un: mouse | video

[terriblepurpose]

[ The feed opens on a young man seated cross-legged on an expanse of black scales, framed between two spiralling white horns against a backdrop of more black scales interspersed with charcoal dark feathers. His Hunter's armour is nearly of a shade to match, covering all of him but his vaguely familiar face.

He smiles warmly as he runs a soft cloth over a plain knife to clean it of the black blood all over its flat metal grey. ]

Good evening, fellow Sleepers.



[ The last light of the day catches in his dark curls and his blue-green eyes, on the pale mist of his breath in the cool winter air. ]

For those of you I haven't met, let me reintroduce myself. Paul Atreides, of House Atreides, also known as Paul Muad'Dib, which sounds more impressive than it is.

[ A tiny, smoke dark mouse appears on his shoulder, and he inclines his head towards her fondly. ]

It's been some time since I was here, at least from my perspective. I've certainly changed much more than anything else has. It's a peculiar position to be in, and I've been at all kinds of ends with myself, waiting for the reversion.

But while I am here, for however long that is - I've never been very good at being idle.

[ The knife cleaned, Paul flicks it deftly upward in a flashing spin, a gesture made for the joy of making it. He catches it and flips it on its side, balancing it on two fingers at precisely the axis of its gravity. His gaze focuses on it, still and tranquil. ]

Someone once told me that with great power comes great responsibility. [ The corner of his mouth quirks up, amusement brushed through with nostalgia. ] It was a joke, of course, although I didn't know that at the time.

Still. There's something to the principle, if taken seriously, or so I'd like to think.

[ He furrows his brow slightly, all of his intent honed in on his knife. In a mild, everyday sort of voice, he says: ]

This knife is as light as a feather.

[ He flicks it upward again, but this time, the blade that acted as metal before drifts as lightly as he's told it that it would. It floats gently down towards his opened palm, where he smiles at it with a faint sheen of accomplishment. ]

Which brings me to my purpose here.

As long as this is a stop along my path, I want to exercise my responsibility to my power - and my responsibility to you, as my friends and as my people.

I want to know what you want in this world, whatever it might be. I can't promise that I'll be able to grant your request, but I give you my word I'll do all that I am capable of to see your wishes manifested, so long as you don't ask me to be an agent of harm.

Be creative. Be selfish. No wish too small or too large. Let me see what I can do for you.

[ He flashes a bright grin, a trace of rueful self-deprecation turned inward on himself. ]

You'll be keeping me out of trouble.

[ ooc: replies will come from unchoose ]

Comments

[slightlytaller]

Some actor in some American movie that one of my classmates insisted I watch with him. It came out... A decade ago?

[Waver shrugged. There were too many unknowns and he already had a headache from trying to devour the immense amount of notes that had been left specifically for him.]

I don't know. I hadn't really slept for three days at that point. I think it was about... Uhhh...

[He bit his lip as he thought, eyes squeezing closed while he tried to focus on this stupid nothing topic.]

Arrakis. Dune. Desert planet. The spice must flow...

Something sandworms.

... Was Captain Picard and Sting in it?

[unchoose]

I don't know who those people are either.

[ Paul examines Waver with mild curiosity and equally mild concern mingled together. ]

I do know Arrakis. I suppose this McLachlan portrays a character who shares my name? I've heard of that kind of thing happening before.

Was the movie any good?

[slightlytaller]

....I honestly can't really remember too much about it. The special effects were nice, and I think Melvin wanted to help me feel a little better after our professor was an ass to me during his lecture.

Again.

[The frown turned into a moody, petulant pout.]

What's it to you anyway? Even if it shares parts of your reality, it's still fiction. Historians can't even get the height right for some historical figures, so it's probably the same here.

[A shrug. He had the powers of stubbornness, Iskandar's dream, and video games on his side. Come at him, bro. ]

[unchoose]

I learned about it first from you mentioning it, so I don't suppose it's much to me.

[ He shrugs in echo, looking a bit nonplussed, but unruffled. ]

If you enjoyed yourself, that seems like the important thing.

[slightlytaller]

I mean, it was okay?

I don't get to watch movies often.

[Such was the life of an insufferable academic.]

[unchoose]

Ah, well. They can't all be great successes.

1/2

[slightlytaller]

Nearly every review said it was a box office bomb, but that doesn't always mean anything.

2/2 Private

[slightlytaller]

[And, with that he clicked on the private filter.]

I actually have a proposal for you, Paul Atreides. Because I'm not stupid-- and I've got absolutely nothing in all the notes I've got about you.

private ∞

[unchoose]

[ Paul looks increasingly perplexed as Waver pushes on, his brows raising especially at Waver's unexpectedly insistent declaration, but holds his peace until the younger man is done. ]

All right. What's the proposal?

private ∞

[slightlytaller]

[Waver, at all ages, is nothing if not persistent.]

Like you, my time here as I am right now is looking like it's limited. That's fine-- Thirty Year Old me knows what he's doing. But, all of your offers make it sound like you're a Darkblood, and Older Me has a few projects he's been meaning to do and no source of Darkblood that he's comfortable with.

