[ march ii log: ageless beauty ]

[barrayarmods]

Who: Everyone!
What: The skies finally lighten, and so do spirits, but there are still quiet machinations in the dark. The good doctor's fate is finally decided.
When: March 18th - 31st
Where: Barrayaran camp, Cetagandan base & Riverfall Village
Warnings: TBD

Quick links:
Riverfall
Barrayar: Plague / Camp / Missions
Cetaganda: Plague / Base / Missions

First: Special thanks and credit to Vee (veelynn) for lending us her beautiful photography for this event!
TIMELINE
3/19 Art Fair
3/20 York & Ratchet's arrival to the Barrayaran camp
3/22 Raid: Medical Supplies
3/26 Haut Sei's arrival, Eavesdropping Eta
3/27 Eavesdropping Sigma
3/27 - 3/28 Rat Race
3/29 Official reception for Haut Sei
3/30 Mystery Plot

One thing can be said for the month of March: at least the weather's gotten better. By mid-month, while the piled-up snow is slow to melt, the temperatures have now risen to just freezing rather than well below freezing. It's still a pretty cold March, but by this point, anything close to freezing feels like a balmy spring, and they have a nice string of sunny days for the rest of the month.

riverfall
Although their numbers have been thinned by the flu epidemic, Cetagandan patrols still pass regularly through the village, allowing those spying for the Cetagandans to pass along information via dead drop.

Riverfall was hit just as hard by the epidemic as the camp, and by the end of the month, the village houses no more than sixty people. The aid from the outsiders and soldiers in caring for and treating the sick goes a long way, but by the end, there are still a lot of bodies to bury and souls to burn death offerings for. There's an overall somber cast to the village despite the brightening weather.

barrayar
The Barrayarans haven't been hit as dramatically as the Cetagandans, but their numbers are much fewer, and patrols are still thin. Anyone healthy enough is being asked to pull double shifts, stretching their resources where they can, but at least the food situation is improving considerably thanks to both Xav's relief supplies and the lightening weather.

Once seeing both his daughters recover from the flu, Prince Xav leaves camp on the 19th to rendezvous with his transport back to Vorbarr Sultana so he can make another risky attempt at getting off-planet and back through the wormhole blockade. Ezar, as Piotr's aide-de-camp, sticks around -- and so does Negri, of course.

Knowing that it would be safer (if less comfortable) and possibly more useful for the Barrayarans to rendezvous with Micah rather than try to get them back off-planet, Xav leaves Doctor Niadem's fate in Barrayaran hands…and not to great result. Now that the Cetagandans have Micah, Piotr and his general staff -- and anyone in-the-know enough about the situation to provide any advisement -- are still debating what to do about Micah and the wormhole device. They could either try to rescue Micah to their side…or leave them in Cetagandan hands and hope to make contact via one of their informants.

This makes cultivating informants on the Cetagandan side an even higher priority, and if anyone has any ties to outsiders on the other side, personal or otherwise, Piotr wants to hear about it. Any intelligence about the Star Gate Project is vital.

plague
The ill in the camp and Riverfall are recovering, slowly, but the flu is still spreading, reaching its apex, and people are still getting sick. Even as the weather clears up, it's still damp, and many of the sick are falling to pneumonia, a near-certain death without antibiotics. They've already exhausted the medical supplies Xav and Ezar brought with them, and the medical raids went poorly -- only resulting in enough antibiotics for about 20% of the village and camp's combined population.

By the end of the month, though, the Barrayarans are finally beginning to pull through. The camp and village start to recover, with the mortalities over the month total to 58 influenza-related deaths. It's time to bury the death, burn a death offering, and keep on moving on.

camp
Both Olivia and Sonia have recovered from their bouts with the flu, more or less intact despite Olivia's very touch-and-go health for a while. Now Sonia's repaying everyone's visits to her by tending to the sick and helping out where she can. And as the weather warms up and people start to recover, the line for the bath tent starts getting longer…it's still pretty cold, but after lying around in the sickbay tent for a while, few people are going to complain for the chance to wash.

