barrayarmods: (Default)
For Barrayar mods ([personal profile] barrayarmods) wrote in [community profile] forbarrayar2017-02-18 03:21 pm

[ february ii log ]

Who: Everyone
What: Traitors exposed, celebrations had, sleight hands passing cards under the table. And so begin the preparations for what is soon to come.
When: February 18th - 28th
Where: Barrayaran camp / Cetagandan base
Warnings: Torture (interrogations thread)

Quick links:
Riverfall
Barrayar: Barrayaran camp / Party / Missions
Cetaganda: Cetagandan base / Moon-poetry party / Missions


The harsh weather rages on, which temperatures still averaging far below freezing, and the wind is still strong. But things are a little less dire for the outsiders, and for the exotics -- well, they have their own chills to deal with.

riverfall
Riverfall village is your typical Dendarii mountain village, which means it's small, humble, and mostly poor. This is the most rural of the rural around here, a little backwater even by Barrayaran standards. Most of the villagers live in houses of wood and stone built themselves or by ancestors. Despite the cold, there are plenty of people outside at any given time -- working, mostly, because the daily grind stops for no one, but even the occasional group of children taken over by fits of cabin fever. The village is built up against a rocky mountain face, from the top of which the eponymous waterfall flows into the river that borders the west edge of the village and continues down the mountain. The place isn't exactly hidden, but if you don't know your way around, it'd be hard to find without a native guide.

The villagers are wary of the outsiders at first, even more than the soldiers had been -- the rural Dendarii are as superstitious as they come -- but, slowly convinced of their good intentions, start to warm to them. They're a blunt, hardy people, largely uneducated and tending toward the most extreme of Barrayaran sensibilities, but they are undeniably fierce. The General Count trusts them, so they'll be more or less civil (by Barrayaran standards, anyway), but you might catch the occasional scrutinizing, watchful stare. With Cetagandans in camp and exotics among them, they border on hostile, especially those who are visibly nonhuman. They keep their heads down enough to keep from getting into trouble with the soldiers, but they do not like you at all.

Not everyone in Riverfall speaks English -- Russian is everyone's first language, and only about half the village has any passable command of English. Thankfully, the village's Speaker Yakiv Gura speaks English, if heavily accented. They're clearly stretching to the limit to help the camp, but to the Dendarii, there's no higher act than one in the Count's service, especially when it comes to fighting this war.

barrayar
Even after scoring themselves a little extra food, morale in the camp is at an all-time low. The miserably dangerous weather hasn't let up, food is still heavily rationed, and everyone is still at least a little tired, cold, and hungry all of the time. It doesn't help that they've lost a few soldiers in the last couple of weeks, and in Riverfall, too, some villagers have died of the cold despite their relative warmth and safety, mostly children. This is hardly the first harsh winter they've faced, but that doesn't stop the inexorable loss that comes with it. Some villagers may be somberly putting their loved ones to rest in the village graveyard when the outsiders are in town.

But Piotr finally calls Negri out as a spy sent by his aide-de-camp Captain Ezar Vorbarra, partly to deliver a message and partly to test Piotr, because Ezar loves coy bullshit. However, he does learn that both Ezar and Prince Xav Vorbarra, Olivia and Sonia's father, are en route to Vorkosigan's District with relief supplies from Beta Colony secured by Xav's ambassadorial connections and tireless lobbying. Once Piotr judges it safe to release this information, it bring with it a bit of hope -- and to seal the deal, Piotr and Olivia arrange a celebration of sorts in the village.

Finally outing the ring of reason in the camp helps to bolster morale, too. Vorhalas is interrogated, and the names of his co-conspirators are revealed: Lieutenant Boris Vortala, who killed himself in disgrace shortly after his fast-penta interrogation at ghem-General Zefyst's hand, and their commander Captain Aaron Vorbataille. Vorbataille has, of course, already started to make his escape -- but with the help out of the outsiders, he won't get very far. Once Piotr is satisfied with Vorbataille's interrogation as well, both men are put to execution, but not by beheading as Doctor ghem-Miko: the sentence for treason is death by public starvation and exposure, and in this weather, it doesn't take long. They are publicly and emphatically denounced as traitors with no honor to speak of, sending a very clear message. Although this might seem like a gruesome sight to the outsiders, to the Barrayarans this is simply how it goes, and very few of them are sorry to see these traitors suffer, particularly as Vorhalas was the one responsible for their food shortage in the first place.

