[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]

[ Dammit, she has a point. And if she just disappeared, would her manipulator know she had failed? There's no way for him to fake his death for very long - shudders at the very thought, after the Jackson's Whole debacle - so whatever safety she has will be limited.

And yet where can she go that would be safe? Something that wouldn't tip them off, and yet might still deliver the follow-up into his waiting security ... He brightens as the solution comes to him. ]

How would you like to be arrested after all?

[rathercommon]

Honestly? I'd really like that very little.

[ But she says that mildly, all things considered. She keeps watching him. Because she suspects - ]

You have a plan?

[dendarii]

I do. Let your puppeteer think that their plan has succeeded on one level: that you walked into my parlor and I had you arrested for trespassing. I'll explain it all to Illyan and he'll set you up in a safehouse for the night - you'll be safe. And not actually arrested, in case that wasn't clear.

And then, when they send someone else to finish the job, security can pick them up. We get answers, risks are split, and you don't end up mysteriously dead somewhere.

[rathercommon]

[ And now it's Kitty's turn to go a little bit pale. ]

Illyan. As in - Simon Illyan?

[dendarii]

Naturally. Only one I trust to do this right.

[ Even with their recent .. issue, Illyan is like an uncle to him. And not one to ignore an obvious threat. ]

[rathercommon]

But he's...Imperial Security. Not - I mean - You're just a normal Count. Don't you have your own security?

[ She tends to consider herself quite courageous, but...The legends about Illyan - They're beyond terrifying. She can't imagine him just calmly renting out a room for her to stay the night. It seems more likely that the man will drain her blood and drink it. ]

[dendarii]

[ And here is where he has to decide exactly how much he trusts this woman. Not enough to spill confidential information, but there is certainly one key piece that will become public soon enough ... ]

I never did answer your question, you know. About why I was in a very different state of mind last week.

[rathercommon]

[ Maybe he's trying to distract her, maybe he's trying to soothe her, or maybe this is some sort of answer to her spooked disbelief. Regardless of Lord Vorkosigan's intent, it works. She fixes her eyes on him and gives a little nod. ]

You didn't, no. Are you intending to now?

[dendarii]

[ There's a point, he's just taking the the most direct route, Miles-style. ]

Just so. I was part of ImpSec. Courier. It's almost entirely confidential, but - I can say that it was half my life. No, more than half. I built it up so much that when it was over, I returned here to find barely anything of my identity still here .. .

[ He shakes his head, faintly. It's hard to talk about even in this context. ]

Medical discharge. No more active duty ever again. I was - distraught.

[ And so much more than that, but he can't get into any more. Not without major consequences. ]

[rathercommon]

[ Well, whatever she was expecting, that was not it. She watches him, face a mixture of surprise and curiosity and a hint of disbelief and a hint of sympathy. That last is hard-won, too: this is the softest she's looked this whole time. Still. Courier - she hasn't any idea what that means, but she suspects it's not exactly the person carrying the mail - and now a courier no longer. His purpose yanked away from him. Poor thing. ]

Was your discharge because of... [ She thinks better of making reference to his deformity. Instead: ] Why were you discharged?

[dendarii]

[ Even normal couriers don't necessarily just carry the mail. Miles is just ... more of a special case than most. The note of sympathy in her expression surprises him the most; it's ultimately what makes him turn his head away, unable to meet her gaze directly. ]

No, no. I've been like this all my life. [ Wearily: ] It's teratogenic, not mutagenic. [ And then, after another beat: ] I died.

[ An even more gross oversimplification, but it occurs to him that telling this woman about his seizures might not be the smartest move. Hold off, for now. Details later. ]

[rathercommon]

[ She's cut off from her protest that she has no idea what either of those words mean by those two words. I died. Her expression is caught, now, in pure puzzlement: she stares at him, then hesitantly ventures: ]

I don't...understand. You died? [ And then she realizes - ] Cryorevival?

[dendarii]

Just so.

[ He half-lids his eyes, trying not to remember - well, nothing. It had just been nothing, barely even the memory of the needle grenade going into his chest. ]

So please, try not to die. I can tell you from experience it is not pleasant.

