[ catch-all: barrayar ]

[forwardmomentum]

Who: Miles, Ivan and Gregor of the Vor Boy Band feat. Lady Alys and you, probably
When: gestures vaguely at May
Where: Barrayar
What: all Ingress trips to Barrayar, whether it be Vorkosigan Surleau, Vorbarr Sultana, or anywhere else on Space Russia
Warnings: TBD

Welcome to Barrayar, the planet that was cut off from the rest of the Nexus after its only known wormhole connection collapsed, leaving its meager starter colony population stranded. 700 years in total isolation saw the loss of their advanced technology and a regression to a pre-industrial and feudal society, until a new wormhole route to Barrayar was discovered and propelled them from horseback to spaceflight in the space of a single generation. Its terraforming is still incomplete, the landscape characterized by the mixture of imported Earth green plantlife and the reddish native flora of Barrayar. After a couple of generations, Barrayarans are growing more and more accustomed to galactic peoples and cultures, though they're still a little wary of outsiders, and an old and long-entrenched cultural paranoia of genetic mutation means they can be a little hostile or mistrustful of people who bear visible disabilities or who don't look quite human.

Comments

MILES...

[skelepun]

It's with a certain reticence that Sans steps into the Ingress with Miles. Not out of lack of trust or real worry, per se. Ignoring his apprehension about his own world and its variations, the idea of Space Tourism was easy for Sans to swallow. When you spent your whole life staring at the same cave walls, variety is a spice you don't often get.

And yet, hesitation.

"I don't suppose skeletons are very common around Barrayar." Sans asks, with a little casual irony from behind a scarf. The scarf is one of many items of clothing Sans has been stuffed into. Sunglasses, a beanie, gloves, and a scarf that covered his lipless mouth and absence of a nose. He's not a handsome guy to start with, but still. Unless he was cosplaying his bedroom floor, the guy looked a little rumpled. "That's too bad."

The Ingress rippled, and it's with a deep breath -- ribs rattling -- that Sans finally follows Miles through the portal.

[forwardmomentum]

"Only on the inside of people," Miles confirms. "Barrayar's a little paranoid about mutants, but come to think of it, you might fall so far outside their notions that they wouldn't even know what to do with you. They're more about, um...birth defects, and the like."

You know, like Miles.

But where they land on Barrayar, there aren't many other people. In fact they're the only ones in immediate sight, standing on the side of a grassy hill under bright sunlight. Afternoonish, Miles judges from a glance up at the sky. Around the hill, the edge of a large stone house can be seen, a wide, shimmering lake beyond it. There's the faint nickering of horses in the distance, a gorgeous view of a nearby mountain range, and the landscape is dotted with trees, both the reddish-brown foliage native to Barrayar and the greener varieties imported from Earth for terraforming. Miles takes in a deep breath -- familiar air fills his lungs -- and he grins brilliantly at Sans.

"Welcome to Vorkosigan Surleau, my friend."