[IC] TEST POST

[dendarii]

[ 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. ]

Comments

[dendarii]

[ If Spock hadn't been looking at him so intently, he might have missed the brief moment of recognition in Miles' face. It's terribly subtle anyway, the very slight nod that he almost slides into. A privileged life, yes. Not alone, not with Bothari and Elena and Gregor, but lonely. Especially on that afternoon with his book.

But that doesn't fit his cover. He hesitates as he finds himself trying to find an explanation for this that makes sense. Alone, good, start there-- ]

Yes, very much so. I was enamored with the concept. Lonely nobility. Then again, don't we all want something we can't have?

[scienceping]

[ The intensity of his look continues for a couple more heartbeats before he ends it. If Miles really wants it kept a secret, then Spock will keep his secret too. ]

Such is the nature of Humans.

[dendarii]

[ Damn, but Vulcans are intense. He's glad Spock wasn't there when he was taking over his mercenary fleet by accident. ]

Yes. If I count in that regard.

[ Quick, seed the rest of his cover while he still can. If he still can. ]

[scienceping]

You are Human, are you not?

[dendarii]

I'm a clone of a human. Correct.

[scienceping]

... Fascinating

[dendarii]

It's - an unpleasant and complicated story, but the short of it is that I was made to replace my progenitor. And then I escaped.

[scienceping]

Escaped?

[dendarii]

Yes, escaped. And started the Free Mercenaries, and so on.

[scienceping]

You found the role of which you were cloned for distasteful?

[dendarii]

I had no interest in it, and they were unpleasant regardless. Better to be a free man.

[scienceping]

And are you?

[dendarii]

As free as anyone can be.

... There, that's a lot more than I was planning to say about myself. Why were you studying Shakespeare?

[scienceping]

[ There's a small pause as he considers how to answer, roughly only one second. ]

My family possessed his works on physical media, an original edition. As I had been familiar only with handheld devices up to that point, I had become curious of the media. My mother would supervise my studies of the tome until I had grown old enough to not damage the fragile paper accidentally.

[dendarii]

Are Terran texts so popular on Vulcan then?

[scienceping]

Perhaps only to those who studies include literature of different races.

[dendarii]

Therefore your family's studies must have included human works. Why is that?

[scienceping]

Two reasons in particular: my father was the Vulcan Ambassador to Earth, and my mother was Human.

[ Said almost without any inflection at all. ]

[dendarii]

[ Ah. There it is. ]

An unusual combination?

[scienceping]

If you are referring to the marriage of my parents, then affirmative. To my knowledge, I am the only known Vulcan-Human hybrid.

[dendarii]

... That must have been difficult.

[scienceping]

How so?

[ That complete emotionless expression returns, giving absolutely nothing away here. ]

[dendarii]

[ That just means he's on the right track. He pulls relentlessly from the same experience he denies having. ]

Different from your peers. Mocked by some, seen as a pioneer for everything you do by others. You have to live as something larger than yourself.

[scienceping]

Your first two points are valid, though I would not agree with your third.

[dendarii]

No? How so?