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

[vorrutyer]

The Royal Marines? Heavens. That sounds grandiose. Does that mean you were a soldier?

[tailorable]

Yeah. It's only royal 'cause the monarchy was still about.

[ Y'know, before the end of the world. ]

Don't mean anything special.

[ He shrugs. ]

[vorrutyer]

Still means you're all...pro-establishment, I'd say. Say, would you like to join my royal guard?

[tailorable]

[ wryly. ]

Guarding you sounds like a full-time job, bruv.

[vorrutyer]

Oh, not at all! I'm far cannier and scrappier than you might give me credit for. Come, it's a fantastically lofty position. Head of ImpSec. Wouldn't you like that?

[tailorable]

[ arching his brows. ]

Do I look like the lofty type to you?

[vorrutyer]

You seem like the aspirational type.

[tailorable]

[ Aspirational. Huh. ]

And I'd be aspiring to...the pleasure of your company?

[vorrutyer]

To a high government position. My personal spymaster. Come, isn't that exciting?

[tailorable]

Thrilling. [ nearly cracking up. ]

Aren't you supposed to buy me dinner before you headhunt me?

[vorrutyer]

How shameless. I've already bought you a drink. That's more than most people get out of me.

[tailorable]

Two drinks, if I remember correctly.

[ The most shameless, although he's dead chuffed to hear most people don't get as much as he did. ]

Which means I must've properly charmed you.

[vorrutyer]

Look at how pleased with yourself you look.

[ Byerly grins at him. ]

That must mean I charmed you.

[tailorable]

But that came after the drinks.

[ so he was charming first!! ]

[vorrutyer]

So you admit to being charmed.

[tailorable]

You want it on record, huh? [ he leans back, feigning thoughtfulness. ] Yeah, alright, I was charmed.