forbarrayar_ooc | test drive meme

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Zarya doesn't care about Tarn taking his top off - to be honest, if she was in his position she'd probably do the same - but the other patrons... give him a bit of a Look.

"Er... you may want to. Cover up," she offers a little awkwardly. "My name is Zarya, and there are blankets near the heath."

Blankets are exactly what Tarn wants right now. He snatches one up, not because he cares that he's exposed in public, but because they're dry and pre-warmed by the fire.

"Tarn." It's barely an introduction, but honestly Zarya is lucky that she even gets that much information.

As his body begins to warm, Tarn's hands regain their feeling. He hisses as his frostbitten fingers begin to burn, pulling them up to his chest. Are they going to fall off? Is he dying?

"Be careful. Your hands might blister."

Tarn... what an odd name. Zarya doesn't think on it much, but it does stand out for her.

"Perhaps... you should see a doctor. Just to be sure. How long were you out there for?"

"Only a few hours." Barely any time at all. He isn't too keen on the idea of a human doctor prodding at him. "I'm sure that it will be fine."

Tan tucks his hands into the blanket, gritting his teeth against the sharp pain and tingling.

"I wouldn't know who to look for anyway."

"This winter is unforgiving. It might have been more than enough time."

Zarya continues watching him closely, so many questions running through her head.

"There is a clearly marked doctor's hut and pharmacy..."

Was there? Tarn hadn't seen it. It suddenly occurs to him that maybe he had and simply has forgotten. Was that a symptom of hypothermia? He can't recall...

He nods, not wanting to seem like a complete imbecile. This position is foreign to him. Tarn prides himself in being something an intelligent and well read person. But now, with everything so new and different, he hasn't the slightest clue what to do with anything. Tarn knows how to be a Decepticon but he has no idea how to be a human.

Its frankly embarrassing. Slowly a sort of flush comes over his cheeks and he fights to keep his body from nervously fidgeting.

Zarya watches that flush appear and smiles, clearly sympathetic.

"You are not used to the cold, are you?"

His flush spreads to his ears. A few different expressions, each a variation on insult, flit by on his face, before finally settling into a resigned huff.

"I suppose not. At least not feeling the cold."

Tarn kicks off his boots, peeling ooff his soaked through socks and placing them on the hearth to dry. He adjusts the blanket, pulling his knees up to his chest and covering his frozen toes. Everything hurts as his body thaws.

Being human is terrible.

"That is interesting," she says, tone indicating otherwise. "Do you live in a warm country, usually?"

"Most of my time is spent traveling. Frequently there is some level of climate control."

Tarn cocks an eyebrow at Zarya, eager to take the attention off of himself.

"You, on the other hand, seem rather used to the bitter cold. Perhaps you have some wisdom to share."

"I understand," it's not a hard concept to grasp; the technology Zarya is used to certainly allowed for climate control.

"It is not as hard as it seems. Keep warm and make sure you drink and eat a lot. Wet clothes are a death sentence, which is why I wanted to make sure you got out of them."

These organics and their fragile bodies… honestly it’s a miracle that they’ve managed to survive this long. Tarn looks down at his pile of wet clothing in front of the fire. Deciding to play it safe he does a weird shimmy beneath his blanket cocoon, kicking his pants off to join the rest. He unfolds the blanket enough to lean down and spread every article of clothing out today properly.

“Then I suppose I’ll be stuck here for while. Going back out there with damp clothing sounds like something of an irresponsible risk. I’m sure i can find something to amuse myself with in the mean time.”

Tarn stretches out, tucking the blanket back sound himself.

“Tell me then, Zarya, are you from this planet? I must admit that i feel rather out of place. Perhaps you could help to educate me on how things work around here.”

Please Help this fucker blend in.

"I am not from here originally, no. I am from Earth."

God, what a weird one. Zarya just watches Tarn work with interest.

"Cold is cold no matter where you go, I find. I cannot educate you on social customs, just how to... not die."

Earth. He's heard of the planet, of course. One of Megatron's biggest failures.

Tarn forces another smile, red eyes becoming somehow colder. He's painfully aware of every expression that makes it's way across his unmasked face and makes any attempt possible to keep his true feelings concealed.

"I see. You must miss it."

"Of course, but right now I must concentrate on this planet. It is where we are now."

She misses Earth horribly. It feels like a constant weight on her chest. The only weight Zarya can't bench...

That's deep bro...

Tarn pulls the blanket tighter around himself, his shivering beginning to dissipate. His fingers feel hot, but the burning has dulled to a negligible ache.

"That may be so, but we don't have to like it, do we?"

"You are not required to do anything, however there is a time when you can be a child and throw a tantrum, or you can do what you can to survive."

She nods towards him.

"Even if it means you must do what you don't want to."

His eyes narrow into an icy glare. A tantrum? Anger builds inside of him, threatening to bubble over. He can hardly believe her nerve.

"So you say. But, I find that blindly trusting an alien race is not exactly conducive to surviving. I hardly think that they have our best interest in mind, do you?"

"I had felt the same way, but so far they have proven that they truly care for our well-being. They could've easily killed us when we were found confused and scared in the snow, but instead they took us in."

She shrugs.

"I will return their kindness."

in Tarn's mind, he's sure that hospitality would drop off the moment they found out he wasn't of organic origin. The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

He shrugs in return.

"To each their own, I suppose. Don't look to me for sympathy when it turns out they've been using you. Actions and words are very easy to twist when manipulating someone into doing what you desire."

test drive meme

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