barrayarmods: (Default)
For Barrayar mods ([personal profile] barrayarmods) wrote in [community profile] forbarrayar2017-02-02 08:00 pm

[ february i log ]

Who: Everyone
What: New arrivals, desperate times, whispers down the hall.
When: February 1st - 18th
Where: Barrayaran camp / Cetagandan base
Warnings: TBD


Quick links:
Barrayar: Barrayaran camp / Missions
Cetaganda: Cetagandan base / Missions



welcome to barrayar.
It's the dark of night when you come to in the foothills. Snow on the ground, chill winter wind whistling -- in fact, it's dangerously cold, and all you have is the clothes on your back.. A steep mountain range towers just ahead, its peaks illuminated by the light of two moons. Whatever you last remember, it isn't how you got here, and you feel oddly jetlagged, slightly queasy.

And you're not alone. There are a few other people close by, all looking equally lost and confused. But before any of you have a chance to figure out what's going on, the soldiers arrive.
There's a war on, they say, and you unlucky bastards have just been dropped right smack in the middle of it.

barrayar
The cold snap hits the guerrilla camp hard, especially with a handful of new people to care for. On the 1st, a few people from Riverfall Village come to the camp, Village Speaker Yakiv Gura among them, who seems to have a rapport with Piotr. They bring extra supplies with them, such as clothing, heavy wool blankets and bedrolls, as well as extra firewood to help fend off the cold. The new outsiders are accommodated the best they can -- they're all provided bedrolls and any extra clothing they (probably) need -- but the Barrayarans don't have an extra tent to spare, so that means all twelve outsiders are force to share a tent that ordinarily sleeps ten. On the plus side, it should provide some warmth. The cold is

A young boy comes in tow of the villagers; Speaker Gura tells Piotr that the boy turned up a week ago and insisted on helping them with the supply haul, despite his small size. He's clearly Barrayaran, and looks as though he might have been living on hisown for a while. He doesn't speak mcuh, and when asked his name, will only give it as Negri -- first or last, no one's sure, but the boy doesn't seem easily fazed. Piotr tells the villagers he has no room in his camp for lost children, but somehow the day after the villagers leave, Negri turns up in camp again. He's curious, but quiet and unobtrusive, wherever he is in camp. He's a very good listener…even when you might not want him to be.



On the 3rd, the Barrayarans and outsiders awake to discover that the part of the cave where they've kept the majority of their food supply has collapsed, either blocking their access to the cache or destroying it entirely. It's impossible to tell. The villagers can't spare much more than they already have been -- certainly not enough to feed the hundred and fifty-odd soldiers in the camp -- so while they try to find out a way to recoup their food supply, they have no choice but to slaughter their own horses for food. Food will be heavily rationed, but fairly -- the outsiders receive no less than the rest. The prisoners, on the other hand, get nothing. There probably isn't enough wild game in the area to sustain the camp, but Piotr sends out hunting parties, and when they get wind of a Cetagandan supply drop on its way, they organize a raid on the supply lines.

camp
With temperatures well below freezing, no food, and excruciatingly little in the way of advantage against the Cetagandans after their last infiltration attempt, morale is beginning to drop. Piotr and Olivia remain bastions of perseverance as always, but Sonia is beginning to buckle and wilt as the days go on. The soldiers do their best to entertain themselves and keep morale up, but all they've got are maple mead, and old card and dice games. They could use some new forms of entertainment. Maybe a snowball fight might get the blood moving -- assuming you can stand the wind chill. Thankfully, there's no shortage of warm clothes and wool scarves.

The cave isn't big enough to simply move all of camp inside, but the sickbay and mess tents are moved where it's a little warmer and out of the harsh wind. It's generally crowded with off-duty soldiers despite the food shortage, because no one wants to be out in the cold right now. Things get a little better after the mostly successful raids, but food is still heavily rationed.



missions
The hunting parties are only moderately successful; there isn't much wild game out there right now, and while the soldiers fare alright, the outsiders' hunting party fails miserably. The raiding parties yield a little more in the way of relief, enough now that they don't have to keep eating horse meat, but Pearl was captured by enemy forces in the chaos.