Morale is still buckling, so amidst all the doom and gloom, Sonia decides to try and bring a little levity to the camp by hosting a makeshift little art show on the 19th. The Princess can often be seen with her old antique camera, taking candids or scenic pictures in the mountains, although she rarely shows her work to anyone else. Tonight, though, she has hung up a variety of her black-and-white photos around the camp for the art fair -- some of the candids are even of outsiders, and Sonia's aim seems to be catching everyone in their warmest, happiest moment. There's no sense of tragedy or despair in her work.

She's encouraged as many of the soldiers and outsiders to contribute anything in the way of art -- stories, songs, performance, or craft, she invites it all. A few soldiers make a surprisingly harmonic little chorus, and some visiting villagers give engaging tellings of Barrayaran legends. Lakshmi shows off some of her embroidery, and Beth and Tucker both bring a little singing to the table, although the majority of Barrayarans probably aren't going to appreciate a cappella Queen. Daryl shoots a mouse and either fails to understand art entirely or transcends to a brand new plane of artistic enlightenment. Also, please don't let Tucker pose nude for you.

It winds up doing some good for morale -- giving the soldiers some other context to focus on besides the war, something of an escape, or a reminder of what they're fighting for and what they long to live to see again. And for the first time, Sonia doesn't feel quite so useless.

missions
The medical assistance provided by the outsiders doesn't go unappreciated, nor without effect. Not every day is a success, but at least they manage to keep the mortality rate from climbing too high.

The medical raids are a near-unmitigated disaster, with every single raiding party running afoul of Cetagandan guards and losing some of their bounty on the way out. They only manage to make away with supplies/topicals/OTC analgesics for 40% of the population, vaccine for 20% of the population, and antibiotics for 35% of the population.

The race to Micah's location in Vorkosigan Vashnoi is a frantic one, but despite the outsiders' efforts as well as Natasha, Byerly and Kaidan's efforts to slow down the Cetagandans, the Cetagandans get to Doctor Micah Niadem first.

Here are the unabridged mission results.

cetaganda
Piotr's attempt at psychological warfare was a total success: Zahal is furious over the severed body parts of his own soldiers discovered around the camp, and even more so over the wholly unintentional but devastating biowarfare that comes with it. That part has Piotr rather tickled.

With full intel on Micah's location in hand, Zahal sends as many able-bodied squads to Vorkosigan Vashnoi as he can, including several exotics. Natasha, Kaidan and Byerly work covertly to try and slow the operation down, but ultimately, the Cetagandans still reach Micah first and bring them back to base -- taking proper precaution to vaccinate them before bringing them in, of course. It wouldn't do for their newest and very valuable asset to suddenly die of some backwater plague.

The Cetagandan base is still pretty thin on the personnel front, but they're managing to continue operations as normal. The announcement of the visit from the Handmaiden of the Star Crèche has every able-bodied person on base in a frenzy as they try to prepare and make the base suitable for receiving her. This is clearly an occasion of great honor as well as face -- if she were improperly received, ghem-General Zahal and Lady Diya would surely suffer for it.

plague
The plague reaches its apex in the Cetagandan base, but with Ratchet and Natasha's help, they were able to synthesize a vaccine for the flu. The quarantine isn't airtight, so there's still risk of infection, and they have to make sure those distributing the vaccine aren't at risk of spreading the infection. Overall, they're able to inoculate about 80% of the uninfected population.

Amai makes a full recovery, despite being dramatically (albeit not entirely unrealistically) convinced she was on death's door every second.

By the end of the month, the Barrayaran flu has about a 30% mortality rate on the Cetagandan base, resulting in about 3000 influenza-related deaths.

base
The quarantine remains in effect until nearly the end of the month, but finally, once the epidemic has died down and the Handmaiden has been vaccinated, Haut Sei Navarr arrives. The base hurriedly puts together a formal reception for her on the 30th, and rather than another party, it is just that -- a clearly ritualized receiving of her presence, so rarely seen beyond Eta Ceta, let alone the rest of the Empire.

