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.
vorrutyer: (god honestly what is this guy's face)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-03-14 01:00 pm (UTC)(link)
[ His grasp strengthens. It turns from a loving, possessive grip into something less intentional - becomes just something to support her, to hold her up, altogether without ulterior motives. If Byerly is a liar, at least his hands are truthful; they're truthful now, holding her with open and honest concern. His face, in contrast, remains opaque, guarded, nothing of his worry peeking through, but his hands worry openly.

Gently, he helps her down again, careful and kind. His voice is soft as he says - ]


I've overtaxed you.
shri: (» we will never be bought or sold)

[personal profile] shri 2017-03-14 01:01 pm (UTC)(link)
[ There are things about it, she cannot fathom - that seems extensions of what she knew but even more so. The way that people talk of space travel, of tunnels through the air, words she'd heard that might have been from the fantastical, except apparently she is too most of the time to half of them.

The details, the details about machines, don't matter. War is war is war. Whether it between men or beasts or, apparently, machines. What mattered is the tone, the way she says it. The way that it sits in her words. That is no different, no different to a child wrapped around her leg, begging about monsters that wore human faces. Pleading for parents that were never coming, dead in the field outside her home.

The glass is in the way, or she would brace to her. Give her comfort for such a hell, because it would be. She knows it, she knows it well, she could protect her own people, regardless of caste or family, and even she could not correct it all, save them all. Never mind in Gwalior, in where they had been allied to the Company for so long. But she had been removed, she was Queen, after all, on her high horse surrounded by soldiers, pretend by yes, people's affection, but in turn by soldiers. It was the slums of England that had taught her what it was to live like that. Whitechapel was a breeding ground for disease, death and misery. It reeked, it rotted, how many times had she watched children piled in the streets? To cholera, typhoid, starvation, abuse by their masters where they forced children to crawl into pits, the poor houses where they were blamed for their mistake of having parents that never had a hope. Lord Hasting free to feast on the women who wanted just to eat, until he devoured them himself.

She cannot imagine it is better, not the victimisation of monsters, but the emptiness that came after war. When there was everything to rebuild, how did you start? Oh yes, she can imagine how it happened, from the scale she mentions.
]

They let you give something not just to help yourself, but all those that might grow up like you. They gave you hope.
shri: (» and if that's true)

[personal profile] shri 2017-03-14 01:34 pm (UTC)(link)
That's no easy thing, why she didn't speak of it. It shows, in it's small ways, even if she makes sure to not let it affect. Because this isn't about laying herself open, this is about - letting Beth know the choice she might make.

"My home, my Jhansi, is.... gone. Burned when it fell to the hands of my enemies, and it's people worst that slaughtered: devoured and turn to half-breeds." The trade maps, showing the major trade lines, the cities used as powerful centrepieces of infection. Oh, she doesn't want to imagine it, but she knows, she knows it in the screams that came up like the lapping of a river in her dreams.

She shifts, her hand resting on Beth's shoulder, a brush back and forth of her fingers in a calming manner.

"When I have said such before, most said they are myth, strange creatures that couldn't possibly exist. But there is an enemy to the world as I know it, and it is they who I fight. We call them Lycans and Vampires, those that are bitten and turned, are called Half-Breeds. They are twice the size of a man, twice as strong, it takes three men's lives to bring down even one of them. Worse than that, they wear the skin of men until they turn into their monstrous true selves. My life is devoted to fighting them and preventing their influence from spreading even further. But to do so, I live in awful conditions, enough to make this camp seem a mercy, believe me. Nor can I settle, I live my life in constant movement and in constant threat."

It's not some wretched life story, who has need of that? No one and it benefitted nothing. It was the facts as Beth needed them, plain and stark and presented without a want or need for pity.
omniavincit: (they don't like you to be so free)

[personal profile] omniavincit 2017-03-14 01:46 pm (UTC)(link)
He waits patiently, watches the other man struggle to gain a toehold in his own thoughts. Is Miles worth fighting over?

"Make up your mind," he urges, sympathy soft in his voice and liquid in his gaze.
shri: (» now they whisper it)

[personal profile] shri 2017-03-14 02:15 pm (UTC)(link)
"Okay, is hardly a perfect solution, I think you would agree. Besides, we are... hardly an average among our fellows at the best of times."

She waves her hand dismissively, shaking her head briefly before she curls back over her work. "But she will need an income, connections, if she is to stay, to ensure she doesn't have to rely on anyone else."

His care, she appreciates, but she's nothing but a bluntly practical woman at her best. Beth will need food, clothes, somewhere to live. Especially, and her frowns deepens, with what Miles had told her, she must be able to live without the Countess or Sonia's support. Lakshmi leans forward a bit further, to catch the end of her thread where she comes to the end of her row of neat, exact stitches, to snap the thread with her teeth. "If you will not hear me on it as a source of concern for her well being, take it from a woman who used to run such things, for thousands of people, every day."

