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.
vorbratta: (your wheels to the dirt)

[BARRAYAR/VILLAGE] Sonia Vorbarra (NPC)

[personal profile] vorbratta 2017-02-19 12:10 am (UTC)(link)
a. all arise!
Sonia's morale hasn't been the best either, and so she insists on coming along on some of the supply trips to the village, even doing her best to help -- it isn't as though she isn't able-bodied, after all. But the tiniest breath of civilization seems to do a world of good for her, invigorating her, even if it is just a small hill village. She takes quickly to the villagers, chatting animatedly in Russian, and doesn't mind translating for any outsiders who might need it. A few especially mischievous children might try to start a snowball fight with the Princess, to which she will almost certainly retaliate.

b. and out on the landing, a friend i forgot to send home (closed to tucker)
There are somber occasions in the village, too. Actually, the whole thing has a somber cast to it, despite the fact that just visiting has clearly energized Sonia, brought some of the light back to the gray, tired face she's been wearing lately. The villagers have had their own share of grief -- more than one villager has died of the cold, and many of them children. Sonia stands with a small hardy but grieving Dendarii family now, at the edge of the piece of land they use as a cemetery. Whatever burials Barrayarans do, they seem to have done it -- there's already a grave marker for the girl, marked simply with the name Hera and her birth and death. One doesn't need to be familiar with their calendar to see that the girl had only lived to nine.

c. you're like a party somebody threw me
Sonia is usually desperately starved of fun, and so she intends to gorge herself on it tonight. At the party she's even more wildly social than she ordinarily is, the life come back to her after the last several weeks. She sings, she dances, she eats, she drinks -- and she drinks, glass after glass like a child set loose in a candy shop. Her alcohol tolerance clearly comes from her Barrayaran side, because you might see the very rare occasion of a Princess drinking a soldier under the table.

And not only is Sonia having fun, she wants everyone else to have fun, too, because that's how it works. So she might pull you aside as the music breaks into a new rhythm, or try to get you to taste some food or drink, try to take your picture -- anything, anything but the meager pastimes she's had in camp.

d. wildcard
Sonia's out and about in camp doing her usual thing, and she's never hard to find.
Edited 2017-02-19 00:11 (UTC)
dendarii: (solpadeine26)

[personal profile] dendarii 2017-02-19 12:21 am (UTC)(link)
And here he is, as ready as he's ever going to be. Miles is no stranger to violence by now, but ... The thought of a Barrayaran-style interrogation makes him a bit queasy. He can only hope that maybe he can talk the man into giving up secrets early, maybe.

He hurries to do as the general says. And ... looks up at his grandfather with some concern. He looks terrible. But now is not the time to ask him about it, not with Vorhalas there in the room. It'll only make the situation worse. "Sir," he says, with a slight bow of his head. "Allow me to assist."
oldvor: (pic#10679827)

[BARRAYAR/VILLAGE] Piotr Vorkosigan (NPC)

[personal profile] oldvor 2017-02-19 01:01 am (UTC)(link)
a. i called up the moon for a little consultation
If Piotr looks worn thin, it's because he is, but so is everyone else in camp. Compared to most of his men, actually, he seems to be holding himself up fairly well, but he's just as gray-faced as the next man, sleeplessness gathering under his eyes. And under that, quiet rage that's been simmering for some time over the outbreak of treason in his camp. Right now, more than ever, he is a man who simply does not turn off, because there is far too much to be done to stop. On the rare occasion he does pause to rest for a minute, he's almost always talking to one of his officers.

His mood does improve considerably after Vorhalas and Vorbataille are sentenced to execution, however. Then, at least, he can relax his paranoia some, know who to trust again. But the outsiders have one thing going for them -- none of them could possbily have been party to that treason, and so he's willing to listen to them a little more.

b. i'll be the one with a box of wine and a hundred dollar car
Credit for Piotr's presence at the party is probably largely due to Olivia, but it becomes clear that it's something he's needed just as much as everyone else. He doesn't get nearly as drunk as some of his soldiers, but he does indulge in a few glasses of wine, and even dances with his wife for a while -- at her insistence, of course, but he doesn't protest much. You might even catch him smiling. This is probably about the best mood you're ever going to see Piotr in.

c. and count the reasons we're not dead (closed to miles)
What a bloody disaster. Not a single Cetagandan casualty, but they lost their commander. And yet the mutant still lives. Piotr won't deny that he's proven himself useful to some degree, but he'd still trade the little dwarf for the life of his Captain, especially after Miles's disastrous attempt at help in Vorhalas's interrogation. Piotr's half bent over the table in the war tent when Miles enters, elbow on its surface, forehead pressed to his hand as he stares intently at a map. He is not in a good mood.

