For Barrayar mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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forbarrayar2016-12-19 09:43 pm
barrayarmods) wrote in forbarrayar2016-12-19 09:43 pm
Entry tags:
- !event,
- #barrayaran camp,
- *olivia vorkosigan,
- *sonia vorbarra,
- adrien arbuckal | prorenataa,
- agent carolina | startpoint,
- agent maine | traitorous,
- arthur pendragon | changeth,
- beth greene | littlemissfutility,
- byerly vorrutyer | vorrutyer,
- elsa mars | starsneverpay,
- lakshmi bai | shri,
- miles vorkosigan | dendarii,
- zarya | sibearian
[ january i log: barrayar ]
Who: Everyone
What: Arrival on Barrayar and what follows
When: January 2nd - January 17th
Where: Barrayaran guerrilla camp
Warnings: None (at the moment)
welcome to barrayar.
It's the dark of night when you come to in the foothills. Snow on the ground, chill winter wind whistling. A steep mountain range towers just ahead, its peaks illuminated by the light of two moons. Whatever you last remember, it isn't how you got here, and you feel oddly jetlagged, slightly queasy.
And you're not alone. There are nine other people close by, all looking equally lost and confused. But before any of you have a chance to figure out what's going on, the soldiers arrive.
They're dressed in weather-worn green uniforms, bearing swords and bows, and they surround you immediately, poised to attack. But they quickly realize you're not their enemy, the ones they call Cetagandans. They're just as confused as you are, but rather than hanging around to puzzle it out, they start shepherding you toward their camp in the mountains while it's still dark. There's a war on, they say, and you unlucky bastards have just been dropped right smack in the middle of it.
the guerrilla camp
It's a few hours' hike through the mountains to get to their hidden camp, set up in a clearing framed by dense, hard forestry and backed against a rock face. Daylight is finally dawning when you make it there. You and your fellow sudden arrivals are ushered to an empty tent on the far end of the camp, just big enough to fit all ten of you. You can't help but notice they've posted guards all around it. You aren't under arrest – they just don't know what else to do with you.
You are able to glean, from hearsay and what the soldiers are willing to share with you, that you are on a planet called Barrayar, and this is their home, and ten years ago they were attacked without warning by the Cetagandan Empire. They've been holed up in the mountains fighting against their invaders ever since, outgunned and outmanned, but scoring little victories where they can. They don't tell you much more than that. Some dialect of Russian seems to be one of the predominant languages of the camp, but for the most part they all speak English too, if with an accent. They're gruff and wary, and if you look a little less – or more – than human, they'll eye you with suspicion, maybe even make obscure hex signs at you that seem intended to ward off evil or disease. But they aren't hostile to you, not unless you start something with them.
the outsiders' tent
It's not in the greatest shape, but if you look around the camp, the rest aren't much better off. It's cramped, but you've at least been provided with bedrolls and heavy wool blankets to ward off the frozen chill, and if you're in need of clothing, they'll provide it, although it probably hasn't been washed in…a while. The soldiers bring you food at mealtimes -- not very good food, mostly tough meat and groats, and they keep you your own campfire, just to keep you warm. They've also hastily dug you your own latrine area at the edge of the perimeter, just behind the treeline. No private bathroom stalls in this outfit, unfortunately. The entire camp seems tense and wary, and the soldiers are alert, but they don't talk much. You could try sneaking past them, but you probably won't get far.
Well, at least you've got each other for company: the outsiders on Barrayar.
What: Arrival on Barrayar and what follows
When: January 2nd - January 17th
Where: Barrayaran guerrilla camp
Warnings: None (at the moment)
welcome to barrayar.
It's the dark of night when you come to in the foothills. Snow on the ground, chill winter wind whistling. A steep mountain range towers just ahead, its peaks illuminated by the light of two moons. Whatever you last remember, it isn't how you got here, and you feel oddly jetlagged, slightly queasy.
And you're not alone. There are nine other people close by, all looking equally lost and confused. But before any of you have a chance to figure out what's going on, the soldiers arrive.
