Archeval, Darth Imperius (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
darkeststars) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
eastbound2021-04-13 11:07 am
darkeststars) wrote in eastbound2021-04-13 11:07 am
[handmaiden of unsheathed swords] audio posted:
[ There's a businesslike voice on the network that only some of you will recognize -- clearly filtered through the translator, and fortunately not interrupted by too many moans. ]
So I imagine I probably know the answer to this, but hope springs eternal: Did anyone else come here with technology?
Not all of my things are useful at the moment, but they do appear to be working. We should continue to keep proper tabs on our collective supplies.
So I imagine I probably know the answer to this, but hope springs eternal: Did anyone else come here with technology?
Not all of my things are useful at the moment, but they do appear to be working. We should continue to keep proper tabs on our collective supplies.
godmoded with permission
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?
u always have permission babey
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. ]
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[ 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. ]
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[ 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.
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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. ]
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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.
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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?
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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. ]
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[ 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. ]
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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?
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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%. ]
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There is no such glimmer of light in Mingyu now, but seeing his phone near fully charged does spark some grim amusement. ]
I suppose if sewing work is beneath you, I should not be surprised that being a walking power bank isn't either. That's quite useful. [ Mingyu pauses, his smile softening around the edges, just a hair. ]
Thank you. Let me know if you run short on makeup, or something.
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But yes, I suppose I will at that. And you know how to raise me if you need another charge. [ he drawls this out dryly, picking up his little commlink off the table to wave it a bit ] I suggest the audiovisual rather than trying to wrestle with the stones for text on these things. My commlink's signal range is excellent, but I'm not picking up off-planet signals from here so I wasn't able to download anything to translate your languages myself.
[ sigh ] And I wouldn't say sewing is my favorite, but I find myself short on other useful skills that are safe to be bandied about here. Though perhaps I'll have the chance to stretch my legs a little soon.
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[ Mingyu asks this mildly with an idle curiosity, the way a parent might ask a child about a hobby they're not particularly interested in but wish to be polite about. He suspects it to be some stripe of not strictly necessary violence, considering the source. ]
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Haltham tells me our gracious hosts, all unsurprisingly, are busy trying to kick the annoying foreigners out of their home and have no thought to spare for the slave ships coming into port here soon. [ sitting back to sip his stolen tea some more, arching his brows with a deep frown ] Not ideal conditions to run an op, but the least I can do is make it everyone's problem.
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Referring to our lot as 'annoying foreigners' is a laughable understatement to start with, but what is this about slave ships now? Just what kind of trouble are you planning?
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I don't know anything about what the conditions will be going in yet. But there are sentients arriving for sale. Heading in, breaking the bonds on any who want out, and seeing them safely into the city should be doable enough at the very least.
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Mingyu continues to simply absorb information, sorting through it in his mind, running a quick threat assessment as he's grown long used to doing. ]
How soon are these ships arriving? Do you have means of gathering more information, or are you bored enough that barging in with half baked plans sounds like a good time? Have you thought about how that may impact the rest of the refugees here?
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[ shrugging a little again. He says nothing about the other refugees yet, calmly sipping tea ]
Are you volunteeering to help, then?
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[ Mingyu sighs, not caring if he sounds unsympathetic towards human trafficking. Archeval has already peeked behind the curtain and agreed to keep his secrets, so he's not concerned about optics in this moment. ]
What do you know of the political situation here? Of the laws around slavery? Of existing rebellions? Escape rates? Recapture rates? What is done to slaves who are reacquired?
I'm sure you haven't failed to notice the tenuous situation we ourselves are in.
You're going to risk all of us, for what? There are children among our number. There are even some decent people. But you, what, identify a problem you can project your personal issues wildly onto and decide you have to do something about it?
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And you think there will be no children or decent people coming in?
The rest is semantics. Laws and statistics are immaterial. For sentients who want out, there will be three outcomes: They'll get away to whatever fate they can claim. They'll suffer. Or they'll die. If any would rather stay and grovel at their masters' feet than risk the uncertainty, that's no business of mine. Better to at least provide the out that I can than pretend I see nothing. [ pursing his lips ]
If the other refugees might worry about drawing attention, I suppose they could always all hole up quietly in here, sic the warlord's dogs on me and leave me to my fate. Counterintuitive for the locals, but as long as the rest of you get away, no harm done, I suppose? [ giving a sardonic snort ] Maybe we would all finally find out whether it's possible for me to die.
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[ The sheer short-sighted, apparent hypocrisy of it makes Mingyu sit up, staring Archeval down in his disbelief. ]
Will you be enlisting the others to feed the hungry and house the poor of Sa-Hareth next, or is your charity limited to dangerous sea excursions certain to attract the attention and wrath of people with money and therefor power?
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So I should take up every single problem in the city personally or else there's no point doing one worthwhile thing? Don't be ridiculous. Those beings don't have their very own mysterious cabal of locals with a vested interest in kicking them out of the city for personal benefit. Rather the opposite, if anything.
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You vastly overestimate the stability of our position here, if you think the interest that freed us from the prisons means anything but its own kind of threat.
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[ his voice is a deep growl now; he sets the fork back down to shove his plate away from himself before he gets the urge to stab anything else. ]
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