maskormenace | (backdated to pre-Pan plot -- also threadjack Miles in the comments!)

(backdated to pre-Pan plot -- also threadjack Miles in the comments!)

[There is a thin, angular man with dark neat hair and intensely focused hazel eyes on the screen. He clears his throat when the vid starts; he's had to swallow down his nerves and put on his calm political mask to speak. His accent is a gravelly, guttural sort of Russian, as if Russians went into space and were fast-forwarded a thousand years. Which they did.]

Hello. My name's Greg. I'm adding to your barrage of new arrivals. It's still very surreal to be here, if for no other reason than that I'm on pre-space travel Earth.

[He does look honestly bemused by that.]

I was wondering what the regulations are for obtaining jobs around here. They've assigned me one, but I was hoping for something... low key. Normal, menial work. [A quirk of his lips.] I have experience putting in lights, if that's relevant, and as a navigator.

I was also looking for confirmation that all of the, ah, abilities listed in our files are real. I'd prefer not to test something like this to find out.

Thank you.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[He nods, relaxing a bit.]

Fair enough. I wish you well with settling in and finding more appropriate employment for your skill sets. I'll be in touch.

Thank you, Dr. Gottlieb. I appreciate this.

[ And he quietly turns his side of the communicator off. For once Gregor's going to end up being the more talkative of the two - Miles can scarcely bear to look at this mirror of himself. ]

[Miles may have turned off the comm, but if he turns it on, he'll have a message from a very excited Newt who is practically bouncing in his seat.]

--HOLY SHIT HERMANN. HOLY Fucking SHIT, I GO ON A COFFEE RUN AND YOU ACQUIRE A TWIN FROM ANOTHER DIMENSION--WHAT ARE THE ODDS, ok, not literally, I don't literally want you to tell me what the odds are but WHAT ARE THE ODDS. Of all the dumb faces, this place chooses to bring two of you!

[He runs a hand through his hair, not to smooth it, but in an excited, nervous, manic gesture.]

But yes! Hi! The name's Newton Geiszler--the Doctor Geiszler that Hermann, uh, Dr. Gottlieb mentioned--his biologist--but, uh, call me Newt!!

Only Hermann gets away with calling me Newton here.

[Breathless.] Wow.

He's--you're so ...young. (I swear to god, Hermann, he looks almost like you did when we met. Dude, this is fantastic. You'd have told me if you were a clone, right?) How did-- Do I--Not to parrot your buddy's question, but do I look familiar to you? Is there a Newt Geiszler equivalent in your world and have you met him?

This is bizarre. This is just, I mean, it's fantastic, but ...two Hermann.

You're late, Newton, and we may look alike, but that does not mean he is anything like me.

I am not late!! You started without me! You could have WAITED.

And yeah! No, I don't think he's like you. Hey. Hey! WHAT? I said he looked like when we met, I wasn't--stop the death glare.

[Calms down just a little, but he's still fairly miffed]

Just so long as you get it through your head that there are not in fact, two of me.

[He thinks you're being ridiculous, Hermann.] Herm, babe, don't worry. I've only got brainwaves for you.

Do not call me that. [But okay, he's reasonably reassured] Anyway, we'll see if we share any actual similarities when we return. There's no reason we should..

[Casually pats his knee.] Scared? Look, if you two are alike or aren't, it doesn't change who either of you are, does it? I mean, does it matter?

Of course not. [His tone is a little too sharp for that to be true. He glances down to his lap, then looks straight at Newton]

Does it?

[Oh god, that face. Hermann. Newt considers turning off the feed to give them some privacy because, wow, Hermann-insecurity is not a thing Hermann would want broadcast.]

As a biologist, Hermann, let me assure your mathematical brain that we humans are a lot more than just our DNA. FUNNY, I know! Things are more than just what they're coded to be.

[He nods, although from a programming standpoint, it doesn't make sense. But Newton's a biologist- and a brilliant one at that- so he'll take some comfort in that for now.

And there's no reason they should have any similarities beyond facial structure. Once that was proven, all of them could feel better about it. He patted Newton's hand]

I'll take your word for it.

[But you're NOT taking his word for it and that pat feels more patronizing than reassuring and he's not happy with you. ]

You said once to me that self-pity didn't suit me--well, it sure as hell doesn't suit you, you asshole. Look. [His movements imply putting something together, although it's more building blocks (or putting things into a box, who knows) than mechanics in the motions.] You could take the exact same code, same specs, same kind of parts and paint and finish and whatever else and make a shiny new Cherno Alpha. It could be the Exact. Same Thing. down to the nuts and bolts. Still wouldn't be your favorite. Without the Kaidonovskys piloting, it's still NOT Cherno. It's not the same. It's the same code, but it's--the history is different, the experience is different, the-- [Grasping motion. Trying to make a point here.]

It's not HIS tape down the center of our lab, okay? Happy? God damn, Hermann, stop being a kicked puppy.

I am not-

[There's that anger again, flaring and confused without direction. He pulls away and shuts off his feed, then marches his way into the kitchen for tea- or maybe a drink. He's unsettled and frustrated, impatient and wishing they could perform that testing now before they left so he didn't have to worry about it while they're on vacation.

Hermann opens the fridge, closes it, then rifles through the cabinets for their various packs of tea.

