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.
shri: (» the wishes i've made)

[personal profile] shri 2017-02-23 09:32 am (UTC)(link)
[ She has her back to her at first. Where she is walking her round like - her nose wrinkles with the comparison. The way she heard the noble women of England liked to take turns of the room. But right now, it was at least something to do as she comes back around, and -- stops, when she sees her present company standing the other side of the cell.

Her gaze levels, her hands come to settle flat beside her and she - well, she can never back down, can she? Devi's teasing words to her once, that she simply did not know how to stop.

Meant lightly at the time, but they were far too true.
]

Taking a tour?
protocol: (► but before we get out of our club)

[personal profile] protocol 2017-02-23 09:46 am (UTC)(link)
[ Wash is still getting used to the Barrayar camp but he's become accustomed to having some company around on restless nights, a Barrayan soldier on guard duty at night coming to check the tent, another maybe coming by to sit in the warmth of the fire for a while. This one's different, though, just because he's sure he's seen him around the Outsider's tent sometimes in the day -- and because he brings a bottle, the same kind he's seen soldiers occasionally carry around camp. Maple mead, he remembers someone saying.

There's a practiced quality to the way the man drinks from the bottle and offers it to him, and Wash is sure that this is probably something that he's expected to accept. But, well, Wash doesn't drink. He never really has, not that he hasn't tried it or thinks poorly of people who do, he just doesn't like it, hates the thought of being at all inebriated and not having his wits about him, about something that makes him more careless and prone to slips of the tongue. He's far too careful and far too cautious, has spent too much of his life needing to make absolutely sure that everything he knows will stay a secret, and he's only ever drank in very exact circumstances. Being in a military camp on an alien world in the middle of some civil war in the dead of winter isn't one of them.

He -- tries to be polite and friendly about it, lifting a hand to indicate he doesn't want it with a slight shake of his head, tipping his chin towards him. ]


All yours. [ He's good. Hopefully refusing a drink wasn't seen as some incredible slight in this culture or something. Back home, it just mean that he wasn't a whole lot of fun, as other people defined it. ]
protocol: (► anyway i am a man)

[personal profile] protocol 2017-02-23 09:59 am (UTC)(link)
[ As Wash starts to realize where he is, remembering what'd just happened, turning away from Maine with an ache in his chest and telling him he had to go back, feeling Maine's arm slip around him and then -- then there's a voice, familiar, and he turns immediately. His vision swims a little in front of his eyes, but even then, the sight of her, even blurry and vague, is enough for Wash to immediately relax. ]

Doesn't he always? [ A smile, a grimace, and he braces an elbow against the cot to start pushing himself up. ] Hey.

[ It's good to see you, and boy is there a lot we have to catch up on. Wash is still more than a little dazed, still processing what's around him, and there's something he needs to tell her, something important, and suddenly he's jolting upright, wide-eyed, twisting around and reaching out to squeeze his hand over her forearm. ]

-- He's still back there.
vorrutyer: (punchable intensity)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-23 11:35 am (UTC)(link)
[ He does hesitate. But right now - right now, afraid of the mission, and miserable, and guilty, and sad, with Piotr and Miles hounding him about what's right, what's tactically smart, when he doesn't care about what's right or tactically smart, when he just cares about...The thing is that he isn't a soft person. No. He isn't a sentimental person. He doesn't need hugs or gentleness or kind words. Those sort of things make him break out in hives. Goodness. But at some level, at some deep level, he wishes...

He wishes for some acknowledgment. Of how good she is. Of how important she is. Of the fact that he's making a sacrifice. Is that foolish? No doubt. But all the shut up and do your job - Miles acting his grandfather in miniature, your feelings don't matter to anyone Vorrutyer - ]


Ah, must have slipped my mind. And thee.
dendarii: (TW_S1_E3_0539)

[personal profile] dendarii 2017-02-23 11:39 am (UTC)(link)
[ Miles watchs Byerly, seeing the shape of Byerly's thoughts if not the content of them. Worried? Just hesitant? Some mix of the two? In any case, that might just be the weakest "I hate you" he's ever heard. ]

I've seen more venom in a ten-year-old's hex sign.
vorrutyer: (explaining everything (badly))

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-23 12:09 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Uncomfortable, he goes on the offensive: ]

Oh, is this the game we're playing, now? Pity-the-mutie? Pass. I've already participated in enough of your masocism. I'm going to start demanding a professional dominant's wages if you keep having me punish you.
pigsfeet: (watch my high chaos playthrough)

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2017-02-23 12:30 pm (UTC)(link)
Daryl looks accordingly stricken. He turns away from her quickly, gets back to the busy business of pacing. It's been a while since he's been out in the woods like this. His first thought is, strangely, stop stomping around; you're going to scare all the deer.

