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.
infailtration: custom art by <user name="thebutt">, PLEASE DO NOT TAKE (7-2)

[personal profile] infailtration 2017-02-19 06:56 pm (UTC)(link)
"What you could, huh? That doesn't sound so encouraging." He's smiling, though, glad to hear Wash laugh about something. And he's glad that Wash has people again, after losing Freelancer. After... well. He knows what it's like to be on his own. York's always needed people, so he had a rough time of it, and he isn't going to assume that Wash had it any better.

He knows Wash judges him for trusting Ratchet, though. And maybe he's too eager, here, to let people in. To have friends again, something he's gone so long without. On the run he didn't trust anyone and it feels good to have a break from that, the constant fear and paranoia. And his need to connect has only gotten worse since Wash dropped the bomb of his death on him -- what if this is his last chance?

"Yeah, probably... it sounds like his outfit has some real characters." He accepts the little nudge, grinning, though his brows knit quizzically at the aborted question. "Are we..?"

Oh.

The grin turns into a broader smile as he laughs softly. "No, man. You're the last one I expected to have your mind in the gutter. We're just..." he waves a hand, searching for the word. "Contact helps, that's all."
protocol: (Default)

[personal profile] protocol 2017-02-19 07:49 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Knives. He misses his knives, really, the familiar weight of them in his hands -- he knows the combat knives, and even without a gun he'd always been confident enough as long as he had at least one on him. As outclassed as he tended to be back in Freelancer, knives were a weapon he could sometimes actually best the others with. He wonders how different the ones from Lakshmi's world might be. Probably a different material, at the very least, not the titanium coating that most UNSC standard combat knives.

None of those here. This rapier will have to be his weapon, now, even if it's not as easily concealed, even if he doesn't know it like the back of his hand. Yet, he reminds himself. He'll train until he does.  ]


Depends on the fight. [ The obvious answer. He turns the sword in his hand, just feeling the weight of it and how it balances against his palm even with the slightest turns of his wrist, watches light catch along the blade. He's so used to firearms, to combat knives with notches and custom grips, to weapons that he knows like the back of his hand and it'd still take him time to carefully break apart and disassemble in order to clean and maintain everything. This is just a sword. Metal, hammered and heated into shape ( as far as he knows, anyway ), forged into one simple purpose. The most ornate thing here is the hilt, and even then it's mostly spartan. It's different, but he likes that. Efficient. Elegant. He remembers the grace with which Lakshmi moves, even when she walks, when she'd fought that night out on the grounds, moments before when she had the sword in her hand and her apparent fatigue almost seemed to vanish.

Another testing jab, with more force behind it this time, shifting his weight forward as he does so, to test his reach. ]


Back home, we almost always fought armored, against armored opponents. [ A pause, bringing the sword close so he can run the fingers of his other hand along the flat of the blade. Even against armor of it's own time, he doubts this sword could do much against it, not if you tried to strike through it, but that's something he's used to, too. ] Our knives were specifically coated to be capable of piercing armor, but it was still almost always more effective to aim for the joints and seams. Against someone less skilled where I knew I could finish it quickly, I'd do it just that -- straight for the throat, straight for the belly, right under the chin up into the skull.

In other cases -- I'd usually watch how people move, strike anywhere between the armor that they exposed the most. Always keep moving, in and out. Strike where I could, inside the thigh, inside the arm, anywhere with a vulnerable artery or nerve. Work them down, wear them out, outlast them until I could finish it.

[ It feels like the rapier would work similarly, at least in the overall idea. Quick and efficient, much more nimble than the sword York had taken off the other Barrayan. He gives the sword another experimental swing, just watching it cut through the air, and that could probably cut something but he doubts it'd be much. He tries to move with it, again, another strike, another swing, shifting his foot, imagining an opponent in front of him, imagining the holographic targets flashing as they spun around him in the training room, imagining Carolina standing in front of him, gesturing him forward with a crook of his shoulder -- and he tries to move a bit too much, apparently, given the constraints of his robes, and Wash stumbles. He manages not to fall, reaches out to start to catch himself against some nearby shelf, but he's able to regain his footing without it.

A sigh, glancing back at Lakshmi. ]


Probably not quite like that. [ HE'LL GET BETTER . . . ]
komarran: (life is looking up for duv galeni)

[personal profile] komarran 2017-02-19 08:30 pm (UTC)(link)
It was a far cry from my previous training.
stompadour: (?)

[personal profile] stompadour 2017-02-19 08:34 pm (UTC)(link)
[Frowning in concentration, like she's concerned there may be some trick to this that she doesn't understand (and really, there are so many weird complications involved in human functioning that it seems a reasonable concern to her, at this point), Jasper lifts her huge ass hands to grip the bar.]

