For Barrayar mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
barrayarmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
forbarrayar2017-02-02 08:00 pm
barrayarmods) wrote in forbarrayar2017-02-02 08:00 pm
Entry tags:
- !event,
- #barrayaran camp,
- #cetagandan base,
- *diya d'zefyst,
- *olivia vorkosigan,
- *piotr vorkosigan,
- *sonia vorbarra,
- *zahal ghem-zefyst,
- agent maine | traitorous,
- beth greene | littlemissfutility,
- kaidan alenko | standsentinel,
- lakshmi bai | shri,
- lapis lazuli | mirrortide,
- ratchet | asafepairofhands
[ 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.
What: New arrivals, desperate times, whispers down the hall.
When: February 1st - 18th
Where: Barrayaran camp / Cetagandan base
Warnings: TBD
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.
no subject
Of course there's a beach. It's an entire planet, of course. The whole of Barrayar isn't covered by mountains. [ He gives a winsome little sigh - ] As a matter of fact, my own home District has some truly famed and beautiful beaches.
no subject
Of course, there was that one time where he told that guy that he was sleeping with his girlfriend. He seemed pretty mad about that truth.
Still, when this came about? That there's beaches, and not just beaches but beautiful beaches, Tucker suddenly understood that anger. Well, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.]
So let me get this straight. [And he sat up, brown eyes staring at this guy like he was insane. Maybe he was, which would be just his luck.] You have a home with "beautiful" beaches which probably have beautiful women in tiny bikinis- [unless they're nude beaches and then WTheF, dude] - and you're here? In nipple-knife cold? Why?
[Because he still didn't get it. At. All.]
no subject
[ But, regardless - ]
But yes, here I am, in spite of it all. Don't I strike you as a marvelous patriot? Quite the hero? Aren't you impressed?
no subject
What the fuck is a bathing gown?
[Please don't let it be what he was thinking, whole dresses that women wore to the beach, that women swam in, that women wrapped themselves in and apparently fucking drowned in?! How the hell could they topless-sunbathe in a goddamn dress? How could they slow-mo run into the water ala Baywatch in a dress? ]
Look, bikinis are the best reason to go to a beach! A dress has no place twenty miles close to one, unless it's totally just a ploy to give women mouth-to-mouth when they almost drown, and dude, even for me that's going too far. [There was a look of pity written on his face; above all else, this was the most horrific thing he had ever heard of his entire life, even more than when he was told he was pregnant. Pretty damn sad.]
Let me tell you, that is a reason to fight a war right there, to keep women out of bathing gowns.
[Impressed? Tucker wasn't exactly impressed of anyone who joined in a military; why should he be? That was Simmons' job, to get all moony-eyed over officers and ranks and people who kept chore charts. Tucker just showed up.]
Not really. I mean, anyone can be in a war; that doesn't make you a hero. Shit, they let Caboose in and gave him a gun, so standards aren't exactly high.
no subject
Oh, yes, terrible thing, that. So...do tell; what would you do to get to kiss a woman, then?
no subject
Hey, hey, hey, if you want to learn how to get chicks, you need to sign up for the lessons. I don't give out my advice for free unless you're a friend. Those are tried and true, time honored secrets, you know; in the wrong hands, an orgy of huge proportions could happen, and no one person -other than me- should have that kind of power.
[Unless you're his best friend-slash-teammate who was totally helpless with his horribly violent Freelancer lady, but whatever, dude, that didn't count. It's what people did for one another; they alone were allowed to have lessons from Professor Fuck. This guy who he never met before, who was here instead of down at beach, who was asking if he was a hero? Nope. He had to pay.]
Why, did you hear about one who wants me to make out with them?
[And sometimes, that payment came in knowledge of women who wouldn't mind kissing him.]
no subject
I'm afraid that I don't give out my information for free...unless you're a friend.
no subject
Tucker had learned his lesson once, and he wasn't about to fall for the same shit again. But, to be fair, he pretty much had this feeling since he arrived.]
