maskormenacelogs | [closed]

[It had taken another day or so of mulling it over after Simon's talk with Aral, but now that Simon had his Lord's blessing (an implicit order in and of itself) he was resolved to take action. Mark wanted to be ImpSec and honestly, Simon did think he had the chops for it. It was time to give him some slack and see how he ran on a real assignment.

Simon camps out in the kitchen, casual, drinking a cup of coffee and browsing the network waiting for Mark to wander in.]

[ Mark, as always, looks guarded as he comes in. He skirts around Illyan, giving him a glance out of the corner of his eye - the man is truly, truly uncanny, and Mark would frankly be scared of him even without their shared history here. Still, he's hungry, and even the presence of Simon Illyan isn't going to stop Mark from breaking into the artisinal cheddar cheese and organic apples that he'd bought the day before. ]

[Unsurprisingly, Simon had found his bird form quite useful for various surveillance activities and the simple act of getting around. Today he was scoping out a local park, making a sweep around the perimeter to eyeball the best place to perch and do some light intel gathering.]

[ There are other birds here, of course. There are even other birds of prey. But none of them are this incredibly annoying little kestrel, who has spent most of the morning harassing larger animals, swiping food, and hunting down grasshoppers. No points for guessing who that could be. Especially when he cocks his head and sees Simon sweeping around above him. Well. He has been rather bored lately. Picking a fight with a larger falcon seems like just the thing.

He flutters up close to Simon, getting in his face and generally disrupting his flight path. If birds could smirk, he would be doing that right now. ]

[Simon's in and out of the Lucky Cat on a frequent but fairly random basis, enough to gain a broad idea of who goes to the establishment. He recognizes Spock from the network posts he had flipped through and knew him as the current head of Dendarii's R&D. Once he has his own coffee (A cappuccino with a grumpy cat lovely drawn into the foam.) He approaches the man at his table.]

Commander Spock? Simon Illyan; I work with Lord Admiral Vorkosigan. May I join you?

[Thoughtfully polite as ever, Simon gives Mark an acknowledging nod when he walks in but lets him alone until he's gathered his food.

He sets his comm device down. Slowly, the movement and the noise it makes telegraphed.]

Lord Mark, if you have a moment I'd like to speak with you.

[ Spock isn't exactly a frequent visitor, but ever since Miles introduced him (on multiple ~~forced~~ occasions) to a certain tea blend that had similar qualities of a Vulcan tea, Spock did visit the cafe whenever he had business in Heropa. And ever since he resigned registration with the government, He hadn't been traveling outside of De Chima as frequent as he had before.

So when this shorter man came towards his table, the voice and face was new to him since they hadn't run into each other yet. The name, however, was familiar thanks to Miles' and Gregor's mentioning of the man. He looks up at the voice, setting his cup back down to be polite. ]

Greetings, Captain Illyan. You are welcome to join me if you wish.

[ Oh. They don't talk much, really, and so that request puts him on edge immediately. Still, he gives an acknowledging twitch of his chin and brings his cheese to the table. ]

I have a moment. What is it?

Thank you.

[He tips his head in thanks and lightly places his mug down.]

I take it you've heard of me from the Emperor or Miles?

[Simon gestures for him to sit, with just the slightest shift in his demeanor to make the motion more of an order than a request.]

I've decided to grant your request.

[ A moment - and then surprise comes over his face. Surprise, and a hard sort of eagerness. The look of a man suddenly presented with a test he didn't know coming, but that he knows the material for. A very Vorkosigan sort of look. ]

Regarding ImpSec? Why? What changed your mind?

[ He sits, eagerly, his physical hunger forgotten for the moment in the face of a very different sort of hunger. ]

[ He makes a subtle gesture to the other empty chair at his table, quietly inviting him to sit. ]

Affirmative. Both have spoken of you in high regard.

[He follows the gesture, and cocks an inquiring eyebrow at Spock.]

Is that so...?

[At least some of his bemusement was honest. His Emperor was a surprisingly difficult one to read; Simon never quite new what to do with him.]

