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For Barrayar mods ([personal profile] barrayarmods) wrote in [community profile] forbarrayar_ooc2016-11-18 09:27 am
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test drive meme

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Barrayar Cetaganda The Invasion

Have you read the FAQ?

The Village The Barrayaran Camp The Cetagandan Base The Fight



You've been on Barrayar for a while now, and you're finally starting to adjust. Or maybe you're not. Maybe this is all still too much for you – the attacks, the constant raids, living in the middle of a war zone by no choice of your own. But if you want to live long enough to make it back home one day, you might as well do what you can to help the war effort. Besides, where else are you going to go?

The fierce Barrayaran winter rages even to the southern end of the continent, and it's been none too kind to Vorkosigan's District. Temperatures at sea level are well below freezing, and up in the mountains, it's even colder. Several inches of snow already blanket most of the mountains all the way down to the Cetagandan base, and the storm that's just started up is only bringing more down. Visibility is low in the flurries, wind swirling snow everywhere, and God help you if you get lost on your own out in the storm. Nights are cold, these days.


A recent attack on the Cetagandan base has left half their facilities damaged and in disarray. Raid parties snuck in by night, planting bombs in previously scouted locations for maximum effect. Damage to the base's water treatment plant and organic grow labs have considerably impacted the Cetagandans' food and water supply, and in the chaos caused by the explosions, the Barrayaran guerrillas raided their medbay and made off with a considerable bounty of medical supplies. One man's bane is another man's boon, and while the Cetagandans have reserve supplies to sustain them for now, some of the damage is extensive and the repairs will take time. But in the meantime, the Barrayarans have scored a precious victory as well as equally precious resources.



the village
The Riverfall villagers are used to the harsh winters of the Dendarii mountains, and though they don't have much themselves, they are happy to offer what they can in terms of cold-weather clothing and extra blankets to those allied with the guerrillas. Despite the cold, the hill children are going wild in the snow, and they may try to lure you into their play by sneakily pelting you with snowballs.

Cetagandan allies, however, may not be met so warmly, and at the first sight of ghem soldiers, any children out playing in the snow will be immediately ushered into their homes. Unaccompanied outsiders from the Cetagandan base might have an easier time talking to the hillfolk, but any attempt at digging information about the guerrillas out of them will get you stonewalled fast. A sneaky hill child or two may steal away from their home to approach one of the "bad guy" outsiders to sate their curiosity.



the barrayaran camp
Morale is higher than it has been in a while after their recent victory, and the guerrillas are in high spirits. And do they ever love their spirits – as night falls, most of the Barrayarans gathered around the campfires are enjoying the deceptively named, dangerously alcoholic moonshine they call maple mead. It might start out sweet, but it burns all the way down, and a few glasses of that stuff will tank even the heaviest Barrayaran soldier.

But the storm rages on despite their celebration, and preparations must be made. Clearing as much snow off the tents as possible will help ensure that no tents collapse overnight, the horses need to be tended to, and the officers are always running training drills. Food is in real supply now, but the guerrillas need help foraging and hunting nonetheless. And when night falls, you'll have to find a way to keep yourself warm – it's a good thing there are a cozy ten of you to a tent.



the cetagandan base
The Cetagandans outnumber their guerrilla enemies almost seventy-to-one, so their base has not been completely devastated, but it hardly looks to be the work of a few raiding parties. Nothing is beyond repair, but the water treatment plant has been taken offline, which means that all water is now locally sourced and must be treated by hand with purification tablets. No one in the base will starve, but fresh food is mostly unavailable until they get the grow labs back online, which means that meals are mostly comprised of ration bars and MREs. Morale isn't exactly at an all-time low, but none of the ghem officers seem to be in a good mood.

They won't hesitate to put you to work, either. They need all the engineers and laborers they can get for the grow labs and the treatment plant, and the medbay's inventory needs to be thoroughly audited before they can send a request for more supplies. But if you need a break, it's not too hard to slip away for a little quiet downtime. Some of the lower-ranked ghem ladies might let you participate in some more artistic activities, or maybe some of the enlisted soldiers who are a little more used to you by now might invite you into one of their Cetagandan games of strategy. Or, since the treatment plant only affected potable water, you could appreciate your comfortable surroundings and take a nice hot soak in the bathroom while everyone else is working.


the fight
PVP
You're in the midst of a skirmish with the other side -- maybe you signed up for the battle, maybe you just got caught up in the fight -- but at least it's easy to tell who's on what side. Only one side is wielding swords, and the other guns.

But then you come across someone who doesn't look like they're either -- not one of the rugged Barrayarans or the face-painted Cetagandans, but an outsider, an exotic like you. They must be. So do you fight?