Maine helps Piotr with a very successful final interrogation of ghem-Miko, the Cetagandan scientist taken prisoner last month. He reveals that the Cetagandans have been studying the locations where exotics appeared, as it seems to be linked to wormhole technology, and that the Cetagandans are planning on building a device to control it. They have the technology, they're almost sure, but it's a puzzle they haven't solved yet. Ghem-Miko doesn't live long past his interrogation -- public execution by decapitation is his sentence, and when it's done, a few soldiers carry off his body and severed head.

Piotr's interrogation of Duv Galeni goes about as well but, blessedly, less fatally. It becomes known that Duv is from Komarr, the planet that sold Barrayar out to the Cetagandans, and that Duv Galeni is really David Galen, a relative of a few Counselors in the head of Komarran government. However, he's able to successfully convince Piotr that he isn't allied with the Cetagandans, and after a few days of agony, Duv is granted parole at Piotr's discretion.

On the evening of the 15th, Maine, Beth and Byerly inadvertently catch Vorhalas in the act of trying to sabotage what little of their food supply they've been able to recoup. He tries both fight and flight, but the three outsiders are able to take him down and drag him to Piotr's doorstep. It quickly becomes apparent that Vorhalas was responsible for the cave-in earlier in the month. Piotr is both furious and victorious; he now has a lead on the traitor conspiracy among his men, and his esteem of Beth, Maine and Byerly has gone up considerably for their part. Vorhalas is up next in the interrogation chair, and this one won't be pretty.

The unabridged event writeup is here.

cetaganda
The recent supply drop not only provides resources for the base and for distribution to their other outposts, but also brings fresh species for transplant into the gardens at the Grow Labs. The arrival of a handful of new exotics gives rise to a fresh wave of buzzing curiosity around the base. All of the new exotics are given thorough physicals, just as the first wave were, and provided with fatigues and anything else they might need. They make an even dozen now, their bunk at capacity. The Cetagandans are beginning to become accustomed to having the exotics on base, some of them even forward enough with their curiosity to be friendly. Darkstalker now has a small following of ghem lady scientists who regularly feature him as a subject in their art.

New arrivals will be processed as the first were -- once everyone has been whisked out of the extreme cold, everyone is subject to a thorough physical, including a number of scans that may or may not seem totally arcane to you. Other than a blood sample, nothing they're doing is at all invasive. Lady Diya d'Zefyst, while not a physician, is present at all physicals. She is easily notable not only for her striking, almost ethereal beauty as is typical of the haut, but, as the only haut on base, she is easily distinguishable by her lack of facepaint.

While the exotics still have freedom of movement around the base, the recent extreme temperatures have their hosts diplomatically suggesting they travel as much as possible, they are provided cold weather wear, as the mess hall and medbay are in separate buildings from the barracks. Weather warning aside, they encourage the exotics to take advantage of the non-restricted recreational facilities -- exercise rooms, art rooms, the lush gardens in the Grow Labs -- and will satisfy any reasonable curiosities.

base
In an effort to make the exotics feel more at home, the Cetagandans decide to put on the sort of function they might for visiting diplomats, full of art of all sorts, to show that they're just as willing to share their culture with the exotics as they're asking the exotics to share with them. The function is hosted on the evening of the 7th in an annex to the Grow Labs apparently meant for this express purpose, as it shows off the most beautiful and elegant of the Grow Labs' specimens, and acts as a live arboretum in and of itself, and quite vibrantly beautiful.



