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Birds. [ Byerly asserts that with full confidence, not even winking. Then he tips his hand cheerfully towards Bastien. ]
A virtuosic performance, my dear Bastien. You really are talented. And don't blush or demur; it is true, and when you say otherwise I want to shave off your mustache in spite.
A virtuosic performance, my dear Bastien. You really are talented. And don't blush or demur; it is true, and when you say otherwise I want to shave off your mustache in spite.
Really?
[ He sets the cello aside with all the careful respect it deserves. ]
would you truly want to start down that path? It could only end one way. [ He joins Byerly on the piano bench, nudging as necessary, and dramatically plonks down a single low, dramatic chord—incorrectly first. He adjusts a finger to the correct key and plonks it again. ] Both of us shaven clean, head to toe. You, mourning your eyebrows—how will anyone know how skeptical you are being without them? And me, devastated by the loss of my chest hair. It would not be pretty.
[ He sets the cello aside with all the careful respect it deserves. ]
would you truly want to start down that path? It could only end one way. [ He joins Byerly on the piano bench, nudging as necessary, and dramatically plonks down a single low, dramatic chord—incorrectly first. He adjusts a finger to the correct key and plonks it again. ] Both of us shaven clean, head to toe. You, mourning your eyebrows—how will anyone know how skeptical you are being without them? And me, devastated by the loss of my chest hair. It would not be pretty.
[ He walks his fingers back up the keys—like little marching legs, not with anything resembling proper finger placement. Pianos are a little difficult to carry on one's back, so everything he knows about the piano he learned from periodically fooling around, much like this. The extent of his actual two-handed song-playing ability would be the Thedosian equivalent of "Mary Had A Little Lamb." ]
What, to make me agree that I have talent? Or do you long for a glimpse of my...
[ He taps the hair-obscured cleft beneath his nose. ]
What is this called?
What, to make me agree that I have talent? Or do you long for a glimpse of my...
[ He taps the hair-obscured cleft beneath his nose. ]
What is this called?
[ There are no elegant words for the laugh that earns, which is probably fitting, because it's not an elegant laugh. Let's go with guffaw. Once he's collected himself, he says—with a few halting pauses to think, not too fluently— ]
Byerly Rutyer, that rascal and cad—there’s nothing that he’d shy away from. So he strode to the Empress, compelled by a dare, and kissed her right on her facial perineum.
Byerly Rutyer, that rascal and cad—there’s nothing that he’d shy away from. So he strode to the Empress, compelled by a dare, and kissed her right on her facial perineum.
[ Bastien takes it as a demonstration and copies him, while he makes a gentle sort of scoffing sound. ]
She knows you, doesn’t she? If it is a gift, it is one she chose. She went to the market and turned you this way and that, and she said yes, I want this one.
She knows you, doesn’t she? If it is a gift, it is one she chose. She went to the market and turned you this way and that, and she said yes, I want this one.
Hah.
[ In a passable imitation of a dwarven accent: ]
No, no, madam, we told you when you made your purchase before that we don't do returns or refunds here at the Indelible Shitstain stand. So we're sorry, but - What's that? You don't want a refund? Instead, you want another one? Well, all right...
[ In a passable imitation of a dwarven accent: ]
No, no, madam, we told you when you made your purchase before that we don't do returns or refunds here at the Indelible Shitstain stand. So we're sorry, but - What's that? You don't want a refund? Instead, you want another one? Well, all right...
Please. It is not even your fifteenth best feature.
[ He hits one key with repetitive rhythm, unable/unwilling to resist the temptation to make a little noise with a noisemaker right in front of him, but also not paying enough attention to do something more complex than that. ]
She’s lucky to have you. Especially if her husband is as awful as you say.
[ He hits one key with repetitive rhythm, unable/unwilling to resist the temptation to make a little noise with a noisemaker right in front of him, but also not paying enough attention to do something more complex than that. ]
She’s lucky to have you. Especially if her husband is as awful as you say.
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