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

[forwardmomentum]

"Yeah. Yeah, it would be." Miles's face goes a little distant as he contemplates not just what Barrayar might do with something like that, but what Cetaganda might do. Probably would do. He wets his lips. "Alright -- okay. Say there's an Ingress on this planet. Say we find it, and actually manage to fix it -- and that we can use it..." He draws in a breath. "Alright, I'm on board. Let's find an Ingress. Just -- one condition."

[dendarii]

He's completely drunk, having the craziest conversation of his life, and now he's considering stomping into a Cetagandan base to try and find a multi-dimensional magic bullshit portal. He doubts there's anything his double could say to put him off.

"All right. What is it?"

[forwardmomentum]

Neither of them would've made it this far into the conversation without alcohol, so thank God for maple mead.

Miles tents his fingers in his lap, biting his lip. "If we actually fix it and get the thing running, if we figure out how to use it -- we connect it to the Moira first. They actually have an Ingress we could connect to and -- I think it might fix it. Or stabilize it, at least."

And he has his word to keep. If there's a way...

[dendarii]

Miles slows a bit. His younger self may be able to read him too well ... but Miles can read himself right back.

"All right. I swear it. My word as -- " He hesitates, uncertain. "-- Myself. Whoever that is."

And that's the truest oath he can make right now. But it's not the end of his other self's story, he thinks. He looks his other self up and down for a moment. "Who are you going back to?"

[forwardmomentum]

Miles gives his older self a tilted grin. Man, it sure is a good thing they get extremely drunk to make all these important decisions. "I'll take it."

He glances away for just a second at the question, at the fire, or the middle distance in between, whatever. He puffs out his breath. "More like bringing back with." He smiles a little, ruefully. "Well -- Bel, for starters, and Ivan and Gregor, if they're still there. I don't know if they are. But there were some people -- some friends I gave my word to. Zam, J, Elizabeth... They either had no real place to go back home, or they were dead. I gave them all my word that when we got the Ingress fixed, I'd take them back here with me."

Maybe it was a stupid thing to give his word for. It was never something he could guarantee, was it? But maybe he has a chance to try. He perks up, grinning wildly at his older self. "Hey, did I tell you a recruited a shapeshifter for the Dendarii?"

[dendarii]

Ah. His expression softens instantly at the thought of leaving any of his people behind, especially anyone from home. He'd already go back for any of those people. And while he doesn't know the other names his other self is throwing around, he has faith that anyone he would make that kind of oath to is worth keeping such an oath for. "Then we'll find a way back to them," he says, straightening. "I'll swear to that too."

It probably is stupid to swear such a thing, but at least now they're both idiots.

He pauses, slightly, at the mention of a shapeshifter. And blinks at himself, temporarily derailed. "I - er. No. What?"

[forwardmomentum]

Miles is heartened by his older self's unquestioning faith in his own judgment, a weird kind of self-validation he's never been able to achieve with any certainty before. Not like this. God, this is weird, but not entirely terrible. And when they're not screaming at each other, it seems like they could work together pretty well. His grin broadens, his gaze going fond.

"Yep, that's Zam," he says brightly. "An alien bounty hunter in her world, and apparently a damned good one. But, ah, also dead, so sort of out of a job. I asked her if she'd ever thought of doing long-term contract work. It took a while to convince her, but I promised to assign her to Bel's ship." He lets out a laugh. "Can you imagine the miracle work we could pull off? Shit, just imagine Simon's reaction."

[dendarii]

What a beautiful thought that is. The Cetagadans would never see it coming - nor would anyone else, for that matter. The havoc they could wreak on Jackson's Whole ... Mark's dream of bringing the clone business crashing down could certainly be sped along with certain key applications.

And Simon, poor Simon. "He would turn purple," agrees Miles with a grin that's a bit less maniacally gleeful. He'll never get to prompt that sort of face again. Or recruit anyone else into the Dendarii, shapeshifters included. "Maybe more refugees would enjoy your Dendarii as well."

His other self's. Not his any more.

