Lord Miles Naismith Vorkosigan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
naismith) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tushanshu_logs2014-02-01 03:43 pm
naismith) wrote in tushanshu_logs2014-02-01 03:43 pm
Entry tags:
(closed)
Characters: Miles Vorkosigan, Diana of Themyscira
Date: Backdated about a week?
Location: An unnamed bar in Metal sector.
Situation: Miles has somehow conned poor Diana into meeting him for drinks.
Warnings/Rating: None!
Motivated as he is to make connections and allies, Miles is prompt. He's swapped out the Vorkosigan house uniform he'd arrived in for kedan clothes already, wanting to blend in as much as possible, which is actually more achievable for him here than at home. With the kedan being shapeshifters, it's not unfeasible to run across one under five feet tall, which Miles is. He walks with his spine straight as he enters the bar, unconsciously compensating for his slight hunch, nonetheless confident and uncowed by his circumstances.
By habit, he picks a small table in the far corner, where it's impossible to sneak up on him. He doesn't have more than his stunner with him and he's not expecting combat, but it makes him feel better nonetheless, to be armed and in a secured corner in this incredibly foreign land, completely alone.
No, he's good. It's okay. He has a plan forming. There's no reason to feel overwhelmed.
Miles has two drinks waiting already when Diana arrives, both untouched.
Date: Backdated about a week?
Location: An unnamed bar in Metal sector.
Situation: Miles has somehow conned poor Diana into meeting him for drinks.
Warnings/Rating: None!
Motivated as he is to make connections and allies, Miles is prompt. He's swapped out the Vorkosigan house uniform he'd arrived in for kedan clothes already, wanting to blend in as much as possible, which is actually more achievable for him here than at home. With the kedan being shapeshifters, it's not unfeasible to run across one under five feet tall, which Miles is. He walks with his spine straight as he enters the bar, unconsciously compensating for his slight hunch, nonetheless confident and uncowed by his circumstances.
By habit, he picks a small table in the far corner, where it's impossible to sneak up on him. He doesn't have more than his stunner with him and he's not expecting combat, but it makes him feel better nonetheless, to be armed and in a secured corner in this incredibly foreign land, completely alone.
No, he's good. It's okay. He has a plan forming. There's no reason to feel overwhelmed.
Miles has two drinks waiting already when Diana arrives, both untouched.
no subject
"I have a considerable skill set," he offers, much like he's making a pitch. Miles is a few swallows into his drink now, and as he'd warned, it's already affecting him. He shifts into an oddly convincing, intent cadence without realizing it, his accent sliding from vaguely Russian to flat and nearly American. "Not really relevant for any paid employment I could find here-- except drains, ugh, never again-- but if any of your friends and associates think they could make use of skill in strategy, military command, espionage, investigation... mmm, personnel in general... please give them my name."
no subject
"I think coordination between all of us Foreigners would be an improvement. And if you're familiar with large-scale efforts, perhaps that's where you could help most."