Chronicles of Vir Cotto

Ten Questions, Part I

2008-11-03T03:34:16Z

(In response to this meme and for mini_nanowrimo:)

In the year 2261, after the close of the Shadow War, Vir responds to the queries of an unknown correspondent.

1. What is your full name?

My full title is: Vir Cotto, Attaché to Ambassador and Prime Minister Londo Mollari of the Centauri Republic. But you can call me Vir. Most people do, and I don’t mind.

7. Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks.

I’m a very ordinary Centauri – not special or attractive at all. As Humans mark time, I am a little less than thirty. I had a surgery when I was very young, so I walk funny and do have scars on one leg. I’m also near-sighted, asthmatic, and clumsy. I’m not tall, and until recently, I was heavy. Londo called me his “moonfaced assassin of joy” once early in our time together (he was – er – personally occupied at the time and not in the mood for interruptions) because my face was very round. And it still is – sort of. My hair and eyes are brown, and I wear my hair in the traditional noble way, though I try not to spend too much time on it. (There is an Earth animal – a bird of some kind – that I’ve overheard some Humans compare to our hair, but I’ve forgotten the name of it. It begins with a “P,” I think.) My clothes are well made and also traditional (Londo insists upon that) – waistcoat, blouse, trousers, great coat – but I don’t pick especially striking colors or jewelry because I don’t like to stand out.

88. Are you generally introverted or extroverted?

I’m in the middle, I suppose. I’m not like my friend, Lennier, who spends many hours alone in quiet contemplation. Lennier is a good man – dedicated to his faith (later, I should tell you what he did for the Markab on Babylon 5), committed to Delenn – it is an honor to know him – but I do have to be very careful when I am around him. We Centauri define personal space very differently, you see – it’s normal for us to touch each other – to kiss and hug as friends – to express our feelings in a physical way. And, well – back when we were first getting to know each other, I’m afraid I accidentally embarrassed Lennier a few times by getting too close for his comfort. Once, after Mr. Garibaldi let us both ride his motorcycle, I – made a mistake in my excitement and threw my arms around Lennier. He was mortified, and I was terribly sorry about the whole thing for weeks. I couldn’t even talk to him without blushing.

But I’m not like Londo, either. I believe the Earther word for Londo is “raconteur.” What I mean is, Londo can walk into a room of almost complete strangers and keep them entertained for hours, especially when he’s in his cups. And what’s more, he likes to do that. He never gets tired at a party. I’ve seen him stay up drinking and laughing with people in the casino until Babylon 5 Standard morning – when he doesn’t pass out beforehand, at least.

When I arrived on Babylon 5 years ago, the first thing Londo asked me to do was prepare his ja’ala - which I’ve since discovered is actually a pretty effective hangover cure.

It may be difficult for you believe this – and I understand why, I do – but Londo’s capacity for friendship – his capacity for love – is boundless. And when he chooses not to act upon his natural impulses for reasons of ambition, patriotism, or anything else, he is miserable. The past few years, Londo has, through his own choices, locked himself out of the company of most other people. There are very few who trust Londo now – and very few Londo trusts in return. And as a consequence, I have been forced to watch as my friend dies a little bit more with every passing day.

It’s not natural for Londo to be alone. He needs companionship almost like we all need air. Isolation is a torment – one he has brought upon himself, yes, but a torment just the same.

I’m not like Londo. I’ve had to learn how to be happy alone. But that’s not my first choice – solitude, I mean. Which is something I never even knew about myself until I was sent to Babylon 5 – until Londo called me his friend and told me he had confidence in me. Londo showed me what I was missing.

(x-posted on the mun's journal)

licenseartistic: October 2007 Prompt

2007-10-27T03:34:27Z

Title: Masquerade
Fandom: Babylon 5
Character: Vir Cotto
Word Count: 1,394
Rating: General Audience
Spoilers: Sic Transit Vir, third season, though the events in the story actually take place sometime before Ceremonies of Light and Dark.

Disclaimer: Babylon 5 and its characters are the property of J. Michael Straczynski and Warner Brothers Television. No copyright infringement is intended.

Prompt: Costume

As the orchestra launched into a new piece, the opening crescendo swelling and breaking over the humid, sweet-smelling evening, the forbidding figure of Bedras Cotto was suddenly swept from his place at the hedges and drawn into the thick of the dance. Volatilis feathers from Lady Drusilla’s headdress tickled Bedras’s face as she pulled him close and led him gently, but firmly, through a tripudo.

“Forgive me for being forward, Lord Cotto, but this dance is brief and there is a matter of some importance we must discuss.” Step, turn, step, step.

“Indeed?” Scanning the assembled for a glimpse of his second and most favored wife, Bedras found her speaking to Lord Refa, the titular host of the evening’s festivities (though Bedras suspected the party was rather more the doing of the ladies of Refa’s household). As Bedras watched, something Refa said made Arava laugh in open delight, and the web of gems that adorned her face glinted in the ambient light. His abdominal muscles tense, his attentions divided, Bedras asked of his new companion, “And what should you want with me, my lady?” Step, turn, step, step. Arava disappeared behind the crowd.

“I wish to know what you intend for your nephew.”

What shall we do about Vir?

The death of Bedras’s youngest brother actually changed very little. As the eldest of the erstwhile Lord Cotto’s four children, Bedras had taken responsibility for most of the particulars of his nephew’s upbringing from the very start. It was he who hired the nurses, consulted the physicians, and vetted the tutors, and if any objections were raised regarding his decisions, Bedras usually dispatched them all with a swift show of his authority. He had always been jealous of his rightful duties; his brother, too passive to raise a properly vigorous dissent.

Still, after his brother’s interment, the question that would repeatedly vex Bedras for many years to come lighted on the lips of his first wife: What shall we do about Vir? And at that moment, Bedras looked down at his nephew’s chubby, white, tear-stained face and felt a distinct twinge of resentment. There was so much of his brother in the boy – the infirmities, the softness, the stumbling of feet and speech, the slowness of wits. Perhaps, some may be tempted to speculate, Bedras’s anger rested upon a base of grief, but if this was so, said grief was far from his conscious awareness.

And so Bedras sent Vir away – first to Lord Cesaro, then to many others as each lord’s patience ran out.

“I’ve never believed the matter merited much thought,” Bedras said with a flick of his heavy cape. “I still do not.”

“But you have been entertaining suitors.”

“I have been called upon by the fathers of several young ladies of age. I have advised them all to disabuse themselves of their matrimonial notions. My nephew is -” Bedras’s lips curled in disgust around the phrase, “- a rank Gordinian.”

