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

[descendency]

"Mm, it's always about a superweapon, isn't it?" Mingyu comments mildly, taking the information in stride. There's a flicker of something dark and cold in his eyes that's there and gone with the next blink, a smile overtaking his expression like an old florescent light flickering to life.

"Just the cheese smuggling, mostly. Our neighbors get the weird cults and militias, mass suicides and all. But up here it's all cheese. One-off kidnappings. Systemic racism. Whatever." Mingyu shrugs, though there's an audible grind of his teeth.

"Sounds like this is the most boring thing to happen to you in a while," he points out instead, batting lazily at Archeval's sewing like a misbehaving cat as he speaks.

[darkeststars]

Archeval finishes up fixing that hem and then, with a dubious stare down at present company, dumps the entire garment over Mingyu's head for the other man to fold and put away. It was his work originally anyhow.

"Getting dumped onto a strange primitive planet with no resources, drugged to the gills, left to fight my own way over miles through hordes of living corpses, only to find myself stranded in a local brothel sewing up dresses and unmentionables for the employees? Boring, surely not, but I suppose it does sound like any old Taungsday," he reflects with a little snort. Did the translator have a blip just now, or does it simply not know what to do with that word? Who knows.

"And what of you, magician?" He picks up another garment, grateful that the pile is at least starting to dwindle. "What will you be going back to when we make it off this rock?"

[descendency]

"Nothing," Mingyu replies, shrugging, and does not elaborate as he sits up to pull the garment off his face, though he folds it carefully enough so as not to completely spit in the face of Archeval's aid.

"And, I mean. There's no cults yet, at least? Most people find sewing pretty boring, even in a brothel. Perhaps you're just so riveted by my company you've been rendered incapable of assessing how bored you are."

[darkeststars]

Archeval rolls his eyes a little before turning his gaze down toward the mending work some more.

"Your hands just don't know what they're doing yet. It's a good way to clear the mind once you've had enough practice," he adds a little absently after a moment, as he squints at a couple different threads, picks the closest matching color, and starts in on someone's ripped dress sleeve. Honestly he never had minded the work itself too much growing up; just the... absolutely everything else. (Also, he's starting to think this establishment should invest in less elaborate bedposts.)

"But perhaps that's the same as 'boring' to you, for all I know. So is your 'nothing' some stripe of nobility back home? Planetary council? Holonet host? Courtesan yourself?" he guesses, voice bone-dry. "Since you seem so very confident in your riveting conversation." If he was going to guess where this guy came from sight unseen, based on this one interaction, the top of his list would definitely start with 'bored Alderaanian noble'.

[descendency]

Mingyu's eyebrows lift in surprise at being read as 'some stripe of nobility'. The press did like to call the Bai family's long reign a dynasty. The ruling magic families remain the closest thing to modern day aristocracy, and Mingyu certainly lived a comfortable life—at least financially—for a time.

Ah, fuck it. This guy thought Canada was a planet. It was probably fine.

"The first thing is close enough, I guess. My family is well off. Parents passed when I was a teenager, so it's just me and our buckets of money. Not particularly thrilling."

[darkeststars]

"And yet here you are, bored young nobleman, with your magic, among such a company as this."

Archeval raises his brows at the other man in turn for just a moment, pausing in his work, gaze shrewd.

"Interesting."

He says nothing more than that one loaded word for a little while, though, as his hands just return to quietly sewing.