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.
stompadour: (what)

[personal profile] stompadour 2017-02-23 03:16 am (UTC)(link)
YOU #TRIGGERED HER, PEARL

That is to say – it feels like she went into more detail than Jasper is perhaps intellectually aware that she did. What little Pearl did say made her remember more clearly than she's comfortable with what it felt like to slip away, the realisation as she did that what had happened to the gem she'd just fused with was happening to her too, and that, worst of all, she'd brought it on herself –

Her huge hands clench into fists. For a second longer, she stands there – then she storms out without another word.
eugengineer: (pic#10725608)

[personal profile] eugengineer 2017-02-23 03:34 am (UTC)(link)
Diya gives that a provisional nod. That's a good explanation for an offworlder to come away with. The nuances of Cetagandan society are simply too difficult to explain to offworlders, sometimes, but then, the Cetagandans rather like it that way.

"Mm." It's a noncommittal answer; military affairs are not her department. But she follows with, "One can only hope. The native population is very...resilient."
eugengineer: (pic#10725599)

[personal profile] eugengineer 2017-02-23 03:36 am (UTC)(link)
Oh, now this is interesting. And more interesting still for the fact that Lapis had hardly made mention of it at all. It seems like a rather large detail to have overlooked.

"How long have you been at civil war?"
startpoint: (48)

[personal profile] startpoint 2017-02-23 03:48 am (UTC)(link)
"It's a lot like Barrayar in its own way. It's so far out of the way that most people forgot it existed." Which was why Charon was able to isolate it so completely. "Plenty of jungle and canyons, though. The snow stayed in the higher altitudes."

Funny how easy it is to feel nostalgic for a place she hadn't ended up at willingly. But she does miss it. "It had these... ruins all over the surface from another species."
littlemissfutility: (34)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-02-23 04:25 am (UTC)(link)
"Maybe not." She's not sure about that. Somewhere, she'd like to think, his soul lives on. Somewhere safe, hopefully somewhere warmer than Barrayar. But even if it doesn't, and everything that made the Cetagandan him bled out, what happens matters to him a little, if only his memory. Corpses whose dignity has been taken away from them are wrong, even if there's no one inside them anymore. "But it should matter to us."

Beth looks up at him, spending a moment or two taking him in. She can't begin to guess what he's thinking. "You're one of the new outsiders, right? What's your name?"

It's stupid, as far as small talk goes--they sleep in the same tent, he's obviously one of the new outsiders--but she's not sure how else to begin. The last thing she wants is to keep talking about the execution to anyone, not just this man.
natalia_vdova: (This Is War)

[personal profile] natalia_vdova 2017-02-23 04:38 am (UTC)(link)
"Honestly, I haven't seen anything here that looks too far from home, if I'm being honest." She admits with a shrug of her shoulders. The touchscreen and holodisplays were tech that was all over SHIELD, not to mention Avenger's Tower.

"But I would have been interested in seeing your space pistol. My guns were all clips and bullets, but I also used electrobatons, EMP discs, that sort of thing. But, like your gear, none of it made it through the wormhole. I could probably make it myself, but I'd need tools and parts, and the Cetagandan hospitality seems unlikely to extend quite that far."

She's not a tech genius the way that Tony is, not about innovation and creativity in that sort of sphere, but she's smart, smarter than most people give her credit for. She knows how her gear works. She knows how to take it apart and put it back together because there have been too many points in her life where getting out alive has hinged on doing exactly that.
natalia_vdova: (still in the dark)

[personal profile] natalia_vdova 2017-02-23 09:02 am (UTC)(link)
Enlightenment is a lie people with power use to make theft of someone else's resources acceptable. I've lived long enough to see the many ways they repackage conquest as salvation.

[There's a curve of her mouth, but it's bitter, not a smile. It's the look of someone that's seen the starvation that comes with war. Seen her own people repurposed and labeled as hateful barbarians to fill the role of someone else's villain, to fuel an arms race that could have destroyed the world. And she's see worse enacted against other countries, and so often it's with lies told like this.