Each time young Vir returned to his home estate, shamed, Bedras would square his severe jaw, call in one more favor, then swoop below stairs to wrest Vir from the servants’ quarters and send him on his way again. Each time Vir returned, Bedras found himself delivering the same litany: Vir was not to consort with slaves or staff. He was not to spend his free hours daydreaming in the gardens, reading common poetry, or wiling away the time on any other such nonsense. He was not to sing, for his voice was execrable, nor laugh aloud, for it grated the nerves. He was not to overindulge on tarts, as was his persistent habit, nor eat between meals, for he was clearly fat enough. He was to comport himself with the dignity suitable to a young man of his station. He was to train his focus upon his studies.

And each time, these homilies fell on apparently deaf ears, for though the boy was meek, his faults proved frustratingly resistant to change.

Was it any wonder, then, that when Vir – at the time a youth well beyond his age of Ascension – was discharged from Lord Donato’s services under a cloud of sexual scandal, Bedras abandoned, for the first and only time, the spirit of his own exhortations? For there Vir was, once again without gainful employment – once again standing in Bedras’s personal study amidst the detritus of a shattered reputation – giving timid voice to one of the most foolish of adolescent sentiments, the word “love” tripping from his clumsy tongue.

Bedras forgot himself and blacked the boy’s eye. Whether others had beaten Vir was outside of Bedras’s concern, but until this final embarrassment, he himself had never raised his hand against his nephew – against anyone – in a fit of uncontrolled rage.

“A pity,” Lady Drusilla conceded, bringing Bedras back to the present moment with a dizzying turn, the resultant breeze playing through her shimmering crimson skirt. “Still, it is quite unwise to abandon an opportunity once it has presented itself, no? You have been out of favor for quite some time,” Bedras bristled, his grip on his dance partner tightening ever so slightly, “yet your nephew has won the approval of Ambassador Mollari, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and, I hear tell, even Emperor Cartagia himself. He stands poised to catapult your house into a position of great influence – provided you are prudent and exercise the power that is your right.”

What shall we do about Vir?

“Ambassador Mollari has requested an attaché. It has been decided that you are the appropriate candidate.”

The Earther’s Folly. When the opportunity presented itself, there was only one correct course of action. Of course there was. Sending Vir seventy-five light-years distant to serve a drunken, humiliated minor diplomat who was in no position to argue was a truly elegant solution, and Bedras couldn’t quite suppress his smile when he informed his nephew of the arrangement.

“Tomorrow, you will report to the embassy,” Bedras continued, “to be briefed on the specifics of your assignment. You will then be transported at once to Babylon 5. Ambassador Mollari has already received my letter of introduction and is prepared for your arrival. From this point forward, he alone will be responsible for the particulars of your training.” Then, when Vir offered no reply – indeed, he had avoided his uncle’s eyes completely – the triumphant smirk disappeared from Bedras’s face. “You should thank the gods for your good luck, Vir. Until this position opened, I had despaired of finding a place for you. But Mollari – the old fool is a perfect match. You both deserve each other.”

What happened in the years to follow was entirely unanticipated.

What shall we do about Vir?

“Your proposition?” Bedras asked tightly, his eyes narrowing behind his obsidian mask. Lady Drusilla’s oblique insult had sharpened his focus.

“An alliance – between your house and mine.”

“Forged through marriage, I presume.”

“A marriage between your nephew and my daughter, Lyndisty.” Lady Drusilla gestured toward the center of the courtyard with a subtle movement of one perfectly tended hand. The girl in question sat perched on the edge of a massive stone fountain, framed by the cascade of silver water and a set of iridescent, gossamer wings. Catching sight of her mother, she waved, her dreamy expression changing to one of starry-eyed, innocent delight. “She has only just come of age and has a few unfortunate ideas of her own, but she is her father’s daughter through and through and is quite well versed in our current politics. She would make any man of the court a fine bride.”

“And you are quite confident that I will say yes - even though I have made no secret of my distaste for your husband and his singular methods.”

“I know you will say yes because you are a man of ambition, Lord Cotto. If you were not, you would not have agreed to sup with a man you despise. Or were the rumors of your trip to Babylon 5 in error?” On this, the orchestra finished with a flourish. Without missing a beat, Lady Drusilla curtseyed, keeping her shrewd eyes trained on her quarry’s face.

What shall we do about Vir?

“Lyndisty and I shall wait eagerly for your response. Good evening, my lord.”

Within moments, Lady Drusilla was gone, and Bedras was left with his own thoughts.

licenseartistic: July 2006 Prompt

2006-08-02T05:42:14Z

Title: One
Fandom: Babylon 5
Character: Vir Cotto
Warnings: Tentacle sex – and as close to a PWP as I’m probably ever going to get.
Pairing: Vir/f
Word Count: 1, 082
Rating: Adult. Did I mention the tentacle engaged in sexual activities?
Spoilers: None. Pre-Series. Can be considered a continuation of my previous bit of Vir porn, While Bathing. Is also an expansion of an idea broached in a previous role play. If Vir’s sexual awakening is something you’d prefer not to explore, I suggest turning back now. ;)

Disclaimer: Babylon 5 and its characters are the property of J. Michael Straczynski and Warner Brothers Television. No copyright infringement is intended.

Prompt: First

There was a certain way Ilia Donato ate jakova fruit that always drove Vir to distraction. From the other side of the table, Vir watched, his evening meal temporarily forgotten, as Ilia clasped one delicate stem between two of her carefully manicured fingers, slipped the round, red fruit between her painted lips, caught, with one flick of her tongue, the leaking juice before it dribbled down her chin, and primly disposed of the pit when all had been sucked dry. Then she smiled at Vir and, after one quick glance at her father, reached over and offered him the basket. Vir immediately pinked, turning his eyes away.

She’d noticed.

A month had passed since Vir first realized he was hopelessly, stupidly in love with his employer’s daughter. And the approach of the province’s harvest holidays – a time when all southern girls switched to sheer dresses and flocked to the banks of the Edro to bathe – was hardly a help. Some days before, during an early evening walk through the reeds, Vir had caught sight of Ilia floating on her back down the center of the gently flowing river, her eyes closed, wet blue silk clinging tightly to her form, and he could not move – did not move – until she rolled over, kicked her legs, and disappeared beneath the surface.

The memory made Vir feel very, very warm. After tugging at his collar once, he tucked into his meal, eager to remove himself from the room before there was any further embarrassment.

And retreat he did when he was through. Mumbling a few words of respect to Lord Donato, he hurried into the kitchen with his empty plate, tripping on the way and nearly careening face-first into the cook. Dava dodged him without missing a step or overturning the ja’ala on his tray.

“S-s-sorry!” Vir blurted once he’d regained his footing. Dava smiled, admonishing his young friend to pay attention before ducking through the doorway with his burden. Vir blushed harder and, after depositing his plate on the counter, headed for the outdoors at once, mumbling imprecations to himself and nervously flexing and extending his thick fingers.

The sweet evening air shored Vir up somewhat, and he decided to walk to the river. Perhaps a little bit of cold, fresh water was in order. Shucking his boots and his stockings and leaving them beside the garden pool, he started down the hill, enjoying the ticklish feel of the grass between his bare toes.