If there's one thing the Cetagandans are good at (besides art, and language, and genetics) it's throwing a good party. Functions like this are always an opportunity for Cetagandans to try and socially one-up one another; everyone is in their most fashionable dress in the latest fashions they manage to keep off-planet, or at least a dress uniform, wearing fanciful scents and vibrant facepaint they might not otherwise on the job. For the artistically inclined ghem (read: a lot of them), this is the chance to show off their artistic endeavors as well -- large sculptures of unusual and improbable materials, walkable installations meant to engage every sense, and of course the living art engineered by the ghem ladies, ranging from relatively simple and tame pieces such as koi fish patterned with clan insignia or black roses and blue orchids, to complex combinations of non-human DNA to create some genetic sculpture. There is, of course, food and drink -- in the usual flagrant Cetagandan style, although the hors d'oeuvres and drinks are even more ecletic than the usual mess hall fare. It seems as though the Cetagandan passion for genetic art extends even into the culinary realm.

At the center of the party is a particular kind of art installation called a discernment garden. Housed in a beautiful, improbably architectural tent, the discernment garden consists of a series of rooms, each meant to test the refinement of the senses -- not unlike a varietal wine tasting. Each room is dedicated to a single sense, inviting participants to judge a collection of samples and suss out the differences, or match tastes and smells and textures to labels; the end of the garden presents its visitors with a final art piece incorporating all five senses, as a final test of one's refinement. Some of the ghem might (a bit wryly) confess that this is actually more of an education tool used for Cetagandan children, but this is meant as a gesture of good will toward the exotics.



missions
On the evenings of the 6th and the 8th, some of the exotics do a little sneaking around, and not for the first time. York lends Kaidan his access badge to the R&D Lab on the 6th and Kaidan, along with Sans and Symmetra, stumble onto a whole lot of wormhole data and schematics to construct a device capable of controlling the phenomena of the exotics' appearance. On the 8th, Deanna and Natasha sneak around to the tactical buildings and overhear some marital discord between Zahal and Diya, and a troubling glimpse at their diverging plans.

On the evening of the 13th, Jasper, York and Daryl are all in the medbay when a biocontainment breach sends it into automatic lockdown, trapping them inside. They overhear Diya arguing with one of her subordinates over unauthorized use of ba genetic material, whatever that is.

The unabridged event writeup is here.
startpoint: (65)

[personal profile] startpoint 2017-02-06 08:23 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It's hard to hide the look of relief as Tucker stands up and, well, acts like himself. She missed all the reds and blues and having Tucker here in front of her goes a long way toward making her feel more grounded than she's felt in a while. With Maine there she's been torn between the person she was before and the one she's become since meeting all the sim troopers. ]

I don't know how it happened but it's happening regardless. [ And she smiles wryly at him because even she knows a cold tent in the middle of a war is the opposite of welcome. But that expression fades off as she's reminded of another person who's absent. ] ...Just so you know, I don't have Epsilon. Whatever brought us here doesn't include AIs.
traitorous: (SLOWLY.)

[personal profile] traitorous 2017-02-06 09:16 pm (UTC)(link)
[ nothing more than byerly himself saw, he's sure. is that why he approached him? shit, if that's the case, he'd have been better off chatting up the girl. he's gonna be disappointed when he walks off at the end of this conversation with no new information and a lighter bottle of mead.

speaking of the mead. he rolls byerly's flippant prodding off with another shrug, lifting a hand to tug ( surprisingly gently ) at the base of the bottle, fingers brushing just under byerly's hand. then, with a flagrant disregard for byerly's personal space, he leans in and over byerly's legs, spelling one word in the ground with the tip of his index finger.
]

? PLEASE ?

[ plot twist, the bearish brute has manners. ]
truevor: (pic#10925388)

[personal profile] truevor 2017-02-06 09:29 pm (UTC)(link)
Ah.

