etcelsior | HE TOLD ME SEVERAL TIMES THAT HE DIDN'T LIKE MY KIND

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HE TOLD ME SEVERAL TIMES THAT HE DIDN'T LIKE MY KIND

TEST DRIVE MEME

Considering apping into MASK OR MENACE? Want to dip your toes into the setting and get a feel of whether your character will fit into it? Or maybe you're just cruising and want to play around? Then you've come to the right place!

Pick any of the following scenarios below or feel free to make up your own, but don't be afraid to throw yourself at someone else's thread, either!

And remember to have fun!

01. The city of Heropa is what one might expect from a small, bright and cheery place, where locals are friendly enough and local shop owners might offer a free drink to welcome you to their fair city. Some of the locals might thank you for always lending your service to the nation and others might not say anything. In fact, some people might back away from any imPort who quite obviously looks like they aren't from around the neighborhood. Once in a while there's a look of disdain on someone's face and hushed voices.

An upset, deeply masculine voice wonders aloud: "More of them, when we already know they can't protect us? That's just painting a bigger target on the city's back!"

"That's just what Ronald Chump says!" Exclaims a young woman. She raises her fist in anger at the imPort-hating individual. "We're not going to tolerate bigots here!"

02. De Chima, Virginia, is a large city with a healthy economy, and though it's quieter, there are just as many citizens awed at your presence. Science and technology are the lifeblood of this city, so you're likely to come across a good many locals taking your picture with the newest of devices. Be forewarned: since FanPort happened, imPort fandom is at a new height. Don't be surprised if people start following you just to see if you'll do anything TMZ-worthy.

The trick is to stay calm, and don't wig out if someone asks what you think about imPort shipping.

03. Maurtia Falls, Pennsylvania, is having a rainy day. The streets seem to be running with water, the sky can't seem to stop crying. You might want to check out some consumerism-inclined shelter, be that a smoky and dart-eyed bar full of grumbling locals, or a grimy and industrial coffee shop (full of grumbling locals). Watch your step, newly minted imPort, because if you let on that you're fresh meat then you're likely to attract a posse of two or three sharp knuckled no-good-dooers. This is the criminally exciting part of town, so beware.

04. Nonah, North Carolina, is the liveliest of all cities; loud, busy and there's some kind of energy in the air that gets everyone buzzing with excitement. There's a baseball game going on in one of the parks amidst all those tall buildings, and you're welcome to watch! It's not an official game in the season, it's more like a friendly skirmish between local baseball teams. Midway through the game, the umpire might take note of you new imPorts -- assuming you're standing out in the crowd. He'll welcome you to throw a pitch if you'd like! Of course, the opposing team isn't too keen on the idea. Better look for more imPorts to play ball!

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[As far as irony is concerned, Miles doesn't even know the half of it. Kareen doesn't either, not yet, having left her informational documents in her frenzy to return home and claim her son again. The only truths she knew for certain was that her son was alive, she was on Earth, and now she is on fire.

Was on fire. Even now her shock seems to sap the power of her flames, dampening them lower and lower until they're all but extinguished. She might have thought it a hallucination if not for the burn that marred the young man's hand.

She'd lost control, but not again. Taking a deep breath she stepped back, unable to fight her renewed mistrust.] I know the Vorkosigans. They are not a large house and they are in hiding. How dare you take that name for yourself!

[Perhaps that was harsh, but her emotions were still raw.]

[ Shit, that's right. The time gap is messing things up for him again. Miles just counts himself lucky that it didn't result in him immediately getting stabbed this time - or burned. He swallows and straightens himself up to his full height. On this, he will not back down. ]

They are in my time, your royal highness. I am Aral Vorkosigan's and Cordelia Naismith's son. Miles Naismith Vorkosigan.

[ He wishes he knew more about exactly when she's from ... The shoe tells him nothing, alas, and he fact that Miles himself hasn't been born yet is a given. He hesitates again. ]

Your son Is here, and safe. He's also twenty-five.

Miles... [The name was right, certainly, but time divergence? Really? She'd been, what, asleep for the past few decades?

Kareen steps back once, twice.]

You're mad. That can't... I can't... Gregor is five years old!

He is when you come from, yes. But this place does strange things to time.

... Please, let me take you to him. He can prove it better than I can.

[ He's already sending a warning ahead to Gregor, trying to give him enough time to prepare for her arrival. ]

Why should I trust you? [Her demanding tone is quick to judge, but as soon as the words leave her mouth she knows her fears are baseless. Looking him in the eyes now, now that she knows, she can see it. His mother in him, his father...

