[ 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

VORKOSIGAN SURLEAU

[forwardmomentum]

Nestled into a hill at the edge of a broad, clear lake is Vorkosigan House at Vorkosigan Surleau, a two-story building made of stone with an expansive stables in the generous acreage behind it. Originally a converted army barracks, Vorkosigan House has a long and hearty history of renovation and redecoration, most recently by Miles's mother. With two wings and a history-rich attic, the house is perfect for idle wandering, although it's only minimally staffed when the Count and Countess aren't in the district.

The adjoining lake, a favored summer spot of Miles's childhood, is perfect for swimming in the sun, or, if you're so inclined, a little sailing. Vorkosigan's District, situated farther south than Vorbarr Sultana, enjoys warm and sunny summers, and it's home to the famed Dendarii Mountains, an instrumental strategic location during the resistance against the First Cetagandan Invasion in Miles's grandfather's time. A striking network of mountains and caverns with a distinctive gorge running through it, the Dendarii are the home to Vorkosigan District's hillfolk, and they make a beautiful sight from an airflyer.

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."

Miles~

[hellsbel]

A uniform is out. Military-mad Barrayar would surely want to know where the Moiran one came from, and Miles shouldn't be seen with a Dendarii mercenary in his own District, even supposing the clone story has reached them already. A Betan sarong is also out, for a multitude of reasons. In the end, Bel selects a pair of deep maroon slacks, with the most culturally ambiguous tunic obtainable over the matching knit top. The dark dust-blue had seemed less intense in brighter company in the shop on Beta, but there's also such a thing as too much fitting in.

It's one place Bel has never visited, in all the fleet's travels. Brutal, imperial, long-isolated Barrayar, dragging itself out of feudalism inch by bloody inch, refusing to be changed or conquered even as galactic influence trickles in, insisting with stubborn, furious unity on its own self-concept....

Standing beside Miles on the Ingress platform, Bel touches his shoulder and murmurs, "I feel a little like somebody about to meet the parents."

In a good way, mostly, though the Viceroy and Vicerine are probably still on Sergyar. Still, Bel's hand lingers on Miles's arm until it's his turn to open the way.

[forwardmomentum]

Miles laughs, because he hadn't even thought of it that way. He almost offers to introduce Bel to his parents, but -- no. Perhaps not the best idea right now, and he doesn't even know if his parents are actually here. Well...if they run into the Count and Countess, Miles will figure it out.

"Well, it is your first time on Barrayar, right?" Miles grins. He's so proud of his stupid planet, he's practically glowing. "So...what do you want to see? I could take you to the lake if you want, or to the stables, or a tour of Vorkosigan House..."

[hellsbel]

He is glowing -- a different pride of possession-and-place as when he's with the fleet, but it shines bright as flame in his stance and delighted face. Back home, of course, he'd never spoken of Barrayar in Lord Vorkosigan's voice, except once -- in urgent desperation to his clone-brother, on an audio recording erased once he'd returned safely to the fleet. He can now, Bel listening avidly over drinks or when they're alone, making up for lost time.

But this--

They're on a hillside, in an early spring right out of a holovid. Sky the vivid, shocking blue of animated ceilings and moving-picture windows, blue as Earth; grounds rolling on forever, lovingly tended, glowing with their Terran-vivid transplanted greenery. Trees, made of real living wood, tangled branches flung haphazardly high. Bird-song. A graveled path leading artfully up toward the house perched on the hilltop, its wide windows reflecting the scenery, and downward toward a vast lake -- larger alone than any of Beta's saline "seas" -- shining under mid-morning light.

Bel turns in a slow circle, trying to take everything in at once, not quite succeeding, their reply a moment delayed. "It is. For some odd reason--" eyes glinting just a bit brighter, glancing at their host -- "the fleet's never operated near Barrayar." There'd been other barriers, skipped in visiting through an Ingress; no harassment at customs, no hostile warnings to stay away from normal people, no stares in the streets; hostility and danger seem impossible here.

Turning back to Miles with a little incredulous headshake, Bel grins back. "This is all so sudden, Lord Vorkosigan. I hardly know where to start." But there's a real touch of almost-reverence under the light words, and another look at him brings the answer. "Miles -- show me where you would go first, if you'd come home for a visit."