( Olivia is silent long enough to match his own, eyes sharp. What sort of man Byerly may or may not be is still up for debate, but for her sister she will set her judgement of him aside. )

Then you have my gratitude, for what it is worth. It has been... too long since she has had any friends beyond myself. And even I can only do so much.
Edited 2017-02-06 21:30 (UTC)
eugengineer: (pic#10725608)

[personal profile] eugengineer 2017-02-06 09:39 pm (UTC)(link)
Diya's interested at the program mentioned is clear; she makes no effort at hiding it. The lack of details doesn't surprise her; it's not as though she ever goes about disclosing anything but the vaguest basics about the Star Crèche's operations even among the ghem. But those scant details are quite enough for Diya. The rest...well, they have a blood sample now.

"Ambitious indeed," Diya murmurs, and though her voice is always level bodering on toneless, there is undoubtedly a hint of appreciation in there. If this woman is any indication, they had obviously achieved some measure of success.

At the question, she draws herself up slightly -- she's tall, nearly as tall as the CMO at six feet -- chin raised slightly in a thoroughly hautish look of demure pride. "I am," she confirms, "in fact, the only haut here." She fixes Natasha with an odd look, an angled curiosity. "Few exotics seem to appreciate there is a difference."
lovernotafighter: (Finale and not in the good way)

[personal profile] lovernotafighter 2017-02-06 09:55 pm (UTC)(link)
[I don't have Epsilon.

Well, no one has Epsilon because the douche went and killed himself again--


Fuck. Fuck. Tucker didn't want to tell her, didn't want to let her know the things he knew, didn't fucking want this to be the first thing he said to her. Oh, hey, what a weird world we're in. B-T-Fucking-W, our mutual best friend is dead. So how about this fucking dick-freezing cold, huh? This wasn't right. This wasn't...

This wasn't fair.

Tucker was only good at lying about one thing, and that was more self-delusion than right out lying: his sexual conquests. Everything else? Damn, was he bad at it, probably because the need and frequency rarely came up; shit happened and people should know about it. The end. So as he warred with it over his face for all the world to see, he stopped for a second and looked at her, something vital finally clicking into place. ]


Of course Church isn't with you. [The brown eyes blinked once.] He was with me on the Staff of Charon when -- [he died] -- I was pulled here. [And then, as important, because--]

Wait a fucking minute; if you're here, then the others are here, too, right?! [Not Church. Not that asshole, but the rest of the family. The rest of the Reds and Blues. His expression lit up like the sun for the first time since arriving because good, he needed them, he fucking needed them to be okay--] Where are they?
artsofwar: (pic#10746036)

[personal profile] artsofwar 2017-02-06 10:10 pm (UTC)(link)
"Very good," he says, nodding to both of them before pulling out the vial from the box and filling the syringe with the contents. His face softens behind the face paint as he looks at the woman, but his eyes remain hard.

"You may try to resist, but I would advise against it. We'll start with some easy questions to answer." Here he turns back to the two exotics as he injects the liquid into her arm smoothly. "Normally we would ask some questions we know the answer to, in order to establish that the fast-penta is working as planned." Pulling back, he steps further back in order to give her some space. There's no need to crowd her, after all.

"Its effects are nearly instantaneous -- you should be able to tell when her face relaxes."
littlemissfutility: (42)

Re: execution, obvs

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-02-06 10:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Her shoulders tighten perceptibly when a hand settles on them. When she glances back, it's someone she recognizes only vaguely. An outsider, like her, but one of the new ones. She'd know that much even if they weren't all crammed in a single tent; he's much fairer than the Barrayarans.

Beth shrugs the hand off, kind though the gesture appears. A stranger's comfort isn't much comfort at all; it isn't trustworthy, just something that makes her lonely for people she loves. The look she gives the man is quietly searching, too guarded to be angry.
dendarii: (good point)

[personal profile] dendarii 2017-02-06 10:28 pm (UTC)(link)
There's more than that. I've seen all the flirting you do.
dendarii: (fondness)

[personal profile] dendarii 2017-02-06 10:32 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Nearly, eh. He'll work on Piotr, dammit, if it's the last thing he does. Because it might very well might be.