And then, what, you just...

[She frowns a little harder and pulls herself up.]

Is that all??

[It can't be, right? Is he doing something she's missing??]
dendarii: (cocky lil bastard)

[personal profile] dendarii 2017-02-19 08:34 pm (UTC)(link)
Ever used it since then? I haven't.
protocol: (► APPENDIX DOMINATING DEATH)

[personal profile] protocol 2017-02-19 08:42 pm (UTC)(link)
[ If only Wash had an answer for him.

The problem is that there isn't really one, is there? What does he need right now. On a basic level, Wash could never know what York needs, they're different people, everyone processes information differently, but deeper than that, there's no right way to deal with the death of loved ones, let alone the idea that you yourself might be buried with them, somehow. Carolina had been the one good news that Wash was able to share, but that comes with it's own caveats, too. He won't pretend to know what their relationship was really like, but when he'd found York he looked to be alone, and Carolina was nowhere to be seen.

She went back, Wash thinks to himself. She went back for you, but he doesn't know if he should say it. Doesn't know if it'd help, if it'd just make things worse, if it's just pressing into a wound but not really helping.

Time's the closest thing to an answer there is, but it's a fucking garbage answer and Wash knows that. All time has done is helped him distance himself from things that happened, and he still spent years and years dragging himself through that quagmire, stumbling and lost in the fog, and every now and then he still spirals down and down and has to claw his way back out. Almost ten years and the nightmares still haven't gone away. He just expects them, now. They sting less. There's little his mind can imagine that surprises him, anymore, and he's learned not to sleep rather than wake up screaming.

He keeps his hand where it is. ]


I'm here. We both are. Just -- remember that. [ The words feel empty even when he says it, a platitude. It's still important to remember, but he knows it does nothing to really heal anything. Wash tightens his grip over his shoulder, gives him a wry smile. ] But hey, in case you're considering dedicating your life to getting some kind of payback?

Tried it. Wouldn't recommend it. [ A huff, not quite a laugh, but he's still clearly trying to bring light to the situation -- the way York had always done, back in Freelancer. God, how all that just slips away. ] There -- at least now you'll do better than me.
symmetricks: (pic#10950176)

[personal profile] symmetricks 2017-02-19 08:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Technology is but a tool, neither good nor evil. No matter its origin, it was what was done with it that made the difference. So she might have told him if such concerns were raised, but as it is she can only read his approval of the work she does.

That speaks well of him, to understand the importance of what follows a war. Particularly when his own profession comes to light. ]


I see. Were it not such a constant. Perhaps it is simply a symptom of humanity's imperfection.

[ Her eyes narrow. He may not feel as she does. Being a soldier in the midst of those ugly, needless battles surely gives one a different outlook. But it is foreign to her, that world. ]

I can only hope this war is not so catastrophic. If it ends soon, perhaps the people of this planet will be able to enjoy the comfort and security the Cetagandans still offer them.
komarran: (hehehehe cute)

[personal profile] komarran 2017-02-19 09:09 pm (UTC)(link)
Embassy duty never called for advanced mathematics. No one's ever called on their admiral to double check their work?
dendarii: (good point)

[personal profile] dendarii 2017-02-19 09:10 pm (UTC)(link)
Of course they did. But I wisely left that to the experts.
komarran: (slightly interested instead of resigned)

[personal profile] komarran 2017-02-19 09:25 pm (UTC)(link)
"History and government, primarily that of my planet," he answers. It's not often he hears someone excited to discuss his profession in academics. Barrayar's interest had always been more focused on military, a fact that had annoyed him when he first enlisted and his basic ensign title had overtaken his hard-earned 'doctor.'

"Unfortunately it's not knowledge that helps here."
protocol: (► i of never seen a diamond in a meat)

[personal profile] protocol 2017-02-19 09:30 pm (UTC)(link)
In his defense it's not like hooking ain't a form of contact. And it was a perfectly reasonable conclusion for him to draw.

Drawing smiles and an actual laugh from him is worth the awkward embarrassment of even asking the question. Wash just shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair, shifting to kick up his feet further down the edge of York's bed. He really doesn't smile that much anymore, but it's easy, with York, matching that grin with something almost just as broad, just as bright, and right now, even after everything that's happened, all those years apart, this feels. Familiar. Different, but familiar.

"I'm just saying, man. You can't blame a guy for asking." Seriously it was a perfectly reasonable conclusion to draw. He sharpens his tone, but clearly in jest, feigning some offense. "Besides, I'm the last one you expected? What's that even supposed to mean?"