His mind just won't settle. He's too angry, too afraid.

"You're telling me," he manages to grumble, "you trust him to stab you. Nothin' else. Just that."
shri: (» oh tell me then)

[personal profile] shri 2017-02-23 12:35 pm (UTC)(link)
[ She means to catch him on that, even if there's a displeased purse of her mouth when he insists on reine, still. It was inevitable, but he was going to be a dog with a bone about it, wouldn't he?

Rather she waves her hand in brief dismissiveness to his words. She won't hear a word against him, now or ever. That much is set.
]

Whatever squabble between you two is between you two. He came to my side, he saw to my safety and my care just as much as Maine did. I hold them both in esteem.
pigsfeet: (local pinecone gains sentience)

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2017-02-23 12:35 pm (UTC)(link)
There it is. The button Byerly needed to press. The correct nerve to needle. Daryl's posture changes from cool, ambivalent, even relaxed, to... well, angry. Tense. His expression doesn't change much, but there's much more sharpness in it.

He doesn't care about Vor; he's only got the slightest understanding of what those are. But he knows the way Byerly talks. He understands the meaning of his tone, if nothing else. Just another piece of redneck trash. One day, they'll scrape you off their boots.

Daryl stands, staring down at Byerly. "Vor don't mean shit." And he aims a kick right at Byerly's stomach.
pigsfeet: (muh)

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2017-02-23 12:39 pm (UTC)(link)
"It dead?" Daryl isn't going to make Miles break it's neck, but it'd be nice if he, you know, didn't have to break anything's neck. He will if he has to, it's just unpleasant.

Also, if they have two, he can show Miles how to skin it.

"Lemme set it back up," Daryl says. "Do it wrong, 'n your hand can get cut." And lacerated. The traps are supposed to kill an animal instantaneously.
littlemissfutility: (45)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-02-23 12:41 pm (UTC)(link)
"He gave me his word." It had seemed strangely formal, with none of the artificiality that he usually leaned on. She wants to believe that's the truth of Byerly, even now. "It would've been more dangerous if nobody knew."

Then she'd be wandering through these woods, neither alive nor truly dead. She might have bitten somebody--there's a child at this camp, what if she bit Negri? Her arms are wrapped around herself, a sort of defensive hug she can shrug off as just crossing her arms if she has to. The idea that she was supposed to leave everyone here in the dark about the danger she posed to them--it's insane. She'd never have done it, maybe even if he'd been here from the start.
pigsfeet: (Default)

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2017-02-23 12:43 pm (UTC)(link)
"Word of a liar," Daryl says, "ain't worth shit."

But he understands, in a way. He understands worrying about dying, and not wanting anyone hurt. A shiftless person, at least, can be trusted to work in his own self-interest. She could have made a worse choice, and gone and told the Count or some shit.
shri: (» to your door)

[personal profile] shri 2017-02-23 12:44 pm (UTC)(link)
[ She takes the tea with complete gratefulness of something warm in her hands. A happy pause in her work, for the time being, settling it down in her lap as she lets herself lay back with a brief nod to the other woman. ]

A soldier that cannot sew? [ Her head shakes, clearly bemused by the idea. ]
littlemissfutility: (49)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-02-23 02:06 pm (UTC)(link)
Beth shakes her head. "Rani's fine." If you like it.

Rani--it's hard for Beth to look at her and think Lakshmi--seems so tired, so filled with secrets that don't seem to need sharing. Her name can be one of those; it seems like that must have been Rani's goal, or she'd have introduced herself with the whole thing originally.