His grin goes fond and nostalgic at that, thinking of Piotr now, in fact. A man somewhat different from the one giving him grief here ... ]


Just so. My father had no interest and my mother was terrified of the great beasts. But both saw the use in a Vor taking interest in me, so they permitted it. Reluctantly.

[ He holds politely, waiting for her to finish. ]
lovernotafighter: (Father and Son)

[personal profile] lovernotafighter 2017-02-06 10:47 pm (UTC)(link)
So, you're a bunch of lushes? That's what you're saying?

[Nope, didn't kill it, but did quiet it up a little, because dude, seriously? He could tell what this guy was doing. So, he didn't want to talk about what had him up here; okay, but that sure as hell didn't tell Tucker why he was really fighting. Not...exactly. And the whole thing wasn't inspiring him to get on this side either.

But damn right, he would talk about his kid, because he was a proud dad, and it showed when he smiled.]


Shit it's been awhile since I've seen him because of the whole war thing. I think Junior's about six and a half, maybe seven feet tall now? His basketball team made championships this year, but he keeps getting fouled for eating the ball. Can you fucking believe that shit? Like they've never seen a kid with mandibles before, shit.
vorrutyer: (Backpfeifengesicht 2)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-06 10:55 pm (UTC)(link)
What of it?
natalia_vdova: (fight like a girl)

[personal profile] natalia_vdova 2017-02-06 10:58 pm (UTC)(link)
[Natasha isn't at her best either, but that's because for her her best involves being perfect, better than human. But she still has seventy years of fighting, and mastery of a half-dozen different styles, from Sambo to Kali and Spetsnaz. She hates not having a weapon, hates that she lost hers when she came here and they wont give her a new one.

But she doesn't need one. And there's something about the feeling of fists and skin.

If this was just about stopping the woman's escape, she'd yell for a guard, or her first move would be a takedown, trying to get her legs around her throat, pin her. But this isn't really about stopping her so much as it is the fight, a real fight and not sparring in the gym.]


My fight isn't with anyone here. But I'm not going to let you go.

[There's a thin sort of almost-smile, something dark and she slides into an easy stance. Normally, she'd wait, make the woman make the first move, use it to gauge her; turn it aside and then react. But she just doesn't have the patience right now, and Clint isn't in a comm in her ear telling her to focus.

So she moves in, fast and sudden, light on her feet, a punch aimed at her face. But it's a lure, trying to get her to use her scarf to block it, giving Nat the ability to control the angle of her hands for just long enough to create an opening, if she can play it right. She's mapping out the options in her head, movements and responses as she reads her body.

If there's one thing that Natasha is good at, it's either this or dancing, and the difference isn't always clear.]
dendarii: (solpadeine114)

[personal profile] dendarii 2017-02-06 11:02 pm (UTC)(link)
That seems a little self-interested.
vorrutyer: (actually maybe unsmug)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-06 11:16 pm (UTC)(link)
Hm? Oh - oh, no.

[ He laughs, the sound a little odd in its definition and crispness. ]

No, no. Quite the opposite. Sex is the tool, not the goal.
dendarii: (cunning plan)

[personal profile] dendarii 2017-02-06 11:17 pm (UTC)(link)
Hmm? To what end, then? More manipulation?
vorrutyer: (shaaaahhhhts)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-06 11:45 pm (UTC)(link)
Of course. What else?
vorrutyer: (hmmmmm not bad)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-06 11:58 pm (UTC)(link)
Hm. It does seem a pity, that it is that way - and her such a marvelously charming girl. The common soldiers fear your husband's wrath? Or is there simply that much social distance between prole and Vor out in this District? [ A beat, as By watches her from the corner of his eye. ] Or does her galactic experience make them skittish?
vorrutyer: (intense (but smug))

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-07 12:10 am (UTC)(link)
[ Hm. The effect of that face, that musculature, that close, is...intoxicating. The man is really terribly attractive, and Byerly is in the miserable position of not having gotten laid in over a month now. He's rather startled at just how frustrating that is - he doesn't think of himself as someone who needs sex - but this is his longest dry spell in years. A bit of playfulness, surely, won't hurt. Surely. It'll probably go right over his beautiful head. These soldierly types are so unsubtle. ]

Ah, such pretty manners.

