Birthday Party

[peripheries]

Who: Paul Atreides and all his CR
What: Throwing everyone’s favorite Duke a surprise birthday party
When: Forwarded dated to April 1st
Where: Bone House in Gaze

Content Warnings: Drinking, underage drinking, drugs (both fictional and not), drawings of space worms, skeletons, will add further warnings if necessary



When you arrive at the house in Gaze, (affectionately known as Bone House), a skeleton will open the door and offer to take your coat if you have one. No need to take your shoes off or anything!

The large house has been decorated with black streamers and confetti. In the entryway and hung on the railing to the second floor that overlooks the entrance to the great room are large banners that say “HAPPY BIRTHDAY PAUL” (though one looks like it used to say “Jaune” but was just painted over? Whatever).

In the Living Room, there is a large board and various colored markers for people to write messages to the birthday boy. There is also a table full of bottled water and various couches, chairs, and beanbags to collapse into if the party gets to be too much and one needs a quiet place to rest or a place to chill if you’ve imbibed too much… well, whatever you had.

It is also where all the food and drinks are.

There’s an extremely large charcuterie board with the usual meats, cheeses, and olives as well as an extremely eccentric collection of snacks ranging from individual sized Cheez-it bags, to humungous bags of Doritos and salty chips, as well as nearly every kind of Oreo one can imagine.

There are also various cakes, all angel food. Some are misshapen, some have an attempt at being frosted with whipped cream and fruit, one even says “Happy Birthday Ka-” before that was hastily covered with a bunch of strawberries jammed really close together.

At the island, a skeleton is playing bartender. Surprisingly, it can seem to take and understand individual orders, but there’s always a constant flow of tequila shots being made and sent out to the great hall to be served by another skeleton.

And, no, of course it’s not going to check your age to see if you’re legal. It’s a skeleton. Why would it care?

The Great Hall is the center of activity and where everyone is encouraged to mingle and have fun. There is a skeleton on the grand piano in the corner gleefully playing piano covers of the hits from the Shrek Soundtrack with the occasional cover of “DaRude’s Sandstorm” when it has another one to help out.

In another corner, on huge piece of paper that spans nearly 6ft wide and 8ft tall is drawing of an Arrakis sandworm and it’s giant maw. The game is Pin the Tooth on the Sandworm and it’s… very easy… because the worm maw is most of the board. Even if the skeleton spins you as you’re blindfolded, it’s pretty hard to lose. If you manage to do it, which is likely, the skeleton running the game will award you a tequila shot! If you lose, the skeletons will award you a tequila shot (but it’s rail).

(It’s a drinking game, isn’t the point to drink?)

There’s also a table that has many candelabras on it, numbering up to seventeen. They’re still lit and burning even though there is a sign that says “make a wish!” even though it almost looks like a shrine for the dead.

…It’s maybe clear that the concept of “birthday candles” was greatly misunderstood.

There is also a skeleton dealing out small doses of “Spice”, a psychoactive drug straight outta the Duneverse. However, you must check in with this Skeleton to get a dose. There will be no “permanently melting your brain with ancestral memories” at this party!

Teacher’s/God’s/Jod’s/The Emperor Undying’s study, adjacent to the main hall, is closed and locked. Though, the lock is fairly easy to break if someone really wanted to get in. There’s not even skeletons guarding.

That said, many things are warded with eerie runes of blood and bone.

So, fuck around and find out.

The upstairs is generally off limits. Party goers can climb up the stairs, and it’s encouraged if they want to look over the Great Room from above, but all of the bedrooms are carefully guarded by more skeletons who will SCREAM VERY LOUDLY if you try to enter and will become hostile if done by force.

Of course, this won’t happen if you are with someone who lives in the house.

Enjoy the party! Mingle away!

((ooc: if you have any questions or anything, please hit me up at worldtype)) or via PM.))

Birthday Board | At the Party | The Morning After | IC Party Games | Spice Dealer

Comments

[terriblepurpose]

[It's messy and imperfect, this feverish contact, dissolving into the licking of flames as much as tongues, teeth clicking together like flint on metal. Paul kisses like he fights, but with none of the skill - only the same whole-hearted and absolute commitment.

When he finally pulls back for a breath his mouth feels nearly bruised, slick and hot. He slips his hand higher under Kaworu's shirt restlessly, slides it back down in decorum, so all he achieves turns out to be petting.]

