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

[vorbratta]

What work?

[ sonia doesn't give up the bit -- unwisely, but she's always been the more impetuous one. he does terrify her, but what she doesn't know disturbs her even more. she takes a few long strides to step around bothari -- not quite in his way, but staying in clear view. she won't be brushed aside, dammit. ]

If you're really one of Count Piotr's Armsmen, then you'd have recognized me by face! Are you trying to tell me he's crossed Vorloupulous's Law?

[bothari]

[He snarls, looking a bit caged. He takes step back.]

No one's counting cooks right now.

[vorbratta]

[ sonia doesn't quite understand his reactions, the simultaneous of deference and that unmistakable aura of murderous intent. her brows draw down and she purses her lips. something is wrong here. ]

That's not a real answer. How do I know you're not some kind of spy?

[bothari]

[Bothari goes ramrod straight at that. The murderous aura and deference both lanced through by outright, mortal offense.

His lip curls back, showing his square teeth in some ugly parody of a smile and pulls a blade from his belt. He hadn't arrived with his normally impressive personal armory - but it hadn't stopped him from immediately collecting. A few games of dice, watching men get too far into their mead had given him a sorry but comforting array.

It's out in one, smooth, practiced motion, whistling through the air... to be thrown to her feet.]

Do it, then.

[vorbratta]

[ sonia flinches automatically, though she doesn't make a sound. she's still tense and pale even after the knife hits the ground and she looks at it only briefly, as if afraid to take her eyes off bothari. she is afraid to take her eyes off bothari. ]

What? [ she sounds stupid just saying it, but this man has her really shaken. but surely that must be a sign of honor of some kind -- or is he ready to call her bluff? because she couldn't do it. olivia, maybe, but her... ] I -- I'm not going to be your executioner. I just want you to start making sense.

[ she doesn't understand just what she's asking. ]

[bothari]

Don't matter if your hand is on the blade or not. Those words will take a head off all the same. [A Vorbarra Princess even casting the slightest doubt on a prole during war...] At least do it properly.

[Though at that last near-plea, Bothari hesitates. It's little more than an odd shift of features. And his voice goes from clear, back to that mutter.] It wont make sense.

[vorbratta]

[ she bites her lip and flinches again at the accusation -- no, the implication of what she's just done, and she blinks rapidly to fend off any more encroaching tears. no, she hadn't meant it like that. dammit. olivia's so much better at this part of being a vorbarra princess, the stupid politicking down to the last grain of sand. sonia never learned to navigate that so smoothly, so knowingly, never really wanted to. maybe that was the problem, but -- she'd never accepted being here as much as olivia had managed to. for just a moment, sonia looks so much younger than she is, plainly shaken, but then she shakes her head, expression set. ]

Try me. [ her voice isn't as steady as she'd like, so she lifts her chin and tries again. ] I want to hear it anyway.

[bothari]

[Bothari stares at her, wordlessly, jaw working. What could he do? Give her the year he's from. Claim to be one of the outsiders here but not really? Did he actually believe that either?

So here it was, that deciding where that grey line is. How likely it is that he's well past the halflife on the medications he's sorely without and how likely this is the bloody, incomprehensible truth of the world.

... The latter was unlikely. He was still stable enough to tell that much. (He hoped.)

Which means.. he needed help. It galled him, to have to ask this Vor who wouldn't take the responsibility of her own words. (Was she, though? His head hurt.) His shoulders hunch under the weight of his pride.]

I need something from your surgeon first. [He gives three names, chemical sounding and long. All potent antipsychotics.] Then I can be sure what's what.

[vorbratta]

[ sonia watches him with wide, alert eyes, feeling much smaller than she is under this man's towering shadow. she recognizes only one of the drug names, and only by chance trivia, but it's enough to give real weight to the possibility that this man is simply mad. but if he is, he knows it. her mouth opens partway, her brow knitting. ]

I'm -- I'm sorry. We don't have anything like that here -- wait. [ piotr's men had just returned from a successful raid... ] I think the soldiers brought medicine with them from the last raid. They might...

[ she crouches slowly to pick up the blade from the ground, never taking her eyes off him. it seems like the wiser move. carefully, slowly she straightens, holding the blade back out to him, handle first. ]

I can ask.

[bothari]

[He watches her, dangerously tense, a little tremble in his hands. He tracks every movement, the way she breathes, the fear and wariness coming off of her like a miasma. (He fancies he can see it. Smell it. Sometimes, in the corner of his eye, he can.)

His hand lifts, fingers curling around the hilt one at a time, as if not sure if it was the bladed end or not. It was a show of trust? He stares at her, eyes crawling over every inch of her features. And slowly, deliberately, puts it away.

He folds into a sitting position, hands on the back of his neck and elbows on his knees. His gaze trained on the ground.]

That'll do.

POUNDS FISTS ON DESK

[vorbratta]

[ she's not any less afraid of him when he takes the knife back, not even when he sits down on the ground, like -- like he's expecting -- what? to be treated like an animal, or some slave? sonia doesn't understand it, can't even begin to fathom it, but beyond that terrible, barely caged-up murderous something was someone who needed help. not the kind of man who looked like he needed any help at all at a glance, but barrayaran soldiers don't take antipsychotics for fun. at times he seemed almost to be as confused as she was.

and if nothing else, sonia can't leave her curiosity so unsatisfied.

she tries not to feel the way her skin crawls at the way he looks at her, and for a moment she considers flight, just bolting away to find armsman gavalas and use him like the shield she's supposed to, to report this man to her sister or count piotr and have them deal with him. but she senses that to betray this man's trust, however little she might have scraped out of him, would be a mistake with bigger consequences than mere offense. still barely breathing, sonia backs away step by step, until there are about twenty paces between them, and then she turns and hurries back to camp.

the chief medical officer is still burdened with the weighy task of taking inventory from the raid, and it's all still a mess, but sonia manages to use her Imperial Attitude to berate a harried med tech into giving her what she asks for, or close enough to it, without more questions than necessary to determine exactly what she does need.

she half-expects him to be gone when she gets back, but he's still there. sonia doesn't know how close she should even so much as dare to get to him, but she holds out the small, rough-hewn bag to him, a couple of bottles of pills, all stolen from the cetagandan drug banks. ]

Here. [ her voice is breathy, part from running both ways, part from lingering fear that's returned in full force now that she's back in his presence. ] They only had one of those drugs, but -- the medtech said that the others might do for compensation. As close as they could get.