ivanyouidiot | 001

Entry tags:

001 | Voice

[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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Quit it. I know Miles' penchant for "accidentally" almost getting himself killed. I thought he was improving, though. It took him months instead of hours, last time.

This time we both almost got killed!

But it has been months.

What do you mean? Last I knew, he was headed off... [He makes a vague gesture with one hand, indicating "out there"] somewhere off-planet, and you were home.

No, I went with him. To Cetaganda. I think it would have been an even worse idea to send him somewhere that diplomatically sensitive all on his own.

[Although Ivan supposes it had been Miles who managed to avert a crisis, even if it might not have been a problem if they'd just reported the intruder when they'd first arrived.]

...Why were you going to Cetaganda?

[Definitely some sort of memory loss issues going on, and Ivan's pretty sure it's not on his side.]

As representatives of Barrayar at the funeral of the dowager Empress.

[Gregor is sure he would know if the dowager Empress died. But Gregor has never met anyone else here from the 30th century. This is...interesting. He places both feet on the floor and steeples his fingers, gazing at Ivan thoughtfully.]

How old are you?

[It's a less crazy question than "what year is it," after all.]

[It's about as crazy of a question, in Ivan's opinion, but he just shrugs.]

Twenty-two.

[A light turns on in Gregor's eyes. Ivan just became the most interesting thing in the universe. He spends a few seconds contemplating this.]

...I see.

What do you see? Or do I not want to know?

[That's never a good look, for anyone.]

[Ivan being from two years after Gregor can mean Gregor getting a few questions answered. For example, he already knows he's still alive and on the thr...standard-issue folding camp stool at that point, in spite of his admittedly outrageously irresponsible stunt before coming to Luceti. Time to break things to him slowly.]

...Has Buffy told you she's from the twenty-first century yet?

Th-wha?

Do they measure time differently where she comes from, then?

She's from Earth.

[He's going to enjoy watching Ivan react to this.]

[A slight widening of his eyes, and then Ivan shakes his head.]

But-- You have some of your details wrong.

No, she's from twenty-first century Earth. Trust me, I wasn't sure I believed her till now. Time means roughly as little as space, here.

That doesn't make any sense at all.

Don't tell me you're completely unfamiliar with time-travel science fiction.

Emphasis on the fiction part, right?

Don't ask me to explain how, but I know it's been a theory for a while with wormhole travel. I heard Countess Vorkosigan talk about it, and I'm sure you did, too. However it works, last time I was home, you'd just turned twenty. Two months ago.

Are you certain?

[Ivan will admit that that's a stupid question, even for him, but what else is he supposed to ask about?]

Does that mean we can assume that you make it back safely?

You tell me. The last thing I did before coming here was astonishingly stupid, so I haven't been certain.

I think, given the two, almost three, years involved, there's no way everyone who would know would agree to cover up your disappearance for that long.

[Ivan shrugs.]

As for astonishingly stupid... I'm fairly certain I'm not allowed to be a judge.

I ran away from home.

[ Alright, that's pretty stupid. ]

You mean...from Barrayar?

From the Imperium.

[A beat.]

I was a little drunk.

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