She meant it when she told Lakshmi she wasn't fighting for anyone here. The Cetagandan rhetoric is something she's heard many times before, in other mouths, and never was it actually in the interest of those being oppressed.]


It doesn't change it.
protocol: (► ladderpoints is now upon us)

[personal profile] protocol 2017-02-23 10:15 am (UTC)(link)
[ Small praise, but he'll take it. Dropping a blade on his foot ( especially when he's wearing sandals ) sounds like it would've been a much worse outcome.

Lakshmi braiding her hair reminds him a little of growing up on Leonis Minoris, when the war was young but it was less of a pressing reality and more of an ominous cloud hanging overhead, when it hadn't reached anywhere close enough for them to understand it, when he used to sit and braid his sister's hair. He's struck a little by how well it suits her, when she stands to move over to him, flicking the braid over her shoulder -- it's beautiful and delicate in a way, but practical.

When she starts to guide him, he listens with rapt attention, completely relaxed and allowing Lakshmi to direct him, taking note of the subtle way she adjusts his stance. His brow is furrowed in concentration, both watching the movement and listening to her words and feeling how the weight of the sword shifts against his palm. From the wrist, not the elbow, so more about fine motions than about the strong sweep of the elbow, more careful and more importantly precise. Precision seems to be the key.

When she steps back, he's already starting to mimic the motions, murmuring some of her words under his breath as he follows the movement. Every time he notices he gets something slightly wrong, he frowns, starts it from the beginning again. Slow, careful, deliberate, speed comes later, he understands that. There's a few times when he doesn't make a mistake but he doesn't feel confident enough in it and stops to start it from the beginning anyway, many times when he does make mistakes and likely doesn't quite notice until later, but he does clearly have absolutely no problem with memory, each pattern already engraved into his mind. It's just a matter of execution. Of practice. Knowing it like breathing.

Eventually he manages a series of strikes where he feels confident enough that he has the movements all correct, at least as precise as he can manage it, still at a slow and deliberate pace. He doesn't exactly stop, but he does glance back at her, a silent question, was that right, was there something I missed.

He's studious. Very studious. That much is probably obvious, now. ]
protocol: (► i of never seen a diamond in a meat)

[personal profile] protocol 2017-02-23 10:20 am (UTC)(link)
Maybe.

[ Wash shakes his head even when he says it. ]

The Barrayans obviously believe in their cause, if they've been fighting for this long. They know what they're up against. [ He honestly thinks that the Cetagandans might be exaggerating just how backwards the Barrayans might be, but it's clear enough that for whatever reason they just don't have anywhere near the technology to be able to hold their own, and he doubts they have the supplies. Choosing to fight against odds like that isn't about winning. It's about not backing down, whatever the cost. ] People like that aren't changing their mind any time soon.

The Cetagandans could avoid bloodshed just by leaving them alone, too.

[ Just saying. ]
lovernotafighter: (You FUCK!)

[personal profile] lovernotafighter 2017-02-23 01:34 pm (UTC)(link)
What happened to Church. Assholes left me at a desert temple seemed to want to preface itself, but he bit that one back because it wasn’t exactly relevant, just a sore spot. He didn’t know where to start, because explaining Church dying was like explaining why tornadoes kept touching down in Tornado Valley: it just kept happening, again and again.

He leaned into her, looked to the pawn, and picked that one up instead, turning it over in his hand. He knew this piece at least, and there was intent there. “So, Church is an A.I. and an asshole, but, like, more asshole than A.I. He was blown away in an emp.” He said it like that, too; not each letter, but emp as if itself was a word. “I guess it was kinda mandatory to stop the Meta since he had the fragments, but…fucker didn’t have to. There had to be another way. They…just hadn’t found it yet.”

And the asshole hadn’t said goodbye. At least Epsilon had—

“I mean, there was Epsilon after - Church Lite. Had all his memories and shit, so you know, that was cool. Not the same, but close. Still an asshole. But he…well, he’s not around anymore either.” Easier to say than the truth, that he fucking sacrificed himself too, to save their asses. The pawn was turned over across his fingers as he leaned into her.