Reports from those soldiers and outsiders who were in the village at the same time as the Cetagandan field science team present the General Count with another troubling problem, however: the implications of the Cetagandans building a device that could control this phenomenon are terrifying, particularly to this threadbare resistance movement. But sabotage seems hardly a worthy solution, either. This is the only lead they have on sending the outsiders home, and so many of them have already put their lives on the line for the cause of a planet that otherwise nothing to most of them. There would be no honor in robbing them of their only chance to return home. But whether they should continue to allow the Cetagandans to proceed with their research or try to find a way to copy their plans themselves, a dubiously possible venture at best, weighs heavily on his mind. It only complicates his strategic concerns further, but by his military orders in the next couple of weeks, at least one thing is clear: he wants Cetagandan bodies.

camp
Morale is critically low among the soldiers, particularly after a few casualties during a recent skirmish with a Cetagandan patrol, but spirits definitely begin to lift with news of relief. The soldiers are now more or less accustomed to the outsiders' place in the camp, and they're even starting to become a little friendlier toward them, particularly those who've been involved in the war effort. They might invite outsiders to play card or dice games with them, or share a conversation over an admittedly meager meal, or better still, bond with them in the true Barrarayan form: over a lot of alcohol.

Negri has more or less built himself a niche in the camp, and doesn't look like he's going anywhere any time soon. But he isn't the only spy around. They desperately need a man on the inside, particularly with the troubling news about the wormhole device, and right now, that man is Byerly Vorrutyer. Starting next month, Piotr is sending him on assignment to infiltrate the Cetagandan base under the cover of a cowardly collaborator.

party
By the time they have the party on the 21st, the villagers have warmed up to the outsiders a little, but they don't really bond until the party. With what little they have to share, they scrape together as much of a feast as they can: not much, but by this month's standards, any hot meal prepared with fresh ingredients seems absolutely decadent. And because this is Barrayar there is, of course, plenty of liquor, that Barrayaran moonshine maple mead not the least among them, and there's no shortage of wine or vodka, either.

The hillfolk light lanterns all around the village and raise large tarps to cover the open center of the village where they usually hold gatherings. Inside, protected from the wind and lit by the bonfire and braziers placed around the perimeter, it's actually almost warm. Every villager who's ever laid hand to an instrument seems to gather there to play music all night long, an energetic mix of lively folk music and raucous drinking songs. Anyone with any musical talent would be welcome to join them as well. There's plenty of dancing, too, very little of it formal or complicated, but everyone's having a good time for the first time in weeks, maybe months, and the mood is infectious. By the end of the night, morale seems to have risen overall, and people in camp have something real to look forward to. The partygoing visitors are put up in warmed tents within the tarped village center or in the villagers' homes where they have room. Come morning, they'll head back, but for just one night, it's almost like there isn't even a war on.

missions
Outsiders have been assisting with moving supplies between the camp and Riverfall all throught he rest of the month, and it mostly goes smoothly. Vorbataille is caught on the 20th, although he and Vorhalas aren't publicly executed until a few days later, when Piotr is satisfied with the intelligence he's extracted. By the time he gets Vorbataille's name out of Vorhalas, the traitorous Captain has already fled -- but thanks to Carolina, Duv and Zarya, he's dragged back to camp for his interrogation.

That evening, Maine and William have the misfortune of encountering a dragon -- Darkstalker is on a mission with a Cetagandan patrol, and they run right smack into each other. A fight breaks out, but ultimately Darkstalker and the Cetagandans come out on top, and the outsiders and Barrayarans are forced to retreat -- but not before managing to kill a Cetagandan soldier or two, just barely escaping with one of the bodies.