She catches the excess thread from where it's wet and makes it easy to catch as she spins it between her forefinger and thumb, discarding it.
Edited 2017-03-14 14:16 (UTC)
durango: (listening)

[personal profile] durango 2017-03-14 03:03 pm (UTC)(link)
"Not very - a few months, perhaps."
shri: (» to your door)

[personal profile] shri 2017-03-14 04:36 pm (UTC)(link)
[ To say poor man, is to say something mild like the sun was setting or the ice was cold. It would simply be now, that guilt would never leave him. It had never left her, either. He had been foolish, and she feels a wince and chastisement on her tongue that he had placed some lives over others. But she had done the same? ]

So it shall, for the rest of your life. [ She won't press her words soft on that. That, to her, would be truely cruel, to pretend that things would not be as they are. Her eyes up briefly, looking at something, far, distant. ]

I was thirteen when I married and became Queen. I was a child, and what child has the sense to understand what so much responsibility truly is? But I was surely terrified of the fact that this was more than I could fathom.

[ Royalty, perhaps, but she had not been born noble. Her family of the right caste, but not the money, and beloved of the Peshwa, that such a match could be fostered. Marriage wasn't about love, after all, it was a contract, it was a bonding, it was about being with another person for life, and all that it might entail. ]

My father suspected and he took me aside. When I told him what I feared of myself. He said - no matter how long I ruled, no matter how many choices I made, I would never know the truth of what I might do until all had come to pass. But in each and every time, in every loss and victory, I must learn, I must keep learning, and by each and every time I did, so then I might make better ones to protect those who were entrusted to me.

[ She lets out a heavy breath, weights like gold weighs, like crowns do, like leading drags a soul down and down and down. ] So keep that pain, never forget your mistakes and the cost it came with.

[ and learn, learn it over and over again until it seems like ash in his mouth until he hates their memory for its weight too. Only then would he find any measure of peace from their restless presence around him. ]
shri: (» and we don't mind the flames)

[personal profile] shri 2017-03-14 05:09 pm (UTC)(link)
[ How she loathes it, that vulnerability his hands are minding so very carefully. Not because it is him, but that anyone should. She has no time nor want or interest in being minded like there's glass in her. She would take her own vulnerability and burn it first.

Wants to now, where she is so aware of it. Where her heart beats feels like it's trying to burst out of her ribs, where she feels bird-light in his hold, a bundle of kindling that is being carted about for him to guide her so easily down, her eyes dull with the pain of it all. I am tired. Already said it, and that is a truth too. That she puts up not much fight to it, as she tries to preserve some scrap of dignity. Slowed down for a second as she does nothing else but lay still where he settled her, his hands so at odds with his expression but she can firmly say now, she doesn't care which is the truth of it.

God, what peace. Swallows, then rasps on that sore throat. Couldn't let him have all the credit, now could she?
]

I overtax myself.
littlemissfutility: (84)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-03-14 05:30 pm (UTC)(link)
She rolls her eyes. Adorable is a word for clean dogs and babies. But at least feisty is okay. It means her show of annoyance is just that: a show.

"I could be lying to you," she points out lightly. There's a little more to this answer than mere back and forth, but she's not about to say so. "How would you know?"

I'm pretty good at lying, when I have to.
vorrutyer: (punchable eyebrow)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-03-14 08:53 pm (UTC)(link)
"It's possible," he agrees, though the corner of his lip lifts. He clearly doesn't believe it for a moment. Still, he tugs on his forelock and says, quite honestly, "And if you are simply lying to me, then I will be very impressed, dear girl. You'll be the best liar I've ever met - and I've met some very good liars."
vorrutyer: (genuinely affectionate?? nah)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-03-14 08:55 pm (UTC)(link)
Of course, my queen.

[ His eyes crinkle in warmth. His voice isn't not mocking or patronizing; it's inviting her in to a private joke. Warm in truth. His gentle hand caresses her cheek. ]

I hope you'll allow yourself to recover soon, too.
lovernotafighter: (And another one bites the dust)

[personal profile] lovernotafighter 2017-03-14 09:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Almost everyone was worth fighting for, barring the few he knew were assholes that fortunately hadn't followed him over here. If they were on your team and weren't a complete dick (well, some "dickishness" was okay), then it should have been obvious for just about everyone.

Everyone but this guy.

"Dude, are you seriously trying to turn this around on me?" One hand slapped his chest incredulously. "Because I invented that game. And don't you use that pity voice, because I coined that shit to help me get laid, and news-fucking-flash, it didn't work then and it won't work now."

