deercountry | let me look at the sun

Entry tags:

let me look at the sun | open

Who: Paul Atreides, open
What: Event catch-all
When: Month of December
Where: Archaic Archives, streets of Trench, the forest's edge, memories
Notes: Go ahead and contact me at

terriblepurpose or by PM if you'd like to discuss any starters or suggest new ones! For tagging in your character's memories to Paul, feel free to start with whatever your preference is.

Content Warnings: Violence, body horror (lockjoint), death, religious extremism, extensive Dune spoilers, suicidal ideation, funerals, grief

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[ Oh, a secret door! That, actually, is very Ninth, and Gideon happily follows Paul down the staircase, not thinking much of it. Gideon cannot imagine Harrowhark liking flying a machine through a mountain, but she'd think this is neat, and Gideon makes a mental note to tell her about it.

But, oh. I wish I could show you more. For the most part, this has all been very novel and exciting for Gideon. She can't imagine what it's like to be from a place like this. Does Paul miss it, all the time? Does he want to go back? Even Gideon, who gave her whole life to the Ninth, doesn't want to return there. ]

Well, maybe after this memory, I'll end up in another one of yours, and we can come back? Or maybe we'll end up on that other planet -- Arrakis? Any time I don't end up back on the Ninth, I'm winning.

[ Because those memories? Are generally not great. Still, she knows this might be his only shot, so she adds: ] Besides, we'll be in a 'thopter, like you said. We can probably go anywhere.

[The way Paul nearly pauses on a step when Gideon mentions going anywhere might say something about whether and how much Paul misses it here, his head ducking slightly more than required. (In his own thoughts, he is struck by the idea of not missing where you come from, and what that says about the Ninth.) The staircase opens up after the first turn, at least, and there's room for both of them to straighten.

Everything is made from dark grey stone slabs, and yet for all that it should be oppressive the architecture manages a certain brutal elegance. Paul fits right in, with the sombre color and severe cut of his coat, like an extension of the place itself.]

If you come back, I'll try to make the weather better. You can swim in the summer. [Paul glances back, contemplating Gideon, and tilts his head.] Have you ever gone swimming?

[It's not far to the hangar, and they're nearly there. Paul stops at the top of the final flight leading down and pulls off his left glove (his hand feels much improved, opened, cleaned, and seamlessly closed again, not even a wound left to be seen) to press his bare palm against the wall. By way of explanation, he says:]

I need to adjust something. [His eyes are seemingly casually averted, looking at a dangling spiderweb, when he adds:] If we did end up in the Ninth, I'm sure you'd find something interesting to show me.

[ There are only so many ways to build a secret hole in the ground, Gideon figures, because this place, with its dark severity and relative silence, is incredibly Ninth. It's a lot less decrepit, though, which is nice. Gideon seems more relaxed here, down in the dark, than she was on the beach or in the graveyard. For a relatively large person, her footsteps are incredibly quiet, as if she's used to sneaking around.

At Paul's question, Gideon needs a moment to think. Saying no sounds awfully pathetic, and there was that one time in the Canaan house pool, so: ]

Yeah, once. That was indoors though, on the First. [ An underwater hug totally counts! Totally. ] But I think you did fine with the weather. The Ninth is furthest from Dominicus, so we don't get a whole lot of light. [ or really, any. ] It's nice here. [ Gideon waves her hand, an easygoing don't worry about it. ]

[ When Paul stops, Gideon peers over his shoulder, wondering if there's something happening at the base of the stairs. His explanation is appropriately Ninth House cryptic, so she just shrugs and steps back a few paces. Gideon generally parses cryptic as a signal that more weird nerd stuff is about to come her way; she'll just let Paul do whatever he needs to do. ]

I mean, the Ninth House is really just a big pit filled with a ton of old people. The most interesting thing about it is all locked up. Did Sextus tell you about the Tomb? [ There's really no way to say that without sounding super ominous, but oh well. ]

[As ever, Paul can never think one thing at a time: he's noting where the Ninth falls in Gideon's solar system and the name of its sun simultaneous with the thought that the Ninth must be one of the coldest, loneliest worlds he's ever heard of.]

It is. [He sounds softly thoughtful; he'd taken so much for granted.] Thank you for seeing that.

[Nothing seems to happen while Paul leans into the remembered wall, the muffled sounds of activity beyond the stairs unchanged, but when he lifts his hand there's a faint sheen of sweat on the stone, and he seems relieved. (There's one person who can't be there, so he isn't anymore. That's all.)]

There. And no, he didn't mention the Tomb. [That does sound ominous, and ominous is interesting, judging by the curious look Paul tosses at her over his shoulder.] ...I may have been distracting him.