The reception for Haut Sei is exceedingly formal, and unlike the relatively lighter air of the party last month, inappropriate behavior is going to be much less generously tolerated here. The exotics are not required to attend, but if they do, it'll be about a four-hour reception with a clear ritual protocol that will nonetheless seem very obtuse to outside viewers. Diya is prominent in the reception, being the only other haut on base, and is in fact the only one truly suited to receive her -- although, unlike Diya, Haut Sei does not appear in public unmasked. As is the custom of haut ladies still in their constellations, Haut Sei travels in a float chair encased in an opaque force bubble -- she can see out, but no one can see in. She brings with her a small entourage of servitors known as the ba, who serve not only as testing grounds for new genetic combinations, but are also genetically engineered for loyalty and service. Ba are not clones -- each ba is a work of art unto itself, each carefully created, and while they are not quite so fey in their beauty, the aesthetic effort is undeniable. All of the ba with Haut Sei are curiously hairless, which seems to be a popular trend in their design among the haut these days.

Meanwhile on the scientific end, the Cetagandans are delving deeper into what is officially referred to as the Star Gate Project. They're working with Satya to build a hard-light mapping device, but in the meantime, they have laid out the most crucial parts needed to build it: high-precision electromagnetic bearings to hold up the Necklin rods and spin them by a magnetic field for reduced friction; high-quality seals and pumps to create the necessary vacuum required for precise jump-plotting; something generating EM shielding to prevent interference, a problem unique to creating a Necklin field of this size and in this environment; and high-precision controls and controls software based on those used in existing jump ships, modifications for which are underway. And, of course, the Necklin rods themselves, which they have yet to figure out a way to fabricate.

And now that Micah is on base, the Cetagandans can finally put them to work in the wormhole lab on some of those elusive five-space math problems.

They're still developing their theory of neural netting and how a Necklin field might directly interact with the human brain without a jump implant. Based on their research so far, this may not actually be much of a problem, but there's another factor they have yet to work out: how to key the Star Gate to an exotics' own home universe. The Cetagandan neurologists have a few theories that they're working with Deanna and Natasha on.

missions
With help from the exotics, they're able to vaccinate 80% of the base's uninfected population. Satya and Pearl, despite their hard efforts, have yet to finish the hard-light mapping device by the end of the month.

A few exotics learn a bit more about Sei and Diya's history, as well as Diya and Amai's plans for covering up their less than authorized experiments. It also comes to light that the haut are planning to open gene therapy trials for any exotics who experienced power loss.

The race to Micah's location in Vorkosigan Vashnoi is a frantic one, but despite the outsiders' efforts as well as Natasha, Byerly and Kaidan's efforts to slow down the Cetagandans, the Cetagandans get to Doctor Micah Niadem first.

Here are the unabridged mission results.

Note: Negri, Amai, Zahal, and Olivia are available for threads by request only. Please hit up Madi (Negri & Amai) or Ammay (Zahal & Olivia) respectively for 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.

Comments

[dendarii]

[ Oh. Miles had been expecting something, given he'd been actively flirting just now, but damn. Miles hardly has a moment to react before Wash's fingers are in his hair and the other man's teeth are scraping against his neck. He lets out a soft noise that's equally surprised and pleased. ]

I'll - I'll accept that. [ Murmured quietly at the tail end of that noise, when he finally seems to find words again. He ... hasn't thought a lot about what he wants yet. There'd been missions to handle, and medicine to distribute. Now he's abruptly and uncomfortably aware of that tangle again, and doubly tempted to just chuck it out the window. Would it be so bad to have a one-off encounter in the middle of their friendship? Or a string of them?

He reaches up for the front of Wash's shirt in turn, fisting his fingers in the cloth. With the way his head is tilted back, he has to feel his way up Wash's chest to do it. Slim, deft fingers lightly touching all along the way. ]

[protocol]

[ Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, Wash is still acutely aware of how bad of an idea this is. Of what kind of person Miles is. Of what kind of a person Wash himself is.

He lingers longer than he should. There's a pulse of heat at that sound Miles makes, at how responsive he is, at the feel of his fingers brushing over his chest, even through heavy clothing. He turns his head, lets his teeth drag along his jawline, up to the shell of his ear, nipping sharply, his other hand moving from the log to cover Miles' hand against the front of his shirt.

And then, well. He pulls away. He keeps his hand over Miles, but guides it away, slightly. ]

-- Sorry. [ Closing his eyes briefly, turning away. ] Shouldn't be doing this.