[forwardmomentum]

Miles positively beams at Bel's reaction, looking enormously pleased with himself. Good. Better than good. From what he's heard, his mother's initial reaction to Barrayar hadn't been altogether different.

"If I'd come home?" Miles echoes. "Vorkosigan House, I guess. Not sure if anyone's there or not, but..." He grins still, holding his arm out to Bel. "Shall we, Captain Thorne?"

VORBARR SULTANA

[forwardmomentum]

Easily the most modern city on Barrayar, the planet's capital and center of the Empire is a bustling hub of activity, a gradually shifting meld of new and old. Vorbarr Sultana is a piece of history in and of itself, a roadmap of modernization as galactic technologies and trends have permeated and spread throughout Barrayar in a frantic race to catch up with the rest of the Nexus.

The famous Star Bridge is located in the oldest part of the city, once the site of a historic battle, and crosses the large river that runs through Vorbarr Sultana. Overlooking this river is Vorhartung Castle, an old, forbidding fortress which houses both the Council of Counts, when in session, and a military history museum that includes such attractions as the scalp of the Mad Emperor Yuri, who was dismembered alive after a successful coup. The Imperial Residence, however, has been renovated more recently, one of its wings having been entirely redone less than thirty years ago. The gardens at the Residence are famously beautiful, a timeless collaboration between some of Barrayar's finest horticulturists ordered by the previous Emperor Ezar.

Ivan, come on down!

[deal]

Cassandra doesn't particularly know Ivan well, but figures that in order to avoid being back on the ship and all the drama going on there, Ivan will do as far as travel companions go. So she grabs him by the wrist and drags him toward this planet's ingress, and doesn't hesitate in shoving him in first. Just so there's no hesitation on his part. She hops through and lands flat on her feet, a little disoriented as she looks around.

It takes her a grand total of two seconds to realize they're up high, likely atop a skyscraper taller than anything she's ever seen before. Her eyes are wide as she looks around the area, the lights and buildings more impressive than anything she's seen in a while. Grateful that she doesn't seem to have any piece of her home here, she glances over at Ivan and smiles.

"Is this where you're from?"

[whatdidisay]

Cassandra hit it right on the mark -- Ivan's willing to do anything except go back and stay on a ship full of people trying to murder each other. He doesn't expect the shove, however, and tries to protest with a cut-off Hey before the world reorients itself around him and he's home.

He's not sure where, just yet, but he can't help but nearly rush to the window to see the city sprawl out beneath them, smile spreading over his face as he takes it all in. "Yeah, Vorbarr Sultana. Planetary capital of the Barrayaran Empire." He points, off to the left to a sprawling stone building surrounded by gardens. "That's the Imperial Residence, where the Emperor lives and works. We're... south of it, so this has to be one of the newer residential buildings they put up. Good, because I'm not sure anyone would believe me if I said how I got here."

And hell, he doesn't even have his usual ImpSec permitter. What would it take for Gregor to get married and take that heat off of him, Ivan doesn't know. But he wishes the other man would do it soon.

"Pick a place and we can go there, if you want." All that you see, Cassandra.

[deal]

She isn't sure where to pick, because there's so much out there that she sees that catches her eye. "Are the gardens impressive?" She questions him, like she only has an interest in seeing things that are impressive. Honestly, she likes seeing anything that's not destroyed or filled with things that might kill them.

"You could always show me your favorite place, you know. That has to be better than me picking somewhere at random."

Besides, she wants to see where someone who admits they're horrible at manual labor would choose as their favorite place back home. She's sure it will be an interesting choice.

[whatdidisay]

"They are, actually. Kind of surprising, too, given what everyone has to say about the Emperor who commissioned them. Although the guy in charge before him hired an architect who couldn't design for anything. The public eventually put it to an end. Not through the dismemberment they put his patron through, too. There's still a few of his buildings around." Mainly the ImpSec Headquarters, which Ivan will avoid at all costs currently. Although they probably wouldn't be mad about him escorting a woman around, just resigned. There's a thought.

