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.
protocol: (► we want a different kind of excitement)

no worries at all, and i apologize for his awkwardness.

[personal profile] protocol 2017-02-10 12:22 pm (UTC)(link)
[ They've sparred a few times before now, and they hadn't really talked outside of it -- maybe a strange thing to other people, but Wash doesn't mind, can appreciate that, in a way. They'd exchanged names, only held conversation long enough for him to point out something or another but each other's fighting. Reminding her to keep her guard up sometimes feels self-defeating, since even with those occasional slips she's still more than enough of a match for him, but she's always seemed unbothered by his comments, taking them as intended.

When Wash had found himself in the role of a teacher with the sim troopers and the Chorus soldiers, he'd taken to it far more naturally than he ever thought he would, and it's a little hard to get himself out of that mindset. It's not like he's much of a trainer, here, not like he has anything to really teach her, but it's still refreshing to work with someone who has a real idea of what they're doing.

She reminds him of Carolina, of Tex, of Connie, and she'd might make a fair match for any of them, he thinks. Even Carolina.

He takes the bottle with a nod, rubbing at the back of his neck ( Natasha had managed to strike a good blow there in one of their earlier spars, it still stings ) and wiping some of the sweat from his brow, giving her a breathless smile. ]


A while. But probably not as long as you. [ Tipping the bottle in her direction slightly before he drinks from it -- she's an incredible fighter, fights like she has a hundred times the experience he has. And a thought crosses his mind, and he might sputter slightly as he lowers the bottle hurriedly. ] I mean.

[ HE JUST MEANT YOU'RE VERY GOOD. HE'S NOT CALLING YOU OLD??? OH GOD. ]
vorrutyer: (world-weary (and smug))

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-10 12:42 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh. Oh, that's good. If Duv is talking - That question comes without another blow to the face, which Byerly frankly treasures. An exchange without violence is an exchange he approves of.

He stands back a bit, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, trying to look impressively sadistic and Vorrutyerly. By, of course, can't help but be a bit curious about the answer here. The handsome Komarran in charge of Komarran Affairs has always been a little bit of a mystery, and no one on the social scene seemed to know much about him - and, unfortunately, dear Delia Koudelka told him to go soak his head when he put a few subtle and well-phrased questions to her at a party one time. So discovering this information would be - hm. Interesting.
shri: (» and the shivers move down)

[personal profile] shri 2017-02-10 12:49 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Hard-eyed and glittering dull, she watches him, he is not - well, the villain it would be easier to paint him as. But he is not, like Maine, he might seem a thing, but he was quite something else. A man, just a man - playing at what by pretending such plain civility at a party, she didn't know. But it felt at least... sincere. Off centre because there is such a disparity between them. Of things he knew, things she didn't. About him, about why if he was fond enough to not kill Maine outright, but get half-way through the attempt.

She would take a great deal for the sake of sincerity. Because there was truth in that he would not hurt his friend. His shot had been off. Unaware as Maine had been, if he genuinely wanted them dead, it would have been over in seconds.

He wouldn't have pushed her out of harm's way. She must take her chances on that.
]

Well, you are starting late, but you might make something respectable. [ A crinkle that curls at the corner of her eyes that might be honest amusement. That - that is guarded more closely than anything else. Her secret parts, that they had pulled out. ] I doubt very much Maine keeps a friend who is useless.

[ She flicks over him, all of him. This man that is an ally through a mutual friend. What was the expression - the enemy of my enemy is my friend? What did leave them with now? ]

Come, as far as I can tell, I'm too long past these games to enjoy gatherings like this and you are poorly suited to begin with. Show me the weapon. I can at least teach you to hold it right.

[ She's not telling him what she has planned in the very near future - why should she? If he knew, she would run the risk of him being forced to say it. Let them have this, for a moment.

Rather, she offers him her hand for him to help her rise.
]
Edited 2017-02-10 12:50 (UTC)
vorrutyer: (haughty (and smug))

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-10 01:17 pm (UTC)(link)
He glances over, a little surprised when she volunteers that information. Not that he lets it show, of course - oh, no, someone smooth and suave like himself certainly wouldn't ever be showy about being startled; rather, he simply raises an eyebrow at her. He answers her question first - "So they say" - and then takes a moment before asking his own. Admittedly, he...doesn't know if he wants to know the answer to this.

"If...indeed, this sickness will create...living dead," he says. He hesitates, then says, "Does death en masse so inevitably follow? Why have so many been killed where you are from?"
vorrutyer: (explaining everything (badly))

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-10 01:20 pm (UTC)(link)
You...got pregnant.

[ Ah. By's eyebrows quirk; he doesn't fully know if he ought to laugh or not. It seems like a joke, but at the same time - ]

In what organs, exactly? Do you have a womb, then?
vorrutyer: (really fucking stressed)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-10 01:41 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, you know, a moonlight stroll.

