elnysa | video; un: eproghuefgdzptrrw

[ Byerly, a handsome fellow with a hard-to-place accent that just sounds a bit different, is lounging on a couch. The angle isn't entirely flattering, since he's filming himself while laying supine, and so there's a view sort of halfway up his nostrils that is a little bit too much information. A bottle of brandy dangles from one hand, and his voice is slurring just a bit. This fellow seems quite drunk. ]

Bonsoir, you grunting peasants and cultureless rubes, and happy Winterfair to all. For those of you who are cultureless monsters, Winterfair is a time when gifts are exchanged and joy is had. My gift to you is that I won't call any of you peasants again for the duration of this broadcast. Winterfair was also the last Emperor's birthday, or thereabouts, which meant everyone had to give him their taxes for the year, but mine's not till later, so you don't need to pay me till then. I'll let you know when taxes are due. Start saving up now.

So what should you all give me instead? I suppose to begin with you could entertain me. What do you say, my cream puffs - a little game of two truths and a lie? You know the rules, since the rules are literally the name of the game. Go on, play with me, do. I'll start. I'm currently rightful Emperor of Barrayar, my great grandfather Pierre once showed up to a Winterfair ball soaked in blood to send a message, I'm terrible in bed.

Anyone who opts out of the game, I'm going to assume they're simply too in love with me to speak with me, so don't play at your own risk.

[ He winks, and then lifts the brandy to his mouth - and it apparently goes down at a bad angle, because he sits up, coughing and spluttering and getting alcohol down his front before he shuts off the feed. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I am perfectly human.

[ at least as far as her dna is concerned. ]

And do humans usually reproduce with green space goo in your home universe?

No. [ a beat. ] I'm just special.

Yes, but - special how?

[ nope. ]

Your turn, By.

[ Huff. Ugh. Byerly rubs at his mouth, seeming just a bit less drunk now than he was before - letting the act slip just a bit in the face of his frustration and confusion over that non-answer. Ah, well. ]

All right. Fine. I own six maroon pocket-squares, I can play the piano blindfolded, and I was kicked out of school at age sixteen.

[ if she notices, she doesn't comment on it. one kindness for another, his moving on for her silence. something like that. her past isn't something she's known for a long time yet and there are some questions she doesn't know how to consider even in the confines of her own mind.

especially in the confines of her own mind. ]

I'd believe all of those. [ hm. ] The last is the lie.

The first. I own three. I have too many maroon suits to have that many maroon pocket-squares. Your turn.

So what colour pocket squares do you own the most?

[ how is this a real question she's asking someone? and how is talking about pocket squares stranger to her than green goo? ]

I'm a trained dancer, I kill people for a living and I always have at least one knife on me.

You always have more than one knife.

[ He winks at her. ]

And - white. It goes with everything.

At least one, usually more than one.

[ she shrugs.

(she doesn't actually kill people for a living.) ]

It also shows stains the quickest.

Which is why I don't allow myself to become stained.

[ Which is absurd - she's almost certainly seen him stagger out rumpled and stinking. ]

Now that's a lie and you know it.

It is not! I'm as clean as a fresh spring breeze.

You spilled alcohol all over yourself five minutes ago.

Yes, but very suavely.

Uh huh.

Aren't you going to ask if I'm all right, by the way? I could have died.

But you didn't.

I might be dying right now.

If you are, I'm too far away to help you.

Unless you're dying from a very slow poison.

What if I were? What would you do?

Depends on the poison.

[ and after a moment, more sharply: ] Are you?

You sound a little bit concerned. Is that caring in your voice...?

[ he's an asshole. ]

Do you know how hard it is to train a guy to eat me out just right?

(no subject)

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