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WHO: Byerly Vorrutyer
WHERE: House #33
WHEN: Forward-dated to 11/22
OPEN TO: Ivan Vorpatril
WARNINGS: Nothing as of yet
STATUS: Closed--ongoing

Byerly has been adapting ever so slowly to life as a villager, a prole, a commoner--though he had no practical skills to boast of. Thank goodness for Margaery's crash course in a few simple plants that were easily found, picked and edible, as well as a warning against any possible lookalikes. If you had asked Byerly about plants before this week, he would have said that most of them had leaves and were green. Even more difficult was that most of these species didn't even exist on Barrayar, so he hadn't ever heard of them even in passing.

The chill in the air this morning when he went outside was what prompted him to remain outside longer, gathering more plants than the past couple of days. He knew what snow felt like and he was almost certain today there would be some. So he went to the Inn with his gatherings for the day, saved some for himself, dropped the rest off, picked up some meat that would last at least a couple of days, and helped himself to some of the firewood--he had a feeling he would need it.

He's currently making a sad attempt at starting a fire in his fireplace, east-facing window curtains open to allow as much sunlight as possible to leak through in an attempt to heat his place up in the meantime--the radiators in the place were not nearly enough.

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"I always knew you were the sort to enjoy a fire at someone else's expense," mutters Ivan, before he holds his hand out for whatever tools By was using in his attempt, even if it was just another twig. "Especially if you could hand someone the flint." He's not sure why he's offering to help the other man get one started, but better someone who knows what they're doing than a domestic sending his entire house up in flames.

As for what he was doing here, well. "Figured I'd better come and head you off for another week."

"They lay down the gasoline, I simply hand them the match," he continues on with the metaphor, smirking maliciously at the thought. Oh but he did get a kick out of his job for all of his other complicated feelings about it. He hardly had to do much most of the time, just lay low and be in the right place at the right time to hear people say the wrong thing. Truth be told, he was starting to enjoy the assignments where he had to take a more active role.

Byerly is surprised when Ivan holds out his hand and drops the bit of flint into it. Also, a warm fire would benefit anyone who chances to come into his house, like, say, a certain Vor friend. He gracefully plunks himself down on the couch near the fireplace, crossing his legs as he watches Ivan do his thing.

"'Head me off'? Well, you're doing a fine job of it, coming into my house uninvited," he drawls out, not that he's unhappy to see Ivan by any stretch. "Do you like the house colors? It was just sitting that way when I was looking around."

"Because that's so much better, Vorrutyer," Ivan mutters, kneeling in front of the fire and occupying himself with getting a spark. "It's a wonder you don't get invited to the respectable parties with an attitude like that." They never quite made it into the same social circles before because of it; enough to know the other by name and face and reputation, little beyond that.

At that, however, Ivan snorts. This way he controls how often he sees Byerly rather than have the other man show up in his room unannounced and unwanted. But Ivan's not going to tell the other man that, because knowing it will just make him do it to spite Ivan. "Trust you to find the one building in Vorrutyer colors. Although I'll give you that it's better than that damned castle your cousin is now in charge of, thankfully." Although Vorrutyer House might be a fair bit warmer with all that stone. That or a lot colder.

"Please, Byerly," he insists. "If we're to be stuck in this bizarre little community that we can't seem to escape, I insist on first names at least. Also, the 'respectable' parties usually aren't the ones that require investigation by ImpSec. At least, not at the moment. No one is immune from corruption--I'm sure we'll cross paths again sometime soon if we can get back to Barrayar in a timely manner."

He merely sits back on the sofa, smirk growing, and enjoys the view of Ivan hunched over his fireplace attempting to start the fire.

"Well if I can't get a proper wardrobe with my colors, I thought to go for the next best thing."

"The respectable parties, By," Ivan corrects, not looking over his shoulder as he bends over further, "normally now have Simon Illyan in attendance." With his mother. He tries not to think about it too much. Both the fact his mother is seeing Simon Illyan and the fact that the former Chief of ImpSec is attending parties. Parties Ivan attends. As for running into Byerly Vorrutyer more, well. "There's always Dono and Olivia's wedding coming up." And the rest of the Koudelkas, actually, now that Gregor's gone and gotten hitched and Duv doesn't need to redirect his energy towards making sure Komarr doesn't explode.