[dendarii]

[ Is there anything more frustrating than being worked up like that and then pushed away? Goddammit, Wash. He'll draw back himself if Wash really doesn't want to do anything here, but - hell. Nothing pushes him harder in a direction he was unsure on before by being told he shouldn't do it. Where the hell does Wash get off? Miles can make his own shitty decisions if he wants to.

He'll still blame Wash for driving him to this, though. If this is Wash's version of teasing, Miles desperately wants to see what the real deal looks like. Just that ear nip was enough to send a shiver through him. He holds tight to the front of Wash's shirt, resisting the other man's attempts to push him away. ]

And if I tell you that you should? [ He hisses the words with blazing ferocity. ] You can't tease me like that, David.

[protocol]

[ Of course it wouldn't be that simple. He really shouldn't have even started. More stupid fucking decisions, that's all he's about, isn't it. Wash doesn't try to push him away again, and there's something that flickers in his expression at the sound of his name, god, why the fuck did he have to tell him that. Why did he have to tell him anything. ]

I'm not -- trying to fucking tease you, alright? [ But he kind of just did, he knows, he knows, impulses, spurs of the moment, sometimes he can't fucking help himself. ] This is just -- a bad idea. I know this is a bad idea.

I know we're all about bad ideas, but let's just -- [ Squeezing his hand over Miles', a little more insistently. ] Miles, please.

[dendarii]

[ Miles did basically ask him to do something. And now that Wash has done something, Miles wants him to keep going, dammit. There's a flash of hurt in his face when Wash squeezes his hand. If Wash really doesn't want to do this, Miles won't push. He already feels like he's inflicting himself on anyone who shows interest in him. ]

Why? Why is it such a bad idea?

[ There's no good answer to that, probably. Miles is setting himself up for hurt no matter what Wash says. ]

[protocol]

Miles, do you really fucking think I just like fucked up people because I like helping them?

[ He sounds almost angry, there, frustrated, but his touch over Miles' hand is still a strange kind of gentle, firm as his grip is. That flash of hurt in Miles' eyes -- god, he's sorry, he really shouldn't have even started this. ]

I like making it worse. Okay? [ Still angry, still frustrated, but his voice gets softer, and his eyes flicker away, has to break eye contact briefly before he forces himself to meet his eyes again. ] I take something that's broken and I break it even more. All the fucking time. That's all I ever do.

So just -- please.

[dendarii]

[ He can't believe that. Yes, Wash has done some genuinely terrible things, but purposefully screwing up people worse? He doesn't buy it. Accidentally adding gasoline to a fire, yes. But not what the other man seems to be implying. Another flicker of hurt in his face; Wash pleading with him not to hurts too.

Miles tightens his grip on Wash's shirt a little more. Leaning down towards Wash, getting in close. ]

I'm stronger than that. And I want this. It doesn't have to mean anything. [ As much as that is usually antithetical to Miles' happiness - he's sure he wants it now. Something he'll regret later, maybe, but ... ] If you don't, then stop. I'll respect that.

[ It's all he can do not to echo Wash's own words back at him. Please. ]

[protocol]

[ It's -- both, in the end. Wash likes helping people, he does, but god there's part of him that loves tearing them apart, too, the same part of him that he loses control of from time to time, that hurts people whether physically or otherwise, the part of him that likes how it feels when he's in the front line and tearing through people like they're nothing. Miles is an entirely different kind of person, god, he can't exactly forget the nervous excitement in his eyes and the way he'd seemed so relieved to talk about how he's never really done much with another man, how he prefers the fucking conversations. Wash is all about the opposite, nights of terrible fucking indulgence, violent or otherwise, the cheap thrill of having someone completely under his control --

He actually likes Miles. If anything's going to happen with him, even something that means nothing, it shouldn't be that. His first, too, god, he can't do that, he can't. Maybe if this had happened first, he'd treat it like any other casual fuck, but Wash doesn't forget. ]

Miles. [ Softer, now. His expression is a little pained, when he looks up at him. ] I lose control. I often do.

I don't -- I don't want things to change, but. This just isn't the time. I don't know. I'm -- I shouldn't have done anything.

