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

[pigsfeet]

"Yeah," He takes some of the berries, and loops them in a knot of twine. Bending down to find a few twigs, he begins to tangle them together into some kind of well-practiced alignment. "Squirrels round here love 'em."

[littlemissfutility]

Beth puts the remaining berries away and crouches down next to him. His hands move with ease over the string and sticks, faster than she can quite follow. "Have you caught many?"

[pigsfeet]

Daryl nods, setting the trap at the base of a tree. He points to a place where the snow has been worn away, mud showing underneath. "See the tracks? Can tell they climb up this tree round here."

[littlemissfutility]

Beth peers at the little footprints, trying to commit the longish toes and fat round palms (are they palms, if they're on animals? she's not sure) to memory. "They don't look like any squirrel tracks I've seen before."

Which is to be expected, on an alien planet and with only minimal tracking experience, but it's still interesting to recognize their strangeness.

[pigsfeet]

Daryl is surprised (and impressed) that she's caught on to that. He gives her a little nudge, the closest he gets to an open congratulation. "Yeah. None of the tracks're right in this place. Gotta give it your best guess."

[littlemissfutility]

She smiles down at the snare, knowing some of the words he's not saying aloud. Whatever they are, squirrel or otherwise, they'll probably taste all right cooked over a fire; she doesn't remember as many warnings about the animals around here as the plants. Gesturing to the snare, she asks, "How does it work?"

[pigsfeet]

Daryl edges a little hole out in the dirt, and ties the loop over and under it with the help of a few supporting branches. He takes his hand and carefully draws it through the path he's made. "Goin' up the tree, little bastard sees a snack, and-" He pokes his fingers through, and the noose tightens.

[littlemissfutility]

It's so simple, but at the same time, it's complicated beyond anything a squirrel could come up with. Which means they could always have dinner, if they keep plenty of traps set.

"So we just need twine and branches," she says, trying to remember how he'd looped the string up around his hands. "And berries."

[pigsfeet]

"Berries make it work better," Daryl says, muttering quietly to himself. "Catch more that way. Gotta deal with the Count." He points his thumb back toward camp. "Gotta step up hunting for a while."

[littlemissfutility]

"So you've met him, too." She's more than willing to give over a few berries to the cause, if it means they have more meat to speak of later. Squirrels are going to keep them full longer than berries ever will--and some instinctive part of her finds the idea of eating green berries unsettling, anyway. It feels like it's going to make them sick, even though she knows it shouldn't. Beth draws her attention away from the snare for a moment, watching Daryl's expression. "What did you think of him?"

[pigsfeet]

With the trap set, Daryl stands, dusting off some of the excess snow. He nods to her, toward the camp. Time to walk back. They'll cover their own tracks.

"Seen his type before," Daryl says, helping Beth over a fallen log. "Thinks he's doing right. Always will."

[littlemissfutility]

"He has to protect his people," Beth answers, taking care to walk where Daryl does. She takes his hand and does her best not to slip over the snowy log. "And this place. Do you think he could, if he didn't think he was right?"

[pigsfeet]

"People do lotta things they know're wrong." Daryl doesn't look at her, keeping an eye out for whatever may be drawing near. He can't quite loose that watchfulness, figures it's for the best. Now the things that want him dead have guns.

[littlemissfutility]

"Maybe, but they do it for a reason." She doesn't know the count well enough to know if it's a good reason or not, but from the outside, it makes sense to her. "If it was us, we wouldn't just sit and let people try to take over our home. We'd fight."

[pigsfeet]

Daryl shakes his head. "Left the prison when it went to shit," he mutters, avoiding her eye. It was one of the worst days of her life, and he knows that.

[littlemissfutility]

Beth lets her gaze fall to the ground, telling herself it's so she can think more about her footsteps and knowing that's not true. Daryl does, too, she's sure, if he's even seen her do it; he looked away before she did, like he hated bringing it up but didn't have another choice. There are some things she'll never forget, no matter how many borrowed weeks or months she has out here. Clinging to a chainlink fence while Maggie shot through it, the gunfire drowning out the way she wept and wailed, is high on the list.

It takes time to set the memory away, back where it usually lives, and remember how to speak. I hope Daddy never wakes up here. I hope he's in Heaven, if it's real, where he belongs. "We tried. We fought until we couldn't fight anymore, and then we left."

[pigsfeet]

Daryl knows he shouldn't have said it right away. Not worth winning some stupid argument hasn't even gotten heated yet. He walks a half step over to Beth and puts his arm around one shoulder. "C'mon. Got some fat pigeons for dinner."

[littlemissfutility]

It's Daryl's way of apologizing. Beth returns the half hug, a silent it's okay; she tries to summon up a smile at the thought of pigeons for dinner, but it doesn't really work. "And squirrels for breakfast tomorrow."

[pigsfeet]

"And coffee," Daryl says, moving her along the road. He knows she doesn't like living like this, but it's a lot better than the alternative. The alternative tears him up inside. "Could be worse."

[littlemissfutility]

"We could dry out some of these plants I picked," she answers, looking for something similarly light to add. They probably ought to be drying as much of this as they can, anyway. Eventually, they're going to pick through what's available. "One of them has to taste like tea."

[pigsfeet]

"You got any friends in the village?" Daryl asks, not at all casual. Everybody should have someone they know in the village, in his opinion. "Some little old lady should know this shit already."

[littlemissfutility]

"Not yet." She's been talking to various people, but it's going to take time before she'll be able to call it trust or friendship. "But I'll ask when we get back."

[pigsfeet]

"Riverfall, they know their shit," Daryl says, "Been here before us. If they're lucky, be here after, too."

This war is going to rip the planet apart. The way things are going, Daryl doesn't see anyone winning. The planet is going to be a smoking goddamn crater, floating lonely in space.

[littlemissfutility]

"I hope so." They're outmatched in weaponry, from what she understands; depending on just how badly, they'll be a lot more likely to end up a people without a place to go. That, too, reminds her of home. Not in a good way.