At that, however, Ivan pauses to tug on the hem of his own scrub top. "They managed to get one right for me. Shame about the lack of gold, however." Still, wearing this was by far the most insulting thing beyond waking up under water. It takes Ivan a little bit longer before he successfully starts a fire and leans back to survey his success with a grin.

"Ah yes, that's right. He attends them much more frequently now than in the past and for leisurely purposes instead of work." He pauses as though to think. "I had heard though that he's been seen in attendance with your lady mother--on more than one occasion I might add." Of course, he rarely directly interacted with Lady Alys unless absolutely necessary for his assignments. No, he's got his gossip circles firmly intact back on Barrayar.

"That will be something people will be talking about for a long time. Dono has shared some of the plans with me already."

When Ivan gets the fire started, Byerly gets up from his place on the couch to sit next to Ivan on the floor to absorb some of the heat.

"I don't even think having your house colors proper would save that horrible outfit."

At the mention of Simon and his mother, Ivan scowls and jabs at the fire with a stick. "Yeah, guess they weren't satisfied to keep it under Miles's roof, that little rat. He knew, you know, and didn't say a damned thing." God, he absolutely does not want to think about it, not here and not back on Barrayar. His mother might be Byerly's blind drop, but he's not certain how much of a relationship they have outside of it.

Not that he really wants to know, so please, do not let Byerly think he needs to tell him. Dono's wedding, however. "At least he hasn't dragged me into it. I've had enough wedding planning to last me for the rest of my natural life." He'll elope, if he ever does get married. Which really isn't on his radar at all, so Ivan thinks he's safe.

Anyway, Ivan gives Byerly a look and sighs. "Well it's not like we've got anything better to wear, is it?" It's the scrubs or.. whatever the hell else was in his pack. He's not putting that on unless it gets colder.

"Surely you're not that oblivious. He probably assumed you knew already," he replied, for once in his life on Miles' side. His exasperation is intoned here. It's not as though Lady Alys and Simon pranced around together rubbing it in everyone's faces, but they were seen enough in public together that it was by no means a stretch to put two and two together. Or well, perhaps it was for Ivan.

"You realize he will expect you there. I may even ask you to come as my plus one," he teases, feline smirk cutting across his features.

"They started their... thing in Vorkosigan House, By. I suspect he'd have rather watched my reaction than tell me himself." It's a trait Miles isn't alone in, thinks Ivan, with a pointed glance at Byerly. "He got it in short order." The months since have been full of Ivan attempting to not think about it, with limited success. Not that he was concerned for his mother -- she was more than capable of handling her own affairs. And neither did he have a memory of his father that he was afraid Simon would encroach on, or the worry that he would replace Ivan in her affections. Mostly because that had been replaced with exasperation long ago and he's glad of the redirection of her efforts away from him. It's just... odd, it being Simon Illyan.

As for the matter of Dono's wedding, well. "I'm sure it's against some matter of etiquette to invite then groom's ex-lover if you're a member of his party. M'mother would know, feel free to ask her." Not that there's an unattached Koudelka sister he could use as an in if he's going to be expected.

"This is true. Your cousin is a true bastard isn't he?" he says flippantly, sounding mildly impressed but mostly disinterested.

"Perhaps I will--'Lady Alys, I was planning on asking your son to be my plus one to a very public and controversial wedding of a Count. What say the annals of history on that?'" He desperately wants to laugh but the mere thought of confronting Alys at all, let alone with something like that was...well, it wouldn't go over well, that's all he knows.

"Besides, I'm sure Dono would be perfectly find with it. It's been a while since you've slept with him, I'm sure you're over it. You haven't slept together since he was Lady Donna, after all." Something that astounded Byerly greatly--he'd thought they had had decent chemistry after all. Merely sex organs are enough to change that? It was deeply discouraging to him, despite his amusement at Ivan's reaction to Dono's transition. He'd known Ivan was the Typical Barrayaran Male through and through so it shouldn't have been as much of a surprise as it was.