Vir had been soaking his feet in the current for a few minutes when Ilia suddenly emerged from behind a tree, startling him nearly out of his senses.

“I-I-I didn’t know you were following me,” he finally managed after a moment of fumbling and gaping like a pesca. Ilia graced him with another gentle smile, and Vir felt the muscles in his legs weaken just a little.

“Then I suppose your debt is settled,” she replied, her eyes alight with amusement. Then, off Vir’s confusion: “A few days ago, you were watching me swim. I caught you before you went to hide.”

Vir’s eyes widened. “Oh! Oh, I-I’m sorry, my lady. That was terribly rude. I-I-I didn’t mean to-” But before he could finish, Ilia rested one finger on his lips, and he fell silent. Then, inexplicably, she took her finger and trailed it lightly down his round cheek. Vir was stupefied.

The next thing Vir knew, he was falling, falling into the reeds, and Ilia was kissing him. He was tasting jakova juice, choking on perfume, and he couldn’t think or breathe. Panicking, he struggled against the embrace until he wiggled himself lose, then scooted backwards, wheezing, hardly noticing the stems that pricked at his palms.

“My lady, I-I-I don’t think – I don’t think this is such a good idea,” he stammered.

“And when will it be a good idea, Vir? After I have been married to Lord Cesaro’s oldest son? That imperious thing is every bit the mirror image of his father. And my father and mothers have already begun to discuss the arrangement.” Ilia lifted her chin in youthful defiance. “But I won’t marry him. He has boils. And he slurps when he eats.”

“But I-” And Vir’s mouth was captured in another kiss.

“Vir?” Ilia gasped when she came up for air. “Don’t talk. You’ve avoided me long enough.” And with one deft hand, she began to pop open the buttons of Vir’s waistcoat and squirm between the laces of his shirt. Vir grunted, arching his back and pressing himself against Ilia as she rubbed his first brachiarte.

The next time they kissed, it was Vir who initiated it to quiet his own moan. Ilia had finally exposed his skin – and his quivering brachiarte - to the breeze. Ilia pushed her tongue insistently into Vir’s mouth to reciprocate, and Vir followed her lead. He felt his brachiarte slip from its pouch, and, almost by instinct, he wrapped his arms around Ilia’s waist and tried to work his fingers between the fastenings of her corset.

The garment would not come loose, no matter how hard he tugged. After a few more moments of inept pulling, his back sank to the ground and he broke away from the kiss.

“Vir, what’s wrong?” Ilia asked, and in her voice was disappointment.

Vir swallowed and closed his eyes against the humiliation. “I-I can’t. I mean, I haven’t.”

Ilia wrapped her arms around Vir’s neck and rested her cheek against his chest. Then she sat up, cupped Vir’s face between her two hands, and kissed him lightly on the forehead. “Neither have I.”

Vir opened his eyes. “Really?”

“Everything I know about sex, I learned from Gordinio’s romance poetry,” Ilia admitted ruefully. Then she laughed, and Vir nervously joined her. Caressing the side of Vir’s face with the back of her hand, Ilia leaned over and whispered into his ear, “It’s all right, Vir.” Vir stopped giggling, stared, then kissed Ilia again, hard.

At last, Vir was able to open Ilia’s corset, and soon her dress was falling open over her smooth shoulders. Vir extended his brachiarte, wrapped it around Ilia, and hesitantly brushed against her first aperto. When Ilia opened her mouth and released a soft moan, he slowly entered, moaning himself at the sensation and wondering what six must be like if this was one.

“COTTO!”

Vir froze, his arms locked around Ilia’s shoulders, as Lord Donato crashed through the bushes and reeds, his face twisted with feral wrath.

The End.

licenseartistic: June 2006 Prompt

2006-07-01T05:16:13Z

Title: No Failure
Fandom: Babylon 5
Character: Vir Cotto
Word Count: 551
Rating: General Audience
Spoilers: Set during A Day in the Strife, third season.

Disclaimer: Babylon 5 and its characters are the property of J. Michael Straczynski and Warner Brothers Television. No copyright infringement is intended.

Prompt:

"Try again. Fail again. Fail better."
~Samuel Beckett

“You are troubled. And you have been drinking.”

Vir sighed and ran his fingers over a large, blue-green leaf. Delenn had steered him into the gardens after he, too preoccupied to pay attention to where he was going, had crashed into her in the corridor. “A little,” he admitted, slurring his words slightly. “Just two.” He looked up, squinting his eyes in thought and rocking just a little. “Or maybe it was three.”

“Because of Londo?”

Vir shot Delenn a look of surprise. Then he pressed his hands against the bench and leaned forward, stilling his fidgets. “I didn’t think… but I-I guess he would ask you.” Then, after a pause: “I’m always being sent away. Ever since… well, ever since I can remember. The only reason I’m here at all is because no one else wanted me.” He met Delenn’s gaze once again. “I-I had twelve different positions before I came to Babylon 5.” The words made his chest ache, deep down. “Did you know that?”

“I did not. But I do not see why that should be important now, Vir,” Delenn replied, and Vir swallowed hard over the lump in his throat. “You have taken what others on your world might see as your failures and have always tried to shape them into something better. And you will take your new assignment and do it again. You understand hope and renewal – even if you don’t realize it. That is something to be praised.”

“But what about Londo?”

“You believe Londo is your failure?”

Vir looked away. “I… don’t know.” Yes.

“Londo has made his choices.” Delenn’s voice was firm. “He is responsible for his own actions. Perhaps it is time you learn to accept that. To do otherwise is to be unfair to you both.”

For a long moment, Vir said nothing as he turned things over in his mind. “I just wish I could’ve done more.”

“Because you have mistaken the movements of empires as the crux of the war. But it is in the heart – not in the vastness of space – that the most important battles are fought, Vir. And you have won some of those battles already.” Delenn waited until Vir lifted his eyes before she continued: “Londo is not sending you away because you have failed. He is sending you away because you have succeeded – because you have loved him - have shown him light - and he has found that he cannot help but love you in return. Where Londo is now, that love is too much for him to bear. But it is still a victory that cannot be erased. It still matters, no matter what Londo’s future may hold.”

Vir struggled to breathe. “I’m afraid for him,” he murmured. “And… I-I’m afraid that I won’t be good enough.”

“You are not alone, Vir. Lennier and I will help you if you wish it. You need only ask.”

Vir rubbed at his eyes and smiled sadly. “Thank you, Delenn. Thank you both.” He felt drained. “I-I’ll try to meet Lennier tomorrow… if that’s convenient, of course. Right now, though… I-I think I need to sleep on things.”