Tucker shook his head, sighing a little under his breath. "Okay, just answer me: why the fuck did you even think it was okay to leave the other guy behind?"
shri: (» oh tell me then)

[personal profile] shri 2017-03-15 11:11 am (UTC)(link)
Not - [ another cough, but at least this wasn't quite so brutal to her, just something stuck and her voice grows thick with it. Hard to form a word through that, so she swallows and tries again. ] - like I have much choice about it, it seems.

[ She wants to take his hand, she thinks, she wants to but she won't, she never does often unless it matters more than comforting herself. She wants to set his fingers to her hair, and let him indulge himself for awhile in his apparent besotted adoration, she's sure he would have a bright little light of victory, or maybe she would surprise him and that would be twice a reward to her, but -

- but then she wouldn't be herself, would she? So she stays, and she does the only thing that comes as almost everything, almost like giving in, but not quite, is that she lets him just keep his hand there. It's almost nothing, except that it is everything.
]

Tell me what else has passed? The Count, the Countess, they are well?
lovernotafighter: (Dude seriously?)

[personal profile] lovernotafighter 2017-03-15 02:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Way to make me not feel like shit about it. [But he was used to it, to hard words, to short comments, to the fact of what things were. Carolina was like that, Kimball was like that, so it was familiar, like a blanket that was annoyingly scratchy and made him itch, but was still his. She wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t know; he was going to remember their names forever, all because they did what he told them to, because he compromised the mission.

Why Palomo even followed him after, he had no clue. He wished he hadn’t, for a multitude of reasons. Kid was annoying as hell, but…also was the only surviving member of that team, outside of himself and Felix. Every time he saw him, it reminded him of—]


Thirteen? Where did you grow up, Alabama? [Probably another reference she wouldn’t get, but he didn’t think about it. She had a point; the amount of fucking responsibility that they placed on Junior: diplomat, prophecy, was just bullshit.

But he listened. He actually listened and didn’t interrupt again because it sounded hard. It sounded like crap because the answer was pain, but pain with a message, and he needed that. It was true, and what they gotten out of it had been just as important as anything else. They knew what could happen when they signed up for this war, that’s how it was explained to him.

They’re just fucking kids!]


So, do you do anything else other than learn from it? Like, I dunno, drink or have a ceremony or a monument or something? [Rituals. Funerals. They didn’t have much on Chorus with his men, just said a few words because one body was lost in the blast, the other unrecoverable. And even so after them, most of their dead were just burned, too many lost to keep burying. At some point, they started to get numb to it.

That’s what war did, though.]

terrifyingrenegade: (p031 (2))

[personal profile] terrifyingrenegade 2017-03-15 03:06 pm (UTC)(link)
She sighs. "Even if that is true, the Barrayarans are familiar, and the Cetagandans are not. In war, invading forces tend to not be very popular with the locals, no matter how good their intentions."

And she is decidedly not convinced that the Cetagandan's motivations are pure, for that matter.
for_art: (ghem lord 01)

[personal profile] for_art 2017-03-15 03:11 pm (UTC)(link)
"New York?" Ghem-Naru furrows his brow, then lets out a little scoff. "That part of Earth is long gone by now, I'm afraid. And it was certainly never invaded by any...Cybertronians."

He's pretty sure human history would have recorded that part.

He taps a light pen on the desk with a frown, looking annoyed. It's sort of his perpetual look. "I think we've about exhausted this line of conversation. You confirm that you had no intent to kill when you helped to execute the breakout?"
oldvor: (pic#10679796)

[personal profile] oldvor 2017-03-15 03:16 pm (UTC)(link)
"Report to the med tent. There's plenty of harder labor to do -- removing the dead, moving patients around as needed. The Chief Medical Officer will give you more detailed instructions."

Piotr pauses, giving Zarya a keen look. "Take care to wear a mask and gloves regardless. Even the toughest of us may be laid low by disease."

His wife, for instance.
vorrutyer: (wry)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-03-15 03:33 pm (UTC)(link)
The worse for your absence.

[ The Count is a vile man, a foul creature, a monster. Hateful and cruel. The Countess is his creature. And I am theirs, body and soul, and so I must bow to their desires. ]

But only spiritually, I suspect. Physically they are whole and healthy - if a little thinner, admittedly. They have taken rations scarcely better than what the rest of us exist on.
littlemissfutility: (38)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-03-15 03:40 pm (UTC)(link)
Beth considers him for a moment. It's not the answer she was hoping for, exactly, but when she thinks about it, it's obvious Byerly wouldn't give her a straight answer if he could help it. He benefits from knowing the how of spotting liars, obviously, and a lot of it is probably intuition, anyway. But she wants...a sliver of who he really is, maybe. An idea of why he does what he does.