Well, can't be friends without knowing your name. [He didn't hold out his hand, but he did tilt his head to the side a little, that same smirk playing at his lips.] Tucker. Or, you know, Chosen One, Best in Bed, Professor Fuck, or Ladykiller. Wait, scratch that last one; it makes me sound like a serial murderer.
[The curve of an eyebrow arched high.] And your name, dude?
no subject
Byerly Vlad Vorrutyer, at your service.
[ And then he straightens up again and asks, his voice perfectly ingenuous - ]
So your full name, then - You'll be...Dr. Tucker Fuck? I'm impressed - you seem young to have a doctorate already.
no subject
However, even Tucker couldn't keep the half-smile from his lips at that Dr. Tucker Fuck because yeah, that'd be cool, but his son's name would be Junior Fuck, and who the hell would name their kid something that devastatingly embarrassing? Even he had standards; those other classmates would rip him apart, until he physically actually ripped them apart back. Nope.]
Uh, no, dude; Professor Fuck is my teacher name. Tucker's my name. Lavernius Tucker. [At least someone was going to know it, looking at you, Church!] But you know how military works. [First names were pretty much for presenting the dead, so not really used between them.
Also, don't expect a fancy half-bow. He just nodded and looked around.] My doctorate is from an online class I made so I could charge more. Still super effective, though; teaches you how to bang everything from a crazy Freelancer chick to a nun.
no subject
I see. [ He strokes his moustache and asks - ] So then...it sounds as though you are a true seducer of women. How did you learn such a remarkable skillset?
no subject
Years of military B.S., and he'd sure as shit love to chat about boning chicks over how and why to kill people. Who wouldn't?]
DNA. I was born this great. [He sure as shit didn't learn it from his dad who walked out on them, but that wasn't neither here nor there.] My kid's just as gifted; he got all his charm from my side of the family.
[Yeah, let that sink in: there's another one of these guys running around. He procreated. Scary. Either way, he spread his arms wide, shrugging.]
Some things you can only be born with, you know? [His chin cocked upwards a hair.] How did you get a beach?
no subject
[ Blonde, curvy, and beautiful, each one of them. By imagines this idiot trying out these unsubtle lines on them and being broken over their charmingly dimpled knees. Cute. ]
So charm, then, is a genetic inheritance? Fascinating. I've never heard of such a thing. I should think the Cetagandans would be quite interested to hear that - they're always working on engineering the next super-human.
no subject
So, is that why you're in this frozen fucktown? Because you got kicked out? What'd you do to piss them off? [Tucker knew something about pissing people off and getting sent the fuck out; he swore that chick was totally legal. Really. She said she was anyway, and what was he supposed to do, card her?
Wait, what's this about Koudelka girls?] Tell me a little more about these K-chicks, why don't you? [He smiled, a little bright, a little eyebrow waggle, and hey, he wasn't exactly against going over a lady's knee, bow chicka bow wow.]
Look, you can't just build another me; that'd be way too much for science to handle. Besides, I'm the Chosen One, so you know, it just doesn't work like that. What I can tell you is that I have a patented class that makes women swoon, and for six installments of nineteen-ninety-nine, I can totally teach you, too.
no subject
[ He turns an arch smile on Tucker, then sits back. ]
So who's chosen you? And for what? If the story is good, then I'll tell you all about the Koudelkas. You must understand, the Flowers of Vorbarr Sultana cannot be spoken of lightly. Information must be traded.
no subject
Well, fuck it. Won't hurt unless you try.] What did you do to get kicked out?
[And then came the question he was used to answering. How much detail he wanted to go into was still up in the air; talking about Junior made him happy, made him proud, but telling people he was the kinda-sorta mother of an alien led to...complications. More questions. More explanations than he wanted to do. Single dad worked, but that led to other inquiries, and yeah. Yeah.
Maybe just the basics right now, and Junior? He could come up later.] The aliens back home, the Sangheili? Yeah, prophecy fulfilled blah blah, but hey, got a kick ass sword that's really a key. Pretty awesome, though I had to be a diplomat between them and the humans, which is about as boring as it sounds. You know what doesn't get you dates? Being a diplomat. Everyone's so uptight. [This guy, this guy right here, was a diplomat. Let that sink in for a moment.]