Miles finds himself in a terrible position when a guard patrol shift goes horribly wrong in a skirmish against some Cetagandans, resulting in the death of their squad leader and a very ugly aftermath.

Zarya, William, Beth and Miles are in Riverfall with some Barrayaran soldiers on a supply run when a Cetagandan field science team arrives with a few exotics in tow. This is a rare chance to learn more about the Cetagandans' scientific exploits, and among other things, they find out that whatever it is that brought them here, the Cetagandan scientists are convincede it has something to do with the wormhole that collapsed 700 years ago.

The unabridged mission writeup is here.

cetaganda
The Cetagandans are a notoriously tight-lipped bunch, but they're blowing away most of the smoke surrounding their wormhole science research. As has been alluded, they're currently working on a device to harness the phenomenon that brought all the exotics here in the first place, and hopefully find a way to send them all home with it. They invite any exotics with scientific expertise to a series of interviews about neurology, astrophysics, and mechanical engineering. None of the advisement they receive helps to solve one of their most critical problems -- that of generating a Necklin field to match the one that must have surrounded each exotic -- but it certainly puts them closer to their goal, particularly in the area of neurology, and they're hardly going to stop there. But it's clear that the mathematicians and astrophysicists on base don't have sufficient expertise to solve the most complex equations before them. But on the brighter side of things, in the interest of this scientific exchange, they're letting the lab techs help a little more beyond just grunt work.

Meanwhile, the genetics project that seems so strange and arcane to the exotic carries on, largely behind the scenes, although Diya is increasingly at odds with her husband and even some of her senior staff, particularly the precocious Amai ghem-Soren. But there is very real purpose behind it -- and far more than just one -- and Diya d'Zefyst is a woman of great ambition. And more than anything else, she is haut.

Unfortunately, the relative peace on base is abruptly broken when Daryl, Lakshmi and Wash all manage to escape in a wild breakout attempt on the 25th. York and Ratchet are left behind, and as a result, some of their privileges revoked. They're now being watched a little more closely as a result.

base
Overall, despite simmering tensions under the surface and the miserable weather, life on base seems to be going more or less smoothly around them. The Cetagandans have had some recent victories against the Barrayarans, so morale is high. Unfortunately, after the breakout they begin cracking down on security with the exotics -- going back to treating the exotics a little more like they did when they first arrived. They aren't under guard, but after the 25th, they are being watched.

They still maintain that insistent veneer of civility, however, breaking only in cases where they feel the need or security risk is significant enough. The ghem on base remain overall cordial and courteous to the exotics as they ever were, which is to say considerably and always with a touch of smug superiority. With her success at the party earlier this month followed by her performance in the moon-poetry garden, the often-sequestered Amai ghem-Soren is seen more around the base.

moon-poetry party
The moon-poetry party is about three hours long and steeped in ceremony, each participant taking their turn to recite. This is, apparently, not a recitation of one's own work, but rather selections of classical Cetagandan poems, and in so referencing something culturally ubiquitous, each makes a statement in its mere selection and juxtapositions. If you pay close enough attention, you might notice that each participant has very subtly coordinated their outfits to further complement the theme of their recitation. Although there is a definite dignity to the party, it doesn't take much to pick up on the fact that this is yet another arena ghem use to try and socially one-up one another. Among the participants are both the Chief Medical Officer Colonel Faro ghem-Naru and Doctor Amai ghem-Soren, whose performance was especially well-received, the theme apparently being something about subtle passions.

missions
The science interviews with the exotics go more or less well, although not quite so hopeful as the Cetagandans were hoping. They do, however, learn some things about FTL travel in other worlds as well as other kinds of neural implants.

On the evening of the 21st, York, Natasha and Kaidan accidentally bear witness to what is clearly some kind of travesty: clearly a human being, but both overgrown and underdeveloped, and exhibiting powers of hydrokinesis and psychic empathy, referred to only as a ba.

