![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Trivial Negative - Meeting Taura: that had been a kiss (MD 325-327)
Regained - Game #69, Not-Dream, corruption heart games (Misato's)
Okay, this is a present scene, not a flashback, and thus a lot of information, but at least it's a short one.
In the immediately obvious department! He doesn't feel as young as he did in his starting memory, but he is just as painfully thin. So he's going to guess that this was earlier and then he suddenly gained a whole bunch of weight. Because that makes more sense than assuming he yo-yoed.
I'm dozing when I'm woken by some kind of comm system, telling me that the commando squad is here.
...commando squad?
I'm referring to himself as Naismith, but the voice over the comm calls me Miles.
...Miles? Wasn't that the other short guy with spinal deformities?
Apparently I'm supposed to inspect this commando squad, and I'm not looking forward to this. Getting into a gray and white military uniform (???), and looking up a map on the computer, because I has no idea where to find this commando squad I'm supposed to inspect. Taking a guess of which shuttle bay to go to, and standing there in the shadows for a moment watching this room full of big, burly, heavily armed space mercenaries in gray flight suits, talking loudly, horsing about a bit, doing big burly heavily-armed guy things. And then I step out.
No, really, what the fuck? What is going on, and why does it all feel so weird? I'm clearly not actually this military leader. I'm pretending to be one. But why?
And then one last commando squeezes into the bay, and it's...eight feet tall, built like a brick, with tawny yellow eyes and fangs. And pink nail polish and makeup. What, what, what? "Sergeant Taura and the Green Squad reporting as ordered, sir!"
And after I dismiss the rest of them to their duties, this giant wolfgirl comes up to me and is familiar. Very familiar. "Well, I'll be your bodyguard any time, lover. Just give me the sign."
And then...well... "That had been a kiss. Freaking gods." She looks puzzled and hurt that I practically fainted when I kissed her--probably not normal from whoever the real Miles Naismith is, I can only guess--so I bullshit something about being sick, at which point she fusses all over me and threatens to carry me to sickbay. Freaking gods.
And then she swats me on my ass on my way out. ALKDGHSDHFS.
And then I flee back to my cabin and try not to freak out. I thought I knew everything about Miles Naismith, this mercenary commander who I am impersonating (WHY? I'm a freaking businessman, why am I doing this?) And he's a suicidal freak screwing an eight-foot tall wolfgirl.
+ Taura, name, appearance, and kissing habits.
+ My name is not Miles. Thank you, demon voice, for not providing the real one.
+ Miles Naismith (but sometimes also Vorkosigan?) is the other short guy with spinal deformities in my second memory. I am currently his weight and impersonating him. For unknown reasons. And he's apparently a mercenary commander.
+5 likeliness to say things like 'freaking gods' in moments of stress.
+10 amazonian women are scary.
+50 WHAT THE FLYING FUCK MY LIFE.
Regained - Game #69, Not-Dream, corruption heart games (Misato's)
Okay, this is a present scene, not a flashback, and thus a lot of information, but at least it's a short one.
In the immediately obvious department! He doesn't feel as young as he did in his starting memory, but he is just as painfully thin. So he's going to guess that this was earlier and then he suddenly gained a whole bunch of weight. Because that makes more sense than assuming he yo-yoed.
I'm dozing when I'm woken by some kind of comm system, telling me that the commando squad is here.
...commando squad?
I'm referring to himself as Naismith, but the voice over the comm calls me Miles.
...Miles? Wasn't that the other short guy with spinal deformities?
Apparently I'm supposed to inspect this commando squad, and I'm not looking forward to this. Getting into a gray and white military uniform (???), and looking up a map on the computer, because I has no idea where to find this commando squad I'm supposed to inspect. Taking a guess of which shuttle bay to go to, and standing there in the shadows for a moment watching this room full of big, burly, heavily armed space mercenaries in gray flight suits, talking loudly, horsing about a bit, doing big burly heavily-armed guy things. And then I step out.
The effect was instantaneous. "Heads up!" someone shouted, and without further orders they arranged themselves at rigid attention in two neat, dead silent rows, each with his or her bundle of equipment at their feet. It was almost more frightening than the previous chaos.
No, really, what the fuck? What is going on, and why does it all feel so weird? I'm clearly not actually this military leader. I'm pretending to be one. But why?
And then one last commando squeezes into the bay, and it's...eight feet tall, built like a brick, with tawny yellow eyes and fangs. And pink nail polish and makeup. What, what, what? "Sergeant Taura and the Green Squad reporting as ordered, sir!"
And after I dismiss the rest of them to their duties, this giant wolfgirl comes up to me and is familiar. Very familiar. "Well, I'll be your bodyguard any time, lover. Just give me the sign."
And then...well... "That had been a kiss. Freaking gods." She looks puzzled and hurt that I practically fainted when I kissed her--probably not normal from whoever the real Miles Naismith is, I can only guess--so I bullshit something about being sick, at which point she fusses all over me and threatens to carry me to sickbay. Freaking gods.
And then she swats me on my ass on my way out. ALKDGHSDHFS.
And then I flee back to my cabin and try not to freak out. I thought I knew everything about Miles Naismith, this mercenary commander who I am impersonating (WHY? I'm a freaking businessman, why am I doing this?) And he's a suicidal freak screwing an eight-foot tall wolfgirl.
He undressed and lay tensely upon his bed, contemplating Naismith/Vorkosigan's complicated life and wondering what other booby-traps it held for him. At last a faint change in the susurrations and creaks of the ship around him, a brief tug of shifting grav fields, made him realize the Ariel was breaking free of Escobar orbit. He had actually succeeded in stealing a fully armed and equipped military fast cruiser, and no one even knew it. They were on their way to Jackson's Whole. To his destiny. His destiny, not Naismith's. His thoughts spiraled toward sleep at last.
But if you claim your destiny, his demon voice whispered at the last, before the night's oblivion, why can't you claim your name?
+ Taura, name, appearance, and kissing habits.
+ My name is not Miles. Thank you, demon voice, for not providing the real one.
+ Miles Naismith (but sometimes also Vorkosigan?) is the other short guy with spinal deformities in my second memory. I am currently his weight and impersonating him. For unknown reasons. And he's apparently a mercenary commander.
+5 likeliness to say things like 'freaking gods' in moments of stress.
+10 amazonian women are scary.
+50 WHAT THE FLYING FUCK MY LIFE.