[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

[vorbarra]

[It's rather like having a nerve disrupter, in Gregor's opinion. If you have one, it suddenly becomes an option for every problem. It limits your thinking dangerously.

He sends across his trust in Miles that he would uphold his word-- not inconsequential after that mess with the Dendarii, he's aware-- but then says dryly,] I do hope you're not planning on testing my untried supernatural ability by pushing its limits. At least not until you have your medico-attaché.

[dendarii]

[ Unfair, Gregor. That trust practically counts as a weapon all by itself. ]

Would you approve after I have one?

[vorbarra]

[Oh, he's aware. He never said he plays fair.

Gregor eyes him. He's read those reports, Miles, he knows how well you slip through loopholes.] Under controlled circumstances, namely that I'm present, [he concedes.] I admit it would be useful knowledge to have, but I won't risk you for our curiosity. If I'm there, you can just-- talk to me about your dreadful Vorkosigan maple mead or something in order to escape the consequences.

[dendarii]

[ He has to concede that that's the smarter way to do it. As much as he sort of wants to just skip off and see how long he can go without. No, no ... a spiritual breaking of his promise, even if it is in the name of testing. Not acceptable. ]

Sensible as always. All right, we can do it that way.

[vorbarra]

[He's given you things to do now, Miles, don't go crying boredom as an excuse for recklessness.]

Thank you. [There's some wry relief at his agreement. Gregor's under no illusions about his ability to corral Miles if he doesn't want to be corralled. A hawk indeed.] Did you get anything else yourself, or just the... [He gestures at his head.]

[dendarii]

[ He will try very hard, okay. Jeez.

At that, Miles thumbs at the side of his face thoughtfully. ]

I felt ... something like a lock closing? I don't know if it came from you or me, though.

[vorbarra]

No, I meant... if you acquired any new abilities.

Although I assume the locking sensation was me. I felt it, too.

[dendarii]

[ Ah. Ahaha. Ever so sneakily, he clamps down on his side of the link. Super subtle. Not noticeable in the least. Yep. ]

Er ... yes. A couple things. Completely useless, I'm afraid.

[vorbarra]

[Really.

Gregor sounds entirely mild, if just a touch exasperated.] Miles...

[dendarii]

[ Damn this link. And/or damn Gregor for being himself. He just sighs heavily in return. ]

I'm telling the the truth. They aren't practical.

[vorbarra]

I believe you. But when you go squirrely, it usually means something.

[dendarii]

It doesn't necessarily mean something important...

[vorbarra]

If we're going to go on, I have to trust your judgement, [Gregor sighs,] but I do hope you don't end up later regretting not having told me.

[It's rather hard to follow his cues to play along with their lies if he doesn't know what he's covering up, if nothing else.]

[dendarii]

[ And Miles doesn't particularly want to hide things from Gregor, he's just ... Embarrassed. Maybe he shouldn't be. But he likes pretending he still has pride. He quiets for a moment as he thinks. ]

Teleportation and shape-shifting.

[vorbarra]

[That wasn't what he was expecting. Gregor's eyebrows go up.]

So you can be in two different places at once, as two different people?

[dendarii]

Not ... exactly. There are caveats. Limitations.

[ He's still acting squirrelly about it. ]

[vorbarra]

[And he knows how Miles feels about limitations.]

Hm. That make them... less than useful?

[He's careful not to press him on what, precisely, those limitations are if he doesn't want to say.]

[dendarii]

[ Good call, that. Miles is more likely to let something slip if he starts talking, anyway. Once it becomes his own idea.

As for that... Hmm. He has an idea. Snagging his empty cup, he gets to his feet. ]

Are you ready to go back to the house, Greg?

[vorbarra]

If that means you're going to demonstrate, I am exceedingly ready.

[Gregor follows him to his feet with composed alacrity, gathering up his own mug.]

We can leave them at the busser's station. Did you know, I was never actually sure what happened with dirty plates before this. They always just disappeared from my sight.

[The idle speculation of sheltered child-emperors.]

[dendarii]

[ Miles can't help but grin a little at that. ]

It took me longer than I care to admit... But really, was this your first time realizing?

[ Gentle ribbing again. He's relaxed now that he's decided to show one of his abilities, at least. ]

[vorbarra]

I knew they got washed, obviously, but the actual process of collecting them... [Gregor shrugs.] I do sneak into the kitchens at the Residence sometimes, [he confesses,] but everything's already clean since it's at night.

[Much better than laying there making nightmares of his genes in his head.

He's relaxing as Miles relaxes, content that it can't be as bad as all that if Miles is back to teasing him again. He directs them to the busser's station, deposits their dishware in the bin, and sets out, still enjoying the distinct sensation of having absolutely no one whatsoever care where he goes or when.]

[dendarii]

[ Miles raises an eyebrow at his Emperor. He's not headed for the door even after dropping off his dishes - he's waiting by the door to the bathroom, in fact. (He could probably use the sewer outside but this seems a little less disgusting.) ]

What were you doing in the kitchens that late at night? Surely not a snack.

[vorbarra]

[Gregor's not sure why they're heading toward the bathroom, but assumes he needs to wash his hands or something.

Anyone else would get an evasive response on this, but he knows Miles will read into his answer to the truth. There's another quiet pang of awkwardness from Gregor as he admits evenly,] Just a distraction when I couldn't sleep. [There's a short, unwitting flash of the Residence kitchens, a wide open huge space kept in meticulous perfection, and a teenage Gregor sitting on a counter in the quiet darkness, picking idly at a snack. Miles was right-- the snack was just an excuse.]

[dendarii]

[ Ah. Miles straightens a bit at the sudden flicker of memory. An apologetic swirl of emotion in return - he hadn't meant to provoke Gregor into sharing that. But now he's seen it... He wishes he had a similar one to show back. He waits by the bathroom quietly. ]

That sort of distraction... You didn't talk to anyone? What about my mother?

[ Surely her, at least. ]

[vorbarra]

I don't want to bother your lady mother every time, [he says wryly, indicating that, well, that had been rather a regular feature.] It's fine, Miles. I can actually go for a walk when it happens here.

[He shakes his head at the thought. But really, he doesn't want them to get sidetracked into his embarrassing, depressing night habits.

He goes to stand by the sink and glances around.] Is there some reason you've brought me into the bathroom?