On the 23rd, Jasper, Lapis, Pearl and Darkstalker accompany some soldiers and a field science team to Riverfall village, coinciding with a visit from some outsiders and soldiers. They encounter some outsiders while there but also pick up a bit on what it is the Cetagandans are doing -- that the Necklin field problem still remains their biggest problem, and they've been getting conflicting orders from the higher ups lately.

The unabridged mission writeup is here.

Note: Negri and Zahal are available for threads by request only this round. Please hit up Madi or Ammay respectively if you want threads with either of those NPCs. You can also request a thread with Village Speaker Yakiv Gura if you want, in which case hit up Madi.
protocol: (► and i am proud of my speech)

[personal profile] protocol 2017-03-10 03:13 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Dear creature. God. If Wash weren't so focused he could smile just at that, blatant foppish flattery and empty words, he really is good. But there's that crack, that slightest something, and Wash notices, of course he notices. It's barely anything. Barely enough for Wash to convince himself he's not seeing things, making up an enemy where there isn't one.

But he feels it, somehow, pinpricks across his skin -- Byerly is watching him just as carefully. ]


No. [ Little point lying about it when it's an easy lie to crack, Carolina's here, after all, and Maine if Byerly ever figured out how to speak to him beyond a quick fuck. ] I used to be more like you.

[ A hint maybe at where Byerly may have tipped his hand, in that he might have made some small slips, things that set a man like Wash on guard, but the fact is Wash knows what it is to play the fool. A careless shrug, his eyes flicking back to the fire, watching him, as always. ]

I guess I grew out of it.
vorrutyer: (satisfied (but smug))

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-03-10 04:09 pm (UTC)(link)
Now, that is sad. I hope you shan't take offense if I pity you. Growing up is no joy.

[ Byerly shrugs a careless shrug in return. He wonders how literal that is, how true that is. How much like me? Because there was a time when he was callow and lost and desperate in the capital, drinking until he vomited and using hyposprays without knowing what they contained, laughing hysterically at jokes that weren't funny, screwing bored and boring strangers with more passion and commitment than was sane. His trainwreck days, before his recruiter pulled him out of his tailspin. Before his recruiter taught him to harness that self-destruction and self-loathing for the greater glory of the Imperium.

Which Byerly is Wash claiming to have been like? The honest disaster that Byerly is presenting to him or the false disaster that he seems to see? Well - the falsified disaster; By wouldn't ever pretend not to be a bit of a disaster, truly, even if it's for a purpose now. But which is he trying to imply? ]


But I like this image of you. Or at least - I like what I'm imagining. So you drank, danced...
protocol: (► but before we get out of our club)

[personal profile] protocol 2017-03-10 04:26 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It's a deliberate kind of vague, though Wash still suspects it's at least slightly true, claiming to have been like him once upon a time even if his entire problem now is gauging who he is in the first place. A different way to dig, a different way to press and find what else he might say, get him talking about himself more, see how much of it is the disguise, how much of it is still a lie but propped up by some truth underneath.

Wash was never a partier. Never a drunk, never a dancer, never some wild and reckless thing but only because he learned early and young that the key to getting by was to keep all of his natural tendencies in careful, tight control and obfuscate it under a few layers of something else. What he sees here -- what he thinks he sees, and by god he still isn't sure -- is a damned liar, something vicious and sharp and it's own kind of ruthless under layers and layers of careless laughter and smiles, and he thinks they have that might have that much in common. ]


None taken. [ Another shrug. Wash tries to imagine what the man he thinks is beneath the lie must be thinking, has to be watching him the same way, wondering what about themselves might be similar, if anything, wondering if Wash has caught onto him at all or if Wash is just that suspicious, that miserable of a man. Neither are untrue, really. ] Drinking and dancing and puking my guts out into the nearest alley every other night.

[ Sarcasm. Or dry truth. Wash says it like it's both. ]

I made myself useful.
vorrutyer: (god honestly what is this guy's face)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-03-10 04:37 pm (UTC)(link)
[ That doesn't feel true. Not entirely. Byerly touches his chin and smiles and watches Wash like he's imagining the man cutting loose, but...No, it doesn't feel right. Not with what he's said about who he is and where he's come from. If war made him serious, if war convinced him that he had to be useful (or what? have his throat cut? be turned out? starve?) then it would have done so early. Easy conclusion, that, breadcrumbs scattered for By to find.