“Of course,” Delenn replied with a dip of her head. “I will not keep you any longer.” And she was gone, leaving Vir alone with his own thoughts.

vir_cotto_tm @ 2005-11-13T10:17:00

2005-11-13T15:20:55Z

<td align="center">Love is most important in your life.

A high love concentration indicates that you want love in your life. It is very important to you and something that you strive to attain.

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com</td>

T_M Challenge: Shame

2005-10-25T15:50:30Z

Talk about something you did that made you feel ashamed of yourself afterwards.

Historian’s Note: This is an excerpt from Emperor Cotto’s personal chronicles, written in 2279.

Lady Mariel, wife of Prime Minister Durla and the former wife of Emperor Londo Mollari, was interred at Apia. And I killed her just as surely as if I had plunged a dagger into her hearts with my own hand. I have many more regrets, but this is my greatest shame.

Almost twenty years ago, I nearly left Londo for good. He had used me, you see, to get to Lord Refa and, he believed at the time, to avenge the death of his love. He used my loyalty, to my family and to him, to lead Refa astray, and for a time, I didn’t think I would ever recover from the knowledge that our friendship had not, in the end, made me indispensable. But I did recover, and, eventually, I forgave.

What does this have to do with Mariel? Well, while I did forgive Londo and, perhaps, had begun to understand why he did what he did, that one, blinding moment of total clarity didn’t truly come until Kane showed me that my trust in Mariel and her affections had been misplaced. Because before then, I had never been hurt in so personal and intimate a way. When you make love, you reveal so much more of yourself than you do even in the closest friendships. It leaves you open, a little dizzy, and very vulnerable. Mariel saw me at my weakest and most exposed, and she laughed. Discovering this, I finally knew what it was like to feel that burning sense that the universe itself had a personal vendetta against me. Cut off both from home and from my peers on Babylon 5, I had been so alone, and Mariel had been a light of hope. To see that light snuffed out before my eyes was, as the Humans say, the last straw. Tired of being hurt, I hardened my heart.

Fourteen words. Strange, that an emotion as complex as love can be enkindled by a spell so simple.

If I was to save my people, I needed a connection to Minister Durla- a spy in the royal palace itself. I had learned that Lady Mariel was Durla’s weakness- and so I asked a wizard to make her my instrument. When she was returned to me, I knew at once that I had made a mistake. But the fourteen words could not be called back. Words never can.

I didn’t simply use her. I imprisoned her. I robbed her of her free will and left her vulnerable to Durla’s insecurity and rage. Nothing she had ever done had made her deserving of such a punishment. Nothing I have ever done- or will do- can erase that mark on my soul. I betrayed my own belief in freedom, and no amount of justification can ever undo that sin.

As it turns out, Londo and I are not that different.

Star Stuff: Specters (originally locked, now open to all)

2005-10-08T03:38:28Z

Continued from here.

Other players are now welcome. The danger has passed. For now.

Briefly, Vir closes his weary eyes. The last day and night have passed in a drug-induced blur periodically interrupted by bouts of violent sickness and painful muscle spasms which have only begun to subside in the last hour. Senna now sleeps beside him, her face finally relaxed, her lips slightly parted. Vir caresses her cheek gently as Risak continues his lecture.

"I do not wish to say I told you so, your Majesty, but... actually, no, that is precisely what I wish." Risak kneels beside the bed. "By all the gods, you could've been killed- and for what? What are you trying to prove?"

"I'm not trying to prove anything," Vir replies, his voice weakened by pure exhaustion. "I'm trying... to confront a ghost."

Star Stuff Prompt: An Unexpected Lesson

2005-09-19T00:09:06Z

Author’s Note: This scene takes place in 2258 between “Born to the Purple” and “Parliament of Dreams.”

Vices

The dim light of the club was hardly fit for a myopic young Centauri, so Vir heard the ambassador bellow his name before he saw him- and he stumbled several times over people and chair legs as he crossed the room, paperwork in hand, toward Londo’s table.

“Ah, if it isn’t my killer of merriment,” Londo said as Vir, apologizing profusely, mopped a spilled drink off a young lady’s blue dress. “And you have brought work, I see?”

“Just a few things. I-I-I was starting the preparations for the negotiations over the trade routes in Quadrant 16, and I just had a few- oh!” Vir cut himself off with a squeak as Londo firmly plopped him into a nearby chair. “Or, you know, I-I could sit and watch the show.”

“Vir,” Londo began in a stern baritone. “You have lived on Babylon 5 for quite some time now, yes?” Vir nodded, suddenly apprehensive. “But it occurs to me that, in all this time, I have not properly introduced you. So- sit. I will buy you a drink- and perhaps,” Londo added with a wave of his hand and a flash of his feral teeth, “see to some other services- and you will come to know Babylon 5 as I know it. Yes?”

“Oh, but I-I don’t drink, Ambassador.”

More than that, there was a scent hanging in the air that was activating his asthma. But Londo paid Vir’s protestations no heed, and soon Vir found himself shyly resisting the lips and wandering hands of a slender alien woman, his blush deepening to the approximate color of a linfra berry.

From that point forward, Vir never brought work to the Dark Star.

Comment at b5_star_stuff.

Another quiz from Roger

2005-09-18T04:08:08Z

You Are A: Puppy!

Beloved by all, puppies are energetic, playful, and loving. Your playful and friendly nature is part of what makes you a puppy. Known for their loyalty, puppies make great pets for young and old alike. And an innocent puppy face can melt anyone's heart!

You were almost a: Chipmunk or a Turtle
You are least like a: Squirrel or a Kitten What Cute Animal Are You?

People do say that about me.

T_M Challenge: "I thought I knew you."

2005-09-11T17:10:42Z

Talk about a time you realized that someone close to you was not the person you thought you knew.

Pawn

Vir hadn’t betrayed Londo, even though a large part of him had screamed that he should if only to escape the emotional exhaustion. He hadn’t betrayed him, and for his trouble, an assault was his reward, fast and careless fingers tearing through the layers of his mind to find the secret beneath. Then, for hours afterwards, he sat under armed guard, shivering and alone, his nose running- sometimes with flecks of crimson. For hours, he sat, needing the toilet, wanting a bath, and, most of all, wanting sleep.

Sleep had come later thanks to Londo and two pills- twenty standard hours of sweaty, restless, nightmare-ridden sleep. Only when he had awoken and the drug induced fog had cleared from his mind did it register that Londo had had the pills in his quarters already. He had known before Vir had told him.

When the pieces of the plan were finally laid out before Vir, it took awhile before confusion gave way to anger- and it took longer still before Londo noticed.

And when he did, he didn’t understand.

Londo knew Vir. He had predicted- correctly- that Vir wouldn’t betray his family- wouldn’t betray him- unless he were forced to do so- and he exploited that knowledge. Vir had given Londo his loyalty, and Londo had used it as a game piece.

Clearing his kitchen, Vir came across a bottle of brivari- 2213, a good vintage. And, with one glance at his open luggage, he decided to get drunk.