[ Miles is already too close to home for Wash to treat it like anything else he ever does. It can't mean anything, not in the way Miles apparently wants things to, but if they're going to do even something that means nothing, Wash just wants -- it should be different, than this. Than what he's doing here. A lapse in control.

God, he really doesn't want to hurt him. Seems like there's no way out that doesn't, though. Damn. ]

[dendarii]

[ Miles could have extracted himself with minimal pain if he'd accepted Wash's first deflection. That had left more room for flirting, the possibility of staying within that playfulness they'd both been indulging in. He probably could have managed similar if he'd stopped at the second refusal to. But the third ... That's a hard no, isn't it? And by "isn't the time," Wash likely doesn't just mean here and now. The war. The situation. Everything involved.

God, how could he be this stupid? This is part of why he's so desperate for affirmation in relationships that he has successfully started - he assumes he'll get turned down even if the other person's interest is obvious to begin with. Stupid, stupid Miles. Thinking anyone here would want to go through with loving him. (Even as he thinks that, he knows it's a stupid, melodramatic response. But stupidity and melodrama are practically Vorkosigan traditions. At least he's not marrying a Vorrutyer.)

As before, his eyes go dull. The hurt is deeper this time, burying itself far below the surface of Miles' skin. A real rejection. He should have expected as much. Slowly but surely, he lets his hands drop from Wash's shirt as he lowers his gaze to the ground.]

No, no. It's my fault. I did all but dare you. And we'd - previously discussed this. [ He'd thought it was on him to figure out his own head and then consent, but he must have misjudged. His tone is too airy and light to be real; it trembles at the edges, threatening to break. ] You've every right to turn me down. No matter what we've done up to this point. [ And he means that fervently. He couldn't deal with a partner who was only sleeping with him out of fascination or obligation. The last time he tried that, it did not end well. ]

[protocol]

[ Wash does actually mean here and now. He was practically born into a war, enlisted as soon as he was able, never left that life. If the situation was the problem he really would still be a virgin. But -- no. It's being too hard on himself, maybe, because Wash isn't quite as destructive ( at least to others ) as he thinks he is. But it's self-awareness, too. He hadn't done that because he wanted him, not in that moment, he'd done that out of petty pride and careless interest, wanting to push, wanting to see. Rising to a challenge, to someone bold enough to practically dare him to do something, how much could he actually take, how much could he push, before he breaks?

And if anything happens between them -- an if, now, definitely an if, he wouldn't fucking blame Miles for pulling away from him for good -- Wash just wants it to be. Different, from that. Not necessarily more, he still can't really do more, just. Different. Anyone fucking else he wouldn't have given a damn, but apparently Miles is an exception things even here.

He catches Miles' hand, before it falls away completely. ] It's not about turning you down.

I'm just a pretty awful person, Miles. [ He smiles a little, here, but in the same way Miles' tone is far too light to be genuine, that smile doesn't match his words, doesn't match anything. ] And there's just a difference between me wanting something, and wanting to tear it apart.

You're -- a little of both. [ A breath. ] And I don't want to act on the wrong thing.

[dendarii]

[ He stills for a moment, letting Wash catch his hand. It's not quite hope that flickers in his eyes at that, though he does seem slightly less sodden about it. Maybe he jumped a little too far in the opposite direction? He can't seem to find his feet either way. In some ways, he would almost prefer a flat rejection to this to this middle ground. At least rejection is an old friend to him; he knows how to deal with it.

There's no response for a long moment, other than keeping his hand in Wash's. Being torn apart, eh ... It doesn't sound so bad. But then again he'd already had to recalculated his perception of Wash once today. He might very well have to do the same on this subject too if he tries to jump one way or the other now. Damn this place for making him feel this lonely to begin with, and damn his heart for getting attached too quickly. ]

All right. [ He says, finally. His words hesitant. ] If you figure it out, tell me. Please.

[ Now he echoes Wash, lifting his eyes to the other man's face beseechingly. ]

[protocol]

Yeah. Yeah, of course.

