep_nothing]

I'm not sure that's—

[ There's a split second when he does touch it, cold and it gives a little under his touch—then it zaps at him, sending a shock through his whole body. ]

[dendarii]

[ Ow. The jolt goes through him - out the other side of his link, onwards towards Aral and/or Gregor. Meanwhile he has the most uncomfortable sense of a rubber band warping somewhere inside his head. He shoots back up to normal - past it by a few inches - and then back down again, slowly wobbling his way back towards baseline. The combination of the two at once was, quite frankly, nauseating. ]

[keep_nothing]

[ Cordelia flinches too, though not because of the feedback along the link, that was reflected away from her. Instead she got the agonizing jolt of Miles' pain at shooting up in size, the ache suddenly becoming agony at the rubber band snapping up and back. She hisses in a breath through clenched teeth. ]

[dendarii]

[ He wasn't kidding about it being worse to get larger. Those few inches above his baseline are worse than anything below it combined. With a faint gasp of his own, he manages to wrestle both powers back under control and settles, solidly, back against the couch. ]

-- Mother? Are you okay?

[keep_nothing]

[ Thanks, son. She takes a couple breaths before speaking, forcing herself still so she doesn't shake in front of Miles. That had hurt. ]

I'm fine. Guess it works, huh?

[dendarii]

Yes ... yes, I suppose it does. No need to test it further.

[ He swallows kind of thickly himself. ]

[keep_nothing]

Good to know.

[ Though she doesn't sound very glad of it at the moment. She eases back into the couch for a moment, needing to relax and let her muscles unwind from the sudden stress. ]

[dendarii]

[ Good job, Miles. Hurting your own mother with your nonsense. His sense of guilt is keen over the link. ]

... Sorry. I hadn't realized how badly that would backfire.

[keep_nothing]

[ She turns her head to face him, only causing a little tweak of ache in her neck. she reaches for his hand, trying to reassure him physically as well as through the link. ]

It's all right. I had an idea, just ... It's fine, Miles. Really.

[dendarii]

[ He still ducks his head, the curve in his back more readily visible. ]

Yes - well - you can blame me too. This is typical for me. Rushing headlong into things.

[keep_nothing]

[ The corner of her mouth turns upward, somewhat self-deprecatingly. ]

Wonder where you get that from.

[dendarii]

[ Ha. He can't help but mirror her expression. ]

From both of you, but ... mostly you.

[keep_nothing]

Hey!

[dendarii]

Can you really deny it? I've heard the stories.

[keep_nothing]

That depends on which stories you're referring to. I've been accused of many that weren't mine, you know.

[dendarii]

What about nearly drowning your therapist in a fish tank to get back to Da? Is that one real?

[keep_nothing]

[ She grimaces slightly, a hand partly covering her face. Definitely the truth. ]

We told you about that?

[dendarii]

The Koudelka sisters did. And they got it from Drou.

[keep_nothing]

[ Her eyes snap open. ]

The who?

[dendarii]

[ Oh. Right. Twenty years. Have any of them been born yet? ]

Er - Drou and Koudelka. They had four daughters, all blonde and tall and intimidating. Ivan and I usually end up with one of them at formal events, like the Emperor's Birthday.

[keep_nothing]

Four daughters?

[ She looks positively pleased at hearing that, echoing it in the link along with some amusement. Poor Kou. ]