person man, person man, hit on the head with a frying pan

[jacksonian]

WHO: Mark and whoever
WHERE: Everywhere!! But mostly De Chima and Maurtia Falls
WHEN: Throughout November
WHAT: Catch-all for November with stuff. Hit me up!! Please!!! Open prompts below; PM me if you want something that isn't these things.
WARNINGS: Mark's life sucks; I'll edit this header if any particular suckiness comes up.


1. dog dog dog dog dog dog dog; De Chima/Maurtia Falls
[ In De Chima or in Maurtia Falls, you might find a rather strange sight: a small stocky man walking an enormous stocky dog. This is Mark walking his dog Captain, a scarred and warlike pit bull that pulls at the leash and constantly wags his tail. Mark's expression is still a forbidding glower, but Captain's doggy face is open and bright-eyed and happy; there's no one he doesn't want to make friends with.

And Mark, unfortunately, doesn't know good leash technique, and also (in spite of his own roundness) doesn't outweigh his dog by that much. And so when Captain wants to make friends, Mark is dragged along behind him. And that is why, if you're walking around, you might be approached by a dog trailing a very sour-looking little man who's hissing - ]

No, don't - stop - heel -

2. come make $$$$; Maurtia Falls
[ PKE, LLC, up in Maurtia Falls, is beyond luxurious. The office is appointed with a sort of brushed-steel-and-pine classiness, like it's furnished from the expensive part of Ikea; the receptionist out front is attractive and aloof, and people who are waiting get offered mineral water from glass bottles.

There are any number of reasons that you might have ended up here: you might have received an advertisement in the mail, or a random notification on your phone, or you might have seen the advertising that targets imPorts. All of this advertising will have offered help in investing, getting rich, or opening a new business - generous funding to get everyone a little bit wealthier.

Mark, sitting at his desk, smiles a smile that can generously be described as oily when you're shown in. And he purrs - ]

Please, sit down. Tell me about how you'd like to make money.

3. kicking some grass; De Chima
[ Mark doesn't like to practice where he can be seen. Definitely not. So when he's worked up and anxious, he goes out far away from his family, far away from the people who know him, out into the forests of De Chima. On the unlikely off-chance that your character happens to wander by, they'll be treated to a very strange sight: a small fat man vigorously practicing a judo kata, face miserable, before punching a tree. He turns as soon as he hears them, though, eyes flashing with anger as he snarls - ]

What the hell are you doing here? Go away.

4. fuck it; anywhere
[ Mark's eating ice cream. Come have ice cream. ]

Comments

[jacksonian]

Oh. Yeah.

[ He allows a small smile to flit across his features - quick, slightly shy. ]

I think I'm a bit less intent on avoiding anyone giving me advice than he is.

[use_everything]

[There are moments when people look at the tools they have, that they've forged, sharpened or been given and decides either to be comfortable or to really use them.

There's a deep pride in watching that choice. (as much as there's relief in finding ONE of his sons is going to communicate, dammit)]

Give em hell, then.

[jacksonian]

[ And there's an answering happiness in Mark's face. It's not often that he knows - really knows - that he's making the right choice, but looking at Lord Vorkosigan now, there's no doubt of it. His eyes light up, and he looks on his father with a bright hunger, a hopeful sort of need, as he sees: yes. Yes, I did well, I did right... ]

Yes, sir.

[ He breathes that. Then, after a fine moment savoring with a gourmet's delight this exquisite and unexpected morsel, he sets it aside. Other matters. ]

Aside from the business, I also have ImpSec duties, of course.

[use_everything]

Ah. Yes, I haven't gotten to ask how you are finding those.

[jacksonian]

Well. I think I'm fairly good at them. [ Looking up for another longed-for look of approval: ] I helped Illyan out.

[use_everything]

[Aral had settled back into the attentive-neutral he usually does for reports.]

Instrumental, in that particular case. I don't have to tell you to be careful with that particular hive, I'm sure.

[jacksonian]

[ He shakes his head, then hesitates. ]

I don't think they're our enemies, though. Chilton and all of them.

[use_everything]

Hm. Your reasoning?

[jacksonian]

[ Mark hesitates. Gut instinct probably won't suffice. Nor, Chilton was nice when I was talking about the clone business, and that won me over. Something real, something actual... ]

Because...I think they're too tied up in all of their own issues. Internal politics don't make for a very formidable foe.

[use_everything]

Don't underestimate that. You've inherited aa culture that will put aside the most bitter feud to dismantle an outsider. [Then go right back to trying to murder each other before the victory cup was drained.]

[jacksonian]

[ ...True. Barrayarans. ]

But they're not particularly united amongst themselves.

[use_everything]

Perhaps not, but I can't really put aside the possibility yet. [As he is Barrayaran as well.] But I'm also not keen on a conflict we don't need to have, either.

Have you dealt with then long enough to furnish details?

[jacksonian]

[ A short nod. ]

I see Chilton. He's my therapist. [ And isn't it a sign that Cordelia got to Mark before any of the Barrayarans did, that he doesn't even blush or flinch admitting that. ] It's allowed me to get some intel on him.

[use_everything]

[And... Aral is so terribly Barrayaran and still so young that his first thought isn't that it was actually therapy, that it was an intel operation instead.]

Ah, that does lend it weight.

[jacksonian]

Yes, sir.

[ He nods slightly. But then, firmly - with anxiety churning in his belly, because his loyalties have been questionable before - ]

But if it does come down to it...My loyalties are with the family.

[use_everything]

I've no doubt. [That's quick enough to be honest. Aral's hand waves the concern aside.]

If it comes to a choice, then something has failed already. I'd rather prevent that.

[jacksonian]

[ Exactly the response Mark was hoping for. On both counts, frankly...He gives a small nod. ]

Yes, sir.

[ Then, a little awkwardly: ]

How...have you been doing?

[use_everything]

[This forded out into the hardest, most uncharted waters: small talk. Aral never knew exactly what to here. The awkwardness is met with more.]

Ah... fine. [Was that enough? It didn't seem like enough. Fumbling for a nicety, he accidentally just answers with a truth instead.] I've been looking for something to fill the days with. It's odd.

[jacksonian]

[ That truth makes Mark give a little huffing laugh of acknowledgment and surprise. Indeed, it draws a little bit of frankness out of him: ]

That must be new. Have you ever had to deal with too much time before?

[use_everything]

Once or twice. I mismanaged it something awful every time.

[jacksonian]

Really?

[ Huh. From Galen's stories about the man, Aral's life had been a long string of monstrosities with hardly a time for a nap. It had been one of the things that had always felt wrong to Mark, when he thought critically - no one had the energy for that much atrocity. And from Mark's perception since then - Well. Aral Vorkosigan knows who he is. Mismanagement doesn't seem to be his style. ]

What happened?

[use_everything]

The same thing that happens to mankind in general. I made a mess of my personal life and the professional one followed.

I have been, on occasion, a bloody idiot.

[jacksonian]

Hah. It's a little hard to...imagine, now.

[use_everything]

I'll take that for a compliment.

Hm. I wonder what I'd think if someone told me that at your age. I'd laugh, probably. You'll probably get here, too.

[jacksonian]

I, uh...

[ What...will Mark be when he's in his forties? Beyond? The question strikes him with a sudden strangeness. He'd never considered what it would be like to live a long life. Dead before he's twenty, dismembered in a civil war, or killed completing his mission, or maybe killed when Galen decided he wasn't needed after all...But he's away from all that now. What would it be like, being Aral's age? ]

That seems - impossible. I mean - I could see Miles getting there, maybe. [ A beat - ] Don't tell him I said that.