sunchime | [ the open york post: comeback edition ]

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[ the open york post: comeback edition ]

hello welcome to the very specific genderbent au york i have been playing for like 15 years this is the only york i play now

Agent York // Natalie van der Haast (AU)
AGENT YORK - AU INFO
Name: Natalie van der Haast
Background: Grew up in south Jersey with three older brothers, a piano teacher for a mom, and an auto mechanic for a dad. Comfortable upbringing, though she got into her fair share of trouble growing up. May or may not have joined Project Freelancer as an alternative to other punitive measures in response to some questionable things she may or may not have done with classified information as a soldier.

LOOKING FOR...
Gen: Action (I LOVE to write action/fight scenes), AI drama (gotta have it), mystery and plot intrigue, h/c as long as it's also kinda funny. Missions and heist shit. I love heist shit soooo much I can't get enough of it
Ships: My main ship interests are Wash, Carolina, and Maine, but I can be sold on most York ships. finger guns
I also love a stupid drama triangle, especially when one of them has been dead for a while

I'm down for both shippy stuff and gen threads and I'm down for smut. Feel free to throw down a top level with whatever your heart desires, but here are some prompts to help get the ideas goin'

CANON POINTS
Project Freelancer: Pretty much any canon point in here is golden. Great for actiony missions and AI drama. And also of course the high concentration of pure Freelancer drama.
Post-Freelancer/Out of Mind: That (mumbles)-year period when she's out planet-hopping looking in search of Carolina until she meets her untimely demise at the hands of Wyoming. that ass hole
Recovery One: Yeah yeah York is dead at this point but hey. What if she wasn't

YORK LIVES AUS
The staple of every York player. Here are some of my favorite scenarios to work from but I am ALWAYS down to try new things
Out of Mind/Recovery One: Wash (or someone else!) gets to York before she fully kicks it and patches her back up. And then it's unfinished business time (of both the Carolina and/or Maine variety). Or Freelancer Drama: Electric Boogaloo.
Chorus (option A): York goes to prison for Freelancer Crimes instead of dying and winds up on the Tartarus. Now she's working with Felix and Locus to take out Wash and Carolina. Bonus AI brain trauma from having Delta removed. Freelancer drama cubed.
Chorus (option B): By whatever bulllshit means, York is brought back to life on Chorus somehow. It's been a while since I watched the Chorus trilogy but isn't there something funky with portals in those seasons? idk it's not important. It's RVB anything is possible. The point is: opportunity for really really rich Freelancer drama when your dead friend for whom you've grieved is suddenly back in your life. Also York and Tucker are funny

MISC AUS/PROMPTS
AI Swap: York draws the short straw and gets Epsilon instead of Delta. Things go about as well for her as they did for Wash in canon, but differently bad. Who's here for some hardcore dissociation. Optionally: York is Recovery One.
Ejection Trauma: York loses Delta for one reason or another (AI recall during Project Freelancer. The Meta gets to Delta but she survives. Some other third thing. Take your pick) and transitioning to being alone in your own head is really fucking hard. Who's here for even more hardcore dissociation
Texting: who needs a log when you could do a tfln
Setting Swap: Project Freelancer is very easy to AU into other settings. Like soooo easy. Hit me up I love Project Freelancer setting AUs.

Feel free to hit me up at

runawayballista for plotting!

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“Oh, he’ll probably know all about it already,” Gregor says, sounding almost casual. “If he asks you, it will be to check if you’re lying to him. I sincerely disrecommend trying it.”

Gregor looks a little pained under her gaze, opening a hand helplessly.

“I know it’s not what you wanted and I apologize, but he was very persuasive. And it might be interesting for Delta to speak with him also—he’s the person I know with the Illyrican memory chip.”

Edited 2025-08-07 23:31 (UTC)

York lets out a little whistle.

"Damn. Must not be one of the first-gens, then, or he wouldn't still be working for you." She pauses, knowing this is neither the place nor time for Delta to make a physical appearance. "D says he'd like to meet him, too. Sounds like we've got a little in common. And don't worry — I didn't come this far just to shoot myself in the foot. I'm not gonna lie to this guy. Might just ask him a few of our own questions."

She rolls her neck from side to side to get a good crack in. "So, when do we leave? Are we riding in Barrayaran first class with you, or will we just have a very fancy compartment in the cargo hold?" She's mostly kidding; she knows Gregor is invested in being hospitable. "And about how long does it take to get to Barrayaran space from here? Never been, never tried going."

“Indeed,” Gregor says mildly—Simon is fine, mostly (he didn’t lose his mind, at least) but Gregor has his own opinions about callously his grandfather had treated the lives of his loyal subjects by letting them be experimented on. He shakes off the dark thought and his mouth quirks.

“I thought we’d put you back in your ship and tow it the whole way, give you some privacy. No, there will be private quarters arranged near mine—unless you’d rather be in your ship, which could be done if you’d honestly prefer it to being on a giant ship filled with Barayarran military types. I would understand if that were the case.”

