shipmaster | (no subject)

[Bel certainly hadn't. There's a certain fitful state where one's brain simply doesn't turn off. Alternating between blazingly angry, oddly touched, and overtly frustrated, Bel spent a great deal of the night thinking about the things they should have said in varying levels of drama.

The morning finds the herm with a blanket over their head as to not stare any longer at the dress and suit folded nicely on the dresser.

One hand blearily feels for the comm after the morning notifications turn back on, and drags it under the covers to check the message.]

[ The message is quite brief, and text only. Sent maybe an hour ago judging by the timestamp. ]

Stall him for me. I'm going to rescue Naismith.

Edited 2016-12-31 04:29 (UTC)

[ Bel stares at it blankly for a few moments, muzzily putting together what this cryptic message means before the alarm sounds in the back of their head got through the morning fog.

It didn't matter exactly what it meant, whatever was going on, it was absolute and 100% hands on deck, and by the look of things, needed to have been two hours ago. They tear out of bed, throw on the first passable sets of garments they could get a hold on and tore out into the hall. ]

Good morning! Have you see Miles? Or Roic? [ Bel doesn't even exactly SEE who they're addressing, it's just the person closest and that's what matters. ]

[ It's the servant in the hallway holding their breakfast on a tray. She startles a bit at Bel's wild questioning, but ... well, this is the Vorkosigan house. ]

Um, milord left a couple hours ago. He was headed into the city, I think. Are you looking for him?

Oh lovely, thank you. [They scoop the tea up off of the tray and take a somewhat scalding and reinforcing gulp. No, it's absolutely terrible.]

Did he go with anyone?

[ She shakes her head. ]

No, he didn't take any armsmen. Just a driver for the groundcar.

[ There's a faint sound of someone pulling back in with said groundcar downstairs. ]

-- Oh, that must be milord now. Would you like me to fetch him for you?

[ WHAT DID HE DO? ]

Ah, yes, that would be wonderful. Give me a moment to get dressed properly, would you?

[ And not wring his little neck. WHAT WAS HE DOING GOING OUT WITHOUT A BODYGUARD? ]

Of course.

[ She curtseys and sets the tray down for Bel. It'll be a few minutes ... there's the sound of conversation downstairs. The servant's higher tones against someone with deeper, rolling ones. Miles' own reedy ones can't be heard at all. There's confusion on the servant's part, stubbornness from the driver. ]

[Bel has half an ear cocked towards it, and ends up muttering to themselves a moment.]

That must be the 'him'... delay him... why I'll... dammit.

[Bel does, for the record, take their damn time getting ready, picking out a decent outfit, running a brush through their hair, pausing now and then to get a sip of tea or a bite of breakfast.]

[ Indeed, 'his' tones soon surface. Utterly bland and unremarkable. Quietly, steadily inquiring from the other two. And then, after a response from the servant, silence. Only the quiet sound of footsteps in the hallway provide warning before the door swings open - and Simon Illyan himself stands in the doorway. ]

Bel Thorne. Good morning.

[ Hopefully you're not naked. ]

[You know who doesn't give a crap about nudity? Betans. The sound of what voice it had been certainly had straightened Bel's spine. To this point, they'd very specifically dodged any confrontations with the ghost like head of ImpSec. Even in the galactic side, there are plenty of wide rumors about what happens when the Barrayarans pull you in for "interest."

The cursing had gone back to internal. Delay HIM???? MILES WHAT ARE YOU DOING RIGHT NOW?

Bel had cared much less about putting on a top than they did about cursing about their window to send Roic out to collect the little lord had soundly shut. Their hands settle at their hips straightening, and frowning, as Simon enters without a knock.]

Sir.

[ Well. Okay. Not the first set of breasts Simon has seen, oh no. He just looks a bit bemused by the lack of clothing as he focuses his gaze on the former captain's face. He enters the room and takes one of the chairs for himself. Nodding for Bel to do the same. Or not; one gets the sense that it doesn't really matter to Simon. He'll do his job either way. ]

Is Miles in this morning?