d. wildcard
Piotr is only in the village sparingly, but he's doing his usual thing around camp, so he can be found near the war tent, the stables, or the mess.
eugengineer: PB: Ming-Na Wen (pic#10678197)

[CETAGANDA] Lady Diya d'Zefyst (NPC)

[personal profile] eugengineer 2017-02-19 01:15 am (UTC)(link)
a. sycophants on velvet sofas
Diya is notably in attendance at the moon-poetry party, dressed formally and stunningly in a layered set of white and ice-blue robes with lace edging on the sleeves. She does not, however, participate, watching instead the ceremony with interest behind her usual impassive mask, although there's a note of sad nostalgia to her gaze. She doesn't immediately disperse once the party is over, staying behind to offer compliments to the participants.

b. first wave
The haut is not a social butterfly as such; the two places she's most likely to be seen outside of the occasional cultural function are the medbay or the science/medical complex, on her way to or from the genetics wing, or perhaps consulting with some of the science officers in the R&D labs. If exotics catch her in the medbay, she'll entertain questions of a medical nature, should they have any curiosities they'd like to try and satisfy -- or simply to speak to her, to judge her again in light of new information. But she can, on occasion, be found in the artistically cultivated gardens in the annex to the Grow Labs in a moment of solitude.

c. wildcard
Diya's around, even if not very publicly visible, and given her unique status on the base, she's not hard to find.
littlemissfutility: (78)

beth greene | barrayar

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-02-19 01:34 am (UTC)(link)
[around camp]

Beth hates the knowledge that a man is starving to death, but every time she thinks of doing something about it, she remembers Byerly's words. Anyway, please bring up the prospect of democracy in front of Piotr Vorkosigan, and please invite me along to watch. That would be a sight to see. Confronting the count, having hardly spoken to him, won't save a guilty man from an ugly fate. But watching it happen sickens her.

She spends her time among the horses and the weapons, riding and practicing the basic sword skills she's started to pick up. It's easy to find her working in the mess hall, too, cooking without much enthusiasm.

And she's out of the cast, for what it's worth. The only outward scars from her experiences at home are the two on her face.

[graveyard]

"I'm sorry for your loss," Beth tells a villager, her expression gone somber. The size of the coffin set near the half-dug grave makes it obvious who was lost; no one but a child could fit inside. She tries not to think of Judith, or of anyone she knows at all. Gesturing to the shovels two villagers hold, she asks, "Could we help you?"

When she gets a nod in return, she glances at the closest outsider to her, raising her eyebrows in a you're going help, right? kind of way. This is hard enough for the family without them having to hack through the frozen ground alone.

[party]

Beth doesn't bother with the maple mead, but otherwise, she's delighted by the party. It's warm--by Barrayar standards, anyway--it's bright, and it's full of kind people. And she got dinner, so it's perfect.

Aside, at least, from the way people notice she's sober and try to help her. She finds it more amusing than anything, though she quietly passes the alcohol on after.

"They keep giving me cups," she says, holding out an untouched glass. "Do you want it?"

She's as easily found singing with the musicians or dancing to the music, though she has no idea what the steps are. If you need an excuse to get dragged into a dance, Beth is a perfect option; she'll gladly try to coax just about anybody into a dance. "Come on--it's fun."

[wildcard]

[If you have another idea, have at! You can PM me or PP [plurk.com profile] prettydoes if you'd like to discuss it first.]
Edited 2017-02-19 01:37 (UTC)
ghemsweetscent: (rose)

[CETAGANDA] Amai ghem-Soren (NPC)

[personal profile] ghemsweetscent 2017-02-19 01:36 am (UTC)(link)
a. to the garden of the moon butterflies
By Cetagandan standards, Amai's recitation at the moon-poetry party is superb. Standing ovations are not really the proper response in this context; rather, the period of silence that follows her recitation is indicative of a good performance, that it is permitted to linger in the air before being disrupted by any applause. Amai carries herself with grace, but there's no denying the underlying touch of smug satisfaction after her recitation. The ghem do, after all, love to one-up each other.

