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Ivan has just recently been assigned to Earth. It's very cultural. He has already explained Vor to groups of natives four separate times. Some of them seem to find it really hilarious to call him Lord Vorpatril. He doesn't mind; some of those people are girls who giggle it and bat their eyelashes. He likes it here just fine.
After he finishes with his day-job duties (separate from attending diplomatic functions to stand around and look handsome) he attempts to let himself out of the room with the comconsole and all its data to sift through, only to find that the hallway has turned into a bar.
He looks over his shoulder. The office is still normal. Which is to say there are no other exits.
Ivan goes into the bar, squinting.
middlingalong
unmarred
They resume their interrupted conversation about pre-industrial military tactics and the Holmes books' scientific inaccuracies. It's pretty much impossible to follow from the outside; Mark almost never lets Miles finish a sentence, preferring to interrupt with his response as soon as he knows what the rest is going to be.
thisvorlunatic
Miles has totally adjusted to this style of discourse and is fully absorbed in the topics at hand.
middlingalong
Ivan finds that vaguely interesting for about five minutes, but eventually wanders off to go out for the evening.
thisvorlunatic
When he comes back from that, Miles is still there and they have moved on to a different Holmes story and a different history book.
middlingalong
Ivan, slightly tipsy and very worn out from his night on the town, says, "You bookworm twins are going to have to move to Miles's room unless you want to switch to unadulterated telepathy, 'm going to bed."
thisvorlunatic
Miles checks the time.
"...I should probably sleep at some point. The books will still be here in the morning. 'Night, Ivan. 'Night, Mark."
And back to his room he goes.
"...I should probably sleep at some point. The books will still be here in the morning. 'Night, Ivan. 'Night, Mark."
And back to his room he goes.
middlingalong
Ivan crashes for the night. Zzzz.
The next day, after he does his work, he finds his room empty, presumes that the twins-six-years-apart are in Miles's room, and he knocks perfunctorily and lets himself in.
The next day, after he does his work, he finds his room empty, presumes that the twins-six-years-apart are in Miles's room, and he knocks perfunctorily and lets himself in.
unmarred
"One, yes you do, two, scientific consensus has changed in the last thousand years, three, you've seen me do it, you clearly know that it works," says Mark. "Hi, Ivan."
middlingalong
"Your arguing about books has a time limit," says Ivan, "Miles, th'captain wants you at the little shindig the ambassador's hosting for the new Zoave Twilightan - Twilightian? Zoavian? Whatever the word. The new ambassador from Zoave Twilight."
unmarred
"Miles wants me to be his substitute because he thinks it's going to be boring. I don't want to be his substitute, because I know it's going to be boring."
middlingalong
"I'm very sociably inclined. Anyway, Miles, dress greens, look sharp, it's in an hour."
middlingalong
"Suck it up," snorts Ivan. "I'm going to go change. But call me in if you decide to argue with a mirror."
