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.
vorrutyer: (sweaty)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-07 02:53 pm (UTC)(link)
[ And By touches his lips to the bottle himself - keeps his eyes firmly on Maine's as he drinks himself, unblinking. And then he angles his body to block the view from the other tents - not much of a risk, here, this far from camp, at this angle, but it wouldn't do to be seen. And he reaches out and slips his hand under the other man's coat.

There is a risk here, of course. God knows. It certainly isn't out of the realm of possibility that the man will turn feral after this, attack By for misinterpreting the signs - some people, on the brink of fulfilling their desires, find themselves consumed with terror. And, therefore, aggression. But it's worth it, he thinks. Sex is a way to get your hooks in people, the act of physical intimacy inevitably engendering some emotional intimacy. Can't get information from someone? Amazing what they'll say once you've seen them vulnerable. It's one of his tried and true strategies, along with get them drunk and pretend to be passed out while other people are talking.

And besides that...God, he's so cold. He'd like to feel a bit of warmth. And Maine seems warm.

So he slips his hand under his coat - and then withdraws just a bit to strip off his glove. And then he goes again, sliding his now-bare skin there, trying to find his way under his shirt to touch his stomach. ]
traitorous: (BECKON.)

[personal profile] traitorous 2017-02-07 05:42 pm (UTC)(link)
[ the first brush of byerly's hand across his stomach has his muscles flexing, a slight rippling from abdomen to belly brought on not by the intimacy of his touch but from the chill of his fingers against maine's hot ( always hot; he's 7 feet of carefully crafted muscle and bulk, a burning furnace in the wintry cold ) skin. he's remarkably still otherwise, statuesque and breathing evenly, watching everything from the purse of byerly's mouth to the way he angles his body as if attempting to block any potential passerby from the view.

he tries to remember the last time he was touched like this – months ago, on leave, a warm body in a spaceport bar, nameless. he tries to remember the last time he was approached like this – years ago, before freelancer, or maybe only weeks ago when he arrived to barrayar, rani kneeling too close as she offered him her scarf, falling forward into his arms to stop him from attacking the barrayan soldiers a second time.

byerly isn't like rani ( no one is like rani, he's sure ), or any person he's fucked and touched. he's pretty, with an aristocratic face, sharp features and long lashes and a smart mouth that probably only rarely stops talking. maine wonders if he has calluses, if he's killed anyone.

a few seconds pass. maine traces the shape of his jaw with the back of his fingers, stroking under his chin to feather his knuckles across his neck. another second, another pause, another warning, and then he's moving all at once, hooking a hand under his jaw to push his head back, mouth on his throat, teeth and tongue against his pulse. his free hand slides between his thighs, curling high up on one of his legs and squeezing firmly.
]
vorrutyer: (Backpfeifengesicht 5)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-07 05:55 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Oh. Shit. Shit. A small noise of surprised pleasure escapes Byerly's throat - at how thrilling the contact is, yes, but also at how hot his mouth is. Hell, he'd kiss the man a hundred times just for that heat. It's the first touch of anything except aching chill in weeks - even Sonia's hands had been cool by comparison to this burning heat.

He pulls back. Shudders with jittery pleasure when Maine squeezes his leg, giving a groan of sheer approval. He hates the way the spit on his skin chills at once. Wants more closeness, more hard teeth and forceful confidence. How marvelous is it, being with someone confident? Someone who doesn't seem ashamed? Someone, though, who clearly doesn't understand this place. ]


Not where people can see.

[ He reaches up to smooth back and adjust his hair. His breath has quickened. ]

We need to find somewhere - private. There's a cave. A quarter kilometer from here.
traitorous: (MORTAL.)

[personal profile] traitorous 2017-02-08 03:16 am (UTC)(link)
[ maine doesn't often anguish over the loss of his voice, but during tenser moments like these he sometimes wishes he could still talk properly. he exhales, exasperated, and looks past byerly to give the empty area a sweeping once-over. when he looks back at him, his brows furrow accusingly. you started this, is what that look ( hopefully ) says. maine was only being proactive.

his hand slides an inch higher on his leg, squeezing firmly a second time, and then all at once — again, because maine works in wide, sprawling strides and not tiny steps — he pulls away, hefting himself onto his feet.

he turns once he's indulged in a lazy, arching stretch, offering byerly his arm. up you go, then, if you're serious.
]
vorrutyer: (punchable eyebrow)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-08 12:35 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The paranoid part of By's brain, the part that absorbed those ImpSec special courses just a little bit too well, thinks that this would be an excellent opportunity to assassinate Maine. With as huge and ferocious as the man is, he's almost certainly untouchable on the battlefield - particularly since the great equalizers that are nerve disruptor and plasma arc simply aren't available to the Barrayaran forces. The only way one could kill him would be by blade. And he could fend off swords. But a little knife, slipped through the bone and sinew in a cave, in the dark...

Well. Byerly doesn't want the man dead. And anyway, that's all a terribly phallic line of thinking, penetration and spilled fluids, and he's much fonder of other phallic ways of thinking. Which are, presently, quite a bit more relevant than backstabbing and murders.

And so, with exaggerated elegance, he places his bare hand (less impeccably manicured than usual, damn this camp) on Maine's arm and uses it to lever himself upright. A lazy, sweeping salute thanks him for his service, and then he steps out and takes the lead. Damn, but those touches were - good. Needed. His blood is still flowing.

The walk to the cave is indeed brief. They're there within only a few minutes, and as they approach By wheels suddenly and presses his own mouth against Maine's throat. If you're serious. Take that. ]
traitorous: ( commissioned / dns ) (Default)

[personal profile] traitorous 2017-02-08 08:58 pm (UTC)(link)
[ cont. for nsfw shenanigans. abandon all hope, ye who enter here. ]