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WHO: Archeval and Five
WHEN: A bit after the start of the blood rains
WHERE: The caravan's encampment
WHAT: Even Five occasionally has to make time to be domestic; it's not like these bloodstains are going to get themselves out. Arche just happens to have a talent for taking care of clothes.
WARNINGS: Descriptions of blood, probably two assholes being assholes

Archeval has heard it said that humans, as a species, find it easy to fall into routine, and annoyingly he finds that he's no exception. It hasn't taken long to adjust to the rhythm of the caravan, packing up in the mornings for their perilous ghost-escorted journey and then settling down each night; by this point, even the awful red rains drenching the entire company every evening are starting to feel predictable. This has hardly been what one would call a safe journey, but in some ways he's at least felt better able to step back and focus on his own affairs than he did back amongst the tense, nerve-wracking chaos of Sa-Hareth. (And it's probably really saying something that the dangerous trip across crumbling mountain cliffs, escorted by a ghost army, hounded by hunting avian creatures, and washed by blood rains on the nightly still feels less terrible somehow than Sa-Hareth did, but -- as far as Darth Imperius is concerned his life already passed the absurdity event horizon a number of years ago and since then he does his best to simply take these things as they come.)

Right now, as the sun sinks in the sky and the caravan unpacks its things to endure another night in this cursed pass, Arche is headed for the thin mountain stream they've made camp by to wash himself a little as best he can before the whole thing runs red tonight. Given how the rains have followed them, persistent and terrible, for night after night lately, it's no surprise to see others doing the same -- some of Mazyar's people seem to be hauling off fresh water while they still can, a few others linger around further downstream from here, and... off to one side, hm, there's Five. Five, who seems to be... squinting at his own dripping jacket, right in the middle of washing it perhaps?

It's still a little odd to see him just hanging around visibly among the group, given how standoffish Arche has found the young man to be, and even odder still to encounter him in the middle of something as normal as doing chores. Are those bloodstains on that jacket...?

Arche drifts over behind the young man to squint at his handiwork entirely uninvited.

"Is all that from the rains?" he grimaces, dearly hoping to hear that isn't so. Far better Five's been off murdering someone bloody instead; the rest of the macabre downpour dropping onto their heads every night has largely been vanishing the following morning, and Archeval very much hopes that trend isn't about to change. He only has so many pairs of clean clothes.

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Maybe Five had been too distracted by his sister appearing out of the blue, and subsequently deciding to test her charms on harpies, that he completely missed the warning about blood rain. It wouldn't surprise him if they purposely failed to mention it, because he doesn't believe for a second that it's never happened before. Some people might see it as a bad sign, but there's really no turning back. The experience is miserable and hits too close to home. He buries his feelings next to the rest of the unresolved agony he's become so familiar with, to deal with another time. Like it will ever be convenient.

Even after it stops and the blood disappears from the roads, Five still feels dirty. Like the blood seeped into his skin, covering him in sticky red gore that he can never wash off, and he soon realizes that he hasn't felt clean in weeks. Possibly months, back when he was able to easily swap out his bloodstained shirt for a fresh one (despite the 'cleansing' that was forced on him in the time since), and the more he thinks about it the more intolerable it is.

Sometime later, after they've set up camp and he's located a blissfully untainted stream, he immediately starts to go about washing his blazer before the rain starts again. Unfortunately, his frantic scrubbing only succeeds in pushing the stains further in. He frowns as he notices several small tears along the back seams. Considering this particular garment has seen battle, it's a wonder it's not entirely in tatters by now. Most people would have already swapped it for something else, but it's possible he's become nostalgic in his old age. Or there's part of him that thinks keeping it will help the rest of his family recognize him once he finds them. Silly notions that keep him working on it as the sun continues to set and everyone else is settling in for the night.

He manages to not be visibly startled when Archeval's voice cuts through his thoughts, and he stops what he's doing to look up over his shoulder. Not who he would have expected to come over willingly. Either he's seeking out company or he was waiting until he could catch him alone. Five can't imagine what he could want, but he still prefers the latter. Even if he is curious what happened during the siege, he dreads bringing it up and revealing how he spent it.

"Feel free to use your imagination." He recovers easily enough, and his mouth twists into an uninviting smile, giving him a chance to rethink his decision to come bother him. "I've got it under control."