“It’s just really complicated, but I wasn’t around for that. Well, not Church. I was for Epsilon.”
vorbratta: (is it a condition)

[personal profile] vorbratta 2017-02-23 01:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Sonia wrinkles her brow. "You mean an E.M.P.?"

But she doesn't linger on that topic, because she's still trying to sort out everything Tucker's unloading, names she doesn't know, things she has no reference point for. But she tries, patiently listening, her hand going to Tucker's arm in a gesture of sympathy.

"I didn't know you had artificial intelligence that advanced." It's basically not a thing in this world, really. She tries to keep up, if only so as not to look like a complete idiot in front of Tucker, because dammit, she's Betan-educated. "What were the fragments? Other AI? And why did that stop Maine -- um, the Meta?"

She realizes she's needling him with questions and she sits back, blowing her breath out. Her expression sobers. "Sorry, I'm just -- I'm sorry. I can't even imagine what it must be like to lose somebody twice."
durango: (no)

[personal profile] durango 2017-02-23 01:58 pm (UTC)(link)
Fortunately, Deanna proves to be much better at moving quietly through man-made structures than she is through the snow - she's not entirely without experience after all. Not knowing exactly what she's searching for, the first thing she is going to do is hunt down a computer terminal. It's not long before she finds one stationed in the wall near a set of stairs.

Automatically, she says, "Computer," in an attempt to activate it before remembering that's not how things work here. With a small sigh, she taps the screen, bringing the console to life.
lovernotafighter: (Well this sucks)

[personal profile] lovernotafighter 2017-02-23 02:15 pm (UTC)(link)
“Yeah, that’s what I said. Emp.”

Look, he understood it was a lot to unpack; fake wars, Sim Troopers, and don’t get him started on dramatic Freelancers because half of that shit even he still didn’t understand. When Wash and Carolina and Epsilon felt like talking about it, he always listened, but he didn’t push it either; living in the past sucked, kept you focused on the same mistakes again and again while the What Ifs strangled you. He didn’t want it for them. Hell, he didn’t want it for anyone.

So when they wanted to talk, he could listen. Sometimes. And there were a lot of stupid questions he threw at them, mostly about possible Freelancer sex parties (“Come on, I know you had at least one!! Just admit it!”) and the proud fact that he was still the only sword user. But beyond that? Yeah, sometimes Tucker wasn’t so bad. There was a reason why Wash and Carolina stuck around after all.

“I mean, it’s pretty impressive if you think about it, but Carolina can tell you a hell of a lot more about it than I can.” He set the pawn down and rested his head against hers. It hurt talking about this, but it was calming him, too, sanding down the edges to something smoother, touchable. “Um, they were fragments of Chur—the Alpha. Pieces of him that split off.” He didn’t go into why they had split, didn’t want to talk about Epsilon and – “The Meta was collecting them, so the emp wiped them all out. I don’t fucking know beyond that. He’s an asshole.”

Right? Right. Simple. He frowned a little more.

He felt her breathe, and he breathed with her. “It sucks. I mean, they’re not the same but they are? And that asshole did it to save us but it doesn’t matter. What’s the point if he’s not around there to annoy us after? And Caboose always goes a little crazy when Church does this shit, so trying to take of him after is a pain and I'll need help.”
sibearian: (i have a gun on each arm)

[personal profile] sibearian 2017-02-23 02:19 pm (UTC)(link)
"Ha! That would not be the first time!"

She continues walking in silence for a few moments at Sonia's comment.

"The last ten years... this war has not just recently started, then. I had thought perhaps it was within the last year or so."
shri: (» our visions turned too cold)

[personal profile] shri 2017-02-23 02:25 pm (UTC)(link)
[ She lets him keep going and she - well, wished she could divest herself of these clothes to sparr him earnestly. He is good, not when blades perhaps, but with just his bare hands it would plenty interesting for both of them. He would be stronger, naturally, but she would be faster - and they could see whose knees went out from under them first.

Especially with how careful he is. How meticulous he goes again and again - ten years with it and he'd be something magnificent. Did they wait so long now? Well, he certainly acquitted himself decently, whoever had trained him and whenever he had started. Gave him the important kind of habits that served now just as much.