He's Vileblood. So am I. You see the problem.

It's just a couple of items he'd like replicated. Honestly? I've got something that I'd like to leave for him, too.

They shouldn't be too hard.

...And, both his and my Vileblood comes with poison immunity. If you need that kinda thing anywhere. I don't expect any of this to be free, so I'm willing to work out an exchange, within reason.

[unchoose]

Permanent effects are exactly the sort of thing I want to try...I can't guarantee it's possible, but I'm game for the attempt.

[ He smiles peacefully, settled down by Waver's directness. He flutters his free hand through the air as he goes on, casually: ]

If you want to make a blood tithe, you can, but to keep things efficient, I'd take it directly to the Blood Ministers. I understand they're often in need of fresh Vileblood and short on donors.

[slightlytaller]

That's fine. I figure any data is better than none.

[Directness was the best way to deal with complicated matters, especially when magic got involved. He didn't want to play games-- not right now, not when his soul still felt a little raw from witnessing hell and being ordered to survive it all. ]

Fine. I'll see if I can talk to a Blood Minister. I think there's one in this stack of notes the both of them left me.

Between the pinboard and the cat, I've got a headache. But, I'm in Cellar Door.

Where and when did you want to meet? It's easier to show you what I've got.

[unchoose]

How does tomorrow evening strike you? My appointment book is filling up quickly.

[ He flashes his teeth in a relieved smile. It's good to be past the initial challenge. ]

And I can come to you. I don't have much of a place to call my own.

[slightlytaller]

You talk to me like I've got a busy calendar.

I don't.

[Waver sighed-- and, knowing he was stupid, he added:]

You're too busy to not have an address. Do you need a couch to crash on? I've got room.

-- and, before you say anything, I'm evidently supposed to be thirty-one, and I evidently take my old teacher's Lordship.

So. Older Me has contingencies and there's nothing you can do.

[unchoose]

It's not as dire as that. It's only that I don't have space to entertain.

[ He tilts his head and gives Waver another placidly curious look. ]

There's nothing I can do about...?

[slightlytaller]

... In case you change your mind and decide the there is a cost to your magnanimity.

[Said... With a pout that only a teenager can muster.]

Don't be dumb. You're from a desert and there's snow outside. I'm from a small island country with bad weather and even I don't like this.

[unchoose]

Ah. That's reasonable.

[ He nods, suggesting that he'll take 'nothing he can do' to heart. ]

I have somewhere to keep the snow off my head at night. For all the generous comfort of your couch, it seems you have problems enough without adding playing host. I couldn't bring myself to impose.

[slightlytaller]

I'd rather not be alone.

[The words were quick, and spoken in a tight little voice.]

Look. I've got a complicated situation and-- apparently my King was here for a while, before Madame Generosity got me. Twice.

I...

I saw him die on our Earth pretty recently, and I can still feel his presence in this flat.

The Professor knows people, but I don't want to bother the kids and the adults closer to his age as busy, okay?

It's stupid. I know it's stupid.

[unchoose]

[ Sympathy eclipses curiosity. Paul leans forward, propping his arms on his knees, and listens with full, gentle attentiveness. ]

That isn't stupid.

[ He has a good voice for this. Nonjudgmental, soothing. ]

It sounds like you might be better off finding somewhere else to stay for a while. I know someone who keeps a few houses around town. What if I arranged for us to meet there?

You could bring your cat, take over the place. Have over anyone you like for company.

[slightlytaller]

... How do I know you're not some God or Fae pretending to be a fictional character to suck naive and unwitting humans into a deal?

[unchoose]

You don't.

But you were willing to invite me into your home anyway a moment ago, and whether I'm a god, a fey thing, or only a man, that concerns me.

It's prudent of you to be cautious.

[slightlytaller]

You don't know a damn thing about my Earth.

... And that's a good thing. If you knew the people teaching the school I learned everything in, you wouldn't know who to trust, either.

[And that wasn't counting the Holy Grail War and it's horrors the were still fresh on his soul. It was a miracle he survived at all, he knew.

He didn't know what to do with himself at all. ]

... Fine. I'll take you up on it, even though you're not as cute as Kyle MacLachlan. I've been holeing up in the archives up till now.

[unchoose]

[ Back to combativeness. Paul sees it for what it is, now. He lets some of his soft amusement shine through. ]

I'll have my Omen send you the address. The key to the door is in an ornament shaped like a crescent moon strung up on the tree in the back garden. You can get through the gate by slipping your hand through the slats and flipping the lock from the outside.

[slightlytaller]

The moon-- that's a good choice, I hear the moon is really important to the local religion. Probably more than others.

[He sighed, knowing that he had dug his own grave on this one, and conceded.]

I'll owe you, Paul Atreides. We can work on my projects and see what happens. I'll find a way to pay you back, too.

[unchoose]

You owe the city. You don't owe me.

[ It's a very mild redirection, hardly rising up to even the level of gentle rebuke, but it's still firm and certain. ]

If you like the ornament, you can keep it. I never put a key the same place twice.