Edited 2021-07-11 06:07 (UTC)

"'Under control'? Please. Have you never cleaned a bloodstain before?" Arche scoffs. He has no way of knowing exactly how wrong he is, of course, but as Mingyu among others can attest, he's never been one to shy away from sticking his nose into things if there's a task being done poorly that he's sure he can do better. Perhaps one could charitably call it an outsize sense of responsibility, though Five's probably not feeling all that charitable right now.

At any rate, considering Five's well-honed reflexes, it's probably only the sheer audacity of the action that allows Archeval to reach over and pluck the wet blazer out of the other's hands to hold it up to the light with a disapproving scowl.

"Just look at this, you're going to pop half the stitching at this rate. Can't believe I've been dragged past the very bounds of the galaxy across time and space just so I can keep playing tailor for this lot. When you don't have proper cleaners, for bloodstains you want to work with the current of the water--"

It's something Five's tired mind probably could've recalled if he didn't have so much else weighing on him right now, but too late, Arche's already here to be an ass about it. He rolls up his sleeves and impatiently flings a little silt aside with the Force from the bottom of the stream to try to make a spot where the clothes won't drag against dirt, then goes about catching the blazer against some larger rocks so that the flowing water can sort of carry it along, current passing over the worst of the stains -- and all right, yes, maybe he's still cheating just a little as he frowns down at the clothes before pulling out some of the slightly finer soap he was going to use to wash his face with. He's never been great at making fine manipulations through the Force, but holding one piece of clothing in place is thankfully not too fiddly a task.

"Let me try this instead. Worth at least attempting something else before you rip the whole jacket to shreds." He frowns over at Five along with those words, glancing the other up and down a little. Somehow he doesn't look great, and Arche's not sure what he's picking up on in the Force exactly, but there's something not-quite-right on the air between them as well. It's certainly unlike the perpetually confident, guarded air the boy usually presents to seem this out of sorts.

Or there's the other option, and Arche came over specifically to infuriate him for the fun of it. Five is still glaring at his unintentionally offensive question about his experience with bloodstains when he snatches the blazer right from his grasp. Like he can just do that. Another day and Five might have reacted more violently to someone overstepping their bounds, but he's been off with everything lately, and it slows his reaction time just enough to open himself up for ridicule.

Arche's critiques aren't met with any less hostility, and Five squints as it gradually occurs to him that he might actually be serious. The deal they made doesn't cover tailoring, but it's hard to consider his motives when he's so focused on what he's doing to one of the only items he was able to hold onto from home. One that he was doing a shit job of cleaning, he can now tell, and his lack of objection is apparently enough permission for someone to take over and immediately toss it back into the stream.

His entire body tenses and he flexes his jaw as he watches the water rushing over the garment. It shouldn't matter so much. It's just a piece of clothing that needs to be cleaned and mended. Practically speaking, the warming enchantment on it makes it slightly more valuable to him, but it would be a mistake to reveal that it's of any other importance.

Then he has the nerve to say 'let me'..., like he asked in the first place. It's an effort to peel his eyes away to meet Arche, but when he catches the way he's looking at him he keeps them there. The edges of his mouth twitch and he lifts his chin. Like he hadn't made his discomfort obvious and he's just fine with allowing this to happen.

"To what do I owe the favor?"

"It's not a favor, it's a public service," snorts Archeval; he only barely acknowledges the look Five is giving him with another dubious stare back, already kneeling to bend over the blazer with soap in hand and get to work. "Apparently I need to start holding classes for everyone around here. 'How to clean and mend garments, the basics for idiots'. I would've thought people from ancient times would be better at doing this sort of thing manually, but here we all are. Suppose some things never change no matter one's point in time or space..."

He gives another derisive sniff at that as he starts carefully applying soap, with a much more measured hand than Five's increasingly frustrated scrubbing earlier, though with an eye toward the slowly dimming light outside Arche tries not to slow his pace too much. Still, this sort of laundering takes a certain technique, and he has to pause for a moment here and there to let the soap sink in as he works. He doesn't take his eyes off his task, at least giving Five the bare privacy of not having someone staring him in the face, but--

"Besides. I believe we already had an arrangement, didn't we? Using one another for our skills or something along those lines, and this happens to be one of my skills. I don't intend to take it back just because we've had a change of scenery."

It's funny how much this always reminds him of talking to other apprentices back in his Academy days. Measuring his replies, judging what's safe or useful to say versus what's going to get him knifed in some secluded spot later, knowing the other party is doing the same. He wouldn't insult Five by saying it out loud, but with the other boy's sister here and Five clearly quite fiercely ready to stand between her and everyone else on this rock-- in a small way Arche is even reminded of himself.

