[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]

Then where is she? How do we find her? Obviously calling her isn't a good idea.

[mythtakes]

Probably in the city somewhere.

... probably underground. [He says that like it's the last place he really wants to be.]

Usually there's some really vague not always rhyming prophecy thing that gives you a vague direction to run in. Unless it's Mars. That's the only thing Ares ever does right- clear directions.

[dendarii]

[ Miles frowns, thinking about it. ]

There is an extensive sewer system under Vorbarr Sultana. And the palace itself has a number of secret passages. Mostly sealed off for Gregor's safety.

[mythtakes]

That... sounds like a really good place to start.

[dendarii]

Come on, then. I'll get Martin out here with the lightflyer.

[ He frowns down at his commlink. A bit waterlogged ... but not so much he can't switch it on and make the call. ]

[mythtakes]

... By that do you mean airplane?

[dendarii]

Oh, no. More like a flying motorcycle. Partially enclosed, fits four.

[mythtakes]

... how low to the ground can it fly?

[dendarii]

... Are you afraid of heights, Percy?

[mythtakes]

I'm afraid of highly directed bolts of lightning.

[dendarii]

[ Miles looks up at the cloudless sky. ]

Er ... we'll need to clear the treetops, at least. I can ask Martin to stay low though.

[mythtakes]

...

What if I just walk?

[Not that he's even sat up yet.]

[dendarii]

Then I'll see you in a couple days. We're well out of the city here.

[mythtakes]

[Ugh. UUUUGHHH air travel.

He lets his hands come up out of the water and then just drops them back in. It's a clear, disgruntled sign of surrender.]

[dendarii]

Why do think we're going to get struck by lightning?

[mythtakes]

Because Zeus is terrible at all promises that don't involve nasty, terrible bad ends for demigods. Seriously, it's like he has a second brain for "would this this be really annoying to fixate on? Yep. Keeping it."

[Somewhere, despite the very clear, cloudless sky, there's a peal of thunder.]

[dendarii]

[ That. Makes the point very clearly. ]

... Ah. I see.

Perhaps we can call the armored car instead.

[mythtakes]

I'm SO down with that.

[dendarii]

Right. Martin, change of plans ...

[ Meanwhile, Miles starts hiking towards the nearest road. ]

[mythtakes]

[Percy takes a deep breath, braces himself and hauls his sorry butt out of the water. The exhaustion hits the moment he steps entirely onto dry land, but thanks to the downtime, it's certainly not as bad as it could be. He gives a careful look around, because if he's been taught anything about remote places, it's that they just seem to be crawling with the worst of the worst...

And hoofs it to catch up with Miles.]

[dendarii]

[ Good plan, that. The nearest road isn't far, at least, and by the time they get up there the armored car is waiting for them. Hovering, but only a few feet off the ground.

As soon as Miles goes to open the door, though, he stiffens with alarm. ]

-- I lost your sword.

[mythtakes]

[He's staring at the hovering car. It is a part exhaustion, but it's amazing to him that it got here so fast, but also REAL HOVERING CAR. It honestly wasn't REAL to him until he could touch it.

He throws a grin back to Miles. He really can't help it.

Percy takes the pen out of his pocket and twirls it lightly between two fingers, echoing that obtuse statement when Miles had first caught him.]

It does that.

[mythtakes]

Still... I think we need to get you a better suited sword. You were moving it like a tree branch.

[dendarii]

[ Miles' turn to stare back at that weapon. Well ... that's a relief, at least . He should have known it would be a magic sword. With a faint huff, he settles himself in the back of the vehicle. ]

It's rather heavy. I'm used to --

[ Shit. Where's his dagger? He fumbles for his dagger - and sighs a breath of relief when he finds it still strapped to his belt. Carefully, he unsheathes it to make sure it's undamaged.

That alloy might just look familiar. A beveled pattern in the metal, intermixed with a familiar sheen of bronze. ]

[mythtakes]

[At first, he just GRINS. Of course he prefers a dagger. But then he catches the metalworking...]

That..

Can I see that?