"Aw, but I'd get lonely without my buddy to hang with," York says with a grin, then adds, "Your Imperial Highness." Mostly for the benefit of his armsmen. Poor suckers. Must be hard to have a rod professionally rammed up your ass.

"I'll take the private quarters on your cushy ship, thanks. And I'm headed to a planet full of your folks — might as well get a little exposure therapy in."

For her, or for them? Maybe both!

“Maybe we can get them used to you calling me ‘Greg’ slowly, over the course of the trip,” he suggests, his eyes bright.

“If anyone gives you any trouble—and they should not—please don’t hesitate to let me know. You’re Our personal guest, though, I hope the crew of the Prince Serg is smarter than that. As for your other question, we will be leaving as soon as possible, likely in the next half-hour. Anything you need to wrap up here?”

"I'm sure it'd build character. You guys are all about building character, right?"

They totally are. York doesn't want to cause any cardiac events, but a twitching eye or two might be funny. Oh, but she doesn't want to cause too much trouble for Greg.

She shakes her head. "Me? I'm about as wrapped up as it gets. I was ready to be out of this system four hours ago."

“Something like that,” Gregor murmurs, his mouth curving. “And, in that case, we can leave immediately. My business here is very thoroughly concluded, and my government is anxious to have me home.” He offers York his arm.

“Shall we?”

Ohoho, and York gets to be all fancy about it, too. She takes his arm with a grin.

"By all means, Your Imperial Highness. Show me the way to your very fancy ship."

“Oh!” Gregor straightens suddenly, turning towards York, his face lighting.

“I forgot about the good news. I can explain on the ship if you’d like.”

"Oh, shit, you're right. I got all caught up in the fancy accommodations." York shrugs one shoulder. "By all means, hit me with it. I never turn down a chance for good news. Let's talk on the way, though."

Call her crazy, Greg, but the longer she stays here, the itchier the back of her head feels. Someone's liable to make it a target if she sticks around too long.

It doesn’t take them long to get everything loaded up and on the way home. Gregor has never presented himself as anything other than calm and relaxed except for the brief fight they were in, but he looks somehow much more comfortable after the Prince Serg is out into space and well away from the station.

York is introduced to her quarters as they get deeper out into space, but Gregor snags hold of her arm again before she can venture too far in.

“The good news,” he says, a little conspiratorial. “Come on, it won’t take too long.”

It's nice to see Greg relaxed — well, as relaxed as the ruler of a multiplanetary empire probably ever gets. He'd handled the situation pretty well, all things considered, but that doesn't mean it wasn't stressful. She likes this Greg, she decides. It suits him better.

York raises an eyebrow as he takes hold of her arm, but she offers no resistance. "Oh, yes," she says, grinning. "I wanna hear all about this good news."

He seems...almost excited to share it with her. Which is nice, but he doesn't strike her as the excitable type.

Gregor tries to smooth his expression as best he can, but he can tell York is going to like this so it’s difficult. Nobody even bats an eye as they both go into his (expansive, still-guarded) quarters and settle on opposite sites of a table in the room.

“Fewer than ten people in the universe know about this,” he says, looking serious for a moment. “So I will need to ask you to be discreet please. But I trust you, so here it is—the reason I could promise you a place with the famously Betan Admiral Naismith is that he’s not Betan, he’s Barrayarran, a direct vassal secundus to me, and my cousin. The story of how he acquired his mercenary fleet is quite a fantastic one.”

York's eyebrows go up, and then both her eyes pop wide open. If she didn't already know that Greg's a pretty serious guy, she'd swear he's fucking with her. She leans back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest, and tries to let that one permeate.

"No shit," she says, still absorbing. That must be a hell of a story. Jesus, Barrayarans are batshit. "Hey, you realize it is insane that you're trusting me with this information considering six hours ago I was about to sell the Cetagandans information for what was probably an assassination plot against you, right?"

“It wasn’t personal,” Gregor says casually, half-shrugging. “And, you’re already sworn to me, and you’ve agreed to work for the Dendarii on top of that. The fact that this is such a secret means there are precious few individuals who are able to liase between Barrayar and the Dendarii. I’m hoping you’ll be one of them.

“But yes, Miles washed out of the Imperial Military Academy and went on a vacation to Beta Colony, where he acquired a freighter ship by accident, then an engineer, then a cargo to the middle of a war zone so he could pay off the freighter. Once he was there he managed to board and take over the first mercenary ship he encountered, made up a fake mercenary identity of his own so nobody tried to revolt, and the rest sort of… unraveled naturally from there. He did very much want to be in the military, and he tends to manifest the things he wants, miraculously. Like I said, I think you two will get along quite well. He’s very interested in second chances.”

York doesn't think that it's possible for her eyes to get any wider, but this series of events as described is absolutely insane. She finally lets out a short laugh, slapping the table. "Yeah, I've gotta meet this guy. And he's your cousin?"

