westwhere | Out onto the Tundra

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Out onto the Tundra

WHO: Lee Chang, Archeval, Lan Wangji, Eleven, and anyone else who decides they want to tag along to go hunting in the tundra.
WHEN: April 25
WHERE: House of Dew -> The Tundra
WHAT: Lee Chang needs money and probably so do you, so it's time to head out into the tundra to... well, Wangji wants to kidnap animals but they're allowed to kill ones that want to kill them.
WARNINGS: Violence against animals, stuffing Wangji's sleeves full of rabbits, awkward discussions of relationship status and general shenanigans.

It is an hour before dawn, the sky is just starting to show a little light, and Lee Chang and his bodyguard Ylsa stand outside the House of Dew in the cold. Ylsa has somehow managed to get them a dogsled for the day - though she told Lee Chang that it would cost him half his share - so their supplies are already loaded up on the sled, the dogs patiently waiting in their halters and sniffing at each other. Lee Chang has never seen a dogsled, but the idea seems sound and the dogs seem excited, their tails wagging as their breath mists before their face. At the front of the sled there is an oil lantern hanging, already lit, casting enough light for the dogs to see by and for the humans to make do once they are out on the tundra.

Lee Chang at least seems to have real clothes, now, thanks to ~~his sugar daddy's~~ Mingyu's generosity, but he's also wearing many many layers of women's silk robes underneath to give himself as much insulation from the cold as possible. They have enough food for three days - though they hope to be back by the time the sun sets, it is always wise to plan in advance. Down-filled bedrolls have been secured for a similar reason, and dogs always make good bedwarmers.

Lee Chang waits for the others, breathing out slowly. He feels a little more relaxed, now, with something to do other than simply while away his time, and he is eager to get out into the wildnerness.

Ylsa, as ever, seems put-upon and darkly amused, as if she is entertaining Lee Chang's idea simply to see what kind of trouble they are going to make for themselves. She only greets the others as they arrive with a small nod in their direction, while Lee Chang tells them:

"Once we are all here, we will depart. If you do not have weapons, Ylsa has some that you may borrow--"

"Purchase," she interjects.

"-- purchase from her, as necessary. Sling shots, and a few long spears."

Lee Chang, for his part, has a new sword at his hip, a strangely bright red ruby in the hilt catching the low lamp light as it flickers.

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That hilt is certainly familiar to at least one other person in this company, who eyes it here and there with a look of dark amusement but graciously says nothing in particular. Archeval is similarly dressed for the occasion, his usual insulated armored robes accompanied by a fur cloak over the top and a black hood over his hair. To the eyes of some he might look unarmed, with nothing but that little silver cylinder hanging from his hip, but most of the assembled group knows better by now.

Not much one for being the first to strike up a conversation, he gives the assembled members a nod of greeting and a curt good-morning as he walks up; and in fairly short order he's crossed over to say hello to the animals instead. Ever-cautious, he feels for their moods in the Force before picking one to whom he offers a gloved hand to sniff. He can't claim to have seen this particular mode of transportation before, but by Sa-Hareth standards it practically seems like high technology.

Despite weeks of necessity, Eleven still doesn't completely manage to hide his lingering tiredness and disdainful frown for the early hour and its cold while he marches into the company. He's fitted in armor with dual swords strapped to him and stifles a yawn as his eyes alight on Archeval, Lee, and the dogs.

"Sorry," he says, shivering and missing the relative warmth of his cot. "I promise I'll be more awake soon. Are we waiting for anyone else?"

Edited 2021-04-26 19:55 (UTC)

"Master Lan," Lee Chang replies, glancing over at Eleven and his dual swords. Well, at least the boy was armed. He had to trust that Eleven knew his own ability.

"Then we will head out."

The dogs seem friendly enough, but as working dogs they seem more interested in each other and the potential for getting treats (read: meat) than they are very interested in getting pettings. They do take a few curious sniffs of both Archeval and Elevel, though.

Ylsa rolls her eyes, shifting her leather bag over her back, her bow strapped to it.

"Yes, yes, Master Lan," She mutters, to no one in particular. She may be a little sore about being told that she could not kill caribou on this outing.

One blink, ether, the next: master Lan. A vision of battered silk, drenched in dawn's slush, string and thread and twigs of hay, and lone bindings of parchment clinging to his sleeve and hair. He peels them off, one by one, like a spider's web, recovering his bearings from the clutches of what some might name — a feral nest.