It says a great deal about his current mental state that he doesn't have some cutting remark ready when Arche takes personal offense over how he cares for his own clothing. Which, for the record, is insulting enough in its own right. He's not a child who needs someone to do his laundry for him; he's a survivalist who did everything on his own for decades. But it's hard to argue the point when he barely saw some of the damage until Arche draws his attention to it. If he needed a visual for how he's been ignoring a problem, the shape of his blazer seems to make that statement for him.

Most of the stains are weeks old at this point, and it seems to make a lot of sense with how poorly he's been sleeping in it. The last time he got more than hour at night was when Eleven knocked him out during the siege. That was before the blood rain sapped him of what little he managed, all out of paranoia for what it might signal.

He settles with a sour expression, turning his attention back to what Arche is doing. It's strange, watching him carefully scrub the garment, and for the life of him he can't figure out why he's doing this. He obviously has experience in cleaning bloodstains, but the rest of his explanation doesn't track.

"That's not exactly how I interpreted our arrangement." This isn't in the same realm as figuring out why spirits were luring people to a lake. Which -- is actually something he never updated him on after his escapades. He did let Eleven in on that though, so if they talk, he might have already heard. It's besides the point.

"If you're trying to earn favors, you might as well come out with it." Nobody helps him without a reason better than the one he gave, and he's too tired to play guessing games. "What do you want?"

At last, Archeval does glance up now, pausing in his work just to turn around and fix Five with a bone-dry stare.

"To not have to watch you walk around in a tattered jacket covered in half-cleaned stains and falling apart at the seams," he drawls. "You're going to let me fix those too, by the way." This time he doesn't even nominally bother with the 'asking' part, going right back to his self-appointed task once he's given Five that look.

"If I wanted a favor, I would ask for it and barter appropriately. Sharing expertise among the group keeps us operating at best efficiency, and as I keep saying, my goal is for all of us to get out of here safely. I should think that's all simple enough."

As ever, it's hard not to remark on the fact that Five seems somehow out-of-sorts. But that's not the sort of thing Arche could've said to his fellow apprentices back at the Academy either. Any hint of something that could sound like pity in the wrong light would surely have been taken as Arche signaling he saw a weakness he intended to pounce on; and he very much suspects the same holds true here.

That answer hardly satisfies him, and it doesn't wipe the suspicious look from his face. He would have been more comfortable if he were doing this for any other reason, but he doesn't make a move to stop him. Never mind if some of it is misdirected resentment. As someone trapped in this young body, he's always dodging concerned glances and uninvited questions to any discomfort he isn't successfully able to mask. His personal space is constantly invaded, and no matter how often he lashes out at them, it never seems to sink in.

For the sake of efficiency. Arche doesn't need to say what he's thinking for Five to pick up on it. As if this is his polite way to force assistance because of how pathetic he looked trying to do simple tasks. The pity is implied.

He seems to remember him having a problem with Five doing everything himself, even before he was struck with whatever affliction is currently hampering his ability to function. Apparently he'd been somewhat convincing, considering he took him up on that offer back in the woods. But sitting here now, watching him insist on helping with something plainly unimportant, puts that in a different light.

"What would we do without you?" He smiles again, the way he usually does when he's irritated at a faulty perception. He can relate to the feeling of being more capable than everyone else, but he wouldn't even hover over his own family as much as this. If what he heard is true, that Arche is the one who killed Unhalad, this all might be another way to assert dominance over the rest of them.

"Things must have really slowed down for you since the farm."

"Yes, I haven't been on the quartz as much to be snooped on, have I?" Arche drawls out wryly, holding up the blazer to the light for a moment to inspect his work. It's not at all often in his life that he's ever been accused of being polite, so the exact nuances of Five's irritation are going over his head right now, but he continues right along seemingly unperturbed by the more-or-less expected reaction from the other 'young' man.

"And presumably without me you'd be walking around in disgusting tattered half-cleaned clothes, honestly this entire group is hopeless. I suppose at least I haven't yet caught you poorly pretending you know which end of a needle is up the way I did Mingyu, finally couldn't take that one anymore," he sniffs. And, while working a little more soap into a particularly stubborn spot, he'll glance over his shoulder briefly again with one raised brow.

"But you know, if it would be useful for you to hear what I've been up to lately, you could just try asking. I don't like being spied upon, but trading information is another beast entirely. If you wish to consider our arrangement a one-time deal now expired, then so be it I suppose, but as long as we are all stuck together I don't see how it benefits either you or I to return to square one."

