Simon Illyan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
never_forgets) wrote2017-06-28 09:15 pm
never_forgets) wrote2017-06-28 09:15 pm
An Experiment
OOC: Because apparently dramatic irony is a thing I enjoy inflicting on this character, this thread involves the pre-canon Lieutenant Illyan, from a point in the middle of the trip that will change his life.
Lieutenant Simon Illyan of the Barrayaran Imperial Security service, being between wormhole jumps on the way to Illyrica, is taking a break. Since he's never been to this space station before, he doesn't notice the discontinuity between the outside of the door to the bar, and the inside of the bar he walks into.
He's traveling on official business but with orders to keep the trip quiet, which means not only that his ImpSec Horus eyes are packed securely in his luggage with the rest of his credentials, but also that his dress and posture are almost actively unmemorable. To an outside observer, he's a brown-haired young man (probably in his mid-20s) in plain civilian clothes, who might just be off work or might be on vacation. (To a trained observer, he probably looks like someone with military training trying to act like a civilian and mostly succeeding.)
He takes a seat at the bar and attempts to suppress the visible part of his surprise when the drink he was thinking about appears in front of him.
OOC: I won't be able to respond right away, but am open to multiple threads on this post, assuming this location and asynchronous communication works for others.
Lieutenant Simon Illyan of the Barrayaran Imperial Security service, being between wormhole jumps on the way to Illyrica, is taking a break. Since he's never been to this space station before, he doesn't notice the discontinuity between the outside of the door to the bar, and the inside of the bar he walks into.
He's traveling on official business but with orders to keep the trip quiet, which means not only that his ImpSec Horus eyes are packed securely in his luggage with the rest of his credentials, but also that his dress and posture are almost actively unmemorable. To an outside observer, he's a brown-haired young man (probably in his mid-20s) in plain civilian clothes, who might just be off work or might be on vacation. (To a trained observer, he probably looks like someone with military training trying to act like a civilian and mostly succeeding.)
He takes a seat at the bar and attempts to suppress the visible part of his surprise when the drink he was thinking about appears in front of him.
OOC: I won't be able to respond right away, but am open to multiple threads on this post, assuming this location and asynchronous communication works for others.
no subject
"She can take a bit to get used to," Quatre says. He's shucked his suit jacket (the bar's keeping it), but he's still wearing the rest of his three-piece suit that's only real splash of color against the shades of blue is a butter yellow cravat with matching cuff links. He extends his right hand. "Quatre Winner."
no subject
With the introduction complete, he backtracks slightly. "She?" The question is accompanied by a raised eyebrow and a quick scan of the area behind the bar.