video; un: eproghuefgdzptrrw

[vorrutyer]

[ 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. ]

Comments

[vorrutyer]

Byerly the Dissolute? The Disgrace? I'd like a bit more alliteration. Byerly the Right Bastard?

Gregor is rather becoming in his own way, though. Nearly as tall as I am, and even thinner. Nose like a battleaxe. Gregor the Lugubrious, they call him.

[flashystyle]

Oh, Byerly the Right Bastard is very fitting. And I'm sure people already refer to you that way. I'll write it down for a biography.

If Gregor ever wakes, though, I think I'll be the judge of that. I can work hard enough to change his mind... and if anyone can bed all your royalty, I think it should be me. [A beat. Then, with a laugh:] Now, I know you're terrible in bed, so it must be that your great grandfather never did such a thing. Yes?

[vorrutyer]

I'm offended, dear Dorian. Don't ever underestimate the barbarity of my most esteemed ancestors. La Sanguinaire did that and worse.

Alas, though, I don't think you'd be able to budge my dear cousin Gregor. He's surprisingly immovable for a storklike fellow like he is.

[flashystyle]

Truly? You don't think my good will and charm can melt his heart? I'm devastated. I'll have to play to lift my spirits, but I think if either of us get anything wrong on our turn, they should have to take a drink.

Let's see... I've witnessed the Archon, our Emporer, murder someone in the middle of a ball. I've rode a creature that resembles a hairless rabbit across an endless desert. And finally, cows have flown over our country's capital.

[vorrutyer]

[ By's eyebrow ticks up, a little impressed at that insanity in spite of himself. ]

Well, it must be the second, because the desert had to have an end, because you're here now.

[ Ah, pedantry. ]

[flashystyle]

Ah. I'd give you that one for my needless exaggeration, but I do believe the Storm puts an end to the endless, and thus I would still be here. Point to Dorian.

[Somewhere, amidst his Very Serious Work Notes, he starts a tally.]

They're very ugly creatures.

[vorrutyer]

Hm. [ Point to Dorian indeed, damn him. Damn his logic. ] Then...No flying cows?

[flashystyle]

Would you look at that! Another point to Dorian. [He hums, writing off another.] I expected better from you, my dear Byerly.

[vorrutyer]

I expected better from you, dear Dorian. Tell me there have been some murders, won't you?

[flashystyle]

Oh, of course there were murders. But I didn’t witness it. I was somewhere enjoying a nice red wine.

[vorrutyer]

Ahh. How disappointing indeed. What's the point of spectacle with no spectators?

you didn't see anything

[flashystyle]

Oh, I’ll anticipate the next time someone kicks the bucket, shall I? I’ll practice my surprised face. It isn’t much of a spectacle when it happens every other month, though.

[vorrutyer]

Every other month? And you've never seen it?

[flashystyle]

How many balls do you think I've attended? I have seen it once, but that was the from Black Divine. He's something like your... I don't know, actually. Religious reasons.

[vorrutyer]

We don't have a religious anyone where I'm from. But why don't you attend more balls, Dorian? They have the best wine. And free food. A fellow comes in with deep pockets, and he can walk out with enough to eat for a full week.

[flashystyle]

Why do I feel like you're speaking from experience? I thought the appeal to a grand event was the opportunity to be social and dance, and yet... I like balls, I do. I've just never attended one with guests that particularly like me.

[vorrutyer]

A charming and handsome fellow like you? Their loss.

[flashystyle]

Isn't it? If there is anything like Winterfair here, I do hope you'll give me the pleasure of your company.

[vorrutyer]

If there isn't, I'll organize something. Just so I can show you off. You'll have to promise to be on my arm all night. And be at your most beautiful.

[ By smiles at Dorian, but there's something just a little bit watchful in his eyes. Not quite anxious, but - attentive. ]

It would flatter my ego very nicely.

[flashystyle]

[Dorian laughs, but its mirth doesn't quite reach his eyes. His shoulders are tense, and he has to fight to sound as doubtful as he is.]

Not nearly as much as you flatter me, I imagine. If this dream were ever to come to pass, I don't think I could all night. The other guests would go green with envy.

[vorrutyer]

It's true. You'd be much in demand.

[flashystyle]

Ah, flattering, but no. I meant that you would be.

[vorrutyer]

Now you're the one flattering me. Don't get me wrong, I'm gorgeous. But you're utterly astonishing, dear Dorian.

[flashystyle]

I might be utterly astonishing, but you have a... certain way of leaving people wanting. It's terribly inconvenient for them, but they keep coming back.

[vorrutyer]

You could learn to be that way yourself, dear creature.