They're dressed in weather-worn green uniforms, bearing swords and bows, and they surround you immediately, poised to attack. But they quickly realize you're not their enemy, the ones they call Cetagandans. They're just as confused as you are, but rather than hanging around to puzzle it out, they start shepherding you toward their camp in the mountains while it's still dark. There's a war on, they say, and you unlucky bastards have just been dropped right smack in the middle of it.
the guerrilla camp It's a few hours' hike through the mountains to get to their hidden camp, set up in a clearing framed by dense, hard forestry and backed against a rock face. Daylight is finally dawning when you make it there. You and your fellow sudden arrivals are ushered to an empty tent on the far end of the camp, just big enough to fit all ten of you. You can't help but notice they've posted guards all around it. You aren't under arrest – they just don't know what else to do with you.
You are able to glean, from hearsay and what the soldiers are willing to share with you, that you are on a planet called Barrayar, and this is their home, and ten years ago they were attacked without warning by the Cetagandan Empire. They've been holed up in the mountains fighting against their invaders ever since, outgunned and outmanned, but scoring little victories where they can. They don't tell you much more than that. Some dialect of Russian seems to be one of the predominant languages of the camp, but for the most part they all speak English too, if with an accent. They're gruff and wary, and if you look a little less – or more – than human, they'll eye you with suspicion, maybe even make obscure hex signs at you that seem intended to ward off evil or disease. But they aren't hostile to you, not unless you start something with them.
the outsiders' tent
It's not in the greatest shape, but if you look around the camp, the rest aren't much better off. It's cramped, but you've at least been provided with bedrolls and heavy wool blankets to ward off the frozen chill, and if you're in need of clothing, they'll provide it, although it probably hasn't been washed in…a while. The soldiers bring you food at mealtimes -- not very good food, mostly tough meat and groats, and they keep you your own campfire, just to keep you warm. They've also hastily dug you your own latrine area at the edge of the perimeter, just behind the treeline. No private bathroom stalls in this outfit, unfortunately. The entire camp seems tense and wary, and the soldiers are alert, but they don't talk much. You could try sneaking past them, but you probably won't get far.
Well, at least you've got each other for company: the outsiders on Barrayar.
no subject
Just so. Though you will have great difficulty getting off planet now. The Cetagandans are surely blocking all access.
no subject
Excuse me. I need a moment.
[ Devi, Galahad, Tesla, they need her ( she needs them ). The desperate of Whitechapel. What is it but one more group of people she cannot help, she cannot be there for, that she must choose between. How many times must she face these things, over and over again?
For her ire is one thing, happy enough to share the snarling words, but this desperate grief in the back of her throat is another. Grabs her jacket, her sash, and without further explanation, she marches back out the tent. It's laughable, where is she going to go being kept like this? Nowhere, again, just caught, always caught. ]
no subject
After a moment, though, he does reach out to put a hand on her arm. ]
We'll get you home. One way or another. I swear it, my word as --
[ He almost said Vorkosigan just then. Goddammit. ]
You have my word.
no subject
Looks at his hand without looking at his face. There is so conspicuously nothing in her expression for it. He swears, does he? At least they're mutual in hiding who they are, as she catches that almost slip. Perhaps that will be how she will come to trust that word.
She nods, the once, lets him, takes the assurance she - cannot do anything with, not right now. But she lets him set his hand on her, and doesn't shrug it off. Maybe that's nothing, but it's as much as she can manage at this moment. Lock it tightly, keep it down to a place that when she can breathe she can do something with that knowledge. That promise. ( She doesn't trust anyone, not anymore, she can't. Gopal and his letters, Tatya Tope and his cowardice. There Lycans in their skins of men, the knights so corrupted in their eternal purpose. Paranoia that runs like deep waters now. )
Not rejection - but she needs her space, right now, little as they have and she says nothing as she steps out of his touch. No, not much, but she doesn't shove him away or throw his words back in his face where that might be easier for him. Nothing is stopping her getting out into that cold air and taking as many breathes as she needs. ]