Good enough?
no subject
[ This is an expertly-told lie. He sounds cheery about it. ]
Anyway. So being the Chosen One is literally having been hired for a particular job? Underwhelming.
no subject
No one else told you? No one at all? Not your mom or shit?
[If he had one? Who knew. But a shady past held shady shit, and even well-told stories could be lit with lies. Whatever, he couldn’t sit and just second guess himself and this guy; he just needed to find shit out on his own. Direct questions rarely found anything.
And hey, don’t discount being the Chosen One! Because it wasn’t just a job, it was a responsibility…which yeah, that part sucked, but there were perks.]
Dude, it’s totally not like that, and screw you for thinking it is! It gave me a kid, and the best fucking kid in the galaxy and if I had my wallet I’d show you his basketball picture but-- [He trailed off, frowning a little because he missed that picture. He missed his kid, couldn’t remember when the last time he saw him was. Before Chorus. Fuck. Fuck.]
It wasn’t a job, okay? It…It just wasn’t.
no subject
Oh, I'm sure Mamere was drunk by that time, too. It happened in the afternoon, after all. So do tell me more about this child of yours.
[ That seems like a safe way to kill the man's curiosity. That's the lovely thing about parents. They're just so...obsessed. It's disgusting, and something that makes him itch with disgust, but you can always count on them to get all caught up in discussing their brats instead of asking uncomfortable questions. ]
Boy? Girl? Hermaphrodite? Quaddie? None of the above? How tall? How smart?
no subject
[Nope, didn't kill it, but did quiet it up a little, because dude, seriously? He could tell what this guy was doing. So, he didn't want to talk about what had him up here; okay, but that sure as hell didn't tell Tucker why he was really fighting. Not...exactly. And the whole thing wasn't inspiring him to get on this side either.
But damn right, he would talk about his kid, because he was a proud dad, and it showed when he smiled.]
Shit it's been awhile since I've seen him because of the whole war thing. I think Junior's about six and a half, maybe seven feet tall now? His basketball team made championships this year, but he keeps getting fouled for eating the ball. Can you fucking believe that shit? Like they've never seen a kid with mandibles before, shit.
no subject
I'm sorry, if I can take a moment to clarify. Your...son is seven feet tall and has mandibles.
no subject
Yeah, his kid is a lot better topic.]
My son is awesome and seven feet tall and has mandibles, yeah. You forgot the awesome part. [Which, of course, some might argue was subjective, but fuck 'em. He knew what he was talking about, and his kid was damn smart and was pretty talented and just one of a kind. Hello, human alien hybrid?]
Here, you've got a pencil and paper? I don't have his picture, but I can draw him for you. [Just...not exceptionally well. His drawing skills were more reserved for drawing dicks in the margins of his mission reports.]
no subject
[ He reaches up to cover his mouth - partially, at least, to hide his faint smile of incredulity. This is absolutely insane. Beyond insane. It's...delightful. ]
You'll have to continue - hm - painting me a picture with words, as it were. Is your child, ah...human?
no subject
Tucker stared at him, knowing the guy was mocking him and wishing he had his picture more than anything just so he could show him some definitive piece of proof. Guy probably thought he was crazy. He wasn't; he had the scars to prove it, but damn if he was showing them off in this frozen wasteland.]
I don't know, dude, do you have fucking mandibles? Huh? No? Then what do you think? [There was an exaggerated roll of those brown eyes as he shrugged.] He's an alien. Well, like, half alien, half human, but he's my kid, so whatever.
That was the part of the Chosen One that they didn't warn you about. But it's fine; I'm more badass than I was before, I got an awesome kid, and cool sword. It works.
no subject
[ By, widening his eyes in (perhaps mock-)interest, leans forward. ]
Tell me, what was it like? How on earth did you manage it? What do mandibles feel like on the bare skin?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)