Oh, I have some of his vids!

2005-08-31T22:30:24Z

Jimmy Stewart
You scored 7% Tough, 0% Roguish, 76% Friendly, and 19% Charming!

You are the fun and friendly boy next door, the classic nice guy who still manages to get the girl most of the time. You're every nice girl's dreamboat, open and kind, nutty and charming, even a little mischievous at times, but always a real stand up guy. You're dependable and forthright, and women are drawn to your reliability, even as they're dazzled by your sense of adventure and fun. You try to be tough when you need to be, and will gladly stand up for any damsel in distress, but you'd rather catch a girl with a little bit of flair. Your leading ladies include Jean Arthur and Donna Reed, those sweet girl-next-door types.

Find out what kind of classic dame you'd make by taking the Classic Dames Test.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 3% on Tough

You scored higher than 0% on Roguish

You scored higher than 99% on Friendly

You scored higher than 18% on Charming

Link: The Classic Leading Man Test written by gidgetgoes on OkCupid Free Online Dating

And I suppose this oracle isn't wrong. Except... nutty?

[OOC: Hah! I knew Vir would get this answer even before I took the test. *g*]

Greatest Strength

2005-08-07T15:13:20Z

What is your greatest strength?

Author's Note: This vignette- an old snippet from my Notebook of Fic-Like Stuff- takes place in late 2257, after Vir learns of his assignment to Babylon 5.

Departures

The Centauri sun hung low on the horizon, coloring the thinly spun web of clouds that stretched across the sky a brilliant shade of pink. An evening breeze whistled through the trees, cooling Vir Cotto’s face with a gentle caress. He closed his eyes, breathing in the smell of mud and linfra and river reeds, knowing that it was probably that smell he would miss the most.

"I'm not sure I want to leave," he said softly.

Ugo, the gardener, paused in his shoveling and replied with typical simplicity: "Then don't."

Vir flashed the old man a startled look. "I-I-I don't mean..." he stammered. "I mean, I suppose I've always wanted to see what's out there." His gesture took in the darkening sky. "You know... to find out more about the Humans and the Minbari and everyone else. But I never really thought about how it would feel to leave home. And maybe... maybe I didn't quite imagine that this is how I would get the chance." Vir stared at the flower resting in his open palm, running one finger over the silky petals and watching them change color at his touch. "They don't want me," he said, and he finally permitted himself to feel the sadness behind those words.

Ugo put down his shovel, his expression taking on a serious cast. "Vir," he began, and Vir was surprised once again. In all the years that Vir had known him, Ugo had addressed him as "young mister Cotto." Not once- until now- had he ever broken that convention. "You are a good boy. You mean well. But if you want to be a good man, you must be willing to fight on your own behalf.

"Some men are deserving of your respect and obedience, Vir. And some," and here Ugo cast a disapproving look at the estate, "are not. The challenge is in learning to tell the difference.

Vir didn't know quite what to say to that. He didn't know why Ugo was saying this to him in the first place. Ugo, however, seemed untroubled that Vir did not reply. Plunking his shovel into the dirt, he mused, "I suppose that will have to stand as my final piece of advice to you, young Mr. Cotto. Make of it what you will."

"Final? But we'll see each other again. I can-"

Ugo held up his gnarled hand and Vir fell silent. "I am old and I am tired. And when I look into the mirror these recent mornings, I see the old man of my dream reflected back. I strongly suspect that my death is not far off." Vir broke eye contact, and off of that reaction, Ugo continued: "It's not a tragedy, Vir. I have lived a long and full life- thanks in part to your company."

Blinking back sudden tears, Vir stood and launched himself at Ugo, trapping him in a tight hug. The force and weight behind it was so great, in fact, that Vir nearly sent both of them into a nearby stream. "I'll miss you," he whispered fiercly, trying not to cry.

Ugo stumbled as he sought to restore his center of gravity, then awkwardly returned the embrace. When he finally pulled away, he smiled fondly at Vir. "You are still the same boy who drove me mad saving the lives of all our garden pests." Ugo rested a hand on Vir's chest. "Despite what your uncle might say, this is your greatest strength. Don't ever let anyone or anything change that part of you."

His lower lip quivering a little, Vir hugged Ugo again, tighter than before.

It was indeed the last time they ever spoke.

My Favorite Time of Day

2005-08-02T20:46:53Z

What is your favorite time of day? Why?

This is somewhat difficult to decide. I’m really not sure I have just one answer.

On the one hand, there is something to be said for the evening, when all our daily obligations have been settled. In the evening, I sometimes accompany Londo to the Humans' cocktail hour. I don’t usually drink, but the conversation is good- and watching Londo smile and laugh is even better. He’s always much happier when he has the chance to entertain a crowd.

In the evening, cocktail hour or not, Londo and I almost always share supper together. Most of the time, I prepare it myself, which I find a pleasant, distracting challenge. Then, depending on who might be visiting the station on a particular night, we may take in a show, which usually leads to a discussion, which usually leads to Londo teasing me, which I don’t mind at all. In fact, I miss all of that when he’s away.

In the evening, I always bathe. Londo’s hand is in this too. He was the one who negotiated with the other diplomatic delegations to buy their unused water rations. He’s also given me oils and soaps and other things as gifts. For my first few years on the station, I lived without a bath, and I survived, certainly. But I would be lying if I said I didn’t fully enjoy the opportunity now. Back home, of course, I could stay in the bath for far longer, replenishing when the water grew cold. Still, even here, I stay until my fingers wrinkle and the bubbles disappear. I like closing my eyes and just breathing in the scent of the soap and the oil and the steam, letting all my muscles loosen after a long day.

In the evening, after washing, I wiggle into my nightclothes and curl up under my sheets, which is always a wonderful sensation when I’m tired. Sometimes, for a little while, I lie awake reading, though if I do go to bed with a book, I almost always fall asleep mid-sentence, the book still on my chest.

At least, that’s how my evenings go on normal, relatively quiet days. On normal days, perhaps I do like the evenings the most.

Lately, though, I’m afraid normal days have become not quite so normal. Lately, I’ve started to appreciate the morning.

I usually rise between 05:00 and 06:00 Standard, which is a little earlier than needed most days, but gives me time for a sort of personal ritual that I’ve made a daily habit since the war. Every morning, after I’ve dressed for the day, I go for a walk. I visit the gardens and sit for a time, listening to the cycling of the hydroponics systems, the whir of the passing central transport tube- all the sounds of the station waking up. Sometimes, if I’m lucky, I see a crop of flowers bloom, or smell a newly ripe crop of fruit. Maybe it seems strange to some of you, but all of this helps to remind me that we are still here- that life goes on and that a lot of it is amazing and good.