No. So I was like you isn't speaking to Byerly-the-jester. It's speaking to Byerly-the-liar. Strange to imagine that, too, the serious taciturn man playing the clown...Perhaps his was a different sort of clowning. A different sort of lying. After all, there are a hundred thousand different ways to deflect attention, hundreds of roles to play. Even normal people, people who aren't spies, do that sort of thing. Construct lies, hide behind masks. But what Wash is hinting at seems to go beyond that.

So if he's speaking to a man like him...Some strange impulse towards honesty draws an honest comment out of him. ]


Sounds exhausting.

[ On the surface, it could simply be commenting on the partying and the puking. Byerly wouldn't make a comment without having that safeguard of the logical interpretation. But below that, underneath, it's something truer. This job gets to him. It wears him down. The double-thinking and triple-thinking, the paranoia, the constant playacting...It gets to him. ]

Is that why you grew out of it? Lost the energy for it?
protocol: (► and who is the rabbit)

[personal profile] protocol 2017-03-10 05:01 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Wash is nothing if not tired. Always, always tired.

It's a simple, physical truth, in one part. He barely sleeps, he doesn't sleep, the better part of a decade and he's found the only way to keep the nightmares at bay is just to not give them a chance to come. He throws himself into everything he does wholly and fully, works himself to the bone, and of course he's tired there, too, even if he never feels like he does enough. There's his long memory, so his mother used to call it, how Wash still remembers everyone who's wronged him even years and years in the past, lets it burn and rage until it boils over, and that's tiring too. And the lying? By god, the lying was the most exhausting of all. The first time he'd really snapped, the first time he let it all go, it'd been as vicious and ugly as it was inevitable.

The lying he's put behind him, for the most part -- there are different lies, letting his friends believe that he's a changed man rather than this being always who he was, the secrets he still guards fiercely and will never let go. But even if the exhaustion of constantly maintaining a front is gone, the paranoia and tendency to see knives everywhere in the dark has only grown worse, if anything else. And that's tiring. That's always tiring.

If this is the liar that's speaking to him now, Wash can answer him in turn. ]


It is. [ It's almost sympathetic. He sees that smile on him, like he's imagining Wash drunk and dancing in the streets, and Wash takes that as an excuse to smile a little back in turn. ] I don't envy you for that.

[ He was never as good as you are, and it drained him all the same. A pause, at the question, before he answers again; ] Like I've said, Byerly. I just made myself useful.

[ On the surface, all that means is he grew out of the fool and into the soldier -- or he found something different to lie for, found something to funnel all his purpose towards other than his own damned misery, and at least on that front what he'd done in the end had been, ah, mostly successful. And now, let his friends be trusting, let his friends move on. He'll be the one who remembers. He'll be the one who sees watches every shadow, the one who guards their secrets, and the one who'll drive himself into the ground doing it. A tip of his head. ]

I'm sure you'll find your own ways to fight.

[ Or you've already found it, you damned liar. ]
vorrutyer: (wry)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-03-10 05:13 pm (UTC)(link)
Or I'll run screaming into the night.

[ He laughs easily as he says that. Playing the fop again - but the fop might not really acknowledge that topic shift, might not acknowledge the link between the exhaustion-over-late-nights and finding-a-way-to-fight. But Byerly doesn't fight it or question it. Just laughs it off.

You suspicious, paranoid fucker, Washington. Fine. Here I am. But you still don't know what I am, and you won't. But the slight - very slight - not-full-dishonesty...Well, he does get tired. ]


Find some snowbank and freeze in it. You'll find my corpse - [ He holds up his hands, crooked into talons, and makes a ghastly face. Then he drops his hands and laughs again. ] Sometimes it seems like that'd be easier than all this endless mucking out stables. I'd do just about anything to never see horseshit again.

