let me look at the sun | open

[terriblepurpose]

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

Comments

[thinkfirst]

Your Excellency!

[ Flynn says from on his knees, younger and desperate in a different way: Flynn himself, the present-Flynn, stands behind him trying to catch his balance, his head spinning and his hand braced on Paul's shoulder, the only thing anchoring him in this half-dream. Alexei looks at him, still cold, unmoved, and Flynn's stomach flips. He doesn't see them. He only sees a young and desperate knight on his knees, begging for help that won't come, failing the first mission ever given to him. ]

I will dispatch reinforcements as soon as the ceremony is over. Your brigade is to hold the fort for now.

The situation is urgent! The citizens are in danger!

[ Alexei snorts, and the stag reappears from behind his desk, stately and unmoved, as the younger Flynn flinches under the force of Alexei telling him to know his place, that there is no place here for amateur knights with ideals bigger than their sense.

Flynn's hand tightens on Paul's shoulder. ]

We—we should follow it. Go. I don't... if I couldn't reach him even here, then perhaps I truly am as naive as he believes me to be.

[terriblepurpose]

[The hand on his shoulder steadies Paul too, something he's sickly grateful for as this keeps unfolding in front of them. The stag's arrival barely registers as his eyes stay fixed on the younger Flynn. It's only the real voice of his counterpart that stirs him, and Paul rises from the floor stiffly, shrugging away Flynn's gripping fingers. They're more than he's entitled to by far.]

The fault doesn't lie with you. [He's still speaking softly as he unwinds the chain from his wrist, its links corroded brown-black.] You're right. We should go.

[He makes himself meet Flynn's eyes, if Flynn cares to meet his, and either way he says:] It wasn't supposed to be like this.

[With that, he'll approach the stag when Flynn does, a half-step behind to be sure that Flynn crosses over before Paul. He keeps his eyes averted from the rest of the memory. He's taken more than enough as it is.]

[thinkfirst]

[ Flynn does meet his eyes, and he is momentarily trapped by what he sees there: a sort of regret, to his eyes, for someone he has never met. It's striking because it's the sort of thing Flynn has learned that not many people truly feel, the sort of thing that... he doesn't get very often. ]

It never was. Thank you for trying.

[ Flynn reaches out carefully, ignoring the stifled breath and the clank of armor of his younger self as he pushes, defeated, to his feet to go meet Estellise and wait, rejected, with her. His and Paul's business here is concluded, an equal failure, and after that the stag's quiet fur is a comfort. It looks back at them both, waiting for Paul's hand, and only begins to walk when they are both touching, leading them out of this half-space forgotten in time and back to a present where, hopefully, they will have more of an impact. ]