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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.
video | un: null
Superb choice for an origin story, if I do say so myself!
Next time I'm kidnapped by extraterrestrials I'll have to remember that one.
[ He's no historian, but whenever have you heard of an aristocrat actually dedicating himself to the service of anyone lower than himself? After all - the heads of rulers are bowed for no one.
Which coincidentally tends to be why they get cut off. ]
Or maybe something that doesn't sound as heinously full of hot air.
no subject
Are you always so suspicious of others' words, dear fellow?
no subject
Why, suspicion is such an ugly word! [ He can play the genteel man with delicate sensibilities, too. Well - for the moment or two where a raised voice and astonished tone feigns some scandalized emotion. ] I myself prefer 'disbelief'.
[ It's accurate to say he doesn't believe much of what people say, unless they prove it to be true. And what an easy practice it is when everyone else tends to have reasons to lie at some point. ]
And it's so entertaining to watch someone's lies get hauled out into the daylight like so much dirty laundry.
[ He's still not buying the whole Emperor shtick. But at the same time Dazai is dying to know why anyone would choose such a garishly obviously title, when it reeks of fabrication. ]
But the gritty details behind them are always so much juicer.
no subject
[ A small smile plays about his lips. ]
Do you fancy yourself some sort of detective, perhaps?
no subject
That happens to be my profession, Your Highness.
no subject
[ His smile is rather wry. ]
So tell me, what do you do here? Work for the Royal Guard?
no subject
Oh, that's hilarious. [ He'll chuckle a little, albeit darkly. ]
And what about me suggests that I'd volunteer for guarding royalty?
[ So he has a problem with authority figures and obeying rules. Sue him. ]
Are you trying to dig up intel on me, Byerly? I'm flattered.
no subject