[ And then he touches a forelock, and intones to Wash: ]

My earnest hopes that you will find a way to be useful here as you were before. With the leadership in this camp, it might not be easy.
protocol: (► mysterious as the dark long of a shoe)

[personal profile] protocol 2017-03-10 05:38 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He doubts he'll figure it out any time soon, no. But Wash thinks he will. He's good at that. Some part of him still isn't sure, endless self doubt and the fear that everything he does is just sign after sign of what little sanity he has left slipping and slipping away, but the rest of him is as sure as he can be that Byerly is more than he seems, a liar, and a good one.

Too good of a liar to not have a purpose. He'll find what that is. ]


I plan to do what I can. [ For his friends, more than for Barrayar, but damned if he doesn't hate the Cetagandans, if they didn't have his skin crawling from the moment he was first brought into the base. ] And if I do find your corpse out in the cold somewhere, I'll make sure they bury it as far from the stables as possible.

Was that all, then?

[ Of the questions, of the digging, just looking back at him, calm, surprisingly awake despite everything. Tire yourself out talking to this brick wall yet, By? He can pull out more lectures on translight travel. ]
ghemsweetscent: (vanilla)

[personal profile] ghemsweetscent 2017-03-11 04:35 am (UTC)(link)
"Oh?" Amai cocks her head slightly in genuine interest. "How long ago was it discovered?"
komarran: (aww there's a real smile that's cute)

[personal profile] komarran 2017-03-11 05:55 am (UTC)(link)
[ It's a title he doesn't often here and he smiles slightly at the use. ]

Yes. You never told me your rank.
protocol: (► the layers in the same)

[personal profile] protocol 2017-03-11 10:45 am (UTC)(link)
It doesn't really matter, anymore.

[ For many reasons. The last time he was referred to by rank and file in the UNSC was a very long time ago, and in Freelancer they didn't really have ranks, either. He's not really part of the UNSC anymore, too, and, well. Neatly moving on, just so Duv won't have room to ask; ]

We can start whenever you like, Doctor. [ Sorry Duv. Doesn't really want to talk about it, but at least he was honest with you. ]
Edited (fussees) 2017-03-11 10:46 (UTC)
shri: (» the future runs through our bones)

[personal profile] shri 2017-03-11 10:59 am (UTC)(link)
[ She must never let anyone see that Byerly might cause them, she'll never live it down. But here, at least, it's his. ]

Oh, I do not think you are at all. Your presence here is truth enough of that.
shri: (» another roadblock in our way)

[personal profile] shri 2017-03-11 11:20 am (UTC)(link)
There's a lot of things, really, that could be asked. Her conversation with Kaidan that he had explained. It's like tunnels. Well like any path, there was always another road, another way around, if one was closed. She swallowed dryly, wetting her lips.

"Do you wish to stay here?"

A long breath, and should she offer? Would she care if this girl was with her?

"Perhaps, that many of us will return to many places - you could go to any of them, could you not?"

It's tentative, unsure, she can't offer her much. She has a war, a war that will last for as many more centuries as it has already been. It is a miserable future, but she cannot offer for anyone else but herself. "If you wish, you may return with me, if that is your desire. But it is a miserable fate, there. A lifetime of war is all you will have with me."
vorrutyer: (warmth)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-03-11 12:35 pm (UTC)(link)
I can be a scoundrel and still want to see you and talk to you. Can I not?
shri: (» and you ask and they don't know)

[personal profile] shri 2017-03-11 02:39 pm (UTC)(link)
[ What a stubborn man to cling to his reputation in such a manner. her eyes close as she laughs at that - and at his words. Wretched noise that it is, still laughter. ]

Only when I took residence in a brothel. [ She lets her eyes open again, the blanket settling over her lap. Gaze tired, eyes that softened where she doesn't quite have the will so soon after her deep sleep to take the rest. ] But no, Byerly, you are no more truly a scoundrel than you are a monster. Something else, perhaps, but not that. I've known too many of both.
threemoons: (003)

[personal profile] threemoons 2017-03-11 03:30 pm (UTC)(link)
"Have the cetagandans actually been that bad? I mean, I watched one of their interrogations and it they didn't even hurt the prisoner at all. If that's how they treat prisoners, I don't see them causing more grief than the have to with this war. And think about all the good they could do here. Just look at this place, compared to the base we came from."