[ He murmurs that sotto voce, casual as anything - but at the same time, he's moving just a bit, step by small step, edging around to put himself between her and Maine even as she edges closer to him.

This little mince in her direction culminates in a dual sensation of terror and relief when he hears the scrape of a sword being drawn. Ah. Yes. A traitor after all, he thinks. And also: well done, Byerly, you'll give the girl the chance to get away. And also: Dear me, I certainly don't want to die hacked into quivering bits by a shambling mountain. He is afraid of that sound, but, well - terror always loses out to recklessness when you are Vor, even when you are disinherited rejected Vor. So when Maine draws, Byerly turns immediately, shoving Beth behind him with one arm as he steps in to intercept the blow, the movements smooth and practiced if not exactly deadly...

And then he's left, blinking foolishly, when Maine shoves the blade at him instead of through him.

Ah. Well. It takes him a moment to recover from that. He clears his throat, and then takes the sword, stepping off to the side and looking at no one and trying desperately to pretend none of that happened. Instead, he brandishes the sword at a rock, trying to look like an idiot pretending to duel when he has no idea how to duel. And he says, lightly and quietly: ]


Cheers, good fellow. Shall we?
protocol: (► anyway i am a man)

[personal profile] protocol 2017-02-10 01:47 pm (UTC)(link)
[ She doesn't need to say it, doesn't even need to act like it -- Wash wouldn't trust him if he were her, either, wouldn't quite know what to make of someone like that. He'd pushed her out of harm's way, possibly saved her life, but he'd been responsible for getting her captured. He was apparently a friend of Maine's, but he'd held a blade to his throat when he first saw him. He's being amiable enough, here, clearly trying hold conversation, but he'd still sat and watched as she'd been drugged, and.

That she's talking to him at all, Wash already considers more than gracious. He wouldn't have done the same, if he was in her shoes.

Wash smiles at her response, but he might hesitate slightly when she clearly means now. Now, as in not after the party, no time to change or wash any of this damned paint off his face. But well, Wash is hardly a stranger to making a fool of himself for the sake of some levity, and he relaxes a moment later, pushing himself up to his feet ( and still fumbling slightly with the robes, as he stands ) and taking her hand to help her. He manages it, ah, gracefully enough. ]


You realize I'm not dressed for training, at the moment. [ Just with a dry self-deprecating tone -- note that he's pointing it out, but not saying no, and really, he's probably played along enough for now. He'll take any excuse he can get to get away from the party for a while. ]
lovernotafighter: (Calculating how long it's going to take)

I totally hope this is okay!

[personal profile] lovernotafighter 2017-02-10 01:58 pm (UTC)(link)
[Heyheyheyheywhatthefuck?!]

Do I look like furniture to you?! Dude, you can’t just—

[But Maine – yet another damn Freelancer - could. He fucking could because he was huge, and it was literally nothing to pick Tucker up and place him like he was a lamp during a redecorating stint. The Sim Trooper’s eyes widened because come the fuck on and he was too freaking shocked to kick and flail like he really, really wanted to.

And he was about to talk about how the only people allowed to manhandle him were hot chicks in leather – pay rates determined upon arrival – but then the fucker made that noise. That noise. That fucking noise and he had never heard anyone else make that same sound in his life. Sure, it sounded different outside of a fucking helmet, but—but—

Wash was put on the goddamn backburner; that was a fight that he was going to have later because Tucker was about ninety-eight percent sure that the person who just moved him like an inconvenient baby was the goddamn Meta. Carolina seemed just a-okay with this, and holy shit, he was dead, wasn’t he? He was dead or in a coma, probably the latter because after Junior when he was in one before he had fucked up dreams like this and this shit? This shit didn’t get any crazier.

Also, how the fuck did she understand him?! Those weren’t words!

Enjoy the wide-eyed half-confused, half-pissed-as-hell look he was shooting at you, Carolina. This asshole nearly killed them. He was the main reason Church – Alpha – wasn’t here. His best friend. His best fucking friend. He was still all sorts of standing after Tucker drove his sword into his goddamn chest on that snowy cliff and he was the scariest motherfucker just about ever, but hey, let’s just stand around and chat each other up like this was normal! Sure. Whatever. The weather was cold and the food was shit and the Meta was here.]


I’m dead, right? This is, like, Hell or something. Because this?! [And one of his arms waved at Maine because why be subtle?] This can’t be happening.
shri: (» we are the hearts)

[personal profile] shri 2017-02-10 02:18 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Just to add insult to injury really, she doesn't have any of his problems navigating her skirts and robes. The wrap of material around her upper body that she keeps just in place as to not show - well her injuries more than anything. No interest in making a show of her wounds or the way she body is grave.