But as for her question -- "There's a nice part of the city by the river. Very touristy, caters to a Galactic taste more than the rest of the city." He takes his girlfriends there a lot. "Great restaurants, too. And they should have my information on file if we want to eat so I don't have to dig around for my credit chit."

milesssss

[hohnkai]

Thán takes the jump directly after Miles, expression schooled into something that is polite and neutral. As he is unfamiliar with Barrayar, Vorbarr Sultana leaves him curious but also extremely cautious. He doesn't know the place, the people, or culture so he's putting a lot of trust in Miles just by coming here.

"Where will you show me first?"

Since that's why they're here, to see everything that another crew member's world has to offer, and also, for Thán, to see what might have influenced Miles into becoming the person he is now.

"I'd rather skip the.. visitor stops and go to the important places, if you don't mind."

[forwardmomentum]

Vorbarr Sultana is a vibrant, bustling place, full of life as the people go about their daily lives. Barrayar stops for no one, certainly, and Miles stands with Thán on a sidewalk as people weave past them. No one seems to pay Thán any mind, but if he's paying attention he'll notice that quite a few people are giving Miles a slightly wider berth, and some of them give him momentary looks as they pass -- some wary, some disdainful or disgusted, and some just plain staring. If Miles notices, he doesn't show it.

"The important places?" Miles cocks his head up at Thán and smiles. "You mean the ones important to me? I take it you're not big on tourist traps. Well, let's go home, then. C'mon, I'll take you to Vorkosigan House."

He glances down at his wrist, but he's reminded that he's wearing his MID, not a wristcom, and he can't exactly call Armsman Pym for a ride. Ah, well, they're not far on foot, either. Miles could navigate this part of Vorbarr Sultana blindfolded and backwards -- at night, no less.

[hohnkai]

"Yes, the ones that are important to you."

Thán didn't really care about any of the other areas on this planet. He was here because this was Miles' world, and seeing it meant knowing more about him.

"I've seen enough of tourist traps, I don't need to see anymore."

He steps in close, lowering his voice. Thán prefers to be more prepared, but it was a spur of the moment decision to come here, so he hadn't had the opportunity.

"You'll warn me ahead of time if there's something I should be careful about? People I should or shouldn't address. Particular customs that your people find offensive."

[forwardmomentum]

Miles's eyebrows twitch up at that question. A fair one, considering where they are. Barrayar's customs are rather arcane by galactic standards, but somehow he doesn't think that someone as diplomatic as Thán is going to make the same mistakes as some of his very galactic friends.

"Well, the gap between the Vor and the proles isn't as wide as it used to be," Miles muses as they head down the sidewalk, "but Barrayar's a bit, er. Formal, by galactic standards. If someone's introduced to you as Lord or Count or any title like that -- use it when addressing them. Ditto for military ranks, although that's more polite than it is socially compulsory. We're, ah, kind of big on the whole military thing here."

A bit of an understatement, but Miles gives Thán a lopsided grin as they turn the corner, ignoring a passerby who makes a hex sign at him as they pass. "Barrayarans are fond of social order. My mother says it helps uphold the mass delusion that is the Vor system. We were cut off from the rest of the Nexus for seven hundred years, until my grandfather's generation," he adds as a footnote. "Still on horseback and wielding swords when a new wormhole route to our local space was discovered. There's still a great deal of adjustment."

And it shows in the city -- a constant melding of old and new, stitched together so fast they haven't had time to melt into one another yet.

calling all ivans.

[t65]

[Once, when Luke was little, he talked to a pilot from the Core. She'd been some kind of spice runner, and she'd said that you could always tell if someone was from the Outer Rim by how they stared at tall buildings. He thinks of that now that he's left openly gaping at the castle they've built on the edge of a lake. He never knew still water could be so reflective; it had never occured to him. The effect is stunning.]

[Eventually, Luke remembers that he's here as a guest. Luke looks over his shoulder as Ivan.]

This is- this is your home? [He's very obviously impressed.]

[whatdidisay]

"Well, not the castle. I'm no count's heir like Miles or Gregor, but yeah. Barrayar." No, he's just titled because his grandfather made the mistake of marrying a Vorbarra princess. He grins at Luke's expression -- farm boy, absolutely. But it's not a cruel smile; Ivan love his city even if he lacks the obvious attachment to the planet as a whole like Miles and Gregor. They're technically required to.

Still grinning, Ivan gestures around them. "Well? What do you think?" He can tell, he just wants Luke to say it.

