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

But you're not responding. Could it be, my love? That all this time, you've felt the same?

Silence is the language of love under chivalry. But everyone tells me I talk too much.

Ah, but what's the use of a maiden if she's not in love?

There are better things to be than useful, Byerly, though I've no doubt you're quite the tool.

Dearest Nash! I'm deeply offended. I have dedicated my life to being completely and utterly without merit. "The shame of your generation. A blight upon this family." I think I'm doing rather well so far, don't you?

To be fair, I haven't actually met your family. Your great grandfather sounds like my missus.

But in theory, a person who dedicated themselves to failure could find themselves failing at that.

[ Wait. ]

Hold on. Was your wife some sort of murderess?

She just likes to make dramatic entrances.

[ He'll explain one day, but probably not on the public network. ]

Do you want me to play your game or not?

It's tempting to say no, because I do want a declaration of love, but...please proceed.

1. The pen is mightier than the sword.
2. Actons speak louder than words.
3. Nothing is written in stone.

[ You failed to specify the lies had to be about him. ]

Obviously #3. Haven't you ever seen a statue? They always have inscriptions at the base.

That's the obvious answer. But inscriptions are inscribed, not written.

Well, I've written things in cement. I once wrote a very rude thing about my cousin Richars using a stick, right in the cement, and now it's in stone.

Now it's probably dust.

[ Another pause before the next bit is typed: ]

There's a legend, where I am from, about the 108 Stars of Destiny, names of fated heroes that appear on a tablet at turning points in history.

Ah. And so this is the thing written in stone? And yes, I imagine it is dust. If only Richars were, too.

Sounds nuts, doesn't it? But I wonder if it counts as being written if the names just appear. I'm not sure how it's supposed to work.

You believe in this legend, then?

More than I used to. Anyway, it's your turn.

Hm. If you insist. All right. I once had a month-long affair with a scandalous opera singer; Barrayar has two moons; I have a pet cat.

The last one.

Of course the last one! Eugh, animals. Who enjoys them?

They love me. It's honestly disturbing. I guess my presence just causes an effect.

You're not making these difficult to guess.

I'll have to step up my game, as they say. Your turn.

Do you want me to be difficult?

Dear maiden, you can't ever be anything but difficult.

(no subject)

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