forbarrayar_ooc | 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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Daryl doesn't budge, just stares at the lady swanning around the stables. "Depends on where you're going."

"Patrol, just to the south. Not far, mind you. Victory shouldn't make us too bold." A gesture down the path she means behind him.

For her part, however, she gives brief instruction to the groomsmen, asking them to saddle two horses for her, like she's just going to drag him along whether he likes it or not. "Besides, I could use the company. Not for our enemy, but weather like this makes predators desperate, and if we can catch any of them before they get close, it might be worth while."

Daryl narrows his eyes. He still hasn't moved, and he's folded his arms over his chest judgmentally. About as judgmentally as a man in a squirrel skin jacket can manage. "Bold like taking horses that ain't yours?"

well, shit, busted. To her credit, she doesn't look too put out by it particularly. Just faintly bemused. It's fair, so far as she has a habit of giving lip service and doing what she wants anyway .

"Slow to trust, aren't you? Who says I am not bringing them back?"

Daryl keeps on standing there, squinting over at the horse thief. "I look like I was born yesterday?"

"You do seem young." No, Lakshmi, don't give him shit. "But truly, I have no intention of depriving these people of resources, I just... needed to be away from here for awhile."

A pause, he'll say no, she's sure of it and then she can play at having tried to be magnanimous. "Here, if you come with me, you can make sure I return them?"

Daryl groans, but mostly because this proposal appeals to his sense of fairness. The hillpeople already live pretty hand-to-mouth, and the war ain't helping that none. He doesn't want to take their shit, and he doesn't trust this lady.

He shrugs and mounts the horse. "Lead the way."

Damn it, some attempt at getting a minute away. Appears to have thwarted her there, but at least he's giving her the space to do what she has been hankering for weeks. An itch that won't go away. First chance she's had where she didn't feel like she would be depriving them.

After all, she'd been the one that made the offer.

"Alright." She gestures to a bay mare for him that she'd picked. Docile enough, she'd been assured. "It should be readied in a minute or so, ask the groomsmen if you're unsure but he says she's got a fair temperament, if that suits you?"

Daryl shrugs. This lady probably knows more about the temperament of horses than he does. Daryl nods and mounts the bay mare.

"Where you going, anyway?" He's of a mind to follow her, just out of morbid curiosity. She clearly has something in mind, and it might be worthwhile to know.

She busies herself in acquainting herself with the horse - doesn't presume to the groom, he knows his job, and there were horses, there was always little differences in habits in looking after them. Not her land, after all and she is just borrowing the beast.

Leads it out of its stall after she's passed the reigns. "Where I said, down the south road. This is not my land, and if I am to be fighting for them, I ought to learn it. Battles are won on the knowledge of such things." She nods, to the squirrels on his shoulders. "As I am sure you know the importance of knowing the land, Huntsman."

"Pretty quick with that, lady." Daryl says, riding alongside her. As far as he's concerned, the war will be won on information as well as terrain. Secrets are as potent as any weapon. "You the trusting type?"

"Most wouldn't say so." Not anymore, at least. Once she had been - but she'd always been twenty and a fool, not seeing the snakes that would betray her, and her people, to a cruel fate.

"But I believe in repaying loyalty with it the same. It's a rare enough thing in the world as I know it." She settles the reigns loose in her hand - a big gelding of an animal. Brown and black and she runs her fingers idly through its mane in a brush of affection.

Which is as good a point as any, if he really lets himself think on it. He's prefer not to, though. He'd prefer to be suspicious and small-minded, keeping a closed circuit of trust between himself and Beth and maybe whoever Beth vets, if he's in a good mood.

So much for that plan.

"You got a name with all those opinions?"

"Naturally." Tosses it over her shoulder in laughter, like she doesn't have an intention of giving it at the moment where he is so busy accusing her of different intentions.

Which, granted, weren't exactly unfounded. Waits though, until they wind their way out of the village, full of people milling about and the noise that makes it hard to hear over. Rather she slows her horse until he can pull up even with her and offers her name then, more comfortably. "Lakshmi Bai."

Well, that's a hell of a name. Daryl doesn't try to repeat it, he knows he'll screw it up. Already, the syllables are melding together in his mind.

"Daryl." He doesn't offer his hand or any niceties in return. Just keeps riding.

"Well met." She's shaking her head as he rides on, and she kicks the horse under her into a trot once they are out of the way of people. Sitting up high, stiff-backed and proper, but not just for that, careful of the animal under her, to make sure it's not tired out too quickly. "It shouldn't take us too long, all things considered."

Daryl leans his head over to the side, a skeptical expression on his face. "We ain't taking the straight way 'round." He's already decided for them both.

Oh, was that so?

"Are we?" It's flatly daring, and utter disregard for what he just said, she looks at the end of the path where it diverged. "What did you have in mind?"

"Circle a few times, cover our tracks. Get there by the west gate." The gate with the best watch guards and artillery, just in case they're being tailed. It pays to be careful, especially when snow will keep your footprints.

"A sound plan," she gestures with her free hand in front of her, yanking the reigns in the other to direct the horse in a quick movement. "Lead on, I am at your command."

"Ain't ordering nobody." Way to accidentally hit a nerve, Lakch- Lags- lady. He shakes his head. "You gotta better idea?"

She shakes her head, the gold swinging with it and glinting in the cold light. "Not at all, as I said, that seems perfectly acceptable to me." Which, strange, most normally most clamoured for the opportunity. "You do not wish to give orders?"

"Ain't my war," Daryl says, as though it's that simple. It's not, but he'd like to pretend it is, thank you. "Don't look like it's yours, neither."

"No, it's not." There's something to it, though, isn't there? She's still here, where she should have been trying to find a way back. "I don't have much interest in the right and wrong of it all, either."

But, and that was it, wasn't it? What she'd never been able to refuse. Why she's still here. "But to walk away from those that need protection when we have the ability to give it? That's their blood on our hands, either way."

Daryl runs that through in his mind, teasing out her meanings. He's not quick to answer, considering softly. After a fair pause, he says, "Make it sound like people don't die either way. Good ones."

There are good people in the world. And they always die.

eyyyyyy

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