001 | Voice

[ivanyouidiot]

[As far as interesting occurrences go, waking up with no memory of how he got there has never, in Ivan's experience, been a good thing. He's a bit past that point -- and past spending lots of energy freaking out over the fact that there's something growing out of his back as well -- by the time he figures out to look inside the notebook he sees. Reading what he finds gives him some notion of just how deep of a hole he seems to have fallen in, but at least everyone seems to be in the same position. And this Malnasso isn't a group he's heard of before. If keeping his head down is what he needs to do, then that's what he'll do.

Of course, keeping his head down doesn't always mean literally keeping his head down. Ivan knows that there can be just as much advantage to going, "Hey, look at me, I'm not a threat at all," as there can be to going entirely unnoticed. And he happens to think he's made the former into an art. And as far as these things go, he might as well meet the other abductees.]

Well, this is...

Hello everyone. I'm Ivan. [Cue a smile, it might not be be able to seen but he's pretty sure that it'll come through in his voice.]

I'm going to think that won't mean much to you yet, since none of you seem particularly familiar to me, but from what it sounds like we might have time to get to know each other. A few facts about me: I like parties, not getting shot at, and sleeping in late. And not having my body modified without my permission, [it's a little harder to make himself sound cheerful there, but he does his best,] but given the circumstances I'll settle for three out of four.

Your turn.

Comments

[herotypical]

[ and so the petite blonde sits on the edge of the fountain, a blue and white package at her side and undisguised curiousity on her face.

she's looking for someone she won't recognize; she's looking for someone she'll identify purely through his unfamiliarity. ]

[ivanyouidiot]

[ He slows as he approaches the fountain, but he heads towards Buffy sitting there without stopping until he's within conversational rang. ]

You wouldn't happen to be Buffy, would you?

[herotypical]

[ she offers a friendly, sloppy salute. ]

I would. I would happen to be her. Buffy. Me.

[ she stands and holds out a hand. ] Welcome to the village, Ivan.

[ivanyouidiot]

[ He wrinkles his nose a little at the salute -- while he's an officer of Barrayar's military, he's not currently in uniform, and Barrayar doesn't let women serve. Besides, she doesn't seem like she knows how to salute. Still, he recovers and picks up her hand to press his lips against it. ]

And such a pleasant welcome it is.

[herotypical]

[ the salute had only been a cheeky greeting -- she has no sweet clue that she's speaking with a military man of any cut. ]

Please hold your applause until after we eat.

[ivanyouidiot]

[ Ivan's used to everyone he interacts with being military. Even the Emperor had served, although in very controlled circumstance. ]

I can't imagine that the cookies are better than you.

[herotypical]

That just proves it. You really haven't had these before. Trust me, You'll be over meeting me in a flat second once you try these bad boys.

C'mon. Sit down.

[ she says it almost as though casual command comes easy to her. ]

[ivanyouidiot]

Perhaps I just rate our introduction more highly than you do.

[Ivan's very good at the following orders part of being in the military, and he settles at the fountain, near to her.]

[herotypical]

[ she tears open the package. ]

I suppose I meet a dozen or so newbies every two months. You? You just showed up in an alterna-dimension. I'm sure it stands out as a little more hinky. For you.

[ivanyouidiot]

[ A careful shrug. ]

Am I no more notable than the others who have arrived?

[ Ivan sighs dramatically. ]

I do hope my visit here shall improve, in that case.

[herotypical]

You'll need to tell me a little bit more than likes to sleep in late to gain an adjective like 'notable, Ivan.

[ and with that, she produces one oreo cookie with a flourish. ]

[ivanyouidiot]

Such high standards.

[ He sighs dramatically as he takes the cookie, still mostly looking at her. ]

Ooh, I know. I'm Barrayaran.

[ That's usually a curiosity of sorts to people. Well, it makes some of them look at him negatively, but if that's going to happen then better to cut his losses here. ]

[herotypical]

Wait. Barrayaran?

[ she stumbles a little over the word but it's clear that she's somewhat familiar; at the very least, it's a word she's stumbled over before. ]

Huh.

[ivanyouidiot]

Huh? Is that a good huh or a bad one?

I promise, we're not quite the backwater of civilization that you may have been told.

[herotypical]

Oh, I haven't heard too much. And certainly no accusations of backwaterness.

[ivanyouidiot]

Then I'm really not sure who you've been speaking to, but I suppose I should be grateful to them.

[herotypical]

[ gregor was more coy than forthcoming with any and all information about his world, but... ]

I suspect my anonymous source will contact you eventually. That is, if you're actually from the same place and if he actually wants to talk to you.

[ivanyouidiot]

Who wouldn't want to talk to me?

[ He's curious about the anonymous source thing, and why that's necessary instead of hearing about it as usual through the course of things, but he has a feeling he wouldn't like the answer to that sort of question. ]

So, these cookies...?

[herotypical]

Mmhm. Cookies. Here. Try twisting yours, like...

[ and she plucks up an oreo of her own, twisting the top half off of the bottom and leaving one side empty and the other filled with cookie cream. ] That.

[ivanyouidiot]

[ That's a direction that he can follow, and does. ]

And which part do I eat?

[herotypical]

All of it!

But I suggest starting with the cream.

[ivanyouidiot]

[ The cream. Right. He can do that, he thinks, first attempting to lick it off and when that doesn't work so well he scraped his teeth against the cookie, then swallows. Oh. That's actually quite good, it turns out. He makes an approving little murmur. ]

[herotypical]

[ buffy, meanwhile, leaves the naked half of the cookie balancing in her lap while she snaps the cream half with ginger fingers. she doesn't lick but instead crunches -- smiling between bites.

after: ] As an ambassador of my time, this is pretty much the best I have to offer.

[ivanyouidiot]

They are pretty good.

[ Although he'd still argue that her company is more, but he doesn't want to be too pushy. ]

[herotypical]

They're even better dunked in apple juice. I promise.