Paul Atreides (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
terriblepurpose) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
deercountry2021-12-08 04:28 pm
terriblepurpose) wrote in deercountry2021-12-08 04:28 pm
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![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
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
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
Content Warnings: Violence, body horror (lockjoint), death, religious extremism, extensive Dune spoilers, suicidal ideation, funerals, grief
no subject
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.
no subject
[ 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?
no subject
[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.]
no subject
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!
no subject
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?
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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. ]