Delta appears at her shoulder, now that there's no one else to witness him. "The odds of pulling off a series of such maneuvers is...extraordinarily low. Reassessing mental stability."

York rolls her good eye. "Ha ha, D. Dunno if you noticed, but you've gotta be at least a little bit crazy to pull that kinda shit off."

Present company included.

“His mother raised me,” Gregor says, a soft laugh in his voice. “I think you both will get along with him quite well. Miles is a professional at extemporizing, he has been since we were children. He’s a little crazy, but in a way he manages very well. He’s perfectly able to run a mercenary fleet, at least.”

"Well, shit, I'd like to meet her too," York says, drumming her hands on the table. So Barrayar is full of more interesting people than she'd thought. "Managing crazy is more impressive than plain old sanity to me. Leaves you some margin for error."

She'd know — most of her friends are crazy. And dead. "So I guess after I have a little chat with your security guy, I'm shipping off to wherever your cousin Admiral's got his fleet at now, right? I'm guessing you don't get to see me off any farther than the shuttleport."

What a shame — she'd love to have Greg introduce her to this guy personally. And he seems like he could stand to get out more.

“That can definitely be arranged,” Gregor says, suppressing a smile. “I think she’d like you very much.

“Probably not even to the shuttle port,” he says. “Your departure will need to be fairly discreet, and while I might go unrecognized other places, Barrayar likes very much to be aware of where their Emperor is at all times. Much as We would like to visit the Dendarii, that is not in Our future, unless it also involves blowing their cover wide open.”

"Now that's a damn shame. You deserve a good vacation every once in a while, Greg."

Does accidental kidnapping count as vacation? Probably the closest he'll ever get. And doubly a shame that she's not going to get to see Greg and his insane cousin in a room together. Sounds like Barrayar has enough attractions to keep her busy for a little bit. She wonders how soon Greg is thinking of shipping her off. She hadn't liked the idea of going to Barrayar first, but now it seems like it could be...interesting.

"So what do you get to do for fun?"

“Alas, I am rarely in a position to have one. Running an interplanetary empire is a time consuming job. I play Strat-O when I can find an opponent and I read. I also very occasionally get drunk, but only on good days. There isn’t room for much else.”

Gregor tilts a crooked smile in her direction—but she had treated him almost exactly the same when she didn’t know he was an emperor as when she did, and he trusted her. He had learned his eye for personnel from Aral, he could lean on it sometimes.

“I can’t imagine you’ve had a vacation from watching your back in quite a while either. I encourage you to enjoy it. If anybody is determined enough to give this ship trouble, they’ll be looking for me and not you. Feel free to relax.”

"Oh, I am," York reassures him, making a comedic show of getting even comfier in the surprisingly comfortable chair. Most ship furniture isn't this nice, but hey, when you're traveling on the Emperor's dime, if that's a saying. "Maybe it doesn't look it, but believe me, this is the most relaxed I've been in years."

"York, your heart rate is still elevated, and your adrenal glands are active," Delta says pointedly. "I suggest that this does not meet the criteria for being 'relaxed'."

York rolls her one good eye and waves a hand through Delta's hologram, like she's batting away a fly. He flickers, but perhaps petulantly, refuses to disappear.

"Alright, alright, I'm workin' on it." York leans forward, elbows on the table, fingers laced together. "So. Is today a good day, Greg?"

Come on, she knows you have to have booze on board, even if it's not the fancy stuff. Barrayarans are, among other things, legendary drinkers.

Gregor watches her for a moment before he lets a smile curve his mouth.

“Well, I did get a little kidnapped…” he says, his eyes laughing. “But it ended up all right, so yes. I believe it is a good day. One moment.”

He gets up to rummage in a locked cabinet briefly before he returns with a crystal bottle of clear liquid and two short glasses. He murmurs something into his wrist chrono and settles himself back at the table before pouring into the two glasses and settling back with his own.

“Wait, what happens to Delta when York gets drunk?”

"Nothing, thank god." York lets out a snort. "Can you imagine if he got sauced and started running every digit of pi through my brain just for fun?"

"York is correct," Delta says. "I do not require any form of intoxication to inundate York's brain with an infinite string of numbers."

"Oh, don't you even dare," York says with an indignant look at the little green hologram, though she's also glaring at him somewhere in her mind. Delta gets the picture loud and clear. She gives Gregor a plaintive look. "Don't give him any ideas, alright? He's bad enough as it is."

She picks up the glass and swirls its contents experimentally. "So what is this? Vodka?"

Edited 2025-08-21 23:14 (UTC)

Gregor laughs softly and taps the lower edge of his glass against the side of York’s in a little toast.

“Vodka,” he says, his Barrayarran accent clearer now that he’s at home, as it were. “We do have other alcohol on Barrayar—you should try maple mead sometime—but this is what’s to hand on a ship outfitted for a diplomatic mission. So what does Delta do for fun, then? Besides torture York occasionally.”

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neverknocks - 2025-12-16 02:52 (UTC) - Expand

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