[ He sweeps his lashes (absurdly long and beautiful) down over his dark eyes. He doesn't release his hold on the bottle, but tugs back at it playfully. ]

But you with no information to offer...I ought to demand some other prize for my generosity.
dendarii: (solpadeine106)

IT'S ALL GOOD

[personal profile] dendarii 2017-02-07 12:17 am (UTC)(link)
And then there's this guy. Miles has only briefly seen Tucker around camp up until now; he'd assumed someone a little more ... well, serious. Just by looking at him. Clearly he should have stuck around for five minutes and waited for the guy to open his mouth.


"I don't think they'll have chocolate," Miles says, still keeping an eye on the approaching supply train. "What the hell is a s'more, anyway?"
protocol: (► my boyfriend and i discovered the code)

CETAGANDA: WASHINGTON | OTA, tag me how you like, i'll match format! <3

[personal profile] protocol 2017-02-07 12:24 am (UTC)(link)
PARTY TIME | SOMETIMES I DOUBT WASH'S COMMITMENT TO SPARKLE MOTION;
[ This . . . Could be worse.

Wash has spent the past two decades or so of his life in combat armor, undersuits and military fatigues. The Cetagandan uniforms have always been strange to him, but easy and familiar enough, but this is, well. Different.

The robes aren't uncomfortable, but the way they move and shift around him with every step is unfamiliar -- he honestly doesn't mind the clothing, mind even like it in some way, especially when the ghem women who dressed him actually managed to take his mind his awkward, stilted answers to their questions ( I, ah, my armor was grey with yellow trimming? ) to the final product. It's softer and far more delicate than he's used to, but he can appreciate the effort they put into it, and the facepaint, well. It's not something he'd have chosen to wear if he'd known what it would look like. He'd questioned the glitter when it was brought to him, but they assured him it would be subtle, and it's, well. He'd been cooperative enough, but the glitter could really have been a lot more subtle, as far as he's concerned.

Actually walking in the party puts him a little more at ease, just because everyone here is dressed as outlandishly -- or outlandish for him, he supposes, normal for them, everyone in even more intricate and bolder facepaint than he's become used to seeing around the base, every person who walks past him wafting a different scent in their wake. He's still incredibly conscious of how the paint feels on his face, but he does his best to ignore it, and though the party is clearly a party, he manages to distinctly avoid much talking to people. He even avoids drinking.

Instead, you could probably find him peering warily but very notably not trying the little hors d'oeuvres that the Cetagandans have set out, maybe looking at the drinks but certainly not tasting. He'll spend most of his time wandering around the various art installations, peering at intricate sculptures and the discernment garden, trying to at least vaguely understand what he's looking at according what little he's managed to learn about Cetagandan art.

They're an interesting people, the Cetagandans. This is barely recognizable as a military base, and he it'd be easy to forget that outside everything is better cold, and there's a war being waged. A military base in a battlefield of a contested planet, and he's here, looking at art, and. With sparkly cheeks.

He'll talk to you if you talk to him. Don't judge him too harshly, okay, he protested the glitter. ]
TRAINING | SOMETIMES I THINK WASH IS TOO COMMITTED TO BEING A HARDASS;
[ Aside from the first week or so of his arrival when he'd mostly stuck to the common area of the barracks and he'd been busy just trying to get used to the place and settle in, Wash spends at least a few hours every day in one of the exercise and training rooms they have in the base.

He has a routine, one he varies and changes here and there to keep himself challenged, but the overall structure is always the same. He wakes up at the same ungodly hour in the morning every morning ( unless he didn't sleep in the first place, which still happens more often than it should ), runs some laps, and after already working up a good sweat he heads straight to the training rooms. Right after his runs he a warmup followed by a dive into his exercises for the day. Push-ups, pull-ups, weighted pistol squats, all sorts of bodyweight exercises, and after a rest he'll be straight into combative training, practicing strikes and kicks and punches.

