vor | Eighth Cream Cake: [Written/Action/Voice] FORWARD-DATED to the 9th

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Eighth Cream Cake: [Written/Action/Voice] FORWARD-DATED to the 9th

[A week of research was a questionable coping mechanism. It succeeded in keeping him from having to talk to anyone. Also, in keeping him busy. However, a week buried in information brings on a loneliness that makes unchecked depression go rampant.

That's the worst part about it, sometimes. Being so utterly incapable of breaking the ice, of visiting someone and drudging up polite conversation and leaving that loneliness behind. He can't conjure the energy to visit anyone or ask for a visit, but everything is so much worse when he's lonely. Walking that circle is worse than rummaging through page after page of data, wanting to find and yet terrified of finding. He hated it alone in the research rooms, but feared going back to the same cycle, the same circle, as before.

When he comes back, he puts off going back to the flat for as long as possible. He sees to the horses at the stable, introducing the new mare to the others. Horses don't require conversation, but they provide companionship. Gregor is faintly disturbed by that thought, as if working with the horses might be more harmful than therapeutic. He finds himself clutching Babushka's mane in both fists, his face buried in her shoulder, heart pounding with the sudden, dizzy speculation that the one thing that makes him feel happy in this place is poisoned by his own weakness. No. No, no, no, he's not about to start thinking that way. Working with the horses means working with the hands, and that's human interaction. He enjoys that part. There's a premise to it, nothing forced. It's okay. He's being ridiculous about this. Gradually, he releases Babushka's mane. Her placid temperament helps. It's as if she barely noticed.

He should go home and take a shower, but instead he sits in the stable and sends a written message out, filtering it only lazily since it's nothing important.]

[Filtered to Ivan Vorpatril, Buffy Summers, Adele LeBlanc, and everyone who works at the stable or takes lessons - 35% unhackable]

I've come back.
--GVB

[/Filtered.]

[Then, it's anything he can do to keep from going back to that apartment. He knows once he's there, he'll nest in his safe little area and be completely trapped, alone with his own thoughts. So he plunks himself into the coffee shop with a cup of coffee and a cream cake he brought over from the bakery. He should check up on Loki (he has his own problems). He should talk to Nephry (she shouldn't see me like this). Or Molly (neither should she). Or Buffy (no pretending no no no...). Or Adele (nothing she can do). The trouble is that he's not fit to be seen by anyone. There's really nowhere to go but home, is there? Like it or not, he's chained to that place. Heaven forbid he send out a message to any one of them, or even that idiot Ivan, saying, I need help, today is a bad day, I don't care what you do just make sure...

Make sure of what? That he doesn't topple off any more balconies? He knows where death leads here. Everyone does. It would sound so stupid to explain why having one week asleep, one week ushered painlessly by during the wait to go home would be worth a death penalty.

...He needs to talk himself out of thinking that way.

At last, he sends out a voice message.]

The public stables are open, with three horses available to anyone who needs them. Just check them out with the on-duty stable hand.

[After inquiries are responded to, there's nothing to do but go home. Once he is there, he is most likely to curl up on his couch and not answer the door or any messages.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

One can never be certain. People of my ilk either get along eerily well or plot each other's destruction with unholy glee.

...sometimes both at the same time. [He laughs.]

Then you are lucky indeed. What manner of games?

Pretend, mostly. He was always my champion general or admiral or whatnot, while Ivan and Elena were his soldiers. Meant I played the Emperor in Distress a lot. Or just dished out missions.

Ah, those games.

[He smiles, almost fondly.]

I was often the author of pretend, since I was the best read. Though then it always devolved into a pitched battle of heroes, for some reason.

I don't remember if I ever got to actually lead my own troops in battle, even in a game.

I certainly never go to... not that I was all that interested in such things at the time.

It's not about war, just...risk. Previous Emperors were all real soldiers.

[Loki snorts, slumping down into his seat.]

And I wonder, what precisely is so enviable about being a warrior?

Not being a warrior, just...being tested.

There are all manner of tests.

Right. [He sounds like he's heard that line a million times.]

[Loki raises his eyebrows.]

I went to great lengths to avoid becoming a warrior.

[He smiles thinly.]

As little meaning as that has now. And I'm certain the Aesir would agree it is a sorry state on my part, if not downright unmanly.

I had a year on active duty. As a norm space navigator, surrounded by security shuttles.

Tests for you are a different sort than they'd be for anyone else.

But I'm not allowed to be tested. I'm just...constricted. Between my security, my prime minister, and my social secretaries, I'm too busy doing what's expected to make any real changes.

That might be your true test, my friend.

And if I exercise too much power?

[Loki holds up his hand, fingers spread, as if to say, "What did I just tell you?"]

There's no forgiveness for my mistakes, Loki. Barrayar pays for them in lives.

[Loki leans forward, hands clasped loosely in front of him.]

Tell me, my friend, how unchaining yourself from this sort of paralyzing fear is anything but a test?

I try. [His hands clasp together, elbows on his knees.] If I come up with anything on my own, I get regaled about why it's a bad idea.

Also a bit test-like if you ask me.

Sometimes it does not matter what others think. More often than not, in my experience. [A brief grin.] Though that you may wish to take under advisement. [Hm, not caring that people call him a mass-murderer or a monster may be a bit much.]

Except they're the ones with the experience.

They are not the Emperor. The decision is ultimately not theirs to make, nor the sin to weigh upon their head should it come to that.

I can't risk lives just to prove a point.

Have I in any way implied that is what you ought to do?

No, you risk lives because you have decided that is the necessary course of action and made the choice.

The experience of others is useful, but it is no ultimate truth.

[Action] Seen one Vor, seen 'em all.

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