What other options did she have? Who else could she turn to? And perhaps worse yet, what did it matter what happened to her if this man was lying? Certainly nothing could be more hideous that what she had already done to herself since Gregor's flight from the Imperial Residence.

Her lips pursed in a line and she straightened her back, trying to gather as much poise as she could while remaining clad only in a robe.] Very well, then. I have little choice but trust you do know where he is, so I will follow.

[ Right. Clothing too ... He wonders if he could discreetly filch something out of his mother's closet for her before she and Gregor meet. He makes a mental note of it and moves on. Important to get her home, first ... ]

... I'm sorry. But - I assure you, I am telling the truth. And I am truly Cordelia and Aral's son. The soltoxin antidote is why I'm as misshapen as I am now.

[ He begins to walk slowly, turning a bit to make sure she's following. ]

[Kareen was quiet at first, allowing him to talk, to apologize, do whatever he needed to make things less awkward. She, on the other hand, could handle such situations without allowing anything to visibly ruffle her though perhaps her front had become moot after her frenzied search for the embassy moments before. Where was the cool, calm Princess then?

When she did speak again it was in a soft tone, contemplative.] ... I was aware there were possible complications. And... I can understand a mother's desire to want to keep her son safe and living, no matter the circumstances.

[Society in Barrayar was cruel sometimes. Kareen knew if Gregor had shown any complications before or after his birth there would have been no saving him, no matter what Kareen's own wishes would have been. She would have just been expected to have another child to make up for the 'mistake.' Just imagining it now made her shiver.]

[ The fact that she isn't calling him "mutant" outright or isn't otherwise perturbed is enough for him, whatever else may be going on in her head now. All else is secondary. ]

It has been a hard battle for all involved. You can discuss it with her if you like - she's here as well. Probably with Gregor now, in fact.

[ Actually he's fairly certain they aren't right now, but it's unlikely his mother is far. He can just as easily summon her if need be. ]

[It would be unbecoming to call him such, assuming he was truly the son of Lord and Lady Vorkosigan. Again, Kareen wasn't sure if she believed it even if she felt instinctually it was true, but anyone tied to Cordelia, the woman she owed so much to... so much.]

Lady Vorkosigan... I would like to see her again, yes, but Gregor is my priority. [Her grip on the shoe in her hands tightened.] She would understand.

[ A small jolt at that - right, his parents still are Lord and Lady to her. Best not to make any correction right now. ]

Of course. And if you don't believe me, I assure you she can tell you the same information. And sympathize, for that matter.

[ He sends another quiet warning to Gregor as they approach the door to the house, telling him they've nearly arrived. ]

[Now they were at a house; small compared to the Imperial Residence surely, just a normal house. So far nothing seemed untoward. Still, Kareen held onto the skepticism still warring with her instinct.

She had no defense should something untoward happen to her here. Indeed, whatever happened with that fire before didn't even cross her mind as a sort of defense. She let herself be led, completely vulnerable, into the house. In her hands she clutched Gregor's tiny shoe, her white-knuckled grip the only show of tension in her otherwise perfect mask.]

... Here, Princess. Let me get the door for you.

[ He goes first, as a gesture of good faith. Nothing lurking behind it that will harm him, so nothing lurking behind it that would harm her. Only once he's fully in does he stand aside so that she can enter as well. ].

[ The door opening finds Gregor standing there in the living room, spine straight, expression perfectly composed, in gray button-up and black slacks. Which is fortunate, because what clothes he's wearing is the last thing on his mind-- everything has been wiped away but a blank sort of incomprehension at what's about to happen. It's a good thing Miles had warned him so he can at least try to brace himself, but... it doesn't seem to make a difference.

A thousand thoughts are whirling through his head (Can he get away with just hugging her immediately, no matter his age or the circumstances? Will he disappoint her somehow? How will he deal with having a mother again when he never remembers it in the first place, past a hazy abiding love? Is she going to want a link with him? and most perniciously of all, Will he remind her of his father somehow?) but all he says is a soft, utterly fragile, ] Mother.

[ His tone gives him away completely where his face is smooth. ]

[Kareen steps over the threshold after Miles, taking the invitation inside with grace. It's only a second later, when her eyes fall on Gregor that her world comes to a complete stop. His clothes don't bother her, and her robe and nothing else is also forgotten in this moment.

Her first reaction is to shut down while her mind whirls, her own expression blanking much like the man's before her. Cold shoots through her for one terrifying second. Serg. But no, this man is different, just quite similar to her late husband. It's his voice that truly sets the two apart, and that word she longed to hear...

