[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]

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?

[dendarii]

[ He's not going to just let this drop, okay. But he shelves it for now, with a mental: Take me with you next time. Finding him in that state, practically alone... No, he never wants to go through that again. If nothing else, he can be here for Gregor.

Right. Focus. He turns on the water in the sink and wets one hand. While it's not strictly necessary, he finds it helps. He holds his dry hand out to Gregor. ]

I told you there was a caveat.

[vorbarra]

[Are you sure, Miles... Feel free to drop it. He sends back a hurried acquiescence with the sense of something being shuffled under a rug, Gregor's strong desire for privacy reasserting itself. He's always been the sort to lick his wounds alone.

Whether he asks him along next time or not, he's not sure yet.

For the moment, Gregor is looking alert with intent interest, unable to fathom where this is going but ready all the same. He takes Miles's hand, feeling a small thrill of going on an adventure. He never gets to do things like this unless it's with Miles. He'd felt that way even as a kid.]

Water is the caveat?

[dendarii]

[ He's going to be stubborn, dammit. No more sudden trips from windows.

Sudden trips through plumbing, well... Hopefully this was the adventure Gregor was hoping for just now. The room around them fades into darkness and the sensation of rushing water. Then, just a few moments later, the two of them come out into the upstairs bathroom, and not in the slightest bit gracefully. They'll both be soaking wet, for starters, and Miles comes out at an awkward angle in the bathtub. He yelps a bit - more surprise than pain - when he bangs his head on the faucet. He groans faintly afterwards, trying to sit up. ]

As I said. Caveats.

[vorbarra]

[He's not going to try that again, he would swear. He'd just been very drunk that night, and learning about his father had pushed him over the edge a bit literally.

Gregor couldn't say what he was expecting but it certainly wasn't this. He staggers on exit, hurriedly grasping the nearest support-- the sink-- and gasps, breathing hard in shock at the sensation of being suddenly wet more than the whoosh of pipe travel.]

I-- is this our upstairs bathroom? Damn, you were not kidding-- [Gregor doesn't precisely do shocked in tone of voice but he certainly looks it for a second, raking his hand through his wet hair to get it out of his face. The gesture makes him notice Miles attempting to sit up and he quickly reaches down to give him a hand.]

You okay? Does that take it out of you?

[dendarii]

[ Miles gladly takes it, as he's having trouble getting to his feet safely with his feet slippery. He would never live down breaking a bone by falling in the damned bathtub, of all things. (And he's sure Gregor would feel guilty for causing it if so.) He manages to get himself upright again, leaning against Gregor for a moment until he has his balance back.

He also takes a moment to consider his energy levels. Hmm, yes, he definitely feels more tired than he was before, but not as much as the first time he'd tried it. The café wasn't too terribly far from their house. ]

-- Fine, fine. Depends on distance - that one wasn't bad.

[ Mostly his head is throbbing a bit. He can just about feel his forehead starting to purple, but nothing is broken. ]

[vorbarra]

[So assured that Miles hasn't broken anything-- no matter how old they get, Cordelia's sober request for his assistance in keeping Miles from smashing into walls the second his casts came off when Gregor was ten is instilled in him to automatic habit and caring-- Gregor offers his arm to help him climb out of the tub without further incident.

Then he grabs one of the nearby bath towels and dumps it on Miles's head, snagging the other one for himself and toeing off his squelching shoes as he complains,] You could've warned me.

Still, as desperate escapes go, this would be a great one.

[dendarii]

Could've. Chose not to.

[ Your own fault, Gregor Vorbarra, for insisting on seeing his stupid dumbass powers. He grins, though, and gladly starts toweling himself off as soon as he's sure he won't fall over. Shoes off, pant legs at least rolled up to keep them from dragging soggily on the floor. (He needs to hit up some of those crafty folks on the network and get something custom-made, because he's sure tired of either wearing his uniform or hating his life.) ]

Terrible for sneaking in, though. I'd squelch the whole way.

[vorbarra]

[He actually doesn't regret it, however much of an inconvenience it is. There's always going to be some small part of him that thoroughly relishes each new experience outside of his sheltered box.]

Getting into trouble is never your problem, [he mutters, the sound indistinct as he towels off his hair. He watches him rolling up his pant legs and comments,] We need to find you a tailor. I think we could afford something by now. At any rate, we can't stay like this-- I for one am going to change.

[dendarii]

... True. Having a guaranteed route out would be nice for a change.

[ And - ah. Tailors. He makes a bit of a face - the issue of money is something he's had to adjust to here. Not that he'd ben spoiled - not in Vorkosigan House - but it's his first time taking care of himself financially, and tailors are expensive. He longs for having something fitted to him out of a computer, if just for his basics. ]

Yes, well, tailors aren't going to help me right now.

[ Gregor sure has the right idea about changing clothes, though. He gives the emperor a wave, like "go on without me." ]

[vorbarra]

Consider it put on the task list, then.

[Gregor gives him an ironic analyst's salute back and walks out, going the one door down to his room to change. He still takes some small satisfaction out of pulling on utterly mundane clothes, loose black trousers and a button-up shirt, and pulling them on after finishing drying himself off.

He walks out in his socks to knock on Miles's closed door. Another utterly mundane action.]

Decent yet?

[dendarii]

[ Miles waves a bit sarcastically in return. Right, clothes ... He makes a face once he's alone in his room. There are few options that don't look slightly ridiculous on him, other than his Dendarii uniform. Which is in the wash elsewhere. If it weren't 10 AM he'd just put pajamas on ... Those are something he definitely likes. Next best thing is a jeans and t-shirt combo. Incredibly casual, but in less need of tailoring than anything else he has.

By the time Gregor knocks on his door, he's just finishing shrugging on his shirt. He opens the door a moment later. ]

More or less. Pardon the casual wear, sire.

[vorbarra]

[Gregor snorts.] Do you call me sire just to tweak me sometimes? [He ducks into the room and lets Miles close the door behind him. Not very covert if their housemates can overhear all of their conversations, though he's not sure if any are home now.]

I almost bought some of those, but I wasn't sure I'd recognize myself in the mirror. [Aside from his adventure to the Hegen Hub, Gregor exclusively wears a selection of uniforms, livery, or what passes for casual for him in military-esque suits. What he's wearing right now is as far as he'd felt confident deviating from that when he'd gone shopping his first week here. The whole department store experience had bemused him thoroughly.]