Indeed, [ he replies vaguely. ] Though I presume you are also time-displaced much like Lord and Lady Vorkosigan?

Edited 2016-09-30 02:35 (UTC)

[Well, Simon can appreciate a man who can keep his own counsel. He could assume at least that Spock knew vaguely what he did on Barrayar, which certainly changed his strategy here.]

A couple of years further along than them, actually.

[Simon's expression stays utterly bland, but the similarity to Miles is, for a moment, a little disorienting.]

Practical considerations. If you're willing to work, then I don't have the leisure to argue.

[ He raises both eyebrows up just slightly. ]

Oh?

[Simon has been a bird enough these days that at least he manages a quick recovery, if not a graceful one. His main concern is getting a look at the offender: Miles, of course. But as far as Simon knew, Miles had no idea that he could transform as well; Simon had guarded that information rather carefully.

Which just mean Miles was picking fights with larger predators for recreational purposes. Cocky.

Gaining a notion, as soon as Simon's righted himself, he gets a line on the smaller bird and dives for him.]

[ In other words, quintessentially Milesian behavior. He shows no signs of recognizing Simon specifically, anyway. Though neither is he terribly scared of this larger predator bearing down on him. He twists in midair, throwing out his wings to dip to one side and stop abruptly. For normal, non-intelligent birds, this is usually enough to throw them off. This is the part where Miles would loop around and snag a tail feather just for kicks before fluttering off to harass someone else.

Too bad he isn't dealing with a dumb predator today. ]

[ He'd have liked it a lot better if it had been I've been watching you and I'm convinced of your intelligence and worthiness. That would have been a lot better than, what, it's you or no one. But - whatever. ]

Good to hear you've come to your senses. What do you want me to do?

[Flying above the streets of the city, Simon had not been looking for Rincewind, but he'd spotted the man—well, the luggage and then its master—down below decided he might as well check in. The wizzard had been his original tip off to investigate Baelish and that aside, someone as paranoid as Rincewind was usually a fairly reliable source of various information.

Simon lands a block away and shifts back to human, always a slightly disturbing sensation regardless of how many times he did it. A moment to gather himself, straighten his clothes, and he's already several steps out of the alley along the sidewalk as Rincewind rounds the bend. He manages to look perfectly surprised, down to the completely unnecessary double-take—as though he'd recognized him belatedly. Then a smile, more of a quick, shy grimace, and Simon nods to them both in greeting.] Rincewind. Luggage. Helo again.

Edited 2016-10-02 19:47 (UTC)

That's courting insubordination, Ensign Vorkosigan.

[Simon's tone is utterly dry and bland.]

As the lowest-ranking member of ImpSec currently: grunt work. I have a list of persons I want you to come back to me with a full profile on.

[ That cool rebuke catches him off-guard. He flushes slightly, startled and uncertain - and then he looks down at the table in acknowledgment of it. Right. Apparently Illyan doesn't tolerate much back-talk, then. Good to know.

Ensign Vorkosigan. That sounds so weird. Not...unpleasant, though. ]

Okay. What's the list?

- Oh.

[the wizard glances up from a list in his hand, blinking away surprise (and the instinctual flinch of an urge to flee) at seeing a known figure. A known friendly figure, thankfully, which means their interaction will last longer than the time it would take for Rincewind to turn and sprint down the sidewalk.

(Which would have looked particularly ridiculous today, with the gently floating blue balloon he has tied to his skinny wrist.)]

Gosh, hello. Um. ...Simon, right? From the bar?

[he's pleased with himself for remembering that much, considering he can't remember anything else about the man. Embarrassing, really. He folds the list in his hand and sticks it into a pocket just as the Luggage comes around from behind to greet their acquaintance as well. Mostly on the off chance the man has more fries or beer to offer it.]

Good to see you again. Out enjoying the day, are you?

[Simon is frankly impressed he remembers that much, given how many times he hypnotized him in that one sitting.

To the luggage Simon ruefully shakes his head before he turns toward his master/charge with an awkward shrug.]

It seemed nice enough to walk. Were you, er, running errands...?

[He's peering curiously at the balloon as he says so.]

[closed]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject