eastbound | [handmaiden of unsheathed swords] audio posted:

You were using coal? Disturbing.

Do you know where my quarters are?

What? You know, kohl, the cosmetic, it goes around the-- Why am I discussing this with you. [ deep sigh ]

I've seen you in and out of one particular room, I assume it's that one? [ his voice is a low, sardonic drawl ] Do you feel a deep need to insult my looks some more in private? I didn't expect that to be your speciality here.

Come and find out. Or don't.

But frankly, I think you like me. I think you might even miss me when I'm gone.

[ He also deeply suspects you might be a masochist. ]

[ Masochist, sadist, sadomasochist, who's keeping track? ]

How bored exactly are you? Save the lines for your clients.

[ There's another sigh before his voice cuts off. ]

[ Arche never said anything about actually coming over, of course, but it's probably no real surprise when ten minutes later or so there's a knock on Mingyu's door. ]

I trust you aren't so crass as to invite me over in the middle of an assignation?

Is that your way of confessing to me you were hoping for a show?

[ Mingyu shoots this back with a laugh from the other side of the door. ]

Quit pretending to have manners and come in.

[ On the other side of the door, Mingyu is dressed in a single layer of very sheer robes, holding but not smoking his long cigarette. He just likes the drama. There's hot tea on the table, a little plate of cakes. There's also a modest makeup kit set out, open with its contents on display. ]

[ He pushes the door open to just stand there in the doorway for a moment, cocking his head slightly, entirely distracted from answering those barbs. That energy he'd felt as he approached -- he hadn't been entirely sure who it was until actually coming into the room; this is his first time being in Mingyu's physical presence since his powers came back, but this is not quite what he expected of the bored noble from planet Canada. ]

Interesting. You're sure you're not from Dathomir instead, hm?

[ his voice is still low and dry as he ventures inside, pushing the door closed. Unlike his host, he's significantly more dressed than the last time Mingyu saw him, wearing a set of black and deep brown robes with a few oddly futuristic metallic accents. His own clothes from home, perhaps. ]

What's interesting? And you really need to stop making references to places I've never heard of. Do you hear me quoting pop trivia at you? I explain the cheese smuggling rings before I make a reference to them like a civilized person.

[ In spite of his words, Mingyu sounds like he's rather enjoying himself. ]

Sit. [ He instructs this with a gesture of his cigarette holder. ] Eat.

And do something about your naked face. It's not really that there's anything wrong with your face, Archeval. It's just I can tell you are very aware you are naked, and your pinched expression is so much worse that it's giving me a tension headache.

How benevolent of you. [ drawling that out as he ventures over to the table ] And it's hardly my fault if you haven't heard of Dathomir. Perhaps you should read more.

[ As Mingyu gestures toward the adorable little spread of snacks, catch Archeval squinting down at it for several moments as though he's wondering which part has the poison in it. ]

At any rate, what I meant was that in the wider galaxy, Dathomiri are the only ones who both call their craft 'magic' and also feel as steeped in the Dark Side as you do.

[ catching Mingyu's gaze with a raised brow for a moment before his eyes turn toward the box of cosmetics ]

But I suppose if you're offering either way--

[ He leaves that to sit as he plucks a couple items out of the box of cosmetics, squints at the labels a little bit, and opens an eyeliner right up to make quick use of the closest mirror. Local Dark Lord does have an #aesthetic to keep up, okay. ]

It's for you to keep, [ Mingyu clarifies, making a shooing gesture at the contents of the box as though to hasten it from his sight. There's a long pause before Mingyu speaks again, sipping slowly at his tea. ]

I only said my world had magic, Archeval. I didn't say I was a practitioner. What exactly are you suggesting...? And should I take offense?

Don't play coy, magician. I am a professional. If I couldn't even sense the presence of the Dark Side, the other Sith would have eaten me alive years ago. [ glancing back over at Mingyu with a raised brow, just almost amused. He definitely looks more like himself with some black around his eyes. ]

You'd fit right in at the Sanctum. Much more homey than I expected.

'The dark side.' [ Mingyu repeats with a harsh laugh, looking down at where his sleeve covers his lotus tattoo. ] I see you Sith types are creative at naming.

I know we're not exactly friends, Archeval, but I would appreciate if you kept that information to yourself.