[ Believe him, Miles, he'd like to figure it out more than anyone. He squeezes Miles' hand lightly in his own, brushing his thumb over the backs of his knuckles. ]

Whatever happens, I just -- I do like this. Whatever this is. [ A friendship, yes, but it's more complicated, even if they take sex out of the equation. Surely a normal friendship doesn't involve that much flirting or just how quickly they'd delved into each other's lives and secrets, or maybe this is just Wash completely failing at being a normal person, again, and this is just the first time he's dealing with the depth of a real friendship. He wouldn't be surprised. Physicality, maybe, even if it isn't sexual? Could he live with that? God, he doesn't know. Too much to figure out, for now. ] I'd hate to lose it.

[dendarii]

[ Friends with ... not quite benefits? Miles does genuinely enjoy them together, and if not for Byerly shoving Miles off his cliff of obliviousness, the thought of sleeping with Wash might never have come up at all. He could make that work. There's no need to escalate this in either direction, right?

He nods, then, and bows his head. ]

As would I. I am glad to have met you, regardless of how it all turns out.

[protocol]

[ Wash just still isn't sure if he wants to or not. It's all very confusing when Wash usually operates in a realm where everything is simple, with people he won't see again or people he can tear into without any guilt for some reason or another. Miles has just managed to drift into some strange inbetween space in the exact same way he's managed to effortlessly waltz past all the defensive walls that Wash has spent years building around himself, and he really doesn't know what to make of it.

He nods, giving his hand a squeeze. That's nice to hear, that he feels the same way. ]

I'm sorry I'm such a damned mess. [ He does mean that, genuinely apologetic, even if Miles clearly had some idea of how broken Wash was before starting any of this, a better idea than most even. There's a smile there, though. Genuine, this time. ] Guess I am pretty fond of you, though.

[dendarii]

[ Miles just wrinkles his nose a bit at that. Really, Wash. He knows it's a valid concern, but really. ]

You say that as if I'm not a mess. Or like I didn't know that going in. [ But - he relaxes after a moment, and lets the tension in his shoulders fade. ] Fondness is no small achievement either.

[protocol]

[ Yeah, well, you being such a mess is kind of why he's here, isn't it. At least a little. ]

Point taken. [ Still, he's just a fucking hot mess and he knows it, alright. Imagine if Miles knew what he'd done with Byerly. ] Guess I saved you figuring out how to flirt with a tree.

[dendarii]

[ Probably best Miles doesn't know about that, yep. He'd be a bit less eager to jump into bed with Wash otherwise.

As for the tree, well ... that deserves and gets a snort. ]

The tree would have turned me down anyway.

[protocol]

[ It really was mostly an act, in Wash's defense, but it's an act he's very, very good at. ]

I'm sure you'd have the tree pouring literal sap out of it's heart within the hour.

[dendarii]

I think I'll pass. More interesting to have a conversation with you, anyway.

[ Congrats on beating the tree, Wash. ]

[protocol]

[ Yeah. A little dryly; ]

I'm thrilled to be more interesting to talk to than a plant.

[dendarii]

Well, you know. High standards.

[ Miles draws back to sit more comfortably on the log. ]

[protocol]

[ Just watching him for a moment, as if expecting something, before he lets himself relax. It's -- nice that even after that, they can reset a little. Gives him a little more confidence in the strength of this. Friendship. Thing. They have. Look Wash still isn't good with people.

He settles back into place in turn, though he makes a bit of a face when he moves. He's been sitting in the snow for a while damn it. ]

Turns out truth or dare actually was a bad idea, I guess. [ Haha. Ha? Is it okay to joke about what just happened yet, he doesn't know. ]

[dendarii]

[ Your poor cold ass. Miles can't quite bring himself to sympathize, given he still feels a bit sensitive here. Not completely bouncing back. ]

I think so. But you did tell me a long story, so I owe you one in return if you'd like.

[protocol]

[ He really had done it just to be a little closer at eye level with Miles, so he'll continue to bear with it. Mushy as it is. He's sat in worse, in war and all. ]

That might be nice. [ A soft sound. ] We can keep trading back and forth until one of these days I run out of things to say that'll make your eyes light up like that.

[dendarii]

[ As if on cue, his eyes light up again with curiosity. ]

Really? They light up? I - er, can't see that, obviously.