He's not some blushing virgin okay. Not to mention he's spent a lot of his time recently surrounded by people who basically live in that gutter.

"Fair's fair, if you've got any embarrassing, personal questions for me."
terrifyingrenegade: (Not listening)

[personal profile] terrifyingrenegade 2017-02-19 09:31 pm (UTC)(link)
"I suppose not," Pearl says icily. She finally sits back down on her bed, but she does it aggressively, enough for her slight weight to make the springs creak. She crosses one leg over the other, arms folded over her chest as she scowls over at Jasper.

"Well," she starts to add in her trademark sanctimonious lecturing tone, "I hope you realize how lucky you are to be cured. Even if it is at the expense of becoming human..." No one has ever been cured of corruption before, as far as she's aware, and Pearl can think if a good number of her former comrades that would deserve it a lot more than Jasper does.
komarran: (skeptical of it getting good again)

[personal profile] komarran 2017-02-19 09:37 pm (UTC)(link)
That explains how your fleet remained functional.
dendarii: (half pint of trouble)

[personal profile] dendarii 2017-02-19 09:39 pm (UTC)(link)
Just so. I left all the work to the experts, really.
protocol: (► once you have a soul)

[personal profile] protocol 2017-02-19 10:09 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Wash is watching her when she starts to mimic him, and it's evident to him that she really -- isn't pulling his leg here. She clearly has no idea what he's even asking her to do. On the positive side, though, it doesn't look like the bar is buckling! Yet. ]

Just want to see where you're at, Jasper.

Up -- [ He demonstrates, as he talks, slowly. ] -- Shoulders back, core tight, pull evenly with both arms. Back down, control it, don't just fall and let gravity do it, abs tight the whole time.

And again. [ Once more, quicker this time, before he looks back at her, still hanging from the bar. ] Exhale during tension -- when you pull, and inhale when you're lowering yourself.

[ SO NO JASPER IT ISN'T ALL ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU'RE TALKING TO MR. OVERLY DETAILED HE WILL GIVE YOU ALL THE DETAILED MUSCLE AND FORM CUES IF YOU WANT THEM ]

Try it.
stompadour: (NO???)

[personal profile] stompadour 2017-02-19 10:42 pm (UTC)(link)
[She listens attentively, but seems to get confused halfway through. Actually she goes a little cross-eyed for a second before her attention snaps back to Wash.]

What's the core of a human?

[HE OBVIOUSLY DOESN'T MEAN HER GEM...]
protocol: (► APPENDIX DOMINATING DEATH)

[personal profile] protocol 2017-02-19 10:45 pm (UTC)(link)
Not just humanity, if that's any comfort. [ Not much of one, really. ] Not that we've ever really needed help finding excuses for wars, but this time, it was against a non-human threat.

[ With infighting the entire way. Wash is sure he's killed more humans than covenant in his lifetime, and he wouldn't be surprised if every one of them thought they were doing the right thing. It's interesting to hear her speak of the Cetagandans so positively -- it's been difficult for Wash not to be inherently wary and suspicious of them, and it seems like most of the exotics have shared this view. He's learned the hard way, several times over, that it's never black and white, that things are never as easy as a right and a wrong side in a war, and he's adamant on not taking sides. ]

From what I understand, most of the planet is relatively peaceful. [ Most of them had taken the deal, but it's hard to say if it's something they want or if the death and destruction that comes with warfare just happens to be something they wanted even less than the Cetagandan's -- help. ] It's just here.
stompadour: (DISDAINFUL LIP CURL)

[personal profile] stompadour 2017-02-19 10:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Jasper's irritation shifts into anger as Pearl speaks; her eyes narrow and she leans back a little, folding one arm over the other. She's very grateful to have been brought back from the state she remembers slipping into – just the few seconds of it that she can remember before she woke up here are chilling to think about, and the idea of returning to that... Well, it's made her uneasy about Lapis's talk of returning to their true forms, she knows that much.

She doesn't like being spoken to like this by a Pearl, either – and she's more irked by the fact that the way she's talking about it suggests she knows more about it than Jasper does.

She huffs through her teeth.

"Corruption," she repeats. "That's what you call it? That happens a lot, on Earth, huh?"
littlemissfutility: (55)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-02-19 10:56 pm (UTC)(link)
"It might be," she offers, partially to be polite and partially because history and government seem relevant when people are fighting over control of a planet. Of course, it's not his planet, but it sounds like Komarr is close enough that it could eventually be relevant. "Did you like it?"