RECON
Maybe you're not on the front lines, but there's plenty more to winning the war than just fighting. You're partnered with another outsider on recon; the ground is cold, and you try not to let your shoes crunch too loudly on snow as you scout, scanning for patrols or supply lines.

Or maybe you're with the Cetagandans, hiking it thorugh the mountains with one of your fellow exotics in an attempt to locate the enemy camp. Except it's damned cold, and there's hidden ice everywhere, and everything is starting to really look the same.

--

Feel free to write prompts for your character on either side -- you don't have to choose just one for the TDM! Just label it clearly so folks know. GO WILD, MY FRIENDS
pigsfeet: (armpit hair of the rich & famous)

recon.

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2016-11-26 07:39 pm (UTC)(link)
[Daryl is in camouflage-- sort of. He's patched his clothes over with enough animal skins that he tends to blend in with the scenery. He has a crossbow, made and weighed carefully by hand, trained on their targets.]

[Three Ceta soldiers mill into a snowy clearing, communicating in smoky puffs of breath. They have a village boy with them, one of the hillfolk. Daryl doesn't know him, but he looks familiar. He might have run errands for the Barrayaran camp, at one time or another.]

[Daryl has been hanging back so far because it's the smart thing to do, regardless of his so-called superior officer's instruction. As one of the Ceta soldiers raises his hand to strike the boy, Daryl's not so sure. He trains his bow on the Ceta's head, taking aim.]
use_everything: (We'll see)

[personal profile] use_everything 2016-11-27 10:02 pm (UTC)(link)
[The situation unfolds fast from a simple patrol to something much, much more charged. Aral's eyes narrow, also recognizing the young boy and flicks his eyes up to the paint (flaking from the dry, cold air) adorning the ranking officer's face.

A hostage situation, a high ranking Ghem clan... Daryl may be the only man bucking orders, but it's clear in the tension and ire, that he's not the only man that wants to.

In a few fractions of a second, it's clear: there's a mutiny, a loss of command upon one side of the scales, the other side boasted a hot resurgence of conflict that a supply raid hadn't done.

And then there's one of his hillfolk at risk.

Aral unslings his bow silently, nocking and drawing aim on the commanding officer, standing back and watching the abuse. The nod was simple sign. Fire.]
pigsfeet: (high pitched whine)

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2016-11-27 10:11 pm (UTC)(link)
[Maybe this guy ('Aral' as a name sounds like he could be Daryl's cousin, honestly) isn't as yellow-bellied as the others. Maybe he isn't. It doesn't matter, but Daryl is almost certainly about to find out in the next hour or so.]

[If Daryl has sympathy for anyone in this stupid wasteful war, it's the people caught in the middle. The folks just trying to live their lives while their land is fought over with tears and blood and plasma rifles. That's more important than any idiotic land grab.]

[Daryl isn't gonna let some kid get beaten, maybe tortured, for information he probably doesn't have, all to prove an intergalactic point. Daryl aims, and he fires. The crossbow is blessedly fast, deadly silent. It goes right through the commander's temple.]
Edited (CLARITY OR SOMETHING) 2016-11-27 22:12 (UTC)
use_everything: (It sounds downright Jacksonian)

[personal profile] use_everything 2016-11-28 01:58 pm (UTC)(link)
[Aral's shot shifts quickly, taking the next nearest man down.

A crack of ozone fills the air, and a blue nimbus discharges near Daryl as one of the Cetagandans fires off a wild shot of a nerve disruptor in the man's direction. Other shots rain in quick order, taking a shoulder in one man, and buried deep in the chest of another.]


Scatter! [Both to the men and the young hillfolk boy, their best shot is bleeding them one at a time, drawing them out and separating them. The soft whine of a plasma arc charging adds a bit of urgency to that.]
pigsfeet: (#regrets)

[personal profile] pigsfeet 2016-11-28 04:48 pm (UTC)(link)
[Daryl's never been much for orders, but he's not stupid. Following what this guy says is just common sense, and if that was what every order was, Daryl would never have any problem following direction. That said, he has other plans in mind.]

[The life he lived before is fresh at the back of his mind, always is. Soldiers are one thing, but you're always safest up high, or behind a fence, or better, a wall, or up the stairs, never go down, never go to ground. Daryl scrambles up a tree with a quickness that says he's done this before, several times, a thousand times. There's barely a sound, and he's up the branches, cold and still.]

[He moved toward the group, though, not away; he has plans beyond hiding. He's got no plans to sit quiet and wait for the threat to move. Daryl watches as best he can through the snowy leaves, and when the chance is there, he reaches down to grab that little hillkid up the tree. Daryl puts a vicegrip over his mouth, puts a finger to his, anything to keep him quiet.]

[They're going to live through this if it kills him.]