Rather, she keeps herself artfully draped. Another piece of material she draws up over her hair, veiling her almost, save that she does not keep her face hidden away. Her hand is bird light on his. Wrapping her fingers around his momentarily. Her callouses to his, well met. Different, perhaps, guns she supposes, to swords. Deep set on the palm of her hand and the inner curl of her fingers, the knicks that leaves knuckles looking chipped. An unhappy feeling for that too. It's hard to straighten out her hand completely. She was going to end up like her old Generals at this rate.

She lets herself being led, her hand still on his own, held carefully. Formal military escort, she's sure.
]

If you are going to stay here amongst them, you're going to need to learn to fight in anything. That is what it is like in high society. [ The words are drawled, mockingly low to his ear as she leans in slightly closer to say it. ] My ladies - [ stops, pauses, he knows about her ladies, doesn't he - swinging from trees with rope necklaces. Raw wounds that never close. ] - were capable of doing it in formal attire at a moments notice.
mirrortide: (074)

[personal profile] mirrortide 2017-02-10 02:19 pm (UTC)(link)
My kind would probably be happy, actually. We don't much care for organic life. [If she's supposed to be insulted or have a sudden change of heart, this prisoner is going to have to do a lot better.]

Your kind dies all the time. You're not exactly long lived.
shri: (» I'll go there with you)

[personal profile] shri 2017-02-10 02:33 pm (UTC)(link)
[ And that - that clarifies it all, doesn't it? Makes it simple, makes it easy. Of course. of course something not human would not care. She goes so still, and so quiet, and so painfully shut down from even the laughter, the cruelty, the mockery.

That she's wrong, that some of them lived too long, means nothing. She doesn't look surprised at the notion, oh no. Rather like something is clicking into place.
] What is your kind?
mirrortide: (074)

[personal profile] mirrortide 2017-02-10 02:36 pm (UTC)(link)
Gem. I'm a Lapis Lazuli, to be precise. And for the record, that's not 'like' the gemstone. I am the gemstone. [Because she's already cleared that one up before.]
shri: (» and the shivers move down)

[personal profile] shri 2017-02-10 02:42 pm (UTC)(link)
[ She's -- what?

Blinks at her once, and then shakes her head - because she's marvellously accepting, isn't she? Live long enough, and you begin to accept all sorts of things. Or just that she's always somehow accepting of the worst. Close enough.

Somehow, it might just be easier to think she was a vampire.
]

If that is true, then I have had much of you carved to wear. Indeed, my husband traded for you often.
Edited 2017-02-10 14:43 (UTC)
stompadour: (ugh)

[personal profile] stompadour 2017-02-10 03:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Jasper sucks in a breath through her teeth, stung. Of course not. She looks away for a second, huffs, growls under her breath.

"Are there any other gems here? Besides Lapis?"
Edited 2017-02-10 18:25 (UTC)
littlemissfutility: (49)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-02-10 03:46 pm (UTC)(link)
"We didn't know what it was, at first. And there were cities." Maybe that can be a comfort here--that they're in a tiny mountain camp, not even a village, and it's not like they're entertaining people from all over Barrayar right now. "People got on planes with it. It was all over the world before we realized what it did."

She shrugs. If she had to show up on the planet, carrying the disease with her, at least she didn't wind up in a city. She's tempted to tell him all about the way things happened--the way they could only see what was happening in retrospect and only partially, imperfectly--but it's an instinct she shakes off. "But we know about it. We can make sure people stay dead."
infailtration: custom art by <user name="reikofanel">, PLEASE DO NOT TAKE (york (13))

[personal profile] infailtration 2017-02-10 03:57 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He nods once; though he doesn't think they'll interrogate her again, he wasn't going to tell her the plan (such as it is so far) anyway. ]

You won't. I'm asking you if there's anything I can do in the meanwhile. Do you need to see a doctor?

...my name's York, by the way. We didn't have the best introduction.
mirrortide: (039)

[personal profile] mirrortide 2017-02-10 04:01 pm (UTC)(link)
[Thankfully Lapis knows that these were likely non sentient versions of her. Not that it helpsbthe feelings of disgust and discomfort.

She's absolutely making a face.
]

Thanks. Next time I see a dead human I'll be sure to carve their bones and wear them as decoration.
lovernotafighter: (Default)

[personal profile] lovernotafighter 2017-02-10 04:03 pm (UTC)(link)
[Tucker told jokes. Tucker spoke a second language in sarcasm, and he liked to think of himself as a laughing, charming guy. Currently, there wasn’t any sign of joke in this telling. Yeah. Yeah, he got pregnant. He had a baby. He had the scar to prove it, along with the unamused, flat look he was sporting he right now.]

