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[failureisntachoice]

[ An automated voice speaks because someone hasn't bothered to set up a proper voicemail. The only part in her voice is her name. ] You have reached Agent Texas. Leave a message at the tone.

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[use_everything]

[Her Complicated Man, the other AI formed from memories of a man and a love affair. Was it loneliness? Grief? Some ache he couldn't understand from their origins? He takes another thoughtful sip, enjoying the enlivening burn to it.]

Is it very different? The life you two return to?

[failureisntachoice]

[ She snorts and motions for the bartender to pour her another beer from the tap. The glass gives her something to keep her hand on while the other grips the edge of the counter. ]

You could say that. As soon as we return, we're blasted away by an EMP. [ Did they even have those in his time period?

A small sigh then, ] It's an electromagnetic pulse that wipes out all data in range and stops anything electronic in its tracks.

[use_everything]

[There's no music, no conversation in the bar, not this early. Their only company are a few dedicated drinkers, determined to be obliterated before the evening crowd even got out of work.

It's easy to hear his indrawn breath at that, sudden and sharp. He was familiar with EMPs... they'd just phased out recently in his time, made obsolete by Betan hardware casing that now came standard in almost everything.]

I see.

[failureisntachoice]

[ She waves a hand vaguely and keeps her gaze on her glass. This place is far too public for her to let herself be consumed by her emotions, entirely the reason why she's here, but a light glaze forms over her eyes.

She closes them and takes a deep breath. ]

Yeah.

[use_everything]

[He looks back to his scotch carefully giving her privacy. They sit in silence for some few minutes after, the air a bit heavier, both working a bit on their drink... Aral considering how to say what he wants.]

Have you eaten, today?

[failureisntachoice]

No.

[ It's a simple answer and she declines to tack on the I don't need to part. Heading somewhere else would be just as good a distraction as wasting her money at the bar.

She finishes off her beer rather quickly and glances over at Aral. ]

Have a place in mind?

[use_everything]

More of a ... gesture.

[He finishes his drink with a snap, and sets down cash to settle his tab.]

If you would allow me.

[failureisntachoice]

[ She eyes him. ]

You don't want to take care of mine. [ She may not be able to get drunk, but the stench of alcohol on her makes it pretty obvious how much she's had while being here. ]

[use_everything]

Ah. [And may not, on what was left of his pay this week, actually be able to. He glances at her, aside.] You seem steady.

[failureisntachoice]

I can't get drunk unless I want to simulate it. [ Lucky for him, the bartender already has her card on file and she motions for the guy to close her tab out. ]

It was more something to do.

[use_everything]

[He clears his throat slightly, and nods.

... Wasting money, essentially. From her...]

What I have in mind may not be too unalike. [He stands and straightens his sleeves, and starts for the door. This wasn't a place he was like to discuss it.]

[failureisntachoice]

[ She slides her wallet into her pocket and falls into step beside him as he heads out. ]

And what would that be?

[use_everything]

[He winces at the sudden light as they step outside, but his pace remains steady. He thought he had seen something promising on the ride here...

In the mean time, it's a couple of strides along before he begins to answer. He hadn't eaten yet either, today.]

An offering. ... We have no religion, but we hold some traditions. Some burn it to grieve, others to banish the ghosts- burdens of another life, others merely to mark that they can move on.

I don't know if it would have much meaning for you, but.. I would like to show you. As an armswoman of House Vorkosigan.

[failureisntachoice]

[ She's about to speak again with another probing question when he finally answers her question. There's a small frown as she considers it and she watches him from the corner of her eyes. ]

What kind of offering? I was thinking of putting a grave marker somewhere.

[use_everything]

[His mannerism is composed, merely formal, as if explaining a cultural quirk rather than a rather personal ritual.]

It's traditional to burn a lock of hair. [... a memory, still hazy, almost gone, of Cordelia a few days ago...] Sometimes more, if lock doesn't seem enough. Items of worth, symbolic or otherwise, often are included, as well as incense.

Sometimes, words are spoken, memories, curses, sometimes, hopes.

And then most go out to eat- we fast, beforehand.

[failureisntachoice]

[ She runs through a brief inventory of what little they have here and nothing suitable for burning comes up. Maybe Tucker would have something in mind...

At the very least she could get a marker. ]

Is there a certain time that you do these things?

[use_everything]

[He shakes his head.]

Dawn is often chosen, but any you prefer. Do you have something in mind?

[failureisntachoice]

[ She shrugs and shoves her hands in her pockets. ]

Not much. One of his good friends is still here, I thought he might want to join in anything I end up doing.

[use_everything]

[There wasn't much traffic on this road, foot or otherwise. Most of the businesses on this particular collection of buildings didn't begin to attract attention until the sheer amount of rattling neon could replace the night streetlamps. The only other pedestrian their side by side monopoly of the sidewalk they had to move for was a man bundled up heavily against the cold spring breezes, moving briskly in the other direction.

As Aral's pace slows a touch, they've near privacy.]

It is a personal thing, as such, you can invite who you like. Just the two of you, if you wish.

[The suggestion is quiet, less preference and more respect.]

[failureisntachoice]

[ She barely moves out of the way of the oncoming pedestrian, more focused on wherever it is they seem to be going. Or at least on going in general.

She's not sure what Tucker will want or if he'll even want to be there. Their relationship or whatever it was has only recently started to be repaired. Either way she's extending an invitation to him, but whether or not anyone else should be there she's not sure.

There's a small frown and a long moment of silence as she turns this over in her head before deciding. ]

I... wouldn't mind company. You and Cordelia. If you didn't mind.

[use_everything]

[Now that it was less immediate, it was more about the distraction of movement. The vague pathing towards where one might find a proper offering dish and incense was merely a bonus.]

It would be my honor. I'll pass it along to Cordelia as well, though I imagine you may count upon both.

[failureisntachoice]

[ She nods. That's something at least even if it doesn't change what's happened. Maybe she'll get lucky and he'll pop up in a week or so... ]

Thank you. I can ask her myself if you want.

[use_everything]

[Aral hasn't been here long enough to offer such comforting possibilities. He considers and then slowly nods.]

She would be receptive, I imagine.

[failureisntachoice]

[ She thought Cordelia would be. The question is will Tucker? That's something she'll find out shortly even if she feels strange explaining any of this to him. ]

I'll get in touch with her then.

[use_everything]

[He nods at that.]

I'll make arrangements for proper supplies in that time.