"Apologies," this, dripping close to the rendez-vous point, within steps of the hounds — steering away in a discreet arc, before they may trace him. Scent carries each way, and he keeps at their borrowed home a flightier animal than the dogs that court him. "Matters of cleansing."

It is a thing of toil and husbandry to burn Wei Ying's wayward, often magically-syruped possessions each morning, but he does his part.

Before him, then, their wondered party: the lone lord, the child, the sullen death hand and... a woman, glare intent on gently submerging Lan Wangji into the nethers. His brow perks at her. Flies higher. Perhaps she may lesson in Yunmeng on this, learn to sharpen her terror.

For now, only the sketch of a bow, a slow inclination of the head, the tip of his sword — still bound, but carefully presented. Armed. Ready. Very well.

"Rabbits will scatter shortly. We may go." Since, clearly, he is the man delayed.

It takes all he has in him not to roll his eyes, but taking issue with Lan Wangji's general state of being will probably just escalate into something more serious and certainly derailing of their morning. Since this isn't exactly a situation where he's prepared to draw saber on someone over an argument, and they're on a schedule besides -- Archeval simply goes with roundly ignoring the Lan for now as he straightens from introducing himself to the animals, idly brushing off black-gloved hands.

"The dark is wasting. I'm prepared if you are," he says to Lee Chang, reaching up to pull his hood forward a little. Luckily a decade of Imperial service has left him very well-equipped to conduct missions cordially with people he'd just as soon shove into a snowbank.

Eleven smiles mildly enough in spite of the breath of tension that passes through their small group in the wake of Lan Wangji's arrival. It's too early to work through what he might mean by rabbits, and also far too early for more than what's necessary.

The dark is wasting, he muses instead. Later, it will be light that is wasting.

He takes a step forward. "I'm ready. I have fire and healing magic, should we need it."

Lee Chang doesn't quite manage to hide the small, amused smile, even as he lowers his eyes to the ground to do so. He isn't entirely sure he understands Lan Wangji, at the best of time, but something about the man amuses him.

Disarms him.

Maybe it's because even in their very short acquaintance he is fairly certain that he can trust the man to believe what he says. And that, in itself, was rarer than gold.

"Well, I wouldn't dare hold up the group," He replies to Archeval, the amusement audible in his voice. He looks over at Eleven. "Let us hope we don't, but I am happy to hear you are prepared."

He shifted his gear again, then started walking. "Very well. Let's go."

He stayed quiet for most of the walk out of the city, listening to Ylsa murmur quiet things to the dogs as she led them, the rythmic scraping and shuffling of their paws on packed dirt and snow almost soothing. The dawn sun brought no warmth with it, the summer's warmth a forgotten thing even as a beam broke through the clouds to greet them.

He missed the summer sun. He missed it more than he had in any other winter. But he'd also never known a winter quite this long.

The tundra itself was sprawling, and barren - the recent blizzard shrouding the low shrubs and grasses that still clung to a brown, hibernating life. The rock still showed bare, in some places, the winter wind sweeping the snow into careful and beautiful dunes that would be scattered by the next day. He had never known a landscape quite so empty - it seemed to sprawl out forever, the grey sky dwarfing him in ways he had never known in Joseon. Even in the mountains, the forests offered cover to a moving party, a way to journey without being seen for miles away. Here, they had no such luxury. Though the horizon wasn't entirely flat, any prey they chased would still be able to see them coming from a long way away. He hummed lowly under his breath, stepping up onto one of the small rocky outcrops to try to get the best view possible. Far off in the distance he could see smudged shapes against the skyline - likely the caribou that Ylsa had spoken about.

"How likely are they to run, if they see us?"

She shrugged a little. "If you get too close, if they think you will attack, they will run. But it is not worth it, to the herd, for them all to move. Even the wolves and the bears - they will ignore them, then outrun them. But we are not killing them, yes?" She asked, sending a withering glance in Wangji's direction.

"Mm. But the wolves and bears that hunt them... They will have seen the herd, too."

The snow was a welcome sight, ironically. It gave them more cover than the rest of the tundra allowed, and after they agreed to split into pairs to approach something they'd seen duck behind the next rise, Lee Chang found himself alone with the self-proclaimed Sith. Whatever 'Sith' was meant to mean.

He was quiet for the approach, but when they finally came over the rise and found that the creature (some kind of cat? it had been too far to make out) was gone, he let out a breath.

"Best make for the sled," He murmured, looking over at Archeval. He paused, frowning, his brow furrowing a little before he started walking again. "You and Mingyu seem close."