She gives him a nod, and a smile brief and light even if it's a little too tired even now, even when she's more comfortable ( or as comfortable as she can be ), but it's important to encourage. Praise comes easy for good work at least.
]

Well done.

[ The next part, at least, she can take off the shoes for. The plain brown slippers, the same brocade pattern as her dress. Stretching out on bare feet in the way she had begun her training, and make it easier to show him as she lifts up the edge of the robes. Gathering material slowly in her fingers.

There, just below her toes, are just what she warned him of: faint white lines where she'd dropped her own blades just the same. Balancing her weight briefly as she stepped toward him and slipped into the same stance as him in front of him.
]

I presume you at least dance, Washington?

[ Natural assumptions, really, any decent warrior knew how to move his feet at the most basic level. ]
vorbratta: (you're an ordinary citizen)

[personal profile] vorbratta 2017-02-23 02:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Emp? Yeah, okay, she's not even going to bother with that one.

"One of your teammates?" Sonia guesses at the mention of Caboose. She lets Tucker lean against and her and she leans back, trying to be some kind of support. She tries, but this is something her sister has always been so much better at -- a pillar of strength. But Sonia can try.

She's starting to put some of the pieces together from Tucker's disjointed explanations, and it adds to a very, very big picture. Whatever it is he's involved in at home, it's no small matter.

"And Freelancer is some kind of military program?" Another guess, but an educated one. No, she'll ask Carolina about that. She's pretty sure Carolina will give her a real answer, after Tucker's mentioned it. She draws in a breath, trying to focus on what seems to really be important here.

"So...Church, your friend...he was protecting you?"
vorrutyer: (attentive)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-23 02:46 pm (UTC)(link)
"Madam." He bows, his hand pressed to his heart. He twitches his cuffs back into place, and then waits expectantly - and then realizes that she is expecting him to move. Now that she's raised the prospect of murder, he wonders if she's going to cut his throat from behind - content that she's safe and the disease is contained, eliminate the only other keeper of this secret...Hah. Wouldn't that be a way to go? Slaughtered by a child in revenge for doing something decently kind. Marvelous. It'd certainly put one in the eye of Lady Alys, who had warned him strenuously many many times that if he kept taking unnecessary risks, he'd end up murdered by one of his targets...

He steps out first, leaving the glade, looking for all intents and purposes as though he's going for a casual stroll.
omniavincit: (a savor of blood)

[personal profile] omniavincit 2017-02-23 03:06 pm (UTC)(link)
If it were someone else across from him, he'd assume they were being snippy. Not Beth, though. All it takes is picturing her down at the stables, greeting the horses by name, to remember how young she is.

She's practically a kid.

"You can tell me to shut up," he says, smile shading towards wry. "I won't hold it against you."

His own fork had been suspended in his fingers; now, without making a show of it, he resumes eating.
littlemissfutility: (56)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-02-23 03:08 pm (UTC)(link)
There are several awkward moments in which neither of them takes a step, moments in which Beth realizes uncomfortably that maybe he doesn't trust her, either. It's probably smart not to--she brought a sword with her for this meeting, and she could have brought disease to his entire planet--but it still disquiets her. She'd much rather if Byerly trusted her, and she'd just...not trust him back. Not entirely, anyway. How do you trust someone who lies that much?

That's not how trust works. You can't expect somebody to believe you when you don't believe him.

But it doesn't stop her from wanting it.

He breaks first, turning to go, and she follows. She can't decide if she wants silence or conversation, or if she just wants him to understand without her having to say anything. (Already, she can imagine what he'd think of that. Really, Miss Greene, it would behoove you to stop demanding this nonsense. Am I to be a mind reader now?) But she's not sure she has a way to say I'm not going to kill you, not if you don't hurt anybody, and even then, if there's another way... that isn't...well, that.

So eventually, when they're getting close to the camp proper, all she says is, "Somebody probably ate the rest of your horse."
vorrutyer: (punchable eyebrow)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-23 03:37 pm (UTC)(link)
"Thank God," he sighs without so much as missing a beat. As though they haven't just been silent for the past however many minutes, as though he's just taking his own turn in the conversation.