Then, after the gardens, I go to the Sanctuary alone to look for our star. Looking for home reminds me why I’m here and who I serve. But seeing our star as one among many also reminds me that we are not alone in the universe. That all of us came from the stars. That there are mysteries and dangers out there that are better faced when we have allies. That we rise and fall together and that together, we are strong.

Finally, from an observation port, I watch the sunrise on Epsilon 3. Sunrise in space is starker, but still beautiful in its way. It still helps me to remember that every day begins in hope and promise. And when things are especially bad, that hope can make a lot of difference. When things are difficult, morning means new beginnings, new chances, new opportunities to make things right.

When there is trouble, I think I like mornings the most.

Cranberries?

2005-07-27T02:41:29Z

If You Ruled the Land . . . by wackyweasel

Your first name:

How you gained your rule:

Your title is:

Your Godliness

Your symbol is:

the snake, because you can wear it like a feather boa

You rule from:

an ice palace - cold, but so, well, cool!

At your side is:

your hot Captain of the Guard

Your enforcers, troops, and guards are all:

ex-dancers who can still shake it at parties

Your most popular law is:

"National Pajamas Day"

Your least popular law is:

Irony banned

Your worst enemy is:

cranberries - ewww

Your popularity rating is:: 48%

Your chance of being overthrown is:: 44%

Quiz created with MemeGen!

Pajamas can be nice, depending. But a whole day devoted to them? Maybe this oracle is very fond of sleeping. I mean, it appears to enjoy weekends too.

I can't really object to the dancers- but I would never pretend at godhood. Great Maker.

I'm posting this question from Roger because there seems to be a rule.

2005-07-22T04:50:54Z

If you woke up and I was in bed with you, what would be your first thought?
Post your reply, then post this in your LJ and find out what my answer would
be.

Cookie-Baking Soccer Centauri (locked to rogersmith_bigo)

2005-07-03T02:45:49Z

Chocolate chip cookies- that seems like a good place to start. The recipe is simple, and the result is something many Humans enjoy. At least, that's been Vir's experience.

The ingredients arranged, Vir waits for Roger to arrive.

From Roger:

2005-07-01T03:24:07Z

Please leave a one-word comment that you think best describes me. It can only be one word.

No more.

Then copy & paste this in your journal so that I may leave a word about you.

TM Catch-Up: Loneliness

2005-06-30T04:05:50Z

When in your life did you feel the most alone?

Historian’s Note: The following is an entry found in The Chronicles of Vir Cotto. Commentary regarding other accounts of the events mentioned by Cotto I below- including the equally personal account written by Mollari II- can be found in Appendix A.

“Tell me again how you saved the world.”

Many times in the past several years, Luc Deradi, former ward of House Mollari and now a ward of my own house, has demanded the story of the Legions of Fire from me- and I have told him, to the best of my ability, all that I believe a boy of his age should know. As you might expect, as time has gone by and Luc has gotten older, his questions have changed- and along with them, the story itself.

I don’t think I’ve ever been truly aware of how close to manhood Luc is now until he asked me tonight: “Were you ever lonely?”

“Yes,” I finally said quietly after a long moment of thought. Then I sighed. “I will tell you the truth, Luc- I never wanted to be a hero. And if the Great Maker spares you from that sort of destiny, no one will be happier than me. In my life, I’ve been lonely many times- but I was never lonelier than I was in those years before the defeat of the Drakh.”

Sitting here now, I still remember an empty corridor in the dungeons of the palace.

I did not yet know what exactly Londo had sacrificed for all of us. I didn’t know the true shape of things. All I really had to go on were the whispers of wizards who warned that an evil was taking root in the Centauri Republic and that the man I counted as my dearest friend was at the center of it all somehow. They told me to go to Londo, arming me only with alcohol and a mysterious name- and I went because I believed then that I had very little left to lose.

Londo imprisoned me for one night. I was unconscious for all but the final few hours, but those few hours were enough to make an impression. “Maybe you remember, or maybe you were too young,” I told Luc, “but a short time after my coronation, I arranged for our dungeons to be cleaned and cleared of vermin and for the manacles to be removed. I wrote the order for humanitarian reasons for the most part, but… but I have to admit, my memory of the smell did put the issue into sharper focus.”

“And your time in that cell… that was when you felt the loneliest?” Luc asked, patiently steering his rambling emperor back on track.

“I was confused. I was scared. But I didn’t feel truly lonely until Londo came to release me and told me to keep my distance. I don’t think he ever truly believed that I would honor that request, but… but he still wanted to protect me. He told me to return to Babylon 5 and keep my head out of the line of fire. I told him I couldn’t do that. And then… and then Londo left me alone.”

And, my head still aching from the force of Londo’s blow the night before, I stepped into the corridor more terrified of my future- more uncertain that I would ever know Londo as a friend again- than I had ever been before.

“I felt lonely during my youth,” I said. “I often felt lonely during the worst days of the Great War. I felt lonely days before, when I learned that…” In my hesitation, I felt a familiar ache in the center of my chest. “When I learned that the woman I believed to be my beloved had been betraying me all along. Loneliness had never been a stranger to me, but… but my loneliness had never been more complete than it was in that empty hall, Luc, as I walked out to meet the strange and twisted destiny that awaited me. Because this time, I feared Londo, my best friend, couldn’t come with me. Because I feared we would not be able to face this great evil together, as we had faced evil before. Because I feared Londo would truly become my enemy at last.”

“But you were wrong,” Luc pointed out, and I smiled sadly.

“You’re right. And that’s the hope in this story. That was the hope in Londo Mollari. And even with everything he did… we should never forget that there was that fragile hope in the end.”

Londo was, in some ways, a lot stronger than many gave him credit for.

TM Catch-Up: Heart's Desire/Trading Lives

2005-06-20T03:27:27Z

Note: The point of view I’ve chosen to take for this ficlet is somewhat… different. You’ll see what I mean. ;)

Additionally, this ficlet stands as a joint answer to the following two questions:

If you could trade lives with one person for a day, who would it be, and what would you do?

and

Think about something you once wanted so badly but never acquired. Write about how you think your life would’ve been different if you had received what your heart desired.

Transference

I am an anthropologist- an historian. I wrote my doctoral dissertation on the Narn followers of the prophet G’Kar. I have spent the better part of the past ten years studying the Narn and Centauri both. They are tied together, these civilizations. I discovered very early on that one could not study one without being led to the other. The existing records on the personal life of the Centauri emperor who reigned immediately before the Restoration even point to a possible sexual relationship with the Narn’s greatest prophet- but I learned quickly never to mention such possibilities aloud in the field.

You have asked me, Nathan, to describe my most moving experience in the past decade. I will tell you of a Centauri girl I met very early in my career- a member of a sect which reveres Cotto I, the first emperor of the Restoration, as a god of love.

One night, as I sat gazing at the stars on the banks of the Edro River, I asked the young Liliana, who had always been patient with my naiveté and endless questions, to explain to me why the Centauri had two deities in their pantheon who represented the concept of love. Liliana smiled, leaned back amidst the river reeds, and said:

“There is a legend among our people that may help you to understand.”