Yeah. It wasn't the smoothest approach, but he'd gotten a sense from the man that beating around the bush wouldn't be wise.

Archeval glanced over with one brow raised, looking vaguely unimpressed -- which seemed to be his default facial expression, so perhaps it had nothing to do with Lee Chang's words -- and reaching up to adjust the hood of his cloak as the wind jostled it a little. His dark clothes didn't exactly blend with their current surroundings, but despite that it oddly hadn't seemed to be a hindrance in staying relatively camoflauged today. Perhaps it was only a coincidence they'd had decently good luck up to now, but perhaps not.

"Close?" he frowned, quick strides keeping pace with the taller man through the snow. "We've all known one another for a couple weeks at best and I came close to stabbing him with a sewing needle a couple of times. Would you call that close?"

He doesn't say anything about the time frame - after all, he'd only known Mingyu for a similar length of time. Not that he felt that it had much to do with it.

Or maybe he'd just never had friends before to tell the difference.

"Close enough to call for each other's company," he replied, his voice a little dry. "Closer than you and I."

There was a pause from the other man, Arche's brow furrowing for a moment before he gave a noncomprehending squint.

"I suppose he and I talk regularly, and he's done me a favor or two. But I fail to see what--"

Pause. Blink. His gaze jerked sharply over to Lee Chang's face again.

"Wait. Is that what all your various nonsense has been about? You think I'm fucking him."

Apparently Archeval was, indeed, not the beating-around-the-bush type.

"Language." His voice is dry, and flat, as he shoots Archeval a sideways look. He doesn't actually care, but he is not used to being spoken to that way unless he gives permission for it. And that permission usually comes in the form of joking that he will annihilate their entire family.

He doesn't pause his gait, but says decisively: "I have given you no nonsense." He may have felt some, but he's fairly sure he's at the very least been polite. "Nor do I think it does him a service to speak of him that way, or to condense such a concept so thinly. I merely seek to better understand your relationship with him."

The very unimpressed return look on Arche's face now is one Lee Chang has definitely earned all on his own.

"I cannot believe I've been kidnapped halfway across the galaxy again just to deal with more workplace drama," he sighs out mostly to himself, with an irritable glance up into the cloudy white sky.

"I'm not fucking Mingyu, we're not lovers or boyfriends or together or whatever romantic little term you prefer. If you require me to enumerate my relationship to him beyond that, I'm afraid you will find I don't answer to you."

He levels a hard, challenging glance at the other man now as the wind whips around them, his feet pausing for a moment. The born royal and the upstart ruler, just staring at one another.

"And unless you intend to duel me for dominance right this moment, I will speak of people how I please. I don't recommend it," he goes on in a low drawl. "I'm under the impression they don't have anything like the Sith where you come from."

He comes to a stop as well, tilting his head a little, but his expression has turned amused more than anything else. It's almost refreshing to have someone talk to him like this. Once worthy of beheading, but refreshing none the less.

"Do you need someone able to dictate down to you how to speak of people with respect?" He asks mildly. "Do you intend to kill me over the slight of reminding you how? I asked you a question. You provided me an answer. I don't see the need for blood drawn, do you?"

"If you think you get to tell me what to do, I expect you to earn it," Arche drawls out in return. His gaze is still cool, but the words are mild enough. "As I would anyone. Otherwise, how I might refer to Mingyu is between him and I. I see no need to censor myself for anyone's delicate sensibilities. Surely you don't find something shameful in the fact that he is fucking people to contribute to our funds, hm? You seem to hold him in such high regard."

Those last sentences are spoken with narrowed eyes in Lee Chang's direction as Arche starts walking again. Far from sounding mocking or cruel about Mingyu's position, for a moment he seems rather genuinely disapproving of Lee Chang himself.

There's a pause, before Lee Chang drops his chin a little, burrowing it into the fur around his throat, before he actually chuckles. He can't really help himself. He's not sure why it's funny except that it is.

"Ah, I hope you don't ever have to live in court," he replied, still chuckling. "for your sake, not for theirs. Watching any of them try to deal with you would be very entertaining."

He raised his head again. "If I found Mingyu's work shameful, I would have to find shame in my mother, first." He doesn't really notice that Arche seems disapproving of him, mostly because he is very used to that. "It is not a position that I envy him, but nor would I reduce his or her position merely to 'fucking', regardless of sensibilities. That is usually the least of their work."

He looked away over the tundra again, breathing out.

