Entry tags:
- ace attorney: athena cykes,
- eureka seven: anemone,
- harry potter: remus lupin,
- harry potter: sirius black,
- homestuck: jade harley,
- homestuck: rose lalonde,
- inception: ariadne,
- killjoys: dutch,
- merlin: merlin,
- narnia: edmund pevensie,
- star wars: rey,
- the vorkosigan saga: byerly vorrutyer,
- wynonna earp: wynonna earp
video; un: eproghuefgdzptrrw
[ Byerly Vorrutyer is sitting in front of a piano, fingers on the keys. Byerly Vorrutyer is also, apparently, drunk. There's a bottle of brandy in front of him balanced beside the music rack that's two-thirds drained, and there's a tiny sway in his posture, and he looks sloppy - suit coat opened, shirt-collar loosened. When he speaks, his voice slurs. But as he talks, he plays Chopin beautifully, expressively. He only misses the very occasional note. ]
God help me, but this place is dull. And I know from dull. I spent an entire season - an entire season! - on the Vorinnis estate on the South Continent. If Lady Vorinnis hadn't been there to distract me with all her deliciousness, I'd have actually, literally, died of boredom. I nearly set fire to the whole taiga. Roasted all the little birdies and rabbits and peasants. Pheasants. Peasants. Whichever.
[ He sighs mournfully, casting a sorrowful glance at the camera. ]
Say, fellows, how does a man have fun around here? It's clear no one knows how to play whist, so that's out, and dueling for laughs seems tacky. I've already watched a few of you brutes bash one another's faces in, which had its charms and no doubt, but the time for that is over. I can't play bed, wed, behead with you, because you're all proles of no account and no education who wouldn't know the high-society names I mention to you. Oh!
[ He sits up a bit, stopping his playing mid-note, right before the end of the first section of the piece. What a musical anticlimax. ]
I've got one. I'll write limericks about you. Tell me a bit about yourself, and I'll write limericks. Go on, do. They'll be funny, I promise - this is one of my favorite games. Absolutely kills at parties.
[ And then, with a small bow - ]
Byerly Vorrutyer, Emperor of Barrayar, at your lyrical service.
God help me, but this place is dull. And I know from dull. I spent an entire season - an entire season! - on the Vorinnis estate on the South Continent. If Lady Vorinnis hadn't been there to distract me with all her deliciousness, I'd have actually, literally, died of boredom. I nearly set fire to the whole taiga. Roasted all the little birdies and rabbits and peasants. Pheasants. Peasants. Whichever.
[ He sighs mournfully, casting a sorrowful glance at the camera. ]
Say, fellows, how does a man have fun around here? It's clear no one knows how to play whist, so that's out, and dueling for laughs seems tacky. I've already watched a few of you brutes bash one another's faces in, which had its charms and no doubt, but the time for that is over. I can't play bed, wed, behead with you, because you're all proles of no account and no education who wouldn't know the high-society names I mention to you. Oh!
[ He sits up a bit, stopping his playing mid-note, right before the end of the first section of the piece. What a musical anticlimax. ]
I've got one. I'll write limericks about you. Tell me a bit about yourself, and I'll write limericks. Go on, do. They'll be funny, I promise - this is one of my favorite games. Absolutely kills at parties.
[ And then, with a small bow - ]
Byerly Vorrutyer, Emperor of Barrayar, at your lyrical service.

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[ And so he takes a breath and starts laying into Kalinka like the space Russian he is. ]
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Wonderful. If I close my eyes it's nothing but snow and dancers in red skirts spinning like tops.
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[ Byerly smiles at the sight of him. ]
There's your pretty face. I'd missed it.
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[He's nothing if not willing to lead the horse to water so long as it drinks.]
A little touch up. I've wanted to feel more like myself so - this, and shopping. [A minor tour of the city's various quack shacks, all of which were abandoned with no real information gleaned.] One should get to know ones locale.
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And who was your hairdresser? I've been looking for a good one myself.
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[Casual as you please. He's paying most attention to unwinding his scarf and shaking it out to remove any prickles.]
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Oh, really? To work in what capacity?
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Ladies attendants I think. Dressing and grooming and all - they start them young here.
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I almost think could become more interested in the court gossip than I imagined. It's like Dynasty with a bigger lily pond.
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Court gossip is different. A different set of skills.
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[But Prior is listening. In the end he always does and - knowing less of Byerly than the other man does of him - hearing something of the world he walked in isn't anything to be brushed off.]
And you're talking about more than knowing when to curtsey and which spoon to use for the soup?
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I am, as a matter of fact. I'm talking about knowing how to please a despot.
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[ With a little wave of his hand - ]
A despot isn't evil by definition.
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If only the world hadn't ended before Queen Diana took the throne, I think your world view could be quite different.
[But.]
I'm interested in seeing the court, at least. Your natural habitat? And I can be polite, I wasn't raised in a barn, after all.
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[ He gives an easy, cheery shrug. ]
A disgraced fellow like me was never permitted into the court. But it was what I was educated for.
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