eastbound | [handmaiden of unsheathed swords] audio posted:

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)

[ Some of those photos of Mingyu had a far more familiar smile to Rynn in his less guarded moments, perhaps. Likely that Rynn was never so unburdened as that, but Archeval always had a way bringing out a brightness in him.

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.

[ shrugging, he lets a little lightning dance over his fingertips ] I like to think of myself as practical when it counts.

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.

Oh? Planning a little rampage? Some corpses to cut down?

[ 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. ]

[ Yeah he's not that complicated. Well, no, that's not true. His hobbies, however. ]

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.

You what now? [ Mingyu asks, the information coming a bit hard and fast so he has to give it a second pass to follow. ]

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?

[ he gives a shrug. And will finally reach over for some of that cake. Mingyu hasn't touched any yet, so it's a risk, but one must keep a certain balance between paranoia and etiquette. ]

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.

[ Archeval, why would he let any harm come to his brand new phone charger when he doesn't have a good backup? You're invaluable.

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?

[ giving Mingyu a dry look over his teacup ] Not all of us have insinuated ourselves into a prime intelligence-gathering apparatus around here, but people do talk and I've worked with less. As far as I'm aware the sentients will be coming in along with the rest of the merchants' wares -- [ giving a purse of his lips at that ] -- when the upcoming... bazaar, or what have you, is happening at the port. The chaos of people milling around should be helpful for some to get lost in, though of course it's a risk. Conditions on the ground could be highly variable.

[ shrugging a little again. He says nothing about the other refugees yet, calmly sipping tea ]

Are you volunteeering to help, then?

Hardly. I don't get out of bed unless I have reason to believe it'll be worth my while. This is sounding quite the opposite.

[ 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?

[ his brows raise high over the top of that teacup now. That gaze is a little colder than a moment ago. ]

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.

I'm saying it's incredibly strange to feel obligation to complete hypothetical strangers rather than people you have been living with. Surely you didn't get this far in life by making every single stranger you remotely hear of into your personal crusade?

[ 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?

[ just straight up giving Mingyu a flat stare now as he stabs his fork into a piece of cake. ]

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.

Why is this thing what you've deemed necessary and worthwhile? [ Mingyu presses the point, not because he thinks all problems should be solved before any action is taken at all. It's just a strange hill to die on, for him. A strange, waterlogged, highly risky hill with high potential to blowback on the rest of them. ]

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.

Of course they're not, that isn't the point-- For their own reasons they gave us a chance. Who is going to give those beings their chance? You're a pragmatic enough man, you know there isn't really some kind of rebellion that's going to magically materialize to rescue them all. I'm sticking my neck out for twenty-some perfect strangers already, why not a few more? I have the ability to walk in and out of there on my own safely, so why shouldn't I?

[ 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. ]

Edited 2021-04-24 00:32 (UTC)

You are convince you're helping them, but you don't have the data to back it up. You free the slaves and they maybe, maybe find some footing and live better lives. That's just one possibility. Just as likely they get hunted down like animals, or freeze, or starve. What if these are generational slaves? Have you considered if they have family, or if those families will be punished for their rebellion? Do you know if any of them have the skills that will allow them to survive once freed?

[ Mingyu takes a breath, subtly shifting in his seat in case he has to pull a talisman from his sleeve. ]

Doing good is not and will never be about how you feel, Archeval. Doing good is about the net good you provide the world. Everything else is just vanity.

Of course I don't know any of that-- [ staring furiously, leaned across the table a little ]

They'll get out, or they won't. They'll die, or they won't. They'll live a short miserable existence or they won't.

There are no guarantees and here I have no way to offer them. I don't intend to try to offer them. But I can give those beings the only thing they're not going to get otherwise.

An open door. [ one black-clad fist clenches in his lap as he sucks in a long breath, still staring Mingyu intensely in the face ]

They can walk out of there into a world of hazards at every turn, where they're like to die as not, but if they want it they can have the opportunity. They can take the risk of trying for something better. They can choose to die on their feet instead of starve on their knees.

I can't give them any better than what was given to me. But I refuse to give them anything less.

[ Mingyu's eyes narrow, lips thinning. ]

What was given to you?

[handmaiden of unsheathed swords] audio posted:

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