"How we refer to each other is never solely between us. Whether it be between you and Mingyu, you and myself, or either of us and anyone else. But perhaps I am too used to having to keep my tongue in order to keep my head."

"Son of a courtesan, were you?"

Arche says the words with a sort of idle interest, ducking around a little hill jutting out of the snow as he squints toward the sled off in the distance.

"And then, what, elevated to some royal court? Bastard son? Gods spare me dealing with any more courtiers, perish the thought," he sighs. "I have enough backstabbing in my life from our Dark Council, and at least them I can just kill when they step over the line. Keeping one's tongue is not a primary method of staying alive among Sith high command." This last he drawls out again with a dry humor to his voice, boots crunching against the frozen grass.

Lee Chang only smiles to indicate his affirmation. He doesn't see why he needs to elaborate further than that. After all, it doesn't matter here.

Or so he keeps trying to remind himself.

His expression does turn bemused as Archeval continues, but it isn't as foreign to him as it should be.

"I cannot speak for your Sith," he mused idly. "Or the powers you wield. But a poisoned cup kills just as easily as a sword in the spine. And often has nothing to do with whether one deserves it, line or no."

He sounded - and looked - far more relaxed than he had. "I think I prefer the man that will face me before he slits my throat. But no, you are right. It is blood, rather than speech, that both paints someone a target and gives them a scrap of protection. But scraps never amounted to much."

He pauses again, pulling his robes a little tighter as a wind stirred, blowing diamond dusted snow up over his cheeks and into his furs, melting against the heat of his throat.

"So, I think I see why he appreciates your company. We are all tired of poisoned cups."

"Fair enough," says Arche in that same amused drawl.

"I certainly can't disagree, and you can be entirely assured that if I'm out to kill you I'll do it right to your face. But I have nothing against anyone here--" --not strictly true, but Lan Wangji is unimportant and the merchant is still mostly only an irritating stranger-- "Save the man who thinks he can buy and sell all of us. I don't intend to get in the middle of whatever you two have going on. It's none of my business either way."

There's a moment's pause before he glances back over his shoulder with an eyebrow-raised stare.

"Though if you're going to hand him any more errands that leave him collapsing all over his quarters for me to nurse him back to health, I suppose I might make that my business."

That gets attention, and Lee Chang comes to a full stop, frowning deeply as he looked at Archeval, the drifting snow gently speckling his dark hair, bound tight.

"Errands. I handed him no errands." Nursing back to health-- He hadn't been allowed in Mingyu's rooms that entire time period, which was part of why Lee Chang had been so pissy to begin with. Let Archeval in, but not him. This, though--

"Are you saying you knew about what he was doing before he had completed the sword?" It was his best guess, but he didn't sound happy about it. "If you think I would ask him for such a thing--"

"What, are you saying he simply took it upon himself?"

Arche scowls over for a second at that, but it doesn't seem to be at Lee Chang specifically. After a moment he jerks his gaze away to start back off down the tundra with a long, quiet, seething sort of sigh.

"That absolute idiot. Never mind, then. Apparently he simply needs to learn there is a happy medium between never sticking your neck out for anyone, and sticking it out a hundred meters in one go."

Annoyed as he looks by the idea, apparently he has absolutely no trouble believing that Mingyu would carry out such foolishness without any external prompting.

"I imagine that the reason I was not told in advance was that he knew I would refuse to allow it." A little wryly, though he's still very sombre.

He lets the silence fill where Archeval does, and extends it for a moment even after the man speaks again, turning his head to gaze out over the tundra and take in the same horizon. Why look at each other when they can stare at snow?

"If he tries something of the sort again, don't assume that I know." He finally says, voice solemn. "Tell me. If I had to swear to take care of my own neck, then I will ensure he does the same whether he enjoys it or not."

"I've given him several earfuls enough that I hope he'll think better of the idea next time," Arche drawls out, "but very well. Looking out for someone well determined to throw his life away is certainly at least a two-person job."

He falls silent again after that, but it's more... companionable this time. Seems they've come to an accord of sorts, what with having a mutual goal to look toward. At least if these hunts are going to become a regular affair, there will be one person along who -- provided he doesn't get any more strange notions in his head about Archeval and Mingyu -- is at least tolerable to hang around.

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Out onto the Tundra

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WAIT WERE YOU ALL WAITING FOR ME, I AM SO SORRY, I DIDN'T REALISE

no worries happens to the best of us!

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feel free to splinter off into mini threads from here, guys!

For Archeval

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