[t65]

Luke is never slow to express his appreciation for something; maybe that's to do with being some kind of outer rim hick, or maybe it's just part of the unbearable Skywalkerness of being. Regardless, Luke pipes up right on time. "It's amazing! I've never seen anything like it. Not outside of holos, and those don't do them justice at all."

He beams. "You're not a count's heir-- where do you live?" Where, Luke wonders, do the normal people of this planet live?

(Ha.)

not illya kuryakin

[smoothaf]

Of course Napoleon was going to take Ivan along. If they ended up in his world then he could pretend the other man was Illya to avoid answering any inconvenient questions he might get about his absence and if they ended up somewhere else then he'd get to see what kind of world produced this kind of man.

And he has no idea where they were. But they were inside and the stone walls made it look like they were in a castle of some sort, perhaps he needed to venture outside to get a better idea. The hallways are currently deserted, but Napoleon has the feeling that won't last long.

"Do you think this is your place or mine?"

[whatdidisay]

"Mine," Ivan says without thinking. It just feels like Barrayar. He doesn't mind the not-Clark tagging along, although he's still not sure how all of that works out in the end. "And we're about to get in a hell of a lot of trouble if we are where I think we are."

Like the lower levels of the older part of the Imperial Residence. ImpSec should be swarming them-- Ivan might be related to Gregor and not-Clark might be with him, but he's still an unknown. And Ivan's still someplace he's not supposed to be without prior warning.

God, he doesn't want to get in trouble. He would very much like to stay out of it!

[smoothaf]

So they're somewhere they're not supposed to be, Napoleon likes this place already. If they were allowed in with no problems, it couldn't have been worth visiting.

"We'll be fine, there's no one around."

They can't even hear the distant sounds of people going about their day. This is either a highly secure facility or abandoned and he hopes it's the former.

MAMERE. i mean lady vorpatril.

[whatdidisay]

When he first set foot back in Vorbarr Sultana, it had felt like a dream. Solid land under his feet, open sky. His regular near-twenty seven hour day. But the more he spends here -- the longer he's here -- the more that the Moira feels like the dream. Unreal, fading in his mind's eye until he thinks it's a half-remembered reality. But then he'll move, he'll think of someone he met there, and the memories come flooding back.

He's taking his mother to Vorbarr Sultana this time, figures she should have a chance to see what the future of the place looks like. Something that isn't still being rebuilt from the Pretendership, the Vorbarr Sultana she controls in a different way than the rest of their family, but controls all the same. Lady Alys Vorpatril is a woman no one should cross.

They're currently on the Star Bridge, and Ivan gestures to where the Imperial Residence is. "Gregor's done a pretty good job with everything. And I don't mean that lightly, and he'll probably deny it when asked, but--" He's a good Emperor. Probably the best they've had since Dorca. Which just makes Ivan wonder what epitaph they're going to put on his name when he's dead and gone. Gregor the Great?

[hostessing]

This isn't the Vorbarr Sultana she remembers. Almost an entire generation has passed her by judging by the date she's seen in passing. The face of the whole planet is changing and growing and it's clear the future is bright. Her generation's sacrifices in their primes had meant more than she could have hoped for.

It's relieving to see everything still standing and Gregor's reign succeeding, but the more she's here, the more she's made aware that this isn't home. It's Barrayar, but she can't stay here. As flawed and scarred as her period of Barrayar is, it's the one she needs to return to in order to make sure all of this is possible. She knows her role in this, the one she's to take on once Gregor is old enough.

She keeps pace with her son and glances towards the motion of his hand before nodding. "I was hoping that would be the case when I saw him. It's different seeing it." The culmination of all their effort focused on one young man. It's remarkable it all came together.

[whatdidisay]

Those of a more poetically inclined nature than Ivan Vorpatril might find something touching to say about sacrifice, but Ivan's well aware of the cost, thanks very much. Why dwell on it when he's had his yearly reminder a month or so ago? He turns back to his mother, and for a worrying second Ivan doesn't recognize her until she sharpens in his mind's eye into his mother as he knows her before that fades and he's back facing his younger mother.

Right.

"I don't remember much of it being different growing up, but I guess that means Uncle Aral did alright, too."