I...

[Paul feels his heartbeat in the tips of his fingers, nestled in the base of his throat. He presses their foreheads together again, nose to nose, and lets out a long, shaking exhale, his eyes still closed.]

Thank you.

[peripheries]

[Paul's determination, and whole-hearted commitment to things, stirs something in Kaworu. Like it did back in that tent when they learned wrestling moves, a time that seems so long ago and also like it was only yesterday. It pushes him to do better, to compete, to participate instead of just watching for amusement.

There's no skill in him either, but he determinedly rises to meet Paul's level of commitment.

Then Paul pulls away, brushing a hand far up his back beneath his shirt, brushing the vertebrae before pulling back down and Kaworu wishes he hadn't, savoring the tingling sensation across his back. But the press of Paul's forehead is soothing and he leans into it and answers Paul's question with a voice barely above a whisper.]

Why? It's your birthday.

[terriblepurpose]

[If they weren't pressed chest to chest, Paul's ripple of silent laughter might go unnoticed. He pairs it with the sweep of his thumb along Kaworu's neck in assurance, because he doesn't want Kaworu to think he's laughing at him. He's just - light, unburdened.]

So that was just because it's my birthday?

[He doesn't believe that. He traces a circle on the warm skin above Kaworu's hip, feather-light and deliberately slow, and imagines he feels its ghost-echo slipping down his spine.]

Thank you for all of this. For staying with me.

[peripheries]

No. But I don't think you need to thank anyone on your birthday. Otherwise, you'd be too busy to do anything else.

[He lets the silent ripple of laughter flow through him, disturbing the quiet stillness of his body, then letting it settle once more.

The gentle sensation of Paul's hand on his hip makes him sigh softly, both soothed and seeped in the desire for more. Kaworu runs a gentle thumb down the edge of Paul's jawbone, taking in his features, noting the colors in his eyes.]

Of course. You came for me.

[He doesn't remember a lot of what happened on the beach. Maybe because he can't. Maybe because he doesn't want to. But he does remember seeing Paul, abandoning everything for him, begging an uncaring god for him, holding him.

After that, else could he do but stay?]

[terriblepurpose]

[Paul can remember. He remembers everything, from the first dream to the last fall. He remembers Kaworu asleep on the edge of the ocean, water tugging at his fingertips, and he remembers the shattered parody of a kiss that the thing inside him had pressed to Paul's jaw where Kaworu's thumb traces now.

He can't forget. But perhaps he can supplant. He can alter the order of recollection, put this memory before that one, fill himself up with enough fragile happiness to make the rest of it bearable. Connect, and be tethered.]

I promised.

[He bends to kiss Kaworu's slender jaw, mirroring his tracing touch on Paul's. Colors spiral out from the sparking of nerve on nerve, and Paul teeters on the precipice of another dive, but -]

I have time for you. [Another kiss, closer to his ear.] But we should go back soon.

[peripheries]

Not everyone keeps them.

[Is the murmured reply as he leans into the kiss like a warm shelter from rain. Perhaps it's better that some of the details on that beach are hazy. It allows for brighter memories to overtake them, casting them into the shadows at the corners of his mind.

He waits to see if Paul will take another dive, sighing softly in an alluring way, but... it is his Paul's party and he need to put on appearances. He presses his nose to his the other boy's cheek as he kisses his ear.]

I suppose a duke and a birthday boy have to keep up appearances.

[terriblepurpose]

[Or he's going to perish right here in the closet, because Kaworu is evidently trying to kill him in a scheme convoluted enough to earn Paul's admiration before he meets his fate. His thoughts burst like so many bubbles as already pain sensitized skin lights up under the brush of breath and lips, and Paul leans against Kaworu with a noise that is categorically not a whimper -

- and catches Kaworu around the waist when his weight throws off the equilibrium of the bucket he'd forgotten was even there, pulling the smaller boy back with enough lightly panicked abruptness to haul him off it entirely. He stumbles backwards, half-laughing, half-breathless, and lowers Kaworu to the ground with apologetic care.]

I'm sorry. [For nearly putting them both on the floor; for stopping; for both.] Are you all right?

[It's a question he asks often. He's never asked it while bending over Kaworu with a tilted, intoxicated smile, stroking fingers along his jaw to tip his head back like he did before on the couch. He drinks the visual down shamelessly, roving from the clean lines of his neck to his finger mussed hair. He murmurs, mesmerised:]

Look at you.