As Liliana’s people tell it, two thousand years ago, when the god Vir Cotto lived in flesh and blood, he discovered that Emperor Mollari, his mentor and the calling of his heart, had been possessed by a demon. On the night of his discovery, as he wept for the soul of his greatest friend, he was visited by the goddess Alur.

Cotto, who was uncertain in his belief- and even more uncertain that he was deserving- sank to the floor in confusion and awe. And Alur told him that the gods had seen his suffering and had grieved for it- but had also rejoiced, for it was clear that Cotto was profoundly brave and profoundly kind.

On that night, the goddess Alur offered Cotto his heart’s desire. “Whatever you ask, we shall grant, for we have seen the true nature of your soul and know that it is good.”

Cotto wiped his eyes, bowed his head, and said: “There is only one thing I truly desire. I wish to swallow my friend’s demon into myself and leave him to his freedom.”

“What you ask,” Alur replied, “is an honorable sacrifice, but it is one we cannot give for more than the time between sunrises. His future and yours have been written in the stars and cannot be altered. But if this is truly your desire, go to your friend after the morning meal and grant him his freedom for the one day we can provide.”

The following morning, Cotto came to the palace and asked for an audience with the emperor. Seized with terror of the demon’s retribution, Mollari refused Cotto entry that morning and the following four mornings thereafter. But Cotto did not relent, and in time, the strength of his devotion was rewarded.

When he entered the throne room on the sixth morning, Cotto looked upon his friend and almost cried in despair for his new knowledge. But holding firmly to his purpose, he approached Mollari until he could touch the brocade of his ceremonial white.

“Your burdens are grave,” Cotto said, “and I cannot carry them for you. But I can grant you a reprieve for a time, however brief. Use it, my dear friend.”

Cotto touched his forehead to Mollari’s, and in a flash of brilliant light, he felt himself change. He felt the ache of his friend’s joints and the heaviness of his chest. He felt the cruel presence of the demon. And at once, he felt pain, for the imprisoned Mollari had escaped and the demon was wroth. Mollari stared at him in horror through Cotto’s own eyes and begged him to reconsider.

“The gods will carry me as I have pledged to carry you for the remainder of my days,” Cotto gasped. “Go now and be free.”

“And until the next sunrise,” Liliana finished that night among the reeds, “Cotto bore his friend’s burden through a transference of souls- and the gods themselves guarded the lives of both, holding the demon at bay.” Then she sat up and looked me in the eye. “There are many different kinds of love, Dr. Wallace. One day, I should also tell you the story of the eye of Li.”

I had many questions then. I wondered, for instance, why, if this legend carried with it the hint of truth, Mollari did not take such an opportunity to strike at the Drakh and end the terrible Dark Age. But something in Liliana’s eyes stilled my tongue.

As scholars, Nathan, we have a duty to the truth of things. But we must never forget the power of legends to inspire. Two years later, I learned that Liliana had died in a shuttle accident- that she had offered her seat in a lifepod to someone else.

This personality oracle isn't very polite.

2005-05-10T01:30:06Z

Emo Kid
You are 14% Rational, 14% Extroverted, 14% Brutal, and 0% Arrogant.

You are the Emo Kid, best described as a quiet pussy! You tend to be an intuitive rather than a logical thinker, meaning you rely more on your feelings than your thoughts. Not only that, but you are introverted, gentle, and rather humble. You embody all the traits of the perfect emo kid. You are a push-over, emotional, gentle to the extent of absurdity, and so humble that it even makes Jesus puke. If you write poetry, you no doubt write angsty, syrupy lines about depression, sadness, and other such redundant states of emo-being. Your personality is defective because you are too gentle, rather underconfident in yourself, decidely lacking in any rational thought, and also a bit too inhibited.

I probably made you cry, didn't I? Fucking Emo Kid.

To put it less negatively:

1. You are more INTUITIVE than rational.

2. You are more INTROVERTED than extroverted.

3. You are more GENTLE than brutal.

4. You are more HUMBLE than arrogant.

Compatibility:

Your exact opposite is the Smartass.

Other personalities you would probably get along with are the Hippie, the Televangelist, and the Starving Artist.

If you scored near fifty percent for a certain trait (42%-58%), you could very well go either way. For example, someone with 42% Extroversion is slightly leaning towards being an introvert, but is close enough to being an extrovert to be classified that way as well. Below is a list of the other personality types so that you can determine which other possible categories you may fill if you scored near fifty percent for certain traits.

The other personality types:

The Emo Kid: Intuitive, Introverted, Gentle, Humble.

The Starving Artist: Intuitive, Introverted, Gentle, Arrogant.

The Bitch-Slap: Intuitive, Introverted, Brutal, Humble.

The Brute: Intuitive, Introverted, Brutal, Arrogant.

The Hippie: Intuitive, Extroverted, Gentle, Humble.

The Televangelist: Intuitive, Extroverted, Gentle, Arrogant.

The Schoolyard Bully: Intuitive, Extroverted, Brutal, Humble.

The Class Clown: Intuitive, Extroverted, Brutal, Arrogant.

The Robot: Rational, Introverted, Gentle, Humble.

The Haughty Intellectual: Rational, Introverted, Gentle, Arrogant.

The Spiteful Loner: Rational, Introverted, Brutal, Humble.

The Sociopath: Rational, Introverted, Brutal, Arrogant.

The Hand-Raiser: Rational, Extroverted, Gentle, Humble.

The Braggart: Rational, Extroverted, Gentle, Arrogant.

The Capitalist Pig: Rational, Extroverted, Brutal, Humble.

The Smartass: Rational, Extroverted, Brutal, Arrogant.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 3% on Rationality

You scored higher than 11% on Extroversion

You scored higher than 3% on Brutality

You scored higher than 0% on Arrogance

Link: The Personality Defect Test written by saint_gasoline on OkCupid Free Online Dating

A broken heart is something you survive.

2005-05-07T20:03:28Z

CURRENT TOPIC: Which are you more afraid of: Being too gullible and believing things that aren't true, or being too skeptical and missing out on something important?

Historian’s Note: This letter, found in Emperor Cotto I’s personal archives, was written to an adolescent in his court in 2285 and typifies the monarch’s fondness and concern for the youth of the Centauri Republic.

Dear Luc-

I’m afraid I have a confession to make- your emperor likes to daydream alone in the imperial gardens. Normally, I suppose that isn’t really a problem- unless you are Risak and are bound by your position to worry. But last night, I accidentally overheard a meeting in the gardens between you and the lovely young lady Valeria and I was struck with an uncomfortable feeling of what the Humans call déjà vu.