"Foul stuff. I told you I didn't want it. It could have been yours, you know, if you'd gone for it."
lovernotafighter: (W-T-FUCK)

[personal profile] lovernotafighter 2017-02-23 03:47 pm (UTC)(link)
“Yeah. Caboose is –“ special “—annoying as hell and tends to kill people on his own team, so the fact that I’ve survived this long with him is a miracle.” Freckles made it a little bit easier, at least; Tucker didn’t realize how often Caboose’s finger slipped until he watched how much confetti that damn gun went through. He was sick as hell of cleaning it up.

Not…that it was exactly a problem right now.

But seriously, for the way he was talking about Caboose, he probably should have sounded angrier, more annoyed; instead there was a sense of fondness that was buried under the surface of exasperated memories that rose to the surface. It was a mix. Everything about their stupid team was a problem and a mix.

A headache. They were all fucking headaches. But that’s what family was.

“Yeah. It’s gone now; Carolina and Wash and the rest of us helped take it down, so it doesn’t exactly exist anymore. The thing was bullshit, all of it, but…yeah, ask Carolina about that, too. That’s kind of her deal. I’d say ask Wash, too, but…” But he wasn’t here. He was at the Ceta. He was left ther—

His frown deepened a little, shoulders tight, not liking this. Not liking any of this.

“Yeah. I mean, sure, but that’s just it: he shouldn’t have died to fucking do it.” It sounded noble when she said it, and he didn’t want it to. He wanted to be angry at it because it was a hell of a lot easier than being sad, than going through those fucking motions all over again. “I’m just fucking sick of him dying. It’s bullshit!”

He hung his head, huffing in a way that formed the little breath to be clouds in front of his face, half obscured by blankets. Annoyed. It showed throughout him.

“Hey, Sonia. If someone is on the other side of this battle, are they, like, going to be okay? Or should I be worried about them?”
symmetricks: (pic#11019142)

[personal profile] symmetricks 2017-02-23 04:57 pm (UTC)(link)
You almost sound as though you admire their stubbornness.

[ One eyebrow crooks higher as she regards Wash steadily. Everyone has an opinion on the war, of course, but so far as she can tell there's only one right opinion to have. ]

To continue to scrape a living out of the soil of this planet? Imagine if they were to go from huts and shacks to this.

[ She gestures around them. It's a far cry from anything she's seen elsewhere on the planet. ]

Proper education, hygiene, proper shelters even, the Cetagandans could better their lives immensely, if they weren't so set on fighting progress.
terrifyingrenegade: (Zzzz)

[personal profile] terrifyingrenegade 2017-02-23 05:03 pm (UTC)(link)
At the sounds of movement, Pearl cracks an eye open, only to see empty air where, moments ago, a huge orange wall of quartz had been.

"Jasper?" She says, sitting up a little, brows knitted with confusion. Gone. Hm.

Pearl has to push down a queasy feeling gripping her chest, one that she can't quite nail down the source of. Maybe it's guilt. Maybe it's just that, somehow, it's even more anxiety inducing to know that Jasper is riled and lurking somewhere nearby than it was to have her occupying the literal same room.

Regardless, Pearl can't resist the urge to sleep any longer. Despite feeling so ill at ease, after a few minutes she concedes to put her head down, and is almost immediately out cold.
terrifyingrenegade: (Default)

[personal profile] terrifyingrenegade 2017-02-23 05:23 pm (UTC)(link)
At this point, Pearl is kind of slouched over the table with her head in one hand, the other fidgeting distractedly. "You misunderstand. The war has been over for thousand and thousands of years," she explains, chuckling. "We beat Homeworld back, saved the Earth, and have been defending it ever since."
mirrortide: (074)

[personal profile] mirrortide 2017-02-23 05:30 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yeah, but isn't there only four of you left from the original Crystal Gems? You lost a lot of your group." Lapis clicks her tongue dismissively. It's not really a question, more just a statement because she knows exactly how bad their losses were.

Meanwhile, Homeworld seemed just fine and dandy from the time she was there.