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Two spies on a park bench (Closed)
Who: Brock Rumlow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ukase) & Byerly Vorrutyer (vorrutyer)
What: Two perfectly normal gents meeting on a park bench to people watch, drink alcohol, and gossip.
When: The evening after this thread occurred.
Where: Park bench. In a park. Per the map.
Warning(s): Probably language. Will add as necessary
[Rumlow had been amused that they had agreed on friendship over discussion of orgies, then moved to attempting a dinner date somewhere and finally settled on drinking on a public park bench. That seemed to be his stride, and he recognized that this was one of those situations that would either allow them a better assessment of each other and keep the 'friendship', or they would likely hate one another for life. That's how most of his relationships went anyway. He was either liked and respected or he was loathed.
His opponents generally didn't survive long. He'd hate to have to go that far with his first friend of new beginnings.
He had come to the park bench earlier than the set upon time, performing some general recon on the area, the escape routes, the general population that came around here, and noting all the points where he could have his head blown off. There were many of the last point, but that was the risk with public meetings. He didn't consider himself well-known or infamous enough to earn a hit so soon.
He stepped up to the bench at ten minutes to seven and settled himself upon it, armed with a sidearm on his hip and a knife hidden on his calf. He might not be expecting trouble, but he was always prepared for it; he was from a country where openly carrying a sidearm was allowed in the law, and he saw no reason to change that here and now.
He slung an arm along the back of the bench and watched people as they did their evening walks. All chatty, all hands gesturing, all with weird manner of pets in tow. He set one ankle on his opposite knee and looked perfectly comfortable, like he belonged there. He also had a bottle of his own alcohol of choice, since friends shared. The bottle was sealed; he hadn't looked into the laws of public alcohol consumption.]
ukase) & Byerly Vorrutyer (vorrutyer) What: Two perfectly normal gents meeting on a park bench to people watch, drink alcohol, and gossip.
When: The evening after this thread occurred.
Where: Park bench. In a park. Per the map.
Warning(s): Probably language. Will add as necessary
[Rumlow had been amused that they had agreed on friendship over discussion of orgies, then moved to attempting a dinner date somewhere and finally settled on drinking on a public park bench. That seemed to be his stride, and he recognized that this was one of those situations that would either allow them a better assessment of each other and keep the 'friendship', or they would likely hate one another for life. That's how most of his relationships went anyway. He was either liked and respected or he was loathed.
His opponents generally didn't survive long. He'd hate to have to go that far with his first friend of new beginnings.
He had come to the park bench earlier than the set upon time, performing some general recon on the area, the escape routes, the general population that came around here, and noting all the points where he could have his head blown off. There were many of the last point, but that was the risk with public meetings. He didn't consider himself well-known or infamous enough to earn a hit so soon.
He stepped up to the bench at ten minutes to seven and settled himself upon it, armed with a sidearm on his hip and a knife hidden on his calf. He might not be expecting trouble, but he was always prepared for it; he was from a country where openly carrying a sidearm was allowed in the law, and he saw no reason to change that here and now.
He slung an arm along the back of the bench and watched people as they did their evening walks. All chatty, all hands gesturing, all with weird manner of pets in tow. He set one ankle on his opposite knee and looked perfectly comfortable, like he belonged there. He also had a bottle of his own alcohol of choice, since friends shared. The bottle was sealed; he hadn't looked into the laws of public alcohol consumption.]
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When you're me, you have both skill and strength. I know the value of both and when to use them.
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And modesty.
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[He really had no shame. He'd done and seen way too much for that.]
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Oh, very much so. I'm handsome as Ivan Tsarevich, clever as Reynard the Fox, and more charming than the first springtime dandelion - but you'll certainly never hear me talking about it.
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Where I'm from, dandelions are weeds. At least you know what you're about, which means I likely will enjoy your company in future.
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[Okay, a lot of his experience had come from the internal affairs of an organization that weeded out the 'weak' quickly and brutally.]
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Order in pain, after all.]
Some, yeah, but there are a vast majority that want more than their slice of pie. Oh man, did they ever!
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All right, I want to hear the most dire murder plot. Come on.
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Off the top of my head, they thought that capturing a duke wasn't enough, and they were of the opinion that the honor guard should be made to turn on each other, make it all seem like it was an inside job and no one left alive to say otherwise. They had it planned to the minute, but then higher ups vetoed it and the team just stole the duke away without anyone noticing for some hours.
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Good heavens. How dramatic. It sounds like something straight out of a holo-drama.
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You gonna regal me with a story with such high stakes too? All this give and take, after all.
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What, hoping for some revelations about how I plotted against my cousin the Count? - Well, actually, there was an instance where I did, truthfully. And ended up arrested. Dreadful thing.
[ And then he gives a rueful little smile, and a shake of his head, like he's going to stop there. ]
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[He was always curious how family turned against each other. Of course, there were some bad apples in every tree, but he likely was the bad one of his.]
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Oh, not in the least. Dear cousin Dono was a far more likable and capable candidate for the Countship than Richars, his rival. But, you know - Richars was such a dreadful bully; he'd have made my life terrible if I'd sided with Dono. Plus, he was so very generous in the buying of wine. So, yes, I was his stirrup-man when he needed me to be, including in one highly unpleasant incident. Unfortunately, Richars lost in the end, and poor little me ended up being arrested for it and questioned most uncomfortably - the only thing that saved me was turning Imperial Witness against Richars.
[ By smiles wryly. This is something rather akin to the real story. The real story, of course, is that Byerly was a double agent embedded in Richars' camp, working for Dono while pretending to be cowed by and obedient to the vile Richars. But that's a fact known only by a select few even back home - Dono and his household, the Vorrutyer armsmen, Ivan Vorpatril, Miles Vorkosigan (ugh), and By's ImpSec handlers. And the Emperor, of course. ]
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He always wondered how many details were left out of stories like that. Everyone had a reason for saying what they did, and most would put themselves in as best of light as possible.]
Sounds like, in the end, you saved the day and possibly earned your dear cousin's regard.
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[ He gives a little pout. ]
Unfortunately, not too many people agree with me on that point. Oh, you're such a coward, Byerly, they say. And an oathbreaker. I think the two things are incompatible, especially when you're talking about someone like Richars. Do you know how frightening it is to fuck over a man like that? Really, it took a lot of courage to turn on him. But no one acknowledges my nobility.
[ To Rumlow: ]
Thank you for doing so.
[ He's laying on the despicable act perhaps a little bit thick, to be fair. But he doesn't really trust Rumlow. A man who would assassinate in place of capture...? No. So he's curious what'll happen if he sets himself out as bait. Men like Rumlow - like Richars - often like tools, and there are few tools better than a pretty, clever, well-connected coward. Would Rumlow give a nibble or two...? ]
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[As far as his opinion went, he saw the value of waiting to turn on a guy when there was some measure of safety. There was a far more cunning game to play when there was opportunity to be safe and turn on a bully. Now, Rumlow, he knew he had been a bully way back in the day; he freely admitted it.
However, his stint with HYDRA had beat much of that behaviour out of him. They had not been gentle about it either, and they had directed his skills to terrorize to something more productive. So was By a coward? Maybe to some, but he didn't think so.]
However, you survived, and that's what is important. You're good to no one, especially not yourself, if you're dead.
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[ By grins in open amusement. ]
You sound positively kindly.
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Hardly. I just know that people forget the dead. They lose meaning after awhile, but being alive means you can be a continual pain in the ass for what you believe in.
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