deercountry | [open] Oh the weather outside is weather

Pauline has seen Midoriya adopt this stance before. It was how they met, him so forthrightly there to help that he overcame her preoccupation with the test and the needle. So it's odd that this time, she has to temper a physiological flush.

"Paul said that you liked learning new things, and that you might like to see my performance at the talent show because of that," Pauline says, and yes, the plan, so: she doesn't do anything as unsubtle as bat her eyelashes. She briefly lowers them instead, a delicate sweep, and then looks up with ever so slightly widened eyes.

"And he said you were a Hero that I could count on. Is that true, Midoriya-san?"

The talent show is absolutely an opportunity to learn new things, given how many Sleepers can handle themselves in survival and combat situations. It's lucky Midoriya is rarely without his notebook.

"Ye--"

Oh crap, she's doing it again. Is she just like that? She and Todoroki could trade tips on how to make people swoon without even trying. His face heats up in earnest. How do they stay so calm when talking to people anyway?

It seems important to her that she be able to trust him. Midoriya is someone who can walk through hell fixated on his need to save someone with no distractions, but not a lot of people know that. Paul recommended him, as a hero, to his friend. That fact touches him. Regardless, someone's asking him to his face if they can count on him. There's really only one way he can answer, voice clear despite the blush running roughshod across his cheeks.

"Yes. Of course."

This is more or less how Pauline imagined this would go. Midoriya is not predictable, she'd never make that error, but he is consistent. Trustworthy. So she would tease, a little, and he would be earnest, and she would entrust him the ring, and after, they'll laugh about it.

But yes, of course. As easy as that, and she's still a novice, in some ways. Her control is not as perfect as she would always like. Flustered, she feels the delicate dilation of a flush on the tip of her nose, lightly across her cheekbones. Irritating.

She looks down to slide the ring from her thumb, brings it to her open, cupped palms, looks at the hawk, reads the inscription.

"Would you look after this for me, while I dance?" She offers it to him with both hands, and the look on her face is much like the one Paul wore when Midoriya finally snapped him from his dream: startled at herself, startled at him. "Please. It's important."

His eyes skate hurriedly away from what is, he's almost sure, a blush on her cheeks. He can't fathom why, but he inwardly panics at the thought of being caught looking at it. Cool people don't blush, they make other less cool people blush.

Midoriya has to look at her again when she speaks. She seems, for a moment, like she's cut from the same cloth as Paul. (She's Paul's friend, of course she would pick up a few things.) He can't figure out the expression on her face, just jarring enough that it doesn't quite fit the context. Is she worried? Of what will happen to the ring?

Midoriya takes it carefully, trying not to touch her hands out of respect, and cups the ring like a baby bird. He offers her a confused smile.

"Don't worry. I'll keep it safe. I spent a lot of shifts in Willful Machine preventing theft. In case you can't find me after your show, just message 'Deku.' But I'll wait for you."

Pauline hasn't let anyone else touch the ring. She knows it's not rational. No one here cares who or what House Atreides is, would put no value on it except for it's worth in metal and gems, and in this place that's no better than a geode or an iridescent shell. It's likely not even the true ring, only a simulacrum. It doesn't mean anything, except as a little trinket, a bauble of memory.

"It's my father's," Pauline says, with an urgency she didn't intend, and she reaches up to try to fold his hands over it with no thought except that she needs him to understand, the weight of this small thing, "You can't let anything happen to it. You have to swear you won't."

She is absolutely ruining this. So much for Bene Gesserit training.

He blinks rapidly and surreptitiously glances around, wondering if someone is specifically after the ring. He tries not to look paranoid to onlookers and mostly fails.

He thinks about how they're all torn from their home worlds. He thinks about his mom. The old him would have questioned being entrusted with something so important. Now, his hands simply tense around the ring enclosed in them. It's not usual for a stranger to touch his hands, but he receives it without fuss.

His brows are knit with concern. He forgets to smile at her reassuringly like he always thought he should. Then his face smooths out, and he speaks steadily,

"Don't worry. When a hero says they'll do something, they'll do it."

Not technically true, he knows there are heroes out there whose courage or conviction falters. But it's what he believes for himself, and that gives him his steel.

Pauline pulls her hands away, and now she is properly frustrated with herself, but. Midoriya says he'll do it, and she believes him. So she smooths an invisible crease in her dress and steps back, resuming a smile as if nothing ever happened to it in the first place.