This is hardly the first time he's brought up the spying that Five readily admitted to. He only gets a shrug in return. If that's the reason he's not been using the quartz, he should be thanking him for the lesson in being more careful. Who knows what else he could have learned if he hadn't made him aware.

Apparently nobody ever told Five that he shouldn't stare at someone for long periods of time, because he keeps right on scrutinizing every action and expression he makes. The anecdote about Mingyu is an amusing visual, but it also might have been his attempt to prove that he's not being singled out. This could always be some elaborate trap, or a ploy to take his guard down, and he refuses to let it slip. Especially now, when he's more vulnerable.

Is that fair, when Arche has only ever offered to help the survival of the group, and in fact could be credited with saving many them from a horrible death? Of course it is. Five has seen how powerful he is, and he'd be a fool to turn his back and hope that he won't suddenly have a change of heart if he learns too much about him or his family. Now that he's not the only member of said family here, that becomes more likely.

"Alright then." Five shifts and leans forward, deciding right then to call his bluff. Far be it for him to offend him with improper ettiequte. "What have you been up to lately? More than laundry, I'm assuming."

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it? Didn't strain anything over there, I hope?" responds Archeval in that usual sardonic drawl.

"I exerted myself quite a bit during the siege, took an injury. For a while after that I wasn't in much of a state to do anything useful but rest and recover my energy." And, of course, try to get a handle on his new passenger. Everybody's probably already heard that he stuck a lightsaber through Unhalad by now, or so he assumes, but what happened between the two of them afterward is something that so far he's been very selective about sharing. Certainly if Five found out that he's sitting here right now with both Darth Imperius and the same warlord responsible for dragging most of their little band to this hellhole of a world, Arche can well imagine this conversation would turn a lot less casual.

"Since getting back up to speed, I've been pitching in here and there around the caravan and trying to take stock of what notes of mine I managed to rescue from the farmhouse, copy back down what I can recall from things that got lost in the chaos. It's a project I've had going for a bit trying to get a handle on Sa-Hareth's language." If the usual pattern holds true, Five has probably already heard about it, but might as well cover his bases.

"And I broke into some kind of temple in the side of a cliff for Lan Wangji, looking for one of his relatives. Fascinating place, actually, very... evocative. But that would be the long and short of my terribly riveting adventures on the caravan."

He gives Five a very dry look before turning back to his task again, inspecting the dripping garment one more time. It looks much improved from a few minutes earlier, the stains mostly removed or at least unnoticeable -- not perfect, but probably about as good as it's going to get with these facilities -- so with that he starts to carefully wring out the excess water.

"The local ghosts don't seem nearly so inclined to drag us all to our deaths as everything else around here has been, so indeed, I suppose I've been less busy. I suppose you, meanwhile, must have your hands full."

He doesn't elaborate on that statement at all, calmly continuing to squeeze water out of Five's blazer one section at a time.

Five gives him a flat look at another unappreciated attempt at teasing. There's nothing wrong with his method of collecting information, but Arche seems to need little prompting to go into detail about his activities. Or maybe he's doing so intentionally, just to prove how willing he is to make good on his word. Possibly because he believes he has nothing to fear from oversharing with the likes of him. Somehow he doesn't think that all has to do with Five being especially good at hiding who he is and more to the fact that Arche is that sure of himself.

He looks him over with some interest when he reveals the state he was in after the siege, but can't spot the injury he's referring to. It's possible he's well on his way to recovery. To the extent that he can focus on his notes at least. For that, Five is envious. Concentrating on his work has felt nearly impossible lately, and he can't trust that he hasn't made too many mistakes while trying to salvage any of it.

The bit about the temple raises an eyebrow though. Lan Wangji's relative? Must be his son, who Five is only vaguely aware of. Of course that's the subject he breezes by without elaboration. Arche isn't the only one who hasn't been paying enough attention to their little network lately, and he frowns thinking he somehow missed an opportunity.

Fortunately, he has an easy excuse to why he's been distracted. Which he assumes Arche has already picked up on, with that last statement.

"With my sisters, you mean?" He isn't sure if he is aware of Allison's arrival, but he sees no reason not to point out his family. If only to make it clear who shouldn't be messed with. "They know how to take care of themselves."

If he thinks that Five is going to expand on that, he'll be disappointed. He isn't done asking questions, since he seems to enjoy answering them so much.

"Tell me about the temple." His sister arrived somewhere similar, so he's curious if it's the same one. "Did you find who you were looking for?"

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