Shaking, she takes a step forward and the little shoe, once held like the most precious talisman falls to the floor from nerveless fingers. She tries to speak but a muted sound is all that she can muster as she continued to approach.

This young man isn't what she remembered but she had been told he would be older. She just hasn't been able to conceive the idea that her tiny son could be an adult. And yet here he was. Even with things so strange she knew it was true. This was her son. Her Gregor.

She was close enough to touch him now, and she reached out a trembling hand, her fingertips finding his cheek with a gentle caress. That physical connection broke the mask she wore and her eyes flooded with tears, her throat constricted. But this time she managed to speak, if hoarsely.] Gregor... You've grown up.

[ Nothing's on fire yet. Good. Miles finds himself unwilling to leave the room - and Gregor - while this is going on, so he decides to forget grabbing a spare set of Cordelia's clothes for now. Instead, he moves to stand at Gregor's side. Close but not touching, just far enough back to give them both space ... while simultaneously providing backup, physically and mentally. He keeps his side of the link open but not intrusive. A warm lantern at Gregor's side.

As such, he says nothing for now. Just watches the two of them quietly. ]

[ For this first moment, Gregor barely notices Miles except as an abstract awareness of his existence by his side. But it seems to fit reality, slot neatly into his understanding of the world (Miles is with him) and his-- mother-- his mother doesn't at all. She may as well be a dream.

He has no idea what it is she drops to the floor; his eyes are as riveted on her face as hers are on his. Gregor has seen pictures of her, but in pictures Kareen Vorbarra is always serene, the epitome of a future Empress. He knows they no more tell the story of who she is or how she is in life than his own official portraits do. Seeing her now is an opportunity he'd never thought he'd have. Even knowing that Miles's parents are from just past her death... Somehow, Gregor had never imagined his mother showing up. His father-- in a nightmare, maybe.

But his mother has always been a dream to him, of warmth and safety, an so less real. The dream is standing in front of him.

His earlier inner question about whether he can just hug her immediately absolves into action without him quite processing it: Gregor folds forward and tucks her against him, for once less so they can hide their emotional reactions and more just to cling to her. It's disorienting at first since he's taller than her, but some far-flung part of his brain recalls how it feels to be hugged by his mother and it flares to life, as breakable and precious as spun glass. ]

I survived everything, [ he finds himself saying, knowing what she's really getting at about his age. His voice is hoarse. ] The Vorkosigans saw me safe through everything, I swear. I'm Emperor now.

[Miles doesn't even register; he may as well be a coat rack as far as Kareen is concerned. As impossible as it seems she has reached her son, but found he's already aged past the days he would need her protection and guidance. But knowing he's safe, healthy, alive... that was most important to her.

She slips into his embrace without hesitation, and in that moment she returns to being his mother, hands gentle as they caress down his back. Soothing and safe.

She whispers back to him, unable to reach a normal tone just yet.] Your grandfather was right to rely on Lord and Lady Vorkosigan. I knew whomever he chose I would trust, but Cordelia and Lord Vorkosigan... After knowing they kept you safe, I could not have found them wanting in any regard concerning you.

[She's quiet a moment, then pulls back slightly, just slightly, to search his face again with glistening eyes.]

... I missed it, didn't I? I... [died.]

[ Oh, God. Why does Gregor need to be the one to tell her this? He's not sure he's ever fully faced up to the reality of her death himself, the magnitude of that loss to him. His grandfather had been an abstract loss, one he'd never really known; his father a loss of opportunity at first, when he'd still thought him a war hero, and then a darker, keener loss of something that had never been accessible to him in the first place.

But his mother... was something Gregor had once had.

He swallows hard, something in his face cracking. ] Mother, I... I don't want to answer that. [ Coward. He's such a coward. But he can't, not without shutting down. He still has a vague memory of the time surrounding her funeral, a blur of grayness that extended for days, weeks, no one realizing how little he was talking... ]

Edited 2016-04-26 16:20 (UTC)

[Oh no. She hadn't meant to cause him pain but there was little excuse. She was fresh from the moment, still somewhat in shock over what happened and without any time after to parse how she felt on the matter. Gregor, on the other hand, had years, two decades to feel the weight of that loss and the proof was in front of her now.

His tone is enough to clue her in that she misspoke, but the way his expression changed, even ever so slightly, it was enough. She reached up and cupped his face in her hands.]

Forgive me, my son. We don't have to talk about it or anything else. [And maybe after this moment he wouldn't want to see her again, either. That would break her heart, but just knowing he had gotten to live his life and grow to adulthood, that he hadn't died at such a tender age, frightened and alone, that would be enough for her.]