So it'll just be something between them. Maharani Lakshmi Bai, queen of Jhansi. Wherever Jhansi is--her guess is India, but she would have guessed that Piotr Vorkosigan was from Russia if she'd met him in a different context. For all she knows, Jhansi is another planet entirely.

"Was it bad over there?" she asks after a few quiet moments. She's sure it was--Rani slept for a week after, Daryl said he was tortured--but asking is gentler than tell me what it was like. This way, Rani can slip out of the question if she wants to.
vorrutyer: (super broody)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-23 02:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Ah. What is right here? What is good? To sleep with her before abandoning her? Perhaps that will fit him into the mold of a typical scoundrel. Perhaps that will make him hateful, hateable. Keep her from sadness, because she'll have loathing to dwell on. Or perhaps she'll blame herself for it, in the way that your mind so often starts working in that direction - I didn't keep him, I couldn't keep him. A younger Byerly Vorrutyer, before his ImpSec days, was sometimes prone to that. Yes - a younger Byerly Vorrutyer, new to the Vorbarr Sultana social scene, fell in love time and again with horrible men and horrible women who picked him up and dropped him hard. And he remembered the way he'd get drunk and sit in the dark and try to figure it out, figure out what was wrong with him, thinking over every word and gesture, obsessing over every flaw in his personality and his appearance and his manner of dress and the way he laughed...

He has the horrible image, for just a moment, of Sonia become like him. Cynical and miserable. A user. The thought makes him sick.

"I don't know," he says, his hand coming up to cover hers. His voice remains teasing - as light as he can possibly manage. "I'm a rather famous liar, you know. What if I only make you think there's a difference?"
vorrutyer: (intense (but smug))

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-23 02:25 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh?

[ By turns a curious glance on the man beside him. ]

It's not poison, you know. That's why I drank first. To prove it. [ A little half-laugh. ] Old Barrayaran custom, that.
vorrutyer: (explaining everything (badly))

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-23 02:28 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, there's no squabble. I just detest the dwarf, that's all.

[ Truer in the past week than ever before, regrettably. He's saying this mostly for the purpose of camouflage: he will, after all, be answering to Miles, the two of them allies in his mission, and so distancing himself from the man is good policy. But right now, truthfully, he does detest him. Powerfully. ]

And did you actually see him do what he said he did? He has a habit of exaggerating his involvement. Don't buy into everything he says.
vorrutyer: (what a shitty grin)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-23 02:36 pm (UTC)(link)
Agile as before - and quite accustomed to spending time with the sorts of men who kick a debauched, loudmouthed idiot when he's too drunk to stand (and accustomed to playing the part of a debauched loudmouthed idiot who's too drunk to stand) - Byerly twists to absorb the blow. Quick and lithe as a mongoose, he wraps himself around Daryl's foot, capturing it before he has a chance to pull back, so he's left standing precariously on one leg. And Byerly tenses, ready to surge to his feet, sending Daryl falling backwards, at the least movement.

"You sweet dear little wild beast," By says. His eyes are bright and happy and vicious, an excited grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. He is, in his way, as sadistic as his ancestor Le Sanguinaire, the man who became Prime Minister on the strength of his skills at torture; By simply enjoys a different sort of bloodshed. Emotional and psychic. "You are in over your head. You are going to drown, my lovely little thing. You still think you're at home. Mon chou, my prole sweetling, you will answer to Vorkosigan, Vorbarra, Vorkalloner, Vorhalas, Vorrutyer. Vor is everything on this planet, and you will have to be broken and bow down. Else get thee to a shuttleport and get thee to the egalitarian butchers of Jackson's Whole."
vorbratta: (and you wanted something better)

[personal profile] vorbratta 2017-02-23 02:36 pm (UTC)(link)
The thought doesn't occur to her now, won't occur to her until much, much later, but she could never hate Byerly for something she's done before, so many times. Trick a stranger into sleeping with her, only to disappear, at best. It's the only way anybody's happy, or at least less lonely, without consequence. Why she does it, the mind behind it, is entirely different. She isn't the kind of user Byerly is. She just wants, and she takes what she can get. And Byerly is hardly the last she'd pick. There must be some novelty in sleeping with someone you trust, someone who knows you.

She won't blame herself for this, later. She'll be too furious with Byerly to hate herself.

