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

[hopticulture]

[She recognizes his failed gesture, and despite everything she laughs, rubbing her cheek with the back of her hand before bending down to instead wring out the hem of her skirt. It runs a light pink into the sand, from blood left over.

When she looks back up, Paul looks serious, and in a very animal-like gesture, she tilts her head at his sudden urgency.

Ah. Well, he doesn't have to worry. She's been at the mercy of gossip, hates it. And she understands vulnerable people needing to protect their most vulnerable moments from others.]

I promise I won't tell. You'll find that I'm pretty good at keeping secrets.

[terriblepurpose]

[Paul can't read Haru the way he would be able to read most people. The intersection of humanoid and lapine traits make her a near-mystery. He should therefore have no grounds to believe her, no evidence to base it on. All the same, he does. It's a gut feeling, or some lingering trace of prescient sense, or both, but he does.

He smiles at her, shakily relieved, and then nods at the approaching stag.]

You should go. Get warm. [A pause, then:] I promise I won't say anything either.

[He doesn't know who he might say it to, or, truthfully, what he saw. But it was hers, a sight he wasn't meant to see, and that's reason enough.]

[hopticulture]

[It's not as though she understood half of what she saw anyway.

She smiles back, turning her head to look behind at Paul's gesture and pausing at the sight of the familiar animal. Before she touches the creature, to go in its direction and out of this memory, she looks back to Paul.]

You should go too. [A suggestion, knowing the dangers of being left alone with your thoughts for too long.

But she won't press the issue further than that; placing her hand against the stag's flank, she finally turns and disappears back into the physical world.]