When I was your age, I tried the same serenade with a young lady of my acquaintance and was laughed from the room, perhaps because, while my emotion was sincere, my vocal quality was less than impressive. You, my friend, sang the aria with far greater skill than I ever did, and I am truly, deeply sorry the young lady of your desire did not return the sentiment. If you want some company- a sympathetic ear- know that I won’t ever let my office prevent me from providing it.

In the meantime, I hope you will listen to your foolish monarch’s advice: Don’t ever stop being a starry-eyed romantic, regardless of what tradition might demand and regardless of what others might say. Believe in your friends and lovers. Don’t be afraid of disappointment.

I can’t tell you that keeping to this will be easy. In my own life, I’ve been hurt many times because I left myself open to it. But a broken heart, Luc, is something you can survive, no matter the sadness, anger or shame that may come with it. You will be changed by this grief- and you may not like all of what you become. But the rewards for allowing yourself to believe can sometimes be the greatest of all.

My own regrets could fill the sky, Luc. But choosing to love- seemingly, to others, against all reason- is not among them. An open heart can be your greatest asset and your dearest treasure. Do not leave it behind.

Fondly yours,
Vir

Trust (first in the "Letters to Adira" series)

2005-05-01T17:20:05Z

Historian's Note: Continuing the correspondence with Lady Adira which began here, this letter was written by Vir Cotto in 2258 after the dockers strike and before Mr. Morden's arrival on Babylon 5.

Lady Adira-

I've never been so complimented in all my life. I'm not sure I will ever be comfortable with such noble titles. Even representing the ambassador can sometimes feel a little frightening. No one calls me "boy" here- not even Ambassador G'Kar- and sometimes I think I'm just pretending to be someone I'm not. But thank you. Thank you for your letter and for your gift. I promise I will care for it to the best of my ability. After keeping a G'Quan Eth, I suppose I can keep any plant alive in my quarters if I put my mind to it.

It's very fragile and picky, the G'Quan Eth, but also very interesting and beautiful in its way. I haven't told Londo this, but while it was in my quarters, I read a little of the Book of G'Quan. I was curious about the flower's significance, you see, and I had also worked very hard on my Narn to help in the negotiations and wanted to practice. I have to admit, though, that I had a lot of difficulty with the ancient constructions. Did you know there are no official translations of the Book of G'Quan anywhere in any other language? I looked everywhere. Still, I managed to work out that the followers of G'Quan use the G'Quan Eth in a ceremony of gratitude- the most important ceremony of their faith, in fact. The ambassador had suggested as much, but I never realized just how meaningful the G'Quan Eth was until I had finished my own translation. That's why G'Kar was so upset. If I had been quicker, well, I suppose I might've tried even harder to convince the ambassador to give it to him. I did ask him why it mattered to him so much, keeping the G'Quan Eth even though he might've been able to get another one through certain connections, but, well. Pride, I think, can be a very powerful thing. And both ambassadors are very proud men.

The ambassador has been saying good things about me? Really? I've been so afraid these past months, especially after my horrible first days. I don't know if he's ever told you this, but I was so nervous and so clumsy when we first met that, eventually, he got incredibly cross at my fumbling and kicked me out of his quarters. I was absolutely sure I was going to be sent home on the next transport to Centauri Prime, but, for some reason, he never did get rid of me. In fact, the next morning, he showed up in my quarters demanding an explanation for why I hadn't reported to work, and when I told him I thought I'd been fired, he lost his temper again. I think he managed to curse just about every god in the pantheon that morning. Then, something very strange happened- he softened. Taking my chin in his hand, he forced me to look him in the eye and he said, "Great Maker, Vir, there are far more terrifying things in this universe than the spectacle of an old man shouting at you." Then he asked for breakfast and told me not to give the day before another thought. I didn't know quite what to make of that, or of him. I still don't. Some days it seems like he's annoyed at the very sight of me. And others...

Before I was sent here, I'd never been trusted with anything as important as a diplomatic negotiation. But the ambassador has now left such important matters to me several times. I don't even know if he really means it when he tells me that I am skilled and knowledgeable enough to handle the task. He seems to mean it, but we are still not used to each other and I could be misinterpreting. Still, the fact that he is trusting me at all... it's a strange and terrifying and gratifying feeling. The truth is, I haven't been sleeping much these past few days. I've been working so hard on my research and preparations that sometimes I forget to eat. I want to live up to the trust the ambassador's placed in me. I don't want to let him down. I've let too many people down before.

Again, I hope this letter finds you well. And I hope the ambassador is continuing to enjoy himself.

Sincerely,
Vir Cotto

PS: You should be receiving a small package with this letter. I just wouldn't feel right accepting a gift without sending one in return. So I went to the Zocalo and bought some Human oddities. One is something called a video game. They make them for their children, but, to be honest, I've grown a little addicted to the one I bought for myself. And the other item is a crystal containing a complete collection of Daffy Duck cartoons. That one was Mr. Garibaldi's suggestion- he says Daffy Duck is his second favorite thing in the universe. The Humans are wonderful and friendly, but sometimes very strange.

An oracle from Roger:

2005-04-29T05:30:39Z

PURITY: 65% sex, 75% substance, 87% moral [73% total]

Well done! The higher your scores, the more "pure" you are. The lower, the more you've experienced.

This test was about done deeds, so your numbers will never climb. [It's interesting to think they all started at 100%.] But will your purity continue to fall? Will you OUTGROW or will you OUTDO your past experiences? It's up to you.

Advisory:

Don't date anyone if your moral purities differ by more than 30%.
Don't run a business with anyone if your substance purities differ by more than 40%.
Do be friends with someone who has less than 1/2 your sex purity. You'll enjoy their colorful company.

Note: as for the "TOTAL" purity value - that's a weighted combination of your scores, indicating what a typical purity test might say about you.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 72% on substance

You scored higher than 82% on sex

You scored higher than 89% on moral

You scored higher than 85% on TOTAL

Link: The 3-Variable Purity Test written by chriscoyne on OkCupid Free Online Dating

Sindakar, Part Four: A Less Than Peaceful Slumber (locked to living_god)

2005-04-27T02:15:19Z

Vir has not yet told Londo about the flicker of fear- the brief burst of anxiety he feels before he closes his eyes at night- though Karen knows he feels it and knows why. While his days in Sindakar have been pleasant- even more so with the arrival of Timov and the children- his nights have often been something else entirely. Healing has not yet come in sleep. And, worst of all, the phantoms are unpredictable.

Timidity

2005-04-23T07:52:31Z

What is your worst character flaw?

I've never been a very confident person. The past few years have changed me in many ways. I think that I'm stronger now than I ever was before. But Londo still has to remind me, sometimes, not to apologize for being who I am- for believing what I believe, or feeling what I feel. Sometimes, I still retreat. I still, sometimes, allow people to bully me. I still let other people decide what I should think about myself.

But maybe it means something that I haven't sent a letter home since the end of the war.