sa-hareth | arrival (mingle log)

[groundrules]

WHO: Everyone ever + the local Sa-hareth squad.
WHEN: Arc I: Sa-Hareth arrival.
WHERE: Sa-Hareth citadel, salt mine, the old jailhouse,
WHAT: Our intrepid heroes get commandeered into the frosty unknown.
WARNINGS: the glorious undead, background House of Dew mentions, at least one person's terrible sense of humour.

Comments

[bearshermark]

Eleven deflates a bit, having failed to successfully distract the man. No apparent recognition of any of those phrases means he might have to truly consider the alternative.

"Birthmark," he supplies with a faint smile, then hesitates as he searches for a base explanation for someone that wouldn't know what his title means. That in itself is something of a relief, if he's honest. "It- it represents a power I was born with. But ah, that doesn't mean anything now."

[darkeststars]

"A power?... I see. It might still again before long," Arche shrugs, and then gives a disgruntled grimace. "Hopefully, at any rate. Whatever we've been dosed with must wear off eventually--..."

The alternative doesn't bear thinking about right now, so he moves right along from that. It's an interesting idea, at any rate -- he's never heard tell of something like the Force manifesting so strongly in a person that they bore a physical mark from it, but there are many planets and many strange phenomena in the galaxy...

"So. You are marked with the symbol of... what sounds like your home culture's deity? Why do I have a feeling that this has something to do with the mission that ended in you captured in hostile territory surrounded by slavering monsters? That does always seem to be how these things go," he reflects in a bone-dry drawl.

[bearshermark]

It's a shockingly accurate guess and Eleven blinks some surprise. But the idea that their powers may return lends him some hope, even if he's sure this particular part won't. Moreover, if that is the chilling reason why he's here...

Eleven picks at one of the blackened holes in his clothing. "If that's true, then you must also have a light to be extinguished."

[darkeststars]

There's a pause, a vaguely surprised blink, and -- briefly Archeval laughs. Brow furrowed, low and a little ironic.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean. But I can think of many who would disagree with you."

There's almost no chance that Eleven has heard of the Force or the Sith, he imagines, and certainly the man can't know about the Dark Side or the Light Side or his new acquaintance's opinions on any of those subjects, but-- his heart gives a little bit of a flip anyway. In his position, those aren't words that a person ever wants to be accused of.

[bearshermark]

Eleven glances up and gives Archeval a considering tilt of his head. With his own power locked away, his sense of Light and Dark are muted- possibly gone. But he's sure that a spark of light is someone that gives people hope.

"I guess we can't know for sure." But it feels right; he's almost certain of it. In the wake of that certainty comes the dreaded feeling of being hunted once more. "We just have to survive this so we can return."

[darkeststars]

"Surviving is certainly the plan," Arche agrees, dusting his hands a bit as he rises to start tidying the space around them, gathering used bowls and cups and towels.

"I should leave you to recuperate, though. I've no idea what the rest of this lot plan to do next or anything of the sort, so I suppose I may venture out and hear what I can hear. I will find you if there is some sort of news."

[bearshermark]

Eleven nods. No matter why they're there, it's clear they should all work together.

He gathers up his set of clothes and slowly pushes himself to stand. It feels like victory when he doesn't immediately feel dizzy. Once he's bathed and slept off the remains of his exhaustion, he plans to make an effort to come to know the others.

"Don't push yourself too much," he can't help parroting with a thread of humor. "Or I'll have to look after you instead."

[darkeststars]

Archeval just gives a snort at that as he glances over his shoulder.

"Perish the thought," he drawls out in return. "Surviving is what I do best, I can assure you. Rest up, Eleven."

And, after watching the other's progress just a moment longer, he'll take his leave at last.