He gestured broadly towards the village, and it's bundled up inhabitants.

"I'm sure the Barrayaran forces have been just as bad, or worse."
vorrutyer: (sweaty)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-03-11 03:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[ A little wistfully, By wonders what it would feel like to be offered these reassurances based on truth rather than based on lies. There's something sometimes rather painful about being a consummate liar. You know that when someone is offering you some comfort, some assurance, you're a good person, what they're talking to is the illusion. It's like being a novelist and hearing compliments given to some character you've written into existence. You feel a little prick of pride, but nothing more than that. What would Lakshmi see if she truly saw him?

Someone...who is something of a monster, yes. A man who would do anything for the Imperium. There are some - Miles, for example - who give him a pass because the nasty things he does are done out of principle rather than idly. Byerly, for his part, doesn't know about that. His soul sits a little easier, he fancies, than it would if he were doing this for no reason at all - maybe because he has someone to pass the guilt along to - but that doesn't mean it's any better. He's any better. Betrayals are still betrayals, shattered hearts are no less broken simply because he did what he did out of patriotism.

Ah, lady, I'll draw blood from you too if you give me the chance. I'm storing away that little smile of yours and remembering where every weakness is. I'll break you and chain you to our cause at best, take you apart piece by piece at worst...You're right; I'm as much scoundrel as monster. And great helpings of both. For our future. For a free Barrayar. ]


If I didn't know better - [ He laughs, his voice light. There's just the slightest hint of vulnerability in his face and his movements - the face of a man too self-conscious to accept a compliment, too proud to ever let that self-consciousness show, covering it all with a bit of snark. ] I'd think you were trying to be sweet to me, my lady. Surely not. Imagine what would happen if rumors of that got out. You'd never live it down.
shri: (» but if we go we go together)

[personal profile] shri 2017-03-11 05:00 pm (UTC)(link)
[ She has his eyes now, his honeyed dark eyes, pretty as the deep sap of amber in sunlight, she thinks on her fonder moments. His white pearl teeth, all glittering and smiling and easy to do so. Call him Krishna for the effect of looking into them, that oh, he's probably rolled happily with those soft women he adored, rolling, frolicking in the fields.

But she had his eyes now. Had them a moment off guard, had him laughing and surprised, had him unsure and withdrawing and something like unhappy in that frightened state. Many things there, most of them unknown to her. But he did not have the dead eyes of the monsters she knew better than her own self. They were not the slippery dark, that mirror flatness behind the eyes. Even an animal who could do such cruelties did not look like that, did not send her cold, like that.

Because for now, until he learned how to smother her suddenness at an arm's reach, she would keep his eyes as they are ( as in the selfishness of royal assumptions: hers ).
] Shall I temper it before it spreads too far with a promise?
komarran: (neutral but a cute neutral)

[personal profile] komarran 2017-03-11 05:54 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It may not matter now, but Duv furrows his brows as he studies the man. He doesn't like making assumptions or playing with 'what ifs.' He'll have to wait for another opportunity to question the man. ]

When you get your first batch of notes then.
omniavincit: (a savor of blood)

sorry...for ignoring a bunch of your dialogue LMK IF YOU NEED A REWRITE

[personal profile] omniavincit 2017-03-11 08:13 pm (UTC)(link)
It's subtle, the change that comes over William when Tucker offers him the "choice" of inside or outside. More in the eyes than anything, a molten calm in his stare as he turns to look the other man full in the face.

He doesn't lunge forward. He doesn't shrink back.

"Are you gonna fight me?" he says quietly. Not aggressive, but a challenge all the same: know what you want.
littlemissfutility: (32)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-03-12 02:25 am (UTC)(link)
Beth looks at her, wide-eyed at the suggestion. It's nothing she's considered in any depth; the options have seemed like stay here or go home, and the latter only a dreamy suggestion. Who actually thinks it's possible? They don't even have the technology for guns here.

