Minor Characters (
alicornucopia) wrote in
alicornutopia2014-12-19 10:42 am
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Entry tags:
why is there a word for that
Finnah's just arrived at work to open the store for the morning shift; she has her apron on but hasn't put her hair up yet. She lets in the customer who always takes half an angle to determine that he wants four buttercreams, again, and then nips into the back to tend to her hair and check the overnight progress of the rock candy.
This isn't the back.
But that -
No, he's too tall to be Mial, if this is a Mial prank it's a stupidly elaborate one.
"Okay, I give up," she says, "what the hell?"
This isn't the back.
But that -
No, he's too tall to be Mial, if this is a Mial prank it's a stupidly elaborate one.
"Okay, I give up," she says, "what the hell?"
no subject
no subject
"Isn't him being your cousin a reasonably clear trajectory?" wonders Aurin reasonably.
"You would think that. But no, absolutely not," says Ivan.
no subject
no subject
"Miles was various flavors of depressed about the concept of girls for a while until he landed on a semi-hostile planet and improbably carried off a maiden from it," says Ivan.
Finnah snorts.
no subject
"Unflattering but basically accurate?" says Mial.
"Yep," says Miles.
"—heh, you're not a shren, what does your cousin do when you're in a mood?"
"...Well, it depends on the severity of the mood... why, what does yours do?"
Instead of answering, Mial inexplicably bursts out laughing.
no subject
"So when he gets in a particularly prolonged mood sometimes I have to defenestrate him," says Aurin, "why do you have a word for that."
no subject
"When I'm too far gone for it to work, he knows not to try it," Mial explains. "That's not often, though."
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Stalas is looking at Mial with a thoughtful frown.
no subject
"What is the gender distribution of these immense crushes?" he asks.
no subject
no subject
"Mostly girls, but if they're thin on the ground or into it, sometimes guys," shrugs Ivan.
Aurin nods.
no subject
"Of people I've been attracted to in passing, mostly girls. Of people I've fallen in love with—both guys, but it's not a high number to begin with so I don't know if it's just coincidence," says Stalas.
"That's weird, I wonder why we're all different?" says Mial.
no subject
no subject
no subject
"Yeah?" says Mial.
"There's no - social censure, is there, for liking both, where you're from?"
"No..." says Mial.
"There's quite a lot on Barrayar. Stalas?"
"Not... not a lot," says Stalas, "but dwarven population problems, so. I've always meant to marry a nice girl and settle down eventually. Do my part. Or at minimum screw a lot of noble hunters when I'm older and ready to have kids. And while it's not exactly something you get heat for, it's not something you flaunt, either."
"So apparently the Platonic form of the Miles is bisexual, and I've just had it beaten out of me by Barrayaran social norms," Miles concludes. "And Stalas has had his bisexuality slightly dented, and Mial's is flourishing."
no subject
"What is that?" asks Aurin.
"It is why she is so pretty and long-haired and whatnot. Fiddly business with her - do you have, you know, genomes, in Elcenia, you are a magic dragon, how should I know."
"...I mean, I can tell that it's a word, in your language, which means things, but not as such," says Aurin.
no subject
"Dragonishes," says Mial. "I want to hear this too."
no subject
"Exactly like, sometimes," says Finnah levelly, "if they're full-blooded dragons, in the same species of form. Parunias like Mial or his dad, not so much. But for humans and so on, yeah, people look like their parents more or less."
"So, the reason that happens - at least in humans; I can't begin to speculate on why dragonishes work that way - has to do with very tiny chemical 'instructions' all through all the cells of the body, which are split into various halves for gametes and recombined -"
"Does this have anything to do with why I can only ever have daughters, assuming I don't enlist outside help or spontaneously start liking boys?" Finnah asks.
"Yes, or at least so I'd assume - females have two of a specific sub-instruction and males have one of those and one of a different one, instead. Anyway, with the right equipment you can have a detailed look at those instructions and change them around, and it's customary in my social class of origin to do this as a matter of such total routine that I don't technically have parents but do have many substantial advantages at almost everything relative to untampered-with humans."
no subject
"It's possible we could find out," says Miles. "Linya? Where'd you put that med scanner? Or would we need something more involved?"
no subject
"Uh, what's that?" asks Aurin.
"It picks up medical sorts of information about you noninvasively."
"Medical sorts of... huh?"
no subject
"...What?" says Miles.
no subject
"Where you're from what happens if someone gets injured, or sick?"
"Uh, they go to a light?" says Finnah. "Unless they are a light, and then they go to a witch and pray."
"And a light is...?"
"Oh wow, no lights," breathes Finnah.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...