The teaching, she means, rather than the subject matter--that, he must love, to want to spend all he time doing it--though she doesn't think to specify.
protocol: (Default)

[personal profile] protocol 2017-02-19 11:03 pm (UTC)(link)
[ tighten your nose jasper

Wash is surprised, and honestly not even because he hasn't heard that question before, because he fucking has, believe it or not. It's just that he hasn't quite heard it from someone who looks like they're incredibly in shape. But then, apparently, she was born that way.

He lets go of the bar, motioning for her to stay on, since she seems to be doing the deadhang fine, moving in front of her and gesturing at his middle. ]


When we say core, this is what we're talking about -- abdominal muscles, external obliques, spinal erectors. You don't need to know the names, but you'll need to have at least some familiarity with your brand new human body if you want to do any of this right. [ Tipping his head in her direction. ] Try imagining someone hitting you in the stomach, and brace your body for it. Feel where that tension is, that'll be a good start.

If your aim is strength, doing things without proper form will just get you worse results -- and you risk hurting yourself. If I have to sit you down for human body theory lessons, I will.

[ HE'LL DRAW YOU A GODDAMN LABELLED DIAGRAM ]
natalia_vdova: (She's a Legend)

[personal profile] natalia_vdova 2017-02-19 11:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Men with ideas will make the world burn.

[Save us from Men of Vision.

And there's a weight to the way that she says the words. Like it's a kind of truth that she knows too, something more than just an orphan girl pulled into a program she hadn't understood. And she understands it, because she's thinking of Pierce, of a man that turned down the nobel peace prize, that she had once believed in like she'd believed in Fury. And he put ships in the sky to kill anyone that might get in his way.

She'd lost friends in the Battle for the Triskelion. Not close ones; not people like Steve or Clint. Instead, it had been more nefarious. It had been the girl that had nervously asked her for help shooting because she was trying to get her field agent certification, a pilot that she'd not-quite dated but always used pickup lines like he wasn't afraid of her.

Steve saved the world, Sam and James made it out alive, and he counted it a victory.
Natasha didn't see it, the people that had filled her life across the years she'd worked for SHIELD reduced to names on a list of dead, and all she sees is her failure.]


--Did you lose anything else in the wormhole?

[It takes her a moment to debate over whether or not to ask, but in the end she does, even if she's half tempted to just shrug and ask him if he wants to go another round. Instead, she lets that question linger because she needs to know if it hit anyone else like it did her. The reason so often she doesn't sleep, but pushes herself as if this is some barrier she can break through, something she can fix by sheer determination.

And it's easier than the alternative. Telling him about how they changed her body, the way she functions, physically and mentally. But her eyes are off to the side, not quite able to look him in the face when she asks, knowing that there's no way to know if he'd tell her or not. She doesn't quite trust him and he doesn't trust her, but there's something to it.]
komarran: (slightly interested instead of resigned)

[personal profile] komarran 2017-02-20 12:03 am (UTC)(link)
"My work? I enjoyed it immensely," he says with a small smile. He had almost gone into a full professorship before the Imperial Service had opened to Komarrans and he made a sudden career change, all for the sake of improving relations of his planet within the Barrayaran empire. How times would change in only a few decades.

"There hasn't been a chance for academic pursuits since I arrived here. The Cetagandans had little use for my skills and those here don't trust me to pitch a tent much less do anything else."
natalia_vdova: (Don't pull on that thread)

[personal profile] natalia_vdova 2017-02-20 01:53 am (UTC)(link)
"Tell me you have flying cars. They've been working on them since the 1940s and I'm still disappointed." Natasha quips with a lift of an eyebrow. But, true to her word she doesn't seem particularly rattled by the date, or the prospect that he's from two hundred years in her future. Part of it is that she has a bit of an odd relation with time herself, the other part is, well.. like she said: she's seen weirder.

"I've meet Thor. Biceps and hammer and thunder and all." She says with a low hint of not-quite humor. She leaves the subject of his brother, and his specific relation to the alien invasion quiet, for the moment at least. With Natasha it's always a question of just how much about herself she's willing to give away. "So colorful is certainly a word for it."
terrifyingrenegade: (The fUCK did you just say!?!)

[personal profile] terrifyingrenegade 2017-02-20 01:54 am (UTC)(link)
Pearl looks momentarily flummoxed. Corruption is a Homeworld creation, so there's something kind of almost... insulting? About the fact that Jasper doesn't seem to know what it is.

"It happened once," Pearl clarifies, "and that was enough." Her expression is stormy, contemptuous. "How can you not... Know about this?" The more she goes on, the more disgusted she sounds.
vorbratta: (and throw me back in the ditch again)

[personal profile] vorbratta 2017-02-20 02:31 am (UTC)(link)
Sonia's hands relax slightly, but they don't unclench just yet. She gazes steadily at Duv, unwavering. "With your life?"