"You know a lot of liars?" she ends up asking, because that's what she thinks he might actually answer. (A ton of them, he'll say, every lord and lady of the Vor--)
vorrutyer: (god honestly what is this guy's face)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-03-15 03:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Spot-on. He laughs right away and gives that answer nearly verbatim. "My dear Miss Greene," he says, "there's not a single Vor of the capital that isn't an astounding liar. There are dozens of them - telling little lies about their lineage, their bank accounts, their prospects, their talents, to make themselves more attractive to potential partners and potential friends. And that's not even getting into the hundreds of hangers-on, flattering and primping and sighing over their high-born meal tickets."

And he's one of the best of them. A hanger-on rather than someone with prospects - and too sharp-tongued and cynical ever to be a proper flatterer - but one of them. That's not a lie. He stayed alive by his wits and his ability to lie far before he'd ever turned ImpSec. But for all that the answer is true, it is (just as she knows) an evasion in its own way, because it's not the truth. The truth being: I work with and for liars. My home is a weasel's den. We keep our teeth and wits sharp so that we can hunt out the snakes.

"You know a lot of liars, too, Beth," he says a little wryly. "Everyone lies. To themselves, to others, or to both."
symmetricks: (pic#11019142)

[personal profile] symmetricks 2017-03-15 03:57 pm (UTC)(link)
"Kuchipudi," she replies, uncertain if Diana is feigning interest to be polite or genuinely interested. It's difficult to tell, always has been, even as she lightly scans the other woman's expression for signs of...well, anything telling. "It's a traditional form of storytelling in my homeland."

She gestures to those who remain after the recital to socialize, decorating the party merely with their presence.

"As with what we just saw, everything has meaning. A hand gesture, a change of expression, all are facets of the story."
symmetricks: (pic#11019133)

[personal profile] symmetricks 2017-03-15 04:02 pm (UTC)(link)
"Sometimes seeking the familiar and well-trod can be a comfort in its own right. Though I've not seen enough to consider all this wholly familiar...it is quite comforting in that sense. A place of serenity amidst so much chaos."

She approaches, though leaving the woman a respectful amount of space, as much as for Diya's comfort as her own. It's obvious she came here to enjoy the solitude and peace of the intricate display of flora, and she will not intrude more than can be helped, simply by being present.

"The repetitive nature of this struggle cannot provide much inspiration," she murmurs in addition, with a tight frown around the edges of her face.
symmetricks: (pic#10950169)

[personal profile] symmetricks 2017-03-15 04:20 pm (UTC)(link)
"2081, by our calendar," she replies quickly. "We encountered setbacks in the past few decades, but moving away from artificial intelligence provided a number of creative alternatives."

As the saying goes, if you want it done right? Don't unintentionally create an army of death bots to be taken over by a God program intent on wiping humanity from the face of the Earth.
littlemissfutility: (56)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-03-15 05:07 pm (UTC)(link)
There's lying to try and make yourself look better, and then there's lying for something that actually matters. Maybe Vorish aristocrats think their stupid white lies make a difference, and maybe sometimes they even do, but it's probably only by chance. From what everyone's said, it doesn't sound like they're all that interested in doing more than making sure everyone pays attention to them.

Either way, that's not the kind of lying Byerly does. Looking like a drunk won't make you richer. Moving so precisely between one face and another can probably get you plenty of influence, but there's something about the way he does everything that makes her feel like she's missing something. He just doesn't make sense, and getting to whatever explanation would change that seems like an impossible task.

What the hell, she decides. Just say it. "That's not the same. I mean, it's lying, but it's not the kind of lying I'm talking about."
symmetricks: (pic#10950169)

[personal profile] symmetricks 2017-03-15 05:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Yes.

[ And how her face transforms then. That is what was given, the seeds of hope that she might give to others. Out of the mud blooms the most beautiful of flowers, and from the turmoil and suffering could blossom a beautiful new future for humanity. If only they would take it. ]

They taught us the value of order and structure. I wish you could see what India has become, Rani. It is a place of rebirth, out of destruction. And all we want is to share that gift with those who stand as these people do. Afraid, unenlightened, starving and freezing and dying when we could help them. We could save them, we...

[ Her voice had suddenly become strained, and she hadn't realized how her voice had been lifting until silence cut it off and she blinked rapidly, stepping back from the cell walls. Was she talking about Vishkar or the Cetagandans? Did it matter? The frustration remained the same, that people were needlessly suffering and dying all around them, all for what? So they could lift one person up as their leader, rather than another? It made no sense, it was maddening!

But she had to compose herself. She had to maintain posture, certainly in front of Lakshmi, who finally seemed to see her. What a strange feeling that was, a sensation of suddenly being naked and not as prepared for it as one might have thought they'd be.

Does she see something I don't? ]