[open] But I've found work and welcome everywhere I've been

[unclassifiable]

WHO: Simon Illyan and anyone else
WHERE: many places. Vorkosigan residence, THE MALL, a bar (any bar), a back alley in Maurtia Falls, Lucky Cat Cafe
WHEN: December
WHAT: Christmas shopping, an unsuccessful mugging, pretend drinking, spying, coffee, erotic literature
WARNINGS: Simon may or may not hypnotize people for convenience's sake.

Vorkosigan Residence

[At the Vorkosigan residence, Simon has been missing a couple days, which isn't all that odd. Sometime around lunch, he finally reappears, coming through the front door with a duffle-bag slung over him shoulder.]


The Mall

[Someone has sabotaged the Christmas music :( There's an apology over the general speakers and a promise that repairs are underway. Simon, who had absolutely nothing to do with this sabotage at all, is standing at his security guard post on his segway texting as bored employees are wont to do. A good person to ask directions for new imports overwhelmed by capitalism. Also potentially a good source of protection for any ImPorts being mobbed by excited Christmas shoppers.]


Maurtia Falls
[It was bound to happen at some point. Simon cuts a very unintimidating figure, and Maurtia Falls is known for its crime. A figure stalks him with intent, down one of Muartia Fall's quieter, more ally-like streets

If you decide to intervene, you'll probably get there just in time to see Simon apparently about to break his young assailant's arm in an advanced combat hold. Who really needs protecting here.]


Lucky Cat
[Simon is a regular here, most under the guise of being a normal person. He's been sitting at a corner table for a couple of hours reading the new hit bestseller Fifty Values of #000000, about a meek, plain young coder who unintentionally creates a charismatic BDSM chatbot. He seems a little bemused as he finishes, and gets up to browse the shop's fledgling collection of free literature and put Fifty Values back on the shelf.]


A Bar
[And finally, Simon spends a lot of his evenings in bars. Usually alone, nursing a beer. He's likely to strike up conversation with the bartender or anyone who sits nearby him. What could be the harm? He's a good listener, and he seems a little lonely.]

Comments

Residence

[dendarii]

[ Miles has been a flurry of activity since the elections ended. Getting more details about his duties, visiting Nonah, investigating places to live ... All and all, he's been a bit busy. So he only realizes he hasn't seen Simon in a few days when the man walks back in with a duffle bag over his shoulder. Miles gets up from where he'd been working at the dining room table with his computer. ]

Simon! Where on earth have you been?

Re: Residence

[unclassifiable]

Nonah, doing a little recon. I have a list of suitable quarters drafted up, when you want to take a look.

[The duffel seems a little packed for just apartment brochures, though.]

[dendarii]

[ It's a lot packed for apartment brochures. Miles eyes it with no small amount of speculation. ]

I'd be delighted to. I've drafted a list of my own, but nothing set yet.

[unclassifiable]

[Simon lets out an interested hum as he wanders into the kitchen, setting the duffel on the kitchen table as he goes for the fridge.]

I'll take a look. [He's certainly curious about how much they overlapped.]

[dendarii]

[ Miles drifts after him, desperately curious about that damn bag. ]

Of course. [ A beat. ] But - er, what on earth have you brought back? Seems heavy.

[ He reaches a hand for the zipper. ]

[unclassifiable]

[Holding the carton of orange juice, Simon turns around, brow cocked.]

I'd hate to know how much liberty you take with my belongings when I'm not here.

[dendarii]

[ Miles freezes, his hand wavering above the mouth of the bag. ]

I'm not snooping. I'm asking.

[unclassifiable]

Of course, [He says blandly.

Finally taking pity on him, Simon walks over to the bag after pouring himself a glass. He yanks the zipper down, revealing a change of clothes—slightly nicer than what he's wearing now—and piles of money.]

[dendarii]

[ Thanks Simon, you've saved Miles from exploding. Though he goggles down at the huge pile of cash sitting in that duffle. ]

What the hell have you been doing, Simon? Where did that come from?

[unclassifiable]

Nothing as interesting as you're likely imagining, Miles.

[dendarii]

Then enlighten me. It's not Dendarii money, obviously.

[unclassifiable]

No, [He says agreeably. To fuck with or not to fuck with...

Well, he's tired.]

Just some small-time gambling.

[dendarii]

Gambling. Well - I suppose you could count cards extremely well.

[ A pause. ]

Aren't you being paid enough by the family?

[unclassifiable]

Not enough to keep up with my short list running for office. This is for the security budget.

[dendarii]

Er - well, I suppose we've encountered some nasty sorts, but - I don't imagine my new position should be that much worse.

Residence

[jacksonian]

[ Mark, by sheer coincidence, ends up arriving at the Residence at the exact same time, likewise after a few days' absence. He, however, is burdened with nothing at all, and so - after pulling a strange, slightly uncomfortable face - holds the door for Illyan as he comes in. ]

Sir.

[unclassifiable]

[Simon takes in the odd expression without letting any curiosity show. He gives him a brisk, greeting nod.]

Ensign.

[jacksonian]

[ And Mark closes the door behind him and slouches in after him, hands in his pockets. With just a hint of awkwardness, he nods to the bag. ]

Coming back from the gym?

[unclassifiable]

No, I've been gone for a few days, as well. Did you have a restful vacation?

[jacksonian]

Uh - how - ?

[ He starts to ask, but...No, of course Illyan knows. Mark is frequently gone when he just can't take all this family togetherness anymore - no secret there - and it's Illyan's job to know the security status of his charges. So. ]

I was working. But...I had a profitable time, yeah.