After the recitations are finished, Amai lingers with most of the rest of the participants and some of the attendees as well, basking in praise and making polite conversation. She'd be amenable to some right now, in fact.

b. we'll divine your artesian source
Doctor ghem-Soren is a busy woman, generally speaking. Despite her youth -- only in her late thirties, still very young by Cetagandan standards -- she's made a place for herself on Diya's senior staff of geneticists, and works very closely with the haut lady. Genetics aren't her only field, however; she has a doctorate in astrophysics as well and, provided their research goes well, may well land herself another in mechanical engineering. She is a woman of many talents. As a result, she's been seen all over the science/medical complex lately, not only coming and going from the genetics wing, but often consulting with science officers in R&D labs as well.

c. wildcard
Unlike her haut superior, Amai is rather social, when she isn't on shift. Like many of the other ghem women, she's an artist as well as a scientist, and she can often be found in the art rooms in the womens' quarters, or occasionally in the grow labs admiring some of the more creatively engineered flora.
pigsfeet: (please stop)

daryl dixon | semi-ota.

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2017-02-19 01:39 am (UTC)(link)
a. I FOUGHT THE LAW | feb 18-24; LOCKED TO CETAS.
You may not have heard what happened. Hell, you might not have even noticed Daryl was missing. He was always lurking around in the background, anyway, and he never said much. He's been in lockdown for a while, though, around a week. The prison's clear, cool glass keeps any communication from happening. Daryl feels more like a zoo animal than a prisoner whenever someone comes to gawk. If you stare too long, he'll stare right back, eyes hard under the sweep of dirty hair.
b. CAREER OPPORTUNITIES | feb 26-28; LOCKED TO BARRYS.
Daryl is new to the Barrayaran camp, that's for sure. He definitely hasn't made any attempts to get to know people. Daryl sticks to himself, and mostly Beth. Honestly, you've probably seen him hovering around Beth, if you've seen him at all.

But he isn't always by her side. Today, in fact, you can find him by himself. He's on the far edge of the camp, ignoring everyone and fiddling with a peice of twine and a few sticks. If you come by him, he'll ignore you. But if you stick around too long, he'll look over his shoulder and grunt. "You gotta problem?"
c. TRAIN IN VAIN | feb 26-28; LOCKED TO BARRYS.
Someone's carved an X into a tree. It's not exactly a mystery who, though, considering the X is littered with arrows. You just have to find the bowman.

While the X is littered with arrows-- all pretty close to the X or directly on it-- none yet have hit bullseye center.

A fair distance away, Daryl's has the bow pointed and ready for another shot. He's not very kind to anyone who's gotten in the way. "You wanna duck!" He says, and aims.
d. OVERPOWERED BY FUNK | feb 26-28; LOCKED TO BARRYS.
Daryl isn't one to sit around the campfire late at night. He generally turns in early, and sleeps like a rock. Tonight is no different; Daryl sleeps soundly in the tent marked for outsiders.

Every night after everyone falls asleep, though, he's been moving to sleep in front of the mouth of the tent. He positions himself purposefully to be tripped over by intruders, just in case of some sort of attack. Time with the Cetagandans has not made him particularly forgiving.

He can be avoided, of course, by someone wandering out-- he doesn't want someone bugging him every time they need to take a nocturnal piss. But if you're particularly clumsy, or just not paying attention, you'll awake a sleeping Daryl, one clearly ready for a fight. He wakes in seconds, fists balled and eyes wild.
e. LOST IN THE SUPERMARKET | feb 28; LOCKED TO BARRYS.
Once Daryl's decided this place is worth his time, he starts deciding what to do with it. It's in their best interests to stay for the moment, he decides. Later isn't written in stone, but for now? For now it'll be wise to stay put.

So what can he do? This place isn't overflowing with food, that much is obvious.

Daryl isn't one much for late nights at the campfire, but tonight he makes an appearance. There's a string slung over his shoulder, and about four dead squirrels tied to it with little rodent nooses. He settles down and throws one on a tree stump before taking out a knife.

"You hungry?"
f. WILDCARD.
On the Cetagandan side, Daryl is obviously restricted to his prison cell. On the Barrayaran side, Daryl will mostly be keeping to himself, keeping his head down, and keeping an eye on Beth Greene. Feel free to bump into him however you like! Feel free to PM this journal or ping me @ [plurk.com profile] wehwalt with any questions or ideas... or not! I'm open to anything.
Edited 2017-02-19 02:20 (UTC)
dendarii: (Torchwood_106_0258)

C

[personal profile] dendarii 2017-02-19 02:05 am (UTC)(link)
Miles is certainly in no better mood himself. That's two disasters in a row. And even knowing he wasn't in command of that particular portion of guard duty doesn't prevent him from feeling heinously guilty. There had to be something he could have done. Seen the Cetagandans sooner, pulled the captain out of the way ... It's no different than what he feels for a fallen Dendarii. The guilt is etched into this face as he enters the war tent.