Her smile is a benediction, faintly touched with fondness and amusement. "You are a very good liar, Byerly," she agrees, her eyes glittering, "but you're terrible at telling the truth."

And then, her other hand curled over his shoulder, she leans in and kisses him.
lovernotafighter: (Grenade)

[personal profile] lovernotafighter 2017-02-23 02:42 pm (UTC)(link)
[Oh, well shit. Maybe she was deaf, or like partially deaf or something. Not a big deal; she was probably hot under that scarf, and he didn’t mind just talking louder. Shit, everyone knew he was a screamer anywa--]

That-- [He pointed at the tools, a little roll of his eyes.] -- looks boring as shit. You know what doesn’t look boring as shit? Me. [That smile widened, broad and cocky and full of an arrogance that probably not earned but self-attributed. Come on. How can anyone say no to all this?

Easily. Bur whatever.

Shoulders shrugged a little as he tilted his head to the side.]
Look, it’s cool that you can’t hear that well; I’m from a fucking war zone that contained Caboose. Do you know how many grenades I had pop off by my head and how many times I couldn’t hear for days? I got really good at lip reading.

[He leaned in a little closer, and so much for self-preservation here. ] Want me to show you how well I can read your lips, baby?
vorrutyer: (really fucking stressed)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-23 02:49 pm (UTC)(link)
No. No. He can't. He finds his chest tight, his throat painful. He breaks off the kiss almost at once, dropping his head. He knew as soon as her lips touched his. He knew that there's no way.

"Sonia," he says, his voice a little strained, "I - cannot." A hesitation, and then - "I'm - sorry." You stupid piece of shit, you stupid piece of shit...
lovernotafighter: (Well this sucks)

[personal profile] lovernotafighter 2017-02-23 02:55 pm (UTC)(link)
Only kid. He thought about Junior, his only child, however not planned as he was (how could anyone plan for something like that?). Tucker imagined him dying and starving in the cold. Imagined how helpless he’d feel, powerless, imagined the fucking pain that could cut through his fucking heart.

He remembered watching a ship explode with his kid on it—

“I have a kid. I get it.” His chest hurt a little, lungs squeezing. He missed his son. He missed his weekly video calls with him since they freed up communications with Chorus. Missed having his basketball picture in his wallet. Tucker actually looked…somber. Longing for something he wasn’t talking about.

Look, he could behave for once.

“No offense, but this place sucks.” Anywhere that kids could die like this sucked, let’s be real.
vorbratta: (i better keep my two legs running)

[personal profile] vorbratta 2017-02-23 02:57 pm (UTC)(link)
Sonia's left hanging a moment, a drunk delay before she realizes he's pulled back and she sits down, her brows lowering. She looks a little stricken, but mostly she just looks petulant than anything else, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting outrageously at him.

"Why not?"
Edited 2017-02-23 14:57 (UTC)
vorrutyer: (hung over 1)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-23 03:01 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, God, she looks cute like that. His heart just about squeezes in his chest at the look. How the hell is he supposed to resist that?

Damn it...

Right. Okay. He has to. This is the best way. This is the best way. Yes. He takes a breath in, sharply, unsteadily, and says to her -

"Because I like men."
lovernotafighter: (Diplomat here)

[personal profile] lovernotafighter 2017-02-23 03:06 pm (UTC)(link)

“Why not?” There was a shrug of his shoulder, the cup held loosely in his hand before he took another sip. It burned on the way down, and he liked it, needed it. “Well, it’s not like they’re clapping for you, so I thought I would.”

Because the song was good, it had a mood, it had a feeling. Hell, if the people here were alive, they’d be clapping, too, so he was just channeling their appreciation on the whole damn thing. This guy…Tucker didn’t know what to make of him, still, didn’t understand him; who the hell came out to play for a bunch of dead people?

Well, there were a few people back on Chorus that he thought would, but…

Brown eyes flickered to fresh dirt, the grave he and Sonia helped bury a woman’s child in. He stared, his lips screwed up tight, before back at Byerly. “I guess if you want to be a hippie and all ‘We’re all part of the same universe’ stuff, I guess? But I kind of meant someone more, um, immediate.”