[rathercommon]

[ She stares at him, a mixture of faint horror and fascination on her face. Cryorevival is something she knows of, faintly, but certainly not something that anyone of her acquaintance has the least experience with. When the poor die, they die, they don't have some...insane off-world technology swooping in to restore them to life. She looks at his thin face and thinks that it does have perhaps a bit of the skull in it - perhaps its leanness and its exhaustion giving it that appearance, or perhaps something else, something more unearthly...

Don't stare, Kitty. Fortunately, that last comment startles her out of her fascinated reverie - startles her enough to make her snort a little scornfully. ]

Oh, that's rich, considering the source. Dying's not pleasant, but I'm a touch suicidal. Don't mind that bit. Over losing your job? You'd have just accepted someone murdering you? Honestly, I'm of half a mind to come over there and slap you.

[dendarii]

[ All he can do is smile crookedly at that, all self-deprecating. The irony is not lost on him. ]

Do as I say and not as I do, eh?

[ The smile fades, leaving only exhaustion behind. ]

It was rather more than a job. More of a whole other life, suddenly lost. A dead man walking.

[rathercommon]

Complete crap.

[ She pronounces that firmly, then stops to reconsider. ]

Well, no, I suppose that's actually technically quite true. But the sentiment is crap. Your job was your life, okay. You lost it, all right. But you haven't passed into the grave. You've been reincarnated. You're still alive, still breathing, and still clever and brave enough, so stop looking so damnably tired and mopey.

[ And then Kitty - again, a bit caught up in her temper and her passion - remembers that she is talking to Lord Vorkosigan, not bossing around someone of her social status. She isn't going to bow and scrape and apologize for speaking to him frankly, to be sure - she'd be a bloody terrible rebel against the established power if she did, wouldn't she - but she does flush just a little bit in self-consciousness. Yelling at her liege lord. Sure. Does that constitute treason? Lese majeste, perhaps. Something new to be arrested for. ]

[dendarii]

[ He only looks quiet and thoughtful in response, considering the words seriously. As if she were a fellow Vor and not one of his subjects. If anything, the class divide makes him more inclined to take her seriously. No polite dithering here. ]

You have an alarming talent for being right, do you know that?

[rathercommon]

[ And that makes her color a little bit more, in surprise - and also a little bit in pleasure. That's a nice thing to hear. Especially from someone who she is, unhappy though she is about this fact, starting to be very impressed by. She tries to play it cool - which is so weird, so weird, given who she's speaking with. Playing it cool. With Lord Miles Vorkosigan. Sure. ]

I've always thought so. Most other people tend to think that I have an alarming talent for shoving my nose where it doesn't belong, so I like your assessment a bit better.

[ And then she pushes her hair behind her ear, and she says: ]

What's happened to you is clearly rotten. Incredibly rotten. Was it fair, though? The decision to discharge you.

[dendarii]

They overlap more often than not.

[ But the "not" side of the equation more than balances the "more"... He refrains from adding that part, given that his own examples would be bewildering without a whole heap of confidential information. Speaking of "not" - he winces at the woman's apparent willingness to come to his defense. Flattering, to be sure, but not necessary. ]

More than fair. Exceptionally fair. I could consider the discharge to be for compounded stupidity as much as it was for the medical condition.

[rathercommon]

[ She narrows her eyes slightly. ]

What do you mean?

[dendarii]

[ He hesitates. How much to say without giving up confidential information, and yet not letting himself off the hook? He leans against the table more heavily, staring down at the embroidered tablecloth. ]

At every step, I had the opportunity to turn back. And at every step, I persisted.

[rathercommon]

[ She shakes her head a little bit. ]

Turn back from what? From...being killed, or...?

[dendarii]

No. From lying about my condition.

[rathercommon]

Ah.

[ She sits back a bit, nodding in comprehension. The picture is pretty clear now - and very plausible, given what Kitty has learned so far about Lord Vorkosigan's character. ]

Right. Then - yeah. It does sound like you had that one coming.

[ A quick nod. ]

Then that's almost easier, in a way. If it was fair, that means there's no use in fighting against it. So the only thing you can do is move forward.

[dendarii]

Is that all. I had no idea. Truly, a simple thing to do.

[ Such exasperation in his voice. But despite the sarcasm, he can't refute her. Isn't it exactly what Harra had said? ]