[forwardmomentum]

"I think he might actually get along with her, once he gets over the initial shock," Miles says cheerfully. "She's really very delightful. Leans toward the eclectic, but she's got a killer sense of humor."

The others, though... Miles shakes his head and rubs at his neck. "I wouldn't get too attached to that notion. Trust me, you don't want most of that ship with the Dendarii. Like I said -- a lot of people got murdered on that ship. When when I said 'murderous ten-year-old', I wasn't exaggerating. And Elizabeth and J..." He shakes his head again, biting down on his lower lip. He doesn't look as cheered as he does guilty, now.

"I don't want J anywhere near that kind of thing. I just want to get her here, set her up somewhere on Beta Colony where she can have an actual life. She doesn't want to go back home, and hell if I want her to, either. She's...a troubled girl. She deserves something better."

[dendarii]

Sometimes Miles kind of forgets that they're, y'know, a military group. The Dendarii have meant to much to him ... But he nods at that, understanding as well. Beta Colony is the better option for many. For most, even.

"Beta Colony is the place to have it," he says. "As much as I love our planet, I can't wish it on many." Just on one - whoever he ends up marrying in the end. If he ever does.

There's ... something else in there he really should comment on, isn't there. "Murderous ten-year-old? Really?"

[forwardmomentum]

"No," Miles agrees, rubbing his chin, "it's a terrible place for a young transgender woman. She's suffered enough, I think."

He sighs at that question, trying to figure out how to answer it. How does he explain Chara without explaining all of them? "I met some...very interesting people on the Moira, from a very...interesting world. Chara is...complicated. But when I say murderous, I mean it." He grimaces. "As in, actually committed a murder. But to be fair, technically Sans murdered them first. Like I said, things started to get messy on the ship after a point. Anyway, due to a particularly unique, er, aspect of their world, Chara found me sort of...threatening, I guess. Or I just pissed them off by existing, I'm not really quite sure. I'm not really sure what drove them to come at me with a hand weight, but I could either let them break my arm or break something else much more vital. They were very...complicated. Full of directionless anger and spite. Sort of reminded me of someone else we know."

[dendarii]

A wince. No, a transgender woman would definitely have trouble on Barrayar. Anyone trans would ... as would any woman, for that matter. Both at once just seems a cruel twist of fate.

Meanwhile, Miles stares at his double like he's crazy. Because what the hell. Even with comparing Chara to someone else it's difficult for him to parse that kind of ... personality? Is that the word for it? "And they were ten. Having already been murdered previously."

[forwardmomentum]

Miles knows that you're crazy stare and can only offer a shrug in response. "Far more than once, from what I gather. Like I said, they came from a very...bizarre world. Death has a sort of different meaning there, for some people. And time. If one were possessed enough of a particularly quality, it was possible to...turn back time after death. Resetting. It's -- weird. They were a mixed bunch, that crew."

[dendarii]

Miles just shakes his head a bit at that. The mead is really starting to hit him now, making his earlier enthusiasm to do something stupid turn into blurry exhaustion. "No stranger than anything else you've mentioned, I suppose. Or stranger than the two of us meeting each other."

[forwardmomentum]

They can hold off on doing something stupid until the morning. It's bound to happen anyway.

"Ha. No, not at all." Miles rubs his face and cracks a horrible little smile. "God. I'd hate to have to explain this to Mark."

[dendarii]

A faint snort. "A third Naismith clone exists after all, eh?" No, Mark would not take that especially well, he thinks. He reaches for his empty glass but only manages to knock it over.

[forwardmomentum]

That snort is almost uncannily echoed as Miles watches his older self make a failed grab for his cup. Well, the mead's all gone anyway, he's pretty sure.

"I can hear Ivan and Duv screaming, all the way from here," he says in a tone that starts out dry and ends in a snicker. He looks at his double curiously. "Alcohol tolerance any better in life after death?"

[dendarii]

All gone now, disappeared down Miles' throat. Both Miles's throats. All that's left to do is slowly collapse in his chair.

"They may explode, in fact," he says. And sighs faintly. "But no, definitely not better. Perhaps even worse."

He feels more drunk than usual, anyway.