The Sith are deeply uncreative when it comes down to it. [ noting this, bone-dry, as he tucks away that eyeliner and flops himself casually into the seat Mingyu's prepared for him ] Our empire is called the Sith Empire, our ruling body is called the Dark Council, and the Emperor's tomb for his many enemies is called the Dark Temple. I suppose when the local nobility can generally get their way with a thought, they don't feel the need to branch out much.

[ still raising a brow, though, glancing the other man up and down with some curiosity as he reaches for the tea. ]

Your darkness troubles you? I suppose I could be persuaded to keep my mouth shut, but I can't imagine who would care. Or who I would tell.

The perception of others troubles me, [ Mingyu clarifies with a shrug, glancing away from his companion as he speaks. ] Back home, I mostly got by letting people overestimate my abilities. Mimicry camouflage of sorts. That's less feasible here, so I'm trying out the opposite.

What people think you can or cannot do is far more powerful than any actual ability, my friend. Perception is everything.

[ A thoughtful hum from the Sith. Arche pours himself a cup of tea, lifts it to investigate the scent. ]

Well, I can't disagree with that. Image can be a life-or-death matter. [ he spends half his time drawling sardonically at Mingyu, but he seems deadly serious right now. ] If you'd like to play the harmless courtesan for the moment, I won't get in your way.

[ ...then he leans over and, perhaps with a tiny helpful nudge from the Force, snatches Mingyu's cup right up to graciously replace it with the one he's just poured. It's nice and fresh, you're welcome. Taking a sip from the other's cup now: ]

Hm. Not terrible. So what does an idle orphaned nobleman sitting on mountains of credits need with hiding his dark pursuits from the world? Ordinarily I imagine someone in your position could carry on precisely as he pleases, yes?

[ Mingyu's eyebrows lift lazily at having their cups swapped, sensing a little... something about that gesture that doesn't quite seem to be just slight of hand. ]

Do you think I'm bored enough to poison you, Archeval? Please, it would be a waste of perfectly good poison.

[ And then he blows on his fresh cup to cool it enough to drink before answering the questions posed. ]

On the contrary, I'm bound and shackled by my position, the public scrutiny, my family's legacy. Political maneuvering took my family, painted a target on my back. The only thing I've done since is survive.

[ He's free enough with this information because it's more or less public record, not that Arche even knows where Canada is. ]

Spent a lot of time surviving, have you?

[ He raises the teacup in half a toast, half an explanation. ]

So have I.

[ if not Mingyu, after all, there's always the maids who brought in the food or the matron who they work for. Or someone else entirely. Any place where he's recognized is a place where he might have enemies. ]

I confess, I always thought the rich could solve most problems by killing all the people causing them and if need be, throwing sufficient money at covering it up. [ drawling sardonically again ] Perhaps that only works in the Empire.

But if you have power, you shouldn't be afraid to use it.

[ he watches Mingyu's face quietly for a moment as he sips tea. ]

I'm not.

[ But he doesn't elaborate the point, instead reaching into his pocket to pull out what looks like a modest wooden mirror. He slides it over to Archeval, then taps gently on the sigil carved into the mirror's back.

It transforms into a smartphone, screen flickering on. ]

You asked for toys, did you not? Honestly the least interesting thing I brought with me, but it's nice that my photographs and music library are intact.

[ He raises a brow. Now that's not one he's seen before. Did he get taken in by a mind trick, or does this 'magician' have some way to actually transform objects? ]

Handy. Don't mind me, then. [ picking it up ] A comm device...?

[ Most portable tech he's familiar with these days is holo-based, but this isn't completely dissimilar from old comms he remembers seeing as a kid, or something that one might find embedded in a computer bank. He gets a handle on it quickly and starts poking around, trying to figure out what uses the little comm might be turned toward for their group. Examining the signals and protocols it transmits with is the main thing, but -- Mingyu had to go and mention photos. His nosy side can't resist a little peek to see if there's anything interesting. ]

[ The most recent photos are... interesting, to be diplomatic about it. Blurry night shots, zoomed in on landmarks, shadowy figures, signs. Photos of hastily scrawled notes, piles of what appear to be trash. Nondescript buildings, cars. But once he gets far back enough, the content abruptly changes.

Dozens upon dozens of photos of one man, sometimes in a repeating friend group. Short hair, a little stocky, dark skinned, often blurry due to his inability to hold still. There are a few intimate selfies with a much happier, much younger looking Mingyu. Photos of food, too, and of cute stuffed animals and glittering lights. The occasional shopping list. Screenshots of memes. Normal stuff. A different life.