Wash is more than approachable enough when he's working out, he's probably at his friendliest, here, even lightly making conversation to anyone else who might be in the room, offering to spot for anyone who might need it, asking after a spar with anyone else who's clearly here for combat-oriented training. He'll even talk to you when he's in the middle of holding an l-sit or something. To anyone of a more military stature, the discipline with which he approaches his training his probably familiar and recognizable -- not to mention the relief he clearly gets from it.

It's something familiar that he can still do, here. Something to focus on, while he's grappling with everything else. ]
WILDCARD;
[ ooc: feel free to hit me up via PM, valonqar#1408 on disc or [plurk.com profile] dragonpunch if you'd like to talk or want me to write up a specific starter! ]
omniavincit: (a savor of blood)

[personal profile] omniavincit 2017-02-07 12:28 am (UTC)(link)
William, at least, blinks. But his eyes stay on the boy and his tone doesn't change. "What do you see?"
pigsfeet: (staring contest)

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2017-02-07 12:47 am (UTC)(link)
[At first, he thinks it's more curling branches of her native tongue. Only at the end, just as the picture is about to fade, does he realize it's some illustration. Snakes curled in on itself? He doesn't know. The shape is enough to stick in his memory, and he studies the after-image as it disappears.]

[It's clearly a mark, a symbol of some kind. He nods, taking the order without thinking. Daryl chafes under the weight of authority usually, but this is a special case. Requests from dying women are to be followed without hesitation.]


where is it
symmetricks: (pic#11019141)

[personal profile] symmetricks 2017-02-07 12:48 am (UTC)(link)
They aren't poisoned, you're aware.

[ While Wash is looking over the refreshments that have left for them to peruse and try at their discretion, Symmetra's approached from behind. By accident, purely. It wasn't her intent to start conversation -- she's not terribly fond of socializing by and large -- but the suspicion in his eyes is worth remarking upon.

It pins him as one of them. The 'exotics', as they've been so handily named. She's not overly fond of the term, but it's more polite than 'refugees', isn't it?

Symmetra herself looks quite comfortable in the alien designs that have been hung upon her person with care. As foreign as they might seem to her sensibilities, it's obvious their individual designs have been crafted with care, no detail left to random chance. Likely as not, one could examine an outfit like Washington's and determine a great deal.

She may or may not have been silently playing that very game in her head, throughout the evening, and even now seems to be silently sizing him up. ]
pigsfeet: (im ambivalent on u (no homo))

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2017-02-07 12:53 am (UTC)(link)
Daryl helps him up without much hesitation or difficulty. Daryl's a sturdy arm to lean on at the best of times. Even in the face of hangovers, he's no slouch. He nods, trying to nudge Kaidan toward an open bed. "What kinda meds?"
vorrutyer: (hung over 1)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-07 12:56 am (UTC)(link)
Uncle Yuri. Uncle Yuri. It's strange to think of him as having opinions, truly. Well - no, that's not entirely true. History has well recorded the man's opinions, which have mostly tended towards kill, kill, kill. But Mad Yuri, having human thoughts - having opinions that any stuffy Vor might have...It's strange. It's - It makes his skin crawl, honestly, to think of how before too long, Yuri's thoughts will have turned to murdering those children of hers. When, By wonders, does he make the turn from humanity to madness? When does he become a monster instead of a man? When does he start hurting more than just Sonia's feelings...?

He realizes that the expression on his face has gone taut. He tries to force it to relax.

"Those old Vor imbeciles," he says, trying to sound good-humored. "I truly must apologize for my class and gender, for how many of them think that a woman's use is between her legs. Some of us know that there's much worthwhile in your head, too. Cold comfort though that is."