The fire is really starting to get going, so Byerly peels off his pea coat to reveal his black scrub top, hands extended out to capture more of the warmth.

Ivan knows exactly how well that would go down with his mother, which is precisely the reason he told Byerly to ask her. If Dono wanted him at his wedding, he could damn well invite him himself. Not let him tag along through By, thank you very much. Still, the way By phrases it makes him wince a little at the imagined response. Not pleasant in the slightest. Time to move on, then.

"I've no doubt your cousin would be fine with it. It's the sort of thing he's always liked doing." Flaunting social convention, making people stare. He hadn't minded it when Dono was Donna, but now he's just reminded of Vorrutyers in general. What was it with the entire damn family? They've always been that way as far as Ivan could tell, producing the most Empresses in Barrayaran history in spite of everything that could be considered a detractor. "I had a plan for when Lady Donna came back from Beta," Ivan sighs, wistful. A plan that had all gone to smoke when Dono had arrived instead.

It must be their damn eyes, he thinks, falling back on previous thoughts. Ivan's own track By's movement, and for a moment he's confused by the muscles he sees in the other man's arms -- they're nothing like his, of course, but the fact they exist at all takes him aback. The surprise probably shows on his face for Ivan makes no effort to hide his stare.

"Yes and that plan probably involved organs that were floating in space near Beta at that time, I'm sure." Although Byerly was a bit put out by Donna sleeping with Ivan, he got a grim satisfaction when Ivan's hopes were shattered the day Dono met them when he first came back to Barrayar. It was petty and he knew it, but having his own chipped away at on a near daily basis made him believe he deserved to be a bit petty. Well, pettier than usual.

His hands are starting to warm up and he flexes his fingers, withdrawing slightly before noticing Ivan is staring at him. He lifts an eyebrow in question.

"You've seen me in this wreck of an outfit previously. I trust you haven't lost your memory of that, though I'm not sure I would be surprised in this place."

Ivan sighs wistfully, oblivious to any of Byerly's pettiness. "Quite. I can't believe he just got rid of it all. He could have donated some to some prole woman who was lacking significant cleavage, you know. At least it could have gone to some use." The comment about Ivan's staring draws his attention away for a moment, and he clears his throat -- refocusing on the fire.

"I was trying to stave off freezing to death," he murmurs, with a roll of a shoulder. "I just didn't take you for the type to work out."

Byerly is not sure he can roll his eyes any harder. He appreciates a nice busty woman as much as the next man but he personally is not so sure about that style of augmentation.

"I think despite your moaning about it, you liked Donna for more than those. A shame you decided to give up on all that because Donna suddenly didn't have the same organs as before." No one would ever deny they made a pretty couple of course, least of all, Byerly.

He looks at Ivan with a slight tilt of the head at that response.

"I don't do it for the appearance, I assure you," he replies dryly. "It's a delicate balance between functionality should things go awry on a mission, and not ruining the cut of half my wardrobe."

Ivan's brow furrows more, and he scowls at the fire. "Because I absolutely want to be in a relationship with someone I don't have an interest in sleeping with, Byerly." He does not. He doesn't even want to be in relationships where sex isn't a major part of it. He's a simple man, alright?

As for the explanation, well. "Can't have people wondering why you suddenly need a larger waist and more arm room?" He asks, rolling his eyes. "Your tailor must pat themselves on the back weekly at the job they do do." Ivan Vorpatril: possibly the only man who realizes the effort it takes to cut a suit badly, or for disguising something. It's a 'son of Alys Vorpatril' thing.

"It really isn't all that different, you know," he replies with some dry amusement. He is most certainly an expert on the subject, as half of Barrayar knows.

"I only choose the best. There's a bit of wiggle room but not much. It requires incredible discipline." He's being a bit sarcastic here but it's also kinda true. It's a wonder he's not more sickly looking considering how often he indulges in consumables and alcohol and skips meals because of it.

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