dendarii | [IC] TEST POST

[ Miles Vorkosigan cuts an unusual figure even under the most extraordinary circumstances: tiny and somewhat hunchbacked, his curved spine obvious even beneath his custom-cut Imperial Security green military uniform. Unless you're bitty like him (and he's met few adults below his height of 4'8"), he likely comes up to your shoulder or a little lower.

There is, however, a manic energy to the man that makes him fill up more than his physical space. Sharp, penetrating gray eyes take in the world around him as great refreshing gulps of information. Depending on the situation, he may be taking in you as well. ]

A - Canon

[ In his case, you suddenly find yourself in an empty and rather old-fashioned looking house. Old-fashioned except for the high tech consoles installed in various areas, anyway, and if one looks out the window a relatively sci-fi-esque view can be seen interspersed with vaguely Russian architecture. Miles looks up, startled by your sudden appearance. ]

I'm sorry, have we met?

[ In other words, how the hell did you just waltz into the Vorkosoigan House without him being alerted by the guards? Visiting his father or mother, maybe? That's the only thing coming to mind. ]

B - Mask or Menace

[ Staring, Miles can deal with. It's depressingly normal and almost comforting, given the circumstances. But having people approach him like some kind of celebrity is damned unsettling. It feels like some awful combination of being both Lord Vorkosigan and Admiral Naismith at the same time ... which is technically true, but he's not enough at ease with himself to cross those wires just yet.

Speaking of which. He fixes a brilliant smile on his face as his confident swagger threatens to knock over anyone within a five meter radius of him. The space operatic Admiral Naismith persona in full force and practically spilling over. After all, when faced with a wall, Miles tends to charge right the hell on through. First obstacle to be defeated: finding out what the hell is going on and why his head is feeling strangely full all of a sudden.

He's about twenty or so, though with a face like his he could be anywhere between early twenties and early thirties. The tell-tale import barcode flickers at his wrist; he hasn't quite realized what that means for himself or anyone else. In a remarkably flat, pseudo-American accent: ]

You know, I think I've gotten myself lost. Any chance you're more familiar with this place?

[ Heropa is where he's come out first, but by now he could be in any of the Porter cities. ]

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Of course.

[ But, it has to be noted, her flush is getting darker, rather than lessening. ]

We're moving towards the future, aren't we. That sort of prejudice belongs to the past.

Edited 2015-12-19 22:35 (UTC)

I'm glad you think so. Would be embarrassing otherwise.

Of course I think so! Have you heard me - say anything like that - even once? Even when I was being rude to you.

[ She says, like she's not rude now. ]

[ A little rude maybe. It's kind of nice. ]

No, not at all. Not in front of me.

See? And it's not like most people keep it to themselves. Not even with you a Vor lord. Am I right?

Exceedingly right. Though they've grown more cautious over the years.

And I'm very incautious.

True enough. Well, I appreciate it.

[ That makes her frown a little bit. ]

You oughtn't thank me just for having common decency.

Less common than one would think.

[ He leans forward again, elbows leaning on his knees. ]

In any case. Your goal will succeed, if not your revolution.

[ She shakes her head and corrects him, lying through her teeth - ]

Reform. Reform's what we want.

[ And then she takes a moment to look him over. ]

You really think so?

[ He shrugs a bit, as if to say "what's the difference?" ]

Yes, I do. The Count are already a form of democracy, if not at all the kind you're thinking of. If we pave the way with a council for my district, many things will follow.

So you're confident in yourself. In your ability to make change, once you're given the opportunity.

Mostly I know I don't tend to be daunted by walls. Forward momentum.

[ She smiles in spite of herself. ]

I can admire that, I'll admit. And admire that you've managed so much hardheadedness in spite of having fragile bones.

[ He grins a bit at that. ]

Had to be tough somewhere, right?

Best place for it.

[ Then: ]

What did you mean when you said that you had to struggle? To survive.

[ Ah. That ... gets into some details he probably shouldn't divulge. It seems a disservice to his grandfather, among other things. ]

Appearing to have unclean genes is not good for one's survival.

Yeah, but -

[ She frowns in surprise. ]

Not for Vor.

[ His mouth quirks a bit at that, like he's tasting something bitter in his mouth. Very, very dryly: ]

You would be surprised.

So - someone tried to murder you? [ Then, with a wave of acknowledgment of their current circumstances: ] Someone else tried to murder you, when you were a baby.

[ Miles' expression lightens a bit at Kitty's clarification. An important distinction for him. ]

Correct.

Not...

[ This is such a personal thing to ask. But - ]

Not your father?

[ She doesn't even need to ask about his mother. The job of infanticide more often fell to the mother than to the father, yeah, but the famous Cordelia wouldn't ever. Kitty knows that without even having met her. ]

[ That closes something off in him. He's been free with a lot of information tonight, but he draws the line at this. His relationship with Piotr was too complicated to boil down into this binary state. ]

Are you going to continue guessing names until I react one way or the other?

[ She gives a little shrug, but studies him intently. ]

I probably could. I thing I do know a fair portion of your family tree.

(no subject)

dendarii - 2015-12-27 17:46 (UTC) - Expand

rathercommon - 2015-12-27 20:53 (UTC) - Expand