But this third option is something worth considering, maybe. If Daryl could--but who knows what Daryl wants to do with himself? He'd probably be happy to stay out in the woods and catch squirrels until the end of time.

She shrugs at the questions, frowns a little at the description Rani gives. That's no way to tempt anyone to her home--but maybe it's not a place worth being tempted to. Imagine convincing anyone to go back to an Earth full of walkers and abandoned buildings.

"What's home like? For you." War doesn't tell her much. There's a war here, too, and it's still the best place she's lived since the prison fell.
littlemissfutility: (96)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-03-12 04:04 am (UTC)(link)
Beth rolls her eyes. Grandmother, right. (Right? It sounds like it probably is, but it also sounds French, and she never took it in school.) Advice is a little beyond her--it's Byerly, it's impossible to come up with a line or two that would make his life better--but she hmms over the possibility for a moment. "Trust other people, but don't let them hurt you. You think they have any cake left?"

That was the best part of this entire night, the best among a lot of good things. Along with the hot food, some kind of dense cake made denser by all the alcohol it's been soaked in. It's not all that sweet, and it's definitely not the kind of birthday cake smothered in frosting that you start to miss when you've lived in the wilderness too long, but it's still dessert. There's something special about dessert, even a cake that feels like it could be used as a doorstop.
shri: (» in the season's storm)

[personal profile] shri 2017-03-12 11:45 am (UTC)(link)
"There are some I met, some names I can provide," later, of course, when it's just her speaking with him and she can be sure of who exactly is hearing, and tired as she is, she's lived life too paranoid.

She doesn't at look at Washington or Daryl as she carries on - consider it the trade off of her using her good-will. Another slow sip before she carries on, her hands bracing on the arms of the chair. "With Daryl and Washington's... more extended stay with the Cetagandan forces, I am sure they could give you more accurate maps to their base and guard positions. I did not... see much myself, they weren't willing to extend the hospitality too far after I tried to... take an earlier leave of their facilities."

And she sips her water, again, so very delicately and ladylike.
vorrutyer: (wry)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-03-12 12:11 pm (UTC)(link)
His eyes crinkle up in amusement. "Ah, you know, if you just showed a bit more hedonism like that, my girl, we'd have gotten on from the first. Let us investigate whether there is more cake. I could use some of my own."

He strolls in the direction of the food table, asking as he does, his voice light and wry, "And tell me, do you have any tips for how to trust without being hurt? That seems to me a perfect paradox. Impossible."
lovernotafighter: (Come on with it)

It's all goooood!

[personal profile] lovernotafighter 2017-03-12 02:09 pm (UTC)(link)
So, he wasn't exactly expecting that. The question made the line of rapid yelling slam to a stop and brown eyes blink twice. Was that a threat? Or was he just being a cockbite?

"Uh, I mean, no." Fuck, one hand ran over his head, over his hair, then dropped back to his side. "Unless you're an asshole, then probably. I don't fucking know. What the hell kind of question is that?!"

Because he didn't come to fight, not physically anyway; the argument was just as good sometimes. Better usually because no one walked away with black eyes and tired. But shit, now he kind of did want to sock this guy in the face for asking that and not even paying attention to the shit he was yelling about.

Okay, so maybe. Maybe he did.

"Though I fucking should."
littlemissfutility: (61)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-03-12 02:42 pm (UTC)(link)
When he turns her words back on her, she realizes just what she said. It hits her hard enough that she looks away, her brows knitting together in something like consternation.

She wonders what Michonne would think if she'd heard that. I still believe what I told you, she'd want to explain. When you care about people, hurt is kind of part of the package. But--

But she was so much younger then. The intervening months have changed her.

She looks over the mostly empty plates that remain on the long table of food, because it means she doesn't have to look at Byerly. He'll be mocking, or he'll have one of those weird, clear-eyed moments of what looks like truthfulness, and she's pretty sure she doesn't want to see either. "I mean--give people a chance. Be honest with them. But if they use you, screw them."