[Paul seems the slightest bit embarrassed by that, but the way is clear to the hangar, and he continues down the steps. They open up in a massive stone niche cut into the cliff face, open all along one wall and full of folded wing ornithopters and their attendant crew. Some of those crew immediately peel off from their work and start towards Paul and Gideon.]

They'll prepare our flight harnesses and helmets, then we'll go. No one is going to ask you questions, so don't worry about that.

[That's not so much a function of magic as it is that no one is going to ask Paul any questions, and his bodyguards are an extension of himself. Paul's bearing shifts slightly, and Gideon can watch him shrug on the mantle of authority like a second skin. He greets the crew members with a nod and a fluid one-handed gesture and they disperse without a word to collect gear for the two of them, acting on silent orders.]

[ Gideon still can't tell what, precisely, Paul is trying to do with his magic. Judging by the sweat, though, she knows he's making some degree of effort. He's just lucky he's not bleeding.

She's used to Harrow's non-explanations for necromantic nonsense, so Gideon doesn't ask Paul for one, either. Still, she raises a single eyebrow at the performance, an I see what you did there, but I'm not going to comment. They've got better things to worry about. Like flying machines, for instance.

Instead, when she talks, it's about the Tomb. Gideon is so rarely the person who gets to explain things, so this is kind of nice! ]

Oh, I doubt you could've distracted him. It probably just wasn't relevant at the time.

[ The fact that Palamedes spent eight months as a revenant and didn't go insane truly is a testament to his focus. ]

So, our Emperor -- he's god, right? [ totally normal. ] Which means that he's, you know, immortal and all that. The only thing that could possibly kill him -- the beast he defeated once and can't defeat twice -- is buried in the Locked Tomb, on the Ninth House. The people of the House are just there to guard it.

[ Fun! Gideon does not mention that said beast is, somehow, doing a real number on her love life. Fortunately, she doesn't have too much time to think about that, because there are the flying machines! Gideon's jaw drops, just a tiny bit, before she remembers she's supposed to be a royal bodyguard, or whatever. ]

Woah, they look like huge bugs. [ Said in complete reverence. This is a compliment!

Gideon is only halfway-committed to the bodyguard bit. Her look of surprise settles into an excited grin, and where Paul greets the crew members with a nod, Gideon greets them with an enthusiastic salute. She imagines this is what joining the Cohort might have been like, despite the complete lack of bone decor.

(It's weird, to think about that old dream now, after everything. Weird enough that Gideon simply refuses to acknowledge it.)

She'll accept any helmet, harness, or other flying equipment as they're given, following Paul's lead in terms of how to wear all this stuff. Quietly, just to him: ]

Cool. And you know how to fly this thing, right? [ Probably should have asked before, but. Details. ]

[It's for the best Paul was already studiously not reacting to Gideon's raised eyebrow, because it gave him a hold to cling to for everything that followed 'our Emperor'.

Even he knows that you cannot possibly ask someone if their god is truly immortal without careful preparation. It has nothing to do with him, no point of reference, no need to press against what well may still be a metaphor, and he knows he's lying to himself even as he weaves the lie. Where his natural curiosity should be, the part of him that would want to know the how and when and through what method, there is instead a mere handful of bleak questions, and only one he'd ask Gideon.

He thinks of a rotting house full of ghosts, of a planet too burning brilliant to step onto the surface of and its far-flung freezing counterpart, of weapons and archives and tombs and systems of control and a covered bowl in the rain, and he already has an answer, doesn't he?]

They do. Like dragonflies. I'll show you a picture of one after this.

[After all, Gideon wouldn't know. Whatever he feels about that is beside the point. A determination settles in him, a different breed than the grim kind he's become used to, one not morbid with brooding and regret.]

Mm, I was thinking today was a good day to learn.

[The crew return with their gear, and a brisk young woman hands Gideon a set of simple gear, easy enough to intuit - the fastenings connect themselves when brought close to each other. Paul takes off his coat and hands it to another man, fitting himself with the harness and helmet, and once it's on, he's shifted again. The duke's son gives way to a young soldier with a cocky half-smile, who rolls his shoulders back and sets off for one of the 'thopters.]

I may have practiced once or twice. [He picks up where they left off easily, touching one door of a 'thopter before stepping aside to gesture her into it, and he finally relents:] I took one of these through a sandstorm the size of a - you wouldn't know what that is. A large one. I know what I'm doing.

[Speaking of that: if he says nothing about the other thing Gideon said, it's as good as an admission. So he chooses a moment to pause, drawing his brows together, glancing away as if reminded of something, yes, but not overly so.]