[ So immediately understanding. Gregor hadn't remembered this part of her. Hell, what does he remember? He's managed to mostly put away his longing to know his parents (learning about Serg had been like having that desire shot in the gut, an excruciating and slow death) but now he's suddenly greedy to know everything, to learn what he can about her before she disappears again.

Gregor doesn't hug her again, but his hands find her arms just above the elbow, and clasps there tightly, earnestly, as he gazes down at her. For the first time he takes her in in detail, rather than being overwhelmed by the magnitude of her presence. ]

... What are you wearing? You must have just arrived. I'm-- I'm sure Cordelia won't mind lending you something. You're safe here, completely safe.

[ Well, not completely, but not in any immediate danger. Complications can come later. Gregor is belatedly aware that he's fumbling this, possibly embarrassing himself, but he's caught so flat-footed he can't quite recover, a boat rocking in rough water.

He remembers Miles is there and glances over at him, says quietly, ] Miles, would you mind... [ Retrieving something. Clothes. ]

[ Miles immediately snaps to attention. He'd been in kind of a haze the whole time, watching the reunion and feeling Gregor's emotions over the link. Beyond quiet himself in return, not wanting to intrude ... Now there's a faint spark of relief. He'll stand here as long as Gregor wants - and will return promptly, that's for sure - but he's grateful to be able to do something. ]

Right. I'll be back in a few minutes.

[ With that, he darts upstairs to Cordelia's room. ]

[Kareen looks down at her robe and a sick feeling swirls through her stomach. Ah. Right. Her son really shouldn't see her like this, but there was no helping it now. She just nods, grateful that Cordelia seems to live in the same spaces as the boys. That's lucky for sure.

As Miles runs off Kareen tears her eyes away from Gergor long enough to watch his small form retreat. Her voice is soft and there is sympathy in her eyes.] So... He really is Lord and Lady Vorkosigan's son. [It's a statement. She can't deny the truth her own heart knows. But it is a shame his treatments were not fully effective. All she can think is how his parents must have been so upset when they learned he wouldn't be normal.]

[ Gregor couldn't care less how she looks or what she's wearing as long as he gets to see her, but he feels on her behalf, can guess that she's no less habituated to always appearing composed and put together in public no matter what crisis she's enduring, same as him.

He can also guess what lies behind this statement, but is just glad she seems sympathetic and not scornful. Gregor doesn't know what he'd do if he learned his mother bought into that particular nasty habit of Barrayaran mothers. He's learned enough shockingly awful things about his parents to last his whole life. ]

He is, [ Gregor confirms, still framing her with his arms. ] And he is completely loyal to me. All of the Barrayarans here are. [ Coming from the time of Vordarian's Pretendership makes him think she wouldn't take that as a given at all, but then, Gregor really doesn't know what sort of relationship his mother had had with Miles's parents at that time... He's never asked. It seemed it would invite too much cutting at his own flesh to hear of it, when he could only know secondhand. ]

[Kareen wouldn't say she's immune to their world's prejudices, but she can't find it in her to judge the Vorkosigans' son too harshly. He brought her to Gregor after all. She wasn't yet sure what she made of Miles on a personal level.

Hearing her son was surrounded by trustworthy folk filled her with such relief she physically sagged against him, her forehead pressed to Gregor's shoulder. A light, breathy laugh escaped her.] Nothing could make me happier than to hear you hold strong loyal bonds.

[Loyalty was worth more than gold. It was safety and life and peace. Any Vorbarra would know the truth of that.

She tilted her head up after giving herself a moment to collect her thoughts.] ... How many Barrayarans are here?

[ So he hadn't been misplaced to think that that would be valuable news to her. Everything about him softens at her evident relief, and he finds himself immensely reluctant, almost incapable, of moving away. ]

There's Miles, his parents, our cousin Ivan Vorpatril, [ with a jolt he realizes the our here includes his mother, and has to force himself on with anything resembling smoothness, ] and Duv Galeni, an ImpSec captain. The Vorkosigans have taken another imPort as Armswoman as well, under the circumstances.

[ Gregor finds himself taking refuge in these factual accountings. The emotional side of this is one he isn't ready to face-- but will he ever be ready to face it, truly? Perhaps he'll just have to be confronted with it, with the inevitability of the tide... But for now it's sensible that she needs to be informed of the practicalities. All of this must be enough of a rush for her without adding emotional reaction on top of it.

Gregor is already realizing that his mother might be like him in that respect, saving feeling for later, in absolute safety and privacy. It's... comforting, somehow, to have that familiarity. Usually he is alone in that. ]

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