"Thank you," she says, after a moment of further collection, "Paul said that's what you'd say."

She assumes he would have, if asked, since it's what she would say. She is trying to be a good steward for his life, considering it's also hers. So she takes her skirts and cape in hand and curtsies, to a deep degree of politeness, and rises again with hands clasped together.

"I'll let you know when I come out, if you don't see me. Is that all right?"

Midoriya catches her smile and tremulously reflects it back. When she curtsies like she's from a Western period film, he quickly, earnestly, awkwardly bows back in his usual Japanese way, feet together, back straight. With hands more sure than his face, he places the ring carefully in the inside pocket of his blazer next to his handkerchief, the one Luz gave him back in October when he was crying his eyes out.

"Yes. And good luck!"

"No basements this time," Pauline says, with a smile exactly like the one her other self had before flinging himself into one, and after one more self-reassuring glance at the pocket he placed the ring in, she nods.

"I do like your shoes." With that cryptic pronouncement, she turns on her heels in a sparkling swirl, her cape fanning out behind her like a galaxy, before sweeping off. (She put effort into making sure she could do it reliably before she came to the party. She hopes at least one person appreciates it.)

The text message comes after the performance, from a familiar username:

un: younghuman
I hope you liked it. I'm near the stage, I'll wave when I see you. (I'm using Paul's device.)

True to her word, she does wave, standing up to do so with a grin. When he's close enough, she says, brightly: "Have you guessed yet? Who I am."

Edited 2022-01-16 22:25 (UTC)

Ah. Paul told her about the basement. Poor Paul... She imitates his smile so perfectly, surely she must tease him too. She whirls away like--well, like a superhero. Cool. (He may never know how much effort went into practicing it beforehand.)

It occurs to him he didn't ask her name. Turns out he didn't need to, as a performance by "Pauline Atreides" is announced. He stifles a small gasp.

As when Paul showed him his moves before the weak floor had so rudely collapsed, Midoriya is starstruck. He loves it. Here, there is added spectacle meant for the stage, complete with fire. Since no one is on the stage with her, the pyrotechnics are perfectly safe, of course. Probably. Even now, Midoriya thinks about safety. It's drilled into him.

Now and then, he is conscious of the all-important ring in his pocket beating like a heart.

He finds her. He knows who she is: Paul's friend, who has lost her Omni. No wonder, then, that she wanted to entrust the ring to him. Midoriya can't judge; he broke his phone in a fight last year. Anyway, she's Paul's friend, who... is a little off somehow, like a loose thread on a shirt. Midorya doesn't know Paul extremely well yet, so he can't put his finger on what about Pauline subconsciously nags at him.

His shoulders rise awkwardly. "I'm sorry, he never mentioned anyone like you by name, and I forgot to ask. But you must have had the same teacher! And you're related! Oh--your ring..."

He fishes it out of his pocket.

At first, Pauline does not quite believe what she is hearing. She knows that Midoriya is observant. He has effortlessly seen through her more than once, it's true - but to have done so here, so easily and readily that she didn't even detect his awareness, or reversal of the joke on her? She stares at him with an actually half-opened mouth.

"Midoriya-kun," Pauline says, finally, baffled, "It's me. I'm - ugh."

The 'ugh' is clearly articulated, and she holds her hand out for the ring looking mildly (and not unhappily, no, just - ugh) defeated.

"If you had only said you knew it was me - I suppose I deserve it, but if you ever are turned into a girl by a snake, you should know I won't forget this."

He returns the ring safe and sound. His face and his hand, still out, both open in surprise.

"Huh?! You got turned into a girl by a snake?!" he exclaims, a little too loudly.

He doesn't ask if this, too, is a fib. The familiar look Pauline gives him, the cadence, it's all there as evidence along with the confession. Midoriya had only discounted the possibility because he had not encountered such a thing. He didn't think it was possible.

"I thought you were strange, but it's too different from the usual blood magic... Are you OK, Paul-kun??"

The joke she played on him, and the possibility that such magic could happen to him, are only secondary concerns.

That's more like it, even if it's not exactly according to plan. Pauline slips the ring back on her thumb and lifts her chin in belated triumph - only to falter when Midoriya expresses immediate concern.

"I'm all right, don't be worried -" she raises her hands palms out and up, warding off his anxious question "- it's called the Shedding Ceremony, it's a type of...I'm not certain, exactly, but I am all right."

She spreads her arms and gestures at herself, emphasizing the point: "See? All my limbs, and in the right places."