"Sir," he says as his gaze sweeps across his grandfather. Not in a good mood, clearly. He doesn't much want to be here anyway. "You ... want a report, I assume." He's still a bit bloodied from the encounter - a gash in his arm that's stained his clothes.
littlemissfutility: (18)

f. crying over you (because you're so damn short)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-02-19 02:21 am (UTC)(link)
There's only so much carousing Beth can take in a single evening, even with the promise of warm fires. You watch people drink, you sing songs, they drink more, you don't, and it goes on and on until your eyes are starting to slip closed. It's nice, for the most part, but after almost two months of it, you stop needing hours and hours seated at a campfire unless it's really cold.

Beth always says her good nights early, by Barrayaran standards, and then she heads back toward the outsiders' tent. It's usually a walk she takes alone, doing her best to bury her face in the collar of her coat, one hand always ready to grab her knife if necessary.

Tonight, though, she notices someone else trudging toward the tent, and something instinctive thinks Daryl before the rest of her catches up to the thought. Even in the dim orange light cast out by the fire, she knows his walk, the same way she could pick Rick or Michonne out of the shadows if she had reason to. But Daryl's back in Georgia--back in Grady, right where she left him. Homesickness aches in her chest, and she pauses a moment, taking the time to prove to herself that she's looking for features in people she doesn't know. People with dark hair growing long over their ears and facial features weighted by shadows, who glance around like they're waiting for walkers and--

It's like being punched in the gut and hugged all at once. It's him.
Edited 2017-02-19 02:21 (UTC)
natalia_vdova: (secret smile)

b! before the bad thing

[personal profile] natalia_vdova 2017-02-19 02:29 am (UTC)(link)
Natasha's been wanting to find a chance to talk to Diya for a little while. There's the conversation she overheard with Deanna in the back of her mind, but it bothers her less than it should. She's not sure that if the positions were reversed, if it had been Cetagandans landing on her world through some sort of wormhole that SHIELD or the DOD would have been any more interested in sending then back.

But that's not what Natasha wants to talk to her about.

She ends up catching her in the medbay, doing her best to time it so that she's more or less alone, or at least as close as she can get. There are things she wants to ask, and while she doesn't expect discretion, let along secrecy, it's still easier the fewer people involved. Natasha wears a slight touch of a smile, though there's a weight of intention that hints that this is more than just polite conversation.

"Lady Diya d'Zefyst." She calls her name as she steps inside, doesn't meet her eyes this time. This isn't her first night here and she's no longer leaning on the unaware foreigner defense. "I had some questions, if you don't mind?"
komarran: (dramatic side look)

B

[personal profile] komarran 2017-02-19 02:30 am (UTC)(link)
Daryl isn't someone Duv expects to see. The last he had seen the man had been during the raid on the Cetagandan base in a flurry of swords, arrows, and energy-based weaponry. While this is much calmer, it doesn't abate the confusion he feels by the man's presence. Judging by his appearance, his entrance into this camp had been more pleasant than Duv's own.

"Not at the moment," he answers as he watches Daryl work and moves to stand by the man. "Had enough of Cetagandan hospitality?"
pigsfeet: (no one makes me bleed my own blood)

theyre all clash songs jeez get with the theme.

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2017-02-19 02:37 am (UTC)(link)
Daryl is checking the tent for structural integrity. Look, he doesn't like tents, not since the long winter, the very first one, back in the beginning of the end. It feels like a decade ago, even though it's only been a handful of months.

Tents have holes in them, and that's how things-- people, now, living people are the enemy, how goddamn quaint-- get in while you're sleeping. Daryl has no intention of that happening, not after all he's done to get to this shithole.

So he's checking for holes when he hears someone walk up to him. He figures them for a drunk and stays to his business, except they go dead quiet, standing there still at his side. Daryl looks up and sees-

The body, laying there with her brains blown out, blood on his shoes, and the bitch standing over her with this shocked look on her face, like it was an accident, like something like that's just some dumb accident, and he takes out his gun and-

Daryl takes a little breath. "Beth?"
vorrutyer: (punchable intensity)

Byerly Vorrutyer

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2017-02-19 02:37 am (UTC)(link)
party
A party is normally Byerly's scene, but he's a little withdrawn - at least at first. The first little while he spends off to the side, a little quiet, just watching.

