[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]

[ 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.]

[dendarii]

Yes, sire. [ He says with an even wider grin. He's sure they don't have company today because he made sure that their roommates were fed up enough with him to evacuate for a few hours. (If he has to keep the house locked down, might as well have fun with it ... )

Still, he gladly shuts the door. In case someone does come back. His room has his bed and an armchair for sitting on; he claims the edge of his bed, thus allowing Gregor a choice between the two. ]

You should try it at least once, I think. It is remarkably comfortable once you stop feeling half-naked..

[vorbarra]

[Gregor's eventually going to catch on about why their housemates are always gone when Miles is home to talk with him. For now, though, he's clueless.

Miles's irreverent response actually provokes an amused smile out of him. He instinctively takes the armchair, used to being seated alone, but he at least lounges back in it with none of his public persona of constructed composure. The moment the door closes Gregor feels a certain amount of relief at knowing no one but Miles is observing him; even mentally, a held tension eases.]

Is it really? [he muses.] Then I guess I will. [He flicks his gaze over.] We should celebrate our ridiculous, inconvenient powers. I find it supremely disappointing you don't keep wine in your room, Lord Vorkosigan.

[Unless he does?]

[dendarii]

[ Ah, good. Miles relaxes too; he leans back on his forearms, enjoying the quiet. This is even better than the café, for him.

At the mention of wine though ... Miles groans faintly. If only he had wine in his room. If only he had wine at all. ]

I would normally, thank you very much. The trouble is acquiring it. Did you know there's a legal minimum age for purchase here?

[ Not that that stops him from procuring it, but he feels bad enough getting the seller in trouble that he's procured less of it lately. ]

[vorbarra]

[That garners him a second glance.]

A legal minimum age? [He sounds doubtful.] For alcohol? And you don't meet it? I thought you were twenty.

[Being historically Russian culture strikes again.]

[dendarii]

I am twenty. Apparently the legal age is twenty-one. So unless you've purchased some, I unfortunately have none.

[vorbarra]

[Twenty-one sounds ridiculously old to Gregor for drinking, but more importantly, Miles has come up only one year shy.

He tries to disguise his laughter as a cough into his hand, but is not really successful. He didn't try very hard.]

So I should be supplying for you? What a reversal. Ah... I'll make a trip. Later. [Right now he feels rather like being lazy. Having the freedom to be lazy hasn't gotten old, either.]

[dendarii]

[ Even if he had been able to hide it, Miles would have felt his amusement through the link. He just shoots back a feeling of friendly exaperation in response. ]

Later, yes. I like doing this. Just - sitting like this. I've done this with Ivan, but not you.

[vorbarra]

[It's just not often that Miles runs up against such an asinine rule. Usually he topples them before him. His exasperation is inherently funny.]

It is novel, isn't it? [His humor fades into generally feeling at ease, relaxing back into the chair. Just... sitting, as he'd said.] You should get detained by ImpSec more often and I'd visit you.

What do you talk about with Ivan when you do this?

[dendarii]

Sorry, Gregor, but even that wouldn't be enough. I half went mad after the Kyril Island incident.

[ He's joking. Mostly. As much as it would be nice to get to see Gregor on a casual basis. ]

Ah, well ... it's Ivan, what do you think? Drinking and women.

[vorbarra]

[He's joking, too. Though he doesn't see another way he'd get to see Miles more frequently, at home-- Miles does his level best to stay off-planet as much as possible, it seems, like every other career-mad young Vor, and Gregor can't blame them.

He'd rather talk about Ivan than his depressing fate being dirtbound.]

And you have... opinions on drinking and women? [It's never seemed like Miles has done much of either. At least not enough to come to Gregor's attention about it.]

[dendarii]

[ At least Miles' ambition is different. If no less spectacular in the results. Moreso. ]

They're both fine things, but Ivan does more of both. As always. [ He huffs a bit. ] Besides, that's Ivan. Ivan is ... a good friend, but really, I don't talk to him for intelligent conversation. The opposite, in fact.

[vorbarra]

[Ivan can't be as stupid as all that, if by genes alone, but Gregor understands the need to put up a facade in order to escape responsibility. He's never gotten to do that, but he understands it.]

So you talk to him for unintelligent conversation? Or just the bluntness? I talk to Henri for that-- it's very refreshing. [Henri Vorvolk may be as dry as any accountant, but he doesn't have a political bone in his body, at least not any bent toward maneuvering and ambition.]

[dendarii]

A little of both. It's relaxing, talking to Ivan. He's not fraught with anything.

Henri may be smarter though.

[ Poor Ivan, so horribly maligned. ]

[vorbarra]

Fraught with burdensome relations, maybe.

Oh, Henri is perfectly intelligent, it's just all very... focused. Things are simple to Henri. [Gregor sounds slightly envious, actually.] He couldn't fathom so much as giving me a poor piece of investment advice. Those sort of motives don't occur to him.

[Which makes him simultaneously a great relief to Gregor, to have someone his age in the Counts that he doesn't have to second guess their intentions, and also a remarkably poor confidante. He just doesn't understand a lot of the convoluted difficulties that come with being emperor.]

[dendarii]

Pure and innocent, eh?

[ Ivan does at least get the political side, that much is true. One can't be related to Alys Vorpatril and ignore it. And he needs some political acumen in order to avoid work after all. Mostly. There are a few exceptions Miles can think of ... ]

Well - you have me, now. And no politics. Internal or external.

[ Except for Miles quietly reassembling the Dendarii for the sole purpose of protecting Gregor. Details. ]

[vorbarra]

More like pure and oblivious. [It's the bland cajoling of someone who is actually friends with the person they're mocking.

Gregor lifts up his head enough to respond more directly to that last bit, looking at Miles and seeing him maybe a bit too clearly.] I do have you, don't I? And you're right, without politics. You'd think we'd have gone mad with freedom by now. Instead I've been serving coffee.

[Maybe he should be setting his sights a little higher.]

[dendarii]

[ He smiles a bit, sheepishly. ]

That's the beauty of freedom, isn't it? Being able to go out and serve coffee if you want to. Or take over a country. Or anything in between. You really can do anything you want, Gregor.