"I thought you'd laugh," she adds, somewhat uselessly.

This isn't the first time he thought in passing that a friend was cute, though it is the first time he was tricked into it. That garners more than a passing thought. But it's fine, everything's fine. He can be a normal human.

"Of course your body's alright--"

He feels a flush creep on his face and panics. Why now at this moment of all times? He quickly avoids her eye, avoids looking at her altogether, just eliminating any chance he might look too closely. He might not have had much socialization in junior high, but he knows it's weird for a boy to stare at a girl! (It's also weird for a boy to stare at a boy, but that's something for future Midoriya to worry about.)

"That wasn't what I was asking! It's weird, right, suddenly being in a new body? Unless you planned it? I didn't know you could transform! Why would I laugh at you?"

He's a little busy being mortified and speaking too fast.

"My body is more than all right," Pauline says, peevishly, and then she also needs to examines anything else in the room. She settles on his damnable shoes. (She has worked quite hard on her body, thank you.)

"First, no, it isn't, since this is the body I remember always having," she says, holding up a hand to enumerate, a pinkie raised to begin, "Second, I didn't plan it, my other self neglected his care for his own skin to the extent he lost it, third, we used to be squid, this is hardly as drastic, and fourth, because I clearly did not think this through far enough."

She folds her fingers down and huffs through her nose, folding her arms across her chest.

"...thank you for taking care of the ring," she adds, in a much quieter, less snippy tone.

At least I'm not being petty, he thinks. Fine, her body's amazing, but he's not going to just say that! He doesn't want to make this any worse... He can't remember everything he said in their previous conversation, only that he was exceedingly awkward in his opinion.

"'Always'...?"

He has to look back at her hand as she gestures. The gears are turning. He nods distractedly at her thank-you.

"So--So you really are Pauline-san, but you still remember being here in Trench as a guy who remembered being Paul-kun, but then you changed back? So you're like from an alternate timeline, but you kept Paul-kun's memories? It's like from a comic book..."

Midoriya, for his part, hadn't neglected his skin care for medical reasons. He had a lot of new scars from November to take care of, and winter cold bothered any skin that didn't stretch well.

Unfortunately for Midoriya, Pauline (and Paul's) reaction to being thrown off-guard is almost always to prickle. Fortunately for Midoriya, he seems to have a natural ability to disarm them both. He descends into a patter of earnest puzzling, Pauline lowers her sharp elbows somewhat, and sighs. He's impossible to be irritated with when it is, really, her fault.

"There's nothing comic about this," she mutters, "Apparently. But yes, that's it, more or less. I didn't mean for it to be so...ambiguous."

She looks up again and drops her arms fully to her sides, her mouth pressed thin, and then adds: "I'm sorry."

Ambiguous. Oh no. As if he isn't confused enough already. Midoriya blushes again.

"Ah--no--You don't have to apologize!" He waves his palms a little. "You're having a... a very weird day."

That alone is penance enough in Midoriya's book. He was also never good about defending or demanding apologies for himself.

He tilts his head slightly. To Pauline, comic means something different than American-style manga. It takes him a moment to rifle through the rudimentary English vocabulary he sometimes uses and figure out where their language barrier snagged.

"...You did think it was pretty funny though."

His smile is kind and polite, as ever. He sounds like he's mildly commenting on something incidental, like the weather, and his eyelids lower just a little. Some people stretch their faces wildly and drawl when they're teasing someone. Midoriya's not going to just laugh at a friend, but he's not above gently prodding them for their hubris. It's a sign he feels comfortable enough to.

Before Pauline came here, she had been quite sure that in terms of social skills, there were few who could outplay her. That is, she's realizing, part of why she keeps finding herself at all ends - she keeps overcomplicating things, shading in nuances that don't exist or aren't necessary.

Midoriya letting her off the metaphorical hook is, therefore, a relief. His gentleness of teasing is of a type she does recognize, even if she's never had it directed at her by a peer before. (She's never had peers before. That's part of it.)

"I do. I was unfair." She smooths out her skirt, conceding more easily now that she's already evidently forgiven. "...and I did, before you went ahead and were earnest about it. You should be more careful about agreeing to things for strangers, you know. What if the ring was poisoned?"

"It wasn't," she supplies, quickly.

Edited 2022-01-30 02:20 (UTC)

Midoriya isn't all-seeing. He's not sure what his being earnest has to do with killing Pauline's prank vibe, so he just blinks in confusion. He can only ascribe it to cold feet or the ring's importance, maybe. He's curious about her father, but doesn't pry.