[peripheries]

[Murder wasn't quite the intent here but it is fun to see Paul caught so off guard. Kaworu takes on all of his weight and doesn't think about how it could dislodge him because everything seems so perfectly in sync.

Then he rocks backwards and Paul grabs him around the waist lifting his , holding him like he's something delicate to be protected. He's almost concerned they'll end up on the floor but Paul manages to grab him and hold him steady. He's gotten surprisingly used to knowing someone in this house will hold him if he stumbles. There's pleasant weightless before Paul sets him down with a breathless laugh.]

I'm alright.

[He's not so delicate. But he lets Paul handle him like he is, raising his chin at the gesture and looking into Paul's sea-green eyes.]

What do you see?

[terriblepurpose]

[Paul takes his time with his answer, reaching up with his other hand to slip his fingers between locks of pale hair, canting his head to the side for another angle of contemplation. He bends to kiss the top of Kaworu's head, gentle and light.]

Clouds over the moon.

[He drifts lower to kiss the arch of his brow.]

Pomegranate jewels.

[The sweep of his cheekbone, the bridge of his nose.]

Seashells.

[His smile is wondering and soft, faintly tremulous.]

You.

[peripheries]

Poetry.

[It's a tease but it comes out in hushed breath, as though he has to steady himself from the weight of being appreciated in such a gentle and thoughtful way.

He reaches up to take Paul's face in both his hands, gently in his pale hands with the fragility of holding water between cupped fingers, pulling him closer so he can murmur against the edge of his lips.]

You can see many things with your eyes that you can't with your head.

[terriblepurpose]

[Paul bends like a willow under Kaworu's guidance, hovering on the precipice of another kiss. They may never make it out of here.]

You're inspiring.

[He breathes deep, heady on sea breezes and the elusive electric tang of Kaworu's skin. It feels only natural for these words to pour out of him, even necessary. As if, if he didn't speak them, they'd tangle in his throat and stick there.]

I didn't know I was allowed to look.

[peripheries]

[Kaworu closes the gap, but instead of diving off the edge, he descends gently, a soft press of his lips against Paul's, light as a feather. Then he presses his forehead against Paul's, breathing him in, feeling like he could meld into Paul's body if he took another step forward.]

Now that you do, don't look away.

[It's teasing, a passionate desire to be at the center of someone's affection, eyes on him. But there's a plea there from a boy who wanted nothing more than to be remembered. Don't leave. Stay with him.]

[terriblepurpose]

[Paul brushes both his thumbs along Kaworu's cheeks when they kiss, revelling in yet another subtle variation in touch. He could spend hours finding new ones, mapping the shivering sparks from his fingertips alone until he was exhausted.

The latent plea under Kaworu's words sobers him. His eyes half-open to take him in another way, a faint crease formed between them by drawn together brows.]

I won't.

[He curls a hand over one of Kaworu's, turning impulsively to kiss his palm. He lingers, feeling the thrum of life under leylines, and thinks about promises that not everyone keeps.]

You're important to me.

[It's not poetry, those plain words spoken intently, but he means it as deeply as any talk of clouds or seashells.]

[peripheries]

You're important to me too.

[You're the most important.

He struggles to hold back a tremble as Paul's lips brush his hand. When he struggled to understand what love was, before he came to the Trench, he thought that it was something sticky, cloying, that clung to you in an all consuming and yet unpleasant manner.

Now he realizes that it can be soft, gentle, even easy. He understands why humans want to be loved beyond anything else.]

[terriblepurpose]

[Love was a word not often spoken where Paul was born, the way that proverbs hold fish do not speak of water. Love was held in the hands, bestowed by the eyes, articulated through a thousand tiny gestures and acts that cradled Paul the whole of his life. He took it for granted, until it was gone, and it's shaped him as deeply as its lack has shaped everyone he finds himself caring for here.

He knows how to adore the way he knows how to see. When he lowers Kaworu's hand from his mouth to lace his fingers through it, he does both, meeting Kaworu's eyes with his own shaded to the soft green of a sea under warm rain.]

I know.

[It's a grace he isn't worthy of, but he wants to be, and isn't that the aspiration that things like this should inspire?]

I'm very lucky.

[He breathes in, long and sweet.]

Come on. Before I decide not to share you with anyone else ever again.