video; un: eproghuefgdzptrrw

[vorrutyer]

[ Unlike any of Byerly’s previous posts, which consisted of him monologuing interminably, this post looks to be a dialogue. There are actually two people on screen - Byerly’s lanky, elegant, sloe-eyed self, and next to him a small odd-looking fellow with intense features and a too-large head set on a hunched spine. For all the differences between them, though, the two look like they could be brothers, or at least cousins - similar noses, similar bone structure, similar skin tone, similar hair color. Ah, the products of Barrayaran inbreeding.

You can tell who set up the camera by the framing. Byerly is centered, and sitting at an angle that best shows off his fine features. Miles Vorkosigan, the small fellow, is squished off into a corner of the frame. By is the first to speak, too. ]

Bonsoir, lovely fellows and ladies. Your bosom friend and brother Byerly here with an important announcement. Though you have known me as His Imperial Majesty Byerly II of Barrayar, now I’m just plain By, because my position has been usurped. [ A fake mournful sigh. ] Brutal civil war. Deadly. Horrible. I’ve been dealt a monstrous blow.

[ Miles, meanwhile, just kind of rolls his eyes skyward. Spare him from his cousin’s melodrama. ] If by “usurped” you mean “assumed rightful authority,” then yes. I usurped you. With little resistance, I might add. [ A pause; he straightens his small frame as best he can - not that it’s especially effective given the camera angle. ] Did you really go around calling yourself His Imperial Majesty Byerly II?

But of course. [ Byerly blinks in mock-innocence. ] Sire, don’t tell me that you don’t see the Imperial office as worthy of respect. I was simply demanding the dignity due to the camp stool.

Is it more dignified to lose it to a civil war too? [ Miles arches a brow in turn. ] I could fight you, I suppose.

Oh, please don’t do that, sire. [ By’s expression is a reasonable approximation of pained. ] I don’t want to hurt you. He’s very fragile, you see. [ The last is said conspiratorially to the audience, as though Miles couldn’t hear. And, swiftly, before he can be executed for treason - ] So I wished to introduce my dear sometime-cousin and current-overlord to the network, as a grand announcement of an enormous life change, and an announcement that I will of course be hosting a coronation party for him.

-- What?

[ There’s not even the slightest twinkle of amusement in Byerly’s face; he looks perfectly solemn as he explains - ]

It is, of course, customary for those invited to a coronation to bring gifts of tribute. I would not presume to speak for my lord Emperor, but I might suggest gifts of alcohol. Or something a little harder than alcohol? A fellow does grow tired of only being drunk, and the Emperor is quite a fan of stimulants, which is why you’ll hear him babble endlessly, all the time. Would that suit you, sire?

[ Miles has been working his mouth like a frog in the background this whole time; he still sputters a moment, staring at Byerly in disbelief. ] I never agreed to a party, By -- [ He interrupts himself with a beautiful stream of cursing in Greek. ] For god’s sake, that won’t be necessary.

[ Loudly, speaking over his Emperor - ] That sounds like a yes to me! I’ll see you all tomorrow night. [ And with a wink, he cuts the feed. ]


[ ooc: blue is Byerly, red is Miles ]

Comments

[dendarii]

Barrayarans are a practical people. And I no despot.

[wallofbriggs]

I can't say whether or not Barrayarans are, but you appear so.

Congratulations again, this time for not being stupid.

[dendarii]

Thank you. I think.

... With whom am I speaking?

[wallofbriggs]

Oliver Armstrong.

If you want to get into former titles, Major General of the Amestrian Army.

I could technically also claim to be the Amestrian Fuhrer, Xingese Empress, Queen of Xerxes [who cares if it's been gone for over 400 years],... [and whatever the titles of the rulers of the rest of the FMA world go by].

I won't however.

[dendarii]

[ He gets what she's saying, but he's annoyed anyway. ]

You act as though I'm claiming my homeworld's throne just out of being the closest by proxy.

[wallofbriggs]

Not at all.

Xerxes was destroyed 400 years ago, I'm not Xingenese, and I would have preferred to be properly given the Fuhrership.

If the title is yours by whatever manner your people would have, or will accept, then by means, enjoy it.

[dendarii]

You misunderstand me again. This is not a privilege, although Byerly is making it out as such. This is a sworn duty to my people, and I'd much rather not have it.

[wallofbriggs]

[Not an idea she can easily understand - hell she'd been fighting to become the next in line to be Fuhrer since before Mustang came along. But she can understand that there are those not cut out for leadership. ]

Because it's too daunting a task or because you don't think you're capable?

[dendarii]

Because it is a massive burden not to be undertaken lightly. And I am not capable yet, but I must learn to be. I've sworn an oath.

[wallofbriggs]

[Miles, you're going to hate this but...]

The fact that you understand that, and your weaknesses, makes it sound like you're the best man for the job.

[dendarii]

[ Well. He'll take the compliment, he supposes. ]

Of course.

[wallofbriggs]

May your reign be short and end well for all involved. If you're lucky, no one will wake up looking to place a target on your back.

[dendarii]

On Barrayar, such a thing is inevitable. [ A pause. ] But perhaps my father or Gregor will awaken first.

[ Although Miles' father will turn around and hand the stool right back to Miles. Gregor is his only real hope of relief. ]

[wallofbriggs]

I'd suggest saving up for a couple of bodyguards.

[dendarii]

Mm, I would agree with that. Sworn armsmen are traditional, but ...

[ He understand no one will want to serve him for free here. ]

[wallofbriggs]

You only have one person from home awake at the moment and his talents lie elsewhere?

[That's actually not a crack on By. Then again, no matter how she may act with him, she doesn't for a moment believe he's half as ridiculous as he acts. No one is that stupid.]

There are plenty of refugees looking for work or additional work. Some with experience in the field as well.

[dendarii]

Just so. Byerly is loyal, but no warrior.

[ By has other talents, after all. Which he will not ruin by explaining here. ]

What, do you recommend I just put out a want ad?

[wallofbriggs]

Yes.

That's what this communication system is for - reaching out to others of us. Others have used it for such things or other more trivial pursuits.

[dendarii]

I ... see.

[ He doesn't much like the idea. ]

[wallofbriggs]

[He's proving smarter and smarter. ]

I'll give you a better suggestion if that's not your style. Talk to a man named Reinhardt Wilhelm. You'll never find a more honest person. I'd trust him with my life and I'm sure you can find others who will say the same.

[dendarii]

Wilhelm, is it. I will try him then.

[ And then come to his own conclusions, of course. ]

private

[wallofbriggs]

[She's going to add something else in here she doesn't want anyone else in on. Of course, if Miles happens to share it with Byerly, well there's nothing she can do about that.]

If you do, let me know if you need assistance paying him. It has nothing to do with you or your safety - sorry. He could use the money, but I'm not about to insult his pride by offering to give it to him.

[Stupid heroes and their causes. Also, giving it straight to him would ruin her reputation.]

private until noted otherwise

[dendarii]

[ There's... a bit of a pause between her response and Miles' as he tries to suss out her meaning. ]

You want to give him money through me?

[wallofbriggs]

If you decide he fits your requirements. I will pay part of his wages.

[dendarii]

All right. If he suits, perhaps. ... Do you know his username?