They're not the same- they aren't. But it still bothers him. Two Hermanns. What if there were similarities? Significant ones. And the man is young, he half-resents him for that alone. Then he also has the gall to be friendly.

Everything was fine until Newton started talking to him. Mostly, at any rate.]

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driftsintobuffetline - 2016-01-03 07:59 (UTC) - Expand

[ Really, Newt. Really. Fortunately by now Miles has had his outburst with Gregor and is much, much calmer on this topic, or this could have gone rather uglier. There's still a slight gap between receiving the message and Miles responding to it.

Talk about role reversal. The scientist who looks like Miles is the taciturn one, and the one that more closely resembles Gregor (albeit without anywhere near the same level of similarity) seems to have Miles' manic energy. Dear god. Is that what it's like dealing with him all the time? No wonder Ivan complains so much.

It's charming by the time Miles gets to the end of the message, so he manages to smile genuinely. ]

How are you so sure there aren't two Miles? Because that's what I see here. [ Joking, really. ]

... Regardless, it's good to make your acquaintance, Newt. Dr. Gottlieb had mentioned the possibility of coming up to run a few tests next week? See how similar we really are.

Ha ha, very funny. [ Still, he's dealt with clones. Monster clones, but still. He eyes Hermann suspiciously, then laughs. ]

The fact that you're willing to let me run a test on you at all basically tells me you two have little in common other than that face.

[ You do not even know. He grins just a bit. ]

Most likely. I assure you that I'm no scientist - though, I am used to seeing double. My progenitor just happens to not be here, unless Hermann here is secretly a time traveling Barrayaran Vor lord.

Not unless [stumbles a little over the name] Barrayaran Vor is secretly Bavaria. Or vice versa. Probably not the weirdest or most sci-fi thing between the four of us, to be honest, so what should I be on the lookout for if he's one of those? Tentacles? Please say tentacles. [No, really, please don't.]

If not a scientist, what are you, exactly? I'm late to the party and haven't combed through all the replies you've gotten, so you're gonna have to humor me if there's some redundancy in my questions. What do you and your pal do back home?

[ He can barely get a word in edgewise. It's exhilarating. It's terrifying. ]

No, no tentacles. Entirely human. Alien only in the most technical sense of the word.

[ Miles bows a little. ]

Admiral Miles Naismith, of the Dendarii Free Mercenary Fleet. And my companion is Greg Vorthys, a Barrayaran Vor lord currently on the run from his home planet.

Well, that's a relief.

[How very scifi indeed. Newt makes a little face at the bow, as if he thinks you're very hoity-toity for it, Miles.] Fancy. What exactly does the Mercenary Fleet do, beyond taking on illicit human cargo? And what's your fleet of? Spaceships? Or something actually cool and unique?

[ It's instinct, jeez. He at least grins rather widely all through it. ]

Spaceships, primarily. A wide variety thereof. We take on a number of contracts - precision rescues, war prevention, that kind of thing.

Wow, you are...so totally NOT Hermann. I mean, I think you're Hermann's wet-dream of what he'd be in another universe, but you're so totally NOT him it's actually kind of frightening. I'm going with YOU being the evil twin.

Now, uh, aside from your power to look uncannily like my labmate--(labmate, right, Hermann? That's the word you're choosing to describe me with right now, because if it's not, let me know, you know I'd hate to misrepresent us)--what exactly are your powers? Is there anything I'm going to have to consider while testing you? Metal bones, poison spit, etc?

I assure you, I mean you no harm. [ His expression is still bright, continuing to joke - ah. And then a spark of real interest. ] But I am recruiting in general, if you'd like to lend your talents to the fleet on a part-time basis.

[ And .. ahaha. Powers. The bond he has no intentions of discussing; the other two options are ... embarrassing. ]

Nothing that would harm you, nor anything that would be obvious on your machines. [ A pause. ] But I do have extremely fragile bones. I've had countless surgeries trying to resolve the issue and haven't really had any better results than what I am now.

Oh, you assure me, huh? It's been my experience that that phrase is usually said by people that mean exactly the opposite! [ But he's laughing because, damn, that's Hermann's face joking with him and Newt, who has poor self-preservation anyway, is tempted to trust him. ] And 'my talents'--you don't even know the EXTENT of my talents yet, or Hermann's. But anyway, Mr. Hotshot Mercenary, I don't see a fleet, so what exactly are you recruiting for?

[But the discussion of powers.... The teasing fades, as does Newt's smile, and for once the excitable man looks thoughtful, a bit sad. Is no version of this man's body spared from dramatic health issues.]

Osteo-- Osteogenesis Imperfecta, is that it?

Haven't decided yet. It will depend entirely on who I recruit, since - as you have so aptly noticed, I have no fleet at hand at this point. [ He grins again. ] In that sense, it'll depend on what the extent of your talents. Yes.

[ Ah ... Always a fun topic. He pauses for a minute, considering what he can say as part of his cover and what he should say on the network, in general. He is not opposed to being as frank as possible with someone offering him medical help - and who will be looking at his genetic code very shortly. ]

Not exactly, though I think there are many similarities between that condition and mine. Mine was a teratogenic defect. Something gone desperately wrong during the cloning process.

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