test drive meme

[barrayarmods]

Playlists by tsarcasm:
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

Comments

"Baphomet" | Wicked + Divine

[goodbadcompany]

Barrayan Camp - Party

If there's one thing that's the same pretty much everywhere, as far as he can tell, it's getting completely, stupidly drunk. And hey, it's not like he doesn't have practice at that, both the drunk and the stupid. So every time the booze goes round, Baphomet's right there, making sure he's taking a swig. It reminds him of university, although that's a bitter enough memory he doesn't go too far into the comparison.

The alcohol is sweeter than he'd like, worse than the time someone showed up with Skittles vodka, but it's strong enough to start getting him drunk almost immediately. Looking round, more cheerful than he's been ever since he got dragged here, he holds the bottle up for the next person, a little over-familiar as he nudges them.

"Here, you look like you could use this," he says, smirking. His canines really are very sharp, when he does.

Barrayan Camp - Next Day

He might well be the reincarnation of a god of war (and disease and death, all very valid things to be a god of out here in the middle of nowhere), but one, they took most of that away from him when they dragged him here except a few cosmetic differences, and two, he's hungover to shit. Besides, he's a god, he can get some slack on the whole camp chores thing, right?

At least, he's trying, hiding out round the back of the stables, leant against the wall. His head is pounding, and he's trying not to feel too ill. The instant he hears someone coming, he stands up a little too fast trying to look normal, only to groan and swear when it makes him feel worse.

Recon

He's not the sneakiest of people, but he's at least capable of looking after himself. And, if he's being honest, which he never is, he doesn't exactly work well with others, which as far as he's concerned isn't his problem. Plus he's not actually that useful anywhere else, given his lack of applicable skills anywhere except hitting people with a big stick, and he can't even make that flame like he used to.

And he doesn't want to die, so he pretty much makes sure he's away from any actual battlefields as much as possible.

So he's out here, in the middle of the snow, freezing his ass off to see how well the other side is dealing with repairs after the raids. He's also bored. He half-turns, still watching the camp with one eye, face half-hidden behind his shades, keeping his tone as uninterested as possible.

"So, my bet's on this being some kind of punishment for something I did. You?"

Just small talk, no deeper meaning here...

recon.

[pigsfeet]

Daryl is taking recon seriously, because screwing it up is a great way to get yourself killed. Covered in animal skins and hidden among the brushes he's dragged to their vantage point, he's pretty well hidden. He's got a crossbow drained on some Ceta's heads, watching, waiting.

When the other guy talks, Daryl just glares at him, and puts his finger over his mouth. That oughta shut him up, right?

[goodbadcompany]

Sadly for Daryl, very little shuts Baphomet up when he's on a roll. And he's been glared at by scarier than some old guy with a crossbow. Besides, the other side seem pretty busy right now, sorting out their own problems.

"No, seriously. How do you think they chose us? I mean, I'm an obvious choice- or I would be, anywhere else- but we're not exactly a coherent and well-chosen group."

[pigsfeet]

This, Daryl decides, is precisely the kind of teenager he hates. He's been lucky, he thinks, to not end up with this kind of asshole so far, but no, there's the little shit, talking his mouth off on a recon mission.

He glares daggers at the kid, and mutters, "you ain't."

So good job, Baphomet, you've annoyed him enough to make him talk. His temper's never exactly been a well-controlled thing.

party

[ex_bossily211]

"I'm not sure I should have any more." Clara's voice slurs a little as she speaks, making her accent thicker than normal. Laughter follows her slight protest, but she does reach out to take hold of the bottle. She's pleasantly warm enough that she doesn't think about sharing the bottle with him, and just takes a swig.

It burns the whole way down, making her nose wrinkle up as she shudders.

[goodbadcompany]

"That just means you haven't drunk enough yet," he says, even more cheerfully, because that's actually a really familiar accent. Not home, but at least the same country, which is pretty close considering where they are and some of the other people around. Drunken logic is good logic, obviously. Besides, it's not actually a no, and Baphomet is well trained in the art of bad choices, both his own and other people's.

Mostly, she should probably be glad there's no karaoke machine around here, even if he dreads to think what they call music here.

He smirks at the face she makes, holds his hand out for the bottle back.

"Tastes like shit, I know, but at least it works."

[ex_bossily211]

"Works for what, exactly?" She takes another drink and shudders once more, then hands the bottle back over to him. Celebrating is well and good, but she's not looking to get drunk enough that she makes regrettable life choices and winds up with a hangover the next morning.

Though judging from how hard the little she's drank is hitting her, it may wind up happening anyway. Her small size probably has a lot to do with it, and she wobbles a bit as she reaches out to grab hold of his arm to steady herself.