Does she really need to specify it's not poison? Apparently she does. Midoriya gets the feeling that's not what she was really bothered about.

"That kind of stuff doesn't happen much in my world. The ring would be too much evidence to leave behind. We mostly worry about people leaving bombs in suspicious packages. You can bet I won't be holding one of those. But alright, Pauline-san, I won't take rings from strange people in the future," he promises.

Edited (forgot a thing) 2022-01-31 02:08 (UTC)

That gets a laugh from her, like an unexpected burst of sunlight, and she tilts her head to the side. It's not a coquettish gesture, but the same inquisitive little adjustment of angle her other self uses when anything intrigues him.

"I never know what to expect with you." She sounds slightly admiring of that. "As long as you promise. No other strange jewelry, either. I would hate to have to avenge you."

Which she says lightly, knowing that she would hate it, and also that she would avenge very, very thoroughly on his behalf.

"Now - I haven't asked. Are you having a good night, besides - well." This.

It's odd talking to a friend who is wearing a different face, but Paul shows through so much--like now, when Pauline cants her head like a bird surveying someone. It just comes from a different, lower angle now. It's familiar and confusing all at once. Like facets on a crystal that occasionally blind the viewer unexpectedly, Midoriya still thinks she's very pretty. But he's settling into the familiar cadence of his friend being confident and witty, most of the time.

One corner of his mouth lifts in a wry smile. "Yes. Definitely no strange jewelry, not even the cursed kind that has to be thrown in a volcano... It's an old story. Avenging won't be necessary."

Heroes aren't in the business of personal vengeance of being judge and executioner, but they do often get payback for someone else's sake by putting a stop to harmful criminal activities.

"I should ask you that. I'm not the one whose body suddenly changed."

Pauline isn't getting out of Midoriya being concerned about her. At least she still has her memories. He's thankful she's still his friend.

Pauline is thankful for Midoriya's continued tolerance of her particular brand of friendship, and her eye rolling at the repeated asking after her well-being is exaggerated to the point of comedy - and fails to conceal her genuine appreciation for checking in again. His persistence in challenging her and her facades is more welcome than she sometimes feels comfortable with.

Midoriya wouldn't be easy to take advantage of on purpose, she thinks, but it might be too easy to take him for granted in ways that she doesn't want to. (Like, for instance, allowing him to worry about her in the wake of a muddled prank.)

"I am. Better now that I'm talking to you." It sounds a bit like a dodge, but she means it, and she tries to convey that as earnestly as she can. "...I am curious about the volcano?"

Someone groaned and called him "mom" the other day for refusing to allow him to purchase alcohol before getting a tattoo. A compliment, honestly, and far better than other insults flung at him in childhood. Midoriya loves his mom. Midoriya is no longer a pushover, at least not where he thinks it matters, but it is still his first instinct to discern why someone might be abrasive instead of just writing them off. He's had a lot of practice, growing up with his childhood friend.

He gives Pauline a dubious look, which on him just looks like the faintest of doubts, before indulging her distraction.

"There was a movie..." he pauses, wondering if she's even aware of what movies are or if she calls them that. "Uh, someone wrote some English fantasy books about a powerful ring that could only be destroyed in this one volcano before an evil lord could get his hands on it. A wizard asked his friend to do it, because he knew he wouldn't use it for himself."

It's Midoriya's turn to pull a face, because he knows it sounds so weird pulled out of context like that. It's a similar feeling to someone catching him writing in his Hero Analysis notebook, and having to explain his weird nerd hobby.

"...It was very popular."

"I believe you," Pauline says, with the complete honesty of someone who does - that sounds a sight better than many epic tales she's heard. She has learned what 'movies' are, along with a few other general recurring unfamiliar words, but the idea that they could involve evil lords, wizards, magic rings, and volcanoes is novel.

"We should see this movie some time, if you'd like to," she offers up, pleased at the prospect of being able to make a real commitment to amends already, "I've never watched one with someone else. In fact, I've only watched one, and it wasn't nearly as interesting as that one sounds."

"...you worry too much I won't like things." It's an observation she makes with a little more weight than she gave to her previous words, eyeing Midoriya. "You're clever, and you have good taste. Why wouldn't I like the movie about the wizard's friend?"

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wannasmash - 2022-02-04 15:24 (UTC) - Expand