It must be an honor, protecting something so important.

Oh, excellent, we can learn together.

[ Gideon returns that half-smile with an equally cocky grin. Truly, this is a woman who causes problems on purpose. She flashes that same smile to the woman handing off the gear, which is kind of the worst.

Gideon has never seen a sandstorm, either, but she can imagine what they're like. She winces a little -- piloting one of these smaller ships through what is presumably very windy sounds rough.

At Paul's gesture, she boards the ship and takes shotgun. She's looking all around as she does -- everything's a lot smaller than a Nine Houses carrier. This time, it's Gideon's turn to be lucky to be looking away, because Paul brings up the Tomb again. She'd taken his silence as an admission of the creepiness of the entire situation. But it turns out he was thinking about it, which is always worse.

She's quiet for a moment, uncharacteristically so. ]

Yeah, it is, for the rest of them. I'm not sworn to the Tomb.

[ Never has been. I'm talking about the failure of the Ninth House operation. Gideon is a key, a bomb. A tool to be used to pry that thing open. No wonder she was always such a shitty nun. That had never been her purpose. ]

I'm sworn to Harrowhark. That's it.

[ And Harrowhark is not the Tomb, no matter what Gideon's necromancer might think. Again, Paul sounds like her, describing the role of Tomb-keeper as an honor. It's not an honor, Gideon thinks. It's a bullshit prison sentence.

When Gideon finally turns back to face him, that easygoing smile is back, but there's an intensity to her gaze that wasn't there before. It's fine. Don't worry about it. Let's fly this thing. ]

So. I'm guessing the first step is to switch this baby on?

That's right.

[Paul meets Gideon's intensity with a half-lidded glance, and there's an edge to it not meant for her that vanishes almost as soon as he makes eye contact. He begins flipping a series of switches on the analog control panel, and the machine begins to come to life around them.]

The harness is suspensor-fitted, so it helps compensate for inertia. You won't feel as much of the force.

[That's not exactly how it works, but never mind that. Paul takes one of the stylized insignia off his collar and wedges a tip of it under a panel face on the controls, prying it loose to reveal a bundle of wires he eases out with his fingertips. He's as methodically precise about this as he was the ignition sequence. Then he switches on the vocal transmitter.]

This is Theta Hector 7, requesting clearance for approach.

Clearance granted, sir.

[The flightmaster's dry voice is received by both of their helmets and the hanger around and in front of them is clear. Paul terminates the transmission and runs the rest of the flight sequence. The massive paired wings of the 'thopter spread with a smooth mechanical whir and begin to beat. He takes the flight yoke in hand and raises it, and the flying machine rises lightly from the ground. After he eases them out of the hangar and into the open air, he extends one hand to offer Gideon his collar pin.]

Would you mind breaking that wire for me when I ask you to? It'll deactivate the back up comms system.

[He keeps facing forward, his voice raised only enough to be heard over the rhythmic pumping of the wings, and he's smiling slightly. It's not a smile that anyone would describe as 'reassuring', especially when paired with the sharp focus of his eyes.

Paul has his tombs and Gideon has her Tomb, and it's not possible to go fast or far enough to get away from either, he knows that. But he has a theory that it's possible to elude them for a while, and so: they'll find out.]

[ Gideon watches Paul prepare for takeoff, suitably impressed. Even though the ship is relatively small, the whole process looks looks awfully complicated Maybe that's why Ninth House escape attempt #46: pilot a shuttle off the Ninth failed so miserably. (That's exactly why it failed, along with the fact that the Ninth does not own much in the way of shuttles.)

Gideon takes the pin, thinking nothing of it until Paul suggests that he's about to deactivate the comms system. That gets another eyebrow raise out of Gideon, this one more of a challenge instead of skepticism. Looks like this Eighth-looking guy has guts! Nice! ]

No prob. Just give me the signal.

[ That smile does absolutely nothing to reassure Gideon that what they're doing is sensible. But that's okay. She doesn't need it to, because, she thinks, she recognizes it.

So: Gideon returns that smile, with a reckless grin of her own. At practically a shout, regardless of whether or not this ship has a gas pedal: ] Floor it, Atreides!

Edited 2022-01-07 23:30 (UTC)

[Paul does. The 'thopter's nose tips upwards and he pulls back hard on the yoke, slamming them both back into their seats with only the thin cushion of suspension to buffer it. The machine vibrates as the wings whir, and they accelerate towards the storm-clouded sky. The primary comms almost immediately crackles back to life, the dry voice now pitched upwards, stunned.]

Theta Hector 7, you are deviating from the flight path.

