video; un: eproghuefgdzptrrw

[vorrutyer]

[ 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.

Comments

[shashka]

Close.

[ what do you take them for, the French? ]

He was shot, along with his wife and children. It was dirty business. No one wanted to fess up to giving the orders.

[vorrutyer]

[ With a little sigh - ]

Poor fellow. It's not easy being in charge. The Emperor about two Emperors back was dismembered to death. All the Vor that he'd wronged gathered to hack off little bits of him until he expired. Gruesome, no?

[shashka]

[ another chuckle. ]

It's really a shame that the Storm hit when it did. I'll never get tired of hearing how our people managed to preserve the best traditions, even into space.

[ although... ]

Well... most of our best traditions.

[ why drink brandy when you can drink vodka. ]

[vorrutyer]

[ With a laugh - ]

And which one have I lost that you object to?

[shashka]

[ he gives a playful smirk in turn ]

I've always been more impartial to vodka, personally.

[ and whiskey, but that has more to do with the fact that he's a massive cowboy fanboy. ]

Somewhere, Ivan the Terrible is rolling over in his grave. [ a pause ] Or stasis pod, I guess.

[vorrutyer]

Well.

[ He gestures cheerily at Ocelot. ]

Bring over a bottle and we'll split it. Come on, then. Toast to Ivan's memory.

[shashka]

And here I didn't even offer you a limerick.

[ well how can he refuse a request from a fellow "countryman"? ]

But I'd be glad to.

[ of course, he's always relatively careful when he drinks. but others do have a tendency of spilling out all the secrets. ]

[vorrutyer]

Good!

[ Byerly claps in smug delight. ]

And I shall bring the pickles, the dried herring, and the black bread. Where shall we meet, good fellow?

[shashka]

Depends on what you're in the mood for. There's a few good bars sprinkled around the red light district. If you want a quieter night, I've got a whole house mostly to myself. But my housemate isn't much of a talker.

[ Ocelot returns that look with one of his own. ]

But whatever you do, don't forget the sour cream.

[vorrutyer]

I wouldn't dream of it. Now, let's say your home. A bit of privacy wouldn't be unwelcome.

[shashka]

Excellent. I'll see you in about an hour.

[ gives him a time to find a few of the finer vodka-like substances around town. not that he has any intention of getting drunk.

well. getting "Russian drunk", that is. ]