Mingyu is quite aware his gallery is being thumbed through and is quiet about it for about ten seconds before speaking up. ]

I'm unsure how photos of my lunch from two years ago are going to help us in our current situation, Archeval.

[ Arche shrugs with an unrepentantly dry glance. ]

Wouldn't you rather be sure of my nosiness right in front of you instead of having to wonder about it later? One can never collect too much intelligence. But I admit, I was mostly curious about what your homeworld might look like. Tech level aside, Canada reminds me a bit of Alderaan. The nicer parts, even. [ He's not actually here to rile Mingyu up, though, so with a thoughtful hum he backs out of the gallery to go dig into the internal settings of the phone. This would, admittedly, be easier if he could actually read what he's looking at, but so far so good-- ]

...actually, I should just--...

[ Squinting, he digs his commlink out of his pocket, setting the smartphone down to pull up some menus -- holos flash by, tracking his eyes, and finally he reaches out to give the ad-hoc frequencies scanner a poke. This model is designed for exactly the sort of work he does, running around the galaxy working with suboptimal equipment from a thousand different manufacturers, and the error correction for interfacing with unknown devices is usually pretty robust--

A window pops up on Mingyu's phone with a profile pic displaying some sort of hexagonal symbol, asking if he wants to add "͉࡭Űづॲཀྵ╵⑳" to his contacts list. ]

Hm, well, close enough. Beggars can't be choosers. Whatever that says, if you can tell it to connect, please.

[ He hands the phone back to Mingyu, craning his head to see which word in the foreign alphabet apparently corresponds to the positive result. ]

Who's the boy?

[ The request gets a startled blink out of Mingyu as there aren't exactly cell towers here. The space man apparently has a few decent tricks. He accepts it, then fiddles with the contact card to rename it to 'Archeval'.

Then he pulls up the camera and points it at his new buddy. ]

Best murderous stare, please.

[ And he snaps a pic, then finishes up with getting Archeval added in. ]

He's dead.

[ Mingyu replies this shortly, without looking up from his phone. ]

Mm.

[ A thoughtful pause from the Sith, who's expressionlessly watching Mingyu's hands. ]

Condolences, then. Something to do with all that political maneuvering?

[ Pulling up another menu on his commlink, he sets it on the table to crook a finger for the phone again. ]

Edited 2021-04-19 02:04 (UTC)

[ That question stops Mingyu cold like a slap to the face, the first time he's truly been off his mental footing in Archeval's presence thus far. He blinks, visibly stunned, as the notion sinks teeth into his throat.

It's nothing he hasn't thought before. Fox was just as wanted, just as hunted before he met Mingyu. That perhaps what changed to allow those who wanted Fox's abilities for themselves was the fact of Mingyu in Fox's life.

His legacy, his life, his very existence was a noose.

At the prompt, he slides the phone back over, teeth audibly grinding before he forces a stiff smile. ]

Isn't it always?

[ he stares the other man in the face for a moment, and can't help thinking: that smile.

Even a smile as awful as that that puts a shadow of Rynn across his face.

It's stupid. They're nothing alike, really, except for when Mingyu is being a pain in his ass. But here's this stranger with his dead boyfriend and his dark magic and his fight to survive, who dresses in white and likes to tease too much, and Archeval can't help thinking such stupid thoughts anyway.

Darth Baras's apprentice, the Emperor's Wrath, was years and multiple planets and many galactic crises ago. Arche had even met someone else in all that time, sort of, kind of, maybe.

How funny to be deposited here, halfway across the galaxy from where Rynn died, only to be confronted with something like this. You really can't escape the past. ]

I suppose I can't argue with that.

[ His gaze turns downward toward the tech, soft-spoken for once, as he examines the ports on Mingyu's phone. After some fiddling he sticks a thumb over the USB before making a few more checks, glancing between the two devices. He sends a text hail experimentally over his comm, and it pops up a slightly garbled SMS notification on Mingyu's screen. Mingyu can probably feel the sensation of a little something-or-other happening at the table once again. ]

...this does audiovisual but not holo, yes?

[ The words, coming a few minutes later, still have a sort of hush to them. When he hands the phone back at last, the battery indicator glows softly around 92%. ]

Edited 2021-04-21 00:32 (UTC)

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godmoded with permission

u always have permission babey

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