Copy. You can go ahead and find someone who outranks you now.

[And Paul kills the primary channel switch, then banks hard to the left, the mountain he pointed at before lining up in front of him. He pushes the 'thopter for more speed, still rising rapidly, and the cockpit doors rattle. Paul doesn't seem concerned, even as he raises his voice over the howl of wind and the straining of the machine around them.]

We have to dive to get enough speed to clear the tunnel. You'll want to brace your feet on the cross-bar -

Theta Hector 7, abort approach.

[That was quick. Paul's little smile deepens and tilts sideways at the growl that grinds out over the back up comms system with all the gentle warmth of frozen gravel.]

There you are, old man. Gideon, why don't you say hello to Gurney?

[ Okay, so in hindsight maybe Gideon shouldn't have used a phrase that she's only ever heard in comics. Paul moves it, and Gideon stays pressed against her seat, gripping the backside like she's forgotten she's wearing the harness. The speed is terrifying, it's exhilirating, and Paul was right: Gideon is not thinking about the Tomb at all right now. ]

Oh, shit! [ Gideon shouts, followed by a delighted woop woop! Whoever's on the other end of the primary comms can almost certainly hear her, but Gideon does not care. She's barely registering that Paul is even talking to someone, until the backup comms kick in.

Gideon knows that voice. Well, maybe not that voice specifically, but one very much like it. She's picturing someone with a scarred-up face and a missing leg when she leans forward, still beaming. ]

'Sup, Gurney! [ Gideon half-shouts, half-laughs, which is a very reassuring thing to hear, obviously. ] Don't worry, everything's under control!

[ Gideon braces for the dive as told, giving Paul a thumbs-up once she's set. Based on his demeanor at the beach, she didn't think Paul had it in him to do something this nuts, but she's thrilled he does. ]

Hello, Gideon. [If someone could throttle a person through a voice channel, it might be the man behind this voice.] I don't know what's gotten into either of you, but once we pick whatever is left out of the ocean I'm going to thrash it out of you.

That's not a very nice thing to say.

[Paul glances at Gideon and, in defiance of all good sense and decency, rolls his eyes. Then it's back to the controls and the mountain rapidly approaching, his mouth still fixed in a smirk.]

I'm going to thrash it out of you, my lord. Abort the approach.

We're almost at the apex. Do you really want to keep distracting me?

Paul, [the old man says, furious with fear] This isn't a game.

Oh, Gurney. You know better than that. Gideon, cut it.

Paul, stop -

[Paul doesn't stop. The top of the arc has been reached, and the timing of this is critical. He tilts the nose of the 'thopter down, aiming towards a nearly invisible hole in the mountainside, and plunges them towards it with all the force he can drag screaming from the wings.

The borehole is older than Paul is by ages, a relic of a war no one even knows the name of anymore, carved by a weapon long lost. It was perfectly smooth, once, a straight line shot through the heart of the mountain. As they hurtle towards it, Gideon will be able to bear witness to the gouges and stains that surround its mouth, and their cause: the hole isn't wide enough for the wings of this machine. A hundred meters, fifty, thirty, ten, and they do not fold.

He flicks the switch primed for the manuever as the nose of the 'thopter crosses the threshold of the tunnel, and they sail forth into the darkness.]

[ Gideon offers a shrug in return. Old people really do get freaked out over the smallest things. ]

You can thrash it out of us as soon as you catch us!

[ At the speed they're going at, there's no way he can. Gideon cuts the feed, and Paul dives, and there is nothing but speed and darkness and the scrape of wings against rock. There is no Tomb, no dead fathers or mothers, no sticks of dynamite, no one surviving when they weren't meant to. Gideon shouts, and laughs, and forgets herself. Later, after all this is said and done, she will hope that Paul was able to do the same.

Once they emerge from the mountain and Paul lands the 'thopter, they will find a strange, white creature with frozen antlers. Gideon doesn't know what to call the creature, but she knows what it means: it's time to go.

She turns back to Paul, one last time, and this time, there's a gentleness to her lopsided smile. ] Thanks for the ride. I'll see you around, yeah?

[ It's not really a question. Paul is already friends with Palamedes; there's no way he'll be able to avoid Gideon completely.

Then, because she's fairly certain that he needed the flight practice as much as she did, that whatever's going on in his head is a much deeper loss than simple homesickness: ] Take care of yourself.

[ Gideon won't make him talk about it -- that would be the hypocrisy of the myriad -- but it feels cruel to ignore it, to pretend it doesn't exist. So she leaves Paul with that little acknowledgement, and she follows the frozen creature home. ]

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