A glass or five of maple mead later, though, and he's getting into it a lot more. At some point, he ends up with his hands on a violin - a fiddle, really, up here in this village - and he really throws himself into it. His training on the instrument is classical in nature, but he can read a damn room; he plays fast reels, dancing songs, drinking songs, anything and everything that can get people up and dancing. Showboater that he is, he himself sometimes dances as he plays, skipping in and out of round-dances without missing a single note, grinning broadly with real delight.

graveyard
He manages to hold onto that violin somehow - too drunk to give it back, or its owner too drunk to take it back, or something. His head spinning, smashed on maple mead, he wanders the village, finally coming across the graveyard with its freshly-turned dirt. He stands a while, swaying slightly, on the edge of the graveyard, perhaps afraid to wander it and disturb ghosts. Then, after a long moment, he raises the violin and starts playing a disjointed-sounding song, something with great purpose and great feeling.

at camp
Byerly is doing his usual shiftless routine back at camp - making a show of ducking work, being fairly conspicuously lazy. He's started complaining quite a lot more lately - "I can't take this cold," he says sometimes, or, "What I wouldn't give for a hot shower," or "What I wouldn't give for everyone else to take a hot shower." "How far do you think I'd get if I tried to run?" he asks, sometimes, and then laughs like it was just a joke. The faces he makes over the food are exaggerated, too. He seems more shiftless than ever.

wildcard
Gimme anything! Or let me know if you want something else and I'll give you something all right, wink
Edited 2017-02-19 02:38 (UTC)
pigsfeet: going forward its clear i dont remember what season things happened (your very sad life)

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2017-02-19 02:45 am (UTC)(link)
Daryl recognizes that voice. It was the guy who got captured, the one Daryl couldn't, ultimately, save. He'd thought about it, been all but prepared to do it, before the reality sunk in. Who knows where they'd taken him, and how long it would take for Daryl to get there. Daryl can survive on his own in the wild, of that he's got no doubt, but not in this cold. Georgia never taught him how to live in subzero temperatures.

A tiny ball of guilt settles in his throat when he turns around. It's his fault, in the end, that Duv's here. He stands slowly.

"You could say that," he says. "You been here since-..." Daryl shrugs. Duv's a smart man, he can fill in the blanks.
littlemissfutility: (29)

you don't want any roy orbison? how about easy street?

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2017-02-19 02:54 am (UTC)(link)
She moves without thinking when she realizes that it's really Daryl, barely managing not to break into a run, until she's standing beside him, waiting for him to see her, too. (Nobody but an idiot, at this point, would throw her arms around him--or any of them--without making her presence known first.) Beside him, it seems ludicrous that she could have thought he was anyone else. He doesn't have the look of a Barrayaran, though with the clothes he's wearing, it's hard to say what he does look like.

Right up until he glances her way, anyway. Then he only looks like Daryl, regardless of the outfit. (She can nearly imagine the sleeves torn off.)

He looks at her like he expects her to crumble into dust, or for someone to come over and correct him--not Beth, someone else, forget it. It's a mirror of her first expression, she thinks, before she hurried over here and hope overtook everything else in her face.

But he's looking at her now, and he's the only thing from home that's found its way here. After two months of missing home, being able to wrap her arms around a piece of it--here! here and safe!--is all she wants. Beth pulls him up and hugs him as hard as she can.
pigsfeet: (TAKE A SHOWER)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mvA_ipa-8DM

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2017-02-19 03:41 am (UTC)(link)
She reaches out to hold him like nothing's wrong. He holds on tight-- tighter than he ought to, on a living person, but then, she's not-

He holds her tight, and tries to ignore the wetness prickling at his eye. "How-" he hiccups, "how the hell're you here-?"
komarran: (why do vorkosigans happen to good people)

party

[personal profile] komarran 2017-02-19 03:53 am (UTC)(link)
He had thought he'd felt like an outsider before, but the feeling is almost tenfold when he's attending the party in the village. It's surreal being here and watching this. A small moment of history, of daily life of the hillfolk who were trying to survive this occupation as best they could. It was admirable to see despite the feeling he shouldn't be here, watching this scene unfold before him. He manages to relax enough to have a couple drinks of mead though he remains on the sidelines as an observer more than a participant. After his recent ventures with the Barrayarans, he's needed more than a few drinks.

When he spots Byerly Vorrutyer, he feels a cold sinking in his stomach as he steels himself and watches the man. The Vor was a far cry from the impression Duv had received in the prisoner's tent, but he knows all-too-well how deceiving looks can be. Did Miles really trust the man? His finger taps the side of his glass as he circles around the edge of dancing where Byerly has found himself.