[ Oh lovely. TIME TO ADMIT INCOMPETENCE TO THE HEAD OF IMPSEC.

THIS IS NOT HOW I PICTURED DYING FOR YOU MILES NAISMITH, YOU ASSHOLE.

They don't sit, too much nervous energy for that.]

I'm afraid I haven't quite gotten to out of bed to take full stock... Is something wrong?

[ The head of ImpSec folds his arms over his chest nonchalantly. The words, when they come, are a sarcastic drawl. ]

I'm not sure. His servants are very confused about his whereabouts. One claims Miles went out this morning, while the driver claims he drove to Imperial Medical and back with no passenger.

[ His gaze becomes a razor blade. ]

But surely his bodyguard is more competent.

Edited 2016-12-31 14:31 (UTC)

[ OH. MY. GOD. Going to rescue Naismith indeed. WHAT IS THAT LITTLE SHIT FALSIFYING RIGHT NOW

Bel's face gives away little things. The moment of widened eyes, the pursing of lips, before all of that washes into the very typical mix of guilt, shame and anger that comes from a really top tier use of sarcasm. It was so fast that it could possibly be missed if one wasn't watching carefully for it.]

Oh good lord, Miles.... Hang on, let me get dressed.

[ Simon is blandly, grimly satisfied in return. Just as he expected. ]

I'll be outside.

[ The tone suggests that he expects Bel sooner rather than later. He stands, then exits the room soundlessly. ]

[Bel does double time things now, eating a bit of sausage in between the rather plain prep. It's not a favor to Simon. It's the fact that Bel is intensely uninterested in Simon being out there unescorted and able to poke into anything.

There's nothing to hide, but there's a POINT of the matter. You never let an auditor roam.

Primped, clean and ready, Bel has a plan.

Not the spiteful plan of LEADING SIMON RIGHT TO THAT WRETCHED LITTLE SCHEMER...

As much as it was tempting.

The actual plan. MILES YOU BETTER KNOW WHAT YOU ARE DOING.

When they emerge, they're holstering their weapons and give Simon a perfunctory nod.]

Have you checked the Vorrutyers, yet?

[ Simon detaches from the wall he'd been leaning against with the fluidity of a shadow. ]

The Vorrutyers? Which ones do you think he's with?

[ Simon already knows about Donna, of course. ]

The Lady Vorrutyer. I didn't catch a name, but we talked last night of meeting again.

He must be in one of his particularly manic moods for him to take it the fey way around. He'd had a downswing last night, so this would be right on time.

[ Simon frowns faintly at that. ]

They were preparing to leave for Beta Colony. Is he planning to join them?

[ HE BETTER NOT. No, if anything, Bel is certain that Miles is actually at the medical facility right now. Doing something he absolutely shouldn't be doing. ]

We'd talked about it, but I really doubt he'd go without me. I've got quite a bit of business there to wrap up. No... I think it's more getting a game plan while she's away.

Edited 2016-12-31 15:21 (UTC)

[ It's just wriggly and Milesian enough that Simon has to consider it. Not even believe it, necessarily, just consider it. He nods after a long moment. ]

We'll take the groundcar there first.

[ He heads down the stairs to do just that, glancing back to make sure Bel is following. ]

[ Well, that's enough time to think of destination number two. They stride along after Simon, giving a nod to the driver. Dammit, no way to decant that bit of information yet, either.

As the groundcar pulls smoothly out, Bel settles into the cushions...]

So, I'm going to assume something is tearingly important.

[ Simon settles in across from them, his expression as bland as always. ]

He's turned down a mission. I don't need to tell you how unusual that is.

[ He leans forward ever so slightly. Here in this groundcar, locked in with no easy way out. ]

Any idea why he would do that?

Not as unusual for us, sir. With the outside missions, if he doesn't like it, we don't fly it.

[ And no lovely distractions in order to compose, in the mean time, throwing shade and fishing for more information will have to do.. ]

But he was on a downswing... did you give it to him yesterday?