Um, do I look like a doctor to you? Fuck if I know; I don’t even know the organs I have right now. [Sitting back, he shrugged, arms spread, because--] I said I was Professor Fuck, not Doctor Pregnant People.

[In truth, he wasn’t sure that even Doc knew what organs people had either. Now Dr. Grey? Totally different story, and sometimes he wished that she didn’t know as much as she did. She was scary…]

Dude, I don’t recommend it. That shit is as uncomfortable as hell.
Edited 2017-02-10 16:04 (UTC)
vorrutyer: (haughty (and smug))

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-10 04:07 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yes. I suppose so." But if it's really enough simply to make sure people stay dead, then why is her home as it is now? It's clear enough from what she's said that everything is in a terrible state. Chaos everywhere. Destruction. The complete breakdown of civilization. For that to happen to Barrayar -

No. No. He won't let it. He thinks that fiercely. No matter what happens, no matter what he has to do, what lines he has to cross, he won't permit that to happen. Never. And yet, when he glances over at Beth -

Well. That's for later. Later. Yes. After they have all the facts.

"So what is it, exactly? What makes it happen? Have you figured that out? It all does seem quite impossible - rising from the dead, et cetera."
infailtration: (pic#11002042)

[personal profile] infailtration 2017-02-10 04:11 pm (UTC)(link)
"Relatively speaking. They couldn't do anything about the scar." Not that he would have asked for it, anyway... he's accepted the old wound. More surgery to fix something aesthetic just seems unnecessary, as much as the Cetagandan's obvious distaste for the mark bothers him. Nobody's perfect, alright Cetaganda? Nobody.

His searching fingers find the edge of the bandage and he tugs at it gently, ignoring Wash's urging him to rest. "Just for a second. I need to know if it worked."
symmetricks: (pic#11027243)

[personal profile] symmetricks 2017-02-10 04:17 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Goodness. So cautious. So suspicious. As though he were a lone deer in the midst of a tiger's lair. But he's making an effort to be civil, if not outright social, which means he has sense enough to know a good situation when he's in one.

That's fortunate for him. Some around here don't appear to have even that much sense about them. There is an opportunity here none of them should be taking for granted.

Satya appears neither pleased nor displeased by his decision to indulge in the little treats they've been left. On the contrary, she almost looks amused by his reservation. That little jest that follows earns an arch of her brow. ]


Are you always this dramatic?
symmetricks: (pic#10950174)

[personal profile] symmetricks 2017-02-10 04:23 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Satya does not ask if she is the prisoner, in way of introduction. That fact is obvious, and she will not trouble either of them with small talk.

No, what is happening here is plain for anyone to see, and part of her wants to warn the Cetagandans as much. Their kindness and generosity is wasted on those who will see only what they wish to, and this woman has violence on her mind and in her heart.

How deplorable. Satya's gold eyes narrow. ]


You intend to continue fighting.

[ Said as fact, because to her? It surely must be. And so long as that remains the case, she can expect at least one pair of eyes to be following her wherever she goes. ]
protocol: (Default)

[personal profile] protocol 2017-02-10 04:25 pm (UTC)(link)
No, York, bad. This time Wash reaches up to grab at his arm, fingers curving firmly around his forearm and giving him a slight squeeze -- not forcibly tugging his arm away, but definitely making a point. He'll strap you down if he has to, but surely you know better than that, York.

"If everything was already ready to go, they wouldn't have bandaged it, York." He's using a tone of voice that York -- probably hasn't heard from him before. Strict, authoritative, giving orders. "Give it some time."
symmetricks: (pic#10950175)

[personal profile] symmetricks 2017-02-10 04:27 pm (UTC)(link)
[ This is apparently a common line of inquiry. Satya lets out her breath a little sooner than she'd meant to, as the urge to sigh takes over, before redrawing breath and attempting the count again.

Once it's completed, she begins to stretch herself back to the floor, legs continuing to be remain bent, but allowing her back to stretch across the floor. Her arms settle at her sides, and her eyes remain closed to her visitor. ]


It is, provided you have trained for it as I have.

[ Most people off the street, admittedly, would find trouble in achieving this pose easily or comfortably. ]
symmetricks: (pic#10950176)

[personal profile] symmetricks 2017-02-10 04:31 pm (UTC)(link)
Good girl. That earns her some favor, where Satya is concerned.

She draws the set to a close and unfolds herself gracefully, reaching to rub at where her shoulder meets her cybernetic arm. A little soreness is common at the joint area, but nothing these exercises can't loosen. Finally, she turns her attention fully to her new student.

"Are you familiar with yoga at all? Studied any breathing exercises?"

She needs to know where to start with this...startling large woman.